Page 8 of What Comes Around

“You two need to learn self‑defense.”

Amy groaned immediately. “I’m learning survival through avoidance.”

He didn’t smile.

“I’ve seen too much,” he said quietly. “Every shift. Every week. The world is not safe. Especially for women.”

I didn’t argue.

“I feel responsible for both of you,” he went on. “You’re under my wing whether you like it or not.”

Amy crossed her arms. “I can run simulations of danger.”

“That won’t help when someone grabs you.”

She shot him a glare sharp enough to cut glass.

“I’m not sending you to some group class with strangers,” he said. “I rented a room at a local gym. I’ll teach you myself. Once a week. One on one.”

“You?”

“I’ve trained officers. And civilians.”

Amy sighed dramatically. “I hate sweat.”

“You hate hospitals more,” he replied, deadpan.

She glared again.

I couldn’t help smiling.

There was something grounding about the two of them, the easy bickering, the unspoken loyalty. Their big‑brother‑little‑sister rhythm was so natural, so steady, so unlike the brittle, competitive environment I’d grown up with. Watching them felt like stepping into a family I’d never had.

“I’m in.” I had too many enemies in this life to pretend I didn’t need to know how to defend myself.

Liam nodded, satisfied.

Amy looked at me like I’d personally betrayed her.

“Fine,” she muttered. “But if I die during training, I’m haunting both of you.”

“You’ll survive,” I said.

“Barely,” she complained.

But she still showed up.

We learned how to fall. How to break grips. How to use weight against strength. How to survive long enough to run. Liam watched us like a hawk, like he already knew that one day, one of us would need everything he was teaching.

Chapter 4: A Day in the Field

A month into my new job at Sinclair, I already understood the rhythms. The shortcuts. The unspoken hierarchies. Which elevators stalled. Which coffee kept you alive. I knew who wanted honesty and who only pretended to.

I was buried in a risk model when footsteps stopped near my desk.

“Hey there,” a male voice said. “You’re the new development analyst, right?”

I looked up.