#rake lives

“Yeah?”

“Is it okay to come down there?”

“Why wouldn’t it be?”

“Just wanted to make sure.”

He watches as she descends the remaining stairs and approaches, her bare feet padding softly against the wooden floors. Her hair is loose and dishevelled from sleep; thick, dark tresses framing her face, tumbling over her shoulders, and spilling down her back.  Her tiny frame drowns in a man’s button-down shirt;  crisp and cool cotton in charcoal grey,  the sleeves rolled up to her elbows.  One of many offerings that Gaspar had left behind in a plastic bag on the kitchen table;  faded and tattered t-shirts and old jeans with holes in the knees and pockets and loose threads dangling from the cuffs.  With nothing appropriate for a woman -especially one of Esme’s petite stature- available, she’d been relegated to washing her original clothes by hand; tattered and stained by blood and now drying over a chair on the small back porch.

Despite the dim lighting, he can see how heavily body and spirit bear the toll of the day;  a slump to normally confident shoulders, a limp that replaces the normal bounce to her step. The sparkle of those dark eyes diminished;  now dull and lifeless from a potent mixture of exhaustion,  discomfort,  grief, and concern.   And when she stands in front of him, he can see the damage done to her pale, smooth skin;  a bruised and slightly swollen left cheek, a red and angry abrasion that mars her forehead and disappears into her hair,  and a small split to her bottom lip that appears sore and tender.

Yet, she’s still the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. 

His hands find her hips as she steps between his splayed thighs. “You should be asleep.”

“I was going to say the same thing to you.”

“I’ve been resting my eyes. Here and there.”

“I damn near had a panic attack. I woke up and didn’t even remember coming here.  I didn’t recognize anything,  you were gone.  That’s what totally freaked me out.  I didn’t know where you went, and I thought maybe something bad happened and you had to leave us here or…”

“I’d never do that.   No one is getting left behind. Especially not you.”

“It just scared me.  Not knowing where I was.  Being disoriented and alone and…”

“I only left because I didn’t want to wake you up.  I couldn’t shut my brain off.  And if I’d stayed up there and just kept tossing and turning…”

She reaches out;  gentle fingertips exploring the bruises and wounds that litter his face.  “Are you feeling any better?”  

“A little.  The meds kicked in about ten minutes ago.”

She gently explores the cut above his right eyebrow and the abrasions on his cheek. “Did you take a lot?”

“I only took a couple.  Just to take the edge off.  Nowhere near enough to knock me on my ass.”

“I mean, I know it’s not any of my business; how many pills you take or how much booze you drink.  But…”

“We talked about this. A couple of days ago. About how it’s becoming your business.”   

 When their plans to travel together after the job in Dhaka had been made official,  they’d been accompanied by a conscious decision to turn his life around. Or at least attempt to.   There’s an optimism he clings to;  the belief that their immense attraction to one another will follow them into the ‘regular world’.   That it isn’t solely rooted in similar experiences and shared circumstances; their equally traumatic childhoods,  their time in the military and their failed marriages, the stress and the unpredictability of the ‘job’.    

 It’s the first time in years that he’s felt any sense of positivity regarding the direction of his life; finding himself no longer obsessed with wanting to catch a bullet or interested in drinking himself to death.  It would be the biggest mistake he’s ever made; turning his back on the second chance that lay before him.  And he’s determined to put the work in; wanting to clean himself up and give her the kind of man she wants, needs, and deserves .

“I worry about you.”  Pushing her hands into his hair, she allows the longer strands to slip through her fingers.  “I know you’re not to use that; someone giving a shit.”

He can’t remember the last time someone expressed any kind of concern in regards to his well-being.  While boldly -yet erroneously- calling herself a friend, Nik views him as both a nuisance and a commodity.  While none of the other mercenaries on her payroll come close to possessing the same level of skill and knowledge, his issues with drugs and alcohol often get in the way of her securing a client -and a mission- only he can conquer. Her friendship comes with a price;  relying heavily on his ability to keep himself alive and the cash rolling into her bank account.  And Mia had never been an affectionate or nurturing person;  lacking those traits long before their marriage had started to sour.  A byproduct of her career and upbringing, she’d always been rather cold and distant; expecting the man to be continuously ‘rock steady’ and admittedly ‘turned off’ by any show of softness or vulnerability.

His mother.   She’d been the only one who’d ever shown him that kind of care and concern.  Loving him unconditionally; with every breath she took and every punch and kick his father had rained down upon.  Continuously -and selflessly- putting herself…mind, body, and soul…in the direct path of his ire to keep her only child safe. Attempting to give him some semblance of a normal childhood despite all the bloody noses,  broken ribs,  split lips and trips to the emergency room.    It was the last time he’d ever felt loved;  the only person who allowed her to show and express emotion and experience moments of fear and weakness. 

Nearly three decades.  Since anyone has given a shit.  And it seems so foreign now; finding himself at the receiving end of even the smallest forms of affection.  

“It’s been a long time,” he admits.

“That’s not right,” she laments.  “That’s not right at all .”

Her hands continue to move through his hair; gently and repeatedly combing the dirty blond tresses.  He finds himself unable to take his eyes off her; transfixed by the tenderness that both touch and gaze possess.  The couch side lamp bathes her skin in a soft, almost ethereal glow;  highlighting the juxtaposition between the bruises and cuts that mar her flesh and the gentle smile that curves moist lips.  

 It takes his breath away;  her emotions -a mix of concern,  adoration, and lust-  written so plainly upon her face. He doesn’t deserve it; someone regarding him in such a manner, wanting and needing him to the depths and lengths she’s already shown.  And while part of him whispers to push her away and spare her the hurt that he’ll eventually cause,  an even louder and more persistent one screams at him to never let her go. 

A shiver travels through him as her nails lightly scrape along his scalp and down onto the nape of his neck; those small, delicate fingers dancing over his skin before deftly and easily manipulating the sore, tense muscles below them.  His eyes close; a sigh of both weariness and contentment escaping his lips as his head falls forehead and his brows rest against her.   It’s intimacy in its purest;  her touch soothing as he completely lowers his guard and allows himself a rare moment of vulnerability.   She won’t judge him for it;   won’t scoff, scold or mock upon discovery of a chink in his armour.    Not the type to view him as less of a man because of a show of weakness;  instead preferring to nurture the rarer, softer fragments that linger under his tattered edges and worn and weathered exterior.

When she gently tugs on his hair, he tips his head back and gazes up at her;  eyes riveted on hers as she affectionately strokes his ears and slowly traces the outer edges with the tips of her index fingers. It isn’t until she releases a sigh of her own and scraps her top teeth over her bottom lip that he physically reacts; his hands smoothing over the curve of her hips and down the sides of her thighs before slipping under the bottom of her shirt. He hears her sharp intake of breath when rough, calloused palms glide across soft, supple flesh. Sees the way her eyes darken when he traces a slow, methodical circle around her navel and gently tugs on the hoop that passes through it.  Feels both the shiver that passes through her and the goosebumps that invade her skin as his fingertips skim along the waistband of her simple cotton panties.

“This is wrong.”  Her voice trembles as she speaks. Barely above a whisper. “This is so, so, so wrong.”

“You could be saying  that about the last five days.” 

“I don’t mean that.  Us.  If there even is an us.”

His palms follow the curves and slopes of her ass and hips.  Finding himself amused by her disappointed pout when his hands slip out from under her shirt.   “I thought that was pretty obvious.” 

“I meant this. Here. Your friend’s place.” 

“If it makes you feel any better…”. His fingers tend to the buttons on the simple cotton garment. “…he doesn’t actually live here.  It’s a safe house.  He has no real ties to this place.”

“Always so rational.” 

Allowing the shirt to fall open, his hands once more find her hips;  fingers pressing into the supple flesh as he aggressively pulls her closer.  She heaves a shaky sigh and violently shudders when his lips press against her stomach;  her fingers burrowing in his hair as the tip of his tongue draws a lazy circle around her belly button and his teeth pull at the stainless steel hoop.   Her nails digging into his scalp when he presses a series of kisses along her abdomen;  slowly travelling from hip to the other, then stopping at the strip of lace that covers her pussy.  And nuzzling his nose against her, he can smell and feel the moisture that dampens the thin fabric. 

Her hands tighten their grip on his hair as he presses a line of warm, moist kisses across her waist; his mouth travelling slowly from hip to hip as his calloused fingertips drift over her ribcage.   It’s a power juxtaposition;  the softness of his lips paired with the roughness of his beard.   She’s overwhelmed by the things he manages to stir inside of her; a level and ferocity of want and need that no one else has brought to the plate.   On the good days, sex with Mark had been a chore; she merely tolerated it and certainly never initiated nor truly enjoyed it.  On the bad days, it was expected of her;  threatened and forced and punished -severely- if she had the nerve to say ‘no’ or push him away.   After the marriage fell apart, she’d sworn off all forms of sexual activity that involved a partner;  convinced she could happily live the rest of her life tending to things on her own. 

And then she wandered into the debilitated shack in the middle of the Australian outback.

A violent shiver travels the length of her body as his hands and mouth travel upwards.  Suckling and nipping at her collarbone while his palms cup her breasts;  a whimper escaping her lips when his thumbs brush against her nipples.  He reaches for her hair, his grip tight and unrelenting as he pulls her down into a kiss; his strength and power cause her to lose her balance and tumble into his lap. His hands aggressive and needy as they easily manipulate her much smaller and lighter frame;  settling her on his lap,  her knees on either side of him.

Both kisses and touch are rough and unapologetic. Bruising lips and duelling tongues as his hands dispose of remaining clothes and hers yank at shirt buttons and belt buckle and hurriedly open the clasp and zipper on his pants.  There’s no romance;  no extended foreplay, no whispers of adoration or praise, no tenderness or adoration.  And she audibly gasps when he pushes into her with one strong, fluid thrust;  her head falling backwards and her nails digging painfully into the bruises and cuts that mar the back of his neck and shoulders.  

He remains undeterred;  the pain is no match for the depth and the power of the want and need that take over every fibre of his being.  His mouth finds the hollow of her throat;  licking, sucking, and biting at the skin as his palms find the smooth curves of her ass.  Fingertips biting into the soft, supple flesh as he controls every movement.

****

They sit in silence; basking in the afterglow with her sideways on his lap and her legs hanging over the arm of the chair, both his arms wrapped around her. Her head on his shoulder; one hand resting on his side,  the fingers of the other repeatedly brushing the hair at the back of his head and the nape of his neck.  Clothes discarded earlier in haste gathered up and put back on; avoiding the awkwardness if Ovi awakens and wanders downstairs or Gaspar shows up unexpectedly.   His palm rests on the side of her left thigh;  fingertips repeatedly moving over the skin in slow, smooth circles.

“Tyler?”

He turns his face into hers, lips meeting her brow.  “Mmm?”

“Where should we head first? Where do you want to go the most?”

“What?”

“When we travel.  Once all this is over.  What should we put first on the list?”

“I don’t know.  I haven’t really thought about it.  Wherever you want to go, I guess.”

“Oh, that’s it. Leave the hard work to me.   I’m terrible at making decisions. I’ll pick something now and by this time next week, I’ll have changed my mind a dozen times.”

“Why don’t we get the hard stuff out of the way? I know you’ve been freaking out about the idea of going back to Colorado and having me meet your folks.   If we do that first, you’ll be able to relax; have a good time when we go other places.”

“You know…” Esme presses a kiss to the corner of his mouth. “...sometimes you are wise.  So wise.”

“Are you saying I’m a dumb ass all the other times?”

She nuzzles the sensitive spot under his left ear with the tip of her nose. “Never.”

He’s getting used to it; her almost overwhelming need to give and receive affection.  She’s the first partner he’s had that’s been so needy in that respect, and decades of being touched starved has caused him to be standoffish at times;  unsure of how to react to her not being afraid to seek out physical contact.  But she’s patient and understanding and never takes initial resistance or hesitation as a personal slight.  After only five days, he’s both accepting and responding with much more comfort and ease; not realizing just how much he’s missed tenderness and affection.   And amidst all the chaos, unpredictability,  and fear of what’s to come,  her mere presence gives him a welcome escape.  The touch of her hands, the feel of her lips, and the smell of her hair somehow easing the weariness and the tension. Even if only temporarily.

“You don’t really want to go there, do you?”

“I want to see the mountains.  Go snowboarding.”

“You do realize we can  do those things without going near my family, right?”

“It was your idea.  To take me to meet them.”

“And now I realize what a shitty idea it is.  And no…”  Laying a hand on his cheek, she turns his face towards her. “...you are not the reason I don’t want to see them.  I mean, you are .  But not in the way you’re thinking.”

“I wasn’t thinking anything.”

“I’m not ashamed. Or embarrassed.  When it comes to how we met and how quickly things happened between us.   And it has nothing to do with who you are and what you do or…”

“Esme,  none of that shit crossed my mind.”

“It has nothing to do with you and everything to do with them.  I know what they’re like; I’ve put up with their bullshit all my life.  They thrive on bullshit and drama. Especially my mother.  Why would I want to subject you to that ? You haven’t done anything to deserve that kind of punishment.”

“Haven’t you been waiting your entire life for someone to come along and put your mother in her place?  Well, the time’s come. Now’s your chance.”

“You have no idea what she can get like.  Just how awful she is.  She’s a miserable, evil bitch.  And I can only imagine what kind of shit is going to come out of her mouth. About you, about me…”

“I’m not your ex-husband.  I’m not the type that’s just going sit there and let it happen.  She steps out of line, I put her back in it.”

Smiling, she reaches up to brush the longer strands of hair off his forehead. “You’d do that for me?”

“Of course, I would.  Someone’s got your back now.  And she should know it.”

“My hero,” she playfully croons, and presses a kiss to the underside of his chin.

“You don’t have to worry about her anymore.   I’ll let her know.  And I won’t be nice about it.”

“You really are a knight in shining armour.”

He frowns. “I wouldn’t go that far.”

“Knight in slightly tarnished armour?”

“I’ll let you have it.”

They lapse into a comfortable, companionable silence;  her head against his shoulder, the nails of one hand lightly and repeatedly brushing against his beard. His chin rests on the top of her head as calloused fingertips continue tracing random patterns on the side of her thigh and back of her knee.  And he’s once more on the edge of sleep when he feels her move against him; eyes flickering open, finding her staring up at him.  Those enormous dark eyes once more filled with concern, her brow furrowed.

“What?”

“What’s going to happen to him?”

“Who?”

“Ovi.”

“We’re going to get him out of here.  Get him back where he belongs.”

“I mean after .  When this is over.  What happens when you do get him home?  His father’s in jail. There’s no one there to protect him.”

“ I haven’t stopped to think about that.  Yet.”

“Asif will never let him live. Think of the disgrace.  He isn’t going to give up, Tyler. He’ll go after him again.  And this time, things will end up so much worse.  It won’t be about money, or power, or influence.  Or disrespecting or embarrassing Mahajan.  It will be about revenge.  And you know what people like Asif are capable of.   They’re violent and depraved and the things he’ll do to Ovi…”

“This is why you couldn’t sleep, huh?”

“He’s just a kid.  He doesn’t deserve this.   And if there’s no one around to keep an eye on him…”

“What do you think we should do?  How would you handle it?”

“I don’t know.  But there has to be something, right? That we can do? That you can do?”

“Short of sticking around in Mumbai and keeping an eye on him until shit dies down…”

“Would that be something you’d be willing to do?”

“Would you? Be willing to do it?”

“I’m not sure,” Esme admits.  “It wouldn’t be the safest place, you know? We’d all have targets on our backs.  Hanging around,  just waiting for trouble to show up? Not my idea of a good time.”

“What else is there? What other options do we  have?”  

“We could bring him with us.  We could put off travelling. Spend some time hiding out somewhere. We could take him to your place;  lie low in the outback for a bit. Or we could go to Prague. Stay at my place; just until we know the coast is clear and that  Ovi will be safe back in Mumbai. It makes sense, right? For you to be the one to do it.  I know there wouldn’t  be any pay at the end of things, but…”

“It’s not about money. It stopped being about that hours ago.”

“I just think it makes sense; that we take him with us.  You can keep him safe.  He trusts you.  And I think that…”

“You know what I think?  I think it’s been a long day.  And I think you’re tired and overwhelmed and you need to try and turn your brain off.  Or at least quiet it down a bit. I know you’re neurotic as fuck sometimes, but…”

She grins.  “You already figured that out, huh?”

“Less than a day into knowing you.”

Scowling, she tugs playfully at the hair covering his chin. 

“Why don’t we just let it go for now; cross that bridge when we get to it.  Because it’s been a hell of a fucking twenty-four hours and my brain needs some peace and quiet.  And I know yours does too.”

“I just…”

“Not right now, okay? Let's try and get some sleep.  We need it.”

Nodding in agreement, she nestles her cheek against his shoulder. Several minutes passing before she gives a loud yawn and once more sits up/

“Esme…”  Tyler doesn’t open his eyes. “ I swear to God…”

“I have a lot on my mind, okay? It’s really noisy up in there. And I won’t be able to sleep until it quiets down a bit. Humour me? Please?” 

Sighing,  he opens his eyes and slides a palm to the back of her head; fingers pushing through her hair to gently massage her scalp. “What’s going on?”

“I need to ask you something.  And it might cross a line or two or trample on a couple of boundaries.   I know we haven’t known each other long and it’s kind of personal and you might want to tell me to mind my own fucking business, but  I’m just asking because I’ve been getting some really bad vibes and I’m nervous and worried and…”

He chuckles; her tendency to ramble when excited or nervous never crossing the line between amusing and insufferable. “Just take a breath, yeah?  It can’t be that bad.”

“It depends on what you consider bad. Or intrusive.”

“I think we’ve reached a point where nothing could be considered intrusive. Considering what’s been going on the last five days and just happened twenty minutes ago…”

“I’m only asking because I’m worried.  And a bit scared.  I…”

He squeezes the nape of her neck.  “Just ask.”

“How well do you know him?”

“I take it we’re not talking about Ovi this time.”

“Gaspar.  How close are you guys exactly?”

“We’re mates, I guess.  If we’re in the city, we’ll go out and grab something to eat, have a beer or two.”

“Would you say you’re solely ‘work buddies? That the only time you see him is if there’s a job involved?”

“Yeah, I’d say.  It’s not like we see each other regularly or we hang out when it’s our downtime.  I don’t exactly call or text him or shit like that, if that’s what you’re asking. Why…?”

“So you’re not friends friends. You don’t visit one another, you don’t know much about each other’s personal lives, you’re not on one another’s Christmas card list or…”

“I barely see the guy.   We’re work friends. Colleagues. Nothing more, nothing less.  We won’t be visiting each other any time soon.”

“I just don’t want you to think that I’m being a huge bitch and personally attacking your friend or assuming bad things about him or…”

“Are you going to get to your original question sometime today or…?”

Taking a deep breath, she releases it slowly, then chews pensively on her bottom lip.   “Do you trust him?”

“He owes me his life.”

“That isn’t what I asked.  Do you trust him?”

“Honestly?  I’m not sure.”

She sighs.

“I know that’s not what you wanted to hear.”

“I can’t shake this awful feeling that he’s up to no good.  Something just isn’t sitting right; the way Nik was so resistant when you told her to call him,  the way he looks at me like he wants to throw me to the wolves, the things he says…”

Tyler frowns.  “He talked to you? When? What did he say?”

“He didn’t confront me or anything like that.” The lie rolls easily off her tongue. “ And it’s not so much what he says, but how he says it.  He won’t even call me by name; when he’s talking to you he calls me ‘the girl’ or ‘that girl’.   That’s not a huge red flag to you?”

“Don’t take it personally. He’s always been a bit of an asshole.” 

“Something’s not right, Tyler.  And I know you’re feeling it, too.  Nik never would have put up such a fight about calling him if she wasn’t worried about something. ”

“I think everyone’s on edge.  We’re sore, we’re tired, we’re…”

“You just said you’re not sure if you trust him. So you’ve got the vibes, too. I know you do.”

“Whether I trust him or not,  this is our only option.   I have more control over things here than if we’re on the street, constantly looking for a place to hide out.  Do you trust me ?”

“With my life. You know I do.  But that doesn’t mean I can just ignore this.   The way I’m feeling.  Something is… off .  I can’t put my finger on what , but it is.  And the sooner things die down and we can get the hell out of here, the better.”

“If I start feeling worse about things…about him …I’ll get you and Ovi out of there.  I’ll figure something out;  find a place to lay low until Nik can get us out of here.  I won’t let anything happen to you.  And I will get you out of Dhaka.”

“Gotta get yourself out of here, too.  Remember our deal? Both of us or neither of us.”

“I never agreed to that.”

“You said you’d think about it.”

“I have thought about it.”

“And?”

“And I can’t make any promises.  Not when it comes to that.  You know how bad things can go. And how quickly it can happen.”

She scowls.  “That’s not an acceptable answer.”

“It’s the only one I have to give you.  Right now, anyway.  Are we done?  Did you get everything out of your head you needed to? Quiet things down a bit.”

“It’s a little better.”

“You’re safe, Esme.  Nothing can touch you here.  And if anything even tried…”

“I can’t pretend I feel good about this.  About him .”

“You don’t have to.  But for now?  Try and get some sleep.  It’s been a long fucking day.  And if you don’t settle down, shut your mouth, and close your eyes soon…”

“You’re such a sweet talker,”  she chides, and nuzzles the side of his neck with the tip of her nose.  “Let’s stay here a little bit longer.  Just like this.  I need it.  I need you .”

He obliges; wrapping both arms around her and pulling her even tighter against him.  Laying a palm on the back of her head, he draws it down onto his shoulder;  fingertips gently stroking her hair until her body relaxes against his. Her breathing softening and slowing as  she finally drifts off to sleep.

****

Despite succumbing to exhaustion, Tyler’s senses remain hypervigilant. Aware of the slightest change in temperature,  the softest of noises out on the street, every sigh and mutter Esme makes as she sleeps on the couch across the room, and each creak of a spring whenever she rolls over or adjusts her position.  His hearing is keen. Picking up on the rumble of an engine and the opening and shutting of a car door; a dog in the near distance barking at the intrusion.  

He senses the other man’s presence the moment he steps into the room; clocking the the shifting of floorboards beneath feet,  the rustling of a brown paper bag,  heavy, deep breathing, and a combined smell of cologne and perspiration.   He remains silent and motionless; not wanting Gaspar to be aware of his wakefulness.   The soft glow of the couch side lamp allows him to watch every move the taller, heavier man makes; his breath catching and his jaw clenching as Gaspar approaches the sofa.  

His hands curl into tight fists as Gaspar briefly observes a sleeping Esme,  then removes the throw from the back of the sofa;  draping it over and tucking it securely around her tiny body. Feeling both nausea and fury building inside of him when his old friend touches her; smoothing her hair away from her face and running a fingertip over the bruises on her left cheek and above her eye. And he isn’t entirely sure what he feels;  disgust, worry, rage.  Possessiveness, even.

 “What the fuck are you doing?”

Gaspar gives a small start, then an awkward chuckle as he turns away from the couch.  “You scared the shit out of me.  I thought you were asleep.”

“I was.  Now answer my question. What are you doing?”

“The windows are open. It gets chilly at night. I was just making sure she was warm.” 

His body aches as he stands.  A throbbing that seems to spread outwards from his bones; travelling from the roots of his hair to the tip of his toes. Reaching for the sling he’d discarded earlier, he winces as he pulls it over his head, gritting his teeth as he settles his injured arm into place.   Approaching the couch,  he places his body between it and Gaspar as he reaches down to wake her; grazing his knuckles along her swollen and bruised cheek. 

“Hey…”  Tyler softly jostles her shoulder.   “...Esme…”

Giving a loud yawn, she stretches languorously and turns her face towards him;  pressing her brow against his forearm.

 “Tyler…” 

It claws at his throat and heart; the way his name leaves her mouth so softly and tenderly.   It’s terrifying;  what should have been a ‘no strings attached’ arrangement quickly -and effortlessly- becoming so much more.   She’s the first person to attempt to get past the walls he’d built in the wake of his son’s death; effortlessly managing to burrow beneath the layers of guilt and grief and regret.  Breathing life back into him and making him feel again.

“Esme…”  His voice is louder, pushing past the last remaining veils of sleep. “...you need to get up.”

Rolling onto her side, she peers up at him, concern immediately furrowing her brow. “What’s wrong? Is there trouble? Do we need to leave? Do we…?”

“There’s nothing wrong.  No trouble.  Why don’t you go upstairs?”  Curling his fingers around her bicep, he guides her into a sit. “You’ll be more comfortable up there.”

“Okay,” she sleepily agrees, gathering the throw around her shoulders as he helps her to her feet.

Although Tyler notices Gaspar’s disgust when she briefly rests her forehead against his chest, he doesn’t hesitate;  placing his hands upon her shoulders and gently squeezing. “Try and get some more sleep.  I’ll be up in a little bit.”

“Alright.” Yawning once more, she presses the heels of her palms into her eyes; wrapping the throw around her as she shuffles through the living room and up the stairs.  

Both men remain silent.  Until they hear the squeak of the bedroom door as it closes, followed by her soft footfalls overhead.

“Now it’s my turn,” Gaspar speaks in a harsh whisper.  Shoulders tightly drawn, eyes narrowed in a mixture of anger and disgust. “What the fuck are you doing?”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“You and that girl . And whatever the fuck is going on between you.”

“Esme.  Her name is Esme.   And whatever’s happening between us? That’s none of your business, mate.”

“You’re my friend. That makes it my business.  What is wrong with you?  This ? This latching onto someone. Practically throwing yourself at their feet.  It’s pathetic; watching you trip over yourself trying to get her to even look at you.”

“I’m getting it just fine.  Without having to do that.   And when have I ever had a job like this?  Working with someone? This isn’t normal for me.  She’s not normal.”

“It’s embarrassing; the way you are with her.  I saw it the second you walked in here; needing to be near her all the time, always finding ways to touch, batting your eyelashes at her every chance you get.  When did you get like this? When did you get so soft ?”

“Keep getting on my ass like this and you’ll find out who’s soft.”

“You need to get your head on straight.  You’re a mercenary, aren’t you Tyler? Then start acting like a mercenary.  Because this ? Her ? It’s wrong and you know it.”

“What’s going on with Esme and I has nothing to do with the job.  And nothing to do with you .  So if you don’t mind, mate, I’d appreciate it if you didn’t talk about her.  Or go near her.  Just keep your distance. Because if I see you touching her again…”

“Get your shit together!” Gaspar snarls.  “You want to get out of here alive? Stop whatever is going on with that girl…”

“It’s too late for that.  To stop it.  So just back off and…”

“Don’t you understand that I’m worried about you?  That I see what’s happening? What she’s doing to you?  Are you that fucking blind that you don’t see it?  She’s using you, Tyler.  She’s lying and she’s manipulating and…”

“She’s not. She’s not doing any of that.”

“It’s what she does for a living.  Did you forget that?  Why she’s even involved in this job in the first place?  It’s who she is.  In the same way being a mercenary is who you are. She cons people for a living. And now she’s conning you . Because you’re her only chance of getting out of here alive.”

“That’s not what she’s doing.”

“Do you think she loves you?” Gaspar gives an incredulous laugh. “Is that what you think? That she sees you as some knight in shining armour that’s come along to sweep her off her feet?”

“You need to let this go, mate.  Because there’s nothing you can say or do…”

“This is what she does, Tyler; what she gets paid for.  She wanders into people's lives and turns them upside down. She lies and she uses and she…”

“That’s not who she is away from the job.”

“It’s exactly who she is. A leopard doesn’t change its spots.”

“You don’t know her, Gaspar. You don’t…”

“And you do? It’s been what? A week? If that?  You think you know who she really is? That she isn’t using you and playing you the same way she has so many others? Why are being so fucking naive? Are you that lonely? That desperate? That you can’t see what’s going on?”

“You weren’t there.  Back in that hotel room.  You don’t know the things that happened or…”

“Oh, I know what happened.  You’re a red-blooded male, she’s an attractive woman.  It’s not hard to figure out.  And it must have been really damn good.  Bceause for you to be so naive and so fucking blind…”

“...or the things we talked about.  You need to let this go.  I don’t know what you’re trying to do or why you’re doing it…”

“She is going to ruin you, Tyler.  She is going to lie and manipulate and tell you everything you want to hear. She’s going to keep whoring herself out to you so…”

His fists clench. “I’m warning you, mate.  Don’t talk about her like that. Don’t talk about her at all .”

“Do you honestly believe someone like her would want someone like you?  That she doesn’t know what a mess you are? Look at her; she’s way out of your league and can do so much better,  Why would she want you ? All your baggage, all your bullshit. The pain meds and the booze and…”

“She knows I can change.  That I will change.”

