Page 2 of My Knight

I didn’t know what the hell was going on, but we were about to find out.

Dice and I moved across the cracked pavement. Our boots crunched against loose gravel as we headed toward the pulsing red and blue lights that painted the street in chaos. The tiny houses sat against the strobe of flashing lights like some kind of stage in a fucked-up play. Six cops stood scattered across the yard and sidewalk, radios squawking at their hips, their hands on belts, and shoulders stiff like they were waiting for something worse to happen.

Dice had that look in his eyes—sharp, alert. I kept my face blank, as usual. I didn’t show much, and tonight wasn’t going to be the night I started. We moved past the first cruiser when one of the uniforms peeled away from the rest and stepped straight into our path.

“We’re gonna need you to stop right there, fellas,” he barked.

I didn’t flinch. Instead, I hitched my chin toward the open front door where shadows danced behind the weak porch light. “We’re friends with who lives here. What’s going on?” My voice was calm, but it cut through the air like a blade.

The cop gave me a slow once-over like he was trying to figure out what kind of trouble I brought with me. He didn’t have to look long. I was used to this—judgment, suspicion, all of it. I’d lived with it for so long that it barely registered anymore. Let them look. I didn’t give a fuck.

Mac appeared in the doorway. She stepped outside quickly as her eyes scanned the scene.

“Mac!” Dice called.

Her head snapped in our direction. Relief flashed in her eyes as she rushed toward us.

“You know these guys?” the cop asked, glancing sidelong at her.

Mac nodded. “They’re the reason why we’re here in town.” She stopped in front of us, her face pale and her breathing uneven. “How did you guys know to come?” she asked.

“Scanner app,” Dice said simply.

“What the hell happened?” I asked, my voice lower this time.

Mac looked back toward the house like she wasn’t ready to say it out loud. “I don’t really know. Saylor was supposed to come over so we could go over the footage. She came over, but she was all bloody and could barely talk.”

I reared back a little. “What did she say?”

Mac’s eyes flicked toward the cop, who had folded his arms across his chest and watched us like we were suspects in a lineup.

“She said she thought she killed someone,” the cop answered, his voice flat and unimpressed.

“That is what she said,” Mac agreed quickly, “but she was also attacked by whoever she thinks she might have killed.” She leaned slightly toward the cop. “Self-defense.”

That hit like a punch to the gut. I’d expected something—maybe a bad fall, maybe she’d been mugged. But this? This was something else entirely.

“McCall,” someone called from the side of the house. “We need you over here.”

The cop grunted and pointed a thick finger at Dice and me. “You go farther than right here, and we’ll have a problem.”

We both nodded, but let’s be real—he wasn’t gonna be the one telling us what to do if things went sideways.

As he walked away, I turned back to Mac. “Now tell us what the hell is going on.”

She took a breath and glanced around again. “That’s what happened. But… she told me more.”

I leaned in, hearing the edge in her voice.

“She told me whoever attacked her called her one of the Iron Fiends’ bitches. Said this was for the asshole who keeps sniffing around.” Her eyes darted from me to Dice and back. “Saylor and I aren’t stupid, Pirate. We know you guys have some bad shit happening, even if we don’t know the details. And it looks like that bad shit found Saylor tonight.”

“But she’s not connected to us,” Dice muttered, voice hard.

“You and I know that,” Mac said, “but whoever is after you guys doesn’t.”

“Did they find the guy who attacked her? A body?” I asked.

Mac shook her head. “No body, but you can tell where they fought each other. Saylor said she managed to get her hands on a rock and smashed the guy’s head. She hit him so hard he went down, and she took off.”

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