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slashhinginghasher · 2 years

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Monster ch. 3 - Confession (John Tyler x OFC)

Shorter chapter this time around in an effort to update before the six month mark.

Chapter summary: Confessions are made (or: traumatized gf vs. bf who gets hard when she cries)

TW for discussion of past violent miscarriage in this chapter

Opening quote taken from The Wolf In Your Darkest Room by Matthew Mayfield (another very John Tylerish song)

Read (and comment) on Ao3 here

I am your future

I am your past

I am the secret out at last

You thought you found my limit

But you don't seem to know

No, you don't seem to know

How far I'd go

The old radiator wheezed unhappily in the corner as John circled Ieva’s meager apartment. It was slightly larger than the sad little hole he’d called home back in Texas, but most of that extra space was taken up by the presence of an actual kitchen instead of a mini-fridge and hotplate.

He started in the bathroom, sponging himself clean by the shower and inhaling the delicate florals of her soaps and shampoo. The bathroom cabinet contained a handful of cosmetics and skincare products, which he recognized as nicer than the drug store brands but still cheap. Conspicuously absent was any type of medication, not even a cough drop or an ibuprofen. A personal choice, or a habit forced on her by unsympathetic rehabilitation programs?

John had been tripped up by the spelling of her name. For nearly an entire frustrating week, he’d thought he would need to wait until the Times article was released to find her (Janine had complained bitterly and at great length about Ieva’s no-show in the days after John was abandoned). Thankfully, inspiration had struck, and he soon found himself five years deep in her old high school’s social media accounts. Eventually, he’d found a complete digital copy of the yearbook from her senior year and had been able to proceed from there.

(It was a wonder the incidence of stalking and assault among young people wasn’t higher than it already was. They didn’t just leave gaps; they left chasms.)

Bolts of fabric in various blues, purples, and teals were tacked to the ceiling in the main room, giving the place a faintly underwater feel. A dizzying array of rugs, worn but clean, were scattered across the concrete floor. The entire apartment, in fact, was well kept, albeit a bit cluttered around the corners. That was a pleasant surprise for John, who preferred an orderly home himself; so few people these days appreciated the beneficial properties of a tidy space.

If he’d thought she’d be easy to find once he had the name pinned down, he was sorely mistaken. Unlike her careless peers, Ieva did not appear to have any social media accounts, at least none connected to her real name. The Murphys, when carefully questioned, didn’t even know what state she lived in. She had driven in, which eliminated Hawai’i and probably Alaska, but the entire contiguous United States was hardly a helpful starting point.

John drifted over to the full-length mirror on the wall, sparing a moment’s admiration for the sight of his toned, naked body before crouching to inspect the table of tattooing equipment next to it. The careful organization of it, the bottles of ink and the needles in their little plastic cases, reminded him of his shrine back home. It was easy to imagine her kneeling in front of the mirror, nude and etching her own form of prayer into her skin under the flickering light of the candles that crowded every flat surface of the room like mushrooms. His cock twitched at the thought.

Growing more desperate by the day, he’d searched for her name with increasingly unlikely combinations of words, drawing on every feature of hers he could think of, going ten, twenty pages deep into the search engine results until… at last. A single photo deep in the archives of the webpage for a tattoo convention in Illinois, featuring Ieva half-smiling in a small group of equally inked and pierced people and captioned with the holy grail - the name of a tattoo shop in another city. She went by her initials on the shop website; that was why she hadn’t shown up in his earlier searches. He contacted the rental office that same day to end his month-by-month lease on the caretaker’s house. He gave the Murphys a half-baked excuse about writing inspiration taking him on the road again, and by the end of the week, he was leaving Virginia for good.

The walls of Ieva’s apartment were plastered with drawings on various types of paper, wild scribblings that were too elaborate or detailed to make good tattoos (or so John thought, though he was no expert on the subject). One in particular, hanging at eye level by the bookshelf, caught his attention: a dark, crowded forest with a four-legged creature pacing just beyond the treeline. The animal’s body was silhouetted by the branches of the trees, the only clear detail the sharp white points of its eyes. John felt a prickle on the back of his neck as he studied it. He felt watched. Seen.

He rented a cheap motel room near the tattoo shop. It only took a couple days of careful observation (not stalking) to find her apartment building. Ieva’s neighborhood was bad, the sort of place with trash on the sidewalks and bars on all the windows that weren’t boarded up. John found himself looking into nearby real estate, already planning to move her to a safer neighborhood if she wouldn’t let him remove her from the city altogether. He had planned to case the inside of the building before finally making contact. But when she returned early from work, trudged right past him on the sidewalk without even noticing (why hadn’t she noticed him?), he couldn’t stay away any longer.

He had to touch her.

John had planned meticulously for every possible reaction. Best case scenario: she leapt straight into his arms, admitting that she’d been muddled by the visit with the Murphys but had left him her name as a calling card and had eagerly awaited his arrival, knowing that he’d be able to find her. (Highly unlikely, but a man could dream.) Worst case scenario: she rejected him outright, fought him like his past conquests, and he had to keep her bound and gagged in her apartment before he could smuggle her back to the motel.

He’d expected her actual response would be somewhere in between, and he was right, but felt somewhat hollow in his victory. While the complete physical surrender was appreciated, John had no idea what to do with the sad, unmoving lump of girl that lay curled in on herself on the bed. Ieva wasn’t crying anymore. He had to watch her closely to make sure she was even still breathing.

John sighed and moved to inspect her nightstand when he noticed a flash of red plaid poking out from under one of the pillows on the bed. He fished it out, jealousy twisting his stomach for a moment before turning to electric excitement. It was a man’s flannel shirt. His flannel shirt - he recognized the cuff he’d mended after snagging it on one of the Murphys’ wooden fences. He had a polaroid in his briefcase of Ieva sound asleep in his bed, wearing that exact shirt and nothing else, and now it was here, tucked under her covers like a child’s favorite blanket. Did she wrap herself in it at night? Did she touch herself while wearing it, pretending it was him? God knew the polaroid had provided ample masturbatory inspiration for him over the past weeks.

Riding that swell of confidence, he stretched out beside her. Their combined spend was still glistening on her thighs. John wanted to lick her clean; his mouth watered at the thought. He rolled her onto her back, and they both jolted in surprise when their eyes met. John hadn’t expected Ieva’s eyes to be open with how still she was, and Ieva–

“You’re still here,” she mumbled, almost to herself. “Why are you still here?”

He kissed her lips, dipping his tongue briefly inside, then her chin, then her throat, following the delicate line of her neck downward. She pulled away, shrinking back into the mattress to escape his questing mouth.

“What do you want, John?”

John furrowed his brow at her. Wasn’t it obvious? Was she playing some sort of game?

“You.”

He sucked her nipple into his mouth, giving a teasing almost-bite before releasing it.

“Here.”

The other one now, rolling the tight bud between his teeth.

“Just. Like. This.”

Each word was punctuated with a hot, open-mouthed kiss down her stomach. Ieva squirmed and made sounds of protest as he circled her navel with his tongue, but John would not be deterred now that he was so close to his goal. He was almost panting as he dipped lower, ghosting over her pubic bone, tongue darting out to–

“Stop!”

Ieva kicked out, catching him in the chest. John rocked back on his heels and she scrambled backwards to press against the wall. Her hair was a tangled wreck, eyes wild with a desperate confusion.

“Why are you here? And don’t don’t don’t say you missed me!”

“I want you.”

It really was that simple. John wanted her, and John would have her. She wanted him too, even if she seemed to have temporarily forgotten that fact. She gave him her name, gave him her trauma when no one else was allowed; that meant something. She just came four times in a row on his cock. If he didn’t know better, he’d swear she was trying to anger him on purpose with this ungrateful act. But he did know her better. Didn’t he?

Ieva was shaking her head, frantic.

“Why?!”

“You understand me.”

“No I don’t! I don’t even know you! And if you knew anything about me you would not be here, you–”

Ieva cut off with a yelp as John dragged her off the bed by the arm and threw her bodily into the bathroom, slamming the door shut behind her. He wasn’t quite sure what he intended to accomplish with that, but he needed to think, and he couldn’t do that with those big blue eyes boring into him. He just… he needed a minute, some space to clear his head before he did something he’d regret.

John was excellent at reading people. It was his greatest asset, more so than a handsome face or physical strength. Hell, it was what had drawn Mary Barlow to him in the first place, setting him on the path that led to this apartment and this tragic, perfect girl. Had he really miscalculated so badly? Had he been blinded by a pretty face and a sweet, dripping cunt and started seeing connections where they didn’t exist? Was he wrong?

No. No, what they had was real. He was sure of it. Ieva was just young and scared and didn’t know how to process these feelings. And that was John’s fault, partially: he had taken too much from her without giving in return. Orgasms weren’t a sufficient replacement for honesty. He had withheld information at the start because he was afraid of her rejection, but they had reached a point in their relationship that called for total transparency.

The shower had turned on and then back off while he paced. When he opened the bathroom door with an armful of Ieva’s clothes, she was perched on the edge of the toilet lid, wrapped in a towel and her shivering arms.

“Get dressed,” he ordered, tossing the clothes at her. He pulled on his own clothes without waiting to see if she obeyed. He fetched their shoes from the entryway and rifled through her closet for a coat. Later, he would go through everything again, slowly, taking in every texture and color and pattern, but right now he was single-minded in his mission to move to a more controlled location.

He hoped she wouldn’t take the impending conversation too badly. He hoped she’d understand. But if she tried to run again… well. He could still work with that.

***

“Are you kidnapping me?” she asked in the car.

John smiled faintly and tightened his hands around the steering wheel. He did not answer her.

***

All motel rooms were the same, fundamentally. Sure, the cheap paintings on the walls might be themed to the locale, the linens a different color, the scratchy carpets varying in their shades of brown and grey. But the transience was the same, the sense that you were stepping into a sort of waiting room on the sidelines of your life every time you crossed the threshold. A motel room, for the duration of one’s stay, was a self-contained universe. The events that took place within those walls belonged to the occupants, and them alone.

John slipped the “Do Not Disturb” placard over the doorknob and took his time doing up all the locks. He closed the blinds and turned up the thermostat, holding his hands over the vent until he felt the warm air blowing out. He toed out of his shoes and draped his jacket neatly over the chair next to the little table in the corner.

This was normally the part where the women started to panic, if they weren’t already when he dragged them through the door. Their eyes would dart wildly over the locks on the door and gauge the distance to the window. He let them make a run for it occasionally, catching them with an arm around the waist just before their fingers touched the doorknob or the latch, but not often; it wasn’t worth the risk of a passerby catching a glimpse of the struggle. Sometimes they barricaded themselves in the bathroom, as though the flimsy wooden barrier would prove to be any more than a momentary deterrent. They babbled and swore and pleaded and tried to fight him off with the cheap furniture.

Ieva was doing none of those things. She simply stood in the middle of the room and watched him trepidatiously. There was tension in every line of her posture, the hunched shoulders and folded arms, the nervous fingers and unblinking eyes.

She didn’t look for weapons or exits. She only looked at him.

John found himself uncharacteristically tongue-tied. He knew full well that he was stalling; he wouldn’t have to say the words he was dreading if he never broke the silence in the first place. So instead he did what he had been dreaming of for months, what he wanted to do every day for the rest of his life: he cupped Ieva’s face in both hands and kissed her.

Someone had once told John he was incapable of love. That was patently untrue. He loved that Ieva had to stand on the very tips of her toes to reach him. He loved how the curve of her skull fit in his palms, and how small her hands felt when she grasped at his arms for balance. He loved the softness of her lips, chapped though they were. He loved the taste of her as he massaged her tongue with his. He loved the warmth that suffused every inch of his body in a way that went far beyond arousal whenever she was near. He loved the high color in her cheeks and the tears in her eyes and the fine tremble in her limbs as he reached for the buttons on her coat.

He took his time undressing her, unveiling her so slowly it was like he was seeing her body for the first time. He trailed the pads of his fingers along every bared expanse of skin, desire written in the goosebumps that followed like braille. When she stood before him in nothing but her panties, he stepped away. He pulled his belt free of the loops with a decisive snap that made Ieva jump, then sat against the headboard with his legs stretched out straight before him.

He set the belt on the nightstand in case he needed it, but he didn’t think he would.

“Come here,” he said, patting the bed next to his thigh. His voice was soft, but carried an unmistakable undercurrent of command. As soon as Ieva was within reach, he grabbed her by the hips and lifted her to straddle his lap. The little gasp she let out went straight to his cock, and he had to undo his button and zipper to relieve some of the painful constriction against his erection. Maybe he could fuck her before… No. It had to be done and it had to be done now.

“You never asked me why I was in prison,” John murmured, brushing his thumbs over her nipples. “Not once.”

“You didn’t want me to.” How perfect they were together, that they could read each other so well without words! There was a catch in Ieva’s voice that sounded like she was about to moan or cry. Maybe both.

John caught the sweet scent of jasmine as he trailed his nose along her jaw, nudging aside her still-damp hair.

“I raped fourteen women,” he whispered, letting his mouth brush the shell of her ear, “and I only got caught for two.”

Ieva went statue-still in his arms. John kept his face buried in the crook of her neck, arms around her waist like bands of iron in case she tried to bolt. But she didn’t. She just sat there, rigid and unmoving, and it was killing John to be patient. When she finally spoke, her voice was hoarse.

“If I had fought back,” she said slowly, and she didn’t have to specify when, “would you have hurt me?”

John’s fingers spasmed reflexively against her back.

“Yes.”

Another excruciating beat before she inhaled shakily.

“Do you still want to hurt me?”

“No,” he said immediately. Then, in the spirit of honesty: “Not like that.”

Another woman might have asked what he meant by that. Another woman might have begged him to clarify the ways in which he did want to hurt her, so she could assign motivations, however incorrect, to match the picture of him she held in her head. But Ieva didn’t, because she understood him and she trusted him and she knew that his motivation was - and would only ever be - love.

John felt the muscles of her throat flexing under his mouth, filling him with the need to suck and lick and bite. He was starving for her. He arched his hips up to grind his bulge against her.

And she recoiled.

John snarled, an animalistic sound from deep in his chest. He tried to pull her back in, but Ieva had braced her forearms against his chest and was holding herself apart with a surprising amount of strength. She was no longer looking him in the eye.

He was reaching for the belt when she opened her mouth again, and the expression on her face was so terrible that he immediately stopped.

“There was a girl, back near the end of things. I don’t remember her name. Ruthie. Ruth Anne. I don’t know. I always thought she was so much older than me but now I don’t know if she was even eighteen.” She shook her head. “Anyway. She was fucking Randall, so I saw her a lot. She got pregnant. Was so excited to tell him when it started showing.”

Ieva swallowed hard.

“She was stupid. She was so, so stupid.”

Anger laced through her words, the type of directionless hurt that you never knew whether to aim it at yourself or someone else.

“He was pissed, obviously. He beat the shit out of her. I didn’t see ‘cause I was in my– the other room,” (John did not miss that stutter) “because I was smart enough to stay away from him, but I could hear it. Didn’t think much of it at first because people were always getting knocked around at the Tower. ‘S what happens when you put a bunch of junkies in one place. But she crawled into the room when he was done with her. Had her shirt pulled up and you could see it all red and black and purple where he’d kicked her. And she just kept screaming ‘my baby, my baby, my baby’.”

John could feel Ieva’s nails digging into him through his shirt.

“That’s the only thing she’d say, ‘my baby, my baby’. And she was starting to bleed already between the legs. Off her fucking head, grabbing at her stomach like she could keep the thing in even though we both knew it was too late.”

The tears rolling down her face were mechanical. She didn’t seem to notice them.

“She must’ve been in so much pain. I was coming off a high, twitchy and the whole world hurt and there was this bitch screeching like nails in my fucking head and bleeding all over my mattress. And I hated her. I hated her for making my ears hurt and for ruining my bed because I’d have to start sleeping in the bathtub again after that. I just wanted her to shut up. So I stabbed her in the throat.”

Her voice was strained, starting to break.

“Randall had all the knives and the only thing I could find was this broken old pen. And I had to do it a whole bunch of times, over and over, because I didn’t get it deep enough or I missed the vein. Over and over and over. Whole time she’s shrieking and sobbing and begging me to help her, and there’s so much blood she looks like she’s already been murdered twice. I was so mad I was almost blind with it and I just kept going until the screaming turned into gurgling. And then I just sat there and I watched.”

Her mouth was trembling.

“I should’ve held her hand or something while she died. She was so scared. I don’t even feel bad about killing her but I was so cruel about it. I’m a monster. I should have held her hand.”

Ieva looked up at John and it was like a dam breaking.

“How can you even look at me? I’m filth all over.”

With an agonized wail, she collapsed against his chest.

“Oh, baby,” John crooned, bundling her into his arms. “Sweet girl.”

The endless platitudes were there - you were a child, you were sick, there were extenuating circumstances, it wasn’t your fault, she would have died anyway - but John didn’t say any of them. She wouldn’t want to hear them. He just held her instead, pressing kisses to her hair and making soothing noises while sob after gut-wrenching sob wracked her fragile frame.

This was it then: a window into the thing that made Ieva, Ieva. A massive, suffocating pain that had built itself up inside her so tall and so wide that she couldn’t even fathom having room for something else. Such a heavy burden, carried alone for so long. John was no knight, but he knew that his purpose now, his raison d’etre, was to rescue this girl from her Tower. There would be no castles for people like them, but… His fairytale analogies were running out. A snide little voice in the back of his head that sounded suspiciously like Mary Barlow was whispering about wolves and little red-cloaked girls, but he pushed it away. Fuck everyone’s golden princes and storybook morals. Sometimes beautiful things came from experiences that hurt, and were all the more beautiful for the blackened soil they grew from.

At some point in the evening, Ieva whispered something against the soaking wet patch she’d made on his chest. John couldn’t quite make it out, but it sounded a lot like “Please don’t leave me.”

#john tyler #tell me your secrets #john tyler x ofc #my writing

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chickensarentcheap · 10 months

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Lost and Found- Chapter 24

Fandom: Extraction

Pairing: Tyler Rake and Esme Drummond (OFC. But you do not have to read the others in the series to understand this fic.)

Tagging: @tragiclyhip @secretaryunpaid @youflickedtooharddamnit @themaradwrites @munstysmind @thebejeweledwatercat @fanficanatic-tw @asirensrage @kmc1989 @karimac @theesirenteller @residentdormouse @alisbackalleybbq @ninjasawakenedmystar @arrthurpendragon @ocappreciation @occommunity

Warnings: profanity, (very minimal) gun violence, (brief mention) blood, (minor) physical violence (I mean, the guy's a mercenary, mmmkay)

Link to Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/43179357/chapters/132270193

My tag list is OPEN. Please just let me know if you'd like to be added :)

******

As smoke billows heavily from the garbage room and fire alarms blare, he leads her down the hall; a firm, protective hand on the back of her neck as they blend seamlessly into the steady flow of guests that head for the closest stairwell. Taking an alternate route would have caused too much suspicion; The Continental’s clientele well-versed in how to be deceptive and how to spot those guilty of the same. The majority is immensely loyal to Winston; with eyes that are forever curious and peeled and ears that are always open and lurking for even the smallest hint of trouble.

Drawing attention is the last thing he wants; keeping his rifle pressed tightly against his side as he makes random, mundane small talk with a clearly nervous and fearful Esme. Knowing that his voice -if kept low and steady and reassuring- is enough to calm her down and keep her focused; needing both his presence and the security and the confidence that he’s always been able to instil in her. Using both words and the pressure on her neck to keep her moving; encouraging her to match his slow and steady gait as opposed to adopting anything more frantic and hurried.