“So that’s it? You’re just going to run off with her? When all of this is over?  You’re going to get out of Dhaka and the two of you are going to live happily ever after? That’s bullshit and you know it.  Everything that comes out of her mouth is a lie; all the sweet nothings, all the pillow talk, all the promises.  And if you yanked your head out of your ass long enough to realize it…”

“I’m only going to tell you this once more.  It’s none of your business.  Don’t talk about her again. Don’t go near her. Don’t touch her. Don’t even look at her.”

“You’re in for hell of a rude awakening the second you leave here.  When you finally realize that everything she said…everything she did…was nothing but shit.  She’s using you, Tyler. Doing whatever she has to make sure she gets out of here. And when she does, she will leave you an even bigger mess than you were before.”

Smirking, he gives his head an incredulous shake. “We’re done here.”

Gaspar snatches him by the arm, preventing him from leaving. “This is going to blow up in your face.  And she’s going to leave you an even bigger mess than you already are.”

“Mind your own business, mate. That’s the last time I’m going to warn you.”

The smile reaches his eyes, crinkling the corners. The first time she’d ever seen it, it had taken her breath away; the way the years seemed to drop away from his face and off his shoulders. Only to be replaced by a softness and a beauty not expected from a man like him. Weary and laden with unspeakable burdens; the traumas he’d endured for most of his life, the things he’d seen and done during his tours of duty with the military, the lives he’d taken during his time as a mercenary. And while others had deemed him reckless and dangerous, he’d been the only person who’d ever made her feel safe. Secure. Protected.

He briefly stands, leaning over the bed and running a hand over her hair. Hooking a finger under her chin, he gently tilts her face towards him; his lips gracing hers with the most delicate of kisses. “...sleeping beauty awakes.”

“I appreciate you trying to feed my ego, but I already know I’m a mess. And not a hot one, either.”

“You’re still here. Alive and on the mend. Can’t get much more beautiful than that.”

“Jesus, you really ARE the most biased man on the planet.”

“Biased or not, it’s true.” Pulling the chair as close as he can to the edge of the bed, he sits once more. A palm resting on the top of her head as his thumb repeatedly brushes against her brow and his free hand holds one of hers. How ya feelin’?”

“I’m not entirely sure. Better, I guess? Considering how I felt when it first happened…” She gingerly reaches across her body; careful to not upset the various tubes and wires and the IV needle that pierces the top of her hand. Allowing her fingertips to gently explore the various cuts and bruises that mar his face and neck. “Are you okay?”

“You don’t need to worry about me.”

“Excuse me? Have we met? I worry. It’s what I do. You should know that by now.”

“Of all the times you should be ignoring what I look like and what I’m doing.…”

“That’s impossible. I’ll never stop worrying about you; no matter what’s going on with me. I spent five years worrying; wondering how you were doing and if you were staying safe, and just hoping and praying you’d be alright. Every time Nik would tell me about a job you’d take…”

“You know, you could have cut out the middleman and just talked to me.”

“I wanted to, so many times. Do you know how many text messages I erased instead of sending them? How many times I’d call and get your voicemail, then just hang up without leaving anything? More than I like to admit.”

“I used to call your cell,” he sheepishly admits. “ The one you left behind. Just to listen to your outgoing message. Hear your voice.”

“Did it make you feel better?”

“Sometimes. And sometimes it made me mad as hell.”

“I’m sorry, Tyler. I am so sorry. And I know it seems like I’m constantly saying that, but…”

“Let’s not talk about it right now, okay? If there was ever a time NOT to…”

“What better time could there be? Not much else I can do.”

“It’s not important right now. We’ll get lots of time later. Believe me. When all this is over, and we’re finally home and settled, we can deal with everything else. But right now…” Cupping her cheek in his palm, the pad of his thumb tenderly glides over one of the many bruises that grace her skin. “...let’s just concentrate on you. Getting you better. And home.”

“That’s all I want. To go home. I mean, not that it actually IS my home. It’s not like I’ve ever lived there. I didn’t…”

“It is, though. Your home. OUR home. It’s the one we bought together. Made all kinds of plans for. The last five years didn’t just erase all of that.”

“But I never actually lived there. Other than when we first looked at it with the realtor, I’ve never even stepped through the front door.”

“That doesn’t matter. At least not to me. It’s always been your home, Me. It’s always been the place where you belong.”

Tears glisten in her eyes. “Why are you like this?”

“Like what?”

“Like THIS. The way you are with me. The way you’ve always been. Why do you love me like you do?”

“Do I need to have a reason?”

“After everything I’ve done, after hurting you like I did, you still love me. Way more than anyone else ever has. Or could. Why?”

“Because I do. Isn’t that enough?”

“I don’t deserve it. Not after…”

“That’s just your guilt talking.”

“I have a reason to be guilty. Everything I did to you..”

“Esme, I love you. I have ALWAYS loved you. And I always held out hope that one day you’d just walk back into my life. I only wish it had been a little sooner.”

“If I only called you sooner. Not waited so long. If I’d just…”

“But you didn’t. And you can’t change that. You can’t go back and make different choices. And you know what, that’s going to suck for a long time. Believe me, I know. There are a couple of things I wish I could go back and change. Have a re-do.”

“When it comes to us? To me?”

“The only thing I’d change is that I’d stay home that day; instead of going to Broome with Koen. And I should have. Stayed with you. You were sick, and you needed me and I..”

“I thought it was stress. Or that I’d come down with something. I wasn’t bedridden. I didn’t need you to wait on me and food and baby me. I…”

“I should have stayed. It’s the one time I didn’t listen to my gut. And look what happened.”

“You being there wouldn’t have changed things. The adjudicator still would have shown up. If anything, your being there would have made things worse. I know what you’re like, Tyler. When it comes to me. How protective you are. How you wouldn’t think twice about hurting someone…even killing them…when it comes to me. That wouldn’t have ended well. If you’d laid hands on them.”

“Maybe not. But we could have gone through it together. Found a place to hide out while Nik dealt with everything. You leaving? That wasn’t the only option.”

“I was scared. I wanted to protect you. Everything I did that day, I did for you- to keep you safe. I never did any of it to hurt you.”

“I know that. And I’m starting to accept it. You just need to give me some time, yeah? To deal with all of it? Work through it? I need that from you. Time.”

“As long as you don’t want to go through it alone. As long as it means that it’s the three of us dealing with it all together. Me, you, Millie. That’s what you want, right? The three of us sticking together?”

“I wouldn’t think of NOT doing it that way. I’m not going anywhere- not now, not ever. You need to trust me when I tell you that.”

“I do trust you. I’ve always trusted you. You’re the only person I really DO trust. To this extent, anyway.”

“Then trust me when I tell you that we don’t need to be dealing with this right now. We’re going to have lots of time to talk about things. Work through them. But right now? Right now needs to be about you. And getting you back on your feet and finally home. That’s all that matters. Can we agree? To just focus on that?”

Esme nods.

Giving her a wink, he leans in to press a kiss to her brow)

Her fingertips continue the investigation of his face and neck; tracing over healing cuts and thriving bruises. “I think you’re going to have a few new scars. To add to your collection. Nothing major, but…”

“Wouldn’t be one of my jobs if I didn’t get a little fucked up.”

“You do have a bad habit of messing yourself up, that’s for sure. Why it has to be the face, I’ll never know. Of all things? The face? Really?”

“I appreciate your concern for the rest of my body,” he teases. “And my mental health.”

“This one will always be my favourite.” She runs a fingertip over the scar that curves over the bridge of his nose. “Always.”

“How ARE you feeling? And don’t bullshit me.”

“I feel fine. Well, I don’t know if ‘fine’ is the right word, but I know I feel a lot better than I did…” She frowns, her voice trailing off.

“What? What’s wrong? What…?”

“How many days HAS it been? Since we left New York? What day is it today?”

“It’s Friday.”

“What? Friday? Are you sure?”

“I’m fully aware of what day it is.”

“But we left on Monday. How can it already be Friday? I’ve been out that long? What…?”

“You’ve been on some really strong meds. Heavy-duty stuff. You’ve been in and out. Never fully conscious, though. The doctor thought it was for the best; let your body heal without trying to fight back against the pain.”

“Did you think it was for the best?”

“I wouldn’t have told him to go ahead with it if I didn’t. I didn’t want you in constant pain. I know what it’s like; to always be in agony. I didn’t want that for you. Of all people who don’t deserve that…”

“Thank you. For taking care of me. Fighting for me.”

“It’s what we do, yeah? Take care of each other? Isn’t that what you always say?”

She nods.

“It was my turn anyway. Considering everything you had to do? After Dhaka?”

“I didn’t HAVE to do it. I wanted to do it.”

“Just like I want to take care of you. No more running. I’m not that guy anymore. I haven’t been him in a long time.”

“I’ve never known that Tyler. I’ve only ever known that one who will do anything and everything he has to protect me. THAT’S the Tyler I know. The one I fell in love with.”

He presses a kiss to her temple. “I do have a bone to pick with you, though.”

“Uh-oh.”

“You scared the fucking shit out of me. Seeing you like that. After the accident.”

“It wasn’t intentional. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“Just don’t do it again, yeah? I’m not getting any younger. My heart can only take so much.”

“Noted. I’ll be on my best behaviour from here on out. You know what the good thing is? That once this is all over and we’re finally settled, we won’t have to worry about this kind of thing anymore. Let alone go through it. It’ll all be behind us. No more stressing over whether or not the last time you walk out the front door really IS the last time.”

“I hate to break it to you, but you’re kinda walking away from danger and right into another. You do realize you’re gonna be married to a firefighter, right?”

“As scary and as dangerous as that is, I will take it over you being a mercenary any day of the week. Not to take away from your skills or your talent. Because you’re amazing at what you do. But…”

“It’s time. For something new. Something normal.”

“Whatever ‘normal’ is when it comes to us. We’ve never really been ‘normal’.”

“Our own brand of normal, I guess. We weren’t meant to be like everyone else. And who wants to be? That’s boring as hell.”

“I’m okay with whatever brand of normal we come up with.”

“Speaking of being okay, you never really answered my question. About how you’re feeling.”

“I feel kinda weird, to be honest. The last thing I really remember is being with Nik and Yaz. On our way to the airport. When you gave me that morphine. Everything after that is a complete blur. Just the mashup of moments and words and sounds. I know that doesn’t make sense.”

“I remember feeling like that. After waking up from that coma. So it makes total sense to me. Have any pain?”

“A little. Nothing serious, though.”

“They almost weaned you completely off the IV meds. They’ll want to start you on oral stuff in the morning. They don’t want you hooked up to anything once you go home. Think you can manage that? Getting rid of all those tubes and wires?”

“I can definitely manage that.”

“Do you need anything? Something to drink? Eat?”

“I AM thirsty. And I definitely could eat. Honestly, I feel like I could eat the shit out of a dead hippo, right about now.”

He chuckles. “Now I know where she got it from. Millie said the same thing the other day. When she woke up and wanted breakfast.”

“Well, there is at least a little bit of me inside of her. A few of my genes. She can’t be EXACTLY like you.”

“She’s like me in all the best ways, though.”

“She’s beautiful, like you. That’s for sure.”

“You just had to go and insult me. Call me the ‘b’ word.”

“Regardless of what you think, you can be both badass AND beautiful. You check both boxes. Among many others.”

“You are so good for my ego.” Cradling her bruised cheek in his palms, he places a long, soft kiss on her lips. “I’ll go downstairs and see what I can round up. You feel like anything in particular or…?”

“Cheese toast.”

“I can’t believe you still eat that stuff,” he chides. “Thought you would have grown out of that by now.”

“It’s my favourite comfort food. That, and your lasagna. Remember how I’d always ask you to make that? If I wasn’t feeling well or I was just having a really shitty day? And you always did it. No questions asked. No bitching or moaning about it.”

“I liked making you happy. I still do. Besides, if Esme wasn’t having a good day, no one was.”

“I always felt I’d found the proverbial needle in the haystack. A guy that can fuck well, fix his own truck, AND cook? Nothing sexier than that combo.”

“You know, when it comes to men, your standards are very low.”

“Well, I mean, there’s a lot of things that are sexy about you. I have a very extensive list.”

“Like I said, you’re really good at stroking my ego. Among other things.”

(laughs, then winces when it causes pain and discomfort in her ribs)

“You just relax, okay? I’ll go and make you something to eat. Bring you some tea. It’ll do some good to get some food into you.”

He stands and leans over the bed; index finger once more hooking under her chin and tilting her head back in order to kiss her. Skimming his knuckles over her bruised cheek, she grabs his hand when he attempts to step away from the bed; squeezing tightly as he glances down at her. Scowling at the look of fear and worry that lines her brow and creases the corners of her eyes.

“You’re coming back, right?”

“I mean unless something happens to me on the way to the kitchen or on my way back here…”

“Promise me. That you’re coming back.”

“I’m coming back.” He chooses to assure as opposed to scolding her for thinking so irrationally. “I already told you, Me. I’m not going anywhere. Ever.”

****

He returns with a tray laden with food and a small pot of tea; discovering that she’s managed to sit herself up in bed and now leans back against a selection of pillows stacked behind her. In spite of the bruises that decorate her face and various parts of her body, her colour has started to return; days spent a sickly, almost deathly gray, her skin impossibly dry. She’s starting to look like Esme again; able to smile, the sparkle back in her eyes, her sunken cheeks beginning to fill out. Clarity and understanding quickly restored; now fully conscious and aware of her surroundings. It’s a relief to see her like this; knowing the extent of her injuries and how close things had come to being so much worse. And when she beams at him as approaches the bed, it helps the last of his fears and worries subside.

“I see you made it back safe and sound. No one tried to kidnap you.”

“I was jumped in the hallway. Fought them off. Told them they may be mean and tough, but they don’t come close to you when you’re hangry.”

“I am not THAT bad.”

“I’ve lived with you. You ARE that bad.

“Got ya a little bit of everything.” Placing the tray across her lap, he takes a seat on the edge of the mattress. “Cheese toast, some apple sauce, some pasta that was left over from dinner, some tea.”

“I know I said I was hungry, and I really do appreciate you wanting to wait on me hand and foot, but…”

“You don’t have to eat it all. Just a bit of each. Do what you can.”

As she attempts to eat, he tends to the tea. Filling the waiting mug and adding a splash of milk, he keeps a quiet, watchful eye on her as she attempts to eat; her hands furiously trembling, making it impossible to even lift the food, never mind get it to her mouth. Instead of immediately jumping to her aid, he allows her to keep trying; knowing the enormity of both her stubbornness and her hatred for being too ‘dependent’ on another person. And it isn’t until she mutters profanities and begins to tear up that he finally steps in; sliding closer to her just as her lower lip and chin begin to tremble.

“Here…” Cupping a hand under her chin, uses the other to bring a slice of cheese toast to her lips. “...let’s make it easier on you.”

“You shouldn’t have to do this.”

“No one HAS to do anything. I’m doing it ‘cause I want to.”

“It’s embarrassing. I’m a grown-ass adult. I shouldn’t need someone to feed me.”

“Did you think that way when you were doing it for me? After Dhaka? That I was a grown man and should be able to do it myself?”

“You almost died. You were in a coma for seven months. You needed my help.”

“And you’ve gotten yourself fucked up pretty good, and you need my help.”

“It’s not the same thing. It’s…”

“It’s a two-way street, yeah? We already agreed on that. You take care of me, I take care of you.”

“But…”

“No ‘buts’. Just shut up and eat your cheese toast.”

He’s patient, and his voice is gentle, allowing her to take small bites and chew slowly, offering encouragement and praising her on both her efforts and success. Using soft fingertips to clear crumbs and cheese away from the corners of her mouth, then moved on to the applesauce; alternating between slipping the spoon between her lips and offering sips of tea. And he’s genuinely impressed when she makes it through more than half the pot and a couple of mouthfuls of pasta before tapping out.

Helping her get settled and comfortable against the pillows, he moves the tray to the dresser and disappears into the master bath. Returning moments later with a damp cloth and a hand towel in order to clean and dry her face. Afterwards, he climbs into the bed alongside her; mindful of the various tubes and wires as he settles next to her. Leaning back against the headboard and stretching his legs out in front of him; her body fitting tightly -and comfortably- against his when he wraps an arm around her shoulders.

Dropping a kiss on her hair, he places his chin on the top of her head. “You good? Feeling alright?”

“I’m good. Full. I think I ate too much. Probably shouldn’t have had THAT much.”

“That was nothing. I’ve seen you put away enough to feed four grown men.”

Laughing, she digs her elbow into his ribs. “Fuck off, Tyler.”

“It’s kinda sexy; a little thing like you being able to pack it away like that.”

“I’m starting to regret that I even woke up. You picking on me like this.”

“Everything I say, I say with love. Just like when you make fun of my huge feet and big ass forehead.”

“I don’t say those things with love. I say them with one hundred percent truth.”

“Now who’s starting to regret that you woke up?”

“For the record, EVERYTHING I say is out of love. Well, except for maybe when I used to bitch at you for leaving your dirty underwear in front of the hamper, instead of in it.”

“You sure it was mine? ‘Cause I don’t wear underwear ninety-eight percent of the time.”

“Well…” She settles her head on his chest and places her hand on his stomach; fingertips drawing slow, smooth circles on the fabric of his t-shirt. “... unless there was another guy living there that I didn’t know about…”

“It was my twin. My EVIL twin.”

“And what did you do with him? Your evil twin.”

“Who says you’re not talking to the evil one?”

“The evil twin would NOT have spoonfed me apple sauce.”

“That’s a very good point.”

“Besides, there’s nothing evil about you- not in the slightest. Trust me, I wouldn’t have fallen in love with you if there had been. And I definitely wouldn’t have STAYED in love with you. The last five years haven’t exactly been pleasant for me, either.”

“I know. It’s not like you wanted to leave. Or stay away.”

“But, I promised we wouldn’t talk about this. Not right now, anyway. And I don’t want to fight. I know how things get when we talk about intense stuff; we both get worked up, and our tempers take over and mean things get said. And then the next thing you know, all kinds of feelings are hurt, and we hate each other.”

“I’ve never hated you. I never could.”

“Okay, maybe hate is a strong word. But feelings do get hurt, and then we hold grudges against each other, and things are awkward for a while. And I don’t want things to be awkward. I want to be better than that; like we were five years ago. Not that we were horrible together, or anything. Because we weren’t. We just…”

“We both had a shit we were carrying around. It was bound to fuck things up every now and then.”

“Everything happened so fast. Between us. We never really got a chance to catch our breath, did we.”

“Not really, no.”

“We went from those five days in Dhaka to living together and planning a future. It’s not like we dated; or got to know each other like normal people.”

“I think we long ago established that we are both far from normal. Do you regret it? The way we handled things? The way they happened?”

“No. Not in the slightest. I just think it’s just a reasonable explanation; for why things got a little tense and out of hand at times. But you? US? I’ve never…for not even one second…had any regrets. I mean, other than the obvious. My fuck up five years ago. I think that goes without saying. Do you? Have regrets?”

“No. It all happened for a reason: you showing up on my doorstep that day, everything that went down in Dhaka. And I hope one day I can say the same thing about you taking off, keeping Millie a secret. That there was a reason for it to happen that way.”

“There was. I wanted to keep you safe. That’s the only reason. And as far as not telling you about Millie…”

“I know you were scared. That I’d turn you away. That I wouldn’t want anything to do with her. And there are moments where I totally accept that. But other times…”

“Hurts like hell.”

He nods.

“I AM sorry, Tyler. And if there was a way of taking it all back…”

“Well, there isn’t.” Immediately aware of the harshness of his voice, he gives her shoulder a squeeze and smiles down at her. “I love you. I always have. And isn’t that what really matters? When it all comes down to it? That I love you?”

“That’s all that’s ever mattered. It was the only thing I ever had that was real. How you felt about me. It was the only thing that was ever important. And then Millie came along. She’s all I had of you. My only connection. I didn’t even have a picture of you. I just had her.”

“You’ve done a good job, Me. A damn good job. She’s beautiful. And so fucking smart. Way smarter than I was at that age, that’s for sure. Probably smarter than I was at TWICE that age. Maybe even smarter than I am now.”

“Don’t sell yourself short. You’ve got a bigger brain pan than you realize or let on. And that’s part of what makes you so good at what you do. You’ve got the size, strength, and skills; those things are easy for people to see. They don’t expect you to be smart, too. They underestimate you. And that’s what makes you so dangerous.”

“I don’t know, Me. I think you have me beat in that department. If anyone is underestimated…”

“Well, you know what they say, about good things coming in small packages.”

“Pocket-sized packages, in your case.”

“Oh God, not THAT again.”

“I’m just saying. You’re tough for a little thing. I can see why you were so good at the job. No one would ever expect someone like you to be able to pull those kinds of things off.”

“It was survival of the fittest. And the smartest. I learned early on that if I was going to make it out alive, I had to be really good at what I did. It was exhausting, though: pretending to be a completely different person all the time. I’m glad it’s done; that I can just walk away and never think of this life again.”

“Soon. Once we’re out of here and get settled in Broome and Nik takes care of things back in New York City…”

“It’s going to be weird. Living a whole different life. Seeing you doing a different job. I have to say, you picked a pretty sexy career. A girl loves a man in uniform.”

“I don’t wear a uniform.”

“That’s it; go and ruin my fantasy.”

“And there’s nothing sexy about those coats and those boots, I’ll tell you that much.”

“You’re just a real party pooper, you know that?” Nuzzling her cheek against his chest, she closes her eyes. Relaxing in the warmth that radiates from his body, the hard muscle against her, his familiar scent, and the way his calloused fingertips repeatedly graze up and down her arm. She desperately needs and craves the close contact; the feel of him a vivid reminder that she’d walked through hell and come out the other side.

*****

Several minutes pass before she speaks again. “Has Millie been okay?”

“She’s been worried about her mum. Constantly asking the doctor and the nurse about how you’re doing and if you’re getting better. And giving all kinds of advice on how to take care of you. She’s pretty adamant that mint chocolate chip ice cream is the cure to everything.”

“Was she ever in here? Because I don’t know if I was dreaming, but I have this very vivid, distinct memory of her sitting on the bed and brushing my hair.”

“Every night before bed, she comes in and sits with you. She always brushes your hair. And reads you a story.”

“That’s why I can’t get ‘Goodnight Moon’ out of my head. We really need to toss that book. Get her interested in something else. Because if I hear that damn story one more time…”

“Consider it done. As soon as we get home, it’ll mysteriously disappear. Along with your ten pairs of Crocs.”

“Hey! Leave my Crocs out of this. They didn’t do anything to you.”

“They’re an abomination.”

“They’re comfortable!”

“They’re ugly, is what they are.”

“If you know what’s good for you, you won’t touch my Crocs. I can hurt you, you know. In ways no one else ever has.”

“Doesn’t sound too ominous. Sounds more like you’re threatening me with a good time.”

“Listen, if you want to take your chances…”

“I’d rather be safe than sorry. You’re scary for a little thing. Probably the only person on earth who DOES frighten me.”

“You SHOULD be afraid. Very afraid. I have powers. That you can’t even begin to comprehend.”

“If you’re threatening me with no sex, I’ll have you know that I went months without it. After you left. Almost an entire year. So don’t think I can’t do that again. I don’t want to, but…”

“Who am I kidding? I’d never do something like that. I’d suffer just as much as you would. If not more.”

Yawning noisily, she once more closes her eyes; enjoying the feel of his breath against the top of her head and the sound of his heart beating deep within his chest. And he’s teetering on the edge of sleep when he feels her move against him; finding her peering up at him, chin resting just below his shoulder.

“You alright?”

“I have something to tell you.”

“I don’t think I like the sound of that.”

“It’s nothing bad. At least not to me. You might see it a bit differently. When you hear what it is. But I just figured that since we’re doing this whole totally honest, completely open thing, there was no reason to wait. That we’re in a good enough place to talk about it.”

“If it has anything to do with when you left and started hiding out…”

“It’s nothing to do with that. Well, maybe it does. I don’t know. I suppose it’s kind of related. Very loosely, mind you. I just think this is the time to tell you about it. I’m finally awake and feeling a lot better, and we’ve had some really good talks tonight, and I guess I want to keep the ball rolling and just..”

“Esme, you’re rambling.”

“I don’t even know where to start. HOW to start.”

“Just spit it out. Say what you want to say. What you NEED to say.”

Sighing heavily, she briefly glances away, chewing nervously on her bottom lip. “I was the one who asked Alcott to get you out of prison.”

“What do you mean you were the one who…?”

“I had spies, okay. Informants. Keeping me up to date on you. Alcott, Nik, Yaz. You know, people I could trust; to do the job for me and keep quiet about it. I didn’t want you to know that I was keeping an eye on you; I know how much you hate being babied or coddled or worried and I was afraid you found out I was sticking my nose where it didn’t belong…”

“I would have just been happy to know you were okay. To know you even still gave a shit about me. I wouldn’t even have questioned it; you spying on me.”

“I always gave a shit about you. It was never about NOT giving a shit. I still worried about you. I still LOVED you. None of that ever stopped. Not even for a second.”

“I can’t believe I didn’t know about any of this. You and Alcott being buddies.”

“You know what it’s like in the circle. Everyone’s connected in some way.”

“And you asked him not to tell me. That he knew you.”

“There was no reason for you to know. It didn’t really have any bearing on anything. And it kept Millie and I under the radar; the fewer people who knew where we were and who were connected to, the better.”

“So he just called you and told you I was in prison?”

“Not exactly. Well, I mean, he DID. He was the one who let me know. But before that, he’d shown up in New York. Totally unexpected. And he told me all about the job in Georgia; how it involved your sister-in-law and her kids, and that it was Mia that hired you.”

“And…?”

“And it didn’t sit right. The whole thing just felt ‘off’ to me. I found it really…troublesome…that she sought you out like that. I mean, didn’t seem kind of weird to you? That after years of even knowing she was, she would just show up out of the blue? For something like THAT?”

“It was a little…odd.”

“I didn’t like it. At all. The fact she went looking for you. The fact that she would probably use your son’s death against you; use all that guilt and regret and grief to get you to do what she wanted. You can see why, right? Why I’d think that? Why I’d immediately go in that direction?”

“I’m not saying you were wrong for thinking it.”

“I knew once she did that, you’d go along with it. You’d take the job; not even caring about how risky it was or how dangerous the Nagazi were. So naturally, that made me even more nervous. Knowing you were going into something like that.”

“And Alcott kept you up to date? On what was happening?”

“I asked him to let me know how things went. Like I said, I was worried about you. And I knew all about Davit and Zurab and what they and their people were capable of. It scared me, alright? I didn’t want anything to happen to you. I loved you. You were the father of my daughter. And the thought of her losing you before ever even having you…”

“This is just…” He laughs incredulously and shakes his head. “Wow.”

“I knew exactly when the job started. Day, time. Right down to the very second. And Alcott was supposed to let me know how things went; get a hold of me as soon as you were free and clear from the prison and on your way to Vienna. So I could rest a little easier, you know? Only I didn’t hear from him for a few days. Which got me totally freaked out. I left messages, I sent texts. Nothing. Just silence.”

“And then…”

“And then I put more feelers out. I reached out to other colleagues. People I’d worked with in Europe. Specifically in and around Austria. I knew if anyone could find out if you made it there safe and sound, it would be then. And then they called back and told me that you were alive, but they couldn’t tell me exactly where you were. That I was ‘need to know information’ and I didn’t need to know.”

“So Alcott…”

“He FINALLY got a hold of me. A week later. And he told me what happened in Vienna. How you killed Zurab but ended up getting busted by the cops and thrown in jail. You were going to be there a really long time, and I didn’t want that to happen. You didn’t deserve to be there. All the bad things the Nagazi did? All the horrible shit they inflicted on people? You should have been given a key to the city and a parade in your honour. Even had a day named after you.”

“Whether or not I did the right thing, what we do IS illegal.”

“I didn’t want you rotting away in there. Not for helping people. For getting that kind of trash off the street. And there were selfish reasons, too. For why I wanted you out of there. I already knew I was going to bring Millie to you. It had always been my plan; to take her to her dad before she turned six. And considering you were facing a life sentence, I couldn’t just sit back and do nothing. I wanted Millie to meet you. Have a relationship with you. And that couldn’t happen if you were locked up.”

“You’ve been really busy the last five years, haven’t you.”

“I was caught up in a few things,” Esme admits. “ Nothing that ever put Millie in danger. I’d never do that; take a job that could put her in harm’s way. There was no reason to think things would go so wrong with Alessio. I was so close; to getting all the information I needed. Everything had been so easy. Gone so smoothly. If I ever thought anyone would try and hurt her…”

“I never once thought that. That you’d put her in danger. I know how quickly things can go wrong. And if there was no reason to think that the job would go to shit…”

“Like I said, everything had been so easy. It was all running so smoothly. I would have been finished in a week. Two at the most. I don’t know what happened; I don’t know how things went so badly. But I never would have agreed to help Nik out if I even had the tiniest worry that Millie could be hurt. That’s my little girl. My baby. She’s all I had; my only connection to you. I wouldn’t have agreed to anything that could possibly hurt her. I…”

“Esme, you don’t have to defend yourself. To anyone. Let alone me. I’m the last person who’d ever judge you. All the things I’ve done? You really think I’d think less of you?”

