#tyler rake x ofc

[chickensarentcheap]

Lost and Found - Chapter 30

Fandom: Extraction

Pairing: Tyler Rake and Esme Drummond (OFC. You do not have to read the original series to understand this fic)

Warnings: slight profanity

It's a lot of dialogue. Sorry :(

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

Link to Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/43179357/chapters/139296199

My tag list is OPEN. Just let me know if you’d lke to be added :D

****

“I figure in a couple of days we’ll go into town. Get you and Millie all the things you still need.”

His voice is raw and husky; laced with both sleep and contentment as it rumbles deep within his chest. Scarred and misshapen knuckles repeatedly skim the length of her spine; their naked bodies pressed tightly together, caught in a mess of rumpled sheets and tangled limbs. Spent and sated; droplets of perspiration littering their skin and gathering at their temples and the napes of their necks. Their lovemaking had been uncharacteristically slow and tender; a combination of reconnecting and worshipping one another’s bodies and his desire to not cause any more discomfort as she continues her recovery.

“It’s a pretty lengthy list.” Her head rests on his chest; eyes closed as the fingers of one hand lazily trace the tattoo that graces his ribs. “We didn’t exactly come with much. Lots of things were left behind. At Alessio’s.”

“Doesn’t matter how much there is. I don’t care how many lists there are. Whatever you guys need…fuck, whatever you guys WANT…we get. Simple as that.”

“You’re going to create a hell of a predicament for yourself,” she chides and repeatedly brushes the tip of her nose along his collarbone. “People are going to think you hooked up with a gold digger.”

“Yeah, right,” Tyler chuckles, palm briefly lingering at the small of her back, calloused fingertips drifting over the curve of each buttock. “Because there’s just so much gold to dig for.”

“You know what people are like. They talk. It’s what they do.”

“I don’t give a shit. You should know that by now. Besides, you stuck around when I didn’t even have anything to offer you. Just tons of baggage and a shack in the outback. I think it’s safe to say you’re not with me for money.”

“Of course, I’m not with you for money.” She presses a series of kisses along his jaw. “I’m with you for your body.”

“As ancient and crumbling as it is?”

“It’s beautiful.” Lightly scraping the fingernails on one hand down his chest, she speaks between kisses and gentle nibbles on the side of his neck. “So…so…so beautiful.”

“And fat.”

She laughs against his Adam’s apple. “I did not call you fat. I called you thick. And I said it with love and admiration. And insane amounts of animalistic lust.”

His fingertips glide across her shoulders, then down the backs of her arms.“My favourite kind.”

“Mine too.” She rests her head in the nook between neck and shoulder, nose pressed against the long-healed bullet wound in the side of his throat. Her eyes closed as she reaches up to comb a hand through his longer strands of hair; allowing them to slip between her fingers before repeatedly curling and twisting sections around her index and middle fingers.

“Whatever you and Millie need, we’ll get it taken care of. Doesn’t matter how long the list is. Gotta take care of my girls, ya?”

“I like how that sounds. ‘Your girls’. There’s something so sweet about it. So…romantic. In a Tyler sort of way.”

“I can’t believe you’d call me romantic and sweet in the same sentence. What did I ever do to deserve that?”

“Listen, I know you have a reputation to uphold, but you DO have your moments. Where you’re just the softest, loveliest, cutest man on earth. You bring your own brand of romance to the table. And it’s perfect. For me, anyway.”

“Ever thought maybe you’re the one that brings all that out? That I’m not like that with everyone?”

“I already know you’re not. In the same way that I know how lucky I am. I get ALL of you. The REAL you. You’ve never hidden that from me. Not even in Dhaka.”

“I’ve never felt a reason to hide anything. Even back then. Something told me you were good people. That I could trust you. And believe me, I hadn’t felt that way about anyone in a long time. If I ever even did.”

“You trust Nik. And Yaz.”

“That’s different. That’s pretty much all business. Related to the job. I know that they always have my back. That they’ll step up if things go bad.”

“You trust them with me, don’t you? And Millie?”

“Not in the way I trust myself with the two of you.”

“That’s because you know what you’re capable of. You don’t second guess your skills or the things you can do. And you’ve always been protective of me. EXTREMELY protective. OVERLY, at times. Now add Millie to the mix…”

“I know that no one can take care of things the way I can; that the two of you are safest with me. Because I won’t fuck up. I won’t let that happen. Someone even thinks of coming near you and Millie, it’ll be the last thing they do, believe me.”

“Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that. That everything just stays calm and peaceful. That we can just let Nik and her people handle things in New York while we do our own thing here. I just want to concentrate on us. And Millie. On being a family.”

“We’ll just take it one day at a time. Concentrate on getting past what happened.”

“Do you mean in New York City? Or me taking off and never telling you about Millie?”

“Look at me…” Pushing a hand into her hair, he gently tugs on the dark tresses; encouraging her to lift her head from his chest. “...I forgive you. I know you’re having a hard time accepting that, but I do. Yeah, sometimes I’m still pissed and sometimes it hurts like hell. But I DO forgive you.”

“Just like that? Just so easily?”

“I love you. I never STOPPED loving you. And you had your reasons; for making the decisions that you did. I don’t pretend to completely understand them. Not right now, anyway. But one day I will, I’m sure.”

“I really did do it to protect you. I didn’t want anything happening to you., Tyler. And I never would have forgiven myself; if I permanently lost you because of a mistake I made. It just sucks that in the end, all I did was hurt you.”