The growing crowd notices nothing amiss; intently focused on the reality of their situation as opposed to what others are doing around them. Chattering and grumbling to one another in a mixture of confusion, slight concern, and immense annoyance; questioning the cause of the fire and bemoaning disrupted naps and schedules as they pull on sweaters and overcoats. He never makes eye contact; his hand slipping from the nape of Esme’s neck to the small of her back as he steers her towards the stairwell. Pausing to hold the door open for others; accepting the words of appreciation tossed in his direction and returning them with nothing more than a simple nod. And when the last person begins making their way down the stairs, he lingers briefly on the threshold; waiting until the others are a flight below before turning on his heel and quietly closing the door behind him.

Fishing the lone key from his jacket pocket, he jams it into the control box and turns it all the way to the left; the toe of a filthy, well-worn combat boot rhythmically tapping against immaculate, gleaming marble as they wait for the elevator to reach their floor. Beside him, Esme nervously rocks back and forth on her heels and chews anxiously on the inside of her cheek; her eyes fearful, her complexion a washed out, almost sickly gray. Taking advantage of the lull in activity, he reaches out to gently tug on her hair; shooting her a wink and flashing a brief yet reassuring smile when she glances up at him.

The lift noisily rumbles to a stop, and as the door opens, he moves his hand to the small of her back; applying firm yet gentle pressure as he encourages her to step on, then directs her to stand against the side wall. Out of sight in case an employee beckons the elevator from another floor; wanting to avoid both a confrontation and the chance of her impending departure getting back to Winston.

He shoves the key into the control panel; holding it in place as his free hand activates the two-way radio clipped to his vest. “We’re in the elevator now. Heading to the basement, level one.”

“Copy,” Nik responds. “We’re right behind you; southwest stairwell, seventh floor.”

“Any word from Wick? About the outside?”

“He’s stationed across the street. Taken up position on the roof. His people are here; fire trucks out front, men inside checking the situation, evacuating people. Should make it easier for you to get around.”

“Armoured car?”

“ETA three minutes. It’ll be waiting for you.”

“How much time do I have?”

“Fourteen minutes. Before the hotel’s security system goes back online.”

Esme urgently tugs on his sleeve, whispering: “Ask about Millie” when he glances down at her.

“Have you heard from Alcott? About how things went?”

“They made it safely out of and away from the building. Met no resistance. They’re at the designated spot; Wick will join them once you and Esme are away from the building and you give the all-clear.”

“Millie?”

“I’m assuming she’s fine. Alcott didn’t say otherwise. No news is good news.”

“What about Winston? Any sign of him?”

“Not that I was told. I know that doesn’t exactly fill you with a sense of confidence…”

“I’ll handle him. If I have to.”

“Tyler…”

“We talked about this. You know where I stand. I’ll handle him.” Releasing the comms button on his transmitter, he gives Esme a small yet reassuring smile. “She’s good. They didn’t have any problems getting outta here. They’re a few blocks away, waiting on us to get the fuck out. And to pick up Wick.”

Esme breathes an audible sigh of relief. “I’ve just been so worried about her. She’s just so sensitive, you know? I know she’s tough and resilient, and she’s crazy smart, but she’s still just a little girl. It’s always just been her and I, and it was hard enough telling her that she couldn’t come with us, never mind sending her with someone else.”

“I don’t necessarily like the idea of her with other people, either. But it was the right decision to make; if things go wrong, at least she isn’t around to suffer because of it. And like you said, she’s in great hands.”

“I don’t trust many people when it comes to her. I wouldn’t send her with just anyone.”

“I know. I trust your instincts. And your choices. I wouldn’t have gone along with it if I didn’t.”

“I just didn’t want you to think that I’m neglectful or thoughtless or that I just leave her with random people. I just…”

“I don’t think any of those things. I never would. You did the right thing for Millie. Do you really think I would have gone along with it if I didn’t think that?”

Esme shakes her head.

“Stop doubting yourself. You’re a good mum, Me. You’re an amazing mum. You’ve done right by her. And I know it wasn’t easy; doing it all yourself. There’s no doubting how much you love her. How you’ve devoted your entire life to her.”

“She’s my baby. She became my entire world. And if anything happens to her…”

“Listen to me.” Laying a hand on the back of her neck, he firmly squeezes. “Nothing is going to happen to her. Alcott will make sure of that. She’s safe. And you’ll see her soon. I promise.”

“You’re not worried about her? Or scared or…”

“You kidding? I’m scared shitless. But I know she’s gonna be alright. She’s with people that would do anything to protect her. I wouldn’t have gone along with sending her with them if I didn’t truly believe that. Now…” He re-checks the tightness on her vest. “...what I need you to do is just breathe. Stay calm, keep your eyes and your ears open, and let me know if something doesn’t feel right. Okay?”

She nods.

“You just gotta breathe, Esme. Just breathe and trust me.”

“I do. I DO trust you.”

Patting down the pockets on her coat, he reaches into the left one and removes a black, purple and pink striped beanie. Gently slipping the garment onto her head and then giving her a wink as he tugs it down over her ears. “It’s cold out.”

She manages a smile; briefly leaning her body into his before once again issuing a long, heavy sigh. “Please tell me you’re not going to do what I think you’re going to do.”

“What do you think I’m going to do?”

“You KNOW.”

“What YOU know is that I hate when you talk in riddles.”

“You’re not going to go after him, are you? Winston?”

“Not intentionally.”

“What’s that supposed to mean? You either are, or you aren’t. What…?”

“I’m not going looking for him. That’s not what I’m here for. I’m not going to search the place; hunt him down like a rabid dog. Even if it IS what he deserves.”

“But?”

“If he tries to stop me from getting you out of here, then I’ll deal with him.”

“Tyler..”

“I don’t want to hear it. I don’t want hear about the fucking rules of this place; how they're the only thing separating us from the animals. Or whatever bullshit he likes to preach. And I especially don’t want to hear about The High Table. Those fuckers have caused enough damage and enough problems to last a lifetime.”

“They are not the people you want to piss off. Haven’t you learned that by now? That they’re not the type of people you want to cross? After everything they did five years ago…”

“I already talked to Nik. If it comes to having to kill Winston and live with The High Table on my ass, she and Yaz will make sure you and Millie were kept safe. Taken care of.”

“So we basically just go back to the way things were? You in one place, us in the other?”

“If it has to be that way, then…”

“It doesn’t have to be that way. Five years wasn’t enough? I realize that was all my fault, and I can’t go back and make a different decision; I can’t ever erase what I did or make things right. But we just found each other again. After YEARS apart. And Millie just finally got her dad. And you’re willing to just say ‘fuck it’ and throw all that away?”

“I don’t want to fight. Especially right now. I don’t…”

“I’m not trying to fight. I’m trying to make sense of it. We are so close to having everything we wanted. Everything we should have gotten five years ago. And yet, you’re okay with losing that? For a second time? I don’t…”

“I’m not okay with anything. It’s not like I want to throw it away. It’s not like I love the idea of things going back to the way they were and…”

“You can’t retaliate. I know you’re pissed off; about that sniper coming after you and putting Millie in danger. And I know you hate this weird, gross obsession that Winston has when it comes to me. Believe me, I don’t particularly like the thought of it either. I understand why you’d want revenge. Part of me wants it to. But to go against The High Table and put a target right on your back…”

“I don’t care about me. If it comes down to protecting you…”

“You think it’s caring about me to put yourself in danger like that? Do you think that’s caring about Millie? You think we want you having to spend the rest of your life looking over your shoulder?”

“Don’t I already do that?”

“Trust me when I say this, Tyler: there isn’t anyone you’ve gone against that is as vicious and cold-blooded and unforgiving as The High Table. They won’t just kill you. That’s going easy on someone, as far as they’re concerned. They will make you suffer. They will abuse you and torture you until you’re begging them to put a bullet in your head. Even then, that won’t even be enough. They’ll stop and give you a few days rest and then start all over again. And that will last weeks. Maybe months. Maybe even years. Do you think I want that? Them doing things to you? I already saved you from that shit once. Don’t make me do it again.”

“Don’t threaten me with that. Don’t…”

“I’m not threatening you. I’m begging you. Please don’t go after him. Don’t let him reel in you like that. He wants you to react. He wants you to snap and do something drastic because he knows he can’t bring you down any other way. None of his threats have worked. Offering you money didn’t work. The sniper didn’t get the job done. And he’s not going to get his own hands dirty. He wants you to draw blood on Continental grounds so that The High Table will come for you. How can you not see that? That he will do whatever he has to ruin everything. To ruin YOU. Don’t fall for his shit. You are way too smart for that.”

“I can’t let him hurt you. I can’t let ANYONE hurt you. And if he gets in my way…”

“If you’re not going to think of yourself, at least think of me. And Millie. We NEED you. We’ve always needed you.”

“You’ve already done almost five years on your own. You’re the strongest person I’ve ever known. If you have to…”

“It isn’t about ‘having to.’ It’s about not WANTING to. I don’t want to do this alone anymore. I didn’t want to do it alone the first time! I am begging you, Tyler. Don’t do this to me. To Millie. To US. Please don’t.”

“What am I supposed to do? If he tries to stop us? If he won’t let me take you out of here. How am I supposed to handle that?”

“I don’t know. I don’t…”

“Well, you better figure it out fast.” He glances up at the illuminated numbers above the elevator doors. “Because we have two floors to go and if we step out there without a fucking plan…”

“I don’t know. I don’t…” Briefly closing her eyes, Esme takes in a long, quivering breath. “...I’m just begging you not to kill him. I’m not saying you can’t defend me. Or yourself. He won’t break the rules; he’s not going to draw blood on Continental grounds.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I do know that. He’s not above The High Table. NO ONE is. He breaks one of their golden rules, and they WILL punish him. They will strip him of his management, deconsecrate this place, and allow it to become a bloodbath in here. He knows it, and he won’t even chance it. The power that comes with running The Continental and being in The High Table’s good graces are what matters most to him.”

“You’re sure of that.”

“I’ve spent enough time here…enough time around Winston…to know what he treasures most of all. And it isn’t me. It’s power. He won’t risk losing that. Not even for you.”

“So we just talk it out? What do we do? If he tries to stop us? You better hurry, Esme. Because once those doors open…”

“You just can’t draw blood. You can threaten him. You can rough him up. You just can’t kill him. You find another way to handle things. You’re smarter than you think, Tyler. Way smarter. If anyone can handle Winston and play him at his own game, it’s you.”

“So I’m allowed to at least beat the shit out of him?”

“Within reason. If you start, you have to know when to stop. Don’t cross a line you can’t cross back over. That’s all I’m asking. Because I love you, and I need you. And I’m trying to protect you. So just please…PLEASE…remember who you’re dealing with and what he wants from you. And DON’T give it to him.”

Tyler nods slowly as he considers her words, then lays a hand on the back of her neck and pulls her into him. Covering her mouth with his in a long, deep kiss that lasts until a melodic tone announces that the elevator has reached its final destination. Pulling away, a gloved hand tightly squeezes her neck. g “We’re going to be alright.”

“Stronger together than we are apart.”

“Yeah…” He offers a slow yet shaky grin. “...we are.”

*****

The rifle moves slowly; controlled by a steady and confident grip as it makes sweeping passes over closed doors, hidden alcoves, and empty hallways. The silence within the bowels and dark recesses of The Continental deafening; exacerbating the sound of every breath they take and the brush of their soles against the cement floor. Coming to an abrupt halt when voices puncture the stillness; muffled conversations within the laundry room as employees shut down equipment and prepared to evacuate the building. And when they grow louder and closer, and he hears the faint squeak of an opening door, he mutters a "fuck...fuck....FUCK" and seizes her by the front of her vest; quickly and aggressively dragging her into an alcove. His back pressed against the wall as he pulls her much smaller and lighter body into his; a forearm draped across her collarbone and a hand covering her mouth in order to ensure her silence.

When the threat passes, he issues a sigh of relief; an arm ushering her behind him as they once more continue their journey. Vaguely aware of the hold she has on his jacket; her footfalls light and quiet as opposed to his awkward, shuffling gait. His weight and size proving to be detrimental; creating unwanted noise that seems to echo throughout the basement and bounce off the surrounding walls. And they’re fifty yards away from freedom when it happens; an unmarked door tossed open, followed by cocky, smirking Winston stepping out into the hall.

“You really didn’t think you’d get away with this, did you? That I wouldn’t catch wind of your little plan? That someone wouldn’t give you away? Not very smart, are you.”

“Stay back,” Tyler warns. “Don’t come any closer. Don’t…”

“You came into my home, where you’re certainly not welcome, and proceeded to ignore every rule laid out in front of you. Not to mention disrespected not only me, The Continental itself, but all of those who seek and take refuge here. Just who the hell do you think you are?”

“I’m the one that’s getting Esme out of here. Away from you. Out from under your thumb. It’s over, Winston. She’s not yours to protect. She never was.”

“You seem to forget that if it weren’t for me, she’d be long dead. And so would your child. In fact, that little one would have never even been born. She exists BECAUSE of me. Because I opened my doors to her mother. Because I gave her a safe haven. Which is something you couldn’t do. Something you’ll NEVER be able to do.”

“I’m going to need you to take a couple of steps back. ‘Cause if you come any closer to her…”

“In case you haven’t noticed by now, Mister Rake, you don’t intimidate me. Not in the slightest. I’m not threatened by you, nor am I scared of you. And I certainly don’t respect you.”

“Never thought I’d say this, but we actually have something in common. Because I feel the exact same way about you.”

“You are under MY roof. This is my home. My KINGDOM. Mine and mine alone. I certainly didn’t want you here; your type is never welcome at The Continental. And believe me, I did everything in my power to prevent you from even stepping foot in this city, never mind this establishment. But even I have my limits. My weaknesses. I admit that I DID succumb to her…how should I put this…feminine wiles.”

Esme hurries out from her ‘safe place’; managing half a step before finding herself blocked by his much larger, heavier body. “And what the fuck is THAT supposed to mean?

“Get back,” Tyler orders, using a forearm to once more tuck her behind him. “Don’t engage. Don’t even look at him. Just stay right there and keep quiet.”

“You know exactly what that means,” Winston informs her. “You have an uncanny ability; the gift of being able to manipulate people into doing exactly what you want. A well-placed smile or pout. Those big, dark eyes. That ‘damsel in distress’ air that you so easily adopt. Even those well versed in your true self fall for it; strong, noble men that never crack under pressure, never break a sweat under even the most dire of circumstances. You act shy and coy and sweet and…”

“That’s not true. I’ve never acted like that. Not with you. Not with ANYONE.”

“You’ve made a living…and a very lucrative one at that… doing those very things. Isn’t that why you’re here in the first place? Why you needed my help? My protection? For years you’ve conned the very best; talked and flirted and lied and…if I may be so bold…even whored…”

“Don’t talk to her like that,” Tyler snarls. “Don’t you EVER…”

“... your way into their good graces. Their lives. Their BEDS. How long have you gotten away with it? How many men HAVE you fooled? How many have fallen in love with you, only to have their entire world crumble underneath them?”

“Those were jobs,” Esme argues. “Nothing more. Nothing less. That’s all they were. I never…”

“Never what? Meant to take things that far? Use them in ways that go far beyond your job description? You can’t tell me that Alessio was the first that you devoted so much time and energy to. Eight months. Nearly three-quarters of a year. You became part of his family and even accepted his proposal. You allowed him to raise your daughter, you…”

“He treated Millie like complete and utter shit! Like she was subhuman. He wanted to send her away! To boarding school! A four-year-old! A baby! He…”

“And just who enabled his behaviour? Who allowed him to be around the child? Who was so desperate to have a father in their daughter’s life that…”

“You fucking asshole!” Esme lunges forward; immediately finding herself snagged by the hood on her jacket and aggressively yanked backwards.

“Stop!” Tyler orders. “Just stop. This is what he wants. He wants us to react. Lash out. Do something stupid. So just get behind me and stay there. And don’t say another goddamn word!”

“That’s Millie he’s talking about! My daughter! OUR daughter! She’s just a little girl. A baby. She…”

“He’s using her to get to you. To get to US. Now just get behind me and stay there. And keep quiet. Got it?”

“But…”

“Got it?”

She tearfully nods, then obediently tucks herself behind him.

“You are noble.” Winston addresses Tyler. “I will give you that. Perhaps not the most intelligent, but…”

“I’m only going to tell you once. Get out of the way.”

“So gallant. So eager to protect And so damn devoted. To a fault, even. Do you not see what she’s doing to you? The pattern? Isn’t this how it all began? You protecting her? SAVING her?”

“Winston, back away. Before…”

“Before what?” The older man chuckles. “Before NOTHING. Are you that oblivious? To how you’re being played? Not just once, but TWICE?”

“I’m not taking the bait. I know what you want from me. You want me to snap. You want to be able to paint me as unstable. Unhinged. An unnecessary threat. You want to be able to tell everyone that you acted in self-defence. That I had no reason to act the way I did. You want to be able to kill me; break all the High Tables rules. And then get away with it by making up some bullshit on how it was justified.”

“Maybe I was wrong. Maybe you are more intelligent than I give you credit for.”

“It’s not going to work, Winston. No matter what you say or do. I’ve had much worse said to me. DONE to me. By WAY better.”

“She’s using you, Mister Rake. Just like she used you in Dhaka. She has no morals. She doesn’t care who she hurts. She brings men like you…like US…to our knees. She…”

“You and I? We are nothing alike.”

“We are EXACTLY alike. As much as it pains me to admit it. She’s conned us both. Used us. Manipulated us. Only with you, she got away with it TWICE.”

“You don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about. You know nothing; about Esme and I and what went down between us and Dhaka.”

“Word travels fast in the circle. You should know that by now. You should also know that you’re the laughing stock. Everyone talks about it. About YOU. You may be a hero. You may be a legend. But you’re also a damn fool.”

“I’m only going to tell you once more, Winston. Get out of my way. You either move on your own, or I do it for you. And you don’t want that, believe me.”

“I’ll tell you something else. What happened two days ago? In your room? It’s the last time I hire an outsider. To get a job done. It was simple; I told them who the target was and exactly where to find him. Yet here you are. Standing in front of me. Still breathing. You’re a hard one to kill, Mister Rake.”

“I fucking knew it. As soon as it happened. I knew you were behind it. Why? Of all places to try and take me out, why there? With Millie in the room? She’s a baby. MY baby. Why…?”

“Unfortunately, when it comes to war, there’s always collateral damage.”

The rage is overwhelming. All consuming. And in one quick movement, he drives the butt end of his rifle into the side of Winston’s face; the older man roaring in both surprise and pain as he drops into a bloody heap. Blood thunders in his ears as he tosses the weapon aside and then stalks towards his prey; placing a knee in the middle of the other man’s chest as he changes his method of attack. Restoring to using his fists; raining punches down on Winston’s already battered head and face. Oblivious to Esme's initial orders and then her desperate pleas for him to stop; ignoring her as she attempts -in vain- to pull him away. Unable to control either strength or aggression, he pushes her away; causing her to lose her balance and fall heavily onto her rear in the middle of the dirty floor.

“Tyler! No!” As he reaches for his rifle, she scrambles to her knees and then her feet; rushing towards him in a frantic attempt to yank the weapon from his hands. Both arms wrapping around one of his as he places the muzzle against Winston’s forehead, finger poised on the trigger. “Tyler! Stop! Please don’t do this! Don’t…!”

“Just step away, Esme. That’s all you gotta do. Just step away.”

“Please don’t,” she tearfully pleads. “You don’t want to do this. It’s not worth it. HE’S not worth it.”

“You heard what he said. It WAS him. That tried to kill me. Millie was right there. She was in the room. That sniper aimed right at her.”

“Tyler, this isn’t what Millie would want. You kept her safe, yeah? You made sure nothing happened to her. You SAVED her. She’s alive because of you. And she’s waiting for us. She’s waiting for YOU. Her dad. She needs you, okay? She’s always needed you. And I’m sorry that I didn’t make that happen. That I kept her from you. I’m sorry that I hurt you. I never meant for it to get this far.”

