Page 16 of Knot Like Other Girls

Hours pass, the sun climbing higher in the sky as the investigation unfolds. I remain at my post, ignoring the growingache in my muscles and the gnawing emptiness in my stomach. Discomfort is an old friend, one I've learned to embrace rather than fight.

Occasionally, one of the others will drift by, offering updates in low voices. Caruso's body has been removed, whisked away to some sterile morgue where men in white coats will pick apart the secrets he took to his grave. The local police are cooperating, for now at least, but there are rumblings of higher authorities getting involved. The Carusos are suspiciously quiet, which sets my teeth on edge more than any overt threat could.

Through it all, I watch and wait, my mind cataloging every detail, every potential threat. It's exhausting work, but it's what I'm good at. It's what keeps us alive.

Finally, as the afternoon sun begins its slow descent toward the horizon, there's a shift in the energy of the house. Footsteps approach my position, and I turn to see Roman standing in the doorway. He looks tired, the kind of bone-deep weariness that comes from hours of careful negotiation.

"It's done," he says simply. "They're leaving."

I nod, not bothering to ask for details. If Roman wants me to know more, he'll tell me. That's how we operate.

He steps further into the room, his eyes scanning the street below in a habit I recognize all too well. "You did good work today, Cole."

The praise catches me off guard, and I feel a flush of warmth that I quickly suppress. "Just doing my job," I mutter, uncomfortable with the attention.

Roman's lips quirk in what might be the ghost of a smile. "Your job is important. Don't sell yourself short."

I shrug, unsure how to respond. Compliments have always made me uneasy, like ill-fitting clothes that chafe and bind in all the wrong places. But coming from Roman, they carry a weight that's hard to ignore.

He seems to sense my discomfort, because he changes tack. "We're not in the clear yet. The local authorities are satisfied for now, but this is going to attract attention we don't need. We need to be ready to move at a moment's notice."

I nod, already running through mental checklists of gear and exit strategies. "Where to?"

Roman hesitates, and I can see the conflict playing out behind his eyes. He's weighing options, considering angles, trying to find the best path forward for all of us. It's what makes him a good leader, this ability to see the bigger picture while still caring for the individuals under his command.

"I'm not sure yet," he admits finally. "We have some options, but each comes with its own risks. I need to talk it over with the others before we make a decision. If all this blows over—and it actually might, because we're just a security team with no real connections to any of these people—we're going to find a more laid-back job. Something that isn't a constant threat to our sanity."

The admission of uncertainty is unlike him, and it sets off warning bells in my head. Roman's always been our rock, the one constant in a world of shifting loyalties and broken promises. To see him wavering now...

I push the thought aside, focusing on the practical. "What do you need from me?"

Relief flickers across his face, there and gone in an instant. This, at least, is familiar territory for both of us. "Just keep doing what you're doing."

I nod, understanding the unspoken request. Roman needs me to be the steady one, the unmovable object in a storm of emotion and uncertainty.

"I've got it covered," I assure him, and I see some of the tightness leave his shoulders.

"I know you do," he says, and there's a warmth in his voice that I'm not used to hearing. "I don't say it enough, but... I'm glad you're here, Cole. We wouldn't have made it this far without you."

For a moment, I'm at a loss for how to respond. "Yeah, sure," I finally mutter, my voice rougher than I'd like.

Roman nods, seeming to understand all the things I can't bring myself to say. He turns to leave, but pauses at the doorway. "Get some rest when you can," he says, his tone leaving no room for argument. "We need everyone at their best in the coming days."

I nod, knowing I probably won't follow his advice but appreciating the sentiment nonetheless. Sleep and I have been uneasy bedfellows for years now, my dreams haunted by faces I'd rather forget and choices I wish I could unmake.

As Roman's footsteps fade away, I turn back to the window, resuming my vigil. The street below is quieter now, the circus of police and emergency vehicles replaced by the normal ebb and flow of city life. But I know better than to let my guard down. Danger rarely announces itself with sirens and flashing lights. More often, it creeps in on silent feet, striking when you least expect it.

So I watch, and I wait, ready for whatever comes next. Because that's what I do. That's who I am. The silent guardian, the watchful protector. The one who sees the threats others miss and stands ready to face them head-on.

It's not an easy life, not by any stretch of the imagination.

But it's mine.

And for now at least, it's enough.

CHAPTER 7

BELLA

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