Armando looked away from his own desk which was off to the side away from the original AMMO members—he had his own personal sticker thanks to the amusement of the team which read: does not play well with others right on the side of the table, he fully turned to face Rafe who laughed it up.

“C’moooooon, That was the best one!” Rafe held his hands up in defense.

Dorn rolled his eyes with a shake of his head, “not only are you annoyingly distracting, you also reek, dude. What the hell are you drinking?”

The ADHD must be kicking in as Rafe now had one hand on his phone, texting away with his thumb, giving Armando enough time to sneak up and catch a glimpse of a bikini photo that looked awfully familiar before Rafe quickly locked his phone. He clears his throat, lifting his head to meet Armando standing over him.

“Can I help you? Ever heard of personal space?”

Armando lifts his chin, his voice naturally low as he states, “Let me see your phone.”

“Uhhhh? No?”

“I’m not asking.”

“Which is exactly why I’m not handing it over.” Rafe smirked.

Armando crossed his arms, “You got something to hide?”

“No.” Rafe scoffed, “I just don’t appreciate you standing over me like you’re fucking Michael myers or something, making demands. We’re not even friends and I know you got your own phone, whether it’s from your deadbeat dad or from some dirty money you probably have stashed away.”

Hands were placed right on Rafe, making Dorn widen his eyes from his spot at the sound of impact while he sat at the end of the desk. Armando had his hands right at Rafe’s shirt, but not without slapping his hands flat against Rafe’s chest, almost knocking the wind out of him as Armando bunched up his shirt while he got right in Rafe’s face. “…Seems like you had a lot to say about me behind my back, so why don’t you say it all to my face this time?”

“Yeah okay…” Rafe starts as he sizes Armando up, “Maybe you should go on your lunch break because you’re doing a lot right now. More than usual.”

Armando doesn’t miss a beat, “Maybe I should ask your girl to join me instead. You know the one? The one you keep stringing along and is also the mother of your baby girl?”

Rafe tightens his square jaw, “what the fuck are you getting at, bro?”

Armando darkens his stare, “I see right through you, bro.”

“Oh yeah?”

“So I’m actually going to ask you a question that I already know the answer to: are you fucking my wife?”

Kelly and Dorn both flick their gazes to each other’s.

Rafe licks his full lips, breaking eye contact for a moment, but he knew he had an audience so he keeps his usual persona up, “…I’ll give her back if you want?”

And that was enough for Armando to swing. He didn’t need to know the details from Rafe but he needed to make the message clear, it was always fuck Rafe around these parts, and he stood on that. However Rafe wasn’t one to back down from a fight and sure he maybe taller than Armando, the well known muscle of the team but none of that means anything to Armando. He’s had plenty of bodies left to rot all over—so in short—none of these men were punks.

“As much as I love a good fight, I’m exhausted dealing with you assholes everyday! So cut the shit.” Kelly yells, one arm pressed up against Rafe’s throat on the other side of the room while Dorn is also holding Armando back.

Dorn nods, “We’re supposed to be a team, here!”

“He sucker punched me in the face!” Rafe points, “and we were forced to work with his bitch ass anyways!”

Armando pants, “The only backstabbing bitch I see here is you, motherfucker.”

“Oh whatever! I don’t owe you anything. You’re in your feelings over a chick that just wasn’t that into you and you knew that so you want to take it out on me.” Rafe yells, “face it, you got played by someone that was forced to be with you because of mommy dearest.”

Armando laughs humorlessly, ducking underneath Dorn’s arms but he jogs right after him, grabbing his wrists and pulling them back while yanking Armando, “I’m surprised it took this long for someone to knock you on your ass.”

“Oh it’s been awhile.” Kelly chimes in over her shoulder.

Rafe rolls his eyes, recalling just what Kelly was talking about, “I’d split your eyebrow open if it wasn’t for Mr. And Mrs. Smith here. And you got me while I was sitting, which is weak by the way.”

Armando shrugs, “what difference would it make? you’d still be garbage.”

“All that anger should go to someone who cares and newsflash, it’s not me.” Rafe mockingly grins at the ex-crime boss.

Dorn interupts, “wait…all this is over y/n? Rafe…the one you were sexting and talking about is y/n?”

Kelly throws her head back with a shake of her head, just wondering why her boyfriend would add more salt to the wound. Dorn sometimes ended up speaking his thoughts out loud before thinking them over, truly.

“Ding! Ding! Ding! Someone gets an B-!”

However that didn’t stop Kelly from shoving her forearm tighter up the dark haired man’s throat, making him wheeze. Rafe raises his hand in surrender as a sign that he was just joking.

“That’s fucked up, dude.” Dorn slowly loosen’s his grip on Armando who side eyes him for holding him back, then fixes his shirt, “on so many levels.”

