c o w a r d

“No I think- I think you’ll like this question, Remmy,” Val knew he hated the name but at the moment he was a little too drunk to care and honestly it was such a long name. “I’m just curious as to why someone would want to kill you. Besides the obvious reasons, you know. I just think it’s a bit weird-” he downed the whiskey, leaning against the railing for support, “that someone would want me to kill you?” This was definitely the wrong time to have this conversation and they most certainly weren’t in the right company, but he considered Remington a very important person in his life and he wasn’t about to let it go. “So yeah, there it is. Good question, huh?”

Remington’s mood soured as soon as he heard the nickname, and he definitely hadn’t had enough to drink to deal with it yet. The words that left Val’s mouth, however, made Remington pause. “You...kill me?” The idea was laughable, considering Remington thought himself capable enough to see if Val was out to get him. Since the man was telling him this, he figured he wouldn’t go through with it anyway. “Who told you to do that, Val?” He stepped closer, voice lowered, “Hm?” 

Loc: Yacht Deck

Who: @rxmington

After half the evening spent avoiding the elephant in the room dressed as the black swan, Valentine found himself standing at the edge of the boat to watch the water. A little bit drunk- as it swirled- a lot drunk. Masks were stupid. This whole thing was stupid. He half expected the thing to blow at any moment given the Faction’s idea of fun was planting bombs everywhere they could. Although, the idea of sinking down to the bottom of the river wasn’t exactly a terrible one, he wasn’t about to hedge his bets on this chilly night going swimmingly well.

He’d also never understood the reasoning behind wearing masks- it wasn’t like covering up eyebrows and cheekbones could sully an identity. He’d recognized the lot of them without even trying to. So when he looked to his left and saw Remington, he almost smiled- until he remembered. Careful to approach when no one was paying attention, he grabbed a glass from a waiter and offered it over. “I’ve got some questions and you are the only one who can answer them.”

Remington wasn’t sure what had possessed him to show up – despite the fact that it was expected of him. He’d tried to keep to himself, but the moment he heard Valentine’s voice, he knew he’d been outed. Now, he stifled a sigh, turning towards Valentine, “You ask so many questions, I’m surprised God had enough inquisitiveness to give to anyone else.” He glanced at the glass, taking it after only a brief amount of hesitation. “Thanks. Fine, what do you want me to answer this time?”

“Keep talking, and I might just kill you before we get back to Chicago,” he threatened, though it hardly held any malice behind the words. If their latest disagreement, or their current travel plans signified anything, it was how much Isek was stupidly in love with the man beside him. Even drunkenly, when they both talked themselves into going through with what they had always known was going to happen, Isek had promised everything to Remington. He promised him every single thing he possibly could in their chaotic world. And now laying here, in the honeymoon suite of some fancy hotel in Las Vegas, Isek found himself only wanting to go through with the plans they had conjured up three years ago.

“You assuming my parents haven’t already had them made,” he scoffed at the notion, moments before he was being pulled into another kiss. Isek had always known that Remington was his, even from the very first time they’d shared a sloppy and inexperienced kiss with each other. He had known this was inevitable from the first time he’d thought he’d overdosed, and Remington had come running to the hospital — for him. People had constantly come and gone from his life, leaving wreckage in their wake, but Remington had always been the one to help him pick up the pieces. Which is precisely why, when they’d exchanged ‘I Do’s’ on the alter of some two bit Vegas chapel, Isek had urged the other to take on the Kovali name, to finally accept where he had always belonged. “Oh, I have no doubt she will. She’ll probably make it look like an accident, too.” He agreed with a laugh, knowing that Emilia would likely cut his brakes once she’d found out they had eloped, and in Vegas of all places. “She’ll still insist on throwing a party,” he practically groaned the words, knowing that it will hardly be for the newly weds. Yet another downside of his family’s rule over the city. “Once we’re back in Chicago,” he suddenly spoke, shifting until he could snatch up Remington’s left hand, “I’ll be sure to get you a proper ring.” He mused, letting his lips press against the gaudy item they’d acquired from the chapel. It had been an unforeseen decision, and because of that, Isek hadn’t had a decent ring on him. But he’d rectify that, because Remington deserved that, and so much more.

“Kinky,” he teased, taking the threat with a grain of salt. Rolling his eyes, Remington huffed out a breath, “I’ve always been their favorite. Why else would Irena get me a gift and give it to me on your birthday?” he joked, sliding his hand down Isek’s shoulder and to his biceps. He almost wanted to think about Emir’s reaction; maybe the man would have a heart attack and fall over dead before he even had to do anything else. The world could only hope.