“That’s not entirely true though, is it? I mean, I AM alive. Nothing happened to me. And things would have gone really bad if the High Table had shown up while I was there. So you DID do the right thing. If you hadn’t left, we wouldn’t be here right now. And Millie wouldn’t even exist. They wouldn’t have cared. If you were pregnant. It wouldn’t have stopped them from killing you.”

“I don’t even like thinking about that. Her NOT being here. She’s everything I ever wanted. And everything I don’t deserve.”

“There you go selling yourself short again. You deserve so much, Esme. You’re not the monster you think you are. Far from it.”

“Boy, deja vu. I seem to remember saying those EXACT same words. More than once.”

“And I learned, didn’t I? It finally got through to me.”

“You’re a lot better, that’s for sure. You’re not filled with as much self-hatred as you used to be. You know what that means, don’t you?”

“What?”

“You really can teach an old dog new tricks.”

Tyler smirks. “You are such a bitch.”

Esme laughs when he aggressively slaps and pinches her ass, then gives a content sigh when he kisses her; long and languid and deep, naked limbs sliding along one another and against the cool, wrinkled sheets. Her breath soft against his skin when she once more rests her head on the centre of his chest; her fingers drawing continuous circles around his navel while his repeatedly comb through her hair.

*****

He finds himself teetering on the edge of sleep when he feels her move against him; placing a forearm across his torso, her chin resting upon it as she peers up at him.

Pressing a kiss to her nose, his hand slides to the nape of her neck. “What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

“How have things been? With you?”

“You mean in general, or…?”

“In the last two, three years. That’s when you started scaling back on things, right? Trying your hand at a more normal life.”

“Nothing’s been normal about my life. Not for a long time. And especially not since you left.”

“I mean stuff like firefighting. And starting your business. How HAVE things been?”

“Guess I overestimated your spying abilities,” he teases and skims his knuckles across her cheek. “I thought you knew everything there was to know.”

“My spying stopped at your personal life. I knew the basics; the firefighting and how you started your own business. To be honest, I think I was scared to venture past those things.”

Cradling her cheek in his palm, he brushes the pad of his thumb over her lips. “Scared? Of what?”

“Finding out you were with someone. I know that sounds pretty stupid, considering I’m the one who fucked everything up. You had every right to go on with your life; to meet someone and fall in love and everything else that comes after that.”

“I was already in love. With YOU. And that wasn’t going to change.”

“Were you with other people? Other than Delaney.”

“Maybe in the biblical sense.”

“THAT I expected. For you to go back to sowing your wild oats all over the place.”

“Wasn’t all over the place. Just the vast majority of the northern territory. Well, the western part of it, anyway.”

“Oh, lovely. Does this mean I’m going to go to the grocery store and meet up with all kinds of women you’ve bumped uglies with?”

“I never pissed in my own front yard. It would have been too fucking awkward; running into a bunch of one-night stands.”

“I am marrying a whore,” she laughs, and presses a chaste kiss to the corner of his mouth. Briefly capturing his bottom lip between teeth when she pulls away.

“I promise you won’t run into any of my conquests while picking Millie up at school or grabbing something at Maccas.”

“Good. Because the last thing I want is to be sharing stories about your dick and its abilities while I’m in line at the store, waiting to buy shit tickets. “

He arches a quizzical brow. “Shit tickets?”

“Toilet paper.”

“And you say us Aussies have weird slang.”

“You know how long it took me to get used to the words you’d use in conversation? Or even your accent for that matter? It wasn’t that easy; trying to decipher exactly WHAT you were saying half the time. I remember how strong it got; when we were living in The Kimberley. I guess it was from being home so much.”

“Think it was easy getting used to you? You’ve got a pretty wicked accent yourself.”

“I most certainly do not.”

“You do.”

“I’m from Colorado. People from Colorado do NOT have accents.”

Raising his head from his pillow, he presses a kiss to her brow. “Trust me, babe. You do.”

“So other than Delaney…” A fingertip drifts over the scar that runs over the bridge of his nose. “...it was just one-night stands? No relationships?”

“No relationships.”

“Why?”

“I didn’t want to be in one.”

“Didn’t want to be in one or couldn’t find anyone worthy enough to be in one with?”

“A mix of both, maybe. I didn’t want anyone else, Esme. Not in that way. A serious way. I wanted YOU. And if it meant I waited forever or you never found your back…”

“You would have found someone eventually. Someone that you’d fall madly in love with. Marry, have a family…”

“No. I wouldn’t have. Because that is everything I wanted with YOU. Not anyone else.”

“You don’t think you could have learned to love her? Delaney? That you could have moved on and…”

“How could I move on when I was still in love with you? When I always would be in love with you. And why are we even having this conversation? This is supposed to be the start. Of everything. Of US. And talking about this…”

“I’m just curious. Trying to fill in the gaps, I guess. Because I love you and I want to know what I missed. Even if it makes me uncomfortable.”

“You didn’t miss much, believe me.”

“Do you like it? Firefighting?”

“It’s a job. The pay’s decent. Got a little bit of edge. Keeps me busy, at least.”

“You’ve never been one to sit still for very long. Not that surprising you’d thrive at something that keeps you on your toes all the time.”

“I don’t know how much it keeps me on my toes. Not the busiest area. We don’t get a lot of action. I do get a lot of cats out of trees, though.” He gives a playful wink. “And ladies love a guy in uniform, so…”

“I’ve yet to see you in uniform, but I bet you’re hot as fuck. Especially in your turn-out gear.”

