Page 19 of Pack Me Up

And the twins’ scents are a warm mocha. It’s a rich, sweet combination of coffee and chocolate. Colton has the smallest undertone of vanilla, and Cody’s scent is threaded with caramel. They smell like a perfect sweet treat together.

Hunter grins, all teeth. “If it gets weird, just say so. We’ll back off.”

“It’s fine,” I say, and for a second I think I mean it.

They don’t talk about what’s happening, but the room gets smaller, the energy thicker, and charged. The server brings dessert, a flourless chocolate something, and Saint slices it clean down the middle, sending the first piece directly to me.

“You deserve to be taken care of,” he says, voice gone soft and dangerous.

I don’t answer. I don’t have to.

The meal ends. No one rushes. They all linger, talking over each other, stories of old jobs, near misses, the one time Hunter set a yacht on fire by accident. I let myself just listen, letting thesounds and scents of them saturate the cracks in my armor. I want this to work.

The restaurant empties around us, the last servers dragging chairs onto tables, the kitchen going dark behind a battered swinging door. We’re still at the booth with our empty dessert plates in front of us.

Saint shifts the conversation. “We need to talk about your safety. Have you ever worked with private security before?”

I shake my head. “Only the minimum. Door guys. Some of them thought they were the real deal, but most were just killing time.”

Saint nods, as if that’s the answer he expected. “Our team is different. We run like a unit. If something goes down, you do exactly what we say, no exceptions. Understood?”

The air changes, all the warmth leached out in a heartbeat. I nod, matching his intensity.

He holds my eyes a second longer, then relaxes. “Good.”

The mood’s gone serious. I feel it in my bones like a change in pressure.

Saint clears his throat. “We need to talk about your living situation.”

It’s not a question. The words drop with the weight of command.

I glance at Fox, Hunter, then Colton and Cody, but no one offers a rescue. Saint waits, the barest twitch in his jaw, like he’s already heard my answer and is just waiting for me to catch up.

“I’m fine,” I say, though my hands are already betraying me, twisting the napkin in my hands. “Oli’s old apartment has good security, or she never would have lived there.”

“It’s not safe,” Saint says, calm and absolute. “You’re visible now. First shows are always the riskiest. If it were up to me, you would have been moved to a secure house yesterday.”

My laugh is too sharp. “You make it sound like I’m a mob witness.”

Cody shrugs. “Showbiz isn’t that different, and your family is an added threat.”

Colton leans over, voice soft. “We know how to keep people safe, Brittney. It’s literally all we do.”

Saint’s eyes narrow. “We need you in one place. Our place. You’ll have your own room, full access, twenty-four hour watch. No surprise guests, no unvetted deliveries, no chance of someone getting to you through a window or elevator shaft.”

Every word is a wall. I feel myself shrinking, the old fear worming its way through my chest.

“I can’t just move in with you,” I say. “I don’t even know you.”

Saint tips his chin up, measuring. “You know us better than you know your old building manager, or your taxi driver, or any of your neighbors.”

I want to argue. I glance at Fox again, and this time he meets my eyes, gentle but unwavering.

“You don’t have to decide now,” Fox says, voice soft. “But it’s safer and we’re not the worst company.”

Hunter cuts in, bouncing his leg. “You can say no. We’ll double up on patrols until you change your mind.”

I’m not sure how I feel about the idea of a rotation of them, always hovering just out of sight.