“Bold of you to assume that a party isn’t already in the works. She probably tracks your location on your phone. Little Chapel of Love? She already figured it out,” he grinned, though he was already embarrassed at the thought. A party for them would just bring disaster, as most Kovali parties did, and then they’d be spending half their honeymoon in a hospital pulling glass out of each other’s skin. Remington watched as Isek grabbed his hand, his gaze dropping to the gaudy, cheap thing they’d managed to grab for the ceremony. It had made him laugh, and to Remington, it didn’t really matter what it looked like, it was the meaning behind it all. He was forever Isek’s despite the words they’d thrown at each other just a few weeks prior. There was nothing left he was hiding, nothing that Isek didn’t know about him already. That was the most liberating thing about the marriage to him. “Can’t wait to see what it’ll look like, Mr. Kovali,” he hummed, already thinking about the one he’d planned on getting Isek. “When the city isn’t falling apart, I want to go to Europe,” he said slowly, his hand tracing patterns once more on Isek’s chest. Remington had never been outside of the United States; hell, outside of Chicago was a stretch as well. “Anywhere you want to go.”

@rxmington​

“We’re fucking idiots, you know that, right?” Isek couldn’t help the question as it slipped across his tongue, the corners of his lips quirked up into a smirk. He was nestled in the comfort of the pillows that had been strewn across the hotel bed, a few too many in his opinion but he was choosing to pay it no mind. It was a disgusting quality of the more high end hotels, and this one was no different. It was his birthday, however, which meant using his family’s money on the most outrageous of expenses. Not to mention the act that Remington and he had committed, ensuring that this room was very much needed.

“If you thought my family was going to kill you before,” he laughed as he trailed fingers through the other’s hair as he laid beside him. “Perhaps they’ll put us in graves beside each other.” He mused as he shifted his body to lay beside the other, gaze looking down at him. “Suppose you won’t get the chance to make an honest man out of me — Mr. Kovali.” He practically purred the name, grinning as he leaned down to press his lips to Remington’s.

"We? Speak for yourself,” he teased, his finger drawing idle patterns into Isek’s chest. He wasn’t sure how long they’d been there, but it never felt like it’d be quite long enough. He wanted to hide away in the hotel room for as long as they could; Chicago was a mess, and the only excuse to hide away for a few days was Iskender’s birthday. They were barely a month apart in age, and Remington had always found the whole thing oddly telling. It was like they were supposed to happen, and he wasn’t one to question it. Not when he had Isek’s fingers in his hair and his mouth against his own. 

Holding on to the kiss, Remington wrinkled his nose at the joke. He couldn’t be angry about it, and leave it to his other half to manage to make light about the whole thing. It was true, though, and Remi couldn’t help the laugh that escaped him. “Two halves of one whole idiot, yeah? I think they should put that on our gravestones.” He curled his fingers around the back of Isek’s neck, kissing him languidly once more. “You know they’ll only be pissed because they couldn’t throw a party. Your sister might murder you,” he grinned a little, the name already making him feel more at home with Isek. It was a last name he knew, and a last name that belonged to the one person he’d always loved more than anything else in the world he’d been given. No longer did he have to worry about Vaughn; about a name that had been tacked on needlessly since his mother didn’t have a clue – and she didn’t want him to have her own name, either. “Happy Birthday, aşkım.”

“You’re right, I should have. I’m sorry that I missed your twenty-ninth birthday, I should make it up to you.” Absolutely certain that she and Isek might come up with some sort of enjoyable adventure for the three of them to venture upon, Sera held no qualms that she could follow through with her promise. “Mmm, you may have others already ahead of you on that front.”

His words do little to assuage the sensation in the pit of her stomach, though she does not blame him for lacking answers. "I’ve thought of a thousand ways it could have been worse, thank you.” Leaning against the porch railing, she faced him with arms crossed over her midsection. “A hotel. I couldn’t stay home… I just–– I needed to separate myself from all of it.” 

He had no doubts she would, though that wasn’t what he was asking for. Remington had confessed something to Isek that had strained their relationship, but he still couldn’t share that with Sera. No, she was too close with Zephyr, and too close with people who would want his head. He may have been raised by the Kovali, but he had never felt more like an outsider.