“I didn’t think you’d be into that kind of thing. Seeing as your brother is a firefighter.”

“Believe me, Tae. Nothing about you could ever remind me of my brother.”

His eyes close as her fingertips explore the scar on the left side of his forehead and the second one lower on his cheekbone. It’s a form of intimacy as its purest and most innocent of roots; the soft and tender touch of a lover who adores and worships you. Who knows every inch of your body; every blemish, every imperfection. And it’s a closeness…a level of trust and vulnerability…that he’s never experienced with anyone but her.

“What about the business? I assume that’s doing pretty good.”

“Better than I ever thought it would. Got a lot of regular clients, and more and more are coming aboard all the time.”

“Do you have people that work for you?”

“I have a few full-time guys. That deal with the heavy-duty stuff; concentrate on the real manual labour. And a handful of students who help out on weekends and during school breaks. They do small repairs, landscaping stuff, things like that.”

“Who’s in charge while you’re on your little sabbatical?”

“Koen’s my right-hand man. The guy that I trust with everything. Things are being taken care of. I’m not worried about it.”

“I knew you’d find something you’d be amazing at. You always liked working with your hands; doing your own repairs on your truck, putting up the walls and installing the new windows in that little shack of yours.”

“Of OURS.”

“Millie’s really going to get on you, you know. About that treehouse. And she’s definitely going to want to be your little helper. She loves to create. Build things. She’s got a real talent for things like that.”

“I’ll have to get her own stuff. Some tools and a toolbelt, little hardhat, some steel-toed boots.”

“She’ll love that. And probably drive us completely nuts trying to fix everything around here.”

“I’ll start her out slow. Small projects. Birdhouses, flower boxes, some planters for the garden. I promise I’ll keep her away from the power tools.”

“You’re going to have to really watch out for her. Because that child? YOUR child? Isn’t just headstrong, she is completely fearless. I wonder where she gets THAT from?”

“Her mother.”

“Hardly.”

“Well, it’s not from me, that’s for sure. ‘Cause there’s plenty of things I’m afraid of. And they all seem to involve you.”

Sighing, she presses a series of soft kisses along the scar that mars his left shoulder. “I know it did a real number on you. The accident. Seeing me like that. It’s definitely bothering you way more than you’re letting on.”

“I’m not shy. I admit it fucked me right up. All the things I’ve been through? All the people I’ve gone up against? I’ve never…EVER…been that scared. Seeing you like that? Not knowing if you were alive or dead? And if you were alive, was someone going to show up to finish things off? That was…rough.”

“For what it’s worth, I’m really proud of you. For how you handled things. Not just with getting me out of there and making sure I survived, but everything AFTER that. How you just took control. Stepped up. You were banged up and exhausted and hurting and you did what you wanted to do. For Millie. Just focused on her. Took care of her.”

“Why wouldn’t I have done all that? She’s my baby, too. My little girl.”

“It was all still so fresh. So new. You’d barely had a chance to catch your breath. Coming face to face with me, finding out you were a dad again. You had your entire world turned upside down. You…”

“No. I didn’t. I got my entire world BACK.”

His honesty is raw. Real. Powerful. Succeeding in both taking her breath away and bringing tears to her eyes.

*****

“So is this where I get to ask questions now?” His fingers move in slow, methodical circles on the small of her back. “When it comes to what you’ve been doing the last five years?”

“What more is there to know? Didn’t we cover all the bases?”

“Not quite.”

“There’s not much more to tell. Not anything of interest, anyway.”

“You didn’t work or anything? What did you do with your spare time?”

“I picked up jobs here and there. For Nik. Things I could just do from home. Background checks, basic research and tracking people down. Nothing that would draw a lot of attention. So I could stay under the radar. Or try to, at least.”

“Well, you did a pretty good job hiding from me, that’s for sure.”

“We’ve talked about this. I wasn’t hiding from you. Not intentionally, anyway. It was all so complicated. I had to protect Millie. Both of her parents were still in the life. In some way. And we’d both burned a lot of bridges and made a lot of enemies. I couldn’t take the chance that someone would come after her. I just couldn’t.”

“There were other reasons, too. You know there were.”

“Selfish ones. Staying away had nothing to do with you and EVERYTHING to do with me. You know that. We’ve been through it how many times now? It was never about you, Tyler. Not in the way you think it was. At first, it was about protecting you. Then Millie. And finally, it became about myself. Because…to make a long story short… I was a stupid, insecure little girl.”

“You’re not any of those things. It was just a messy situation. All around.” Tangling his fingers in her hair, he pulls her towards him, lips meeting the bridge of her nose. “What else did you do? Other than helping out Nik?”

“Just took care of Millie, mostly. Devoted myself to being a mom. I joined a couple of those mom and baby groups; just to get out of the house and socialize and try and make friends. When she was a few months old, I even signed us up for yoga classes and water aerobics. Millie always loved the water. She was always so comfortable in it. Confident, even.”

“She’s gonna love it here, then. Trips to the beach, being able to swim in the ocean.”

“Except for the fact the thought of an encounter with a shark will be exciting to her. She’ll probably pray for it to happen. I am telling you, that girl is fearless. She’s so much like you, Tyler. More than just the physical. There’s so much of you in her. And it was kinda bittersweet, you know? Seeing you every time I looked at her but knowing I couldn’t actually be with you.”