“She’s your daughter, too. It would be really easy for you to be angry. Look what happened. Alessio’s family tried to kill us. It’s only reasonable that you’d be pissed about that.”

“I am pissed about that. But I’m pissed at them, not you. I know how much you love Millie. How well you’ve taken care of her. Look how happy she is. How healthy. How fucking smart. That’s not a kid being raised by a shitty mother.”

“She’s my entire world. I waited so long to be a mom. I’d never do anything that would put her in danger. I’d never…”

“I believe you. I’m not accusing you of anything. I’ve never once thought something like that.”

“The other night you were pretty angry. And you asked me how I could ever put her at risk like that. Why I would even go back to the job with her in the picture. You…”

“I didn’t mean any of that. I was pissed. Hurt. I’m an asshole when I’m going through shit like that. I say things I don’t mean. I’ve always been that way. You know that.”

“Still, there had to be some truth to it, right? To your words? There must have…”

“I love you, Esme. I always have. And I’m sorry that I lashed out like that. Said those things. But I didn’t mean them. I was hurt. And I wanted you to hurt too.”

“Well, you succeeded. Because it did. Hurt. I may have deserved to hear it…”

“You didn’t. You’re the last person who deserves it. It was just me being an insensitive prick. That’s something I need to work on. Not lashing out like that. I don’t want to hurt you. That’s the last thing I want.”

“I guess we both have things we need to work on, huh?”

“There’s a list. Or two. And we’ll get to it when everything settles down. For now, can we go back to what we were originally talking about? Alcott? What happened after he contacted you and told you where I was?”

“I couldn’t let you waste away in jail,” she continues. “They would have kept you in there for the rest of your life. So I asked Alcott if there was any way he could pull some strings. Did he know someone on the inside who could help get you out of there? He arranged a meeting. Between me and his boss. I already knew him; from my time in New York when I was doing freelance work. I’d done a few intel jobs for him. Nothing too major. But if anyone could help, I knew it would be him. That’s a man with a lot of power. A lot of people under his thumb.”

“He is NOT the kind of person you should be mixed up with.”

“I had been offered some work. In Abu Dhabi. That involved one of his biggest rivals. So I made a business proposition; I’d hand over all the information I had and the whereabouts of this person in exchange for getting you out of prison. But he’d only agree if you would be the one to take over; take everything I knew and go after his rival and kill him. It was up to Alcott to offer you the deal; do a job for them and earn your freedom.”

“I can't believe you stuck your nose in that shit.”

“Look, I did it because I love you. Because I always have. Nothing changed in those five years. If anything? Missing you like that? Having a baby…YOUR baby…it made me love you even more. I couldn’t just sit back and do nothing. Let you rot away in that prison. You didn’t deserve to be there. All you did was take out the trash.”

“I did a little more than that.”

“It was all you? That made all that happen?”

“I just came up with the idea. Alcott had to make it happen. He did the hard work.”

“I don’t know, getting in contact with the likes of his boss? That takes some balls. That’s the last person you ever should have trusted.”

“I didn’t have a choice. I had to get you out of there. And I needed help to make it happen. There was no one else. Believe me, if there had been, I would have asked them.”

“You did all of that? Put yourself at risk? For me?”

“Okay, so you may have shot the ever-loving shit out of Vienna. And came very close to burning the entire city to the ground. But it’s not like you didn’t have help.”

He gives a small chuckle.

“I couldn’t leave you there, Tyler. Just like I couldn’t leave you on that bridge in Dhaka. And I got you out of jail just as much for me as I did for you. Because I knew I’d see you again. Because I wanted you to meet Millie and be a part of her life. Finally get to be her dad. And that couldn’t have happened if you were stuck in there.”

He nods slowly as he considers her words.

Pushing her fingers through his, she brings their joined hands to rest on her collarbone and presses a kiss to the corner of his mouth. “You’re not mad, are you? Please tell me you’re not mad. I didn’t bring it up to cause issues. I just figured we’ve been so open and honest with each other and we both want to keep that going and…”

“I’m not mad in the slightest. I have no reason to be. I’m more surprised than anything; hearing you were involved in all that. I never would have connected any of that to you. Not in a million years.”

“At the time it all went down, I didn’t want you to know it was me. I wasn’t ready; for us to come face to face. I was scared, and I was holding on to so much guilt and regret, and I didn’t want those things ruining it, you know? So I asked Alcott to help me. And before your mind goes there, he helped me as a FRIEND. Nothing more. There never was -and never will be- anything between us.”

“He knows better than to even try. He knows I’d kill him.”

“Always the protective one.” She nuzzles the underside of his chin with the tip of her nose. “Always.”

Smiling, he pecks the bridge of her nose, then rests his brow against his. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“Everything.”

“I never stopped worrying about you, Tyler. I worried every second of every day. That something bad would happen, and I’d never get the chance to see you again. Or that you’d ever get a chance to see Millie. Or hear me say that I was sorry.”

“But we did get that chance. All of that happened.”

“It shouldn’t have taken so long.”

“We’re not going to talk about that. Getting into the reasons why. Not right now.” Tightening his hold on her, his hand falls to her hip as she presses herself into his side and rests her head on his chest.

“You know how you always say there’s nothing you wouldn’t do for me? Well, it’s a two-way street. Because there’s nothing I couldn’t do for YOU.”

“I know. Believe me, I KNOW.”

“We take care of each other. It’s what we do. It’s who we are.”

“It’s kinda only gone one way. Taking care of each other. At least until now.”

“Well, in all fairness, I’ve never really given you a chance. To take care of me. And that’s mainly because I don’t get in nearly as much trouble as you do.”

He smirks. “I’m not quite sure about that.”

“For what it’s worth, you’re really good at. The whole taking care of someone thing. It’s a whole different side of you. That you don’t let anyone else see. Just me.”

“There’s a lot of those sides.”

“I’m lucky. You’ve always felt comfortable showing them to me. Right from the start of things. In Dhaka. You never hid them from me. You never hid the REAL you.”

“I never felt a reason to.”

Smiling, she reaches up to once more trace the various scars and cuts that decorate his face. Gentle fingertips glide over old and faded, raised and angry, a nail slowly travelling the entire length and curve of his jaw. “I do love you, you know.”

Their distinct differences had prevented him from developing something more with Nik; drawn instead to the normalcy and practicality that Esme brought into his life. She had always longed for a much simpler and quieter existence; preferring not to draw attention to herself and never surrounding herself with those that they encountered in their respective careers Somehow managing to keep the two sides of her life -of HERSELF- completely separate; leaving the job behind the second a mission wrapped and able to -no matter how brief- enjoy a normal life. The job didn’t control her, and she didn’t obsess over her successes and failures. Indulging instead in all the little moments that came with routine and domesticity. Nik, however, was unable ever to let the job go. Spending every waking moment immersing herself in the lifestyle and enjoying its spoils. And she certainly never entertained the idea or wish of something more beyond it; laughing off any suggestion that perhaps marriage and children and settling down were somewhere in her cards.

He had never realized he wanted any of that either; his first marriage had crashed and burned, and he’d been a complete and utter failure as a father. But then he’d met Esme, and everything quickly changed. HE changed. Finding himself both mesmerized and intrigued by the love and joy she somehow still possessed for life and everyone in it, the whimsy she possessed, and those hopeful and wistful dreams that she carried with her everywhere she went.

THAT was someone he could see carving out a future with.

Upon arrival, he reluctantly puts his trust in the medic to ‘deliver’ Esme to the waiting doctor; a longtime colleague of Nik’s who has attended to many injuries -both minor and life-threatening and everything in between- over the course of the last decade and a half. The largest of the villa’s guest rooms is already prepared and stocked with various medical equipment and supplies: a machine to monitor vitals, an IV stand and a pain medicine pump. And it isn’t until that moment that he’s able to register his discomfort; plagued by near-crippling mental and physical exhaustion. His entire body screaming in pain; his lower back on fire, both his knees stiff and painful, and his head pounding from a likely concussion of his own. Yet he knows sleep will likely elude him. Plagued by a potent mixture of emotions; the profound worry for Esme, the lingering regret and guilt for his choices, and his momentary lapse of judgement. And a rage that remains on a low boil when it comes to both Alessio, his actions, and Winston’s betrayal and the words he’d spoken in the basement.

Instead of allowing himself to second-guess his decisions and plot revenge, he focuses on Millie. Carefully unbuckling her from the booster seat in the back of one of Nik’s many chauffeured cars, easily lifting her with one arm and tucking her tight into his chest. Her legs and arms dangle loosely as her head rests on his shoulder; not offering up even the slightest of flinches or mumbles when he tosses her sequined unicorn backpack -full of her art supplies, finished pictures, and her beloved doll and koala bear- over his shoulder.

“Her room’s the first one at the top of the stairs.” Nik nods toward the central staircase; gleaming white and gray marble accompanied by polished steel handrails and glass panels. “On the right.”

It makes the bitterness return; the realization that Millie has her own ‘place’ in Nik’s home. An expansive and beautiful suite fit for a princess, decorated in all of her favourite colours, holding all of her favourite toys and belongings, the closets filled with her clothes. He had been robbed of all of that; never getting the chance to put a crib together, change a single diaper, put her in a bubble gum pink onesie, or slip one of those ridiculous flowered headbands onto her head. He never got to tuck her in and read her a bedtime story; he was never able to help with potty training or assist with brushing her teeth. He hadn’t witnessed her going from rolling from back to front and side to side to sitting up and eventually pulling up into a stand. He wasn’t there when she’d taken her first steps, hadn’t seen her learning to run, and hadn’t heard her first words.

So many missed opportunities. Things that others had been blessed to experience. While he’d never even known of her existence.

He uses a hip to push open the door and an elbow to flick on the light. The room is enormous; possessing its own walk-in closet and ensuite bath and a separate crafting area sectioned off with a dinosaur AND princess-themed room divider. An entire wall is taken up with built-in shelves, hosting books, stuffed animals, and a wide selection of Barbie dolls, action figures, and matchbox cars. A wrought iron canopy bed sits in the middle of the room and atop a three-stepped platform; the frame decorated with pink and gray camouflage drapes and the mattress covered in a Batman comforter.

Tossing the backpack in a nearby chair, he climbs the steps to the bed; Millie clutched to his chest with one arm as his free hand pulls back the blankets and flat sheet. And she gives a slight whimper and a heavy sigh when he places her in the middle of the mattress; her eyes flickering open as she lets out a long, soft “daddy” and reaches up for him.

Time seems to stand still. His entire body tenses as the emotions -profound and overwhelming- rush through him. It’s been a long time since he’s been called that; over a decade since Austin had addressed him that way during his last weeks in the hospital as the cancer ravaged him. Esme had been the one who’d given him a semblance of hope; that one day he’d once more be given that title and he’d hear the word come out of a little one’s mouth. When she left, that dream had evaporated; gone was the one person he could ever see making that kind of commitment and building that kind of future with. And while Millie may not be fully aware of what she’s saying in a semi-conscious moment, it still nearly brings him to his knees; tears welling in his eyes as his throat tightens and his heart hammers within his chest.

Grumbling her displeasure of being awakened, Millie sits up in bed; her brow furrowed and eyes half closed, a pout curving her lips. Stuck in a state of disorientation and confusion as she glances around the room. “Where are we?”

“We’re at Auntie Nik’s house. The one in Italy. Remember how I told you? About how we were going to stay here for a few days?”

“Oh…” Yawning noisily, she presses the heels of her palms into her eyes. “...yeah…I remember. Where’s momma?”

“The doctor is taking a look at her. Just to make sure she’s doing alright. Then she’s going to sleep. Just like you’re going to. You want jammies on or are you just gonna sleep in your clothes or…?”

“Jammies, please. Where’s Franklin? And Posie? I can’t sleep without Franklin or Posie. Posie needs her jammies on, too. They’re with mine. They match.”

Collecting the doll and koala out of the backpack, he drops them on the bed. “And the jammies…”

“In my dresser. Top middle drawer.”

He searches for pyjamas for both her and the doll, finally locating matching nightgowns: white cotton with thin straps, the fabric emblazoned with colourful butterflies.

“Those are my favourite!” Millie enthuses, as she wriggles out of her clothes. “Mommy made those for us! Out of pillowcases! They’re really supposed to be dresses, but I always liked wearing them as jammies. So does Posie.”

“Your mum’s a pretty talented one, isn’t she?”

“Most of the time. Just don’t ask her to cook. She’s not very good at that. At all. My dirty clothes go in there…” She nods towards the ensuite bathroom.. “...that’s where the washer and dryer are.”

“You have your own washer and dryer? You're four.”

“It’s not like I know how to use them. They’re just there. For convenience, I guess. Well, I do know HOW to put stuff in the wash and in the dryer. I just can’t reach to turn them on.”

“You are way too smart for your own good.”

“Mom says that all the time.”

Retreating to the ensuite, tossing the clothes into the washer; leaving the door open for more to be added later. And when he returns to the bedroom, both Millie and the doll are already in their pyjamas; the four-year-old waiting in bed with a hairbrush in one hand, and a package of elastics in the other.

“We have to do my hair. Or it gets really knotted when I’m asleep and then it’s really hard to brush it in when I get up.. And it hurts like hell too! Do you know how to braid hair?”

“No.”

“I can teach you!”

“How about we leave that for tomorrow? When it’s not so late. Think maybe we could do something else with it? Put it in a bun or a ponytail or…?”

“Ponytail is alright. But you gotta put it up on the top of my head, or I can’t sleep. ‘Cause it hurts to lie on it.”

He gingerly and patiently works the brush through Millie’s tresses, then gathers it in both hands and secures it with the hair tie she passes to him. It’s a simple experience shared with his daughter, yet it brings back vivid memories of similar moments with her mother. Those times when Esme would be busy in the kitchen; focused on a recipe she was trying to recreate or the baking that had that little cabin filled with delicious aromas. He’d approach her from behind; sneaking a kiss to her cheek or temple before putting her hair back for her.

“What else?”

“I gotta brush my teeth.”

“How ‘bout we skip it tonight?”

“Momma won’t like that.”

“I won’t tell her if you won’t. We’ll just make sure you brush them twice as long after breakfast.”

“Does that work? Does it really make up for not doing it before bed?”

“Of course. Would I lie to you?”

Millie shakes her head, ponytail swaying from side to side.

“So does your mum read a story to you or…?”

“Sometimes. Not every night. Only if I ask. I’m too tired tonight. No stories. But thank you.”

“Do you want me to just tuck you in or…?”

“Will you snuggle with me? Just for a little bit? It’s been a really bad day, and I’m still super sad. I need a snuggle. A really good one. And momma can’t do it, so…”

He agrees to the snuggle; moving towards the door in order to shut off the lights, pauses with his hand on the switch. “You got a night light or something?”

“Nope. I’m not scared of that dark, daddy. I’m not a baby!”

He wants to tell her that yes, she is. That she’s HIS baby. How regardless of how old she gets and how many children she has of her own, she always WILL be. And while the first time being called daddy had been a shock, the second occurrence hits even harder; the realization that it was a fully conscious decision on Millie’s part and not just a slip of the tongue… a random moment…while still teetering on the edge of sleep. He’s thankful for the darkness that envelopes the room when he turns off the light, able to hide the tears sparkling in his eyes and the millions of questions a very observant Millie will lob at him. And climbing into bed beside her, he wraps both arms around her; that tiny body snuggling tightly against him, doll and bear under one arm, her face nestled in his ribs.

“You good?”

“I’m good. You’re nice and warm. And comfy. You make me feel safe. Like I don’t have anything to be scared of.”

“There’s nothing to be afraid of. No one can hurt you anymore. I won’t let them.”

“Promise?”

“Promise. And I’d promise with a million pinkie promises.”

“That’s a lot!”

“That’s how honest I’m being. You and your mum ARE safe. And I’ll make sure you stay that way. I won’t let anyone hurt you guys. And there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for either of you. You know that, yeah?”

“Yeah.” Nuzzling her face against his side, she places her free hand on his chest. “Will you draw on my back? Please? It helps me sleep.”

He obliges, his own eyes closing as his fingertips create random patterns on her back. Several minutes passing before she yawns and raises her head to look at him, eyes sparkling in the moonlight that streams through the curtains.

“Daddy?”

“Millie?”

“Can I ask you something?”

“You’re supposed to be sleeping.”

“I’ll go to sleep AFTER I ask my question.”

“What is it?”

“You and momma lived together, right? Before I came along? In Australia?”

“We did.”

“In the house you live in now?”

“No. A different house. In a different part of Australia.”

“But the house you live in now is the house we are ALL going to live in? Or do we have to get a new one?”

“We won’t have to get a new one for a while. There’s enough room for all of us. And maybe one or two more people.”

“That means you and momma can start having babies!”

“That’s something your mum and I would have to talk about. I don’t know if she’s quite ready for that. Having babies.”

“Well, I hope she’s ready soon. ‘Cause I really want to be a big sister. And I’m not getting any younger!”

“If you think you’re not getting any younger, how do you think I feel? I’m way older than you are.”

“How much older?”

“A lot.”

“How much is that? How old ARE you?”

“I’m forty.”

“Holy shit!”

“Excuse you? Forty’s not THAT old.”

“It’s middle age! You’re older than momma!”

“I am.”

“Momma’s only thirty-four. But she’s going to be thirty-five soon. Maybe we can have a party for her. For her birthday.”

“I don’t see why we couldn’t.”

“We can even make her a birthday cake and put up balloons and streamers and play games! We can even take her out for dinner!”

“You got it all planned, do you?”

“Most of it. I don’t know about the guest list, though.”

“That’s something we can talk about when it’s closer to the time. For now….” He drops a kiss on the top of her head. “...it’s time for bed. It’s late. And it’s been a really long day. Time to sleep, okay?”

“Okay.” Pushing herself up onto her elbow, she pecks his cheek, followed by the corner of his mouth. Her face buried in his ribs as she once more lies down next to him. “Goodnight, daddy. Love you.”

Tears threaten once more. “I love you, too. So very much.”

*****

He’s teetering on the edge of sleep when a soft knock comes to the door; Nik standing on the threshold, motioning for him to join her and the doctor in the hallway. Carefully slipping from under Millie’s arm and out of bed, he tucks the blankets around her slumbering form and then leans down to press a kiss to her forehead. Reluctantly leaving her side, he joins Nikand the doctor in the hallway, quietly shutting the door behind him.

“How’s she doing?” Nik inquires, her voice scarcely above a whisper.

“She’s finally asleep. I don’t know where she gets all that energy from. She wore me out a long time ago.”

“You’ve got your work cut out for you, daddy. She’s cute as hell, but she can be a real handful. And you’ve just been thrown right to the wolves.”

“Esme?” Tyler addresses the doctor. “ How is she?”

“Very lucky. Considering the intensity of the crash and the damage done to the vehicle, I’m surprised we’re not looking at life-threatening injuries. If not worse.”

“Anything I need to worry about or…?”

“For the most part, I agree with the medic’s findings. There’s no sign of internal bleeding, and there’s no dilation of the pupils, slurred speech, or difficulties with reflexes. And no confusion; she was able to tell me her full name, what day, month, and year it was, and give a very detailed description of what exactly happened. Ruling out a brain injury, the diagnosis remains the same; whiplash and a moderate to severe concussion. Both should begin to ease within the next few days. I do suspect a bruised liver and spleen, however. I’ll be able to monitor those over the next forty-eight hours. For any sign of tearing or rupture.”

“He does think the sternum is broken,” Nik pipes up. “Based on the severity of the pain. And limited movement.”

“Nothing more than a hairline fracture,” the Doctor explains. “And nothing that we could repair surgically or even cast for. The best course of action is none; just letting it heal on its own. She’ll need to rest it for at least four weeks; no lifting anything over ten pounds, no repetitive movement. She can wear a sling if she finds it lessens the discomfort. As far as I can tell, the majority of the pain is actually from the contusion caused by the seat belt; deep and prolific bruising from the top of her shoulder, running diagonally to the left hip. I have her on IV antibiotics and pain meds for the next twenty-four hours; after that I’ll be able to switch her to oral medication.”

“Can she eat or drink? If she wakes up hungry or thirsty…?”

“She’s allowed both solids and liquid. I suggest keeping meals small and light. Her system is in shock from the amount of injuries and the pain; anything too heavy could cause stomach upset. And preventing further discomfort is important at this time.”

“And how long will we have to stay here? When can I take her home?”

“Within a week, she should be able to move around quite freely and without much difficulty or pain. I wouldn’t suggest flying any sooner than that; the altitude would put pressure on the brain, and with the concussion, it could cause severe issues. Swelling, blood clots, aneurysms. It’s safer to wait seven days. After that, even when home, you’ll have to keep an eye on her; make sure she stays on top of her meds, and follows the rules when it comes to healing properly.”

“But she’s going to be okay? She’ll be back to normal? Eventually?”

“She’s young and healthy. There’s nothing to suggest she WON’T be back to normal. Just keep an eye out for anything that suggests trouble; severe headaches beyond what a concussion would provide, any unexplained swelling and redness anywhere on the body, a high fever, speech issues, or any loss of consciousness. If any of those happen, she has to be seen immediately. Wherever you are. Now…” Tilting his head to the side, his eyes narrow as he takes in the various bruises and cuts on Tyler’s neck and face. “...perhaps I should take a look at YOU now.”

“You don’t need to. I’m fine. I cleaned myself up. Fixed what I could. I don’t…”

“You should be looked at,” Nik gently persuades. “Esme wasn’t the only one in that accident. You’re pretty banged up. Just let the doctor take a look and…”

“I said I’m fine.” His voice stern. Harsher than it needs to be. “I’ve gone through a lot worse. And lived to tell about it. All I really need is some sleep.”

“If you have your own concussion or some internal damage or…”

Ignoring Nik, he once more addresses the doctor. “I’ll let you know if I start feeling worse. Right now, I’m just tired. I just need to rest. It’s been a hell of a long day. Thank you,” He offers his hand. “For taking care of her. If anything had have been seriously wrong…”

“She’s going to make a full recovery. And because of her good health and how she’s taken care of herself throughout her life, she’ll likely heal faster than most. Right now, rest and relaxation are her best friends. And keeping up with a med schedule. I’ve left my home and cell numbers on the nightstand in the bedroom; call if you have even the slightest bit of concern. I’ll be right over.”

Nodding in both appreciation and farewell, he turns on his heel to head for the bedroom next door.

“Tyler…wait…”

“Nik, not tonight. I’m not in the mood for this shit. I’m tired, and I’m sore, and I desperately need at least a few hours of sleep.”

“I wasn’t going to…”

“I don’t need to have the doctor look at me, and I sure as hell don’t need you getting on my ass. So if you're even thinking about bringing up me leaving when all this is over…”

“Actually, I WAS going to say that I had your things brought to the room. And that there are fresh towels and facecloths in the bathroom. I would have had one of the other guest suites made up, but I already knew you would argue with me; that you wouldn’t want to be away from her.”

“Despite how rough things have been…between us…I do appreciate it, Nik. Everything that you’ve done. Especially in the last few days. I don’t agree with what you did; not letting me know that Esme was alive and that I had a kid out there. And it’s going to take me a hell of a long time to get over it. I can’t pretend I’m not pissed off. That I’m not hurt. I can’t just turn all that off, you know? It isn’t something I can just forgive.”

“I couldn’t betray her trust. Not even for you. She relied on me; to keep her and Millie safe. And I…”

“Safe from who? Me? I wasn’t a threat to them. You didn’t need to protect them from me.”

“She wanted to protect you. She thought she was doing the right thing. And whether I agreed with that or not…”

“I’m not going to get into this right now. I just can’t do it. I’ve said everything I needed to say. Other than thank you. For taking care of her and Millie. Keeping them safe. You didn’t have to step up like that, but you did. And if it wasn’t for you, who knows where they’d be right now. Kinda scares me to even think about it.”

“I took care of them for YOU. Because I knew one day she’d track you down and you’d get that chance; to be a family and grow old together. I WANTED that for you, Tyler. I wanted you to get your ‘happy ever after.’ And I’ve never seen you as just a commodity. You’ve always been more than that. Much more.”

“I want to believe that, Nik. I do. But right now…”

“You’re hurt. You’re angry. And you’ve got every right to feel those things. I just hope one day you’ll realize what I did, I did for them and YOU. Try and get some rest. It’s been a long day. And Millie is going to have you up and bright and early, believe me.” “If it’s before the crack of dawn, I’m sending her to you.”

“Don’t even think about it. I plan on sleeping until noon.”

“You’re gonna up with the sun, and you know it. It’s just who you are. The way you’re made.”

“Try and relax, Tyler. It’s safe here. THEY’RE safe.”

“Sometimes that’s easier said than done.”

“In a week’s time, you’ll be back home. With your family. The chances of any threats finding you there…”

“There’s always a chance, Nik. You know that.”

“I’ll do what I can. When it comes to handling things in New York City. Making sure the trouble stays there. And once things settle down…for good…that’s it. You’re free.”

“Only if you’ll let me be.”

“It’ll be hard to let you go. We’ve been through a lot together. SEEN a lot.”

“You should know by now that you can’t get rid of me THAT easy. After all, you’re Auntie Nik, yeah? Something tells me Millie wouldn’t stand for you just up and disappearing.”

“She doesn’t have to worry about that. She’s my family. So is her mom. And so are you. Sleep well. You’ve earned it.”

Nodding in agreement and apprehension, he moves towards the guest room, hesitating as his fingers curl around the door handle, and just as Nik steps onto the top landing of the stairs. “Nik?”

She hesitates.

“Thank you.”

She manages a weary smile. “Goodnight, Tyler.”

*****

A long, hot shower makes him feel almost human again. Thirty minutes spent standing motionless under a punishing stream of hot water as it not only rid his hair and body of remaining remnants of debris and blood, but brought some relief to his lower back, base of his skull, and both shoulders. Afterwards in the light of the bathroom, he’s able to better assess the damage done to his body; various cuts and abrasions along both arms and legs, large bruises on the front and backs of his thighs and in the middle of his back, several smaller across his collarbone. A perfect impression of the steering wheel -and its emblem- covers the majority of his sternum, and the skin on the left side of his rib cage has begun to turn vivid, various shades of purple and blue. Far surpassing the damage done in Georgia and Vienna, even WITH the gunshot to his hand and to his lower left abdomen. The latter missing all vital organs and lodging near his hip; an easy removal for the medical team at the Graz-Karlau prison. Barely leaving a scar behind and requiring a very short rest and recovery time.

He navigates the bedroom by both the streaks of moonlight that spill through the window coverings and the glow given off by the portable ECG machine monitoring Esme’s vitals. Rummaging through the rucksack; he locates the lone pair of sweats he’d packed for his initial business trip; grimacing at the stiffness in his knees and discomfort in his back as he steps into them. The bed -more expansive than an average king- is more than large enough for both of them to sleep in, and for her to be kept safe from his tossing and turning; eager to spare her an errant elbow to the back or stomach or a knee into a thigh. And he creeps to her side, watching as she sleeps soundly; light, peaceful smile curving her lips’ with her face turned towards the window. The soft, silvery sheen the moon casts upon her face shows off the various cuts and bruises that she’d incurred earlier in the day; the vivid purple and blue upon her forehead, across the bridge of her nose, and on the tops of both cheeks and under one eye.

It’s painful to look at; the mere thought of her injured and in discomfort nearly splitting his heart in two. Hating his perceived negligence and failure to keep her safe had led her to this; hooked up to various wires and tubes from the IV and pain. Hurting far worse than he’d ever expected it to; believing that watching his son suffer and waste away had steeled him against witnessing someone experiencing pain and illness. But it aches to his very soul; twisting and wrenching at his guts and a sorrow -for someone who is still very much alive- creating a death grip around his heart. And emotion chokes at him as he crouches at the side of the bed; smoothing a hand over her hair and laying his palm on the top of her head, thumb repeatedly brushing across her brow.

“I’m so sorry, Me.” He grazes his knuckles over her bruised and swollen cheek. “I am so fucking sorry.”

She murmurs in her sleep, then releases a long, soft sigh as she nestles her cheek into his palm.