“You have nothing to do with this. With HIM. So just step away and…”

“You and Millie just found each other. After all this time. You get to be a father again. And she finally gets her dad. The one she’s been asking about. Don’t rob her of that, okay? Don’t rob her of you. I already did. Don’t you do it to her, too.”

“Esme…”

“I can’t let you do that to her. I just can’t.”

“He deserves it. For him to have his head fucking blown off..”

“Maybe he does. But I don’t want you to be the one who does it. We are so close. To having everything we ever wanted. Please don’t throw that away. Please don’t throw ME away.”

Initially pressing the muzzle harder against Winston’s head, he finally relents, index finger slipping off the trigger as he backs away. And while Winston stumbles to his feet, Tyler once more takes hold of Esme’s hand and guides her behind him.

The older man smirks; using his tie and the sleeve of his suit jacket to clear the blood and sweat from his face. “You realize you just signed your death warrant. Both of yours, for that matter. You drew blood on Continental grounds. That’s rule one: no business is to be conducted on company property.”

“Just let us go, Winston,” Esme attempts to reason with him, struggling to remain calm despite the hammering in both chest and head. “It doesn’t have to go any further than this. It doesn’t have to escalate. Just let us go.”

“You know that can’t happen. It WON’T happen. I was never going to let either of you escape. The child, yes. She has many people who love her. Who will gladly step up and take care of her in your absence.”

“You’re going to kill both of us? Is that it? That was always your plan?”

“I’m not going to kill you. Why would I waste such a wonderful, beautiful asset? I’m not a stupid man, Esme. Don’t treat me as such.”

“When I told you I was hiring Tyler, and you agreed to let him into The Continental, you told me you’d let us go. That we’d be free to just walk out of here. You PROMISED me.”

“Well, you see, my love, like you, I too have to lie from time to time. To get my way.”

“You’re fucking crazy. Why would I ever stay here with you? Why would I want to? Especially after all of this. You think I’d just forgive you? For everything you’ve done? For keeping my daughter from me? For killing Tyler? You think I’d just learn to be okay with all of that?”

“I can have your daughter brought back. At any time. All you have to do is ask nicely and…”

“And do as I’m told? Is that what you were going to say? All I would have to do is be a quiet, obedient, submissive little thing, is that it? Play along? Be a trophy for you; someone you could parade around? Show off? Feed your ego? Cure your limp dick? Is THAT what you were going to say?”

“You are a feisty one. Always have been. I can give you a life. A very good one at that. You’ll never want for nothing. There’s nothing I can’t give you. Why won’t you let me do that? Give you the world? Why…?”

“I would rather put a bullet in my fucking brain than spend another minute here with you.”

“You’ll learn to love it. Life here. Where you’re safe.”

“I’m not staying here. So you’re going to have to kill me, too. Because I’ll do it myself. I’ll find a way. I will NOT be some toy for you.”

“But you’ll be one for him? Some ‘no one’. You’ll accept a life with THAT? Over one with me?”

Esme remains defiant. “I’d rather be his whore than your wife.”

“You really would choose him? An alcoholic, drug-addicted mercenary who abandoned his dying child?”

“Don’t talk about him like that.” Her hand disappears underneath the hem of her jacket; fingertips brushing against the handle of the Glock. “Don’t EVER talk about him like that. Don’t even say his name.”

“I don’t know who is more blind. Him or you. He can’t see what you’re doing to him, and you can’t see him for who he truly is. A nobody. No more than some two-bit thug who…”

“Winston, I am warning you. DON’T talk about him like that.”

“You’re more foolish than he is. You realize that, don’t you? The fact you would turn down a life with me for a pathetic, miserable existence with him? He doesn’t deserve you. Don’t you see that? He’ll never change. This is who he will always be. He’ll never give this up. This life. Not for you, not for your daughter. You can’t change him. You can’t save him. No matter how desperately you want to.”

Slipping the gun from its holster, she removes it from under her coat before either man has a chance to stop her.

Winston gives a mocking chuckle.. “And what are you going to do with that, little one? What…?”

“It’s not what I’m going to do. It’s what YOU’RE going to do.”

“And that would be?”

“You’re going to let us out of here. You’re going to keep your promise. Or I will put a bullet in your fucking skull.”

“You’re bluffing.”

“Like I told Alessio earlier. I don’t bluff.”

Behind her, the doors to the kitchen swing open, and she quickly pivots; training the gun on the figure that strides into the hallway.

“Miss Drummond,” Both Charon’s voice and eyes are soft. Reassuring. Kind. And he holds his hands up in a plea for peace, signifying to both Esme and Tyler that he poses no threat. “If you would be so inclined as to hand me your weapon.”

“I can’t. Not unless he lets us go. He’s going to kill Tyler. And keep me here. Away from Millie. He’s…”

“He’s going to do no such thing,” Charon assures her and slowly reaches for the weapon; giving a calm, gentle smile as he gingerly plucks it from her hand. “You’re safe. You’re BOTH safe. No ill is going to come to either of you.”

“But he said…”

“What he said doesn’t matter. Nothing is going to happen to you. Either of you. You’re going to walk out of here. Together. And you’re going to be reunited with your little girl. Very soon.”

“It was him, you know. That hired that sniper. To kill Tyler. He didn’t care that Millie was there. She could have been killed, too. And he didn’t even give a shit. That’s my little girl. My baby. And he didn’t even care.”

“I know. Of his involvement. The news of such I didn’t learn until this morning. But she is safe now. She’s away from here. This place. This life. And if you want to see her again…”

“It’ll never happen,” Winston interjects. “My people are already on their way. They’ll be here in minutes. So I suggest…” He glances at Esme, then at Tyler. “...that if you have anything to say to each other, you do it now. Or you won’t get the chance.”

“There is NO ONE coming,” Charon informs him. “There is no cavalry.”

“I called them myself.”

“As did I. After you hung up. It’s been called off. And they’re free to go.”

“You can’t make that decision. You…”

“No. But The High Table can. You’re not the only one with friends in power, sir.”

“You’re lying. You’re…”

“I NEVER lie. You should be expecting a visit from The Adjudicator. The High Table was very concerned that you hired someone to do business on Continental grounds. Not even you are above the rules.”

“First Jonathan, now you? Charon, how could you? Betray me like this? After everything we’ve been through. The years we’ve spent together. The battles we faced. All the things I’ve done for you. And THIS is how you repay me? This…”

“THIS is the right thing to do. Now…” He regards Esme over the top rim of his glasses, then holds out the Glock. “...you can be trusted with this? Rule number one…”

“I can be trusted.”

“Good. Now I suggest you leave. The way you have planned. I will meet up with you. At the airport.”

“You’re coming with us? Why? Why are you…?”

“I’m merely tagging along. To make sure you get to your destination. Safely. But if something does happen in the meantime…” Cradling her face in his palms, Charo presses a kiss to each of her cheeks. “...it has been a pleasure, Miss Drummond.”

As tears well in her eyes, she stands on her tiptoes and embraces him tightly. “Thank you. Not just for this. For EVERYTHING”

“I have very much enjoyed your company. And your friendship.”

Shouldering his rifle, Tyler plucks the Glock from Esme’s hand and slips it into the waistband of his pants, then wraps an arm around her shoulders and draws her tight against him. He gives Charon an appreciative nod. “Thank you.”

“We will see each other soon, Mister Rake.”

“I hope so.” He begins leading a trembling and terrified Esme away. “I really fucking hope so.”

******

As an armoured SUV waits for them outside the shipping and receiving, Tyler’s eyes quickly scan the immediate buildings for any sign of trouble; any figures lurking in open windows or within the shallow recesses of doors. And when he’s certain it’s safe, he jumps off the platform and then turns to assist Esme. His arms outstretched and waiting for her to make her move; easily and effortlessly catching her and then placing her on the ground. Holding her securely by the wrist as he pulls her in the direction of the vehicle; opening the door with one hand, the other shielding the top of her head from coming in contact with the frame. And he waits until she buckles herself in before shutting the door and hurrying for the driver’s side; slipping behind the wheel and throwing down the overhead visor, allowing the keys to fall into his lap.

“Well…” He guns the ignition. “...that went to shit.”

Esme attempts an apology. And an explanation. “I’m sorry. He just knew exactly what buttons to push. First talking about Millie, then about you. I just couldn’t take it. I couldn’t hear another word. He just kept going and going, and I just snapped and…”

“What did I tell you? About listening to me? About never second-guessing a goddamn thing?”

“I just couldn’t listen to it. As if admitting to being the one to hire the sniper wasn’t enough…”

“Esme, I told you to stay quiet. To not engage with him. And I didn’t tell you just once. I told you multiple times. To just shut up and get behind me and let me do my job. Why don’t you listen to me? Why can’t you just do what you’re told? Why…?”

“He just got to me. It was just too much. I can usually handle what people say about me. And I don’t really care that he called me a whore and…:

“I sure as hell fucking cared.”

“...and accused me of being a liar and manipulator. Because I WAS those things. When it came to the job. I DID do those things. I did lie, and I did manipulate people.”

“It was always a means to an end. You did what you had to do. It was work. That’s it.”

“He said the exact same things Gaspar did. About me. About US. About how I used you to get out of Dhaka. And that’s not true. I didn’t lie to you, and I didn’t manipulate you. And I didn’t use you.”

“I know that. I…”

“Everything that happened between us, everything we said to each other, everything we planned? It was all real. Every second, every word. None of that was fake. And for TWO people to insist on it?”

“If I didn’t believe it then, what the hell makes you think I’m going to believe it now? I don’t give a fuck what Gaspar said. And I sure as hell don’t give a shit about anything that came out of Winston’s mouth. I was there too, Esme. In Dhaka. In that hotel room. And it all felt real. It never felt anything BUT real.”

“I just wanted to make sure, that’s all. That you know that none of what Winston said is true and that….”

“Esme, I KNOW. I’ve ALWAYS known.”

“And then when he started in on Millie and then you…”

“Listen, as much as I would love to be able to just sit here and unpack all of this with you and assure you that everything is okay…that WE’RE okay…I can’t do it. Maybe later, but not right now. I need to get us the fuck out of here. Away from this place and out of this city. Out of this COUNTRY. So I’m going to need you to let this shit go. For now. Okay?”

She nods.

“I also need you to toe the fucking line. Because back there? With Winston? That almost ended very badly. And I don’t want to have to deal with something like that again. So, please…I am begging you…listen to me. Do as I say. Got it?”

Tears well in her eyes as both chin and lower lip tremble. “Got it.”

“And please don’t do that. Cry. Because I can’t deal with that right now. I can’t be who you need me to be when you’re this upset and close to freaking out. You hired me to do a job, yeah?”

She nods.

“Then let me do it. Or we are NOT going to get out here. Cooperate. Please.”

“I will. I just…”

“No more. No more talking about this. Just sit there and be quiet and…” His words trail off as his SAT phone vibrates within the confines of the inner pocket of his jacket. And he mutters a ‘fuck me’ as he pulls it out and jams an index finger into the ‘talk’ icon.“What?!”

“Where the hell are you?” Nik inquires. “We’ve been waiting here. At the rendezvous site. Where…?”

“I got a little held up.”

“A little?”

“We’re on our way now. Be there shortly.”

“You’re fifteen minutes past the deadline. Of when the security systems came back on line. Why haven’t you been answering me? On your radio? Did something happen to it or…?”

“I turned it off. In the basement.”

“Tyler…”

“Look, we had an issue, alright?”

“What kind of issue?”

“One I don’t have time to explain. I’m trying to fucking drive!”

“Do I need to remind you who's in charge? Who your boss is? Who gives you orders and signs your paycheck? Do I..?”

“Fuck off, Nik!” He barks, then hangs up and tosses the phone onto the dashboard; unleashing a host of profanities when it bounces off and falls to the floor at Esme’s feet.

Chewing anxiously on her bottom lip, she glances over at him, then down at the cell. And she strains against her seat belt as she leans over to pick it up; placing it in the hands-free holder clipped to the dashboard.

For several minutes, they remain in silence as they make their escape; grateful for the clear and easy path created by the slew of emergency vehicles provided by Wick’s men. To the untrained eye, the FDNY badges and logos seem legit; boldly plastered on the handful of engines and SUVs that not only keep the street directly in front of The Continental car and pedestrian free, but have succeeded in closing down all intersections within a three block radius in each direction.

The closer they get to their meet-up point, the more steady and confident his nerves become. With the confrontation with Winston now pushed onto the back burner, it makes room for cautious optimism; allowing himself to think of not only being reunited with Millie, but of finally being able to start his life -as a partner, soon-to-be husband, and a father- in his homeland. He’s anxious to share the things he loves with his little girl; already dreaming of teaching her to surf and taking her camping and fishing and dirt bike riding. Witnessing as she thrives and grows and gets accustomed to life ‘down under’; making friends and falling in love with the people and the wildlife and taking on an accent.

It’s those thoughts that release the last of the tension in his shoulders and jaw, feeling remarkably lighter as he glances over at Esme; watching as she nervously chews on the inside of her cheek and fidgets with the ties on either side of her hat. He regrets how harsh he’d been with her; the aggression he displayed, and the way he’d barked at her and ordered her around. Lowering himself to reprimanding her as if she were nothing more than a petulant child.

Dropping one of his hands from the steering wheel, he gently sweeps dirt and debris off the thighs of her jeans. “You’re not hurt are you?”

She glances over; a quizzical frown knitting her brows together.

“I didn’t mean to push you as hard as I did. I just meant to get you out of the way. I didn’t…”

“It wasn’t THAT hard. You didn’t hurt me. I just lost my balance. I…”

“That was a pretty hard fall. I didn’t…”

“Tyler…” She grabs a hold of his hand before he can remove it from her leg; managing a smile as she tightly squeezes. “...I’m fine. Honest. Remember when I talked about being thicker too?”

“Oh fuck, not this again…”

“Most of that thickness is in my ass. I didn’t feel a thing.”

“Well, for what it’s worth, it’s just made your ass even better. And it was pretty awesome before, so…”

“And you excuse me of unprofessional talk?” she teases. “Aren’t you supposed to be the mature and sensible one in this situation?”

“Fuck mature and sensible. You talking about your ass being thicker? All I can think about is that saying. About ‘more cushion for the pushin’.”

“You are nothing if not predictable,” she chides and releases his hand. “I KNEW as soon as I mentioned my ass, your mind would go there. Right into the gutter.”

“I was a total prick back there. I didn’t…”

“You weren’t. You…”

“No. I was. I shouldn’t have talked to you like I did. You didn’t deserve that. You…”

“You had every right to. I haven’t exactly been the most cooperative client, have I?”

“You’ve been a challenge. I thought maybe the last five years might have calmed you down; gotten you over that whole ‘I listen to no man’ stage.”

“If it makes you feel any better, I tend to listen to you more than other men.”

A grin tugs at the corners of his mouth. “That’s not saying much.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t listen to you. That I just didn’t shut up and do what I was told. I didn’t exactly follow my own advice, did I? About not letting Winston get under our skin.”

“No, you did not.”

“Like I said, I don’t really care what people say about me. I’ve been called way worse by way better. But when he brought up Millie and then started threatening you and talking all kinds shit about you…”

“I’m a big boy, Esme. I don’t need you to protect me.”

“That’s bullshit, and you know it. You DO need me. In more ways than you’ve ever been willing to admit. I may not be able to protect you the same way you do with me, but I can still have your back. Defend you. Take care of you.”

“And I’m still going to tell you that you don’t need to.”

“We’re going to have to come to some sort of impasse, Tae. Because…” She pauses when she sees the slow, almost boyish grin that spreads across his face. “...what? What’s that little smile for?”

“Nothing. I just haven’t heard you call me that in a long time. I missed it.”

Smiling, she reaches out and rubs his thigh, then squeezes his knee. “I missed saying it.”

“You gotta promise me that you’ll try and rein it in. How much you worry about me. Want to take care of me.”

“You know that’s impossible. It’s just who I am. Who I’ve ALWAYS been. When it comes to you. I’ve always cared too much and worried too much. That’s not going to change, you know. So I think we’re going to have to agree to disagree. About whether or not you need to be protected or not.”

“As long as you promise you won’t go too Mother Hen on me. You know I can’t handle it when you start that babying shit.”

“You are so full of it. You like it when I baby you. I mean, who else is going to put up with you when you’ve got the man flu? You’d probably drive other women completely crazy. They wouldn’t know how to handle you. You’d break them for sure.”

“Well, your sister always was amazed about how I managed to never break YOU in half.”

“I’m made of tough stuff, I guess. Momma didn’t raise a quitter. Or a coward." Yanking off her beanie, she smoothes down her hair and fixes her ponytail. “Did you know? About Charon? That he was part of all this?”

“All I knew was that Nik had someone on the inside. Who got her the blueprints of the hotel, security codes, and all kinds of info. I never would have thought it would be him, though.”

“What do you think made him turn? Against Winston?”

“You heard him; he said it was just the right thing to do. What happened the other day probably pushed him over the edge; the sniper even going after Millie.”

“You never told me that. That they intentionally targeted her.”

“I didn’t see a need to. There was no reason to upset you more than you already were.”

“That must have been terrifying. It’s one thing for people to come after you; you’re used to it. But for them to go after her?”

“I handled it. I did what I had to do. To keep her from getting hurt. But if I ever find exactly WHO pulled that trigger…”

“I give you full permission to shoot them in the head. After you torture them. Slowly and extremely painfully. Do you think he’s going to be okay? Charon? Winston isn’t going to take this lying down; he’s going to view it as a massive betrayal.”

“Winston isn’t dumb enough to try anything. Charon’s got The High Table on his side. Which means, in some weird, fucked up way, they’re on our side too.”

“Better than having to worry about them coming after us. Let’s just hope we never have to call in any favours. Rely on them for anything. Because if I ever have to resort to THAT…”

It happens quickly. Leaving no time to time to react or prepare for impact. The roar of an engine, the glare of headlights cutting through the thin veil of fog, the screeching of brakes. Safety and security suddenly and brutally ripped away; bodies violently jostled within the confines of the SUV as horns blare, glass shatters, and metal crunches and crumbles.

And then, silence.

#Tyler and Esme series #Tyler Rake #Tyler Rake fanfic #Tyler Rake fan fiction #Extraction #Extraction 2 #Extraction fanfic #Extraction fan fiction #Chris Hemsworth #Tyler Rake x OFC #Esme Drummond #Esme Rake #Extraction/John Wick crossover

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thatfanficstuff · 29 days

Text

Not About You - 44

Damon Salvatore x OFC

Lucy's head spun as they came to a sudden stop. "Stay here," Elijah ordered as he left her by a large tree. He took Klaus further away before dropping him. Once his heart had been released from his brother's grip, Klaus immediately began completing the transition that had been interrupted earlier. She held her breath as his body contorted and bones snapped. She hadn't been that frightened of him before, not really. But, now he was an Original hybrid and he was going to be furious with her.

Elijah wiped the blood from his hands with his handkerchief as he made his way back to her. "I am sorry, Lucy. But if my family lives, I must find them."

She raked a hand through her hair. "I'm not going to fault you for letting your brother live, Elijah. I was only involved in this mess for you in the first place. You should know, however, that I took actions based on the belief that he wouldn't be around to retaliate."

He tilted his head to the side and his gaze narrowed. "If it were any other vampire, I would tell you to run while I handled it. But it will be better to face Niklaus head on. He tends to hold a grudge otherwise.”

A howl cut through the night air and they jerked their heads toward the sound to find a large black wolf staring at them. Or, more precisely, at Lucy. Elijah moved until he stood between her and the wolf. "Now is not the time, Niklaus.”

Klaus stood there a moment more before turning and running off into the night. "I cannot lose sight of him," Elijah said before following. Not having any idea where she was, Lucy sighed and trailed after.

***

Damon threw his glass against the wall next to the fireplace. "Why the hell did he take Lucy?" It shattered with a resounding smash and broken pieces littered the ground.