“I mean, you could have been. But…”

“But I was a stupid little bitch. Like I said. That’s something that will eat at me for the rest of my life, believe me.”

“I don’t want it to. And I’m sorry I bring it up so much. Make you talk about it. Explain yourself. That’s not fair.”

“If anyone has the right to bring it up, it’s you.”

“I don’t want to be that kind of person. I want to be better than that. For you. And Millie.”

“I remember the first time you told me that. How I made you want to be a better man.”

“It’s true. You do.”

“I never considered you a bad man in the first place. A good man who made bad decisions, yes. But bad to your very core? Not even close.”

“You always have been full of shit,” He teases, and curls an arm around her neck, drawing her into a long, deep kiss. His lips against her temple when she settles her head on his shoulder, her eyes closed as his fingertips repeatedly graze up and down her bicep. “Tell me about the guy.”

Her hand slips lazily across his collarbone, down his chest, briefly settling on his stomach before travelling back up again. Finally coming to rest on the side of his neck, nails lightly and repeatedly scratching against the skin. “What guy?”

“The one you dated. In New York. The cop. Or detective. Or whatever the hell he was.”

Esme raises her head from his shoulder, a grin tugging at the corners of her mouth. “How did you know about him?”

“A little birdie told me.”

“A little birdie, huh? What did you bribe her with? Two scoops of mint chocolate chip instead of one? Unlimited Bluey viewing on your cell phone?”

“I promised her a Porsche when she turned sixteen.”

“I wouldn’t put anything past you. You’re going to spoil her rotten.”

“I didn’t have to promise her anything. She just offered the information.”

“Out of nowhere? She just suddenly started talking about my personal life?”

“I MAY have asked her about it.”

“Mmmhmmm.”

“Okay, so I did. I DID ask her. If you’d ever had a boyfriend. I was curious. I wanted to know.”

“Curious, huh?”

“And a bit jealous.”

“Just a bit?”

“A lot.”

“Why are you like this? When it comes to me and other men?”

“Like what? What am I like?”

“Self-conscious. You’ve always been. Even at the very beginning of things. And believe me…” Slipping out of bed, she stretches languorously before padding towards the dresser; a pair of plaid pyjama bottoms and tank top folded neatly on top. “...you do not come across as someone who would be self-conscious.”

“Did I say you could get out of bed? That you could put clothes on? There’s a strict ‘no clothes allowed’ rule in this room. Once that door closes…”

“I know what Millie’s like; if she wakes up in the middle of the night. She’ll come looking for me. And the last thing we need is her seeing both of us in all our naked glory.” Climbing into her pyjamas, she tosses his discarded sweats in his direction. “And don’t do that. Deflect. Answer my question.”

“I’m old.” He grimaces as he swings his legs over the side of the bed, moving slowly as he puts one leg into the pants, followed by the other. Knees cracking when he stands to pull them up. “ My brain is mush. I already forgot what the question was.”

“I asked why you are the way you are. When it comes to me and other men. Why do you always get so bent out of shape about it?”

“I don’t get bent out of shape.”

“You do.” Removing her hair out of the back of her tank top, she moves back to bed; fluffing and moulding her pillows and arranging them to her specification. “And I don’t get it. There’s nothing for you to get prickly about.”

“Like you don’t get prickly about my ex-wife. Or Delaney.”

“Being curious is not the same as being prickly. What is your hang-up? When it comes to me and other people?” She gives a content sigh when she slips back into bed, settling her head on a pillow before rolling onto her side to face him. “It’s not like any of them are still in the picture. And even if they were, they still wouldn’t be a threat to you.”

“I don’t see them as a threat. I know what I bring to the table. It’s not about feeling threatened.”

“What’s it about then?”

“I just don’t like it. You being with other guys.”

“I mean, I was married, remember? I’ve had boyfriends. And girlfriends, for that matter.”

“Since you left?”

“I’m talking about throughout my entire life. And did you honestly think I wouldn’t date? Or at least try to? That I would have just spent the last five years completely alone?”

“You know how you said you were okay with me going on with my life? Meeting someone else? Falling in love, getting married, all that shit?”

Esme nods.

“I’m not that gracious. Not by a long shot. I didn’t want you with anyone else.”

“For the rest of my life?”

“Well...yeah.”

“You’re being ridiculous.” She reaches for him. “Come to bed.”

“So was this guy the real deal? Someone you could have moved on with? Gotten your ‘always and forever, happily ever after’ with? Totally forget about me and…”

“Tyler, I was never going to forget about you. I carried your child inside of me. Gave birth to her. She looks just like you. Kinda hard to forget you when I’m looking at your clone every damn day. Add the fact that I was still in love with you and always would be into the mix…”

“Would you have moved on with him? Gotten married, had more kids? All of that?”

“All of that was what I wanted with you. ONLY you. So no, none of that would have ever happened. I didn’t want that life with anyone else. Just you. And if that meant I never got any of that, oh well. Now…” She pats the empty spot beside her. “...come to bed. Please? I’ll answer whatever questions you have., but just come to bed. Because you standing there like that? It’s making me incredibly anxious.”

He relents. Laying on his side with her back pressed against his front and forearm draped across her collarbone. And he presses a kiss to the back of her head before resting his cheek against hers. “What was his name?”

“Don. His name was Don. And he was a detective. Homicide.”

“How the hell did you ever meet him?”

“I worked a small job for Nik. Nothing serious. I had to find my way into the main evidence locker at One Police Plaza and steal some papers related to an old case.”

