Page 143 of What We Become

“So basically, Knox is my bodyguard and I’m his . . . what? Pocket-sized murder accessory?”

“You’re a Hangman, Sage. Same as the rest of us. You just happen to be a Hangman who fits behind Knox in a doorway.”

“Tactical concealment. He could literally strap me to his back like a backpack and no one would even know I was there.”

“Exactly.” The mental image of a Sage backpack forces a laugh out of me.

She grins.

“I like it when you laugh,” she says.

“I like it too.” It’s the kind of sentence that used to get stuck behind my teeth and rot there.

She leans forward. Cups my jaw with one hand and kisses me again, slow, deliberate.

When she pulls back, her thumb traces my cheekbone. “We’re going to be good at this.”

“The killing or the kissing?”

“Both. Obviously.”

I catch her hand. Press my lips to her palm.

We turn back to the files. She pulls Ayre’s case notes closer and starts reading the witness statements while I draft the operational framework for Waldock—location, schedule, vulnerabilities, the logistics that turn a name on a page into a body dangling from the end of a rope.

“Did you know Dean has a twin?” Sage asks, not looking up from the file.

“I did. Drake, I think. Haven’t met him, though.”

“Well, I met him today.”

“Oh yeah? How’d that go?”

“I thought it was Dean and he’d had a stroke.”

A laugh bubbles out of me. “He didn’t introduce himself?”

“No!” She fills me in on the strange encounter. How she thought Dean was acting weird until she went upstairs and saw him again. “That’s when I thought I was the one having a stroke,” she finishes. “But then it clicked—twins.”

“Identical twins.”

She narrows her eyes. “You’re enjoying this.”

“A little.”

“Amy’s sleeping with both of them.”

“Good for Amy.”

“That’s what I said.” She goes back to the file, but there’s a smile tucked into the corner of her mouth that she’s not trying very hard to hide.

I tap the folders into a crisp little stack and release a dramatic sigh. “Sorry I can’t provide you with a twin for your own amusement. You’ll just have to make do with one of me.”

She tips her chin toward me, all sly delight. “I think four other boyfriends is a pretty decent trade-up. I don’t need twins.”

“You sure? They make some pretty compelling arguments. Dean and Drake are now the gold standard.”

She makes a face. “Twins would be a logistical nightmare. I mean, sure I could have sex with them at the same time. But twins aren’t as good as boyfriends who are boyfriends.”