“No, Remington, I don’t know that’s not true. I don’t know if anything coming out of your mouth is the truth.” He shot back, anger lacing each of his words as they slid across his tongue. In a small part of his mind, Isek knew that he was overreacting, knew that he was bundling up all the hurt and anger from each betrayal, and using that to lash out at Remington. “You’ve been lying to me for three years. You lied about Azra, you lied about Emir. What the fuck else are you lying about?” It was that question that spurred on the doubts in Isek’s mind, that made him want to question everything about the man before him; his past, his loyalty, his love. Betrayal was the one thing in this life that Isek could never take lightly, allowing it to shift and morph his thoughts without the slightest bit of consideration.

Perhaps if he had been the same Isek from three years ago, perhaps if he hadn’t dealt with one betrayal after the next, he would have stepped back and considered the choices that Remington had had. Perhaps he would have taken into account the panic attacks the man had dealt with his entire life, the ones that Isek had eased him out of on several different occasions. But he wasn’t the same Isek, and he had done far worse things than the other him would have ever done in the last three years. “Is that supposed to make this any better?” He sneered the words, anger and hurt making him say stupid things. This was the man he loved, the man that had stood by his side since they were teenagers, who had seen the worst of him and had continued to support him. But Isek couldn’t see past the anger clouding his vision.

Eyes narrowed quickly at the question, at the allegation of what Isek had wanted all those years ago. He bristled with unease as the words continued, as Remington drilled each and every one of them into him. No, his parents surely wouldn’t have let him go so easily, despite how troublesome he had been to the entire Kovali reign. Isek had once only cared about seeing how far he could push his control, to see what he was able to get away with before his father stepped in to remind him of where he stood. “My betrayal wouldn’t have sent Emir to prison. My betrayal wouldn’t have caused someone to take on a life they never wanted,” his voice was low, jaw clenching as he contained the anger that only wanted to see him lash out once again. Fingers pressed roughly against the wall, doing everything in his power to not slam his fist through it once again. “Don’t,” he snapped, “don’t say you love me when you’ve been lying to me all this time. I would have done anything for you, Remington. I would have protected you, kept you safe from anyone.” But the circumstances had changed, the other had lied to him, to his family for three years. And now with Emir out, with his brother back in the folds of the family, he didn’t know what was to come next.

Isek didn’t have much time to consider it, gaze snapping to the weapon as it came into view, his body momentarily tensing before it was pressed into his chest. One of his hands slipped from the wall, retreating to take hold of the weapon that had been forced upon him. His gaze stayed on it, listening to the words as his fingers curled tightly around the grip. He knew exactly how much it weighed, but in that moment, with Remington’s words washing over him, the weapon felt so much heavier. Taking a deep breath, he stepped back, “Is that what you want then?” His narrowed eyes lifted once more to his other half, arm raising to point the weapon directly at Remington’s chest, “You want me to kill you?” The question tasted vile as it slipped across his tongue, twisting and turning his gut. His thumb reached up, cocking the weapon as his fingers tightened around the grip, knuckles damn near turning white. “You want to prove them right? Show them how much of a fucking coward you are?” He wanted the words to sting, wanted Remington to hurt as much as he did. It wouldn’t matter though, for in the end, Isek would never be able to pull the trigger. Even now, his finger wouldn’t dare move over it, pressed into the side of the muzzle instead.

“Nothing. I have....I have fucking nothing left,” the words slipped from his mouth easily, already feeling the sting of tears hit his eyes. Remington hated being so soft. He always had been. In fact, Remington Vaughn wasn’t cut out for the Kovali lifestyle. He wasn’t as angry, or even as brutal as they had tried to train him to be. He’d been a lost and scared teenager who was prone to panic attacks, and had struggled with his own sense of belonging. The mention of Azra only had his eyes rolling, considering that had been wildly out of his control as well. “If you really thought I didn’t love you – if you really fucking thought I was never loyal to you – you would’ve seen through me a long time ago.” Already, he’d felt his resolve crumbling slowly ever since Emir had been released at prison. He’d never hidden anything from Iskender, even admitting the dark troubles of his young life on the streets. The abuse he’d suffered, and everything in between. 