“What the fuck….?”

“Someone hired Nik because an old money laundering and embezzlement case they were involved in was going to be reopened. And if that happened, it was going to cause a big old shitstorm; he had some big-name contacts and clients of his own that would be exposed. Some really well-known people, too. Politicians, lawyers, judges. And if all that got out…”

“Heads would roll. Most likely literally.”

“Exactly. So Nik and Yaz created an entire persona for me. I had the credentials; photo identification, passport, fake driver’s licence.”

“Who were you supposed to be?”

“An agent with Homeland Security.”

“Jesus Christ. And you don’t consider THAT serious?”

“You know, for such a huge police department with apparently the best security in the country, they were sure easy to fool. It was like taking candy from a baby. I was in and out of there in ten minutes. Not even.”

“I don’t know whether to be impressed or pissed off. That you even put yourself in a situation like that. Especially with Millie in the picture. If you’d gotten caught…”

“But I didn’t. Well, not until about six months later. But that comes further in the story.”

“So the cop…”

“We met in the elevator. I was running to catch it and he held the door open for me.”

Tyler scoffs. “What a gentleman.”

She scowls over her shoulder. “I thought you promised you wouldn’t get prickly.”

“I’m not getting prickly. I just…”

“YOU asked,” she reminds him. “You wanted to know these things, right? You have questions. I’m just answering them. Do you REALLY want to hear this stuff? Or do you just want to be angry about something?”

“I’m not prickly. Or angry. I’m jealous.”

“Of what?”

“Of anyone that even looks at you the wrong way.”

“Oh for God’s sake…”

“I was never like this before. I never used to give a shit about this kind of thing. I didn’t care how many people my ex dated or fucked before me. Because I was always so far up my own ass that I knew I was better than anyone that came before me. Sometimes I miss that guy.”

“The guy you were before me.”

“I was a drunk and a drug addict before you. So, no.”

“You weren’t ALWAYS that way. You didn’t always have those issues.”

“But I was a prick in other ways.”

“I liked the guy you were when we met. Yeah, you were messy and you had your issues, but so did I. I wasn’t a picnic, either. We were both fucked up. But it didn’t stop me from falling in love with you. And staying that way.”

“And now?”

“Now I like you even more. I’m glad you’re not totally up your own ass, as you put it. I like that you’re not afraid to talk about the hard things. That you’re able to admit you’re self-conscious or…”

“I never admitted to that.”

“Or you’re feeling spiteful or hateful or jealous. I mean, as weird as it sounds, everyone should want their man to be that way. Just completely honest. Because it doesn’t do anyone a lick of good if they keep that all bottled up.”

“So what you’re saying is that it’s okay to be a prickly asshole.”

“Don’t push your luck, Tyler.”

Grinning, he =presses a kiss to her temple. “So, this guy…”

“What more is there to know? You asked how I met him. I told you. What more do you need?”

“You just chatted in an elevator and hooked up with him, or…?”

“He asked me out for an Irish coffee. I said yes. It was as simple as that.”

“Irish coffee, huh? So that’s what the kids are calling it these days.”

“We went out. One date turned into two, two turned into three. Three turned into a relationship.”

“A serious one, or…”

“I mean, we were exclusive. We didn’t date other people. We just…I don’t know…we just did our thing.”

“Did you do HIM?”

“Tyler…”

“I want to know, okay? I NEED to know.”

“Why?”

“Because I do.”

Sighing, she presses a kiss to his forearm, then rolls over to face him. “That’s not an acceptable answer for anyone over seven.”

“Did you? I mean, I think I already know the answer, but…”

“I didn’t sleep with him. And believe me, it wasn’t for lack of opportunity. I won’t lie to you; we did other things and I enjoyed them. I enjoyed them a lot, actually. It was nice; to feel beautiful and wanted and to have someone completely and utterly devoted to you.”

“I would have given you all that. I DID give you all that.”

“And I WANTED it to be you. More than I ever wanted anything in my entire life. But it wasn’t a good time. To just show up on your doorstep. It was all so complicated. Confusing. And I needed to protect Millie. We’ve both burned a lot of bridges, Tyler. Crossed a lot of really bad people. I couldn’t put her at risk. I just couldn’t.”

“But you can now?”

“So much has changed. We’re both walking away. From this life. And I know all of this probably doesn’t make much sense to you. But it makes sense to me.”

“And you couldn’t seal the deal with this guy because…”

“Because it wasn’t fair. To him. To let things get THAT serious. He was a good man and he was great to me and Millie. But I couldn’t give him THAT. That part of me. I just couldn’t. And he didn’t realize it and I never told him about you, but It was always a competition. Between you and him. Everything he did, everything he said. All I would think about is how YOU would handle things. The things YOU would say. And I tried; I really did. But he deserved better than that; a woman who thought of someone else every time he touched or kissed her. That wasn’t fair to him. He wasn’t a bad person. Far from it.”

“I kind of feel bad now. For handling the five years like I did. Me and my wandering dick.”

“Why would you feel bad? Those were my issues. Not yours. You had every right to go on; to deal with things however way you wanted to. You were the one that got hurt.”

“Sometimes I wonder if you hurt yourself more than you hurt me.”

“It wasn’t easy. I didn’t want to leave. And I didn’t want all that time to go by; flying under the radar and keeping Millie a secret. But it was so complicated. The lives we were both living. It was never to punish you or hurt you. It was to protect you. And her.”