“And I’m sorry for being as angry and as hurt as I am. I know you did the best you could; that you left because you were scared, and you wanted to protect me. But you kept my daughter from me. When there was no reason to. And I don’t know how long it’s going to take me to get over that. If I ever really do. But that doesn’t mean I don’t love you. I have ALWAYS loved you. Those five years changed nothing.” Leaning forward, he presses a lingering kiss to her brow, then to her lips. “You sleep, okay? ‘Cause that’s the only way you’re gonna get better. Because that’s what Millie needs; her mom back to normal. And I need that too.” He pulls back with a heavy sigh; running the tip of his index finger down the bridge of her nose. “This is all going to be over soon. I promise. There’s nothing for you to be scared of anymore. No one can hurt you now. And they won’t hurt you EVER again.”

His knees crack, and he bites back the pain as he stands. The limp in his right leg more pronounced as he retreats to his side of the bed, peeling back the layers of blankets and slides underneath. His body is sore and weary, and his head immediately sinks into the pillow; the case and the crisp, linen sheets cool and refreshing against his skin. He’s never experienced this level of exhaustion; not even during the months of tedious and often agonizing physical therapy sessions that had preceded his release from the hospital in Dubai. It’s a tiredness that is bone…SOUL…deep; both limbs and eyes feeling impossibly heavy, his own body seeming rooted to its place. And despite the years of frequent bouts of insomnia, it isn’t long before rest claims him. Lulled to sleep by the faint beeping of the EKG machine, Esme’s soft rhythmic breathing, and the rolling of the waves as they wash up onto the shore.

*****

He sleeps soundly despite the pain and only over-the-counter pills to dull it, stirring only once when the nurse crept into the room in the dead of the night to change Esme’s IV and med bag and then reset the pump. He remembers a brief, exhausted chat; the nurse apologizing for waking him, the exchange of pleasantries, and his peppering of questions in regards to Esme’s vitals and the continued care she’ll be receiving. Already back asleep before the woman even finished her duties and slipped from the room. When he finally wakes for the day, it’s courtesy of a tiny hand repeatedly -and remarkably vigorously- shaking him and a tiny voice calling his name. And cracking open his eyes, he moans in discomfort when he’s immediately greeted by the sun’s harsh rays, followed by Millie’s wide, beaming smile as she stands at the side of the bed. Clad in her pyjamas with her doll under one arm, teddy under the other; her high ponytail having loosened in her sleep and now sitting at an awkward angle on the side of her head.

“Hi!” she chirps. “Hi, daddy.”

“Hey…”

“Did you sleep good?”

“Better than I expected to. Is something wrong?”

“Nope.”

“You’re okay?”

Millie nods.

“What are you doing? What…?”

“I’m hungry. My tum is complaining.REALLY loud. I went downstairs and looked for Carmen, but I couldn’t find her. And there’s no brekkie waiting in the kitchen. Usually, she has brekkie finished and waiting for me.”

“Who’s Carmen?”

“Auntie Nik’s cook.”

“Auntie Nik has a cook?”

“And someone that shops for her, someone that books all her appointments, a chauffeur, and a maid.”

“What does she do? If she has all those people doing everything for her?”

“Wears nice clothes and kicks butt and takes names.”

“Is that what you’re going to be like? When you’re older?”

“I’m already like that.”

Chuckling, he reaches out to playfully tug on her ponytail. “So I guess this means I better get my ass up, yeah? Can’t exactly do stuff on your own.”

“I CAN make my own breakfast. Well, just cereal and toast, but still, I’m ONLY four, so that’s pretty good, right? That I can do that?”

“Your mumma’s been doing a damn good job, that’s for sure. Teaching you things.”

“She wants me to be strong and independent. But not grow up too fast. But one day, I’ll be able to make pancakes and scrambled eggs and bacon. Not just boring old cereal and toast.”

“Are you trying to tell me you want something else? More than that?”

She giggles as she drops her chin to her chest. “I’m REALLY hungry. I could eat the shit out of a dead hippo.”

Smirking, he tosses off his blankets. “Where did you learn that?”

“I’m sorry, but I can’t give up my sources.”

“Well, you know what? I could eat the shit out of a dead hippo, too. So why don’t we go downstairs and raid the fridge, and see what we can dig up. Sound good?”

“Sounds good.” She steps back as he slides out of bed, her brow furrowing as she studies her mother’s bruised and battered and sleeping form.. “ What about momma, though? She’ll be all by herself. She might get lonely. What if she wakes up and we’re not here? She might be scared. And sad. I don’t want her to be scared and sad.”

“IF she wakes up, she knows we’re not far away. That we wouldn’t just leave her. She knows how much we love her; that we’d never just take off on her. Besides, she’s going to be doing a lot of sleeping for the next few days.”

“‘Cause the doctor said so?”

“It’s the best thing for her. So that her body can get better. And that’s what we want, yeah? Mumma to be all better?”

The four-year-old nods.

“How ‘bout you tuck her in? She’d like that.”

Her face visibly brightens. “Like a momma burrito?”

“Something like that. Don’t do it as tight, though. And be careful; you don’t want to get tangled up in all those wires and tubes. Careful and gentle, okay?”

Handing him her doll, she scurries around to Esme’s side of the bed; slipping her body between the machine and the IV stand and gingerly stepping over or slipping under various tubing and wires. Carefully spreading and smoothing the blankets over her mom’s body, then loosely tucking them underneath her. And a distinct sadness darkens her eyes and furrows her brow when she runs a palm over Esme’s hair and leans in to press a kiss to her cheek.

“I miss you, momma. I love you. You’ll feel better soon. I promise. Daddy and I will take really good care of you! Right, dad?”

Nodding, Tyler leans down to drop a kiss on the top of her head when she scurries back to his side; plucking the doll from his grasp.

“I’mma leave Posie here,” Millie announces, then proceeds to lift the top blanket and tuck her under it. “So she can keep an eye on mumma! And if mumma wakes up, she’ll see Posie here and know that I’m coming back for sure. ‘Cause I never leave Posie behind. Not for good!”

“You know, you have a really big heart in that little body of yours.”

“Momma always used to tell me that I got that from my daddy. That his heart was way bigger than his body, too. Is that really true? ‘Cause your body is super big!”

“Is that a polite way of calling me fat?”

“You’re not fat! You’re thick!”

He smirks. “I wonder where I’ve heard that before.”

“You’re like a giant! You’re really tall and crazy big! Do you think it’s true? What momma said? About your heart being bigger than your body? Because if it is, your heart is super huge!”

“You know what I think? I think your mum’s the most amazing human being I’ve ever known.”

“Next to me, right?”

“Yeah…” Scooping her up onto his arms, he presses pressing a kiss to her temple as he settles her on his hip. “...definitely next to you.”

*****

He relaxes in a poolside lounge chair; hair damp and matted to his head, his aching and tired body clad in a pair of board shorts bought during an impromptu shopping excursion with Nik and Millie. The latter fast asleep against his chest; snoring lightly, her eyes shielded by a pair of pink and purple polka-dotted sunglasses, her bathing suit -one of many she’d excitedly picked out- beginning to dry in the heat. Exhausted from the morning and early afternoon activities and the drama of the last seven days; the time spent in the sun and water solidifying her successful escape from New York City. Content and relaxed; confident that her old life is now firmly behind her and the new one is just lingering on the horizon. And despite the worry and sadness revolving around her mother’s injuries, she feels safe and secure; putting all of her trust into her surroundings and the people around her.

Nik joins them, standing at the side of his chairs with her hands shoved in the pockets of a pair of wide-legged, burgundy linen trousers and a pair of oversized sunglasses. A smile curling her lips as she glances down at a snoozing Millie.

“Out like a light.”

“She’s had a hell of a week. It was bound to catch up to her.”

“She doesn’t do that with just anyone. Fall asleep on them like that. Means she feels safe. Secure. She trusts you.”

“I’m not sure she’s making the right decision. Look what her mum’s trust in me got her.”

“What I said on the plane…about what happened…I didn’t mean for it to sound like I was blaming you.”

“That’s exactly what you meant for it to sound like. I know you, Nik; I know you don’t say shit you don’t believe. And you’ve never been one to pull punches.”

“I wanted an explanation. A reason. For how things went so wrong, so quick.”

“And I told you. They came out of nowhere. There’s no way I could have seen it coming. It just happened. And it happened THAT fast.”

“You didn’t hear anything? See anything? You..?”

“I was concentrating on driving. On getting us to the meet-up point. We’d just gone through all that fucking bullshit with Winston..”

“Which was probably weighing heavily on your mind. Probably had you on edge. Distracted.”

“...and all I wanted to do was get the fuck out of there. Get to you and Yaz and then to the airport. I thought the roads were clear; Wick had people blocking all the intersections, and you had eyes on things. Or at least I THOUGHT you did. Had you not pulled the guys early…”

“I thought you were in the clear. You were only three blocks away. I made a decision based on that. I did what I thought was best.”

“So did I. I did what I thought was best for Esme. To get her the fuck out of there. I had just gotten her away from Winston; all I had to do was get her to the airport and on that plane, and everything else was going to be easy. I trusted you to have the people in place. To have my six. And if I DID let my guard down, it’s because of that. Nothing else.”

“I admit, it wasn’t my best decision. I should have left them in place longer. Until we actually DID meet up. But…”

“I don’t want to talk about this anymore, Nik. You’re beating a dead fucking horse. I’m tired, and I’m sore, and I’ve got a lot on my plate. I don’t need this, too. Can we just let it go? I think you fucked up, you think I fucked up. Can’t we leave it at that?”

“I think I deserve an explanation. Not as your friend. But as your boss.”

“And I’ve told you everything there is to know. There isn’t always an explanation or a reason, Nik. Sometimes, shit just happens. There’s nothing simple about this job. It’s not just black or white. And you of all people should know that. You…”

When Milliie whimpers in her sleep, his mood abruptly changes; the tension in his jaw and shoulders releasing, the brightness returning to his eyes. And he smooths a hand over her and down her back, his lips soft as they press against her brow. “It’s alright, Amelia. I’m here. I’ve got you.”

She heaves a long, content sigh, then nestles her face against his chest and shoves her thumb into her mouth. And for several minutes, he and Nik remain silent; his chin resting on the top of Millie’s head and his hand rubbing her back in smooth, slow circles.

Nik uses a fingertip to sweep wayward strands of hair off of the little one’s forehead. “She’s beautiful.”

“She is. Esme and I do good work.”

“You most definitely do. Although I’m not sure how much work Esme actually put in. I think her genes were completely absent that day. Millie looks just like you.”

“That’s an awful thing to say about my kid, Nik. That she looks like her old man.”

“You know how many times Esme has heard it? How many people think she’s just a nanny? No one ever believes they’re actually mother and daughter. Until Millie opens her mouth of course; she tells stories EXACTLY like her momma does.”

“All over the damn place.”

“The only two people I know who can go off in five different directions and never get back to what started everything off.”

“You know how many times Esme will start a story, only for me to never find out what the original point of it was? Too many to count.”

“It’s just part of who she is. That exuberance and that light that she’s managed to hold onto. I’ve never met anyone like her, you know. Not in this circle, anyway. I don’t know how she does it; holds onto that optimism and that brightness. Everything she’s been through…the things she’s seen and the things she’s done…all of that has been stacked against her. Yet she’s still…Esme.”

“She’s the strongest person I’ve ever known. How many people do you think would have stuck around on that bridge? For someone like me?”

“Not a lot.”

“Yet she did. For some reason. She wasn’t leaving me there. And she had every reason to, believe me.”

“She saw the potential. Things about you that no one else did. Or maybe you just never LET people see them. See YOU.”

“Maybe a bit of both.”

“Maybe…”

“Were you there? When she was born?”

Nik nods. “I was.”

He glances down at his daughter; taking a deep breath and then noisily clearing his throat. A vain attempt at pushing away the emotion that threatens to choke him.

"Tyler…”

“Thank you.”

“For what?”

“Being there. For Esme. I’m glad she wasn’t alone.”

“She asked me. If I’d be the one to go in with her. And regardless of what you think, I tried telling her; convincing her to call you and let you know you were going to be a dad. I told her there was nothing for her to be afraid of; you weren’t going to ignore her call or turn her away or question whether or not the baby was yours. That there was nothing she could ever do to make you hate her that much.”

“I didn’t hate her at all. I never did. I loved her. I never STOPPED loving her.”

“And that’s what I told her. That you loved her and missed her and were spending all your time looking for her. That if there was ever a time TO contact you, that was it; the baby was very close to being born, the nursery was done, and the name was picked out. I told her you would be on the next plane there; to be with her and see your daughter come into the world.”

“But…”

“She was scared. Of rejection. Because she loved you, and her heart couldn’t take it; if you wanted nothing to do with her or the baby. I told her that that would never happen, but…”

“She’s pretty damn stubborn.”

Nik nods.

“You know I never got to see that with my son, either? Him being born? I was in Iraq; on my second tour with SASR. We were located just outside of Mosul. Mia was pissed about it; she was already six months pregnant when I signed up to go, and she knew there was no way I’d be back in time. I tried to justify it; I was one of the commanding officers, and they needed all hands on deck. Now I realize it’s just who I was; I wasn’t capable of putting her first. And I probably never even should have tried being a family man. I just didn’t have it in me.”

“You were young. You’d already spent years devoting everything you had to the military. It becomes ingrained in you. The only thing that really matters. Believe me, I know.”

“Sometimes I wonder if I ever really wanted to be. A husband and a father. At least back then.”

“You were in love. And you wanted to make her happy. You were willing to do whatever it took to make that happen.”

“I was. In love. Or I thought I was, at least. Took me until I was thirty-five to figure out it wasn’t the real deal. I think I just settled. The same way Mia did. I wasn’t really her type; she’d always been into lawyers and politicians and businesses. I was just some guy in the army. I wasn’t anything special.”

“To her, you were.”

“Guess she just wanted something different. Someone a little more dangerous. Younger.”

“And you were there. Ready, willing, and able. And lonely.”

“I don’t know what I was. Stupid, for the most part. But I’d lived practically my entire life without a family; my mum was long dead, and I’d already cut my dad out of the picture. Mia was there. I liked being around her. Not that we actually spent a lot of time together, considering her career kept her busy, and I was always being shipped off to different places.”

“And then your son came along…”

“He just sort of happened. We didn’t plan on having kids. She wasn’t even sure she wanted any. I was just so caught up in thinking I was in love and had found my ‘happily ever after’ that I didn’t really give a shit if we had any or not. But things happened, and he came along, and I tried my best to be a good dad. We know how THAT turned out.”

“That one choice you made…that one mistake…doesn’t mean you were a terrible father. It doesn’t negate the good things, Tyler. Or the love you had…you STILL have…for your little boy.”

“It was a hell of a mistake, Nik.”

“Doesn’t change the fact you loved him. That you still do. Or that HE loved YOU.”

“I never thought I’d be a dad again. I had no plans to be one, that’s for sure. I’d already done that once, and it didn’t end well. And then Esme came along and everything changed. I changed. She made me want to be a different person. A BETTER person. She wasn’t like anyone else. I knew that right away.”

“I think she knew that same thing about you.”

“Once she stuck around after Dhaka, I knew that was it. That SHE was it. I don’t regret it, Nik. The way things happened. I know it was the wrong place and totally the wrong time, but I wouldn’t change it. I wouldn’t change a fucking second. I would take that bullet to my throat a hundred times if it meant I’d be with her.”

She blinks at his honesty.

“When we decided to get the house and started talking about getting married and having a family, I was terrified. Of being a husband and a dad again. I didn’t want to fuck it up. I’d already screwed over one wife; Mia deserved a lot better than I ever gave her. That’s when I told myself it would be different. That I’D be different. I’d be the man that Esme needed and wanted. That she deserved. I’d be a good dad. The one I never had. I would do everything right; I’d be there for my wife, and I’d put my family first, and I wouldn’t be a total fucking failure.”

“You were never a failure, Tyler. You…”

“I used to think about it. Esme being pregnant. Seeing her get bigger and bigger. Feeling the baby move. Making a nursery. Going to all the appointments. I was looking forward to it; going through all of that with her. I’d missed it all the first time, I wasn’t going to miss it again.”

“I know what you’re going to say. I know…”

“That was all taken from me. I never got the chance. I was ready and I was willing, and I was able, and it never happened. Sure, she got pregnant, and the baby came along. But I just didn’t get to know about it. I didn’t get to be part of it, did I.”

“Tyler…”

“I don’t hate you, Nik. Let’s get that out of the way. We’ve been through way too much together. Not to mention everything you did for me after Dhaka and everything you did for Esme and Millie. That you continue to do for them. I could never thank you enough; for keeping Esme safe and for making sure that she didn’t go through everything alone and that she and Millie were taken care of.”

“I don’t need your thanks. They’re my family. So are you.”

“Like I said, I don’t hate you. I might not like you very much right now…”

“And I deserve that. I know I do. But I don’t regret the choices I made. I don’t regret helping Esme or keeping her secrets. And I would do it all again. No questions asked. And I’m sorry if it hurts you to hear that. It was never personal, Tyler. I never did any of that to intentionally hurt you. And I DID try and convince her to contact you. Many times.”

“I really hope that’s true, Nik. That I don’t find out something completely different. Because that whole not hating you thing? That could change. I can’t make any promises.”

******

Nik settles on the lounge chair beside him, stretching out of her legs and setting her clasped hands on her stomach.

“It was a beautiful day.”

Tyler arches a quizzical brow.

“When Millie was born. It was sunny and cool, and the leaves were just starting to change.”

“Seems kinda fitting. That she came along when she did. It was always her mum’s favourite season; Esme used to go on and on about fall in New York City. About how she’d always take walks in Central Park; she loved seeing all the different colours and hearing the leaves crunching under her feet and how the air actually seemed fresh for a change. She made it sound incredible. Beautiful.”

“She has a knack of seeing things differently than we do. She holds onto so much trust and wonder; she sees the beauty in everything. And everyone. She could watch the same sunset a million times and find a million different things to marvel at. I used to tease her about it; almost scold her for being that way. For always seeing the cup as ‘half full’. But now that I think about it, wouldn’t it be better if we all saw it that way?”

“She’s just different, Nik. From what we’re used to. We’ve all been through hell and back. In one way or another. And somehow she’s still like that. I used to give her shit for it, too. Always said she was setting herself up for disappointment if she kept seeing the world like she did. Seeing the good in everyone no matter how shitty they treated her. Even told her how stupid it all seemed; that she was being naive and childish and she was just going to get hurt.”

“If anything…anyone…is a breath of fresh air…”

“I realize now that if she didn’t see things the way she did? Millie wouldn’t even exist. Esme wouldn’t have stayed on that bridge. Dhaka wouldn’t have happened the way it did. The things that went down between the two of us. She wouldn’t even have given me a second look. She would have just seen me as a huge mess. A liability. And moved on with her life.”

“I know you talk about how she came along when you needed it the most, but have you ever thought that maybe you did too? That you came along when she needed you to? Because despite all that light and that brightness and that love for the world and everyone in it, there was a very broken and lonely woman…little girl, even…under all of it. I would see it sometimes; this sadness that would just take over. When she’d just seem so lost and vulnerable and hurting. That changed. When she met you. I saw it in that hospital. All that time she was holding on and fighting for you, she was holding on and fighting for herself too. She wanted to be what YOU needed. And what you deserved.”

“She is way more than I have ever deserved.”

”But she doesn’t see it that way. She doesn’t see YOU that way. You came along, and you pulled her out of a really dark, horrible place. And I know it’s hard to see that when you’re in a pretty bad place yourself, but it’s true. The two of you found each other when you both needed it the most. She didn’t just save YOU, Tyler. You saved her too. In more ways than one.”

Swallowing around the lump of emotion sitting square in his throat, his fingers moving through Millie’s damp hair as he nods slowly, considering Nik’s words.

“I know you probably have a lot of questions. About the last five years. About Millie. Maybe even about before she was born. If there’s anything you want to ask or know about it or I can help you understand better…”

“How was it? The pregnancy? Was it really hard on her? Were there any complications? I mean, I assume everything went okay, or we wouldn’t be having this conversation right now, but…”

“It was pretty uneventful. There were no scares. No real health issues. Yaz and I got a place in the city. We wanted to be close by; to keep an eye on her, make sure she was taking care of herself and that she got everything she…and the baby…needed. She was never alone, Tyler. Not physically, anyway. We were there when she needed us. Maybe too much at times. I’m sure we annoyed her a lot. I know I can be pretty assertive and overwhelming at times. And Yaz…”

“He’s always had a hard-on for her. I don’t think her being pregnant changed that. Knowing that little freak, it probably made it even better in his mind.”

Nik laughs. “Yeah, maybe. But it’s been harmless. He’s always known he doesn’t stand a chance.”

“I mean, she has bad taste in men, but it’s not THAT bad.”

“He was so into things. He loved the idea of being an uncle. He was constantly buying Miillie things; always showing up with toys and outfits and things Esme could put away until she was older. And when we found out it was a girl? He got even worse. That kid was going to be the biggest, most spoiled princess on earth.”

“Esme knew? That it was going to be a girl?”

“She didn’t want to know at first. She was pretty adamant about waiting. Letting it be a surprise. But she ended up caving. At the very last ultrasound. And low and behold, baby Rake was a little girl. We always called Millie that. By your last name. It might not be that on paper, but we talked openly about it. You were always on her mind, Tyler. There wasn’t a day that went by where she didn’t think about you. TALK about you. You may not have been there, but to Esme, that baby was just as much yours as it was hers.”

“I would have been there. If she’d called me out of nowhere and told me about the baby, I would have gotten on the first flight out of Australia. Nothing…no one…could have stopped me from being there. Not you, not Winston, not The High Table. No one.”

“And she knew that. Which is why she was determined NOT to tell you. I’m not saying she made the right decision. Or that I agree with how she handled things. But it was not my place to tell you. Especially about Millie. I couldn’t betray her, Tyler. Not even for you.”

“As hurt as I am, as PISSED as I am, I’m just glad she wasn’t alone. That people were there for her. I fucking hate I didn’t get the chance, but it’s never really about me, has it? It’s about her and Millie. Especially Millie. Always has been. And that’s the way it should be.”

“Esme was having that baby no matter what. Not once did she ever think about not having her. Let alone talk about it. She knew it wasn’t going to be easy and she was lonely and sad and missed you every second of every day. Millie was part of you. Her only connection to you. And there was no way she was giving that up.”

“She’s always wanted to be a mum. She talked about it a lot. When we lived in The Kimberley. About coming close with Mark and having that taken away from her. I don’t think she ever got over that. And I knew one day it would happen; she and I would get our shit together, and we’d start a family. I didn’t think it would happen this way, mind you.”

“She never stopped thinking about you, Tyler. Loving you. She talked about you all the time. About wishing you could be there. So, please…PLEASE…don’t ever think she didn’t want you in her life. Or Millie’s life. Because nothing could be further from the truth. That baby was all she had. Aside from Yaz and I, Millie was her only connection to you. And no one could take that away from her. She wouldn’t let them.”

“Did she ever talk about me to Millie?”

“Maybe not by name. But even she was just a tiny baby. Millie heard stories about you. And all good, believe me. Esme has NEVER said a bad word about you to that little girl. And she always promised that she’d take Millie to meet you; that one day they’d go to Australia and track you down and let you meet each other.”

“Esme had chances. She’s had four years, Nik. She…”

“She had to be ready. She had to get over all that fear and worry she had. I couldn’t force her to just stop being that way. We’ve already established how stubborn she is. But I’d be honest with her; I’d tell her that she needed to contact you and you had the right to know you were a dad. That you deserved to be part of Millie’s life. But other than that, there wasn’t much I could do.”

“What about when Millie was old enough to start asking questions? What did she tell her then?”

“She would tell Millie that her dad was a good person. A big man with an even bigger heart. That he lived far away and one day, they’d go and visit him. And that she loved him very much. She always would.”

His voice quivers with emotion. “I don’t even know what to say. What IS there to say?”

“I know it hurts, Tyler. What Esme did. Having your child kept from you. I can’t even begin to imagine what you’re feeling. But you need to know that it wasn’t done maliciously. It started with her wanting to protect you, then ended up being about wanting to protect herself.”

“From me? She didn’t need to protect herself from me. I’ve never been a threat to you. I have never hurt her. I’ve never raised my voice, let alone a hand to her. I never would. I’d kill myself if I ever got that way. If I ever laid even a finger on her in THAT way…”

“She was protecting her heart. She was scared, Tyler. That you’d turn her away. That you’d turn MILLIE away.”

“That would never…EVER…happen. No matter how pissed or hurt I was.”

“Rationally, she knew that. But fear…and love for that matter…don’t always have us thinking…or acting…rationally.”

Sighing, he glances down at Millie; running a fingertip down the bridge of her nose and then pressing a kiss to the tip.

“Would you like more?” Nik asks. “Kids?”

“I’d love more. I’d love to go through it all with her. I WANT that, That experience. With HER.”

“But…”

“But it’s kinda selfish, isn’t it? Wanting it for ME. She has to want it too.”

“I don’t think you need to worry about that. Something tells me she’s on the same page. She loves being a mom. And she’s good at it. Damn good.”

“She’s an amazing mum. I couldn’t have asked for a better mother for my kid.”

“You’re going to get your ‘normal’. Your ‘happily ever after’. It won’t be much longer now.”

He nods in agreement. “Thank you, Nik. For telling me all of this. I needed to hear it. Esme can say it all until she’s blue in the face, but hearing it from someone else?”

“It’s a different viewpoint. Coming from an outsider looking in. I just didn’t want you to think she never wanted you in her life, In Millie’s life. Because she did. She missed you, Tyler. Every second of every day. And believe me, I know she wishes she could change things. Go back in time and make different decisions.”

“I told her I wouldn’t want that. When you change one thing, you change everything. I believe that. And even if it were possible, I wouldn’t risk it. I wouldn’t risk a damn thing.”

Pushing through the discomfort, he manages to slide over the busted dashboard and out onto the filthy, debris-laden cement. And he rolls onto his back and briefly closes his eyes; arms resting against his sides and his lungs burning as he takes slow, deep breaths. A full recovery is futile; barely managing to orientate himself before a threat announces its presence. The roar of an approaching engine, followed by the squeal of tires and two rounds unleashed from an open, tinted window of a black SUV; the bullets piercing the already heavily damaged driver’s side door. He quickly reaches for the loaded Glock on his right hip, returning fire as he scrambles into a sit; the heels of his boots pressing against the asphalt as he pushes himself backwards. Placing himself in front of the missing driver’s window, effectively blocking the shooters’ line of sight and preventing them from firing into the vehicle.

He shoots strategically. Aiming for the assailants' feet and bringing them to their knees. Their positions allowed him to inflict the 'kill shots’; one single bullet in the centre of either of their foreheads. And holstering his gun, he moves quickly in anticipation of impending trouble; dropping to all fours and then onto his belly, staying as low to the ground as possible as he commando crawls to the opposite side of the SUV, then pushes himself up onto one knee in front of the passenger window. Using a gloved first to bust the window out entirely; hurriedly pulling the remaining shards of glass away from the frame.

“It’s going to be alright. I’m gonna get you out of here.” He speaks to Esme as he removes the jacket from her face and carefully peels it away from her injured body; folding it into a makeshift pillow that he places on the asphalt.

Gently running a hand over her bloodied head, he once more drops down onto his stomach; sliding across the pavement until he’s halfway in the SUV and able to reach for the buckle on her seat belt. Muttering a string of profanities when he discovers the damage to the vehicle is too great; metal and plastic twisted and knocked horribly out of place, effectively rendering the lock completely useless.

“You’re going to be okay, Me,” he assures her, then removes his knife from one of the pouches on the front of his vest; using it to easily slice through the fabric of the seatbelt. Returning the weapon to its holder, he tends to extracting her from the vehicle; hands under her arms as he pulls her towards him. Gingerly sliding her body through the field of glass and debris and across the asphalt; laying her on ground and gently placing her head on the ‘pillow’.

Returning to the inside of the vehicle, he struggles to remove his cell phone from where it still sits clipped to the dash. Grunting and growing in pain and muttering profanities as his fingers slip and fumble on several attempts; finally tearing the device out of the holder and firing off an urgent text message to Nik before returning to Esme’s side; barely getting a chance to check the extent of her injuries before the next surge of trouble arrives; a black sedan squealing to a stop on the opposite side of the damaged SUV. Shielding her body with his own, he places himself on his knees between her and their immobile vehicle, trying to quiet and steady his breath as he waits for the first opportunity to strike. The sight of their attackers' feet finally allowing him to act; pushing himself up into a stand and immediately opening fire. Effectively dropping them where they stand with two bullets to the centre of their chests and a third and final to the throats.

Once more returning to Esme’s side, he’s able to take a minute to catch his breath; fighting through the pain as prepares to reload. Interrupted when Nik’s SUV comes careening to a stop on their side of the road; brother and sister bounding out of the car and exchanging fire with the remaining assailants. And when Yaz snags a flash-bang grenade from his vests and yells out the warning of ‘frag out!’ Tyler drops to his knees; gloved hands protectively covering Esme’s ears to prevent any damage. Finding himself momentarily deafened and disoriented; unaware of Nik and Yaz looming over him until the latter wraps both arms around one of his and helps him to his feet.