He could tell that Isek was allowing every emotion cloud his judgement. Remington had expected as much, but he didn’t expect to hurt the way he did. “Your betrayal?” he shot back, staring at Isek like he couldn’t believe what he was saying. Huffing out a breath, he curled his hands into fists, “Now we’re on some scale for measuring betrayal? Fucking listen to yourself, Isek. I kept your secret for all this time. Your secret of wanting to run away, but suddenly mine is unforgivable? You would’ve killed yourself with drugs, and I would’ve had to stand by and watch that. You didn’t listen to me! You didn’t love me enough to fucking give them up, did you? Not until I put you in the spot you’re in now. Because the whole goddamn thing was an accident – but here we are.” 

Isek’s next words left Remington quiet. He couldn’t find anything left to say that he hadn’t already. It’d been a while since he felt like he’d been played a fool, and maybe that’s all this was. “Because that’s how you see me, right? As someone you can fucking control? What am I to you, Iskender? Your partner or your possession?” His gaze dropped to the gun, though he didn’t have much resolve left in him. If he was to die, at least it’d be by Isek’s hand. There was nothing more he wanted to do than reach out, hold on to the one good thing he’d managed to find in his life and the mess it had become. Perhaps if Isek had paid more attention to how he felt, things could’ve been avoided. Isek could’ve realized this life wasn’t meant for someone like Remington. 

It was all true, and it always would be true. “I know I’m a fucking coward, Isek,” he breathed out, the tear finally sliding down his cheek. He already felt like he couldn’t breathe; like his chest was going to concave. “And I live that night over and over again in my head. Wishing I had fucking – that I could’ve moved. That I could’ve saved him. Because I loved him, Isek. As much as I could love anyone in my family.” He hadn’t been the one to send him to prison – no, that’d been the reporter, stacking false evidence against someone that would’ve barely had anything on him. Taking a step forward, he waited until the barrel pressed against his chest, digging through the material of his shirt. He reached up, holding on to Isek’s wrist, “It’s okay.”

She’d heard it before, believed it before but no matter how many times three simple words might have long since left her stomach turning with uncertainty, it doesn’t this time. Nic only wonders briefly if it’s because he’s there, because she can quite literally feel him despite the trembling of her entire frame with the unforgiving mottling of pain that blooms underskin. Lips purse tightly as he sets her down and she knows..– she knows that there’s nothing she can tell him that doesn’t implicate herself all the more. “He just..–” Internally, she cursed herself for speaking too quickly in the moments before. Faction. He’s faction. It didn’t leave a whole lot of room for any sense of a white lie to topple her lips now, but there’s no mistaking the crumbling sense of relief that maybe.. maybe she doesn’t have to lie through her teeth or piece together something far more exhausting than the truth. “T-that,” the bottle of water she took from him settled in against her knees, the pads of her fingers pressing in against the split of her lip until they came away with crimson. “He .. he said they owned me, that I couldn’t,” she swallowed thickly, “Couldn’t keep playing both sides without.. without..” Her throat constricts and she’s choking back against tears she doesn’t want shed anymore. “It’s my fault.. this is..– what happened, at the festival it’s..” And maybe, she’s sealing her own fate, but Nic Pelletier has been tired for years, and maybe.. maybe she’s just ready for some kind of reprieve and some part of her settles just enough to level hues with his, “They’re gonna’ kill me, Remi.” And she knows he hates it, hates the nickname, hates the way it sounds, but.. “And if they don’t then..–” The Kovali would after they knew the hand she played in all too many moves against them.

There was an enormous amount of information in her words, Remington knew it. Even though she didn’t have much to say, the words she’d chosen told him enough. It was always going to come down to this. There was a point in time that Remi knew he wouldn’t be able to protect Nic anymore, no longer attempt to be any kind of buffer in any situation. Hell, he could hardly do it with Isek. But with the Faction’s involvement, and with Nic being known to sleep with what was easily considered the enemy, well, Remington’s involvement was coming to an end. He just didn’t think it would cost him the nice turkish rug in the other room. But what they did have in common was their ability to recognize when death was knocking on their door. 

“What did you do? The festival. What did you do?” He repeated the words, his tone getting far more stern than it had been moments before. Remington had always been gentle with her, but he couldn’t. Not anymore. Not while things were getting out of Nic’s control; he couldn’t have that in his bar, especially when Emir Kovali wanted his head. “Then someone here will,” he finished her thought for her, again moving her hair out of her face so he could see her tear stained features. It almost reminded him of Cassidy; of the level of aggression he’d been forced to take with her. He didn’t want to do that again, but her words were only giving him more questions than answers, “Tell me, Nic. What did you fucking do?”