He nods slowly, considering her words. “So is that why things went bad? Between you and the cop? ‘Cause you wouldn’t pull the trigger?”

“He was very understanding. Very patient. He just assumed I’d come out of a bad situation and I just wasn’t ready for that kind of thing. And I didn’t bother telling him any differently.”

“So what happened? What made him walk?”

“You mean there’s something the little birdie DIDN’T tell you?”

“She did. But I’d rather hear it from you. How’d he find out? About who you REALLY were?”

“I told him.”

“That was risky.”

“Once I realized he was getting more serious and deeper into things than I expected him to, I just couldn’t do it anymore. I’d spent six months with him; half a year pretending to be someone I wasn’t.”

“Were you getting more serious about things? About HIM?”

“I mean, I liked him. I was attracted to him. And he was very good to me and Millie. He spoiled the hell out of her and she liked having him around; he took her to baseball and hockey games, they went to the zoo and the movies, he braved the Macy’s toy department more than once.”

“And I want to be happy about all that, but…”

“You weren’t there, Tyler. Through no fault of your own. Millie needed someone. A father figure. She wanted someone like that in her life.”

“She had someone like that. She had a DAD. That would have been there had he known she even existed.”

“And THIS is why I didn’t want to talk about this stuff. No matter what I say or do, it’s only going to upset you. You say you want to know everything, but deep down…”

“I have a right to know all of this stuff. I haven’t hid anything from you. About what I was up to in the last five years. I was totally honest about Delaney. It should go both ways, don’t you think?”

“I don’t want to fight. I get it; you’re hurt and you’re angry and you need to take it out on someone. I get it, Tyler. And I don’t blame you for feeling the way you do. You have every right to be pissed. But do you REALLY want to keep doing this? Bringing it up over and over again? Finding fault in everything I say? You tell me you want to hear these things and then…”

“I’m not trying to fight.” He uses his fingertips to clear hair away from the side of her face and loop it behind her ears, then presses a soft, reassuring kiss to her lips. “And I’m sorry. For acting like a prick sometimes.”

“I never said THAT.”

“Not in so many words.”

“I’m not trying to take away how you feel. You have every right to be pissed off. And hurt. You even have the right to take it out on me. But…”

“I don’t have that right. At all. And I don’t mean to do it. I know it hurts you. And you’re the last person I ever want to hurt, believe me.”

“We need help, Tyler. PROFESSIONAL help. Or we’re GOING to need it. To get past all of this. To deal with how we’re both feeling. You and your anger and your hurt and me and my regret and my guilt. I don’t think we can do it alone. Or that it’s healthy for either of us to even try.”

“You want me to see a shrink.”

“Not a shrink. A counsellor. And not just you. US. Someone who can sit with us and help us unpack all of this and work through it. I think deep down, you realize we need it. That kind of help.”

“If you think that’s the way to go…”

“I think it’s something we need to at least try. And then just go from there.”

“There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you. Including THAT.”

“Now that’s true love,” she teases, and presses a chaste to the corner of his mouth. “And I think it might do Millie some good, too. To talk to someone. She’s been through a lot; seen and heard things no kid should ever have to. I know she’s a tough little thing, but I also know she’s a lot like you; when it comes to shoving things down and pretending they don’t exist. I don’t want her growing up like that. And I know you don’t either.”

“I don’t. I don’t want that at all. Whatever she needs…whatever WE need…we’ll make it happen.”

Smiling, she kisses him; long and soft and sweet. And when she pulls away, his palm still cradles the side of her face; thumb repeatedly brushing against her cheek. “I didn’t love him.”

“I never…”

“You were going to ask. I knew it was coming.”

“Not even a little bit?”

“I was attracted to him. I cared for him. Deeply. But I didn’t love him. And I don’t think I ever would have.”

“He must have loved you. He just let you walk. After he found out the truth.”

“Maybe? I don’t know. He never said he did. Sometimes I felt, you know? And I wasn’t ready for that. I probably never would have been. None of it was fair to him; lying about who I was, allowing him to get so close, letting him think that maybe there was some kind of future…a happy ever after…in the cards. He deserved a lot better than that. A lot better than ME.”

“You’re not a horrible person, Esme. You’re…”

“I hurt people. Even the ones I love the most. It’s who I am. It’s what I do.”

“That’s bullshit and you know it. You didn’t do things because you wanted to. You did them because you HAD to. It was just part of the job. If you didn’t lie about who you were, the ending would have been a lot worse than fucking up some guy’s ego.”

“I should have never gotten involved with him. I should have done everything possible to just keep my distance. But I was lonely. I wanted someone in my life. Maybe not to have a serious thing with; I didn’t want to live with someone or get married or grow old and gray with them. He made me feel beautiful. He made me feel wanted. I hadn’t felt that in so long. And if I couldn’t get it from the person I wanted it from, I had to settle. SETTLE. How horrible does that make me sound? Talking about another human being like that?”

“It doesn’t sound horrible. It sounds…”

“Needy? Desperate?”

“No. It just sounds…sad.”

“Sad as in pathetic or…?”

“YOU sound sad. When you talk about it. And you must have been sad when it was happening.”

“I missed you. Every second of every day. And it got worse when Millie came along. I had wanted to be a mom for so long. And I finally had this beautiful little girl. Everything I ever longed for. But I couldn’t share her with you. And that wasn’t fair. To either of us. Or you.”