Nik reaches up to inspect the blood on his face, frowning at the various cuts and bruises, and the small shards of glass embedded in his skin. “How bad?”

“I’m fine. I’m not worried about me. I’m…”

“You don’t look fine. You’ve got a lot of blood on you and…”

“I said I’m fine. Fuck.” Shoving her hand away, he crouches down in front of Esme. Using an elbow to push Yaz backwards when he attempts to help. “I got her.”

“Let us give you a hand. Just let…”

“I said I got her!” He snarls, sliding one arm under the back of her knees and the other across her shoulders; ignoring the pain that shoots through him as he struggles to stand. And while gives a small whimper and her eyes flicker, they remain closed as he gathers her tight to his chest. “It’s alright, Me. You’re safe now. I got you.”

Nik leads the way to the waiting SUV, using her rifle to cover the buildings to the sides and in front, while Yaz brings up the rear; keeping eyes and ears open for any threats that may arrive. His sister tossing open the rear passenger door and then standing back as Tyler carefully lays Esme across the seat before climbing in. A forearm resting along her collarbone and a hand putting pressure on the gash in the top of her head as he pulls her into him. And it’s the slamming of the door that causes her to finally wake; coming to with a loud, startled gasp. Her eyes wide and terrified, and the initial disorientation causing her ‘fight or flight’ to kick in; squirming and flailing in an attempt to get away from whoever holds her ‘captive’.

“It’s okay…it’s okay…” Tyler tightens his hold on her ear, lips pressed against her ear. “...it’s just me, Esme. It's just me.”

“Millie?”

“Millie’s fine. She wasn’t with us, remember? We sent her with Alcott. Already at the airport?”

“She’s okay?”

“She’s safe and sound. Here…” Leaning forward, he takes an open bottle of water Nik offers from the front seat and holds it to her lips. “...not too fast. Just little sips.”

Esme complies, taking a series of small swigs from the bottle, yet gagging and coughing on the final one. “What about you? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. Just a little banged up. Nothing for you to worry about. I’m going to take a look at you, alright? Fix you up a bit.”

Accepting a roll of gauze and a package of cotton pads that Nik procures from the open med kit in her lap, he gently parts her hair; finally getting a good look at the large gash that runs several inches the middle of the top of her head to the crown. Using a handful of the cotton pads to absorb some of the blood, he hastily tosses them to the floor of the SUV before laying down a clean, thick layer and then carefully bandaging her head. Covering the pads and then wrapping around her forehead and down onto the sides of her face and under her jaw. His heart breaking with every wince and whimper.

“Can you tell me where else it hurts?”

“Everywhere. I feel like I can’t breathe. It’s too sore.”

“Let me check….” Tearing open the Velcro on her vest, he unzips her coat; sliding his fingertips down the neck of her sweater and gently poking and prodding.

“Broken?” Nik inquires. “The sternum?”

“I can’t tell. I don’t think so, though. Probably just bruised from the seat belt. Maybe a torn muscle.”

“It hurts, though.” Esme’s tears flow, creating voids in the dirt and blood that soil her face. “It hurts so bad.”

“Meds? Nik holds up a small vial of morphine.

“Half,” Tyler instructs. “I don’t wanna knock her out. Just take the edge off a bit.”

Nik does as told; filling the syringe halfway and then leaning over the seat to hand it to him.

“This is probably going to hurt a bit.” Tyler addresses Esme, attempting to stay calm and composed for Esme’s sake; a feat considering the fear and the worry that gnaws its way through his bones and nearly reaches his very soul. And when the jab of the needle through her clothes and into the left bicep causes her to flinch and cry out, he lays his free hand on her cheek and tilts her head back towards him; pressing a series of soft kisses on her cheeks and then one on her lips. Eyes briefly closing as he lays his brow against hers. “I’m sorry. I am so fucking sorry.”

“I’m cold.”

“Here…” Nik hurriedly shrugs out of her jacket, tossing it into the back seat. “...take mine.”

Tyler gives a nod of thanks, then tucks the garment around Esme’s shivering body. “It’s going to be, okay, Me. You’re safe now. No one can hurt you anymore. Those meds will hit you soon. Take the edge off. And once we get to the airport and on the plane, the medic will take care of you. Right now I just need you to try and relax, okay?”

“Millie..”

“I already told you; she’s fine, babe.”

“She’s my baby.”

“I know. And your baby is waiting for you. You’ll see her soon.”

“Promise?”

“I promise. Hey…hey…” Cupping her chin, he squeezes her cheeks between his thumb and forefinger. “...stay with me, alright? You just keep looking at me. Listening to my voice. No falling asleep on me.”

“I’m scared.”

“Don’t be scared. There’s nothing to be afraid of. You’re going to be just fine. You’re going to get all fixed and you’ll be back to normal in no time. Well, whatever normal is for you.”

She attempts a small laugh, then winces.

“I know everything hurts, but what I gave you will start kicking in any minute now. All I need you to do is try and breathe and just stay with me, okay? Can you do that?”

Nodding, she shakily reaches up and explores the various cuts on his face with gentle fingertips.

“Don’t you worry about me. I’ve had a lot worse.”

“That’s an understatement.”

“All that matters right now is you. And getting you to that plane and letting the medic look at you.”

“I’m sorry.”

“What are you sorry about? There’s nothing to apologize for. You didn’t do anything wrong. Just try and relax. Let the meds do their job.”

“I need to rest my eyes.”

“Esme…”

“Not sleep. Just rest them. That’s all.”

“Alright…”

Leaning down, he presses a kiss to her lips, then lays his palm on the top of her head; her eyes closing as his fingertips repeatedly skim across her brow. The fear is unlike anything he’s ever known; an immense heartache that comes with seeing the person you love battered and bruised and struggling to take a breath. It’s soul-crushing; bearing witness to the mixture of terror and pain that darkens their eyes and furrows their brow. And he suddenly realizes how it must have been for her on that bridge; cradling his head in her lap as he lingered on death’s doorstep. Making the decision to put her ass on the line to save his; sticking her fingers into the gunshot wound in his neck in an attempt to staunch the flow of blood.

Her own bloody hands now fearfully clutching at the front of his vest. “Tyler…”

“I’m right here, Me.” Bile burns his throat as he manages a reassuring smile. “I got you. I always will.”

******

He sits at the table in the middle of the jet's small dining area, still clad in his filthy boots, blood-stained utility pants, and a simple black t-shirt. Trays of painstakingly prepared and neatly arranged food and drinks pushed aside to make room for an open med kit; accompanied by various loose supplies, unopened bottles of morphine, and a small mirror. Using tweezers to remove shards of glass from various cuts on his neck and peroxide-drenched cotton balls to clean the wounds; occasionally hissing in discomfort, and wincing in pain.

Nik doesn’t speak as she steps through the curtain separating the area from the passenger cabin; opting to fill two mugs with coffee and then sitting both on the table. Sighing heavily as she drops into the seat across from him, she watches as he tends to his various injuries; both hands clasping her mug, fingernails repeatedly tapping against the porcelain.

“What happened?”

Tyler doesn’t look away from the mirror; his eyes narrowed as he plucks a shard of glass from his left trap muscle. “I don’t know. I honestly don’t fucking know.”

“The roads were blocked. No one could get in or out of the area. Everything was clear. What…?”

“I said I don’t know, Nik. It all went down so fast. They came out of nowhere. I didn’t see them coming, I didn’t hear them coming. One second they weren’t there, the next they were.”

“They just didn’t appear out of thin air.”

“What more do you want from me? You think I just sat back and let this happen? You think I WANTED something like this to go down? You think I liked seeing her like that?”

“I think maybe you might have been distracted. That the altercation with Winston threw you off. You might not have been in the right frame of mind; you were probably trying to comfort Esme and calm her down…”

“She didn’t need to be comforted. Or calmed down. She was fine. I was fine. My head was on straight. So you’re not going to blame me for this. And you’re definitely NOT going to blame her.”

“That’s not what I…”

“I don’t know how it happened. I don't know where those guys came from. I don’t know who they were tied to; Alessio, Winston, the High Table. I didn’t see it coming. There’s no way I could have. It happened THAT fast.”

“Your attention might have been on other things. I warned you; about not keeping focused. You promised me that you’d keep things separate: job Tyler and personal Tyler. You…”

“I never promised that. I told you I would try; do my best to shove the personal shit aside and just concentrate on the job.”

“So I’ll ask again. WHAT happened?”

“Nothing happened. I was in the zone. I was getting shit done. I got her out of there, didn’t I?”

“Barely.”

“We were a block and a half away. From the rendezvous point. I never let my guard down. Not once. I don’t fuck up. And I especially don’t fuck up when I’ve got so much to lose. Have you ever thought maybe Wick’s guys messed up? Or even yours? Where were they, Nik? The people who were supposed to be watching the perimeter?”

“I had already pulled them out. Once you said you were on your way to meet me…”

“Well, that sounds like a ‘you’ problem. That YOU made the wrong call. Why’d you call them off so soon? Why didn’t you wait until Esme and I got to you? Stay on the safe side?”

“Because you were less than three blocks away. And I trusted you to get things done. You had a direct route. To where Yaz and I were. I didn’t think…”

“You didn’t think. That’s exactly it. If anyone fucked up, it was you. So about getting off my ass and putting the blame where it belongs.”

She opens her mouth to respond, but quickly decides against it; noticing the tightness in his jaw and the darkness in his eyes. Instead, she nurses her coffee and watches as he returns to removing glass from his skin and cleaning wounds; using gauze and ‘second skin’ to patch the much larger ones, and even passing a line of stitches through a cut that travels five inches on his left forearm. It’s then that she moves, pushing her chair away from the table and standing; plucking the antiseptic and gauze from his hand as he turns his attention to a cut behind his right ear.

“Don’t…” He jerks his head away when she lays one hand on the nape of his neck and the other attempts to to clean the wound. “Just…don’t.”

“I’m only trying to help. I can see it a lot better. Just let me…”

“I said don’t!” Irritably snatching the gauze from her, he folds it over his ear and shoves his chair away from the table; reaching for his coffee cup with his other hand and sipping at it as he paces the narrow, galley-style kitchen. Repeatedly glancing towards the curtain that separates them from the small area that holds the bathroom and a fold-out cot)

Nik tidies up the medical supplies; tossing used bandages and cotton pads, and empty bottles of saline and antiseptic into the trash. “You need to calm down.”

“I AM calm.”

She stares at him pointedly.

“I’m not in the mood for your bullshit, Nik. For ANYONE’S. Not after what I just went through. Not when I haven’t even wiped the blood…HER blood…off me yet.”

“You heard what the medic said. There’s no serious injuries. Nothing life-threatening. She’ll need some time to relax and recuperate, but she’ll be fine. She…”

“No, what he said was that he thinks she’s going to be fine. He THINKS there’s nothing life-threatening.”

“She’s stable. Coherent. Her vitals are fine.”

“But she should still see a doctor. There should be a medical team waiting for us. So we can get a second opinion. THAT’S what he said.”

“And the doctor will be there waiting. I’ve already made the call. As soon as we land and get to my place…”

“Your place? That wasn’t part of the plan. Why…?”

“It’s for your safety. Yours, Esme’s, Millie’s. We don’t know how far Alessio’s reach extends. But if we err on the side of caution, common sense says that his family would have contacts all over the world.”

“And if it was Winston’s doing, we already know he has people all over the fucking globe.”

Nik nods. “The High Table may be planning on dealing with him, but that doesn’t mean he already hasn’t reached out to contacts in Australia. I just don’t want you taking Esme and Millie there and running into trouble. I know you think you can handle it…”

“I CAN handle it.”

“...but I’d rather just eliminate any possible threat before they manage to cause even the slightest of damage. I’ve sent a team to Broome; they’ll separate into a couple of teams and search the house and keep an eye on the neighbourhood. And Alcott and Wick will fly out in the morning; after they’ve gotten some rest. They’ll stay nearby for a couple of weeks; blend in with the locals, keep an eye on the three of you.”

“You really think those two have a chance of fitting in with the locals? Have you looked at them? They look as far from local as you can get.”

“They’ll just be there to make sure nothing goes wrong. Once we eliminate the problems on this side of the globe and we’re certain there’s none where you are, then it’s done.”

“And I’m done.”

“If that’s what you want.”

“It is.”

“I don’t want you rushing the decision. I don’t want you having any regrets; throwing it all away and then six months, or a year, or maybe even two, down the road contacting me and wanting back in.”

“I have a family now, Nik. I’m a dad again. I’m going to be a husband. I’m not making the same mistakes I did with Mia; putting my work ahead of my wife and kid and being out of the house more than I’m in it. I’m not that guy anymore.”

“In a way, you’ll always be that guy. Not someone who intentionally abandons their family or doesn’t know what his priorities are, but one who can’t stay still for too long. You’ve been a soldier three-quarters of your life; in one way or another. You can’t tell me you’d be happy giving this up for good. That you wouldn’t miss the adrenaline and the excitement and…”

“I don’t know what part of ‘I’m done’ you don’t understand, but you need to back off. I can’t do this anymore. This life. I’m not going any younger Nik, and my body was never the same after Dhaka. It took me almost two years to bounce back from that. To even reach eighty percent of who I used to be. I don’t have much to give. Not when it comes to the job. And what health and sanity I DO still have? I’d rather use it up doing something normal. Spending time with my wife and my daughter. Having more kids. Growing old.”

“Tyler…”

“I don’t want to die hundreds…thousands…of miles from home. Alone. In some shit hole you can’t bring my body back from. I can’t do that to Esme. I just can’t. She deserves better than that. So much better.”

“So you’re doing this for her.”

“I’m doing this for US. Because that’s going to be my wife, Nik. And she’s the mother of my daughter and every other kid that’s going to come after her. I love Esme. I’ve always loved her. Even when you were lying to me and keeping her away from me.”

“That’s not what I was doing. I…”

“For once, why don’t you just be completely honest with me? Tell me the truth. You weren’t just keeping Esme’s deep, dark secret. Helping her protect me. There’s more to it than that. I’m not a stupid man, Nik. So don’t treat me like I am.”

“I’ve never…”

“Just tell me the truth. Tell me ALL the reasons you lied to me. You had every chance in the world in the last five years to let me know where she was. To at least let me tell she was alive. Did she REALLY ask you to keep her secret for THAT long?”

“She did.”

“I don’t think that’s true. I think you put some bullshit into her head. Convinced her that it was for the best if she never contacted me. Let me know about Millie.”

“Why would I…?”

“Why? Because you knew I’d drop everything to be with her. That I’d find out where she was and bring her home and make a life with her. And doing that meant cutting ties with the job. With YOU.”

“Tyler…”

“I’m a commodity to you. You make money off of me. Off the things I can do. And that’s how you see me. You don’t see me as a human being. All you see when you look at me is dollar signs. That’s it. You see me as some kind of machine. Only around to do your dirty work.”

“You know that’s not true. You…”

“If I’m not around, you’re not bringing in that big money. Those huge contracts. That’s what you hate; the idea of losing all of that. Because you know that there’s no one out there as good as me.”

“You’re my friend. My FAMILY. You…”

“You fucking abandoned me, Nik. After Esme left, you left me to rot. You didn’t give a shit what I was going through. You pretended you did. You took my phone calls, and talked me down off a couple of ledges, and showed up at my place a few times. But what did you ACTUALLY do for me?”

“I kept you clean. Sober. I…”

“You kept me away from Esme. You kept me away from my kid. You didn’t even tell me I had one. You lied to me the entire fucking time. You knew how bad off I was, and you knew how to fix it, and you didn’t fucking bother. That’s not how you treat a friend. And it’s definitely not how you treat family.”

“She asked me to keep it a secret. She…”

“Tell me the truth. Enough of the bullshit. You owe it to me. I know this wasn’t all her. I know Esme’s heart. And I know, regardless of what she says, it wasn’t all her idea.”

“I don’t know what you want me to say. I don’t…”

“You never tried to change her mind, did you. You never told her that she should contact me. Tell me she’s okay. And you definitely didn’t try to convince her to tell me about Millie. Because you knew I’d find her. You knew that I’d give up everything to get her back. And you weren’t going to let that happen. You weren’t going to risk it. You wanted to keep me under your thumb. You took advantage of me; when I offered to help you out if you ever really needed it. THAT’S why you didn’t tell me where Esme was. Or about Millie. Because you knew that would all be off the table. Which meant a lot of money would disappear.”

“I never…”

“I’m going to ask her, Nik. As soon as she’s up to it. I’m going to ask her, and she’s going to tell me the truth. Wouldn’t you rather tell it first? Don’t you think it would be better if you did?”

“I think you’re stressed. Tired. Hurting. I think…”

“Tyler?” Millie’s voice interrupts them, accompanied by the swaying and bouncing of the curtain as she tugs on it. “Can I come in?”

Glaring at Nik, he shakes his head in a mixture of disgust and disappointment and then moves to the table. Calling out to Millie as he begins clearing away the last of the medical supplies and the dirty, blood-stained gauze pads and cotton balls. “Yeah, come on in.”

Slipping around the edge of the curtain, the four-year-old scurries to him, wrapping both arms around his thigh and resting her head against him. He runs a hand over and down her hair, then drops to a knee in front of her, cradling her face in his palms and pressing a kiss to her forehead. Offering up a warm, comforting smile, he uses two fingertips to clear hair out of her eyes and away from her cheek, then lays his hands on her shoulders and lightly squeezes.

“You alright?”

Millie shakes her head.

“Talk to me.”

“I’m sad.”

“Because of mumma.”

She nods.

“There’s nothing for you to be sad about. You heard that the medic said; your mum’s going to be just fine. She’s just pretty banged up right now and needs some medicine and some rest to make her feel better.”

“But she’s gonna be okay, right?”

“Of course she is. Your mum’s tough for a little thing. Nothing can keep her down for too long. She just needs to take it easy for a bit. So her body can heal. But she’ll be back to normal in no time.”

“You promise?”

“I promise.”

“Cross your heart, hope to die, stick a needle in your eye?”

“All of those. I’ll even pinkie promise you.”

“Pinkie promises are the king of promises. The most serious ones. You can’t break those EVER.”

“I’m not planning on breaking it. So pinkie promise?” Tyler offers one of his baby fingers. “When I tell you that mumma is going to be as good as new?”

Nodding enthusiastically, Milie curls her finger around his; giggling when he tightly squeezes and then leans in to press a kiss to her forehead. “I’m still gonna be sad, though. I miss her.”

“She’s not far away at all; just right in the next room.” He nods in the direction of the closed door at the opposite end of the dining area. “Sleeping. Doctor’s orders.”

“But I miss seeing her and talking to her and playing with her. And I miss the snuggles.”

“I’m sure she misses all that too. Just like I’m sure that when she’s up to it, she will give you all the snuggles in the world.”

“And I’m hungry. My tummy’s complaining.”

“Well, Auntie Nik made sure that there was tons of food for everyone. All kinds of different things. You wanna go over and take a look? You can tell me what you like, and I can make up a plate for you. Sound like a good idea?”

“And then maybe I can go and see momma? I won’t wake her up. I just wanna see her. Maybe give her a kiss. That’s all.”

“I’ll tell you what, as soon as your mom wakes up from her nap, I’ll take you back to see her. But you’re going to have to be careful with her, okay? Because she’s got a lot of bumps and bruises and cuts and they’re really sore. And we don’t want to make them worse, do we.”

“I just want to see her. With my own two eyes. And kiss her cheeks.”

“Maybe you can even show her all those pictures you’ve been working on. The ones you were making to cheer her up.”

“The ones you said we could get frames for and hang up in the house?”

“Those exact ones. I bet she’d love to see them. They’ll cheer her up for sure. Now come on…”

His knees crack as he stands and he fights back a wince as pain rushes through his body; his muscles impossibly stiff, the wounds fresh and gaping. And Millie’s hand immediately reaches for his; all her fingers closing around one of his as he leads her toward the table and the waiting trays of food and drinks.

Nik watches them together. Noticing the adoring way in which Millie gazes up at him, the striking resemblances in their appearance, and the patience in Tyler’s voice. The tone in which he addresses her is quiet and calm; accompanied by a softness to his features and a sparkle in his eyes whenever he looks down at her. It’s such a juxtaposition; a remarkable difference compared to the torn, tattered, dirty clothes and the various cuts, bumps, bruises, and the blood that stains his hands and parts of his face. Yet Millie appears unbothered by his appearance; standing on her tiptoes as she enthusiastically picks out her favourite foods and offers her unfiltered opinions on those she hates. Announcing that while pancakes are the most delicious in the world, French Toast tastes like ‘total ass’. And after he gets her settled with her plate and a drink and grabs food for himself, she’s eager to be even closer to him; quick to slide her meal across the table and climbing into his lap the moment he sits down.

Nik stays silent and nurses a second cup of coffee as she watches father and daughter together; Millie content on Tyler’s lap, feeling safe and secure and returning -somewhat- to her chatty and bubbly self. Asking seemingly endless questions about her new home in Australia; how far they are from the beach, can they get a swing set for the backyard, a garden to plant veggies in? When will she start school, does he think the other kids will like her? And she enthuses about making new friends; about having playdates and sleepovers and maybe taking dance lessons and gymnastics. And he fields every query with the utmost patience; never babying her, but always offering assurances that boost her confidence and her trust in him.

It’s a side to Tyler that Nik has never seen before; a gentleness that she’s never witnessed, a certain level of vulnerability on display that she never knew he even possessed. Even a glow to his face and twinkle to his eyes that he’s never had before. And she holds off on speaking; until the interaction stops and Millie settles herself back against his chest with a bottle of water and Bluey videos on his cell phone.

“What we were talking about before…”

“Don’t,” Tyler warns. “Don’t go there, Nik. Not in front of her.”

“I just…”

“I said NOT in front of her. She doesn’t need to hear this. I don’t even need to hear it.”

Millie tilts her head back. “I don’t need to hear what?”

“Adult stuff.”

“I hear adult stuff all the time.”

“Well, you don’t need to hear this.”

“Says who?”

“Says me. I’m the boss now.”

“Mommy’s the boss.”

“Not now. I’m here to take over. It’s what dads do.”

“Mommy is STILL the boss. My boss, your boss….”

“My boss, huh? Is that what she says? That she’s my boss?”

“She doesn’t need to say it. You know she is.”

“I wear the pants in this family.”

“Nope. Mom does. She’ll let you pretend you do, but…”

“You’re a real smart ass, you know that? I wonder who you get that from?”

“Definitely from you.”

“You think so, do ya?” Laying a hand over her face, he lightly and playfully jostles her head from side to side. Then pinches her cheeks between them and forefinger, tilting her face upwards and pressing a kiss to her puckered lips. “Did you have enough to eat?” He gently pats her stomach. “You feeling good?”

“I’m full! My tummy feels super fat!”

“Mine does, too.”

“We can be chubby together!”

“Sounds like a good plan. Think mumma will still love us? When we’re chubby?”

“Mumma will love us no matter what!” Yawning noisily, she wriggles around in his lap; until her legs are on either side of his waist and her stomach is flat against him. Her one arm curling around his neck as a thumb wedges itself firmly in her mouth.

The latter he doesn’t discourage; remembering Esme’s ‘warning’ that it’s a coping mechanism when Millie is anxious or stressed. Instead, he rests his chin on top of her head, holding her tightly against him with a hand on the nape of her neck. The fingers of the other draw slowly, smooth patterns on her back until he feels her completely relax against him; her lashes tickling his skin when her eyes flutter closed and her arm slipping from around his neck and falling loosely to her sides. And it’s so bittersweet; his heart feeling both full and grateful for the trust and love she has in him, but aching for the years he’d missed and the trauma she’d been through.

“I’m doing the right thing, Nik. By her. She’s gone long enough without her dad, don’t you think?”

She nods.

“None of this had to happen. I didn’t have to be kept out of her life. Had I known about her, I could have saved her…and her mother…from all of this. And so could have you. Deep down you know that, yeah? That if you’d only just told me…”

“It was never my intention. For any of this to happen.”

“And you not only kept Millie from me, you dragged her mum back into this life. She never really wanted this. She wanted to be AWAY from it. It was always the plan; buy a house, get married, have kids, never think of this life again. And now look. Look at what’s happened. What you’ve done.”

“If we could sit down and talk about things without outside influence and…”

“No more talking. There’s nothing left to say. Not about this anyway.” Wrapping Millie tightly in his embrace, he pushes the chair away from the table and stands. Two long strides taking to him the curtains that separate them from the passenger cabin.

“Tyler…”

“I’m done, Nik. Not just with this conversation, but with this life. I can’t do it anymore. Millie needs me. So does her mum. And to be honest, I need them just as much. If not more.”

“You don’t have to walk away entirely. You don’t…”

“Once everything is settled and you’ve taken care of shit in New York, that’s it. You gotta cut me loose. Lose my number. Pretend you never even knew me if you have to. It’s just time. For me to move on. Try my hand at normal.”

“Do you really think you’ll be happy with that? With that kind of life?”

“I walked away before. Started making a life like that. Only it was taken from me. And KEPT from me. I’m not going through that again. I lost Esme once. There’s not gonna be a second time.”

*****

“Momma!”

“Easy…easy…” Three hours later, Tyler snags Millie by the back of her shirt before she can manage to pounce onto the cot. Making a game of tossing her high in the air; effortlessly catching her before lowering her down towards her mother.

“Amelia…” Her tearful mother reaches out for her; arms and hands trembling from a mixture of the pain meds lingering in her system and the shock that her injured body is still experiencing. Managing to squeeze her daughter as tight as both will allow, she showers Millie’s cheeks, forehead, and lips with kisses.

The four-year-old struggles to hold back her tears, her chin and lower lip wobbling as her tiny hands clasp her mother’s cheeks. Careful of the various bruises and cuts. “You scared me, momma! I was so worried about you!”

“I didn’t mean to frighten you. That’s the last thing I would ever want. Are you okay?”

Millie nods. “I’m fine. No bad guys came after us. Why did they hurt you? And Tyler? Why…?”

“Because they think I deserve to be hurt. Because I told on Alessio’s family.”

“‘Cause they’re bad people?”

“Very bad. And I had to tell on them. So they couldn’t hurt anyone else.”

“If they’re bad people, they deserve to be in trouble.”

“They certainly do. Have you been a good girl? YOU haven’t been any trouble, have you?”

“I’ve been really good, I promise. I played on Tyler’s phone, and watched some Bluey, and drew some pictures, and then had a really big lunch!”

“And took a nap,” Tyler adds. “We both did.”

“It was a REALLY good nap,” Millie says. “I had a dream about going to the beach! But when I woke up, I remembered that I need a new bathing suit. Remember? How my one from this summer is too small now?”

“We’ll get you a new bathing suit. We’ll get you a whole bunch, even. One for every day of the week. Because something tells me we’re going to spend A LOT of time at the beach.”

“Tyler said he’d teach me how to surf! He said we could be surfing buddies. He also said you always tried to learn, but you were never any good at it.”

“Oh really…” Esme smirks up at him. “...he said that, did he?”

“I also told her that what you lacked in skill and talent, you made up for in enthusiasm.” Setting Millie down on the edge of the cot, he once more gently reminds her to be careful of her mother’s bruised and battered body.

“Are you feeling any better, momma?” The little one picks up one of her mother’s hands in both of her own. “I don’t want you to be hurt. It makes my heart super sad.”

“That’s because you have such a good one. A HUGE one. Just like your daddy. I think you get all your really good stuff from him.”

A grin tugs at the corners of Tyler’s mouth. “I think your mumma totally underestimates herself.”

“Is the medicine making you better? Did the doctor say you’d be okay soon?”

“He said it’s going to take a little bit,” Esme explains. “For my body to heal up and get back to where it was before. But the medicine DOES help; it makes the ouchies not hurt so much. You don’t need to worry about me, okay? I’m going to be fine. Nothing that a lot of rest won’t fix.”

“Tyler and I can take care of you. For as long as it takes. We can bring you breakfast and lunch and supper in bed, we can sit and watch TV with you, we can read to you. And cuddle and take naps!”

“All the things that will heal me up in no time.”

“Speaking of helping your mumma heal…” Tyler smoothes a hand over Millie’s hair. “...why don’t you go and finish that picture you're working on and then bring everything here. Show her what you made. I’m sure that’ll cheer her up.”

“I would love to see your pictures. All of them.”

Millie slides off the cot and rushes for the curtain, then hurries back to peck her mom on the lips.

Esme waits; giving her daughter a chance to slip out of the room and be out of earshot. “Has she been alright?”

