Across from him, Law took the far side of the counter.
Not planned.
Just… there.
Close enough that Sage didn’t have to look to know where he was. He tracked him anyway—the shift of weight, the subtle repositioning when Law leaned to check the front window again, the way he settled back into place like he wasn’t going anywhere.
Shared space.
No distance to hide in.
His phone rang.
A known number.
He stared at it for a second, irritated, then shut the fucking thing off and tossed it onto the counter. They had Law’s phone if anyone needed to get in touch.
His fingers moved faster across the keys of his laptop, the rhythm picking up without him deciding to push it.
Forcing himself to slow it down, he scanned the room, the windows.
Everything looked right.
Which didn’t mean shit.
Not here.
Not with Rook close enough to matter.
Something outside caught his attention—just enough to pull him away from the counter.
Sage’s head turned first, then the rest of him followed. Movement at the front window. Subtle. Wrong enough to matter.
He pushed off the island and crossed the room, steps quiet, already narrowing his focus down to the glass, the angle, the reflection—
Nothing.
The street sat the same as before. Quiet. Still. A car turning two houses down, slow, normal.
Sage didn’t move right away.
Didn’t trust the stillness.
“Yeah…” he muttered under his breath. “No.”
He shifted closer, adjusting his angle—
A step behind him.
Close.
He felt it before he turned.
Law.
Not across the room anymore.
Right there.