Stefan sighed as he moved to clean up the shards. "Feel better?"

"No, not really. I need to find my girlfriend and that deranged hybrid her uncle ran off with."

"Well, Bonnie is still recovering from using so much magic. You're going to have to be patient," Stefan told him.

"I'm afraid that's not going to work out so well for me, brother."

Stefan frowned. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Damon rolled up his sleeve and turned his arm so Stefan could see the bite mark. "Tyler Lockwood nipped me."

"Why didn't you say anything?"

He shrugged. "I didn't think I needed to. Elijah was supposed to kill Klaus. I could have just sipped some hybrid blood and there'd be no reason to worry."

Stefan straightened his suit jacket. "Caroline and I are going to pick Elena up for John's funeral. Are you coming?"

Damon arched a brow. "I hated John Gilbert. Why the hell would I go to his funeral?"

Stefan shrugged. He was only going to accompany his girlfriend who was only going because it was expected.

Damon shook his head. "I need to keep looking."

Stefan nodded once and wished him luck before walking out of the house with Caroline tucked under his arm. Damon pulled his phone out and dialed Lucy's number for what felt like the hundredth time since the ritual. Once again she didn't answer. Where the hell was his girl?

He tossed his phone onto a nearby table and grunted as pain flared through his arm. He turned it so he could see the wound. What had started as a small, barely there bite now festered and throbbed. Clenching his teeth together, he opened the drawer in a small table and pulled out paper and a pen.

If he didn't find Lucy in time, there were some things he needed to say.

***

"Are you still not speaking to me then?" Elijah leaned against the trunk of a tree as they watched Klaus sleep.

Lucy scowled at her uncle. "What do you want me to say, Elijah? Did you want me to be thrilled that you dragged me out here? My phone is dead. You refuse to allow me to use yours. Damon is probably going insane with worry. I've spent the past two days helping you clean up your brother's messes. The brother who will undoubtedly try to kill me the first time you're not around by the way."

"Yes, about that..." Elijah said shooting her a questioning look. "I hardly think you trading out Niklaus’ sacrifices is the betrayal you seem to feel it is. He still completed the ritual. I believe you are worrying needlessly."

"It's not what I did. It's how I did it." She grimaced as she thought about the kiss and that devastated look on Klaus’ face when the others had shown up.

Before her uncle could respond, his brother woke and pushed himself off the ground as he looked around. Elijah threw clothes at him. "You've been busy.”

Lucy walked a short distance away and turned her back. She preferred not to see full frontal Klaus if she could help it. She kept an ear on their conversation.

"That was amazing," Klaus responded. "How long has it been?"

"Almost two days. The full moon came and went, yet you remained a wolf."

"I can change at will then. Good to know. I remember every single kill." Klaus sounded pleased.

"Yes, I've been cleaning up your little mess along the way," Elijah told him. "Or should I say, we have."

Lucy grimaced but took that as her cue to turn around. While the hybrid still wasn't fully clothed, at least he'd put on pants.

He gave her a half-smirk but she could see the hurt and anger in his eyes. "Lucy. I didn't expect to see you here, love. Looking for another chance to betray me?”

She crossed her arms over her chest and looked at the ground. "I did what needed to be done. That should be familiar to you."

He hummed and she glanced up to find him studying her intently.

"This can wait, Niklaus. We had a deal," Elijah said, drawing his attention.

"Yes, brother. You wish to be reunited with our family. I will see to it shortly." He finished dressing, his gaze kept drifting over to Lucy. She forced herself to stand her ground. After Elijah helped him with his jacket, Klaus turned. "Has she been out here with you the whole time?" He indicated Lucy with a nod of his head.

Elijah pursed his lips. "Of course."

Klaus smiled at the two of them and started moving through the trees. "Shall we?"

Lucy frowned. Why did everyone have a better sense of direction than she did? She trudged behind them, looking at her feet more than anything else. She just wanted to go home. She wanted Damon.

Klaus' hand wrapped around her upper arm and Lucy jumped. Fear flooded through her as she glanced over at him. "Can't have you disappearing on me before we have our chat, can we, love?"

She didn't even try to fight him. He was infinitely stronger than her. There was no question of that.

"Niklaus, I find it pertinent to remind you that I consider Lucy family. You will remember that."

"Of course, brother. I wouldn't dream of harming our little Lucy."

If anything the words only made her feel more terrified. It wasn't long before they arrived at Alaric's apartment. "Let me get cleaned up and we'll take care of our business," Klaus said as he opened the door.

Lucy gasped in surprise as she spotted Stefan searching through things in the apartment. Klaus followed her gaze. "Well, you just keep popping up, don't you mate?"

"I need your help." Stefan’s gaze darted between Klaus and Lucy. Something was seriously wrong, she could tell.

"You'll have to wait a moment. I have other business to see to." He finally released his grip on Lucy and she barely resisted the urge to rub her arm.

Stefan ignored the Mikaelsons and made a beeline to her. "Are you okay?" he asked in a low voice. "Damon's been freaking out."

She nodded. "My phone died. How is everyone else?"

He glanced at the floor than back up before licking his lips. "Tyler Lockwood bit Damon."

Lucy sucked in a breath as panic shot through her. "What? Is he all right?"

"Is everything okay, Lucy?" Elijah asked taking a step in their direction.

"You have your own problems to be concerned with, brother.”

Elijah spun and Klaus buried a dagger in his brother's chest. Lucy closed her eyes against the sight of her uncle's face turning gray once more. If only she could close her ears against his sounds of pain. She knew he would wake once the dagger was removed, but that didn't make it any easier to witness. After his body fell to the floor with a thud, Klaus turned to the two of them. Stefan stood slightly in front of Lucy as if trying to protect her. She grasped his hand with both of hers and he squeezed back in comfort.

The hybrid prowled across the floor and his gaze darted between the two of them before settling on Stefan. "Now, what can I do for you?"

"Damon was bitten by a werewolf," he answered with a tight jaw. Lucy felt slightly relieved. He wouldn't have come for Klaus's blood if Damon was already dead.

"And thanks to my lovely brother, you lot are aware my blood is the cure." Annoyance colored his words. "And why should I help you? What's in it for me, as they say?" He hooked his hands together behind his back and looked at Lucy. "It would seem things would be much simpler for me if Mr. Salvatore was out of the picture."

Lucy pushed her way past Stefan and looked up to meet Klaus's gaze. "What do you want, Klaus?"

He studied her for a moment before letting the back of his hand run down the side of her face. "It seems you and I have been here once before though it was Elijah negotiating for your life. But you see, Lucy, this time it's not you that will have to pay the price." His hand suddenly cupped her chin tightly, holding her head in place as he stared into her eyes.

She struggled briefly and then froze as his eyes locked onto hers. "And why should you? After all, Damon Salvatore is nothing more than your friend. Has never been anything more and never will be. Despite any feelings he might carry for you, you don’t return them. Why would you? After all, you love me. Have since the first time you saw me. Isn't that right, love?"

Lucy blinked wondering why Nik was holding her this way. She hooked a hand around his wrist. “Of course. You know I love you.”

He smiled. "And you are going to be a good girl and do whatever you can to please me. Aren't you?"

He released her completely when she nodded. She slid her arms around his neck and frowned at him. "What's with this all of a sudden?"

His hands found her waist as he gave her that dimpled smile she loved so much. "Just feeling a little insecure I suppose, love."

"You have no reason to.” She hugged him tightly, her gaze falling on Stefan as she did. She wondered what had caused his horrified expression.

#vampire diaries fanfiction #damon salvatore x ofc #damon salvatore fanfiction #damon salvatore x oc #series: not about you

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artemiseamoon · 2 years

Text

Completed fics (so far)

Summer 2022 onward

Follow @artemiseamoon-updates and subscribe on A03* Registered users

There are older finished fics too, pre summed 2022, Just look at my masterlist.

If this is our destiny | Mayans | Angel, f reader, Manny

The longest ride | SOA | bad boyfriend Jax Teller x ofc ft Jon Bernthal as an omc

The world we no longer know (via Sideblog) | TWD | Shane Walsh, Ofc, Rick Grimes +

Nostalgia antiques (bonus chapter added) | Prospect 2018 | Ezra x f reader

Chasing the moon | Mandalorian | Mando, grogu

Back to Start | TF | Family man Frankie x family x ofc

A little bit of hope | TF | ex Santi, omc (fc Ben Barnes) , f reader

Nocturna Sanguine | Original w/ Ivar (Vikings) Roman (Hemlock Grove) and Kat Graham as my oc

After this is over | Narcos Mx | Smash & Grab crew, Walt, Calderoni, Slate (oc)

A lighthouse in the dark | triple frontier | Amara x Will, the guys

Milk & Honey | vikings | werebear Bjorn x ofc

Flirting with Danger | narcos mx | Ramón x rc

The barmaid & the Spaniard | Pero Tovar x rx

Outshine the sun | TF| Frankie Morales x ofc ft Benny

Neptunium | Vampire John Wick x f reader

Under a Golden sun | Benny Miller x f reader | omc x f reader

Wisteria & Moonlight | Werwolf! Will Miller x Ofc (ft Benny & more)

Elysian | Soulmate AU , Ezra x ofc

Stay in the light | Pitch black au | Johns x ofc

A place to call home | Isabella Bautista x ofc (narcos mx)

When the lights go out | Lights out | Omar Assarian x f reader

Sin | Narcos Mx | Bi! Pacho x f reader, Miguel x f reader

The Edge of Dawn | Donald Pierce x Brandi Cross (Ofc) | Modern western / post apocalypse au

Queen of poisons | Werewolf Ezra x the huntress Nyx

Death Kiss | Vampire Hunter Mayans, ofcs, | JC vampires au

Deep in the woods, the goat-man lives | Creature! ubbe x ofc | Vikings

Decided by fate | Tyler Rake x ofc

Labyrinth | Klonnie (a03)

Artes year of whump (plus fluff and comfort) challenge

What the heart wants | Secret sabra fic | Pero Tovar

Autumn in New York | Nick Vaughan x ofc

#completed fics #so far

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arrthurpendragon · 1 year

Text

Promo :D

Thank you for the chance to submit something for promotion! You’re awesome.

I write for the Extraction fandom and have a Tyler Rake x OFC that’s spawned several stories over the course of three years. Including some little crossovers with John Wick :)

https://www.tumblr.com/chickensarentcheap/641071222550134784/fic-masterlist-on-ao3?source=share

#submission #oc creator promo #fd: extraction #ocapprecation #ocapp #oc fanfiction #oc fanfic #oc fic #original character

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girlwiththenegantattoo · 2 years

Text

Thank you to those that have read, left kudos or comments

A Summer Endeavor

Jeb Magruder x OFC (Mila)

Jeb Magruder

Phrases

Jeb Magruder x OFC (18+) 630w smut

Dare

Jeb Magruder x OFC (Mature) 792w mention of sexual acts

Truth

Jeb Magruder X OFC (18+) 966w smut

Secretary 1143k no warnings

Part 2 (18+) 2173k smut

Jeb Magruder X OFC

How to catch a reindeer

Jeb Magruder X Mila. (18+) 1642k smut

Hoover, Nobody Does It Like You

Jeb Magruder X Mila (18+) 1990k smut

Father Paul

Show me Drabble (18+) 746 smut

Let Me Help You (18+) 2372k smut

Allow Me (18+) 1485k smut

The Curious Task of Explaining Hunger

(18+) 1584k smut

Mr. Kidd

Martin Kidd (Dead for a dollar) (18+) 1114k smut

Make A Deal With The Devil

Maynard Spencer (The Nickel Boys) (M) 1662k

#masterlist #hamish linklater #jeb magruder #John Tyler #jeb magruder fic #jeb magruder x ofc

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plainlo-inthemorning · 3 years

Text

Masterlist

The Hobbit (movies)

Thranduil’s secret (Kili x Tauriel, drabble)

His Dark Materials (tv series)

The Lion, The Witch and the Waistcoat (Lee Scoresby x OFC, multi-chapter. Links to AO3)

Father Paul / Midnight Mass (Netflix)

All shameless priest smut. All f/m.

The Night Father Paul Removed His Collar

The Night Father Paul Let You Sit On His Lap

The Night Father Paul Went Shopping For Slim Fit Jeans

The Night Father Paul Got Tied Up (sequel to Slim Fit Jeans)

Father Paul: A Dirty Bedtime Story (drabble)

John Tyler / Tell Me Your Secrets (tv series)

Baby, It's Cold Outside (f/m, angst)

Jeb Magruder / Gaslit (tv series)

The Night Jeb Magruder Said No to Dick (f/m, smut)

The Night Jeb Magruder Took The Deal (Sweetheart) (f/m, smut)

Dr. Jim Ellis / The Stand (tv series)

The Night Dr. Jim Ellis Got a New Patient (f/m, smut)

Jeb Tyler / Gaslit + TMYS AU

That kind of morning (m/m, drabble, fluff)

Motion approved (m/m, smut)

Lokane

Perfect Imperfections (f/m, multi-chapter, smut. Complete. Links to AO3)

Shine a Light (f/m, multi-chapter. Complete. Links to AO3)

Thank you for reading! Likes warm my heart, comments and reblogs make my world go round 🖤

You can also find all my fics on AO3 here

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everythingbutresolved · 2 years

Text

On The Rocks

Yep, this is Jeb Tyler smut, you are warned.

Art by @aherdofbees @plainlo-inthemorning

A man is wanted, in many ways.

Slooooow burn, but don't worry, Jeb and John will find a comfortable (ehm) room all together.

TRIGGER WARNINGS:

#mention to rape/non con

#graphic description of non consensual sex

#graphic description of intercourse m/l & m/f

#vulgar language (John doesn't approve)

pairing: John Tyler x ofc x Jeb Magruder 😬

word count: 4300something

rating: slooooow burn then SMUT

chapters: 2 of 6? 7? I don't know

Part 1. – The setup Summer in Washington can be unbearably hot, with temperature spiking every day, and clothes clinging to equally sticking skin like maple syrup on warm bread. Clutching at the folder in your hands, you try to smooth the creases on your blouse, wondering if you didn’t choose something too flashy for your first meeting with an ex-con.

Damn, in the investigative journalism class they never approached the subject, but now you can’t back off.

The sun is beaming bright right above you and, squinting, you can see the doors of the convenience store open, and a tall, slender figure steps out of it to head into the alleyway that presumably leads to the back shop. You gather your thoughts, keeping in check a surge of frenzied panic. You quickly rehearse the speech you memorized by heart, hoping to sound calm, convincing, and in control.

You got this

You’re praying this is not the stupidest idea you ever had.

You also hope Mike was not wrong about the credentials of the man you are about to meet.

The asphalt under your heels almost seems to melt in the stifling heat, and when in a few steps you reach the other side of the road, drops of sweat have already begun to collect under your armpits, and in the crook of your back. The man is nowhere to be seen.

Shit.

Is it possible that he is already back inside?

“John?”

At the sound of your voice, a large face appears from the open backdoor, long arms cradling a canister of frozen vegetables. He is pretty damn tall, and leaner than it might have appeared from a distance, with inquisitive brown eyes that soften and widen when they catch you in the frame. His hair is cut in a punitive buzzcut, but that is the only sign of his recent early release. The white shirt under the apron is soaked wet, adhering to trim muscles. Only now that you are closer you can see his tattoos wrapped around his shapely arms.

Only a few creases around his eyes and the silver streaks shining in the blazing light suggest an older age than he appears. His face is a strange mix of alertness and curiosity.

It reminds you of your neighbors' guard dog when you were a child, a Doberman with lustrous fur like obsidian. It was gentle and responded to its master's commands in a flash, but one day you had seen it launching itself at a small hare that had sneaked between the hedges and snap its neck with a sharp bite.

He had come to lay him at your feet and looked at you in confusion as you held back tears.

“John Tyler, right?”

His expression quickly shifts from startled to wary, but his posture does not change, silently imposing even in the ridiculous work apron that barely reaches his knees. For a moment you fear he might throw the basket at you and run.

“I’m sorry to bother you, Mr. Tyler, I didn’t intend to be rude or trouble you in front of your colleagues. I need only five minutes of your time. When can you take a break?”

Impassive, he lets your words hang in the air before replying, a deep, calm voice almost startling you.

“Who sent you here? Only a few people know where I work. And live.”

Tiny drops of sweat glue the fabric to your back. You step forward to enter the shadow cone of the building. He takes a half-step back too.

“Nobody sent me. I got your name from an…anonymous source. I know you are a man that treasures his privacy, but I just need to talk to you. Please?”

The pleading tone stirs something in his eyes, that now are roaming all over your face, and quickly glance down, stopping on the folder you're strangling in your hands.

“I'll meet you at the bar behind the park in 20 minutes. I can't end the shift without prior notice.”

Because they’d tell your supervisor and you’d be in trouble.

You nod and turn on your heels without saying another word. You feel his eyes burning all over your back, but you ignore the chill that goes up your spine.

Less than half an hour later you are both sitting at a corner table overlooking the busy side alley.

John has changed into a fresh but wrinkled check shirt, buttoned up to his neck despite the sultry heat. His arms are covered too, to your dismay.

He looks calm as before but somehow more relaxed, scrolling through the menu for what it felt like an hour before ordering a pie of the day and cold lemonade. “Three sugars”. The man has a sweet tooth.

And he’s waiting for you to speak.

“I’m sorry for showing up out of nowhere at your workplace, I didn’t want to disturb you more than it’s necessary.”

His gaze bounces from you to the window, following the passers-by walking swiftly down the semi-deserted street. He shifts uncomfortably on the slippery seat, big palms flat on the table, a subliminal sign: “I don’t want trouble”

But you are John, and this is exactly why I want you. For a moment you are gripped by the tingling fear of a matador entering the arena for the first time. What if you are not fit for this? You’ll find out soon. Remember WHO you are doing this for.

“Who told you where to find me? Only a handful of people know where I have been relocated.”

“You know I won’t tell you the name. And I made sure that you didn’t find out, no matter how long you try.”

“And anonymous informer, yes, you told me. Ok. Alright. If you know my name you know also who I am.”

You swallow a sip of iced tea, calming your nerves, and look up. Slant-cut, huge brown eyes are scanning yours, searching for the smallest hint of a lie.

“You know what I did. And you wanted to meet me.”

You take a deep breath, not giving room to second doubts, and you jump.

“You are John Tyler, 41 years old, born in Minnesota, moved to Texas with your family when you were 9, after the death of your mother and your father’s second marriage. You have a sister, Jane. She moved into another state and changed her name after your arrest. It was hard to find her. Even harder to convince her to talk.”

A spark of interest lights up his deep brown irises. Despite having imprinted in your mind the transcript of the assaults that you read in his file, for a moment you forget the man in front of you is the living embodiment of a nightmare, caught in the depth of his stare, and you wonder how long could you hold it before drowning in it.

“You almost got kicked out of high school for “aggressive behavior”, but you kept your library card active, and you were enrolled in a few evening courses at the local community college. Finance, literature, psychology even. Eventually, you started working at your father’s garage but didn’t last long. Then, you spent almost 10 years hopping from job to job, maintenance, cars, plumbing, bookshop clerk. Until one day, John Tyler simply disappeared from the radar and resurfaced only 4 years ago, when you were condemned for breaking and entering two different apartments. You…assaulted two women while you were there. One of them recognized you at a bus stop, months later, and made such a helluva scene that she convinced two passing policemen to follow you home, where they found your little hoard of trophies, along with money and what remained of a lifetime of fake identities. Yes, I know you, John Tyler. You are a thief, a burglar, an intelligent con artist, an efficient stalker, and a brute.”

You take a pause, avoiding his gaze, and sip the tea getting warmer, the ice in the tall glass almost completely melted. A voice as cold as the winter breeze gives you involuntary shivers.

“None of these is a secret, not to anyone who followed the news. Who are you?”

“You can call me Val. I’m a journalist. A reporter.”

“Is that why you are here? You want to write a piece about me?”