“She’s had a couple of rough moments,” Tyler admits, dropping to a knee at her bedside. “It was hard on her; seeing you unconscious and all banged up. Nik tried to get to her before she managed to see much, but…”

“She’s tough. Like you.”

“Naw, I think she gets that toughness from her mum.”

“She’s doing okay, considering?”

“Like I said, we had some rough patches, but she got through them. She’s just worried about her mumma.”

“Something tells me you are too.”

“Am I that predictable?”

“You’re not the only one that can be a worry wart.” Reaching up to clear the longer strands of hair off his forehead, she frowns as her fingertips search the various wounds and abrasions adorning his skin. “Are YOU okay?”

“Just some cuts and bruises. Nothing serious. I’ve had worse.”

“WAY worse. Got a lot of blood on you, though.”

“Haven’t gotten the chance to get cleaned up yet.” Capturing her hand in his, he pushes his fingers through hers and places a kiss at the base of her wrist. “And besides, most of it isn’t even mine.”

“Mine?”

He nods, then leans in to press a kiss to her brow.

“Did you talk to the medic? What did he say?”

“He’s not a hundred percent sure. When it comes to your injuries.”

“But…”

“You’ve got a few broken ribs, probably a bruised kidney and liver And the seat belt fucked up your chest; it’s why you were having such a hard time breathing. He doesn’t think anything’s broken, but it’s going to hurt like hell for a while. Probably a torn muscle. Or two.”

“What about my head?”

“Cut it open pretty good. Needed seventeen stitches. And you’ve got a pretty bad concussion. We’ll have to keep an eye on you; just in case there’s something worse going on in that pretty little head of yours. How ARE you feeling? A little better? You got a lot of meds in you.”

“I feel like I’ve been hit by a truck. Oh, wait…” She manages a small, pained laugh. “...that’s because I was.”

“I am so sorry, Me. I am so fucking sorry.”

“For what? None of this is your fault. You didn’t…”

“I got distracted. Let my guard down. If I’d just kept my head in the game…”

“Tyler…” She tightly squeezes his hand. “...you didn’t do anything wrong.”

“I was supposed to protect you. Get you out there. In one piece.”

“Last time I checked, I hadn’t lost any pieces.”

“You weren’t supposed to get hurt. I was supposed to get you to the airport and onto the plane…”

“And you DID. I’m here, aren’t I?”

“It came way too close to you NOT being here.”

“But I AM. You got me here. Admittedly a little worse for wear, but…” She reaches up to affectionately tousle his hair, wincing as the IV needle pinches her skin.. “...I’m breathing, aren’t I?”

“Thankfully.”

“I knew you would do this. Beat yourself up. Blame yourself. You did the same thing after Dhaka. Spent nearly a whole two months after you were released from the hospital obsessing over it; second guessing every decision you made. Dhaka wasn’t your fault. In the same way this wasn’t.”

“I just hate it. Every fucking second. Seeing you this. I’m used to being where you are. Not on this side of things.”

“It’s better that it was me this happened to. If it had been you? I wouldn’t have been able to get you out of there. I wouldn’t have been able to fight off all those threats. We never would have made it here. We never would have seen Millie again. She wouldn’t have her mom or her dad.”

“If you’re trying to make me feel better about all of this…”

“I just want you to see how I look at things. How I look at YOU. We’re only alive because the shoe WAS on the other foot. Because you had to be the one to get me out of there. Get us BOTH out of there. It would have been a disaster if had been any other way. And you know that.”

He nods slowly as he considers her words, then leans in to kiss her. The long, soft press of closed mouth upon closed mouth; his eyes closing as he briefly rests his forehead against hers. And his free hand comes to rest on the top of her head when he pulls away; fingers pushing through her hair, the tips gently massaging her scalp. “We’re going to stay at Nik’s for a few days. There’ll be a doctor meeting us there; he’ll check you out, make sure the medic didn’t miss anything serious. She’ll keep him on call. In case anything goes wrong and you need more care.”

“I hope THAT doesn’t happen.”

“And she’s going to send some people to Broome. Make sure there’s no trouble waiting for us. The last thing I want is to bring you and Millie there and something bad happening.”

“If you think that staying away for a few days is for the best…”

“I do. I don’t want to take any chances. Not with you and Millie. Especially not with her. It’ll give us some peace of mind; knowing that everything’s been checked out and cleared. You’re alright with that?”

“I trust you. To make the right decision for us.”

“I’m not sure you should. Considering the mess you’re in right now…”

“I’m alive because you protected me. All those times you’ve told me that you’d do anything for me? Stop at nothing to keep me safe? I’ve never doubted it. Not once.”

“I can’t wait until this is over. Until it’s all behind us.”

“And then that’s it? It’s done? YOU’RE done?”

“Yeah…” Giving her a reassuring smile, he pecks the tip of her nose. “...I’m done.”

“It’s going to be weird. Not being part of this world at all.”

“Weird in a good way, I hope.”

“Now explain this to me again,” Alcott implores from his middle seat at the bar, nursing the remains of his drink. “Like I’m a three-year-old. Because the information is just not getting through. You’re not telling her WHY?”

Sighing, Tyler takes a sip of water. “It’s not that we’re NEVER going to tell her. It’s just that we’re waiting.”

“Waiting for what? Hell to freeze over? Pigs to fly? Just what are you waiting for?”

“For the right time.”

“And just what constitutes the ‘right time’? The child’s existed for nearly five years. She’s been asking about her father for almost a full two of those. If you ask me, there’s no time like the present. She already admitted to loving you. What more do you need?”

“It doesn’t matter if she already loves me or not. Esme and I agreed; that we'd hold off on saying anything.”

“But why? If the little one is already this attached to you and you…by my brief albeit brilliant observation… are already attached to her…”

“She’s been through enough. I mean, it’s been a hell of a four days for US and we’re grown-ass adults. She’s not even five. A baby still.”

“Baby or not, she’s resilient as hell and stronger than either of you are giving her credit for. You don’t think it would be a welcome surprise? In the midst of all the bullshit? Don’t you think it wouldn’t give her something to smile about? To learn you’re her dad?”

“It doesn’t matter what I think.”

“It matters a hell of a lot. It’s your damn swimmers that helped make the child. You’ve got more of a say in this than you realize. Don’t be a pussy, Rake. I know you love the woman, but stand up for yourself. Tell her to shit or get off the pot.”

Smirking, Tyler sips at his water. “You saying something bad about Esme? Of all people?

“I’m not saying anything bad about her. I’m simply saying she’s being foolish. That this is all just a bunch of horseshit. There’s no reason to keep it from her. It’s not like it’s horrible news. For either of you.”

“You gonna say all that to Esme’s face? Tell her she’s making a mistake? Being foolish?”

“No. And you’re not going to tell her I said it, either. I’d prefer to keep my balls exactly where they are, thank you very much. And you…” He nudges Wick with his elbow. “...does any of this make sense to you?”

In response, Wick bobs his head from side to side, then shrugs his shoulders.

“What the hell is that…” Alcott mimics the gesture. “... supposed to mean?”

“It means I don’t have a horse in this race. I’m just here to listen. To support. Not throw my two cents in.”

“How very diplomatic of you. I hope you’re not going to be like this when we get out onto the street. All passive and shit. I can barely carry my own weight most days, I don’t need to be carrying yours as well.”

“Job me and ‘real life me’ are two totally different people.”

“You must have an opinion. One way or another. Does it make sense to you, or is it just the stupidest damn thing you’ve ever heard of?”

“My opinion means nothing. I’m not taking sides in this. I’m not a father. I don’t have kids.”

“What does that matter?”

“It matters a lot. It means I don’t have a leg to stand on when it comes to telling other people what to do with their children.”

“I don’t have any either…”

“That you know of,” Tyler mutters.

“...but I know when something is purely idiotic. And this is about as idiotic as it gets. Tell us. Come on. How do you feel about all this? What do you THINK about it?”

“I think…” Wick downs his bourbon and then waves the empty glass at the bartender. “...I need another drink.”

“You alright, mate? Do you need to talk about it? Whatever you’ve got going on? ‘Cause there’s a couch over there…” Alcott nods in the direction of the lounge. “...and you can lie on it and I’ll sit next to you and you can talk to me like I’m a therapist. Gonna cost you, though. One sixty-five an hour.”

“And would that be in US dollars or pounds?”

Sighing in exasperation, Alcott turns back to Tyler. “You realize this is a stupid idea, yeah? Keeping it from her? That little girl is smarter than any of you are giving her credit for. And she’s been wanting a dad in her life since she’s practically been old enough to talk. I know you think you’re protecting her, but…”

“That’s exactly what we’re trying to do. Protect her. She’s been through enough. More than any kid should have to go through. So we’re just giving her a little bit of a break and…”

“Hearing that you’re her father IS the break. That bit of good news in the midst of all the bullshit. Don’t you think it’ll lift her spirits? Especially after what happened this morning? That incident scared her to bits; she needs some kind of assurance that her entire world isn’t going straight to hell. That she’s safe and secure and no one else is going to hurt her.”

“And I can give her all of that. I can keep her safe. I can stop anyone from getting to her. She doesn’t need to know I’m her dad for all of that to happen.”

Wick speaks up. “If I may be so bold…”

“Oh, now you have something to say,” Alcott chides. “After you get a fourth one into ya. Need the booze to loosen your lips and tongue, do you mate?”

Tyler nods, signifying for him to go ahead.

“I can’t believe I’m going to say anything because I’m trying not to put myself right in the middle of your personal life. But…”

Tyler scowls. “Mate, you’ve been in it for years. Since you kept Esme’s whereabouts a secret. And then didn’t bother telling me about my kid. You have been knee-deep in my personal life for a while.”

“I did what was asked of me,” Wick defends himself. “Esme’s my friend. She needed my help. I gave it to her. And I wasn’t going to betray her confidence. For anyone. And I’m sorry; if that puts me on your shit list permanently. But I did what I had to do.”

“It wasn’t up to any of us to tell you where she was or that you had a kid,” Alcott adds. “None of that was ours to tell. She asked for our help, we gave it. It wasn’t anything personal against you. Although I still think she could have done a hell of a lot better than a two brain cell having, knuckle-dragging, nappy-headed bastard from Queensland.”

“I think it would do Millie a world of good to hear that you’re her dad,” Wick continues. “She needs something to hold onto, some kind of bright spot in all of this. She’s a little kid, and little kids need to know that everything is going to be okay. Hell, even us adults need to know that from time to time. She’s been asking about her dad for a while; who he is, where he is, why hasn’t she met him? And she doesn’t just get on her mom about it. She’s asked me. More than once.”

“She’s asked me several times,” Alcott admits. “She even once asked if I was her dad. I said to look at me and look at herself in the mirror. That alone should tell her I’m not the one that put the bun in her mother’s oven.”

“I just think that this is something that could undo some of the damage done this morning,” Wick says. “We all see how much she adores you. And vice versa. If she’s already head over heels and doesn’t know, imagine how she’ll be when she finds out. And I just can’t help but believe it’s better if you do it sooner than later.”

“Listen to him,” Alcott addresses Tyler. “That’s a man that knows what he’s talking about.”

“Ten minutes ago, you were worried he was going to get you killed out on the street. Now you’re kissing his ass?”

“We’re on the same page. Both of us feel it’s best for Millie if…”

“What do you either of you know what’s best for Millie? For MY daughter? She doesn’t belong to either of you.”

“Maybe not, but we’ve known her longer,” Alcott points out. “As much as I’m sure that hurts to hear.”

“Not my most favourite thing to think about, no.”

“The truth is, we’ve been in her life from the start,” Wick says. “When she was still inside her mother’s belly. Both of us have changed her diapers, fed her bottles, read her bedtime stories, tucked her in…”

“She’s puked on me more times than I care to remember,” Alcott adds. “And believe me, her mother will eventually get my cleaning bill.”

“Why would you think I want to hear this? You’re not making things any better, mate. I’m already pissed off enough. Bringing things like THAT up? Are you trying to get her ass handed to you or…”

“No one is trying to rub salt in the wound,” Alcott assures him. “But the fact of the matter is that we do know Millie better than you do. For now, anyway. I mean, I let her call me Uncle Duey, for fuck sake.”

Wick swigs his bourbon. “I’m Uncle John-John. Killer by night, Uncle John-John by day. My, how the mighty have fallen.”

“She’s a damn good kid,” Alcott continues. “Her mother has done an amazing job with her. And you should consider yourself lucky; you didn’t manage to knock up someone who would have gotten rid of your spawn the second they found out about it. This isn’t exactly the life we strive to bring kids into, is it? Give them dads who kill people for money?”

Tyler frowns; brow furrowed as he drums his fingertips against his glass. “That’s not all we do.”

“Aww mate…” Alcott chuckles and slaps a hand down onto his shoulder. “...don’t sugar coat it. Don’t romanticize it. That’s EXACTLY what we do. And one day, that little girl is going to grow up and she’s going to find out what her daddy really does for a living and…”

“What I DID for a living,” Tyler corrects him. “Past tense. By the time she’s old enough to understand it, I’ll have been out of the game for a few years.”

Alcott waves down the bartender. “The fact of the matter is that she WILL find out. Right now, you’re just the cool friend of her mother’s who can kick ass and take names. That’s how she sees it; you’re big and you’re strong and you’re here to keep her safe from the bad guys. But once she’s older…”

“I just think it’s better if she knows about you being about her dad before THAT happens,” Wick pipes up. “That’s my opinion. Take it with a grain of salt. But…”

“You must want her to know,” Alcott says. “That you’re her father. How could you NOT want her to know?”

“Of course I want her to know. You think I like this fucking game we’re playing with her? You think it doesn’t burn my ass every time she calls me by my first name? Or ‘this is my mum’s boyfriend. Do you really think it doesn’t bother me?”

“I think you’ve got a lot of anger stored up,” Wick says. “And I think the more you lie to Millie, the worse that anger is going to get and then you’re going to snap one day and say some shit you’ll regret. And then both her and her mother will be out of there.”

Grinning, Alcott nudges Wick with his elbow. “Now who’s the therapist?”

“I have my moments.”

Alcott addresses Tyler once more. “Isn’t five years enough? Wasn’t that enough time apart? Do you really want to let this shit fester and a year or two down the road, let it completely ruin things? For good?”

“That’s the last thing I want.”

“If Millie is anything like her mother…” The Brit tosses a wad of cash down on the bar when one of the tenders sets down a tray of shots. “...which we already know she is, she is going to be the type to hold one hell of a grudge when she’s older. So you can imagine what that’ll be like? If you keep up this bullshit? The more time that drags on, the more she’s going to resent both of you for not telling her the truth sooner. And the next thing you know, you gotta teenager who can’t stand being in the same room as you and would sooner spit in your face than look at you.”

Wick side-eyes him, then helps himself to a shot. “Are you SURE you don’t have kids?

“I don’t have kids. But I do have brothers and sisters. And I know how lies…even told with the best of intentions…can tear a family apart. Why would he want that to happen when he just got his family together?”

“HE is sitting right beside you,” Tyler reminds him. “HE can hear you.”

“Mate, in the long run, it’s your life. And from what I understand, that life has been quite shit the past few years. Now, you’ve managed to get her back; the woman that you love more than anything in this world. The person you’d gladly give up your own life for. Do you really want to hold onto this shit you’ve got bottled up and risk losing her? AGAIN?”

“It wasn’t my fault. I wasn’t the reason Esme left.”

“You were and you weren’t. You didn’t do anything wrong. We all know that. But she did leave BECAUSE of you. To protect you. And I’m not going to judge that decision and we’re not going to debate whether she was right or wrong. And I’m certainly not going to pretend I understand anything about the situation she was put in…”

“But…”

“Enough lies have been told. Enough secrets have been kept. I think it’s high time that all of that shit stops. For you, for her, for Millie. For all of you as a family. You’re that little girl’s father. Whether you’re ready to be it or not.”

“I was ready to be ‘it’ the second I saw her and knew she was mine.”

“Then do your first good thing as a dad, and don’t lie to her. No more than you already have. She’s smart and she’s resilient and doesn’t have a hateful bone in her body. Not yet. But the older she gets…”

“What we’re trying to say is that you’re going to just fuck things up more,” Wick says. “Or at least that’s what I’M trying to say. I don’t know what the fuck he’s talking about half the time.”

“I was ready to tell Millie the first day. That I was her dad. But it’s not my decision to make. It’s not…”

“Not alone, it isn’t,” Alcott downs his shot and the winces at the immediate burn. “But it’s half yours. Now I know it’s been a while since I’ve indulged in any extracurricular activities of the sort, but I’m pretty sure it takes two people to make a baby. Unless times and technology have changed since the last time I…”

Wick frowns. “Jesus, how long has it been?”

“Way too long, mate. Way too damn long.”

“But aren’t you…you know…with his ex-wife?”

“On and off. And without giving too much away and completely disrespecting her, I’m sure the big-headed, big-eared Australian and I can agree on the fact that she isn’t the most…what’s the word… affectionate…of people.”

“It’s like fucking a couch,” Tyler grumbles as he slides off his bar stool, then pulls his wallet out of the back pocket of his jeans. “Three or four times every six months.”

Alcott smirks. “Now THAT’S not nice. It’s true, but it’s NOT nice. At all.”

Wick nods in the Australian’s direction. “Where are you going?”

Tyler tosses a handful of bills down onto the top of the bar. “I’m not going to name names, but unlike certain individuals, I have a woman to get back to.”

“That’s right,” Alcott scoffs. “Just rub it in, you prick.”

“I’ll be rubbing it in while you’re rubbing it out.”

“You know, it’s moments like these where I don’t like you very much. Are you the one still holding a grudge? Because I drank all your milk?”

“You’re just damn lucky I hit that coffee cup. ‘Cause the meds had me pretty shaky that day. Be glad you still have your hand. Is that your favourite one? The one gets the most use?”

“I really do hate you sometimes, you know that, yeah?”

“You’d miss me, though. If I wasn’t around anymore.”

“In your wildest and wettest.”

“Last thing I want to do is sit around here, watching you two get shit-faced. Not when I’ve got a warm body waiting for me.”

“I don’t know what she sees in you. You’re certainly not the best catch on the planet. Not even close to it. She can definitely do better.”

“It’s okay to be jealous, mate.” He clamps both hands down on Alcott’s shoulders.. “ Especially when you’re not even on her short OR long list.”

“Now that’s just rude. Those are just fighting words. Give her a kiss, would ya? From both of us.”

“Don’t bring me into this,” Wick grumbles. “I prefer all my limbs attached to my body.”

“Get your beauty sleep, Australian,” Alcott calls to him as he heads through the room. “Good knows you need about ten years of it to look good even in your mother’s eyes.”

Tyler smirks. “That’s okay. Your mother thinks I’m perfect just the way I am.”

“You fucking asshole. You regular fucking muppet. I oughta come over there and rearrange your ugly face.”

Chuckling, Tyler steps out of the bar. “I’d like to see you try.”

******

He’s rougher than he needs to be. Using his considerable size and strength difference to punish her; able to convincingly hide the hurt, anger and bitterness under layers of voracious want and need. And she willingly takes everything he dishes out; her body eagerly responding to the tight grip around her throat, the yanking of her hair, and the brutally hard thrusts that have her crying out in a mixture of pleasure and pain.

It had always been her favourite; that tiny body able to withstand enormous amounts of torment in the name of sexual gratification. Something he’d both discovered and marvelled at five years ago; amazed at not only the things she allowed him to do but so openly -and boldly- requested of him. And it remains all this time later, despite their absence from each other’s lives; the awe and the adoration and that powerful, all-consuming mixture of lust and love that nothing -or no one- else could ever come close to measuring up to.

The self-loathing makes a quick appearance; feeling the utmost disgust in himself as he lays in bed beside her. Listening to her soft rhythmic breathing as she sleeps soundly; her back presented to him, yet her head resting in the crook of his elbow, those long, dark tresses fanned out across his arm and the sheets below. He hates himself; for both manhandling her and continuing to harbour such resentment. And while it will be ever strong enough to undo the love and the adoration and pure, unadulterated worship that he’s carried for years, it is enough to slightly tarnish them. To make him feel sick to his stomach and despise himself for ever thinking such negative and hateful ways towards her.

Sighing heavily, he drapes a forearm across his brow and takes in slow, deep breaths; a somewhat successful attempt to chase away the ugliness that festers inside his brain. His own body bearing the effects of just how rough and unhinged things had been between them just two short hours before; deep and painful fingernail trails that crisscross his back and his ribs, bite marks that decorate his collarbone, shoulders, and even the inside of his thighs, a tingling scalp where having his hair twisted and yanked. Incredibly enjoyable at the time; her enthusiasm and her ability to ‘dish it out’ encouraging his intensity even more. But now he feels like shit; the conversations in the bar replaying in his head and his anger -towards both her and the situation that had seen her make the decisions she had- simmering just below the surface.

He’s teetering on the edge of sleep when he feels her stir; the slight shifting of the mattress under her tiny body, the absence of the weight of her head upon his arm as she changes positions. Rolling over under her side and sliding closer to him; a hand coming to rest on his stomach as she nuzzles his ear with the tip of her before pressing a lingering kiss to his cheek.

“Why are you awake?”

He lays a palm on the back of her head; fingertips pushing through her hair to lightly and affectionately knead at her scalp. “I was just going to ask you the same thing.”

“I had the weirdest yet mostly satisfying dream. About taking you and Millie to Colorado to meet the fam. My mom picked us up at the airport, called you Crocodile Dundee and insulted your haircut.”

“That’s oddly specific. What happened next?”

“You gave her very detailed instructions on how to fuck off and stay fucked off. I didn’t get right to the end, but I like to think you wrapped things up by slapping the shit out of her.”

“I don’t hit women.”

“Never? Ever? You’ve never hit a woman?”

“What kind of asshole do you think I am?”

“I don’t mean in your personal life. I know you’re not the type. I mean on the job. You’ve never had to resort to it?”

“Just once.”

“Was she a mark or…?”

“Another merc. Working FOR the mark. We got into it. Blood was shed. Only one of us walked away.”

“Well, I obviously don’t need to ask WHO.”

“Yaz got his ass handed to him by one. In Vienna. She absolutely wrecked him. And he’s tough; for such a small guy. But believe me; he couldn’t walk or piss right for a month afterwards.”

“You like to keep up with your friends’ urinating habits, do you?”

“Anyone ever tell you? That you’re a smart ass?”

“You used to tell me ALL the time. Makes me happy to hear it again; means we're getting back to the basics. The good ol’ days. And as for your future monster in law…”

He arches a brow.

“You wouldn’t even backhand her in dreamland? The Wicked Witch of the Midwest? The one who said you kidnapped her only girl and…I quote…’kept her captive in your den of blood and danger and kinky sex’?”

“I mean, she WAS right. About the sex thing.”

“She also called you Ty.”

“Now THAT’S a fighting word. Because of that? I suppose I could make an exception. Knock her out.”

“And here I was, thinking the selling point would be the decades spent making my life a living hell. I thought for sure you’d want to defend my honour. Seriously though…” She lightly runs her fingernails across his stomach. “....why ARE you awake?”

“It’s two thirty in the morning. Why are YOU so chatty?”

“It’s a gift. Answer my question.”

“I’ve always had trouble sleeping. Even back in Dhaka. And especially when we were living together. Come to think of it, I’m starting to see a pattern. The one thing all these places have in common.”

“Maybe it’s better you don’t sleep. Because I might kill you. Smother you with your pillow.”

Chuckling, he wraps an arm around her and pulls her tightly into his side. Lips meeting her brow before resting his chin on the top of her head. “Just got a lot on my mind.”

“When it comes to the job?”

“Are we even calling it that anymore?”

“I mean, you WERE hired. You did show up. And you ARE doing what I employed you for.”

“But? I sense a ‘but’ coming on.”

“Well, there’s nothing really ‘normal’ about it. And Millie and I are definitely not ‘normal’ customers.”

“Everything about this is as far from normal as you can get. It’s personal. Way too close to home. I’m never THIS attached to who I’m looking out for.”

“You looked out for Mia’s sister and her kids. That’s pretty personal.”

“She was my ex-sister-in-law. And it was a job out of pure fucking guilt. Because I felt I owed it to Mia. After everything I had done to hurt her, I figured it was the least I could do.”

“What if you’d died doing it? Was giving up your life the ‘least’ of it, or…”

“At that time? Without you around? I didn’t give a fuck if I was alive or dead. So it wouldn’t have mattered much.”

“It would have mattered to me; if Nik or Yaz or even Alcott got a hold of me and said something happened to you. I wouldn’t have been able to handle that. The fact that I never got to say I was sorry or tell you that I still loved you or to bring Millie to you. So for what it’s worth, I’m glad that never happened. Because I may not have been in the picture, but I would have missed you for the rest of my life.”

Emotion chokes at him, and he places a hand on her hip and gives a tight, affectionate squeeze.

“I was going to come and see you. In Austria. At the prison.”

“Alcott told you I was there?”

Esme nods.

“Why didn’t you show up?”

“I don’t know,” she admits. “I guess I was scared. About how you’d react. It had been almost three years since I’d just disappeared. And you would have had every right to be pissed off enough to have me thrown out of there.”

“I was never THAT pissed off.”

“I also didn’t want it to happen there; the first time we saw each other again. Not exactly the ideal place for a reunion. I don’t think you would have wanted to find out about Millie while you were locked up. Me showing up would have been enough of a shock, never mind THAT.”

“It would have been a hell of a surprise. But I wouldn’t have been pissed off. I would have been relieved more than anything; to see that you were okay and to know that you even gave a shit what was going on with me.”

“I never stopped ‘giving a shit’ about you, Tyler. I worried about you all the time; practically every second of every day. But had I shown up there…”

“You could have been convinced to be a repeat visitor. I could have talked my way into conjugal visits.”

“I probably would have gone along with it. I bet you looked hot in that orange jumpsuit.”

“There is something seriously wrong with you.”

He remains quiet for several minutes, knuckles repeatedly grazing up and down and her spine, her nose pressed against the side of his neck.

“I wrote to you,” she confesses. “Every week for about a year.”

He frowns. “I never got anything.”

“I never sent any of the letters. I just sat down and poured my heart out and then got cold feet about mailing them. So I just put them in a box and tucked them away. They’re actually still in the back of my closet.”

“You kept them all this time?”

“Everything I wish I’d said and everything I should have done differently is in those letters. Even every apology I wish I’d made. There was always unfinished business. An open chapter. And if I got rid of the letters, it meant I was also getting rid of you. And I know I left, and it seemed like I didn’t want you anymore, but I wasn’t ready for it…for US…to be done. I don’t think I ever would have been.”

“Come here,” he beckons and wraps her in both of his arms; enjoying the scent that clings to skin and hair and the warmth that radiates from her naked body.

God, he’d missed it. He’d missed HER. The touch of her hands and the taste of her kiss. The sound of her voice and her laugh. And that smile that’s reserved solely for him; curving her lips and further softening her features and causing her eyes to sparkle and dance. And for several minutes, they lay in silence; the tension and the sadness eased by the familiar weight of her head upon his chest as a large, callused palm continuously strokes her hair.

“Maybe one day you’ll let me read them. You might have chickened out sending them when you wrote them, but…”

“Whenever you’re ready to see them, they’ll be there. And I think it might be good for both of us; if you look at them. Kinda like shutting the door on that part of our lives. Permanently.”

“I don’t think I’m ready right now. I don’t think I’m quite there yet.”

“Take your time. They’re not going anywhere. There’s no rush. I know there’s a lot going on right now; I’ve dumped enough on you in the past four days to last a lifetime. And I never intended to. I never…”

“You haven’t ‘dumped’ anything on me. Using that word makes it something there’s been nothing good. And believe me, Millie is worth more than any of the bad shit. I’d take a bullet to the neck a thousand times over if it meant she’d exist.”

“I just wish things had been different. When it comes to how I handled things. I had the best of intentions. I REALLY did. I panicked; I knew you wouldn’t stand a chance against The High Table, and I had to protect you. If anything had happened to you…”

“I can wrap my head around THAT. What I can’t get past is afterwards. When things went back to normal and they weren’t a threat anymore. That’s what I’m having a hard time getting past.”

“I already explained. I already…”

“I don’t want to be angry.”

“At me?”

He nods.

“You have every right to be, Tyler. I did a horrible thing to you. More than one, actually. And I can justify leaving; I feel I did the right thing when it came to protecting you. But staying under the radar for years and not telling you about Millie…”

“It’s the entire situation I want to be angry at. That I NEED to be angry at. If The High Table never showed up, everything else wouldn’t have happened. You didn’t know they were going to come for you. You thought you were in the free and clear and done with them. And when they came looking for you, you weren’t given much of a choice. It’s them I should be pissed with. Not you.”

“But…”

Firmly gripping the back of her head, he presses a kiss to her temple and then begins to uncoil her from his embrace; hating the absence of contact when he sits up against and leans against the headboard. One leg bent at the knee, he sighs heavily and rakes a hand through his hair and then runs both palms over his weary face.