“See? You did hurt yourself more than you hurt me.”

“You have no idea what I went through. I just tried to shut myself off. I was in love with someone I couldn’t be with. Through no fault of his. He’d done nothing wrong. So I told myself I’d never let that happen again. Get close to someone. That it was better if I just concentrated on being a mom. And that’s what I tried to do. I DID. But…”

“Then you met this guy…”

“All of a sudden, I wasn’t as lonely anymore. There was this man that wanted me. And no, it wasn’t nearly to the depths you did. But it was…something. And I desperately needed it. More than I wanted to admit. All I wanted was to feel something…anything…again. But the more I felt for him, the more I missed you. And that’s when the competition began. He was never going to be YOU. Not even close. No matter how good of a person he was.”

“Did he just walk away or…?”

“He was hurt. Rightfully so. It’s kind of a kick in the nuts when you hear something like that; that the person you’ve spent six months with was nothing but a fake. And he felt stupid; that he didn’t sense that there was something wrong or that there was something I was hiding from him. I told him not to take it personally. It wasn’t any fault or weakness on his part. I was just that good at my job.”

“You must have horseshoes up your ass. ‘Cause for him to just walk away instead of not locking you up…”

“Maybe he felt bad for Millie. Putting me away meant she’d have no one. And I don’t think he’s the type to do that to a little kid.”

“You know what I think? I think he was in love with you. That’s why he was so forgiving.”

“And I think you’re reading too much into things.”

“I can’t say I blame him, though. I know from personal experience how easy it is. And how fast it can happen.”

“Now I think you’re overestimating my appeal.”

“Not in the fucking slightest.”

A smile curves her lips, and she reaches up to sweep hair off his forehead. A hand on his cheek as she leans in to kiss him.

“Thank you.” The fingertips of both hands slide across her shoulders and down either side of her spine, gently squeezing her ass when his lips meet her brow. For telling me. About him.”

“Thank you for not totally losing your shit. I was worried there for a minute.”

“Oh believe me, inside I was throwing tables and punching holes in walls.”

“Because that’s healthy,” she chides, cradling his face in her palms as she presses a kiss to each corner of his mouth, his cheek, chin, and finally his lips. And when she pulls away, she finds herself rendered breathless by the way he regards her; the pure adoration and devotion that softens his face and sparkles in his eyes.

It’s overwhelming at times. To be worshipped and loved in such a manner. Realizing that you’ve become such an enormous and integral part of someone’s existence. Yet it’s a love that many fear will never find them; so beautiful and all-consuming and life-altering.

Running the pad of her thumb over his lips, she sweeps her knuckles along his jaw and then wraps both arms around him. Her body pressed tightly against his as she tucks her face into that favourite spot of hers; that secure, safe place between neck and shoulder.

“It’s always been you, Tyler.” Her breath is warm and sweet against his skin. “It will always be you.”

[artemiseamoon]

Preview: Decided by Fate 2

Fic info

Tyler Rake x Destiny

Read on A03

Warnings: mercenaries

Tyler crashed hard soon after she left. It was five past midnight when he woke up, and found a note, plus neatly folded clothes on the coffee table.

This is the best I could do on short notice.

With some new clothes to wear, at least until he retrieves his belongings, he decided to take a shower and wash up.

After getting dressed, Tyler found himself intrigued by the bookshelf again. His eyes traveled to the astrology section. Tyler didn’t give this kind of thing much thought, and his knowledge of astrology started and ended with his birthday. His ex-wife had a book on star signs once, told him all about his and the meaning of his birthday, but that stuff never stuck a landing for him.

Curious, he selected a book, slid it out, then brought it over to the couch. Tyler wasn’t sure if any of this stuff was real, astrology, tarot cards, fortunes. Tyler did believe in some things though. He was spiritual, in some ways. He liked to meditate. But candles magic, lines in a hand, any of the stuff he’s surrounded by right now - he didn’t know about that…

Read on A03

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@artemiseamoon-updates

[1strong21angel22]

Convergence of Shadow Prequel story - Chapter I Born at war

[deandoesthingstome]

Fanfic Writer Wednesday

Morning!

Here's the thing. I was feeling like I might have to skip this week again, which I didn't want to do because I may have to skip next week (due to family vacation; we'll see.)

But this isn't about me. It's about you and me trying to spread some love. Scrolling through the tags of my favorite Army Captain, I came across a self-rec post from @darklydeliciousdesires and I was...intrigued. Mostly because some of the characters were NOT Sy. But I bit, clicked through and found an absolute fucking treasure trove of fic.

You guys. I'm not kidding. The depth of this masterlist of masterlists is mind boggling. It contains more than Henry and Co. but I just never think variety is a problem. To be clear: I only skimmed Henry's lists (oh and maybe I peeked at Tyler Rake because that man can get it, ammiright @littlegreenplasticsoldier ???) (Also sorry: I don't usually drop another blog in the middle of someone else's rec, but I just had to let Ali in on this one.)

Anyway. I am so glad I found this list. Did I mention I'm going on vacation? Need some beachside reading and this will do nicely.

Of the few series I started (Reflecting Light with Sy x OFC) and one-shots (Cotswolds with Henry and Little Whore with Geralt) I read this morning, I can say this: The details are amazing, the storylines hook you, the fucking opening fight scene for Tyler and Liliya in Borne of Bullets and Bloodshed is heart pounding, and the smut is impeccable.