It’d been a very long time since she’d heard her name said softly- like the person who spoke it actually cared about her in some fashion. She’d always valued Remington, even though he was on the opposite side of the war. It was a pity she wasn’t able to help with his books any more- just meant she didn’t see him quite as often. And her concern for his well being came from a genuine place. She settled onto the seat beside, resting her hands in her lap before she had the urge to envelope him in a hug. Maybe he needed one. “Nah I refuse to believe that you exist outside of the club. Impossible. It’s like spotting a teacher outside of school,” she caught herself- realizing that perhaps he might not have had that luxury.

For how different their lives had been, she was grateful that she’d never been taught to view those without a disgustingly excessive amount of money as lesser or without worth. Her father had been kind enough to teach her that everyone had worth. No matter who they were or where they came from. “Were you ever afraid? Of being on the streets?” The man she’d taken notice of had become a bit more agitated now, speaking louder to seemingly no one. She glanced toward him before brushing it off and returning her attention to her friend. “Do you miss it sometimes?”

“A teacher outside of school? Wow, didn’t know I held such authority,” he teased her quietly, unable to garner any amount of ill will towards Lennox. Their paths hardly crossed as of late, and while it had been quite some time since they’d actually sat down together, Remington hardly felt the need to change things. Not while his world was spinning out of his control; not like this. 

Remington glanced at the woman yet again, though his gaze had wandered towards the agitated man who was also in their train car. “Yes,” he answered as truthfully as he could, though he wasn’t sure how in depth he should go. There were things he’d admitted to no one outside of Sera and Isek; things he’d seen, and things that had happened to him. “You know that only the worst of the worst run these streets...and that’s not including my family.” Family. Kovali. The word felt like it no longer belonged on his lips, but he hoped it didn’t come across that way to Lennox. “No, not really. I miss the simplicity – but I don’t miss not knowing whether or not I was going to be able to sleep someplace comfortably. But we don’t have to keep on talking about me. I’d rather not bore you to tears.”

Loc: Train Car

Who: @rxmington

The break of the moon through the clouds offered something prettier to look at than the rolling fog over the river. Catching the late line had been a spur of the moment decision- she’d wanted to get out town for a couple days. That had been first mistake. Seeking escape from the droll of the issues that she’d caused herself, but she hadn’t been able to face her problems. And face the fact that it was entirely her own life choices that had ruined something good. The train car was quiet for the most part. A man muttering a few seats up had drawn her attention but it was the familiar face only one row up to her left that shifted her from her seat. 

“Remington?” Her brow furrowed as she settled a palm on the seat. “What are you doing away from The Cabaret?” She hadn’t seen him in months and if she was being honest, he wasn’t looking like he was at his best. In fact, he looked almost…desolate. “Is everything okay?”

He wasn’t sure what he was doing on the train. Maybe it was the fact that he used to ride the damn thing around Chicago religiously – taking himself from one place to the next, routes memorized as well as the times. There had been a point in time where he’d had every street in Chicago memorized like the back of his hand. Yet the years had come and gone, and his priorities had shifted as well, and all he had left was the memory of that person he used to be, as well as wonder what happened to him. 

The voice which rang out behind her became enough to root Sera in place, one of only two she truly desired to hear in this moment and were she a betting woman, wagering on Isek’s proximity within the home could have been a safe call. As it were, she remained grateful that Remi hadn’t called for his attention; facing them both in tandem when her resolve still wavered might have become catastrophic. “And you missed mine.” Though that had been more of her own doing than anyone else’s, the space she required so desperately enough to solidify a form of isolation.

Inhaling slowly, she finally pivots to face him as hues lift ever so slowly to meet the familiar gaze of her best friend. “I don’t know.” The words whispered out to fill whatever space remained between them. “I still feel like my entire world was ripped out from underneath me.”

“But mine was after yours, so...you should’ve at least reached out by then,” Remington shrugged his shoulders like he didn’t make the rules, but it wasn’t like he was yet thirty, and that made him feel better about it all. “I’m still on the other side of the big three zero, so I think that counts for something. We might as well start planning your funeral soon.” He was still leaning against the door, his back resting against it with his arms crossed over his chest. What else was there to say? He wasn’t sure.

Too many thoughts shifted through his mind, each one becoming increasingly more worrisome as he waited to hear the explanation that Remington was going to give him. Despite the growing concern over the disagreement that was had between his other half and his brother, Isek stayed relatively patient. It was very much unlike him, but he knew that this wasn’t the time to push Remington, to force him to get to the point rather than beat around the bush. So he stayed quiet, only stepping back when the other got to his feet, his gaze on him the entire time. He didn’t know what the other was going to say, didn’t know what he should expect until Remington was opening his mouth, and the words started to tumble out.