“Do you think we can actually TALK about this? Without hurting feelings?”

Gathering the quilt around her naked body, Esme sits up as well. “I think feelings are already hurt, don’t you?”

“Without hurting them even more, then? Because I don’t want to fight, Esme. That’s the last thing I want. There’s enough bullshit going on without adding that to the list.”

“I don’t want that either. And I don’t want to fight about this, especially. But if talking is what you want to do…”

“Like rational, reasonable adults.”

She nods in agreement.

“First thing’s first. I need to ask you something. And you gotta promise me it won’t piss you off.”

“How bad is what you’re going to ask that you need a promise like that?”

“It’s not that it’s bad. It’s just…I don’t know…you might think I’m stupid for even thinking about it, let alone asking.”

“And you accuse me of being that one that talks in riddles? What…?”

“Did you and Alcott have something going?”

She can’t help but laugh. “What?”

“Did you ever have anything going with him? Relationship wise?”

“No. No. Omg, no. Never.”

“I mean, a relationship of ANY kind. Maybe you never boyfriend and girlfriend thing, but…”

“There’s no ‘but’. There has NEVER been anything between us other than friendship.”

“Did he ever want there to be?”

“Not that he’s ever told me. Or acted on. Colleagues and buddies, that’s it.”

“What about you? Anything YOU wanted? Or acted on? Or…”

“Tyler, men and women ARE capable of being just friends.”

“You and I weren’t.”

“You and I are in an entirely different league. We always have been. From pretty much the second we met. You never denied it; feeling ‘something’ right away.”

“Lust. It’s called lust. You know how there’s ‘love at first sight’? Well, that was lust at first sight.”

“Yeah, there was a lot of lust. But it was more than that and you know it.”

“Did you feel anything like that for him or…?”

“I have never felt anything for Russell. Other than platonic love. And maybe wanting to smack the shit out of him from time to time.”

Tyler smirks. “Russell. That’s kinda personal, don’t you think?”

“It’s his first name. What else am I supposed to call him?”

“Everyone calls him Alcott. EVERYONE.”

“Probably because they don’t know his actual name IS Russell. I like to call people by their first names. Especially my friends. You’ve always been a little uptight about these kinds of things; you’ve always hated the idea of anyone else being in my life. You don’t even like the fact I was married before we met.”

“What I hate is WHO you were married to. And the shit he did. That’s what I hate.”

“Admit it, you can’t handle the thought of me with anyone else. I bet you stressed about it constantly during the last five years.”

“No.”

She stares at him pointedly.

“Sometimes.”

“I have a history. I have exes. So do you. You were married before me. You don’t see me obsessing over it. I mean, I don’t particularly like the idea of hearing about your slutty bachelor days, but I realize back then you had commitment issues. You’re a red-blooded male with needs and…”

“And you’re a red-blooded female. With needs.”

“Needs I was more than happy to tend to on my own. You’re the type that prefers having a participant with those things. Me…”

“I am more than capable of handling things on my own. Figuratively AND literally…”

“...I don’t need sex. I have gone YEARS without it. I’m capable of surviving without it.”

“That makes me feel great. Thanks for that.”

“If it’s already not glaringly obvious, I enjoy sex with you. I love having it with you. I could have sex with you all day, every day. For the rest of my life. But the fact is, I never gave a shit about it until YOU. It wasn’t a necessity. I’d never been with someone who could get the job done, know what I mean? I always relied on myself for getting there.”

“You have dated some real fucking winners, haven’t you.”

“I may not need sex, but I WANT sex. And I want it with you. Only you. No one else. And seeing as we haven’t seen each other in five years…”

“What about Alessio? You slept with him. You were going to marry the guy.”

“This isn’t about Alessio. Who was a job.”

“I’ve never had a job that required me to fuck someone.”

“I was his fiancee. I was playing a part. If I didn’t do THAT? He would have known something was up. And maybe it was drastic; going to those extremes. But I did. I allowed myself to feel beautiful. And wanted.”

“I wanted you.”

“And I fucked that up. I know that. But other than him? And this playing pretend? There’s never been anyone else. I haven’t wanted to be with anyone but you. And I tried. Not the sex thing, but the dating and the relationship stuff. I met people. Men, women. I went out a few times. And you know what? Every time they tried to take things further? All I did was compare them to you.”

Tyler blinks at her honesty.

“I have never wanted anyone else. I’m not afraid to admit that. And there’s never been a damn thing between Russell and I. He kept me updated on things you were doing; he contacted me about Georgia and Mia and her sister and all of that. And told me about you going to prison. Other than Millie, he was the strongest connection I had to you.”

“And Nik. And Yaz. All these people that knew you were okay.”

“All people I swore to secrecy and hated every second of it. They didn’t want to lie to you. I especially didn’t want to. And I don’t get your hang-up with Russell and me. You don’t ever question my friendship with Yaz.”

“That’s because he’s Yaz. He may have a huge hard-on for you…”

“He has a hard-on for me? What? He told you that?”

“...but I know you wouldn’t give him the time of day. Not like that. I know you see him like a little brother. But Alcott..”

“It’s because Alcott’s like you, right? He reminds you of yourself. And because I lusted you immediately and fell in love with you so quickly, it must mean it happened with him too.”

“Maybe. I don’t know. I don’t know why it bothers me. How close the two of you are.”

“All I can do is tell you the truth. And reassure you. As many times as you need it. There has never been anything between us. On either of our parts. Nothing has even come remotely close to crossing a line. I know I hurt you and I betrayed you and you don’t exactly trust me right now…”

“I trust you. With my life. With my daughter’s life.” ‘ “...but I wouldn’t lie about this. I don’t see him in that way. I don’t see anyone in that way. It’s just you, Tyler. That I’ve wanted. It’s always been you. It will always be ONLY you.”

“You’d tell me, yeah? If there’d been anyone else? During the last five years? OTHER than that dick head, Alessio.”

“You were honest with me; about sowing your wild oats all over Australia and many parts of Europe. Why would I not tell you the truth? There hasn’t been anyone else. And there especially hasn’t been anything with Alcott. And there never will be.”

He nods slowly as he considers her words.

“On a side note, he’s banging your ex-wife, you know.”

“I don’t care what he’s doing to my ex. She’s my ex for a reason. She stopped being any of my concern a long time ago.”

“You were concerned enough to help her. To take the job. Put your life on the line to get her sister and her kids the hell out of Georgia.”

“It was a job. I was being paid.”

“Maybe. But there’s a history there. You were married to the woman. You had a child with her. I know the kind of guilt and regret you carry around. You can’t tell me those didn’t play a part.”

“How did we go from talking about us to talking about her? How…?”

“You want to talk. So let’s talk. Let’s get it all out there. Say the things we need to say. You’re not the only one who’s been holding onto some shit.”

“And now who’s worried about someone else’s history?”

“I don’t care about your history. I care about YOU. And when I heard about that job…”

“You left. I wasn’t the one who took off. You were. So I stopped being of any concern to you. Second you walk out that door…”

“No. It never stopped. I never stopped worrying about you. I didn’t leave because of something you did. Or didn’t do. I never took off because I didn’t love you. I took off because I did.”

“You know how you always say ‘opposites attract’? When it comes to us? Maybe most of the time, that’s true. But it’s not with this. You left, Esme. You left ME. Just like I left my boy. So we have THAT in common, don’t we.”

“I never blamed you for leaving your son. I said it was a stupid thing to do. I still think it was. But I also told you I understood why you did it. I sympathized with you. I still do. It was a horrible, horrible thing to go through; seeing your child sick and wasting away. And you’d never been taught coping skills and you had all that toxic masculinity and you…”

“Why did you leave?”

“I told you. I left to protect you”

“We could have found a way. To fight back. So tell me, why didn’t you stay?”

“I was scared and I was worried and I didn’t want anything to happen to you. I…”

“Esme…” His voice becomes more forceful. Demanding. “Why didn’t you stay?”

“Because I fucked up. Because I brought them to you. And I didn’t know what else to do. So I left. Because I didn’t know how to fix it.”

Silence descends on the room. An eerily still quiet that remains until she sniffles loudly; wiping at errant tears with the back of her hand.

“I couldn’t fix it. I couldn’t fucking fix it”

“Why do you think I left my boy?”

“It’s not the same thing. It’s not…”

“It is. It IS the same thing. We left for the same reasons. And what happened because of it? We took off. And we hurt the only person that ever really gave a fuck about us.”

“I didn’t know what else to do. I didn’t know how to get away from them. I didn’t want them coming back. Not when you were there. I didn’t want them hurting you. Or worse.”

“We would have had time. To get the fuck out of there. We could have found a place to hide out. We could have flown under the radar and let Nik and John and even Alcott deal with The High Table. You didn’t have to leave.”

“I didn’t think of that. I was scared. You were still healing from Dhaka. And even if you’d been a hundred percent, you’re not invincible. You wouldn’t have beaten them, Tyler. Not on your own. Not even with a small army. They would have found us. No matter where we were hiding.”

“Don’t underestimate Nik. She would have put us far underground. No one would have been able to track us.”

“I didn’t even consider it. It didn’t even cross my mind.”

“Like you said; you were scared and you were worried. Kinda hard to think right under those circumstances. But Nik? She has no excuse for not coming up with a solution like that.”

“I’m sorry, Tyler. That I didn’t think of those. That I didn’t stay. I wanted to. I wanted to be with you. I never wanted to leave.”

Reaching out, calloused fingertips push strands of hair off her forehead and tuck others behind her ears. “I know you didn’t.”

“We both fucked up. In the past. Only my fuck up lasted five years. And I not only hurt you, but I hurt Millie, too.”

“You didn’t hurt her. Not in the slightest.”

“I kept her away from her dad. For selfish fucking reasons. All because I was worried about rejection. Because I was scared you’d turn me away. That you’d turn US away.”

“I wouldn’t have. I’ve spent the last five years wondering where you were. HOW you were. Wanting you.”

“I’m a horrible person.”

“No. You’re not. You’re a good person who made a bad decision.”

“I remember saying those exact words to you. In Dhaka.”

“And you didn’t hurt Millie. Look how amazing she is. She’s healthy and happy and she’s so fucking smart, Me. And she’s beautiful and she’s perfect and she’s everything that’s great inside both of us all into one. You didn’t hurt her. And you definitely didn’t fail her. You’ve done an awesome job with her. And I’m lucky. Of all the people that are the mother to my kid, it’s you. Because a lot of other women never would have gone through with having her.”

“There was no way I was giving her up. Not while I was pregnant and definitely not after. And I needed to hear that from you. That I haven’t fucked her up. That I’ve done good with her. And BY her.”

“You’ve done more than good, believe me.”

“I am so sorry. That I screwed up so badly. That I left instead of trying to fix things. I really did do it because I didn’t think I had another choice. Because I was scared and worried and wanted to keep you safe.”

“I can accept that. I HAVE accepted it. But when everything was gone and you still stayed away? That’s what I’m having a hard time with. That I just can’t get past. And I want to; get past it.”

“Tell me what I need to do. Tell me what I need to say. I’ll do it. I’ll do anything to make this better. To make it right.”

“There’s nothing you can say. Or do. You’ve already done it all. It’s just me. It’s me needing time to process and accept it and move on from it.”

“So what does that mean for us? You don’t want there to be an us? Until you’ve done all that?”

“That’s not what I’m saying. At all. Of course, I want there to be an us. Did you not ask me to marry you?”

“Not in so many words, but…”

“And did I not say okay?”

She nods.

“I want you. I want US. I want to raise our daughter together. I want to get married and have more kids. I mean, if that’s what you want. More.”

She manages a weak, shaly smile. “A couple more wouldn’t hurt.”

“I’m actually looking forward to; finding out we’re having another one and seeing you pregnant. That’s one of the things I AM pissed about; that I didn’t get to see you like that. All cute and round, and the baby…MY baby…just growing and thriving in there.”

“I carried HUGE with Milile. People were always asking if there was more than one because of just how huge I was. I told them, ‘This is what happens when you procreate with a giant.’”

“I hope you know I’m going to be one of those insanely protective dads-to-be.”

“More protective than you already are with me? Is that even possible?”

“Don’t challenge me, Esme. You’d be surprised how far I can go with it. And I’ll deal with my shit; all the issues I’ve got going on because of what happened. But I’ll do it WHILE we’re together. I’m not worried about that; it causing problems between us or with our family. I just thought you needed to know that I AM still struggling with all of this; you staying away and keeping Millie from me. And I don’t know how long I’ll actually fight with it, but I will get over it. Eventually.”

“And you’ll still love me? Even when things seem extra hard?”

“I love you no matter what. I never stopped. Not once in those five years. I’ve always loved you. I always will.”

As he leans in to peck his lips, her fingers aggressively push through his hair. A long, trembling sigh escaping her when the hand on the nape of her neck tightens its grip; holding her firmly against him as he prolongs and deepens the kiss. Long, sinuous movements of lips and tongue, accompanied by naked limbs that glide and rub against each other as they once more sprawl out across the bed. And when air becomes a necessity, he pulls away and braces himself on both arms above her; a smile curving her lips as she reaches up to trace the line of his jaw.

“Can I ask YOU something now?”

“As long it’s not about my ex-wife, what happened between you and me five years ago, or what’s going to happen in less thirty-six hours.”

“It’s not about any of those things.”

“What do you want to ask me?”

“Is it true? That Yaz has a hard-on for me?”

Chuckling, Tyler leans down and nips at the side of her neck. “You’re a brat.”

“Did he actually tell you that? That he’s packing a woody for me?”

“I can’t give away all his secrets. I’ve said enough.”

“Did you threaten to rip from limb to limb if he even tried anything?”

He briefly glances over his shoulder, his smile a striking and almost unnerving contrast to the darkness in his eyes. And he can’t help but admire her, his future wife with her hair thrown into a messy bun and her tiny body clad in nothing but one of the plaid button-downs he’d brought to New York City. It’s enormous on her, the fabric falling well below her knees, the sleeves rolled up several times in order to see her hands.

“Why do I get the sneaky suspicion that most of my side of the closet will migrate to yours?”

“Because it’s not your first rodeo. How many hoodies and t-shirts did you lose to me that year in The Kimberley?”

“Way too many to count, that’s for sure.”

“I was thinking…” She wanders into the living area, briefly stopping to pour herself tea from a freshly brewed carafe before joining him. “... about how we should do it sooner. Rather than later.”

A smirk plays on the corners of his mouth. “Are we talking about butt stuff or…?”

Esme scowls. “What’s wrong with you?”

“You mean right now or in general?”

“We did THAT twelve hours ago. I know you have short-term memory issues, but Jesus…”

“So we’re NOT talking about that. We’re talking about…”

“Marriage.” She focuses on those enormous, strong hands in order to quell her nervousness; their calloused skin, their various scars, and their misshapen knuckles. She knows the various kinds of torture they can inflict, both in the name of violence and vengeance and in creating the most intense and overwhelming sexual pleasure she’s ever experienced in her life. “Me and you. Us. Tying the knot.”

“I thought you wanted to wait. A couple years at least. Put it off until we all got adjusted to living together again and being a family and all that.”

“I guess I just got thinking about it and how it wouldn’t really matter, would it? If we got adjusted and used to things AFTER we got married? I mean, if we’re living together and we’re a team when it comes to raising Millie, it’s as good as already being married. so…”

“And just when were you thinking about all this? We only decided to tie the knot yesterday.”

“Well, I had a bit of time on my hands…”

“Does this have anything to do with the talk we had last night? You being a little paranoid that me taking the time to work on my shit somehow means I don’t want to also work on us?”

“Maybe…”

“I already told you; one has nothing to do with the other. I can do BOTH. It’s not ‘either or’.”

“It just might be a lot, you know? Trying to handle both. Dealing with what happened five years ago and between then and now and trying to play house with me and raise Millie and…”

“And getting married and being a newlywed would somehow be easier? Not put so much on my plate?”

“Maybe not easier, but….” She chews on the inside of her cheek as he stares at her pointedly, then heaves a sigh of exasperation. “Okay, so maybe I’m just a little bit neurotic and…”

“Just a ‘little bit’?’

“A LOT neurotic. At times. And I guess I’m just worried that if we don’t really lock things down BEFORE dealing with everything else, it’ll somehow make it easier for you to walk away and leave us and…”

“I’m not going to walk away. There’s nothing that you could possibly do or say that would make that happen. I’m all in. I told you that. You trust me, yeah?”

“It’s not about not trusting you. I have ALWAYS trusted you. It’s more about things being too heavy and complicated for you to handle and needing a way out.”

“I’m not that guy anymore.”

“It’s going to be hard, Tyler. Unpacking all our baggage and coming to terms with what happened. With what I did. It’s not going to be simple; accepting it all and moving on from it. And I wouldn’t blame you if it was too much and you left and…”

“Where the hell am I going to? It’s my house.”

“You know what I mean. It’s a lot easier to throw in the towel when there’s nothing really holding you down. And I know it’s just a ring and a piece of paper, but it’s like a guarantee. An insurance policy, even. It makes it harder to give up when it’s much more serious and permanent.”

“I think you’re reading into this too much. What we talked about last night.”

“I just worry that you won’t want to work as hard without that tie to me. At getting past things. At forgiving me.”

“I HAVE forgiven you.”

“Have you? Have you really?”

“I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t. I would have left the same day I got here, as soon as I found out you were the one who hired me. You think I would have stuck around if I hated you?”

“Well, at first, you could have stuck around out of some sense of obligation. Millie being yours and all…”

“I’m not sure ‘obligation’ is the right word, but yeah, her existence does play a huge part in why I hung around. Obviously. But it’s not the only thing that kept me here.”

“You stayed because…”

“Because I love you. I’ve always loved you. I spent five years hoping you’d just come wandering back into my life. That you’d show up out of nowhere, just like when we first met. I stayed here in New York for you. Simple as that. I stayed for YOU.”

Both lower lip and chin tremble as tears brim in her eyes. “It is way too early in the morning for this. Tyler Rake. Making me cry like this.”

“I’m not trying to make you cry. I’m trying to make you realize that I’m not going anywhere. You don’t need an ‘insurance policy’ or a ‘guarantee’ or whatever you want to call it to keep me around. I’m here, aren’t I?”

“I have a hard time understanding it, I guess. The fact you ARE here. That you choose to be here. That it’s not just because you were hired to do a job.”

“It stopped being a job the second I saw you. Do you really think I see it that way? That this is just another gig? This is far beyond being just a payday. The minute I saw you and then met Millie…”

“I just feel like you’ve been too…I don’t know...accomodating, maybe? Too forgiving?”

“What do you want me to be like?”

Esme shrugs. “I guess I was expecting something different. Something a little more…volatile.”

“I’d never be that way with you. Ever. Doesn’t matter how bad things get. It would never happen.”

“I expected more, I guess. More anger. More bitterness. Maybe even making me get down on my hands and knees and grovel at your feet.”

“Well, if you want to get down on your knees, I’ve got something else you can do other than grovel.”

“Regardless of what you think, a blowjob does not solve every problem.”

“Maybe not EVERY problem, but a hell of a lot of them. I bet we’d come close to achieving world peace if more people got on their knees and…”

“I appreciate the attempts at piggish humour to get me to loosen up a bit, but I’m trying to have a serious conversation with you. A totally random one, mind you. But still…”

“I don’t what it is you want from me,” he admits, and turns back to the supply case. Checking the selection of magazines and filling those running low on ammunition. “What more you need me to say. Or do. I’ve been pretty open about it; all the shit I’m still holding onto and the fact I still love you and never got over you. I haven’t held anything back.”

“Like I said, I was expecting more. Something different. You’ve just been so…calm.”

“I’ve had my moments. Especially during our talk the first night here. Things got a little heated from what I remember.”’

“That was still calm. For you, anyway.”

“What is it you want to hear? What exactly do you want from me? Do you want me to completely freak out? Totally lose my shit on you? Bust up my hotel room? Put holes in the walls? Is that the kind of reaction you want?”

“I don’t know. I mean, I’m glad you never got like that. But I’m also a little weirded out, I suppose. That you didn’t go off the rails more than you did. I thought seeing Millie and realizing she was yours…”

“Seeing Millie and realizing she IS mine is what stopped me from going totally off the rails. Made me realize you had other reasons; for staying under the radar. I’m not exactly well-liked. Not in this circle, anyway. I’ve pissed off a lot of people. Burnt a lot of bridges. There’s quite a long list of people who wouldn’t mind getting revenge. I just figured maybe that’s why you kept her a secret. That maybe you were worried if word got out that I had a kid, they’d make her a target.”

“I never once thought about any of that. You weren’t the issue, Tyler. You didn’t do anything wrong. It was never about you. I mean, it WAS. But not like that.”

“I wouldn’t have blamed you. If you’d thought that. It’s pretty reasonable; not wanting trouble to show up on your doorstep. You wanted to protect your daughter.”

“OUR daughter,” she gently corrects. “She’s OUR daughter. And I never felt like I had to protect her from you. Or because of you. It was all me. I didn’t want you to turn us away. That’s what I was afraid of. That you wouldn’t want her because of me.”

“I would have wanted her. And I would have wanted you, too. I’ve only wanted you for the last five years.”

“I didn’t know that. No one ever talked about it. Your personal life. Nik never mentioned how you were doing outside of your firefighting and your reno business and doing the odd job here and there for her. And to be honest, I was scared to ask. I didn’t want to hear that you found someone else. That you’d moved on. And I know that sounds selfish as fuck, but…”

“Want to hear selfish as fuck?” Filling the last clip, he snaps it into its holding spot and then turns to face her. Arms crossed over his chest as he leans back against the edge of the table. “I used to hope that you were dead. Not because I was angry at you and felt you deserved it. Because I would have rathered you permanently gone than with someone else.”

She blinks, taken back by his honesty.

“I could handle you being dead, but not with another guy. Now who’s the selfish one? What kind of person even thinks like that? How messed up does someone have to be to come up with something so fucking twisted?”

“You’re a human being. You were hurt. And when we’re hurt, we don’t exactly think properly. We don’t…”

“It wasn’t because I was hurt. Or angry. It was because I didn’t want you with anyone else. Because all I could think was how if I couldn’t have you, I didn’t want anyone else to either.”

“I felt the same way. Every time I thought of you with someone. It fucking killed me inside. To even go down that road. I didn’t want you with anyone else. Which is pretty messed up considering I’m the one who left you.”

“We both have our issues. We always have. It’s never been one hundred percent healthy. I mean, look how we met. WHERE we met.”

.“Doesn’t mean it’s wrong, though. Us. I’ve never felt it was wrong. Have you?”

“I’ve never regretted a single thing. I’d take that bullet to the neck a million times over if it meant I got to be with you.”

“Don’t say that, Tyler. Don’t even think it. Because I don’t deserve it. That kind of devotion. I don’t…”

“I think the problem is that you WANT me to be angry. Or angrier than I am. You WANT me to totally lose my shit on you. You want me to yell and scream and tear things apart and make you feel like complete and utter shit.”

“It’s not that I want it. It’s just that…”

“You think you deserve it.”

She nods.

“You don’t. You don’t deserve that. Especially knowing the truth. About WHY you left. Yeah, there were a thousand different ways you could have handled it. You could have stayed; we could have found a way to get you out of that mess. We could have gone so far underground that they never would have found us. While Nik dealt with things. But like you said, when you’re scared, you don’t exactly think right.”

“I hurt you. Taking off like I did. Not even giving you a proper explanation. And then keeping Millie from me…”

“You’re not a bad person, Esme. You’re a good person who made a bad decision. A couple of them, actually.”

“And I deserve more. From you.”

“You’re angry because I’m NOT? Because I’m not living up to your standards of how angry I should be? Why do I need to treat you like that? Make you feel like crap? Even if I wanted to, I wouldn’t even bother. Because you’re already doing a damn good job. When it comes to shit-talking yourself.”

“But I deserve that. I deserve to feel that way. To have YOU make me feel that way.”

“I don’t hate you. I could NEVER hate you. I love you too fucking much. And besides, no one could ever hate you the way you hate yourself. For what you did.”

“I can’t make peace with it. Especially when it comes to keeping Millie from you. I can’t…”

“I need you to. I need you to stop with it; all that hate and that guilt and that regret you’re carrying around. Because THAT’S what’s going to kill us. If you’re going to spend the rest of your life hating yourself and beating yourself up over it, it’s going to fuck US up. And I don’t want that. That’s the last thing I want.”

“You know….” She swipes at her escaping tears with the back of her hand. “...there’s something slightly disturbing around this changing of the guard stuff.”

Tyler arches a quizzical brow.

“When YOU’RE the one being the most rational and logical? Well, it’s kind of unnerving.”

He grins. “Smart ass.”

“I don’t know HOW to get rid of it. I’ve carried it for so long that it’s become a part of me. Where do I even start? When it comes to letting it go?”

“Well, the first thing is to believe me when I tell you that I love you. That I always have. That I don’t hate you, and I definitely wouldn’t have turned you away. I spent five years wondering where you were. What you were doing. If you were even alive. I never forgot about you. Or got over you. I probably never would have. And I don’t know why that’s so hard for you to accept.”

“I guess I don’t feel I deserve that. Someone loving me that much.”

“Why? Why do you feel like I don’t deserve it?”

“I don’t know,” she admits. “I just…do.”

“It isn’t just about what happened five years ago, is it.” It’s a statement, not a question. “That’s not the only thing going on here. It’s not just you hating yourself because of what you did.”

“What do you mean? What…?”

“You expect me to be like Mark. You expect me to react the same way he would.”

“You’re nothing like him. I would NEVER compare you to him. I would never…”

“But that’s what you’re used to, yeah? The way he treated you. You even grew up with a mom that didn’t give a fuck about you. Two people that you should have been able to trust and should have loved you no matter what turned out to be fucking assholes. So because I say ‘I love you’, I’m expected to turn out the same way.”

“I don’t expect that at all. I just think you being angry at me is and showing it is a normal reaction and…”

“But it’s not normal. Not the way you want me to show it, at least. You want me to freak out and destroy shit and make you feel like garbage. And maybe the Tyler five years ago would have acted that way; maybe he would have tried to burn everything to the fucking ground. But I’m not him anymore. And I’m definitely NOT Mark.”

“I know you’re not him. You’re not even close to being anywhere like him.”

“But you want me to be. And I’m sorry, but that’s fucked up. I mean, I get it; I understand why you are the way you are. But it’s still messed up.”

“You get used to it, I suppose. The way you’re treated. You believe everything someone tells you. About how terrible and repulsive you are and how you deserve the things they do to you. I’m not who I was; before he ever walked into my life. Sometimes I don’t even know who I am. That Esme? She’s long gone. He killed her.”

“No. He didn’t. Because the Esme I know? She’s the strongest person I’ve ever met. Everything that you’ve been through, everything that you’ve done? You staying on that bridge and putting your ass on the line for some guy you barely knew? And then all that you did in the hospital? For MONTHS? That’s real bravery. You’re a far braver and stronger person than I am.”

“That’s not true, and you know it. Everything YOU’VE been through?”

“Who got me through the worst of it? Who was the one that stuck around and shoved their fingers in my neck to stop me from bleeding to death? And who fought like hell to get me the best care in the hospital? Who stuck during all that shit afterwards? All that therapy and me being a grumpy fucking asshole?”

“In all fairness….” She manages a shaky smile. “...you’re a grumpy fucking asshole regardless of what you’re going through.”

“You got used to it the first time. Think you can do it a second?”

“I think I can do it a million more times.”

“I’m never going to be like him, Esme. And maybe, in a way, it IS expected me. Considering what I do for a living and the things I’ve done to people. But that’s not who I am. Away from the job. That Tyler is someone completely different. And I think deep down, you know that.”

“Of course I do. I wouldn’t be with you if you were that other Tyler all the time. It’s what attracted me to you; you were different than anyone else I’d ever met on the job. You had all this kindness in your eyes and in your voice. All this humanity still left inside of you. And that’s what I liked. What I fell in love with.”

“You are the strongest person I have ever known. And that’s saying something considering the life I’ve led. And I’m sorry; for every disgusting, horrible he said and did to you. And that you ever believed you deserved any of that. But I’ll never be like him. No matter how ugly and hard things might get. He didn’t love you. He didn’t even LIKE you. You realize that, yeah?”

She nods.

“I love you. In a way I never thought I could love someone. And maybe one day, you’ll believe me. I don’t care how long it takes, but I really hope it happens.”

“It’s not that I don’t believe you. I KNOW you love me. I just don’t understand how you still can. After what I did.”

“Why do you love me? Look at the shit I’ve done. I’ve hurt people. I’ve KILLED people. Look what what I did to my ex. To my boy. Look at how much I hurt them. How can you love me knowing all that?”