For a moment the man reveals a flaw that you diligently take note of. John is vain. Good, we can work on that. Your lips pull into a tugged smile

“I’m here to offer you a job.”

“I have a job.”

“This is the kind of job only a person like you could do.”

His eyes squeeze in a well-rehearsed imitation of a sincere smile. Something else shifts underneath, but only your trained eyes can spot it.

“I’m not sure I understand. What do you want from me? My entire life has been put under scrutiny and I have accepted the consequences of my actions. I paid for what I did, for the crimes I committed – the people I affected. I was confused and reckless. Prison gave me structure, I’m in touch with my supervisor and we are working together to consolidate my early release. Whatever you have in mind, I’m not your man. I’ve changed.”

“I hope so. I really do. I personally believe in people’s ability to do better when they are given the chance. If they are sincere about it, of course.”

Stall, pause, attack

“I gave you my name and my profession. How long would it take you to find out where I live? My parents’ address? My dog’s name? How much time to know by heart my shoe size, and my favorite food? Could you find out my first boyfriend’s name? My last one? How good are you, really, John? The man who can slither in the gaps of what we think is safety and shred it to pieces. You recognize these words?”

“That’s the Judge’s final statement.” A flat tone that only sparks anger in your blood.

Queen takes the pawn. You sit still, sweat cooling on your back.

“Miss, if you want me to follow your ex-boyfriend’s address, there are private detectives that could do that for you.”

“I need you to find a person for me. I need answers and I need them soon. I only have this chance and I cannot do it by myself. This is not a favor I’m asking you, John, this is a job. A well-paid one too. How much does a clerk earn these days? I can give you the equivalent of one year of salary, in cash. Tell me what you want, and you’ll get it on a silver plate. But I need you to find everything you can about this man, fast.”

John giggles, a white toothy smile eating his large face. Is he conscious he’s twitching on the spot? It’s uncomfortable to watch, like a caged animal in a Zoo banging his head against the bars.

“And here I was thinking you wanted to have a nice chat with me…This conversation is making me nervous, Miss, as I said before I’m not that kind of person anymore, I can’t help you with your personal manhunt. How ethical is that though? Are you really a journalist?

“Have you ever apologized to your victims?”

Eyes as big as saucers lock in yours, the hint of a toothy smile peering through pouted lips.

“I was allowed to write them a letter. I don't know if they ever read it.”

“To all of them?”

“I don’t know what…”

With a quick gesture, you open the folder, forgotten on the table until then, placing the papers in front of John's marble face.

“Sarah Hay, three months before your arrest. She reported the assault only after 6 months, so she was not taken into consideration by the investigators, but the modus operandi is yours. Do you recognize her, John? Because I think she might recognize you.”

A rivulet is drooling on your neck, seeping into the hollow of your breasts. You know is refraining from lapping its trajectory with his eyes, hooked by the name of someone he refuses to recognize.

“If you refuse me this, I will make sure she knows your name and where to find you. I will also make sure this story is picked up by all the county papers from here to Denver. You will not have a moment's peace, nor will they forget your face wherever you go. Hell maybe you'd be glad of it, your big doe eyes in every kitchen. Ladies squirming at your story. Be sure your cock will be served for dinner by Sarah’s husband at your funeral before a month has passed.”

“This is not a ladylike language.” The tone is low and dark, and your smile dies in your throat when one of his hands covers yours and presses down on the cold surface. “And keep your voice quieter. If we are doing this, I don’t want people to suddenly REMEMBER me near my workplace.”

“You’re taking a family leave tomorrow. Your boss will receive a call from your supervisor: your dad is dying; you’ll take some time off until he’s better.”

“Wow, you really took care of everything. You remind me of those Superball posters in the Subway, “All or Nothing”, you really are that type of person, you can’t accept a no for an answer. You are so, so demanding. Lucky for you, I am too.” The last part was almost whispered in your ear, and you shivered at the sudden pressure on your wrist, digits digging into your skin, surely leaving a bruise visible tomorrow. The mark of the devil.

You wriggle out of the grip, tossing the folder at your companion, who is now taking big bites of the creamy white cake.

“You can take the money, and the job or you can take another 4 years in prison. What’s your answer?”

“Who assures me you won’t set me up when your little treasure hunt is over? Uh? Why should I believe you?”

A few crumbs have stuck to his chin, and you have an impulse that you can't suppress. You lean over and swipe them with your bare hands. Utterly caught by surprise, John freezes. You finish cleaning him and take a napkin from the dispenser, using it to clean your hands and passing it on the back of your neck, sighing at the rugged texture.

“Because, John, I would be in as much trouble as you’d be, and because I am a trustworthy person with an impeccable file, and because” You slide the fabric on your collarbone, making sure he’s watching.

“Because I think you will like it. You’re going to have a lot of fun, John.”

You part roads, the folder in John’s hands, with a promise to see you the next day at his apartment. On the way back you remind yourself this is an act. A well-crafted, necessary devilish act you had no choice but to pull off. It’s not without a shudder that you cross the road to your condo, enter the cool shadow of your apartment, and latch the door chain, sighing in relief. The bait has been laid. Tomorrow you’ll have your answer. After you have discarded your clothes in annoyance and slipped into a well-deserved tepid shower, you're lying on the couch, lighting a joint set aside for "special" moments, and only then do you venture to review the moves you've made, trying to predict tomorrows.

At his apartment.

John Tyler’s place.

You must be completely nuts, as Mike said.

Your wrist still feels the force of the grip, vivid as the memory of his pupils dilating as he stared at your hand wiping the sweat off your neck.

How you can still feel the shadow of a beard on his broad chin.

Something tenses in your stomach but on the second puff, it loosens, giving way to a pleasant warmth.

You have considered all the pros and cons, and this is the only way to show him that you are not afraid of him. That you have him in on a leash.

After that, it's only a matter of days to get to him.

“Fucking Jeb Magruder.”

Part 2 - John’s

The voice of The King echoes between the paper-thin walls of John’s one-bedroom apartment, the guitar filling his mind while he tries to ignore the folder lying on his coffee table. He is lying on the prayer carpet, naked except for a towel around his waist, still dripping from the cold bath.

“Lord Almighty

Feel my temperature rising

Higher, higher

It's burning through to my soul

Girl, girl, girl, girl

You gonna set me on fire

My brain is flaming

I don't know which way to go”

Fucking woman. She got him wrapped around his finger in no time. She did a good job digging into his past, although some things were too carefully hidden to be found. The money offer caught his interest, but it was her desperate attempt to impress him with her sleuth skills that made him chuckle at the memory of it, a deep, dark rumble that could curd butter and urge a nun to cross her heart.

With Sarah he has been reckless, he knew it. Too close to home, too soon after the previous one. He has been clumsy, leaving traces all the way to him to be caught. Amateur. Tired.

This has to be different.

He had read the file first thing, cooling down in the ice-cold water.

Jeb Magruder flashed a pair of vast, blue, indecorous eyes from his ID picture, ridiculous, almost girly hair curled in a luscious wave. He wasn’t a big fish, but the names listed in those pages were all over the newspapers in the political section in the run-up to the elections, and some sounded so intentionally obscure that they probably held the strings of the whole shebang.

"What on earth do you want from this man, girl?"

If there was one thing he had learned in prison, beyond the rhetoric of inner change, it was that bigwigs wet themselves like newborn kittens at the slightest hint of strength. At first, he had been picked on, too, like everyone else, but he had learned quickly that the best way not to get railed over was...to rail someone else.

Literally.

Not precisely to his liking at first, but after a few months of feverish nightmares, there had come a guy convicted of theft, a bank teller who had skimmed too much off the poor retirees' accounts.

The guy's dark curls and Bambi eyes had immediately enticed the pack.

When his turn had arrived, the boy had let out no breath and had blown him with all the ardor of which he was capable of. John had hesitated just a few moments before pushing a hand into the shiny hair shoving his cock into that tantalising mouth with gusto.

From there, it had been all downhill.

He sighed again and closed his eyes, driving out memories.

The girl.

He remembered how she wriggled under his grip, trying so hard to look composed and detached. But oh, the rage and pride under that haughty look, all fire, and display of wit.

She exuded a delicate scent despite the excruciating heat and diner smells. Not really her type though. One could not even tell what body she had under that chastened dress, and that hair pulled back into a grandmotherly bun...and yet. The neckline of her blouse was a little too low, where a trickle of sweat had seeped undisturbed, almost as if she wanted him to look… And that look at the end, "I think you'll enjoy it, John," her soft, crooning voice.

He slides a hand under the towel, eyes closing at the memory of her soft skin under his hand, wrist almost engulfed by his fingers. He imagines her small hand forced to wrap around his cock and slowly starts stroking himself (that he likes, not too strong to fight back viciously, but with some stamina in them. He loves when they think they can run until they REALIZE. Oh. He’s not going to let them go). That pretty mouth would look so nice on him too, forcing her to take him all in slow thrusts. John’s hands twitches at the thought of undoing her hair and pulling it gently. He wants them to enjoy themselves, even though they will never admit it. They still think of him, all of them. He has filled their dreams with a secret thrill that warms up their nights. She would like it too, moaning and screaming his name while she wriggles and tenses under him.

“I think you’re gonna have fun, John”

Panting out of breath, John’s hand moves faster, scratching his naked thigh for lack of better.

The curve of her breasts so close to him, glossy lips murmuring his name.

Elvis keeps singing of burning love from a stage in Memphis:

“Your kisses lift me higher

Like the sweet song of a choir

You light my morning sky

With burning love

I feel my temperature rising

Help me, I'm flaming

I must be a hundred and nine

Burning, burning, burning

And nothing can cool me

I just might turn into smoke”

“You want it so much? Why you talk like a whore when you were being such a good girl to me? Here it goes, better now?”

He’s close, so close now, he just needs to pull her over and…Her face turns towards him, wide-eyed and impassible:

“Have you ever apologized to your victims?”

“Fuck!”

The yelp comes with a sobbing sound, and John is curling up on the cheap carpet, chocking his painfully hard cock, looking for something, ANYTHING, to get her inquisitive gaze out of his head.

He pictures himself with the boy in the prison showers, only there’s Jeb this time. He starts imagining, thrusting into his open mouth, blue doe eyes staring at him in submission, ruffling and tugging that jet-black mane. He keeps pumping at the thought of his muffled screams while he thrusts faster, ordering him to suck, good boy Jeb. His hand finds a satisfying pace while the Jeb in his imagination gags and almost suffocates at the pressure of his throbbing cock at the back of his throat, tears flowing all over those pink cheekbones. John’s hand stills and shudders run through him, while he comes in hot sprays on the towel still latched at his waist.

As his heartbeat calms down, John keeps his eyes closed, vaguely thinking about taking another bath and letting the voice of the King pervading his spent body

“You light my morning sky

With burning love

I'm just a hunk, a hunk of burning love

Just a hunk, a hunk of burning love”

He wipes his hand on the carpet, taking a mental note of it for later. Breathing hard, he reaches for the folder, that opens on Jeb’s picture.

“You’re right my love, I think I’m gonna like it.”

He stamps a kiss on the black and white photo, tossing the rest in a corner. Later.

“I think WE are gonna have a looot of fun.”

“Just a hunk, a hunk of burning love

Just a hunk, a hunk of burning love

Just a hunk, a hunk of burnin”

#ao3 link soon #Jeb Tyler #hamish linklater #Jeb Magruder #John Tyler #Gaslit #Tell Me Your Secrets #hot jeb summer #smut #fanfic #a bit of shark tank #a bit of Great Mouse Detective #a bit of Kill Bill #hamfam

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pegplunkett · 3 years

Text

okay I sort of stealth posted it last night because I was nervous so here’s a proper post for the fuckin deranged john tyler fic I wrote in case any of our fellow jt horndogs missed it 🐺🚘

pairing: john tyler x ofc (she’s unnamed though so it kinda works as john tyler x reader)

word count: 2778

rating: explicit af

warnings: oh god lads, I mean it’s our beloathed john so like, loads? non-con in particular, dead dove, like the deadest dove: do not eat, approach with horny caution

ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/35768023

She checked her watch again and chewed her lip, trying to weigh up her options. He seemed sweet and friendly but he was still a stranger after all. On the other hand she didn’t want to wait around any longer than was absolutely necessary so she figured a lift from this man won out as the lesser of two evils.

#john tyler #tell me your secrets #john tyler x reader #hamish linklater #everyone was so nice about this which is why I’m posting it properly now #ty pals you’re the best #I look forward to hanging out in hell with you all

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ebiemidnightlibrarian · 6 months

Text

𝑬𝑩𝑰𝑬'𝑺 𝑴𝑨𝑺𝑻𝑬𝑹𝑳𝑰𝑺𝑻

Hello, everyone!

First of all, before the list begins, I feel that I need to warn you that English isn't my first language, so might happen you find some writing/grammar mistakes, I also don't have a beta reader, again I'm sorry for any mistakes.

Most, if not all my fanfictions are 'x ofc/c', however, I write them as reader fics. That means that the only differences from a 'x reader' fic is that the character will have a name and the narration will be in the third person. But no details about the embodiment of the character will be given, with a few exceptions in a couple stories, but I'll be warning in the notes and warnings of the piece when that happens.

Also, I made this Google form, so you can tell me where you want to be tagged. That's all for now.

Enjoy :)

Update: ALL my fanfictions are on indeterminate hiatos. But, I'm not abandoning them, I promise 😘

Update #2: Some changes in the Masterlist, I'm reorganizing the whole thing to get a better view of what I'll be doing, hopefully I'll be able to post something soon.

𝔖𝔦𝔡𝔢 𝔅𝔩𝔬𝔤 𝔇𝔢𝔡𝔦𝔠𝔞𝔱𝔢𝔡 𝔱𝔬 𝔒ℭ'𝔰

𝔇𝔞𝔳𝔦𝔡 𝔅𝔬𝔴𝔦𝔢

𝐉𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐡, 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐆𝐨𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐧 𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐠

𝐉𝐨𝐡𝐧 𝐁𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐥𝐨𝐜𝐤

𝔒ℭ'𝔰

𝑯𝒂𝒚𝒘𝒐𝒐𝒅 𝑱𝒐𝒏𝒆𝒔

𝔇𝔞𝔫𝔦𝔢𝔩 𝔅𝔯𝔲̈𝔥𝔩

𝐁𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐧 𝐇𝐞𝐥𝐦𝐮𝐭 𝐙𝐞𝐦𝐨

𝐃𝐨𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐫 𝐋𝐚𝐬𝐳𝐥𝐨 𝐊𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐳𝐥𝐞𝐫

𝐄𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐒𝐜𝐡𝐦𝐢𝐝𝐭

𝔬𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔯 𝔴𝔬𝔯𝔨𝔰

𝔒ℭ'𝔰

𝑳𝒆𝒏𝒛 𝑴. 𝑯𝒆𝒊𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒎𝒂𝒏𝒏

𝑯𝒆𝒊𝒏𝒓𝒊𝒄𝒉 𝑯𝒆𝒊𝒏𝒆𝒓

𝑭𝒂𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝑴𝒂𝒕𝒆𝒐 𝑹𝒐𝒎𝒆𝒓𝒐

𝔇𝔞𝔳𝔦𝔡 𝔇𝔞𝔰𝔱𝔪𝔞𝔩𝔠𝔥𝔦𝔞𝔫

𝐀𝐛𝐧𝐞𝐫 𝐊𝐫𝐢𝐥𝐥 [𝐏𝐨𝐥𝐤𝐚-𝐃𝐨𝐭 𝐌𝐚𝐧]

𝐌𝐮𝐫𝐝𝐨𝐜

𝐉𝐨𝐡𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐧

𝔬𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔯 𝔴𝔬𝔯𝔨𝔰

𝔒ℭ'𝔰

𝑯𝒂𝒆𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝑮𝒓𝒊𝒎𝒂𝒍𝒅

ℌ𝔞𝔪𝔦𝔰𝔥 𝔏𝔦𝔫𝔨𝔩𝔞𝔱𝔢𝔯

𝐅𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐏𝐚𝐮𝐥 𝐇𝐢𝐥𝐥 | 𝐌𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐠𝐧𝐨𝐫 𝐉𝐨𝐡𝐧 𝐏𝐫𝐮𝐢𝐭𝐭

𝐌𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐰 𝐊𝐢𝐦𝐛𝐥𝐞

𝐁𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐞 𝐂𝐚𝐭𝐥𝐞𝐝𝐠𝐞

𝐉𝐨𝐧𝐡 𝐓𝐲𝐥𝐞𝐫

𝐀𝐧𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐰 𝐊𝐞𝐚𝐧𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐲

𝔬𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔯 𝔴𝔬𝔯𝔨𝔰

𝔒ℭ'𝔰

𝑯𝒆𝒏𝒓𝒚 𝑮. 𝑷𝒓𝒆𝒔𝒄𝒐𝒕𝒕

𝕺𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖗 𝕱𝖆𝖓𝖉𝖔𝖒𝖘

𝔓𝔩𝔞𝔶𝔩𝔦𝔰𝔱𝔰

And that's it for now.

I'll make a separate post for each fanfic and one-shot, with the specs of genres and warnings.

𝑰𝑴𝑷𝑶𝑹𝑻𝑨𝑵𝑻!

These stories are 100% mine, that is, I created, started and will finish them the way they were planned within the proper time. That said, I do not consent anything originally posted on this blog being copied/pasted/translated/or any other form of reproduction, to any site other than here, on this blog, without my permission. In short, not even over my dead body.

Thank you in advance for your attention and I hope you enjoy these stories made with great care and effort.

Good reading!

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slashhinginghasher · 1 year

Text

Monster ch. 4 - Four Letter Word (John Tyler x OFC)

*Spongebob shouting from the roof voice* I update every 7 months and I’m proud!

Ao3 link

Opening quote from “A List Of All The Ways I’d Like You To Kill Me” by Evil MTN, from The Underground Library of Found Poetry

Chapter summary: Ieva quits her job and has several emotional crises

7. If all else fails, you could always just want me around. • You know my heart can’t take it. 8. I hope you never find out just how horrible I really am.

A List Of All The Ways I’d Like You To Kill Me - Evil Mtn.

She had a nightmare, one of the worst in years.

She was back in church in Virginia. Everyone was waiting in line for the eucharist, but instead of dusty old Father Daniel with a handful of equally dusty crackers, it was Randall with his fucking pin nailer. Ruth stood beside him in a long white dress. A river of rust stained the fabric from waist to toes, and she held a chalice up to collect the blood spurting from the red ruin of her throat. One by one, the church-goers knelt before Randall with open mouths and eyes gleaming in ecstasy so he could drive a nail through their tongues. Ieva flinched at every ker-chunk, feeling an answering pain in her body. Several times she tried to leave the line, only to be forced back by Janine’s claw-like grip or a whack from Miriam’s cane.

When she reached the front, she had to be forced onto her knees. Randall grinned his awful, greasy smile while Ruth gurgled pitifully next to him.

“Hiya kid,” he said. Then he lined up the pin nailer between Ieva’s eyes and pulled the trigger.

***

The back of Ieva’s hand smacked against her forehead hard enough to wake her with a jolt. Her cheeks felt tight with the salt of dried tears, and a headache - separate from the phantom sting of the pin nailer - throbbed behind her eyes. She was still in her underwear. John was lounging next to her, stripped down to his white undershirt and boxer briefs and focused intently on something on his phone. He’d cranked the heat up high enough that neither of them were uncomfortable in their undressed state.

Woe unto the motel owner and their power bill at the end of the month.

John set his phone aside when he heard Ieva move, sliding down so they were lying face to face. He took her hand in his and gently pulled it away from her face. There was something painfully tender in his expression - not as condescending as the pity look, but sorrowful all the same - and she had a sudden, gnawing feeling that he’d been looking at the article again.

“There was a picture of you, from high school,” he said, confirming her suspicions. “You looked so sad.”

“Yeah.”