Shock was an understatement to the jolt that shot through his body, fingers curling tightly against the palms of his hands, nails biting sharply into the soft skin. Remington and Emir had a disagreement about who was going to die first. The words repeated over and over again in his head, anger battling with confusion for the topic of conversation. It didn’t make sense to him, why the disagreement was spurred on to begin with, what had caused it to be brought up. Though his relationship with his brother had been rocky at best, Isek hadn’t assumed that Remington and Emir’s was bad enough to warrant the need to argue over who was going to die. Nor for it to have turned to blows. So he waited further, praying that Remington got to the explanation quickly, before his anger once more took control.

“What?” The word was sudden, slipping off his tongue seemingly of its own accord as he heard Remington’s plea, using what Isek had said days ago against him. Confusion flashed in his features, brows tugged together as he took a step towards the other, only for him to step back, pressing himself into the wall that was behind him. We were supposed to run away, Isek. The words stung, reminding him of a time long ago when he had wanted nothing more than to get out of the city, to get as far away from his family and their hold as he could. And he had wanted to do it all with Remington. He had wanted to start a new life with the man opposite him, to never have to worry about the Kovali reign ever again. But then Emir had gone to jail, and he was thrust into the chair that his brother had once occupied, robbing him of his chance to escape. But why was Remington bringing that up now?

His patience was growing thin, his need to know what Remington was getting at starting to consume him to the point that he almost opened his mouth to demand what he needed to know. But he could see it, the fear in the other’s eyes, the rising panic written all over his face, and then — I was there. It felt like ice was in his veins, a chill cascading down his spine to send shivers across his limbs, bumps appearing across his smooth skin. “You what?” The question was spoken lowly, Isek unsure even of the emotions coursing through him. As the words continued to tumble from the other’s tongue, he couldn’t stop himself as he started forward, slowly but surely eliminating the space that separated one from the other. Lips rolled together as he tried to fit the pieces together, working out each and every little detail that had been given to him. Over the last three years, Isek had been thrust into a position that he had never wanted, was forced to do things that had made his stomach turn, and eventually he had grown to start liking it. But every bit of the last three years could have been avoided — if only the man in front of him had done what he needed to do.

“We were supposed to run away,” he repeated the words Remington had used against him minutes ago, his voice dangerously low as he stopped a mere few inches from the other. His eyes were cold, narrowed as he stared into the features of the man he loved most in this world. “You would’ve done it for me — but instead you took the chance away from me, away from us.” His gaze shifted over the features of the other, trying to look past the fear and panic, trying to find some semblance of betrayal. He knew that even if Remington hadn’t froze, even if he hadn’t fallen victim to another one of his panic attacks, there was no telling whether that would have saved Emir, or even prevented all that had happened afterwards from happening. Or at least, he knew he should know that. Instead, Isek focused on the aftermath, on what had happened to him, to them because of his brother’s incarceration.

And the anger that rose within him was too much to ignore. Before he could stop himself, his fist slammed into the wall just to the right of Remington’s head, lodging itself into the plaster and drywall. His chest rose and fell rapidly with the heavy breaths that he was taking in, the sound of his heart beat echoing in his ear. “You sent him to prison,” he hissed through clenched teeth, narrowed eyes focused solely on the features of the other. “You put me in his fucking place. You lied to me for three fucking years.” The words were spoken in pure disdain, Isek slowly retracting his hand from the wall, not caring for the split skin across his knuckles or the blood that now slid down his fingers. “You betrayed our fucking family.”

Isek allowed the words to hang in the air between them, allowed them to sink in as he mulled over those spoken out of fear. His jaw clenched several times as he tried to settle on what he wanted to say, what he needed to say to the man pressed against the wall in front of him. “He’s not going to kill you,” he finally spoke, voice just as low as it had been moments before. Hands lifted to press against the wall on either side of Remington, Isek’s eyes boring into those of the other, “He’s not going to kill you, because if he does, I’ll kill him.” 