The four in the room couldn’t erase the tension but two familiar forms definitely could.

“What is going on in here?!” Captain Secada demanded, as she viewed the damage to the tech, Rafe’s busted lip, who tried to hide the evidence by pulling his lips into his mouth, spilled fruit soda dripping off the counter and onto the desk chair, Kelly let’s go of the Asian man, placing her hands on her hips as she looked back and forth between the men in further irritation, Dorn awkwardly scratches the back of his head, and Armando appeared as if he was ready to leap again.

Detective Lowrey steps into Armando’s view, who still appeared as if he was looking right through his biological father, right at Rafe.

“Mando, talk to us.”

He says nothing, making Mike rub his jaw in frustration at the common wall his son liked to put up. “My guess is: Rafe got what was comin’ to him.”

Kelly snorts while Dorn nods his head, quickly looking away once Rafe throws his hands up is confusion on why Dorn didn’t have his back. Rita sends Mike a warning look but he just shrugs as he turns to stand side ways, so that he can get a good look at everyone again.

“Regardless of what happened before we arrived—which I will find out—Do I need to remind you all that this is a place of business, where professionalism and team work is supposed to be the number one priority?”

Rafe huffs, “try telling that to the cartel Tasmanian devil over there. I know what oath I took to be here…some people were just handed shit.”

All eyes snapped to Rafe at that.

He just didn’t know when to quit.

Armando snickered as he scratches at the side of his nose by his beauty mark. Although his heart was drumming in his chest over the truth, he kept his cool—now.

“…That’s fine, next time I’ll just put the gun in your mouth instead.”

“WHOA! WHOA! ALRIGHT!” Mike scolded, although he didn’t blame Armando, he didn’t need him locked up again.

While Rita interjected, “that’s enough you two!”

“I think that’s my cue to go home for the day.” Armando stated, not looking for permission from either of the higher ranks, as he turns to start grabbing a few of his items: phone, keys, and his backpack.

“Tell y/n I said wassup.” Rafe raises his chin while Armando sends him one last look with a mocking laugh, motioning a gun at him on his way out.

Mike runs his hands over his goatee as Rita sends him a glance, making him quickly dip his head to follow his son out of the trailer part of the building.

“Mando, hey!” Mike calls out to the shorter man who’s making his way over to his car.

Armando keeps moving, unlocking the door to the car, throwing his things into the passenger side. When Mike slams his hands down on the hood of the car, Armando turns from the ajar door to meet Mike’s eyes.

“Don’t do nothing stupid. Not when you’ve come this far.” Mike tells Armando, whose eyes are as dark as black coffee.

Armando blinks, “Sure, I’m a murderer turned agent but I’m not down for being disrespected.”

“Okay,” Mike nods, “I feel that. And I’m proud that you lasted this long not popping that asswipe in the mouth.”

Armando snorts, already being aware that Rafe had his share of words with Mike as well.

“Tell me now, are you plotting something against y/n too?”

“No.” Armando shrugged his shoulders, “I been knew—

“But you loved her so that doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt, right? You can be real with me.” Mike suggests.

Armando deeply inhales, “…I don’t think I know much about love after all, Mike.”

And with that, he climbs into the car, starting the engine, leaving the man on the outside to step out of the way and watch Armando go.

The stories you tried to spin when you got Armando to finally talk to you, made him blow up on you. It’s not the first fight you’ve ever had, the relationships always been toxic. Your mothers were in jail together, you and Armando were practically raised in that facility together in Mexico City until a certain age and then you were both uprooted away from your moms and away from each other.

Somehow you found your way back together, whereas Armando went into training underneath Benito Aretas, you didn’t exactly grow up in a loving home either. Finding yourselves into crooked crime and wealth, you both did well for yourselves and it was written in stone that you two would be in an arranged marriage. Your mother ended up dying in prison but that was her dying wish, believing that Isabel would do right by you.

Depends on how you define that.

You became Mrs. Aretas at twenty-one but once you came to the states and got a taste of a different life, you changed. Armando was always on a mission and ultimately you were on a different one.

You two were no longer a team so it seemed, carrying on tasks on your own where at times your home in Florida started to feel colder at times.

“I’m out here forced to pay off my debts with people I don’t even care for like that, knowing that my wife is doing me dirty. How do you expect me to continue living your famous lie of: everything’s fine when it’s far from it?” Armando asks after you slapped the laptop that he was working on, right off the dining table.

You’re folding your arms, “nothing about our relationship has been a lie, i love you and wouldn’t have married you if I didn’t regardless of what our mother’s wanted. I just—

“ Last I heard you don’t cheat on people you claim to love—guess that’s something you have in common with my mother.” Armando leans back in the chair, fingers folded together.

