The moment stretched a fraction longer than it should have before he shifted his weight and said, easy as before, “So… the Fourth of July. You got fireworks planned?”
The phone went silent.
He’d deal with it later.
It stayed outside this moment.
“Yup, and a family barbecue,” Law drawled.
Before he could answer, the rest of the guys closed in.
Micah scanned the quad once, slow and thorough.
Students were already pretending nothing had happened. Phones lowered. Conversations resumed.
“Cleaners are east side,” Black said quietly.
Law angled them that way. They shifted direction without breaking stride, cutting toward the service lane bordering the quad.
A dark van rolled into position as they approached—no lights, no hesitation.
The doors opened. Two men stepped out, efficient and unremarkable.
Winter handed the suspect off without a word. The man didn’t get the chance to resist.
In a few moments, there would be no trace left of a psycho who’d roamed the campus and preyed on the weak.
Law nodded.
Just another night.
They crossed the quad in practiced formation, fading into shadow where the floodlights thinned.
Sage rolled his shoulders and fell back into step, his mind already sorting the night into patterns and outcomes.
Separate. Compartmentalized. Contained.
The night began to settle around them.
Winter was already giving Memphis hell over who was filing the report. Micah said something about sparklers and gasoline being a “valid enhancement,” and Black rolled his eyes like he’d heard it before.
Sage laughed.
It came easily. Unforced. For half a second, he felt lighter than he had any right to be.
Law’s phone vibrated.
He stepped a few paces away to answer, voice low. “Yeah.”
Sage only half listened, his attention snagging on Black asking Micah if he was winded from running, and Micah scowling at the big guy in response.
Law went quiet.
“We’re probably not heading back,” Sage murmured to Winter.
The assassin gave a grim nod. Black jerked his head toward where they’d parked the car, and Micah adjusted and fell into step beside the bigger man without thinking about it. Black’s hand brushed the younger man’s shoulder once—brief, grounding, the kind of quiet check-in he seemed to give Micah without thinking about it.
Sage caught something in Black’s expression when Micah smiled. A shadow of something sharper than irritation, gone before he could name it.