There was really nothing to say to that. She had been sad, and angry, and scared, and a million other emotions that rarely included anything approximating happiness.

He was fascinating himself with her hand now: feeling the shape of each knuckle and delicate bone, tracing the lines of her palm with a neatly trimmed nail. The soft rasp of his skin against hers filled her with that hot, shivery feeling that John seemed to inspire so easily in her. “Arousal” did not adequately describe it; the word was too pedestrian, too textbook. It didn’t cover that underlying thrill of fear. Fear of him - how effortlessly he could break her, could snap her like a fingerbone, could leave her hollow and alone in the dirt. Fear of herself - how quickly those nameless cravings of hers had latched on to a target, and with such ferocity. Fear of the wanting itself - how vulnerable the ability to be rejected left her.

John pressed her palm to his mouth, and Ieva’s breath stuttered in time with her heartbeat. She felt him smile against her hand. His thumb was over the thrumming pulse in her wrist. He knew exactly how badly he affected her, the bastard.

(A bastard who seemed to catch her only at her worst moments and stayed anyway. A bastard who crossed half the country just to fuck her.)

“What do you want, Eva?” he asked, curling her fingers against his cheek.

I want you to touch me forever. I want you to never touch me again. I want to scream until my vocal cords shatter like glass and I choke on my own teeth. I want to cut you open and crawl inside your bones. I want to have never met you. I want to ink my name on your tongue so everything you say for the rest of your life tastes like me. I want to run as fast and as hard as I can so you can’t abandon me first.

“I want you to say my name right,” was what left her stupid mouth. She felt him frown before he pulled away from her hand entirely to look her directly in the eye.

“Eva.”

“Ieva,” she corrected.

“Yeva?” he offered tentatively.

“Ieva,” she said slowly. John repeated after her, carefully wrapping his mouth around the unfamiliar vowels until she nodded her approval.

“Ieva,” he murmured to himself. “Ieva, Ieva, Ieva…”

He smiled brilliantly, an expression of boyish delight that took years off his face, and pulled her in for a passionate kiss. The movement of his lips against hers was slow, but his hands were everywhere, gripping too tightly and not tightly enough. Ieva couldn’t stop her wince when he prodded at the entrance of her cunt, still painful from how brutally he’d fucked her earlier.

“Oh, you poor thing,” he cooed, sounding inordinately pleased with himself. “I’ve been rough with you, haven’t I?”

Smug bastard.

Ieva wanted to hit him. The most she could manage was a pathetic growl, which earned her a chuckle as he slid her panties down her legs. He tossed them behind him, then worked his way back up with tongue and teeth until he reached the apex of her thighs.

One of the more common questions people asked her about the Tower - especially the handful who knew about Randall’s existence - was whether or not she’d been raped. They didn’t actually say the word “rape” very often; there was usually a lot of awkward gesturing and “did they– you know”, or roundabout euphemisms more suited to a five-year-old. But they did ask, and they asked a lot. (The men and boys around her could be quite insistent, which confused her until she concluded that they were probably getting off on the thought of it in private.)

The truth was she didn’t know. There were so many gaps in her memory from the drugs that it was entirely possible that someone, or multiple someones, could have sexually abused her without her knowledge. And quite frankly, she didn’t care. What she did remember was being used for target practice by a bunch of bored methheads, having wall tacks stuck in her face and torso and legs, eating rotten scraps from the trash out of sheer desperate starvation. They had gotten into her blood, violated her on a neurochemical level; why would it matter if there was a dick involved at some point? But her therapists at rehab hadn’t understood that, no matter how she explained, and the church’s concerns with the sanctity of the body started and ended at the genital area, so she just started meeting the topic with stony silence.

Technically, the things John had done to her probably counted as rape. She hadn’t said “no”, but she certainly hadn’t said “yes” either. He’d made her cry and left her with bruises and teeth marks, and she now knew that he’d done the same or worse to other women in the past. But the thing was, it didn’t feel like abuse. John’s touch didn’t leave her wanting to scrub her skin off the way the memories of the Tower did. It didn’t feel like a violation when he hurt her, and it sure as hell didn’t feel like a violation now when he spread her folds open with his thumbs and gave her a long, slow, rapturous lick.

The wet heat of his tongue was far more forgiving than his fingers, and she felt herself arching into it without thinking. John’s hands clamped onto her hips and held her down as he devoured her like a man starved. Every flick of his tongue against her clit sent electricity up her spine, her walls fluttering around the muscle when he pushed it inside. She nearly wept with the intensity of her orgasm, legs shaking and hands grasping uselessly at the sheets, spine bowing until she was practically arched off the bed. John kept his mouth latched onto her the entire time, greedily drinking every drop of her pleasure. The frantic motion of his tongue became slower, gentler, until he was pressing soft kisses to her trembling inner thighs, and Ieva collapsed, chest heaving for breath and unshed tears turning the dimly lit room into a kaleidoscope.

John shifted up to rest his head on her stomach, one hand tucked under her waist and the thumb of the other rubbing circles into her hip bone. Ieva threaded her fingers through his curls and scratched gently at his scalp. She ought to do something for him in return, she figured, to assure him that she was worth keeping around, but her throat was still quite sore from all the crying she’d done over the past…

How long? It had been light when they pulled up to the motel, and there was a bit of light filtering through the blinds now, but she couldn’t tell if it was the same light. Hell, she didn’t even know if it had been morning or evening when they left her apartment to come here. Time didn’t seem to work right when John was around; minutes, hours, and days shrugged their shoulders and slumped in a pile together in a corner. She didn’t even know how long she’d been lying there petting his hair.

Either she tensed up or John was a mind reader, because he lifted his head to smile at her, eyes warm and soft and completely at odds with the taste of her pussy still thick on his tongue when he kissed her. He ran two fingers over her still-dripping slit - she squeaked - and pushed them between her lips.

“See?” he purred. “See how sweet you taste.”

His big hand cradled her head like it was the most delicate glass while his tongue plundered her mouth in a sinful dance that had her squirming again in no time. She tugged at his shirt, the thin cotton an insultingly thick barrier between his skin and hers. He pulled away to remove it, and Ieva took advantage of the space to push him over and straddle him the way he’d had her before.

She was empty and aching and needy now, breathless as John freed his staggeringly hard cock from the confines of his underwear. He dragged the swollen head through her drenched folds, teasing clit until she dug her fingernails into the smooth planes of his chest. John’s first push into her channel knocked the air from her lungs as her body jumped from the pain of not enough to the pain of too much.

It hurt to have him, and it hurt to be without him. How fitting.

Despite what John’s obsession with her body may have suggested, Ieva was no sex goddess, and though John slid in easily enough, she had no idea what to do once she was full of him. She rolled her hips experimentally, nerve endings sparkling at the feeling of him pressed against every part of her. John let out a moan that was almost a whimper and grabbed at her hips, forcing her to repeat the movement. Ieva was perfectly fine giving him control. She went pliant in his arms, letting him push and pull her the way he wanted as he thrust into her hard enough to make her see stars.

The pace was fast and rough, but her climax came on slowly, a wave of warmth that crept over her like molasses and intensified until her toes curled and her legs turned to jelly. John fucked her through it, past it, beyond it. He was nearing his own end, his strokes stuttering out of rhythm.

“That’s it, god, just like that… so good, you’re so good, my perfect girl, you’re so… god I love you…”

Ieva’s whole body stiffened in shock, and that was enough to send him over the edge.

“I love you,” he gasped as he came, “I love you, I love you, I love you…”

She couldn’t respond to that. Not in English, not in Latvian, not in any way that mattered. She hid her face away in the crook of his neck and tried very hard not to cry again.

***

There were eight unread messages and three missed calls on Ieva’s phone when they returned to her apartment. As she dismissed the notifications, fully intending to ignore the existence of everything and everyone outside her four walls, Ray’s name popped up on the screen with a buzz.

She could reject the call. She could very, very easily reject the call. She could take the battery out and smash it and hide in her apartment until she was evicted for nonpayment and then run away and find some abandoned cabin in the woods and–

She answered the phone with a feeling of heavy resignation.

“Hello.”

“Hey, Iz. How you holdin’ up?”

The relief in her boss’s voice was palpable, like he’d been worried about her doing something permanent with a razor. She wouldn’t do that. She’d just finished touching up a particularly intricate bit of knotwork on her left arm; no way would she cut over that. It was one of the main reasons she’d started tattooing herself in the first place, to stop herself from scratching and slicing her skin to ribbons…

Ray was still waiting on an answer.

“Holding,” she said. “Alive.” Her tongue felt like lead. The bed dipped as John seated himself behind her and snaked his arms around her waist.

“There’s no rush,” Ray was saying, “absolutely no rush. But we were wondering if you had any idea of when you might be ready to come back in.”

Come back in. She thought about it. Imagined herself back at the shop. The other artists trying and failing to act casual as they calculated how long they had to wait to start asking questions about her childhood without being insensitive. Jokes and comments cut off mid-sentence for fear of offending her. The disgusting, pitying tenderness in their eyes as they tried to figure out how to deal with her now.

She felt bile rising in her throat.

“I’m not.”

“Not… You’re not sure?”

“Coming back. I’m not coming back.”

John’s grip tightened querulously, but he was a non-entity to her right now.

“What do you mean you’re not coming back? Why?” Ray was starting to sound a little panicked, and she remembered all in a rush that he’d lost his kid sister to suicide some time ago.

“Because you know.” Ieva felt her voice crack. “You all know and I’ll have to see it on all your faces and I can’t–” She pressed her knuckles to her forehead, hard. “I can’t. I can’t.”

“Oh, kid,” and there was that fucking pity, “you know it’s not like that. No one is judging you for this, we’d never–”

“Tell me then,” she cut him off. “Tell me that it changes nothing and everything is gonna be just the same.”

Ray was silent. So was John. Listening.

“You can’t. You can’t say it because you know it isn’t true.”

There was a defeated sigh over the line. Ieva could practically see him tugging at his beard the way he did when he was frustrated.

“No, you’re right, you’re…” Another sigh. “You’re really sure?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay. Alright. There’ll be some paperwork, and your gear–”

“I can come get it today.”

***

The paperwork was minimal, just a few signatures to prove that she was actually leaving and Ray hadn’t just decided to stop paying her. She scrawled her name across the requisite lines without reading any of it and shoved it back across Ray’s desk. He stacked the pages together and frowned.

“I don’t like this,” he said.

“You said that.”

Ray heaved out yet another fatherly sigh. He glanced at the photo of him and the dead sister on the wall beside him. She didn’t look a thing like Ieva.

“You don’t have to go and carry all this alone. It’s not…” He searched for the word. “...healthy.”

Not safe, was what he meant.

“I’m not. I have… someone.”

He looked up at her sharply.

“Since when?”

“It’s new. He’s good. For me.”

“This ‘someone’ have anything to do with you leaving?”

Ray was really scrutinizing her now, and she was really done with the conversation.

“No.”

She’d pulled her hair back tight enough to hurt, Spike skewered through the bun like a vampire’s stake, and pulled on her leather jacket and her biggest, stompiest boots before coming down to the shop - her version of armor. One of the regulars had called it her “scary bitch look”, which she hadn’t found as funny as he’d wanted her to. She felt herself hunkering down into it now, hackles up like a dog about to bite.

After another moment of hard staring, Ray gave up, shoulders slumping.

“Alright,” he said softly. “Go on, then.”

They both stood. Ieva stooped to pick up the box she’d thrown all her stuff in under the silent stares of everyone in the building. Before she could flee, Ray stepped around the desk and pulled her into a tight hug, made awkward by the box between them.

“If you ever need a reference, give me a call,” he said softly. “And make sure that ‘someone’ keeps being good to you and kick his ass out the door the second he’s not.”

Ieva nodded stiffly and beelined for the door, eyes prickling. God, she was so fucking sick of crying.

“Iz!” Avery called out as she passed, and she ignored him. “Iz, wait! Eva!”

Cold air slapped her in the face as she shouldered through the door. John was parked at the curb, where he’d waited in the car while she handled things inside. She was glad he’d decided to do so on his own; she didn’t know how she would have asked him to if he hadn’t.

Halfway to the car, a hand grabbed her elbow. She whipped around, boots slipping on the icy sidewalk, to see that Avery had followed her outside.

“Hey, why didn’t you wait? I know you heard me.”

Because she didn’t want to fucking talk to him.

“What do you want, Avery?”

Ieva’s reserves of politeness were running very dry. Avery opened his mouth to answer, then paused, looking past her with a darkening expression. Ieva glanced over her shoulder. John had gotten out of the car and was stalking towards them, staring coldly at Avery’s hand still on her arm.

“Who the fuck is that, Izzie?”

She hated that nickname.

“It’s John.”

The moment he was within reach, Ieva shoved the box into John’s hands with a muttered request to please put it in the trunk. She didn’t think John was the sort of person who would start a physical altercation with a stranger, but he had a nasty look in his eyes, and just because he could toss her around like a ragdoll didn’t necessarily mean he could hold his own against another grown man. Thankfully, he caught the meaningful look in her own gaze and complied without comment.

“Is he making you leave?” Avery asked, leaning in closer.

“He doesn’t make me do anything,” Ieva snapped. That was patently untrue in most scenarios, but did actually apply to this one, and anyway, Avery didn’t need to know about all that.

“Who the hell is this guy, Izzie?”

“He’s…” She hesitated. How did one describe John? Boyfriend? Partner? Lover? Stalker but it’s okay because he fucks real good? “He’s mine,” she settled on, somewhat lamely.

John was still standing by the car, but god, she could practically feel the smugness radiating off of him. Avery sneered.

“I don’t get it. Why him?”

It wasn’t an entirely unwarranted question. From an outside perspective, it would certainly make more sense for Ieva to be with Avery - with his long hair, gauged ears, and eyebrow rings - than with clean-cut John in his button-down shirts. But just because they liked some of the same shit didn’t mean he had some sort of claim on her. Ieva was tired of having to explain herself, and was finding herself in a truly bitchy mood.

“Well for one thing, he can actually make me cum,” she snarled.

Avery reeled back as though slapped. Expressions of shock, anger, and confusion warred on his face.

“But I–” he spluttered. “You–”

“I lied.”

She stomped away to the car, leaving Avery to gape like a fish out on the sidewalk as she threw herself into the passenger seat with a huff. John got in quickly after her and pulled away from the shop. Silence hung heavy between them as they came to a stop at a red light.

“You slept with him?” John asked.

Done, done, done. She was so done with men asking her questions.

“Don’t do this,” she begged wearily.

The light changed. John didn’t move.

“Light’s green.”

“Answer the question, Ieva.”

There was no one else in the lane to honk at them for not going. Where was a well-timed case of road rage when you needed it?

“Fine! Yeah. Avery and I fucked. Once. Like you were such a blushing fucking virgin before we met.”

John stepped on the gas harder than was necessary, throwing her back in her seat. His jaw was clenched, hands tight on the steering wheel. He took several sharp turns, then pulled into the parking lot of a shuttered warehouse.

“That was uncalled for,” he said, voice dangerously calm and even.

“I know.”

Ieva blinked hard. This was the part where he beat her to death and left her on the side of the road, she supposed. What a shitty week this was turning out to be.

From the corner of her eye, she saw John’s mouth quirk into a mean little smile.

“Wasn’t very good, was he?”

She barked out a laugh, surprising both of them. And kept laughing, until she was bordering on hysteria, yet more tears running down her face. God, she had never felt so miserable. She wanted to slam her head against the dashboard until she blacked out.

John’s hand closed over the back of her head, using Spike like a handle to pull her upright. Maybe he was going to initiate the head slamming for her. He did something much worse instead: he kissed her. And kissed her, and kissed her, with a fervor and a tenderness that she absolutely did not deserve.

“I know you’re scared,” he whispered, pressing his forehead to hers, “and I know you’re hurting. But it’s okay, because I love you, and I’m not going anywhere, even when you say things you don’t mean.”

There was that word again: love. What would he do when he found out Ieva couldn’t say it back?

“I’m not a good person,” she insisted.

“I know, but you’re mine.” He swiped a thumb over her damp cheek. “You’re so pretty when you cry-”

She choked on another sobbing laugh.

“-but I know you’ll be even prettier when you’re happy,” he finished.

Something twisted in her chest like a knife.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been happy, John.”

John was quiet for a bit. His hand curled over the nape of her neck, thumb absentmindedly stroking her throat. When he looked at her again, he was deeply serious.

“Am I important to you?” he asked, almost pleading.

Looking into his eyes, Ieva realized that John was also very, very scared. He just hid it better. She nodded, and watched as relief took over every line of his face.

“Take me home, John. Please.”

This love thing was going to be the fucking death of her.

#the end of this chapter is not very good because i wrote it at 3 am #but it's been 7 months and i was tired of it not being done #john tyler #tell me your secrets #my writing #ieva zarin

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chickensarentcheap · 1 year

Text

Lost and Found- Chapter Twenty

Fandom: Extraction

Pairing: Tyler Rake and Esme Drummond (OFC. But you do not have to read the others in the series to understand this fic.)

Warnings: some profanity.

*Includes Extraction 2 canon mentions

Tagging: @youflickedtooharddamnit @munstysmind @tragiclyhip @secretaryunpaid @theesirenteller @asirensrage @residentdormouse @ninjasawakenedmystar @ocappreciationtag @arrthurpendragon @occommunity @thebejeweledwatercat @kmc1989 @karimac @themaradwrites @alisbackalleybbq

Link to Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/43179357/chapters/127894162

My tag list is open!! Please just let me know if you'd like to be added :)

Chapter Summary: Tyler Rake, John Wick, and Alcott walk into a bar...

*****

They make quite the threesome in The Continental lounge. Wick with his American drawl, infamous slicked-back hair, and all-black attire, Alcott with his crisp English accent, neatly tailored pants, and cashmere sweater, and Tyler in his ‘casual best’. A simple black Henley shirt and well-worn and faded, olive green cargo pants he’s had for years; tattered around the cuffs and sporting holes in the side pockets.

Three entirely different yet somehow similar men; a combination of unique backgrounds yet familiar circumstances. Their lives filled with loss and heartbreak, and their hands drenched in the blood of many.

And their bank accounts much fuller because of it.

“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?”

“No.” He presses a series of warm, soft kisses across her collarbone, his beard scraping the pale, delicate skin. “I told him YOU would.”

#Tyler and Esme series #Tyler Rake #Tyler Rake fanfic #Tyler Rake fan fiction #Extraction #Extraction 2 #Extraction fan fic #Extraction fan fiction #Extraction/John Wick cross over #Tyler Rake x OFC #Chris Hemsworth #Rake Lives #Esme Drummond #Esme Rake

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goalhofer · 3 years

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2021 law enforcement in memoriam.