Raising your brows you deeply exhale, “Look…I know you’re pissed off with me and you have every right to be but i dont appreciate you comparing me to Isabel. I’m not anything like her.”

Armando shrugs his shoulders, “manipulative, selfish, calculated, narcissistic—

“Wow! Say it with your whole chest then.”

“You fucked up, so I’m done.”

“W-what?”

“All those years gone just like that.” Armando feels his jaw about to shake, “and with Rafe of all people? He’s somebody’s whole father and you know he treat’s Kennicott like shit so what was it? The crimson chin?”

You clench your eyes shut, “this is no excuse but the first time we were all drunk and at the club, Mike was there—

“Don’t bring him into this,” Armando snaps, knowing where you were going, “we been had that conversation months ago. You know what? I don’t even need the whole rundown because I’ve already got the gist. I just want to know when I should expect you out by.”

He’s back on his phone, app open to make a schedule and reminders already.

“I’m not going anywhere.” You argue.

Armando keeps a straight face although his brow wants to raise in annoyance, “cool then I’ll leave and have some people stop by to get my things within a week.”

“Armando.” You start, waterworks rising as you begin to follow him, “we can work this out.”

Armando stops in his tracks, almost making you bump into the back of him. He says over his shoulder, “there’s nothing else to work out, this hasn’t been working and I’ve constantly been turning the other cheek since we got here together. Since I got locked up but I guess you forgot about what a commitment entails. Maybe we’re better off without each other for good this time.”

Angrily wiping your tears you grit at his retreating form down the hallway that led to one of the five bedrooms, laundry room, and the side door that led to the car port outside, “don’t tell me you’re just gonna go off and fuck off with Kennicott and her kid? how cliche!”

He puts his shades on in the driver’s side as you rest your hands on the rolled down window, “take care of yourself the best way you know how, y/n and good luck with Rafe. Who knows how much longer he’s got left?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You know exactly, what that means.” Armando’s stare is heated even behind his expensive shades, “please, watch your feet. I’m outta here.”

You’re left a gapping fish, jumping back as Armando reversed out of the car port and out of your life for good, if he can help it.

“Hi sweetie,” you smile down at the five year old by the swings as you briefly peek back at Kennicott standing in front of Armando who’s sitting on the bench, shielding the sun from his eyes but his faint dimples are showing as he peers up at her like she created the damn sun.

You start to wonder when’s the last time he’s looked at you like that.

It’s been some time since he emptied his things out the shared home you had together. You still tried to keep up conversations and hookups with Rafe, mostly to keep tabs on Armando but Rafe caught on quick to your game. That’s when the ghosting started and you running up on every other girl Rafe tried to bring back to his place.

Deeming you as crazy but it wouldn’t be the first time.

This wasn’t healthy, you knew this but you couldn’t help yourself. Why did Rafe think he could just get rid of you? And why did Armando think he can just move on and do exactly what you knew he would do.

That’s where you got it wrong.

He wasn’t dating Kennicott but she did manage to get some smiles out of him. Of course he already knew her since she came around to headquarters doing sweet things for Rafe and the team that he never appreciated. It was like Kennicott was a bother to Rafe yet she was also the mother of his child? She deserved better much like Armando did and if you wanted to look at it in a petty way…it was nice to get underneath Rafe’s skin in the process by being her friend.

You still didn’t sign the divorce papers but when you received them, you thought about doing a drive by to be honest. That was more Armando’s style but it wouldn’t be so different than what you normally got into. Before getting to that you started off small, by keeping tabs on those Armando affiliated with and placing a tracker on Kennicott’s emerald green 4Runner. Which led to the park Kennicott always brought her daughter to on Saturdays.

Wednesdays were swimming lessons, Thursdays were Kennicott’s late nights at the office so baby girl was usually with Rafe’s mom. You had their schedule down pat and it was the perfect time to execute.

“Y/n?!” Armando screamed your name as you handed the five year old off to your accomplice in the backseat.

It was like slow motion as you spotted a worried Kennicott gripping Armando’s forearm, once your eyes switched from their comfortability and back up to their faces, you sent a wicked smile before tossing the door back and hoping into the tinted car.

Armando knows he could have taken the shot but you were still his wife, there were plenty of witnesses and children, and he always had the risk of being thrown back in jail hanging over his head. He knew your game, actually fell in love with it, so all he could do for right now was embrace a distraught Kennicott underneath his arm and call it in.

If that’s how you wanted to play, he was guaranteed to win.

⊹ ࣪ ﹏𓊝﹏𓂁﹏⊹ ࣪ ˖ ⊹ ࣪ ﹏𓊝﹏𓂁﹏⊹ ࣪ ˖ ⊹ ࣪ ﹏𓊝﹏𓂁