Page 73 of Down Knot Out
I laugh, the sound catching me off guard. “I’ll have you know I’ve upgraded to thirty-minute blocks now.”
Her teeth flash white in her tanned face. “Progress indeed.” Her attention shifts to her tablet. “Water taxi’s due back at seventeen hundred hours. Think your pack drama will distract you until then?”
“No distraction.” I tap my tablet screen back to life. “Work comes first.”
She snorts, unconvinced. “Sure it does. That’s why you’ve checked the dock three times this morning.”
Heat creeps up my neck. I hadn’t realized my vigilance was so obvious. “The equipment delivery?—”
“—isn’t expected until tomorrow,” she finishes. “Your calendar’s on my tablet, too, remember?”
The worker with the saw calls again.
Emily cups her hand at her mouth. “Just grab a new one! I’m not your babysitter!”
“You technically are,” I remind her as the worker huffs and stomps toward the equipment shed.
“Like herding cats some days.” She snorts, then shifts her attention back to me. “Your pack’s coming together, Nathaniel. Don’t overthink it.”
Your pack’s coming together.
For years, Dominic, Blake, Holden, and I have functioned as a unit, but we’ve never been truly complete. The empty space at our center has shaped everything we’ve built, from this resort to the bonds between us. Relationships defined as much by what was missing as by what was present.
I turn toward the water, where sunlight dances across the surface in fractured brilliance. We’re closer to being a true pack now than we’ve ever been. No more waiting. Just the five of us, aligned at last, the way we were always meant to be.
My fingers find the silver ring my grandfather left me, twisting it once. I think, if he were still alive, my grandfather would be proud of what we’ve built here.
I keep my voice low enough that the nearest workers won’t overhear. “Any luck with the pawn shops?”
Emily shakes her head. “Nothing. I hit every shop in Pinecrest yesterday, then again this morning. No one’s seen our equipment.”
A flock of gulls soar overhead, their cries drowning out the construction noise.
“The laser level alone is worth five thousand,” I murmur. “Not the kind of thing a thief would just throw away.”
“Too specialized to fence easily, too dangerous to hang onto.” Emily sips her coffee as she surveys the site. “They’ll sell the stuff eventually. Just a matter of time.”
“Yeah.” Sweat trickles down my spine despite the cool breeze coming off the water. “Let’s check yesterday’s surveillance footage.”
We step into the temporary office trailer, and I blink as my eyes adjust to the sudden dimness. The stale air inside holds the scent of instant coffee and printer toner. Emily closes the door behind us, muffling the construction noise to a distant rumble.
My fingers tap across the laptop keyboard, pulling up the previous night’s security feed. The screen glows with grainy black-and-white images of the construction site after hours.
With the water taxi down, several of the crew had been forced to bunk down in the cabins for the night. The perfect time for our saboteur to make a move. Shadows stretch long across empty scaffolding and equipment covered with tarps to protect from overnight dew.
Emily leans in, pointing at motion on the screen. “Trip to the bathroom.”
We fast-forward through three identical incidents, with flashlights moving across the ground, a trip to the port-a-potty, and back again.
All routine.
All useless.
The footage continues, a dull parade of routine security checks interspersed with long stretches of stillness. My eyes burn from staring at the monitor by the time sunrise lightens the eastern edge of the screen.
“Nothing.” I lean back in the chair, which creaks in protest. “Again.”
Emily straightens, rolling her shoulders to release tension. “Our thief could have been one of the crew who returned with me to the mainland last night.”
