Rocco narrowed his eyes. "You're staying?"
"For now." I dragged a hand through my hair, still messy from whatever nightmare nap I'd had earlier. "Not forever. But just long enough."
"To do what?" he asked.
"Fish."
He raised a brow. I leaned forward, every movement still tight and aching, but steady. Controlled.
"Someone out there took a shot at me and didn't finish the job," I continued. "That's not ambition. That's personal. I want to know who had the balls to touch me… and didn't twist the knife." I kept my voice casual, but there was a steel edge in it that even I could feel. "I want to see every rat before I burn the nest."
He frowned. "You know you're not just some foot soldier, Kieran. You disappear, it sends shockwaves. People start making plays. Taking sides."
"Let them." I shrugged. "They wouldn't dare step into my seat unless they were damn sure I wasn't coming back."
"Scorpion's name's been dropped more than once," Rocco said. "He's out there grinning like the Devil's shadow, and people are backing him already. Some of the Elders too. They've got a clock on your return. And once that runs out…"
I didn't respond right away. Just stared at the ceiling, my jaw tight. Scorpion. My second-in-command, estranged by choice. Ambitious. Clever. Loyal once. Until he wasn't.
"Let them play house," I said finally, voice dry. "But I'm not crawling out just yet. This—" I gestured vaguely around the cramped apartment, "—is the last place they'd expect me to be."
He didn't look convinced. Not yet. So I gave him more.
"No one ever comes here, well except those lowlife sharks probably" I said. "My boys. My network. They skim this area when they're mapping out zones. Because it's 'too quiet.' Too slow. Half the residents are sixty-plus and deaf, the rest are nobodies with debt. This place is invisible to the city. And that makes it perfect."
Rocco gave me a flat look. "You're hiding in a hole, Kieran. That's not your style."
"I'm not hiding," I said. "I'm hunting... in secret."
He stared at me for a long time, the cigarette burning low between his fingers. Then, finally, he sighed. "You're too damn stubborn."
"I'm persistent," I corrected with a grin. "Handsome, too. It's a curse."
He rolled his eyes. "Your next problem is whether that girl'll let you keep crashing here. She already looks like she's hanging on by a thread. Sanity's slipping like bathwater."
I chuckled. "She doesn't have much of a choice. Besides I'm gonna find a way to persuade her."
Rocco snorted. "You've got a weird way of saying 'thank you' to the woman patching your sorry ass up."
I held out my hand, palm open. "Gimme one."
"For what?"
"A cigarette."
Rocco slapped my hand away without hesitation. "If you want to heal fast, keep your lungs out of the grave."
"Says the doctor blowing smoke in my face," I muttered.
He laughed at that, flicking ash into a coffee cup that had been sitting on the windowsill for three days. The room went quiet for a minute. Not tense, just heavy.
That was the thing about men like us. We didn't need to say much when shit got real. We understood the weight behind a sentence. The danger stitched into silence.
And then…
We were back.
Back to now. Back to Kina staring at me like I'd flipped her world upside down again. Back to this tiny, crumbling apartment that smelled like her shampoo and quiet fears.
She looked at me like I'd just asked to borrow her soul.
"No."
One word. Firm. Sharp. Like she actually thought it might land.
I blinked, then let out a breathy chuckle. "Alright. You got me."
I stood up, slow. No sudden movements. Just enough tension in my body to make her flinch, just enough smile on my face to make her question whether she should.
"I wasn't gonna do this," I said, circling the little coffee table like a lion around a particularly cute house cat. "But since you're so set on being difficult…"
She stood her ground, but her eyes followed me. "I'm not scared of you."
I grinned. "Did I say you were? But it's cute that you felt the need to clarify."
Her chin jutted out defiantly. "You can't stay here. I don't care how patched up you are, or how scary you think you are. I don't even know you."
"Well," I said, voice light but eyes sharp, "that's kinda the point of roommates, isn't it? Getting to know each other."
"This is not some quirky Craigslist arrangement."
"No, babe," I murmured, voice dropping just enough to have her blinking. "This is survival."
That made her falter. Just a flicker.
I leaned in, elbows on my knees, gaze level with hers. "You think you're safe now? That just because I'm up and breathing, it's over? You took me in. Bandaged me. You're already deep as hell in this. If someone finds out… they won't just knock."
Her face paled.
I smiled, soft and almost fond. "Lucky for you, I'm the only one who can keep you safe now."
She stared at me, jaw tight. "You're the one who got me into this in the first place!"
"And you're the one who decided to help," I shot back with a shrug. "So… whose fault is that?"