Against All Rules

Chapter 5: I Watch

The rain stopped by morning, leaving the streets shiny and clean under the sunlight. But even as I walked into Westbridge University, my mind kept drifting back to last night — the dark street, the police tape, and those two simple words: Take the other route.

I told myself over and over it was just a coincidence. Just luck. But try as I might, I couldn’t shake that feeling anymore. It was like finding one loose thread on a sweater — small, harmless at first… but you know if you pull it, the whole thing might unravel.

When I stepped into Lecture Hall B, I did something I didn’t even realize I was doing at first.

My eyes went straight to the back row.

And there he was.

Carson. Right in his usual spot. Leaned back in his chair, arms crossed over his chest, looking as if nothing unusual had happened at all. No mention of last night, no change in his expression, not even a glance that said I saw you home safely. Just the same quiet, distant presence he always was.

It should have annoyed me, honestly. How could he warn me like that and then act like it never even happened? But instead… I just felt that same strange sense of calm settle over the room.

“There he is,” I thought before I could stop myself.

And then immediately: Stop it, Sophie. That is not normal. You don’t need to check if a student is in class.

“Oh right — attendance. Of course it’s normal,” I whispered to myself, brushing it off.

But the habit had already started.

All through the lesson, I caught myself doing it — looking up from my notes, scanning the room, and my gaze always landing right on him. It was automatic now. Like he’d become my reference point. If he was there, everything felt in order. If he wasn’t… something felt missing.

Today we were going through a complex case about organized crime — one of the topics I knew best, both as a lawyer and as an analyst. I explained how groups like this operated, how they stayed hidden, how they always seemed to be ten steps ahead of law enforcement.

“These organizations don’t break laws randomly,” I told the class. “They don’t survive by being reckless. They survive because they understand every single loophole, every weakness in the system. They know the rules better than the people who wrote them. That’s what makes them so hard to catch.”

A few students nodded, taking notes and asking small questions. But from the back, that familiar voice spoke up — calm, steady, and sounding like he was describing something he saw every single day.

“Because rules only apply to people who have something to lose.”

The room went quiet.

Carson didn’t move, didn’t shift his gaze from me. He just said it like it was the simplest truth in the world.

I paused, pen hovering over my notes. There it is again, I thought. Where does that kind of understanding come from?

“You’re right,” I said slowly. “Exactly. To them, the law is just another obstacle to work around.”

He gave the smallest tilt of his head — almost like agreement — then went silent again.

After class, everyone packed up and left as usual. But today, I found myself walking toward the back row before I even made the decision to do it.

Carson stood up, ready to leave, when I stopped right in front of his desk.

He looked down at me — tall, imposing, those dark eyes holding nothing but quiet attention. Waiting.

“Mr. Carson,” I said, keeping my voice steady. “About last night…”

I wasn’t even sure what I wanted to ask. How did you know? Why did you warn me? Do you do this for everyone? But the words got stuck in my throat.

He waited a beat, then answered like he already knew exactly what I was thinking.

“Street fights happen often after rain. People get careless.”

That was it. Short, simple, logical enough to make sense on the surface. But it didn’t explain how he knew which street, or why he cared enough to say something.

I stared at him, searching for any sign of what he wasn’t saying. “You seem to know a lot about how things work outside textbooks.”

His expression didn’t change. “I watch.”

And that was all. No more explanation. He just walked around me and headed for the door, leaving me standing there with more questions than answers.

I sighed softly, turning back to gather my things.

He watches, I repeated to myself. He sees things no one else does. He knows things he shouldn’t. And somehow… wherever he is, I feel safer.

It was confusing. It was wrong, probably. But it was true.

Last night, I thought I’d avoided danger by chance.

Now I was starting to wonder… if the danger had never even been allowed to reach me in the first place.