Remington had always been able to read Isek better than anyone else. It’s why they got along so well in the beginning, and it’s why their relationship had progressed to what it was now. But even Remi couldn’t stop the fear that chilled him to the core. Was he ever afraid of Iskender? The answer was no. But for now, he figured he should be, just in case his volatile other half chose the wrong thing to say, or the wrong thing to blame him for. He narrowed his eyes, a retort on the tip of his tongue until Isek was blaming him for their failed attempt at skipping town. How everything had oh so suddenly and completely changed. “You know that’s not true,” he growled out, keeping his head back against the wall despite his small ounce of bravery he still had left. He could own up to his own mistakes, but he would not take the fall for anything else.

The slamming of Isek’s fist against the wall had him flinching, the sound of the drywall shattering beneath the other’s hand echoing in his ear. He still didn’t move, able to take the digs for what they were – an over-exaggerated truth. “I didn’t mean to,” he breathed, trying to take most of the anger out of his voice. A shouting match wouldn’t help either of them, and Remington was always the softer of the two. The gentle half, or the one that didn’t seem to be as scary as the rest of the Kovali. He’d played his part, but this was taking it too far. 

“And your idea of running away wouldn’t have been betrayal?” he shot back, blue eyes filled with the last bit of desperation he knew he had. “You – running away from your family, this life – that wouldn’t have been betrayal? They would’ve just, what, let you go?” he closed his mouth when Isek closed the distance between them, and even though Remington had backed himself into a corner, Isek had trapped him between his arms. “You think I’ve just been happy living like this for three years? I’ve loved you for so fucking long, Isek. What would you have done? Blame it on me like you are now? There was nothing – there was nothing I could’ve done.” No, he’d panicked and he’d fallen victim to the one thing Isek had helped him work through for years, the one thing Emir had helped him work through for years. 

Iskender’s declaration had Remington paling, only because he knew that wasn’t going to end the way Isek wanted it to. While Remi could care about himself, he cared about the fact that Isek was getting in over his head. “No, Isek. You’re not,” he breathed, letting his shoulders sag in defeat. He reached behind him, pulling out the loaded gun he’d had tucked into the waistband of his pants. He pushed it flat against Isek’s chest, waiting for the other man to take it, “Then finish it, Isek. If you won’t let your brother do it, then you do it. If you really see this as the big fucking betrayal, then finish it. Kill me yourself. Get your fucking revenge for big brother. The same guy who wants to see you fail.”

All she knew, was that the boot to her ribs never came despite the inward flinch of every muscle in her body and Remington’s voice sounded far more distant than it should have as she kept her face covered, huddled against the wall with baited breath. The touch to her wrist sent a tremor through her but noting that it was far softer than what found her before drew doe hues, glazed over, to what might very well have been the only man she trusted so vibrantly and the heaved sigh of relief as he helped her to her feet to lean against him was pitched in the ache already blooming in forming bruises as she nodded silently beside him.  She’d never been relatively new to the sound of a bullet being fired, but something about this echoed through the very marrow of her bones and there was no hiding the way her own body reacted to the sound. Tensing, she curled in on herself and something of a whimper slipped through her lips knowing damn well that she didn’t want to look up knowing what she’d see, and maybe, If Remington hadn’t sought her out again, she might have collapsed beneath the weight of being somewhat at fault for the body that now crumpled to the floor. That somehow, this would come back to bite her just as everything else did. She could taste blood, the bitter, metallic density not unfamiliar to her as she used Remington’s frame to solidify the single step it took to draw her in as she pressed in against his chest as the swarming feeling in her head became overwhelming.  Maybe she’d blacked out, somewhere between that.. room and his office. Her head felt like it was filled with cotton wool and no amount of picking it apart would free her the heavy feeling that swelled in her temples even when the couch beneath her threatened to swallow her whole. “I don’t..– no.. I don’t know who.” A trembling hand rose to the swell of her lip, “He’s faction.. was faction. They’re..–” It pierced the organ in her chest to know that she shouldn’t be talking about this, but comfort was something she’d gone far too long without, even as she saw beyond the blistering pain and reached to curl digits into the fabric of his shirt just beyond his shoulder, the shame the bloomed in this being on her was… stifling . “I..– they’re.. I owe them, but I don’t.– I don’t know who he was.”

Remington wrapped his arms around Nic, holding on to her tightly as she finally collapsed against him. He knew he wasn’t the best form of support, but he tried, and that always seemed to be good enough. “I got you,” he breathed out, essentially picking her up at this point. It was easier to do so, his hand sliding down to hike her legs around his waist so he could carry her. Backing out of the room, he kicked the door open to the one across from it, one that didn’t have a body or any blood in it. Setting her down on the couch, Remington disentangled their bodies, and he stayed there crouching beside her, “Think, Nic.” 