Sgt. Gordon W. Best, North Myrtle Beach DPS EOW 1/1/21

Sgt. Daniel M. Mobley, DeKalb County PD EOW 1/2/21

Pc. Cecil E. Nunley, Sequatchie County CO EOW 1/2/21

Lt. Jeff Bain, DeKalb County SO EOW 1/3/21

Dy. Nicholas A. Howell, Henry County SO EOW 1/3/21

Sgt. Randall Sims, Texas Department Of Corrections EOW 1/3/21

Spl. Dy. Mar. Havonia D. Holley, U.S. Marshals Service EOW 1/5/21

K9 Figo, Cullman County SO EOW 1/5/21

Dy. Jonathan D. Price, Marion County SO EOW 1/6/21

Ofc. Jay Hughes, Kalispel Tribal PD EOW 1/6/21

Ofc. Brian D. Sicknick, U.S. Capitol PD EOW 1/7/21

Sgt. David G. Crumpler, Henry County PD EOW 1/7/21

1st Sgt. Timothy L. Howell, North Carolina Highway Patrol EOW 1/7/21

Lt. William L. Gardner, Denver City PD EOW 1/7/21

Conserv. Ofc. Steven Reighard, Iowa DNR EOW 1/8/21

Ofc. Arturo Villegas, Alamo PD EOW 1/10/21

Ofc. Tyler Britt, Chandler PD EOW 1/11/21

Sgt. Brian R. LaVigne, Hillsborough County SO EOW 1/11/21

Agent Luis A. Marrero-Díaz, DDP De Puerto Rico EOW 1/11/21

Agent Luis X. Salamán-Conde, DDP Municipal De Carolina EOW 1/11/21

Agent Eliezer Hernández-Cartagena, DDP Municapal De Carolina EOW 1/11/21

Det. Camerino Santiago, El Paso PD EOW 1/11/21

Ofc. Melton Gore, Horry County PD EOW 1/12/21

Sgt. Frederick H. Cameron, Fairfax County SO EOW 1/12/21

Sgt. Amelia T. Martinez, Los Angeles PD EOW 1/13/21

Det. Sgt. Stephen R. Desfosses, Norton PD EOW 1/13/21

Ofc. Hector Moya, Newark PD EOW 1/13/21

Chief Tony M. Jordan, Middleburg Borough PD EOW 1/13/21

Inv. Richard A. Sepolio, Harris County DA EOW 1/13/21

Ofc. Joseph H. Montgomery, Arizona State University PD EOW 1/14/21

Cpl. Christine Peters, Greenbelt PD EOW 1/14/21

Pc. Sherry K. Langford, Henderson County CO EOW 1/14/21

Lt. Treva Preston, Texas Department Of Corrections EOW 1/15/21

Cor. Ofc. Alfred Jimenez, Texas Department Of Corrections EOW 1/15/21

Ofc. Jerry S. Hemphill, Lanier Technical College PD EOW 1/16/21

Sgt. Edward J. Marcurella; Jr., Colleton County SO EOW 1/16/21

Lt. John Reynolds, Garden Grove PD EOW 1/17/21

Cor. Ofc. Joseph A. Martini Ulster County SO EOW 1/17/21

Dy. Adam Gibson, Sacramento County SO EOW 1/18/21

Cor. Dy. Ralph E. Serrano, San Diego County Probation Dept. EOW 1/18/21

Bailiff Gerald Smith, Pahrump Justice Court EOW 1/18/21

Ofc. Brandon M. Stalker, Toledo PD EOW 1/18/21

Warrants Ofc. Toby Keiser, Knox County SO EOW 1/18/21

K9 Riley, Sacramento County SO EOW 1/18/21

Dy. Jacinto R. Navarro; Jr., Palm Beach County SO EOW 1/19/21

Ofc. Byron D. Shields, U.S. Border Patrol EOW 1/20/21

Lt. Robert Van Zeyl, Suffolk County PD EOW 1/20/21

Lt. Frank Arnold, California Dept. Of Protective Services EOW 1/22/21

Sp. Agent Wayne D. Snyder, Georgia Dept. Of Corrections EOW 1/23/21

Lt. Juan R. Rivera-Padua, DDP De Puerto Rico EOW 1/23/21

Sp. Dy. Marshal Craig A. Kriner, U.S. Marshals Service EOW 1/23/21

Capt. Michael D. Garigan, Gordon County SO EOW 1/24/21

Lt. Hasain El-Amin, Arkansas State Hospital DPS EOW 1/25/21

Sgt. Charles F. Dotson, Baton Rouge PD EOW 1/25/21

Dy. Frank G. Holguin III, Tulare County SO EOW 1/27/21

Aux. Sgt. Louis M. Livatino, Jacksonville SO EOW 1/27/21

Cor. Ofc. John M. Bowe, Missouri Dept. Of Corrections EOW 1/27/21

Dir. Of Field Operations Beverly Good, U.S. Border Patrol EOW 1/28/21

Sgt. Tommy W. Cudd, Union County SO EOW 1/28/21

Sgt. Jeffery R. Smith, Berry College PD EOW 1/29/21

Sp. Agent Robert A. Mayer; Jr., U.S. Border Patrol EOW 1/30/21

Sgt. William P. Brautigam, New York PD EOW 1/31/21

Sp. Agent Jimmie J. Daniels, FBI EOW 2/1/21

Cor. Ofc. Juan Llanes, Miami-Dade County Dept. Of Corrections EOW 2/1/21

Sgt. Grace A. Bellamy, Georgia Dept. Of Corrections EOW 2/1/21

Lt. Michael Boutte, Hancock County SO EOW 2/1/21

Sp. Agent Laura A. Schwartzenberger, FBI EOW 2/2/21

Sp. Agent Daniel Alfin, FBI EOW 2/2/21

Det. Ofc. Robert Perez, Harris County SO EOW 2/2/21

Dy. Jack E. Gwynes, Nassau County SO EOW 2/3/21

Agent Juan Rosado-López, DDP De Puerto Rico EOW 2/3/21

Ptlm. Darian Jarrott, New Mexico State Police EOW 2/4/21

Cor. Lt. Anthony L. Hardie, North Carolina Dept. Of Corrections EOW 2/6/21

Det. Pedro J. Mejia, Pasadena PD EOW 2/6/21

Ofc. Cesar D. Sibonga, U.S. Border Patrol EOW 2/7/21

Sp. Dy. Marshal Vincent A. Gala; Jr., U.S. Marshals Service EOW 2/8/21

Dy. Ross Dixon, Cambria County SO EOW 2/9/21

Cor. Ofc. Vicky James, Texas Dept. Of Corrections EOW 2/10/21

Inv. Eddie B. Hutchinson III, Walker County DA’s Office EOW 2/10/21

Sp. Dy. Marshal Hugh B. Bennett, U.S. Marshals Service EOW 2/10/21

Chief Timothy J. Sheehan, California Borough PD EOW 2/11/21

Dy. Donald R. Gilreath III, Hamilton County SO EOW 2/12/21

Ofc. Mitchell A. Penton, Dallas PD EOW 2/13/21

Ofc. Genaro Guerrero, U.S. Border Patrol EOW 2/15/21

Cor. Ofc. Tawiwo Obele, Texas Dept. Of Corrections EOW 2/16/21

Maj. Esteban Ramirez III, Bell County SO EOW 2/16/21

Dy. Manuel P. De La Rosa, Hays County CO EOW 2/16/21

Sgt. Richard P. Brown, Fresno PD EOW 2/17/21

Dy. Michael J. Magli, Pinellas County SO EOW 2/17/21

Ofc. Horacio S. Dominguez, Miccosukee Tribal PD EOW 2/21/21

Lt. Eugene Lasco, Indiana Dept. Of Corrections EOW 2/21/21

Natural Resources Ofc. Jason Lagore, Ohio DNR EOW 2/23/21

Parole Ofc. Troy K. Morin, Texas Parole Division EOW 2/23/21

Ofc. Carlos Mendoza, U.S. Homeland Security EOW 2/24/21

Dy. Thomas J. Albanese, Los Angeles County SO EOW 2/25/21

K9 Luna, Duluth PD EOW 2/25/21

Res. Dy. Martinus M. Mitchum, 2nd City Court Of New Orleans EOW 2/26/21

Ofc. Dominic J. Winum, Stanley PD EOW 2/26/21

Capt. Justin W. Bedwell, Decatur County SO EOW 3/1/21

Ofc. Jose L. Anzora, Los Angeles PD EOW 3/3/21

Lt. Kenny L. Gibbons, Dyer County SO EOW 3/4/21

Cor. Ofc. Tracey Adams, Texas Dept. Of Corrections EOW 3/6/21

Ofc. Crispin S. San Jose, U.S. Border Patrol EOW 3/9/21

Ofc. Jesse P. Madsen, Tampa PD EOW 3/9/21

Sgt. Barry E. Henderson, Polk County SO EOW 3/9/21

Dy. Stanley Burdic, Douglas County SO EOW 3/11/21

Ofc. Gary Hibbs, Chicago Heights PD EOW 3/12/21

Agent Alejandro Flores-Bañuelos, U.S. Border Patrol EOW 3/15/21

Ofc. Kevin Valencia, Orlando PD EOW 3/15/21

Sgt. LaShonda Owens, Northampton County SO EOW 3/18/21

Ofc. Matt North, Bernice PD EOW 3/20/21

Ofc. Eric H. Talley, Boulder PD EOW 3/22/21

Chief Fred A. Posavetz, Clinton Township PD EOW 3/22/21

Cor. Ofc. Robert McFarland, Iowa Dept. Of Corrections EOW 3/23/21

SM Tpr. Todd A. Hanneken, Illinois State Police EOW 3/25/21

Cpl. Kyle J. Davis, Washington County SO EOW 3/25/21

Tpr. Joseph Gallagher, New York State Police EOW 3/26/21

Sgt. Shane Owens, Broward County SO EOW 3/27/21

Tpr. Chad M. Walker, Texas Highway Patrol EOW 3/28/21

Res. Dy. James Driver, Monroe County SO EOW 3/29/21

Cor. Ofc. Luis A. Hernandez, Texas Dept. Of Corrections EOW 3/31/21

Ofc. William F. Evans, U.S. Capitol PD EOW 4/2/21

Lt. James Kouski, Hometown PD EOW 4/3/21

Ofc. Brent N. Hall, Newton Grove PD EOW 4/3/21

Dy. Joseph B. Gore, Brunswick County SO EOW 4/3/21

Dy. Christopher W. Knight, Bibb County SO EOW 4/6/21

Sgt. James K. Smith, Iowa State Patrol EOW 4/9/21

Cor. Dy. Willie L. Dortch, Shelby County SO EOW 4/9/21

Dy. Thomas P. Barnes, Jefferson Davis County SO EOW 4/10/21

Dy. Carlos A. Hernandez, Palm Beach County SO EOW 4/11/21

Agent Christopher S. Simpkins, U.S. Border Patrol EOW 4/12/21

Det. Harry O. D’Onofrio, New York PD EOW 4/14/21

Detention Dy. Mark E. Anderson, Olmsted County SO EOW 4/15/21

Cor. Ofc. Jimmy Garcia, Texas Dept. Of Corrections EOW 4/15/21

Ofc. David Parde, Lexington PD EOW 4/18/21

Dy. Terry Dyer, Madison County SO EOW 4/20/21

K9 Joker, Indian River County SO EOW 4/21/21

Dy. Alexander Gwosdz, Harris County SO EOW 4/22/21

Cor. Ofc. Alexey B. Aguilar, Miami-Dade Dept. Of Corrections EOW 4/23/21

K9 Kozmo, Mesquite PD EOW 4/26/21

Lt. Adam Whisenant, Florida Div Alcoholic Beverages/Tobacco EOW 4/27/21

Det. Anastasios Tsakos, New York PD EOW 4/27/21

K9 Jango, Bakersfield PD EOW 4/27/21

Cpl. Keith Heacook, Delmar PD EOW 4/28/21

Sgt. Chris Ward, Watauga County SO EOW 4/28/21

Dy. Logan Fox, Watauga County SO EOW 4/28/21

Ofc. Christopher Farrar, Chandler PD EOW 4/30/21

Det. Ofc. Michael Wall, Los Angeles County Probation Dept. EOW 4/30/21

Cor. Ofc. David J. Jean-Baptiste, Miami-Dade County Corrections EOW 5/1/21

Ofc. David A. Marshall, Texas Christian University PD EOW 5/1/21

Sgt. John Burright, Oregon State Police EOW 5/4/21

Agent Freddie Vazquez, U.S. Border Patrol EOW 5/8/21

Det. Luca Benedetti, San Luis Obispo PD EOW 5/10/21

Dy. Samuel A. Leonard, Concho County SO EOW 5/10/21

Sgt. Stephen Jones, Concho County SO EOW 5/10/21

Ofc. Jimmy Inn, Stockton PD EOW 5/11/21

K9 Khan, Monroe County SO EOW 5/14/21

K9 Jaeger, Stephens County SO EOW 5/14/21

Dy. James Herrera, Denver SO EOW 5/16/21

Lt. Adam Gustafson, West Fargo PD EOW 5/18/21

Supt. Scott D. Mahoney, Delaware County Bureau Of Park Police EOW 5/18/21

Ofc. Chris Oberheim, Champaign PD EOW 5/19/21

Ofc. Jeremy Brinton, Nogales PD EOW 5/21/21

Cpl. Thomas W. Frazier, Artesia PD EOW 5/21/21

Ofc. Scott Triplett, Memphis PD EOW 5/22/21

Det. Stephen C. Arnold, Jefferson Parish SO EOW 5/23/21

Conservation Ofc. Sarah A. Backer-Grell, Minnesota DNR EOW 5/24/21

Dy. Daniel Trujillo, Denver SO EOW 5/26/21

Tpr. John Harris, Mississippi Highway Patrol EOW 5/28/21

Agent Juan M. Urrutia, U.S. Border Patrol EOW 5/28/21

Dy. Dustin K. Speckels, Hays County SO EOW 5/30/21

Ofc. Ginarro A. New, Phoenix PD EOW 5/31/21

Sgt. Dominic Vaca, San Bernardino County SO EOW 5/31/21

Det. Ryan Park, San Diego PD EOW 6/4/21

Det. Jamie Huntley-Park, San Diego PD EOW 6/4/21

Ofc. Enmanuel Familia, Worcester PD EOW 6/4/21

K9 Kitt, Braintree PD EOW 6/4/21

Dy. William H. Smith, Baldwin County SO EOW 6/6/21

Ofc. Steven L. Rodriguez, New York PD EOW 6/9/21

Sgt. Erasmo García-Torres, DDP De Puerto Rico EOW 6/10/21

Ofc. Alexandra B. Harris, Seattle PD EOW 6/13/21

Sgt. Paul K. Mooney, Texas Highway Patrol EOW 6/14/21

Ofc. Joseph W. Burson, Holly Springs PD EOW 6/17/21

Sgt. Thomas E. Sawyer, Hammond PD EOW 6/17/21

Cor. Ofc. Gabriel Forrest, Washington State Dept. Corrections EOW 6/17/21

Sgt. Rick Entmeier, Ft. Smith PD EOW 6/18/21

Ofc. Lewis F. Cantey, Grand River Dam Authority PD EOW 6/18/21

Lt. Clinton J. Ventrca, Corinth PD EOW 6/20/21

Ofc. Gordon Beesly, Arvada PD EOW 6/21/21

K9 Zena, Cocoa PD EOW 6/23/21

Ofc. Jason T. Swanger, Las Vegas Metropolitan PD EOW 6/24/21

Ofc. Kevin Apple, Pea Ridge PD EOW 6/26/21

Dy. Anthony Redondo, Imperial County SO 6/26/21

K9 Max, St. Joseph PD EOW 6/30/21

Lt. Leslie Lentz, Missouri Dept. Of Corrections EOW 7/1/21

Det. Jon A. Cooke, Hollywood PD EOW 7/2/21

Ofc. Clinton A. Martin, Alpharetta PD EOW 7/3/21

Det. Greg Ferency, Terre Haute PD EOW 7/7/21

Cpl. Darryl D. Cross; Jr., Detroit PD EOW 7/8/21

Capt. Clay M. Germany, Wichita PD EOW 7/9/21

Ofc. William E. Collins; Jr., Doyline PD EOW 7/9/21

Sgt. Joshua B. Bartlett, Lubbock County SO EOW 7/15/21

Det. Juan A. Delgado, Bay City PD EOW 7/15/21

Ofc. Ruben Facio, U.S. Border Patrol EOW 7/17/21

Reserve Dy. Tom L. Hoobler, Childress County SO EOW 7/17/21

Sgt. Sonny L. Orbin, Missouri Dept. Of Corrections EOW 7/18/21

Ofc. Ricky N. Roberts, McLennan Community College PD EOW 7/19/21

Dy. Ray W. McCrary; Jr., Shelby County SO EOW 7/20/21

Ofc. Michael A. Sillman, Marion County SO EOW 7/20/21

Cor. Ofc. Robert L. Welch III, Missouri Dept. Of Corrections EOW 7/22/21

Ofc. J. Adam Ashworth, St. George PD EOW 7/22/21

Sgt. Jeremy Brown, Clark County SO EOW 7/23/21

Dy. Phillip J. Campas, Kern County SO EOW 7/25/21

Cor. Ofc. Daniel Giorgi, Texas Dept. Of Corrections EOW 7/25/21

K9 Jas, Savannah PD EOW 7/25/21

K9 Rex, Michigan State Police EOW 7/25/21

Ofc. Marquis D. Moorer, Selma PD EOW 7/27/21

Ofc. Ryan A. Bialke, Red Lake Nation PD EOW 7/27/21

Lt. Matthew D. Razukas, New Jersey State Police EOW 7/27/21

Cpl. Albert R. Gomez, White Settlement PD EOW 7/27/21

Dy. Justin Smith, Burt County SO EOW 7/28/21

Lt. Gilbert C. McClure, Texarkana PD EOW 7/28/21

Tpr. Micah D. May, Nevada Highway Patrol EOW 7/29/21

Ofc. Jonathan M. Gumm, Joint Base Lewis-McChord PD EOW 7/29/21

Supervisory Agent Daniel P. Cox, U.S. Border Patrol EOW 7/31/21

Ofc. Lewis A. Traylor, Austin PD EOW 7/31/21

Agent Edgardo Acosta-Feliciano, U.S. Border Patrol EOW 7/31/21

Dy. Shaun C. Waters, Harris County SO EOW 8/1/21

Cor. Ofc. Maurice Jackson, Robertsdale PD EOW 8/3/21

Sheriff Lee D. Vance, Hinds County SO EOW 8/3/21

Ofc. Scott R. Dawley, Nelsonville PD EOW 8/3/21

Ofc. George Gonzalez, Pentagon Force Protection Agency EOW 8/3/21

K9 Byrd, Texas Highway Patrol EOW 8/3/21

Ofc. Brian R. Pierce; Jr., Brooklyn PD EOW 8/4/21

Dy. James Morgan, Baxter County SO EOW 8/5/21

Ofc. Bryan C. Hawkins, Lake City PD EOW 8/5/21

Dy. Brandon A. Shirley, Jefferson County SO EOW 8/5/21

Ofc. Ella G. French, Chicago PD EOW 8/7/21

Lt. Lonny Hempstead, Lafayette County SO EOW 8/10/21

Lt. Dennis D. Sylvester; Jr., Port Wentworth PD EOW 8/11/21

Reserve Sgt. John R. Bullard; Jr., Independence PD EOW 8/11/21

Cor. Dy. Michael A. Nowak, Leon County SO EOW 8/11/21

Capt. Ramsey O. Mannon, Effingham County SO EOW 8/12/21

Cor. Ofc. Dennis Bennett, Missouri Dept. Of Corrections EOW 8/12/21

Agent Robert D. Daffin; Jr., George County SO EOW 8/12/21

Sp. Agent Gregory C. Holland, U.S. VA Police Services EOW 8/13/21

K9 Riggs, Oakland County SO EOW 8/13/21

Ofc. Juan M. Gomez-Lopez, Pelham PD EOW 8/14/21

Ofc. Jennifer B. Sepot, Ft. Lauderdale PD EOW 8/14/21

Tpr. Lazaro R. Febles, Florida Higway Patrol EOW 8/14/21

Sgt. Ryan J. Proxmire, Kalamazoo County SO EOW 8/15/21

Ofc. Robert C. Cloninger Mt. Gilead PD EOW 8/15/21

Sgt. Steven Mazzotta, Lee County SO EOW 8/16/21