“Because I know you’re a good man. With a huge heart. And I know how much damage it’s done to you; the choices that you’ve made. You have your regrets and your own guilt and…”

He stares at her pointedly.

“Oh…” A smile creeps across her face as the realization sets in. “Just like I have mine.”

“You love me. Even all the messy, fucked up pieces. Despite all the shit I’ve done, you still think I’m a decent person. Capable of doing good things. You don’t see me like some monster that’s beyond forgiveness. That’s got blood all over his hands.”

“Because you’re not that person. You’ve done those things, but they don’t define you.”

“And your mistakes and your issues and whatever you’ve got going on? They don’t define YOU. I don’t see you the way you see yourself. I could NEVER see you like that. And yeah, I’m hurt and I’m angry. I’ve got some bitterness. But the good things I feel? Towards you? They’re way stronger than any of that.”

She finally moves closer; standing between his legs and placing her hands on his hips and her forehead against his chest. “I don’t want to be like this. I don’t want to hold onto all of this…stuff.”

Dropping a kiss on the top of her head, he repeatedly runs his hands over her arms and back. “We’ve got some shit to deal with. But we can do that as a team. Help each other. Stronger together than we are apart, remember?”

She smiles up at him. “I remember.”

Smoothing wayward strands of hair away from the side of her face, he places a kiss on the tip of her nose. “Neither of us is alone in this. Not anymore. We just gotta remember that. That we don’t have to go through it by ourselves.”

“It’s going to take some time. To get used to NOT doing it all alone.”

“We got used to it five years ago. We’ll get used to it again. And if you really do want to get married sooner and it’s for the right reasons? I’m good with it.”

Her hands slide up the bottom of his shirt; index fingers hooking in his belt loops, as she leans her body against his. “I want to marry you because I love you. I always have. I never stopped, you know. I never stopped wanting you or missing or wishing that things could have been married. I want to be your wife; I want us to raise Millie and have more babies and grow old and gray and spoil grandkids together. Are those the right reasons?”

“Those definitely are.”

“We lost five years, Tyler. And there’s no way of getting them back. I don’t want to wait. It’s not like I need or really even want anything big or fancy. That’s just who I am. I’m perfectly fine with just heading to the nearest courthouse and doing it in front of Millie and a couple of witnesses.”

“I don’t want you to regret it. Doing things that way.”

“I just want to marry you. I don’t care how that happens. Or where. But you have to want that, too. I don’t want you just going along with it just to make me happy.”

“If there were a way of making it happen, I’d marry you right now. If it was better timing and under better circumstances…”

“Maybe once we get to Australia? And spend a couple of days getting settled? Maybe then?”

“As soon as we get home, we can talk about it. Make plans. Sound good?”

“I like hearing you call it that. Home. Like I’m somehow already part of it.”

“You’ve always been part of it. We bought the place together. Had tons of plans for it. Things just didn’t happen when we thought they would. Doesn’t mean they won’t now.”

“You know, for such a huge man and such a badass, you really are a big sap.”

“That is a mean, horrible thing to say to your future husband.”

“There’s nothing wrong with being a sap.”

“There’s something very wrong with it. I’m not supposed to be a sap. Haven’t you heard? I’m a bit of a legend now.”

“Oh, really? Is that a legend in your own mind or…?”

Initially frowning, he causes her to squeal when he aggressively slaps a palm against her ass, enjoying the sound of her giggle when he pinches both cheeks through the fabric of her pyjama pants. And when both hands settle at the small of her back, she once more leans against him, both arms circling his waist.

“It’s going to be okay,” he assures her. “Everything’s going to work itself out. As long as we put the work in. And as long as we stick together.”

“Lord knows we’ve been through worse.”

“That’s the understatement of the century. All I know is that I’m all in. No matter how rough it gets. You can’t get rid of me that easy.”

“Who says I want to? I hate to break it to you, but you’re stuck with me. For a really long time.”

“Yeah?” With a hand on the small of her back, he uses gentle fingertips to push hair away from the sides of her face and out of her eyes. “Well, I can think of worse ways to spend the second half of my life.” Placing a palm on the nape of her neck, he pulls her into him, fingers kneading at the tense muscles as she rests her head against him. “It really IS going to be alright.”

“I’m scared,” she admits. “About tomorrow.”

“I’d be worried if you weren’t. I’m a little…unnerved…myself.”

“Okay, now that doesn’t fill me with the utmost confidence,” she teases. “When the mercenary is having second thoughts, that’s not a good sign.”

“No second thoughts. I’m not questioning whether or not I should have ever come here. I would have taken the job whether it was you involved or not. Just…”

“It’s just personal. Very personal.”

Tyler nods. “I’m having a hard time.; separating those two sides of me. The merc side and the one that’s just a normal guy, worried about his family.”

“Maybe it was better if I didn’t call you. If I’d just gone with someone else…”

“Don’t say that. Don’t EVER say that. You did the right thing. As much as a kick in the balls it was to see my secret kid walk into the room…”

“I don’t want to fight. If we start talking about it, we’re going to fight and I don’t…”

“All I’m saying is that despite everything dropped on me, you did the right thing. By having Nik reach out. If you hadn’t have and I found out about all this later, THEN I would have completely lost my shit. If you’d hired someone else…”

“You were the only person on the list. Nik tried; to convince me to go with someone else.”

“Of course she did. ‘Cause hiring me meant I’d found out about the bullshit she’s pulling for the last five years.”

“She only did what I asked. And she fought me about it. All the time. Please don’t hate her, okay? I’m the one who brought her into all of this. I’m the one who asked for her help five years ago. I’m the one who put her right in the middle of this. And you know what? She’d do the same for you. If you needed that kind of help. You know she would.”

“It’s hard. Accepting it. That she lied all that time. She knew how bad off I was off and she could have ended it. All she had to tell me was that you were okay. And that it wasn’t my fault. That’s all she had to do.”

“If you’re going to hate anyone, it should be me.”

“Don’t start that again.”

“ I’m the one dragged her into it. Who dragged ALL of these people into it. I’m the one that fucked up, Tyler. So please don’t take this out on Nik or Yaz or anyone else. Because they were just trying to help. And if I’d never put them into the middle of all this…”

“You didn’t have much of a choice. You had a hell of a scare put into you. Like I said, I understand that part. And I swear if you apologize to me one more time for ‘dragging me’ into things…”

“It’s just such a mess. Alessio’s family? They are horrible, evil people. They aren’t going to just stop, you know. If we get out of the city, they will do whatever they can to find us. And they will. Eventually.”

“And then I deal with it. They catch up to us, I handle it.”

“You’re one man. You’re not invincible. And I just got you back: Millie just finally got her dad in her life. So if anything happens to you…”

“Nothing is going to happen to me. That’s something you don’t need to worry about.”

“You should know better than to tell ME…of all people…not to worry.”

“Then just trust me. I know what I’m doing. I’m not a rookie. If I say I can handle things and I have them under control, just take my word for it. Can you do that?”

“Depends. Can I still worry at the same time?”

“If you can manage both, I don’t see why not. I know how good you are at multitasking. I lived with you for a year.”

“And that was the best year of your life, buddy. Don’t deny it.”

“What’s there to deny? It’s the truth. It was a little…rough…at first. Getting used to you and your shit, but…”

“Me and my shit?” Esme laughs. “Who was the one who managed to get himself shot in the neck and nearly die and end up in hospital in Dubai? Do we really need to name names?”

“Technically, I was shot SIX times, but…”

“It was a little rough. Getting used to living with someone. Learning about their little quirks and what makes them tick and drives you absolutely insane about them. But I liked it. Being with you like that. We definitely had more good times than bad.”

“We were on a pretty good roll, weren’t we? When it came to things going good?”

“We were. And I’m sorry. That I screwed it up so badly. That was the last thing I wanted.”

“None of that matters now. Not when it comes to where we go from here. Might be a little hard getting used to you all over again…”

“You poor baby. My heart bleeds for you.”

“But…” Both hands find her ass, squeezing firmly as he pulls her tightly against him. “...I think I’ll manage.”

“I’m willing to put in the hard work if you are. We’ll just dig in our heels and take it one day at a time. Just ignore the rest of the world and concentrate on each other and Millie and what’s going on under our roof. Sound like a deal?”

Nodding, he covers her mouth with his in a long, soft kiss. “It’s a deal.”

******

They relax on the couch. Enjoying the last moments of silence before Millie and Abuela wake and Nik and the rest of the team begin arriving; anxious to arrange the final pieces of the puzzle. Tyler sits sideways, leaning back against the arm of the couch with one leg stretched out and the other dangling hanging over the edge. Esme content between his splayed thighs; resting back against him as she sips a tea and he keeps a lovingly yet protective hold on her. A forearm lying across her collarbone, and his free hand lightly placed on her stomach.

“She’ll be up soon,” Esme eyes the bedroom door over the rim of her mug. “And the havoc shall begin.”

“I mean, she’s been amazing with me. But I also haven’t been around her twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week, for nearly five years, so…”

“Oh, just you wait. You haven’t had the full Millie experience yet. She’s been on her best behaviour; she adores you and she’s trying her best to butter you up and just reel you in. I think she’s worried you might be temporary; that you’ll leave as soon as the bad guys are dealt with. That scares her. She’s already really attached to you. She doesn’t want to lose you.”

“I guess I’ll have to prove to her that that’s not going to happen. Same way I’ll have to prove it to her mumma. Tell both of you as many times as I have to; that I’m not going anywhere and you’re both stuck with me.”

“What a horrible, miserable life to lead.” She teases, then tips her head back and smiles up at him.

“I have to admit, she CAN be a handful. I don’t where she finds the energy. I’m used to going days without sleep sometimes, but THAT girl? She can wear me out.”

“You know she gets that from you, right? The whole ‘not being able to sit still for longer than five minutes’ thing? And as far as being a handful, that’s definitely YOUR DNA.”

“You gotta be kidding me. She gets all the bad stuff from her mother.”

Giving a derisive snort, she playfully elbows him in the stomach. “You wish! She is all you! That is all Rake DNA inside of her. My genes didn’t stand a chance! Did I mention she can be extremely grumpy? Especially first thing in the morning? And that she’s insanely stubborn?”

“And you’re not stubborn? You’re the most stubborn person I’ve ever met.”

“Other than yourself, you mean. You are way worse than I am!”

“I don’t even come close. You are by far a million light years ahead of me. In the stubbornness department.”

“Whatever,” she grumbles, and then giggles when he lightly pinches her side and presses a kiss to her temple. And for several minutes, they sit in companionable silence; his eyes closed and his nose pressed against the side of her head as her nails repeatedly brushing along his forearm.

“What’cha thinking about?” Esme inquires, momentarily leaving his embrace in order to lean sideways and place her empty mug on the coffee table.

“You really want to know?”

“I wouldn’t have asked.”

“Christmas.”

She tilts her head back to look up at him, an eyebrow arched quizzically. “What?”

“I was thinking about Christmas. There were a couple of other things in there too, but it was mostly that. How we’re going to have to get a tree and decorations and stuff for outside and presents and…”

“Babe, it’s more than a month away. We haven’t even got to Thanksgiving yet.”

“Yeah, but that’s an easy holiday. Just eat a lot of food and pass out on the couch while watching footie. Now Christmas…”

“When did you get so interested in celebrating Christmas? You thought I was crazy for wanting go all out; when we lived in the little shack in The Kimberley.”

“Look where we lived. Who would want to celebrate Christmas in that place? And you got your holiday in the end; we got you a tree, I put lights up outside, you did up the inside…”

“And you bitched and moaned the entire time. But I do appreciate it; you putting in the effort to make ME happy.”

“I had my reasons. For not caring about Christmas. We talked about them. Extensively.”

“And what about now? Those reasons still exist.” ‘ “Yet, but much more important ones exist, too. I’ve got a family. I’ve got a soon-to-be wife and a little girl. And it’s her first Christmas. With me. With her dad. I just want it to be perfect. For her.”

Smiling, she presses a kiss to the side of his wrist. “You are so cute.”

Tyler scowls and then nips at her earlobe. “Shut up.”

“There is nothing with being called cute. Or sappy. Or adorable. You are all those things. But you’re also insanely hot and sexy and a total bad ass that can kill a man a hundred different ways with his bare hands.”

“It’s more like a hundred and fifty, but…”

“You are so many things rolled up into one. A total walking contradiction. People see how big you are and all the scars and the tattoos and that resting asshole you have going on ninety percent of the time and…”

“My WHAT?”

“Your resting asshole face. You don’t realize you’re doing it, but you have this very distinct ‘I’m going to rip your head off and shove it up your ass’ thing going on. And it happens to be extremely attractive and compelling, yet very terrifying and intimidating all at the same time.”

“You make absolutely zero sense.”

“People are scared of you. As soon as they look at you.”

“Millie wasn’t.”

“Millie isn’t scared of ANYONE.”

“You weren’t afraid of me. Were you?”

“I didn’t find anything to be afraid of. You had a nice smile. It’s soft. Gentle, even.”

“I never smiled at you.”

“You most certainly did. Maybe not that big, ‘crinkle the corner of eyes’ smile that you sometimes bust out, but it WAS a smile. When I was out on the porch with Lucy and I looked inside; you were watching me and when you realized I’d caught you, you gave this sweet, little smile.”

“You were imagining things.”

“I was not! I KNOW what I saw. It was a smile.”

“I do NOT have that kind of smile.”

“You do. And I saw it many times after that. In Dhaka, in the hospital when you were recovering, when we were living together…”

“You are so full of shit.”

“You can deny it all you want, but you do have a very distinct and very…likeable…side to you. It’s just that not everyone takes the time to notice it. What’s lying underneath all those scars and tattoos and all the rough edges. They don’t look past all of those things. Either that or you don’t LET them past them.”

“How did we go from talking about Christmas to talking about some weird smile you supposedly saw?”

“I knew you were different. As soon as I saw you. You weren’t like everyone else I’d ever come across on the job. And you especially weren’t like other mercenaries. You had a softness to you. A sadness, even. And humanity. A lot of humanity.”

“And you saw all of this standing in my kitchen in the outback?”

“I’m very observant.”

“You’re on drugs is what you are.”

“I know what I saw. I know what I experienced. Especially during those five days together. And you can deny it all you want, but you ARE different. Then the rest of them. And you let me see that. For some reason.”

“So, for argument's sake, say this stuff DOES exist. Say I do have this weird little smile, and I am different than anyone else and I let you see all of it. Guess it’s because I trusted you.”

“Which is odd, considering you don’t trust anyone. Or BARELY anyone, at least. And you certainly don’t trust them right off the bat.”

“Something must have told me I could. Maybe my instincts said you were good. And I’ve been living off those for years, and they haven’t led me wrong yet. Guess I listened to them.”

Smiling, she wriggles around on the couch until she’s facing him, perching herself on her knees before wrapping her arms around his neck and pressing her body against his. “Your instincts are very wise. And they have very good taste.”

“I swear to God if this is where you call me ‘cute’ for a second time in only half an hour…”

“Actually…” fingernails lightly and loving scrape at the nape of his neck). “...this is where I tell you ‘I love you’ and say ‘thank you for being you’.”

“And now who’s being a sap?”

“Spare me your mouthy bullshit and just kiss me, okay?”

“I’ll get mouthy with you. In all the ways you like best.”

“You’re a pig. Remind me why I put up with you? Why I tolerate your bullshit?”

“Because of the things I can do with my mouth. And my dick.”

“Well, at least you know your strengths and your main selling features,” she teases, yelping when he pinches the sensitive area just below her ribs. And when one of his hands clamps down on her ass and pulls her even tighter against him, her initial laugh quickly transforms into a long, drawn-out sigh; his mouth covering hers laughs in a long, deep kiss that causes her toes to curl and her entire body to shudder.

*****

Her eyes remain closed when he pulls away; smiling when she feels him peck the tip of her nose and then dropping her head into the warm, safe place between neck and shoulder. Content and relaxed in the familiarity of him; the smell that lingers on both skin and clothes, the wall of solid muscle that she lies upon, the warmth that radiates from his body. And the way his hand sneaks up the back of her shirt and his fingers find the small of her back; able to feel the callouses as he repeatedly strokes smooth, pale skin.

“What else were you thinking about? You said ‘stuff’. That’s plural.”

“I don’t know if you want to hear about those things.”

“They have to do with tomorrow, don’t they.”

Nodding, Tyler presses a kiss to her brow. “Yeah…”

“I guess it’s better to talk about it now; we certainly won’t have time once we get out on the street. Is it something to do with the plan? How you’re going to get me out of here?”

“No. I’m confident about that; I’m not second-guessing it at all. I know I can get you out of here. Safely. And to the airport. That’s not what’s eating at me.”

Rolling onto her stomach, she places her forearm across his chest and then rests her chin upon it. “What IS eating at you?”

“Do you think we made the right choice? When it comes to Millie? And sending her with Alcott?”

“You agreed that it was way too dangerous; extracting and transporting Millie and me together. You didn’t even feel comfortable doing it. And when someone with your experience and your skill set admits to not feeling good about something…”

“This isn’t the mercenary side of me talking. This is the regular guy side. The DAD side.”

“And what’s it saying?”

“That it needs to know we did the right thing. That we made the right choice. It’s not like I don’t like the guy; he’s damn good at his job, and we’ve had a pretty decent working relationship. There haven’t been any issues. But this is my kid we’re talking about. My little girl. That I didn’t even know existed until four days ago. And I need to know that we made the right choice. By picking him to look after her.”

“I wouldn’t have talked you into it if I didn’t think he was the best person for the job. I trust him, Tyler. With not just my own life, but Millie’s. And believe me, I don’t trust many people when it comes to her. I don’t hand her over to just anyone. I know how much he loves her, and I also know that he’ll stop at nothing to keep her safe.”

“This is the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do. Just blindly trust someone like this. Especially with something so important. I just found out about her. I just became a dad again. And when I think about something happening to her…”

“She’ll be in great hands. Other than Nik and Yaz and maybe John, Alcott is the only one that I would one hundred percent trust with her. And seeing as the other three people will be busy doing their own thing and it’s a horrible idea to bring her with us…”

“I’ve already lost one kid. I don’t want to lose another one. Especially one I just found out about. I haven’t gotten a chance yet; to really get to know her. She doesn’t even know I’m her dad. What if…?”

“No. No. No,” she scolds, and places a palm over his mouth. “We are NOT playing that game. That is not a road we are going down. That leads to nowhere good. She’s going to be fine. She’s surrounded by people who love her and would do anything to protect her. These people are her family. They’re…”

His eyes darken; fingers curling around her wrist. Displaying more aggression than necessary as he pulls her hand away from his face. “I’M her family.”

“I didn’t mean it like that. I just meant that they’ve known her all her life. Since she was just a little thing, still in my belly. I…”

“At least they got the opportunity. I wasn’t given a choice; whether I wanted to be there or not.”

“And I’ve apologized for that. Many, many, MANY times. And I don’t care if I have to apologize times more. You said it yourself; no one hates me for more than I hate myself.”

“I don’t want you hating yourself. And I don’t want you to keep apologizing. I don’t want either of those things.”

“Then tell me what I can do. Tell me what you want me to say. What you need me to do. Because whatever it is…”

“I want Millie to know. About me. That I’m her dad.”

“And we talked about that. We came to an agreement. That once we were in Australia and things settled and we got her into a routine, we’d sit down with her and…”

“No. That’s not soon enough. I want her to know NOW.”

“Tyler, with everything else that’s going on and everything she’s already been through…”

“Why are you underestimating her? Why aren’t you giving her the benefit of the doubt? When it comes to what she can and can’t handle. You said it yourself; how resilient she is.”

“Doesn’t mean I need to dump more things on her. I know she’s strong and tenacious but…”

“Is that how you see it? That you’re ‘dumping’ me on her?”

“No! Of course not! You’re taking everything I say totally out of context. It’s just big news, you know? It’s life-changing; finding how your dad’s been right under your nose for almost a week. She’s been asking about you…about her dad…for almost two years now. At least twice a week. But considering what she’s been through in the last five days…”

“None of that is my fault. What happened between you and Alessio. You took that job; knowing that Millie would be in direct contact with those people. You knew exactly who they were and what they were capable of, and YOU brought her into that. People talk about how I’d be the bad influence; a mercenary having a kid and putting a target on her back. Yet it wasn’t me; getting her mixed up in this bullshit.”

Esme sighs heavily. “I deserve that. And it’s not like I haven’t accepted the blame. You’re right; I took the job and I put her in harm’s way. But…”

“I came here because I needed to fix someone else’s mess. And I stayed because it WAS you. I could have easily said ‘fuck you’ and left. And a lot of guys probably would have. But I stuck around. Because I didn’t want anything happening to you. Or her. I agreed to put my own ass on the line so the two of you could live to see another day. So I think the least you could is hear me out. When it comes to why I want this.”

“ You’re right; it IS the least I can do. I don’t mean to lessen what you’re going through or how you’re feeling. It’s not intentional. I’m sorry, Tyler. I don’t want to hurt you. I’ve never wanted to.”

“You see how Millie loves me, yeah? I mean, she tells everyone she comes across. That she does. And she goes on and on about the things we do together; about going for pancakes and letting her watch that goddamn, fucking Bluey on my phone and how I didn’t let the bad guys hurt. She even talks about how we have the same favourite ice cream. And how good I am at tucking her in. She calls it a ‘Millie burrito’.”

“She adores you. She loves being with you. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to her.”

“I hate that she tells people I’m just her mother’s boyfriend. And says I’m just here to keep you and her safe and kick some’ asses. And I especially hate it when she calls me by my first name.”

“I know it does. I know it hurts. I can see it in your eyes; every time she calls you Tyler.”

“I have to hold back. With my own kid. I can’t treat her the way I want to. I can’t LOVE her the way I want to. And that’s not fair, Esme. Not when I had to miss four years of her life. Through no fault of my own. It’s not fucking fair, and you know it.”

“You’re right. It isn’t. It isn’t fair. At all.”

“Everything you know about me. Everything you know I went through. Especially when it comes to losing my son and the horrible fucking choice I made. You knew what that did to me. What it STILL does me. And not only did you keep Millie a secret from me, now you’re keeping me a secret from HER.”

“I’m not…”

“We talked about it. About having a family. About how much you wanted to be a mum. And I was more than honest with you about how scared I was. You knew it fucking terrified me; the thought of being a dad again and fucking it all up a second time. But I was willing to do it. I WANTED to do it. With you. And now I get that second chance and I can’t do anything with it. I have a kid I can’t even claim.”

“Why didn’t you say all that right at the beginning? When we first talked about it? Why didn’t you just come right about how you’re feeling and what you’re thinking? We could have come to a different decision. A compromise. Had I known all this…”

“This is no compromise. Not when it comes to her. Not when it comes to MY kid. We have to tell her. It’s as simple as that.”

“For her benefit or yours? Because if you’re thinking solely of yourself, I’m sorry. I can’t agree. I love you. More than I ever thought I could love someone. But Millie comes first. She HAS to. She’s four years old, Tyler. She’s a baby still. And yeah, she’s strong and she’s resilient, but she’s still a little girl. A VERY little girl. And if you just want this because of how you’re feeling…”

“This isn’t just about me. When do I ever think of just myself? Be honest. When have I EVER been like that?”

“Never. You’re probably the most selfless person I’ve ever known. Selfless to a fault, even.”

“I know she’s been through a lot this past week. I’m not denying it. And it’s a hell of a thing she went through this morning. But do you see how she handled that? How quickly she bounced back? By the time she went to bed last night, it was almost like nothing ever happened. She was back to herself. She was bouncing around and telling jokes and fighting me on going to sleep. I mean, I had to read five stories for fuck sake. Before she’d even close her eyes.”

She manages a smile. “I told you she’s stubborn. She’s her father’s daughter.”

“But she’s also YOUR daughter. And all that strength? That bravery? That comes from her mother. You’re not giving her enough credit, Esme. I know she’s only four. But she’s resilient, and she’s smart, and she can handle way more than you think she can.”

“I just don’t want it being too much, you know? Emotionally. I don’t want it to be more than she can handle after everything else. And if I’m being totally honest? Selfishly speaking? It kind of scares of me. How she’s going to react.”

“You’re worried she’s going to be angry. At you.”

She struggles to hold back her tears. “I’m worried she’s going to hate me. For not telling her sooner. For not taking her to meet you before all of this.”

“Hey…” Tyler cradles her face in his palms. “...she’d never hate you. You’re her mum. Look how much she loves you. How much you love HER. You’ve always given her that; she’s always known how much you love her and how you would do anything for her. She’s happy, and she’s healthy, and she’s so fucking smart. She loves the world and everyone and everything in that. That’s because of YOU. How you’ve brought her up. How could she EVER hate you?”

“I lied to her. About you. She’s going to wonder why. She’s going to ask questions. A lot of them. I know her.”

“She’s got questions, and we’ve got answers. We don’t need to hide anything. There’s nothing for either of us to be ashamed of. There’s no deep, dark, dirty secret. The truth isn’t THAT ugly, Me. It isn’t. And I am one hundred percent sure she’ll understand; why you did what you did. And if she hears it from BOTH of us…”

“This is just such a mess. Had I not waited this long to tell her….”

“A little late now, don’t you think? It’s done. I’m here. And we are in one hell of a fucking mess.”

“I’m assuming you mean the job and not THIS.”

He nods.

“So what do we do? What’s the plan? When do you WANT to tell her?”

“As much as I want to tell her as soon as she gets up, I think we need to hold off. Until we get home. And then we do it ASAP. We don’t hold off. No waiting for things to settle or a routine to be put in place. We just do it. Everything else can come later.”

“And we’ll do it together?”

“Took us both to make the baby, yeah?”

“Well, I DID to all the hard work,” she chides. “You merely got your ten minutes of fun.”

“Excuse you? Ten minutes? I’ve been going more than ten minutes since I was sixteen years old. WAY more.”

“What do you want? A cookie? A cake? One that says ‘congratulations, you came inside of me’?”

He smirks. “You really ARE a smart ass.”

“You love my ass.”

“I do. Sometimes a little too much.”

She rests her forehead against his. “I am so sorry, Tyler.”

“For what? Having a great ass? For making me a simp for it?”

“I can’t believe you even know that word.”

“Your slang does eventually get to Australia, you know.”

“I meant I’m sorry for all of this. I’m sorry for leaving, and I’m sorry for not telling you about Millie. I’m sorry for not getting a hold of you a lot sooner; for not having the courage to just bring her to you. You deserved to know. That you were a dad again. You deserved to be there. Through everything. Especially when she was born. And I’m sorry I took all of that from you.”

“I don’t need to keep hearing ‘I’m sorry.’ I KNOW you are. I don’t doubt it for a second. What I need is for you just to let me go off. When I NEED to. You’re my person, Esme. You always have been. And don’t want that changing. So what I need is for you to just let me get all this shit out. And not take it personally when I do.”

“I can do that. It’s kind of hard, though; NOT taking it personally. I’m the one who did all this. Made such a mess of things.”

“And everything’s going to work out. We have been through a hell of a lot worse. If we can get through that THAT? I don’t think there’s much we can’t get past.”

“We need to get through tomorrow first. Before we can even start concentrating on what’s next. And if something goes wrong…”

“You just let me worry about all that, okay? That’s part of my job. Goes along with this whole bodyguard thing.”

“I have to say…” She once more leans her body against his, chin resting on his chest. “...you guard the body VERY well.”

“Is that what the kids call it these days? ‘Guarding the body’? I really need to brush up on my slang.”

“Millie will teach you. She’s four going on fourteen some days. She’ll have you saying ‘sus’ in no time.”

“What the hell does that mean? ‘Sus’?”

“Short for suspicious, I guess. I don’t know. And I don’t ask. She’s four; she doesn’t understand half of what she learns and repeats. Which is why you’re going to have to watch your mouth around her. Or she’s going to have the vocabulary of a drunken sailor by the time she starts school.”

“No one thinks anything of it in Australia. Kids throwing the word ‘fuck’ around.”

“I just rather she not be one of them. Just in case the Wicked Witch of the Mid-West ever does meet her.”

“You don’t want her telling her grandmother to go fuck herself?”

“What I want and what is acceptable are two entirely different things.”

“Just for you, I’ll be on my best behaviour.”

“For you, being on your best behaviour means not getting shot half a dozen times.”

“Well, lucky for you, that’s going to be all behind us. Once this is over, that’s it. I walk away. For good.”

“And you’ll be happy with that? Retiring? From this life anyway?”

“I will. I’ll have everything I need at home. Why risk losing that?”

Smiling, she pecks the tip of his chin. “That’s a very good answer.”

Using gentle fingertips to push strands of hair behind her ears, he cradles her face in his palms; eyes never leaving hers as the pads of his thumbs graze along the tops of her cheeks. “Everything’s gonna be okay. You just have to trust me.”