He pulled his hand away from her knee, standing up to grab the nearest bottle of water. Holding it out to her, he glanced over his shoulder at one of the bouncers. “Ice – go get it. Then take care of the body.” Maybe he shouldn’t have killed the guy so quickly, but his anger had won out in the end. And now Nic was hurt – and he was trying his best. “What did he say to you?”

“I’ve got piles of shit in storage but I don’t know how much of it will be helpful. I think they were paid off because they shipped me straight into foster care and usually that takes a lot longer than a day. I’ve been over my Dad’s books a few times but I think with someone else looking at them maybe they might be able to see something I missed. I know he was planning on burning the Lanoix’s for some reason- that had to be why they were targeted but…I don’t know. And me approaching Anika’s bitch ass isn’t going to do much good. She can’t stand me but maybe she might help you.”

Remington rose an eyebrow, looking at Val for a few moments. “Social Workers came for me, you know. Instead I spent a month sleeping on the streets and avoiding police.” Then Irena came to his rescue, and the rest was history after that. He hummed, looking back at Val. “Anika? Okay...fine, tell me more about what you want from Anika.”

He felt vulnerable like this- standing in the middle of a very crowded place, spilling things he’d been better to keep to himself. But he trusted Remington- trusted Remington like he trusted Zephyr and that spoke volumes about the lengths he was willing to go for the other man. So it was easy- to come to him first, to ask for help when he’d normally throw himself into the fire and burn alive for the sake of keeping what little secrets he could to himself. But it had been twenty one years- were the people who’d done it even still living? He didn’t know- this life carried a expiration date, after all. He breathed a sigh of relief, turning to look at Rem, “Thank you.” The tension dropped and he looked back out toward the street. “I know it was someone who worked with the Lanoix’s, and I know the police didn’t bother investigating it. I remember what they look like though. One of them, the tallest, had a long scar running down the left side of his face. Turned his mouth up into a snarl. The other two were really young. Probably early twenties.”

Remington gave a small nod towards Val when the other thanked him, letting the gratitude end there. He normally didn’t do anything like this, especially not without a price. He knew how most Kovali members acted, and he had done his part the same way. But he’d let Val have this one, just because Remi was sure he had nothing left to lose. “Don’t mention it. Anyway, you think the police were paid off? You go through any records or anything like that?” He hoped there was a starting point besides this one. 

She cannot recall the exact moment of her disappearance from the Kovali business, cannot pinpoint even the day, but Sera Karan knows that she has been vacant for just over a month. Yet eternally married to the job and unable to sever ties entirely, she has born witness to the calamity over these past few weeks… Albeit at a distance. The hotel’s television trained upon news of Irena’s arrest, the riots, the police raids–– including that of her own establishment. Her phone filled to the brim with unopened messages and unheard voicemails as she attempted to quell the unfathomable betrayal which haunted her behind weighted lids; perhaps even now she had yet to reach a place of forgiveness. 

It had been a singular message on the sixteenth of September, which she managed to glance over as it arrived, that softened an impenetrable shell against the majority. Happy Birthday, Sera. Emilia’s name and the accompanying emojis placed by the younger woman enough to spur the capo into opening it. Seven days later she discovered herself on the compound doorstep, loathing that emotion had torn her away from this world and simultaneously dragged her back in the same manner.

The keys tremble within her palm and Sera cannot bring herself to physically open the door. What would she even say? Had enough anger left her body over these past four weeks to prevent lashing out at the nearest figure? This was a mistake. Shaking dark tresses in the evening light, she pivots on the gilded stoop to head back towards the vehicle parked in the shadows when a familiar face appears and all movement comes to a heavy pause.

“––I was just leaving.”

“You missed my birthday.” 

Remington was leaning against the doorway, arms crossed over his chest as he looked over at Sera. She’d been gone for a while, understandably so, but he wasn’t sure he really was to blame for that. He knew Zephyr was the one who had hurt her to the core, and while he and Isek were her friends, he knew what was there between her and Zephyr. Remington had felt like his life was crumbling around him. Irena was in prison, Emir had decided that he wasn’t going to stay silent any longer. The list went on and on, and he still couldn’t bring himself to tell Sera the issues between him and the elder Kovali. 

“Are you okay?” It was a loaded question, but one that Remington wanted a truthful answer for.