Det. Raymond O. Williamson, Pasco County SO EOW 8/16/21

Ofc. Robert A. Williams, West Palm Beach PD EOW 8/16/21

Dy. Dennis W. Dixon, Catawba County SO EOW 8/16/21

Forensic Spc. Hans Molina-Terrazas, Stein Forensic Facility EOW 8/16/21

Agent Ricardo Zarate, U.S. Border Patrol EOW 8/16/21

Ofc. Jason Raynor, Daytona Beach PD EOW 8/17/21

Ofc. Yokemia L. Conyers, U.S. Border Patrol EOW 8/18/21

Sgt. Joe Olivares, Texas Dept. Of Corrections EOW 8/18/21

Ofc. Edward Perez, Miami Beach PD EOW 8/19/21

Dy. Eric O. Ritter, Moore County SO EOW 8/19/21

Sgt. John Harris, Tulsa County SO EOW 8/19/21

Sgt. Kuo-Sheng Wang, South Houston PD EOW 8/19/21

Ofc. Monica J. Riola, U.S. Border Patrol EOW 8/20/21

Sgt. Frank Tobar, Palm Bay PD EOW 8/20/21

Sgt. Patrick W. Madison, Coral Springs PD EOW 8/20/21

Det. Rodney L. Davis, Waycross PD EOW 8/20/21

Cor. Ofc. Darryl Goodrich; Jr., Washington Dept. Of Corrections EOW 8/20/21

K9 Ivar, Livingston Parish SO EOW 8/20/21

Dy. Harry Hutchinson, Blount County SO EOW 8/21/21

Dy. Jody Hull; Jr., St. Johns County SO EOW 8/21/21

Cor. Dy. Kevin Kokinis, Branch County SO EOW 8/22/21

Tpr. James J. Monda, New York State Police EOW 8/22/21

Det. Manuel C. Widner, Paris PD EOW 8/22/21

Ofc. Matthew A. Jimenez, Beeville PD EOW 8/22/21

Reserve Ofc. David Ruiz, Dallas PD EOW 8/22/21

Sgt. Thomas Infante, Harris County CO EOW 8/22/21

Dy. Christopher Broadhead, Polk County SO EOW 8/23/21

Ofc. Erik J. Skelton, U.S. Border Patrol EOW 8/24/21

Dy. Roger A. Mitchell, Sullivan County SO EOW 8/24/21

Dy. 1st Class Douglas L. Clark, Manatee County SO EOW 8/25/21

Chief Kenneth Kirkland, Colquitt PD EOW 8/25/21

Capt. Joseph Manning, Wayne County SO EOW 8/25/21

Dy. Christopher J. Bachelor, Hall County SO EOW 8/25/21

Sgt. John L. Trout, Bernice PD EOW 8/25/21

Cor. Dy. Lakiesha Tucker, Shelby County SO EOW 8/25/21

Senior Ofc. Randolph Boyd; Jr., Austin PD EOW 8/25/21

Sgt. Clay Garrison, Port Of Galveston PD EOW 8/25/21

Ofc. Brandon Ard, Orange Beach PD EOW 8/26/21

Ofc. Harminder Grewal, Galt PD EOW 8/26/21

Cor. Ofc. Trainee Whitney Cloud, Florida Dept. Of Corrections EOW 8/26/21

Dy. 1st Class Paul Luciano, Flagler County SO EOW 8/26/21

Senior Sgt. Steve Urias, Austin PD EOW 8/26/21

Sgt. Christopher R. Wilson, Texas Parks & Wildlife Dept. EOW 8/26/21

Det. Anthony Standley, Oyster Creek PD EOW 8/26/21

Ofc. Michael Weiskopf, St. Petersburg PD EOW 8/27/21

Cor. Ofc. James N. Henry, Hays County SO EOW 8/27/21

Tpr. Sean C. Hryc, Florida Highway Patrol EOW 8/28/21

Sgt. Jason Donaldson, Caldwell County SO EOW 8/28/21

K9 Axel, Kent County SO EOW 8/28/21

Ofc. Shane Green, Sheridan PD EOW 8/29/21

Agent Chad E. McBroom, U.S. Border Patrol EOW 8/29/21

Dy. Clint R. Seagle, Clay County SO 8/29/21

Ofc. Edgar Pales; Jr., Owasso PD EOW 8/29/21

Sgt. Eric Scherr, Aurora PD EOW 8/30/21

Capt. Michael J. Stokes, Houston County SO EOW 8/30/21

Cor. Sgt. Ledell Graham, North Carolina Dept. Of Corrections EOW 8/30/21

Public Safety Ofc. Dustin M. Beasley, North Augusta DPS EOW 8/30/21

K9 Duke, Virginia State Police EOW 8/30/21

Dy. 1st Class William Diaz, Lee County SO EOW 8/31/21

Ofc. Freddie J. Castro, Overland Park PD EOW 8/31/21

Ofc. Trey Copeland, Cotton Valley PD EOW 8/31/21

Dy. Carlos D. Ortiz, Colorado County SO EOW 8/31/21

Lt. Robert Travelstead, Sonoma County SO EOW 9/1/21

Sgt. Daniel E. Watts, Jacksonville Beach PD EOW 9/1/21

Ofc. Gregory R. Young, Vernon College PD EOW 9/1/21

Sgt. Brian Mohl, Connecticut State Police EOW 9/2/21

Senior Ofc. David B. Saavedra, U.S. Border Patrol EOW 9/2/21

Sgt. William J. Yancey, Lake City PD EOW 9/2/21

Ofc. Frankie A. Gutierrez, Newnan PD EOW 9/2/21

Inv. Richard W. Humphrey, Baldwin County DA Office EOW 9/3/21

Dy. Jody Smith, Carroll County SO EOW 9/3/21

Det. Sgt. Derek E. Sidwell, Overton County SO EOW 9/3/21

Dy. Ronald R. Butler, Bexar County SO EOW 9/3/21

Marshal Michael A. Keathley, West PD EOW 9/3/21

Cor. Ofc. Honorato Antones, Texas Dept. Of Corrections EOW 9/3/21

Det. Tom Breedlove, Hernando County SO EOW 9/4/21

Det. Ofc. Tara L. Cook, Whitfield County SO EOW 9/4/21

Ofc. Edgar Morris, Collierville PD EOW 9/4/21

Sgt. Matthew C. Moore, Arkansas Highway Police EOW 9/5/21

Dy. Michael Neau, Okaloosa County SO EOW 9/5/21

Ofc. Robert T. Joiner, Ector County Ind. School District PD EOW 9/5/21

Parole Ofc. Huey P. Prymus III, Texas Division Of Parole EOW 9/5/21

K9 Kyra, Ford County SO EOW 9/6/21

Parole Ofc. Broderick R. Daye, Iowa Dept. Of Corrections EOW 9/7/21

Cor. Ofc. Glenn Skeens, Texas Dept. Of Corrections EOW 9/7/21

Cor. Dy. Rodrigo Delgado, San Diego County Probation Dept. EOW 9/8/21

Inv. Dusty Wainscott, Grayson County SO EOW 9/8/21

Ofc. Bonnie N. Jones, Danville PD EOW 9/9/21

Ofc. Clifford D. Crouch, Tallahassee PD EOW 9/11/21

Ofc. David A. Horton, Darien PD EOW 9/11/21

Dy. Darrell L. Henderson, Shiawassee County SO EOW 9/11/21

Sgt. Gino Caputo, Barrington PD EOW 9/11/21

Det. Charles C. Vroom, Nassau County PD EOW 9/12/21

Dy. Robert C. Mills, Butler County SO EOW 9/12/21

Ofc. Stephen Jones, Barnwell PD EOW 9/12/21

Sp. Agent Dustin Slovacek, Texas Dept. Of Criminal Investigation EOW 9/12/21

Cor. Ofc. Echo Rodriguez, Texas Dept. Of Corrections EOW 9/12/21

Lt. James Guynes, Monroe County SO EOW 9/13/21

Sgt. Bobby Williams, Muscogee County SO EOW 9/13/21

Ofc. Noah R. LeBlanc, Laguna Vista PD EOW 9/13/21

Sgt. Shad Hammond, Texas Dept. Of Corrections EOW 9/13/21

Cor. Ofc. Jose A. Hernandez, Texas Dept. Of Corrections EOW 9/13/21

Dy. Willie E. Hall, Jefferson County SO EOW 9/14/21

Ofc. Blaize Madrid-Evans, Independence PD EOW 9/15/21

Probation Ofc. Julie A. Harper, North Carolina Dept. Corrections EOW 9/15/21

Cor. Ofc. Chris Watson, Texas Dept. Of Corrections EOW 9/15/21

Sgt. Steven L. Marshall, Chatsworth PD EOW 9/15/21

K9 Tito, Eufaula PD EOW 9/15/21

Ofc. Michelle Gattey, Georgetown PD EOW 9/16/21

Lt. Earnest Oldham, Plano PD EOW 9/16/21

Capt. David E. MacAlpine, New Hanover County SO EOW 9/17/21

Ofc. Carl Proper, Kings Mountain PD EOW 9/17/21

Lt. John Stewart, Lake City PD EOW 9/17/21

Sgt. Richard J. Frankie, Ft. Bend Ind. School District PD EOW 9/17/21

Tpr. Brian Pingry, Florida Highway Patrol EOW 9/18/21

Cpl. Gregory Campbell, Richmond County SO EOW 9/18/21

Lt. Brandi Stock, Brooklet PD EOW 9/19/21

Ofc. Jimmie A. Shindler, Memphis PD EOW 9/20/21

Senior Ofc. William Jeffrey, Houston PD EOW 9/20/21

Sgt. Sherman Peebles, Muscogee County SO EOW 9/21/21

Sgt. David Miller, Clarksville PD EOW 9/22/21

Cor. Ofc. Cleadas Sherman, Texas Dept. Of Corrections EOW 9/22/21

Ofc. Joseph J. Kurer, Fond Du Lac PD EOW 9/22/21

Agent Luis H. Dominguez, U.S. Border Patrol EOW 9/23/21

Dy. Luke R. Gross, Hancock County SO EOW 9/23/21

Senior Cpl. Arnulfo Pargas, Dallas PD EOW 9/23/21

Cpl. Charles W. Catron, Carroll County SO EOW 9/23/21

Senior Dy. Phillip D. Barron; Jr., Victoria County SO EOW 9/24/21

Ofc. Anthony C. Testa, West Palm Beach PD EOW 9/25/21

Dy. Matthew Locke, Hardin County SO EOW 9/25/21

Cor. Ofc. Charles Hughes, Texas Dept. Of Corrections EOW 9/25/21

Cor. Ofc. Connell Foreman, Texas Dept. Of Corrections EOW 9/25/21

Agent David B. Ramirez, U.S. Border Patrol EOW 9/26/21

Dy. Joshua Moyers, Nassau County SO EOW 9/26/21

Cpl. Robert W. Nicholson, Clark County SO EOW 9/26/21

Ofc. Donald Hall, Magnolia PD EOW 9/26/21

Undersheriff Jeffrey Montoya, Colfax County SO EOW 9/26/21

Ofc. Brian L. Rowland, Pittsburgh Bureau Of Police EOW 9/26/21

Ofc. Gregory L. Triplett, Waverly PD EOW 9/26/21

Tpr. Eric T. Gunderson, Washington State Patrol EOW 9/26/21

Agent Alfredo M. Ibarra, U.S. Border Patrol EOW 9/27/21

Det. Ofc. Tony L. Bruce, Bay County SO EOW 9/27/21

Ofc. Howard K. Smith III, Owasso PD EOW 9/27/21

Sgt. Joshua W. Stewart, Sullivan County SO EOW 9/27/21

Chief Derek S. Asdot, Green Cove Springs PD EOW 9/28/21

Sgt. Michael T. Thomas, Griffin PD EOW 9/28/21

Sgt. Logan Davis, Iron County SO EOW 9/28/21

Cor. Cpl. Terrell K. Jordan, Miami-Dade Dept. Of Corrections EOW 9/29/21

Sgt. Donald W. Ramey, Transylvania County SO EOW 9/29/21

Cor. Lt. David W. Reynolds, Butler County SO EOW 9/30/21

Dy. Teresa H. Fuller, Wilson County SO EOW 9/30/21

Cor. Ofc. Calyne St. Val, Miami-Dade Dept. Of Corrections EOW 10/1/21

Senior Insp. Jared Keyworth, U.S. Marshals Service EOW 10/1/21

Capt. James A. Sisk, Culpeper County SO EOW 10/1/21

Sgt. Nick Risner, Sheffield PD EOW 10/2/21

Ofc. Darrell D. Adams, Memphis PD EOW 10/2/21

Cor. Ofc. Melissa Maldonado, Texas Dept. Of Corrections EOW 10/3/21

Group Supervisor Michael G. Garbo, DEA EOW 10/4/21

Cor. Ofc. Sylvia L. Allen, Miami-Dade Dept. Of Corrections EOW 10/4/21

Ofc. Julio C. Herrera; Jr., Charlotte-Mecklenburg PD EOW 10/4/21

Cor. Ofc. Vassar Richmond, Bartlett PD EOW 10/4/21

Cor. Ofc. Thomas S. Collora, Texas Dept. Of Corrections EOW 10/5/21

Cor. Ofc. Garland Chaney, Texas Dept. Of Corrections EOW 10/5/21

Sgt. John R. Lowry, Suffolk County SO EOW 10/6/21

Dy. Dale L. Wyman, Hardeman County SO EOW 10/6/21

Ofc. Victor Donate, U.S. Border Patrol EOW 10/7/21

Cpl. Timothy M. Tanksley, Alto PD EOW 10/8/21

Dy. John R. King, Lyon County SO EOW 10/8/21

Cpl. Dylan M. Harrison, Alamo PD EOW 10/9/21

Mstr. Tpr. Adam Gaubert, Louisiana State Police EOW 10/9/21

Mstr. Dy. William E. Marsh, Rowan County SO EOW 10/10/21

Sgt. Michael D. Rudd, La Paz County SO EOW 10/11/21

Dy. Juan M. Ruiz, Maricopa County SO EOW 10/11/21

Det. Ofc. Anthony Nicoletti, Mohave County SO EOW 10/11/21

Lt. William O. McMurtray III, Burke County SO EOW 10/11/21

Cor. Ofc. Toamalama Scanlan, Fresno County SO EOW 10/12/21

Cor. Lt. Dennis E. Boykin, North Carolina Dept. Of Corrections EOW 10/12/21

Deportation Ofc. Bradley K. Kam, ICE EOW 10/12/21

Ofc. Ty A. Powell, Windsor PD EOW 10/13/21

Comd. Sgt. Richard A. McMahan, Columbus PD EOW 10/13/21

Dy. Oliver Little, Floyd County SO EOW 10/13/21

Ofc. James E. Simonetti, Carnegie Mellon University PD EOW 10/13/21

Sgt. Raquel V. Saunders, Amarillo PD EOW 10/13/21

Sgt. William W. Gay, Bibb County SO EOW 10/14/21

Dy. Kareem Atkins, Harris County CO EOW 10/16/21

Det. Rodney L. Mooneyham, Denton PD EOW 10/16/21

Ofc. Yandy Chirino, Hollywood PD EOW 10/17/21

Ofc. Ryan A. Hayworth, Knightdale PD EOW 10/17/21

Ofc. Andrew R. MacDonald, Grand Prairie PD EOW 10/18/21

Inv. Tracy J. Dotson, Dallas County DA Office EOW 10/19/21

Tpr. Ted L. Benda, Iowa State Patrol EOW 10/20/21

Dy. Donald A. Poffenroth, Pershing County SO EOW 10/20/21

Sgt. Manuel Rodriguez, Florida Off. Ag. Law Enforcement EOW 10/21/21

Dy. Joshua J. Welge, Sarasota County SO EOW 10/21/21

Sgt. Richard C. Howe, Pittsburgh Bureau Of Police EOW 10/21/21

Tpr. Dung X. Martinez, Pennsylvania State Police EOW 10/21/21

Sgt. Michael D. Dunn, Amarillo PD EOW 10/22/21

Ofc. Jason M. Belton, Erie PD EOW 10/24/21

Supervisory Agent Rafael G. Sanchez, U.S. Border Patrol EOW 10/24/21

Ofc. Stephen Evans, Burns PD EOW 10/25/21

Ofc. Tyler Timmins, Pontoon Beach PD EOW 10/26/21

Ofc. Thomas K. Hutchinson, Haltom City PD EOW 10/27/21

Senior Ofc. Matthew L. Lyons, U.S. Border Patrol EOW 10/28/21

Ssg. Jesse Sherrill, New Hampshire State Police EOW 10/28/21

Lt. David Formeza, Perth Amboy PD EOW 10/28/21

Chief Buddy Crabtree, Ider PD EOW 10/30/21

Dy. David Cook, Kent County SO EOW 11/1/21

Sgt. Timothy Werner, Pittsburgh Bureau Of Police EOW 11/2/21

Det. Sgt. Gary R. Taccone, Erie PD EOW 11/3/21

Dy. John E. Moon, Waller County SO EOW 11/3/21

Senior Ofc. Sherman O. Benys; Jr., Kingsville PD EOW 11/4/21

Agent Anibal A. Perez, U.S. Border Patrol EOW 11/5/21

Cor. Ofc. Juan Cruz; Jr., Fresno County SO EOW 11/5/21

Sgt. Scott M. Patton, Robinson Township PD EOW 11/6/21

Cpl. Ignacio J. Romero, Lander County SO EOW 11/7/21

Dy. Lena N. Marshall, Jackson County SO EOW 11/8/21

Ofc. Paramhans D. Desai, Henry County PD EOW 11/8/21

K9 Rogue, Cedar Park PD EOW 11/8/21

Sgt. Dominic Guida, Bunnell PD EOW 11/9/21

Lt. Chad O. Brackman, Maricopa County SO EOW 11/10/21

Det. Michael J. Dion, Chicopee PD EOW 11/10/21

Cor. Ofc. Kevin Dupree, Texas Dept. Of Corrections EOW 11/11/21

Ofc. Michael D. Chandler, Big Stone Gap PD EOW 11/13/21

Parole Ofc. Ty’Isha Harper, Texas Parole Division EOW 11/15/21

Mstr. Tpr. Daniel A. Stainbrook, Wisconsin State Patrol EOW 11/15/21

Cor. Ofc. Rhonda J. Russell, Blair County Prison EOW 11/17/21

Dy. Frank Ramirez; Jr., Independence County SO EOW 11/18/21

Code Enforcement Ofc. Adam R. Arbogast, Parsons PD EOW 11/25/21

Supervisory Agent Martin Barrios, U.S. Border Patrol EOW 11/29/21

Ofc. Henry Laxson, Clayton County PD EOW 11/30/21

Agent Salvador Martinez; Jr., U.S. Border Patrol EOW 11/30/21

Pc. Madison Nicholson, Wilcox County CO EOW 12/1/21

Det. Antonio A. Valentine, St. Louis County PD EOW 12/1/21

Dy. Clay Livingston, Elbert County SO EOW 12/3/21

Ofc. Richard Houston II, Mesquite PD EOW 12/3/21

Senior Ofc. Eric Lindsey, Austin PD EOW 12/5/21

Ofc. Theodore J. Ohlemeier, Colwich PD EOW 12/8/21

Det. Joseph Pollack, Douglas County SO EOW 12/9/21

Cpl. Jack L. Guthrie; Jr., Dallas College PD EOW 12/9/21

Dy. Jailer Robert Daniel, Graves County Jail EOW 12/10/21

Ofc. Jeremy M. Wilkins, Chandler PD EOW 12/17/21

Ofc. Zachary D. Cottongim, Louisville Metro PD EOW 12/18/21

Ofc. Chad P. Christiansen, Volk Field Security Forces EOW 12/18/21

Sgt. Kevin D. Redding, Haverford Township PD EOW 12/20/21

Ofc. Mia D. Figueroa-Goodwin, Charlotte-Mecklenburg PD EOW 12/22/21

Ofc. Keona Holley, Baltimore City PD EOW 12/23/21

Agent José Ferrer-Pabón, DDP De Puerto Rico EOW 12/24/21

Lt. Matthew A. Vogel, Hudson County SO EOW 12/27/21

Dy. Sean Riley, Wayne County SO EOW 12/29/21

Sgt. Marlene Rittmanic, Bradley PD EOW 12/30/21

4 notes · View notes