I think this writer has a different focus than me of late, but there is still plenty of Henry and his characters for you to read about and drool over if you haven't already. And if you find a new pretty man to lust over in the process, how can that be bad in the slightest?

Read it, love it, reblog it and shout it to the rooftops. Your local fanfic writer will be forever grateful, I'm sure of it!

And need more recs? Check it out here.

As always...

[arrthurpendragon]

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

[thatfanficstuff]

Not About You - 20

Pairing: Damon Salvatore x OFC

Warnings: nope

Damon froze as he sucked in a breath and his eyes went wide. “What did you say?” His voice was breathy, heavy with disbelief.

Lucy sighed and raked a hand through her hair as she ducked her head, trying to escape his gaze. “Just forget it, Damon. I shouldn’t have said anything. What I have with you is too important to lose it.”

He placed his fingers beneath her chin to lift her head. Those piercing blue eyes searched her face before his lips curved into that familiar smirk. “What makes you think you could ever lose me?”

There was a pause, a breath, before he leaned forward and pressed his lips to hers. The kiss was gentle at first, both of them testing this new dynamic, afraid the other would pull back. When there was no protest on either side, they deepened it. Her hands fisted his shirt to hold him to her. One of his arms looped around her waist while the other hand tangled in her hair to keep her lips tight against his.

His phone rang and they both ignored it. No sooner had his stopped than hers started. She pulled it from her back pocket and glanced at the screen while keeping her lips on Damon’s. She backed away when she saw it was Stefan calling.

“Don’t answer it,” Damon said, trying to pull her back in.

“It’s your brother.”

“Then really don’t answer it.”

She pushed him back with a laugh. “He literally just saved your ass from a fire. Be nice.”

Damon scowled and settled his hands on her hips while she answered the phone.

“What’s up, Stef?”

“Lucy.”

His voice broke and her smile immediately fell. She pulled away from Damon at the sound. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

“Caroline.” He cleared his throat. “Tyler was driving when the device went off. He crashed the car. Caroline’s side took the impact. Things…things aren’t good.”

“We’ll be right there.” She ended the call and slid the phone into her back pocket. The moment she did, she was pulled into Damon’s arms.

He kissed her temple. “She’ll be alright, Lucy.”

As she hugged him back, she could only hope that he was right.

It didn’t take long to find everyone once they arrived at the hospital. Stefan stood from where he’d been talking to Matt, Tyler, and Bonnie and headed over to meet to them. Lucy stared at the witchy teenager but she didn’t even glance in their direction.

“Hey,” Stefan greeted as Lucy wrapped him up in a hug. He held her a long moment before pulling back. “She’s in surgery. There was some internal bleeding.”

“What exactly happened?” Lucy asked. Damon slid an arm around her waist and she leaned into his side.

“Tyler was driving. He apparently heard a sound that Caroline and Matt couldn’t. It caused him to crash and knocked him out. He came to suddenly and that’s when Caroline collapsed. She’d appeared fine until then.” Stefan sounded tired, worried. Lucy pulled him into another hug which he gratefully returned.

Damon placed a hand on his brother’s shoulder. “You’re in good hands here. I’m going to find Liz.” He kissed Lucy’s head before leaving.

Stefan steered her over the chairs. She sat beside him and laid her head on his shoulder, grasping his hand in both of hers.

Bonnie made a disgusted sound and Lucy tensed up. Stefan kissed the top of her head and spoke in a low tone so he wouldn’t be overheard. “Let it go.”

And Lucy was prepared to be the bigger person. She really was. After all, she was only here for Stefan and Caroline. The rest of the teenagers could fuck right off.

Then the witch went and opened her mouth. “You’re disgusting. Caroline is literally fighting for her life and you’re already moving in on her boyfriend. One Salvatore not enough for you?”

Stefan sighed as he leaned back in his seat and gestured in the direction of the teenagers telling Lucy to go ahead. He’d tried.

“I’m not doing anything with Stefan I wouldn’t do in front of Caroline. That I haven’t already done in front of her, in fact. But if we’re going to compare notes here, I’m not the one that put her in the hospital.” Lucy sat on the far side of Stefan not even bothering to look at the girl she was talking to.

“Hey, why are you bringing me into this?” Tyler protested.

She leaned forward to look at him. “Oh, I’m not talking about you, Tyler. None of this is your fault.”

All three of the teenagers looked confused so Lucy expounded. “Why did you crash?”

He glanced at Matt before answering. “There was a high-pitched sound. The pain was excruciating. I tried to keep control but I just couldn’t.”

“Anyone else you want to add to your tally tonight, Bennett?” She went back to her original position. Stefan squeezed her hand in support.

“What is she talking about, Bonnie?” Matt asked after a long stretch of quiet.

“I don’t know,” the witch denied in a quiet voice. This time it was Lucy’s turn to scoff.

The teenagers had long since left by the time Damon found his girl laying on his brother’s shoulder, her eyes closed.

“She asleep?” he asked, keeping his voice low.

“No,” she answered before sitting up and giving him a sleepy smile. “We know anything yet?”

Damon sighed. “I just left Liz. It doesn’t look good. They’ve done what they can but they aren’t sure she’ll wake up.”

Stefan groaned as he leaned back and ran a hand down his face.

The elder brother glanced around to make sure they wouldn’t be overheard. “There’s an easy way to fix this.”

“Yeah,” Stefan agreed. “I don’t think we have much of a choice.”

“It should be Damon,” Lucy contributed.

Stefan frowned. “Why?”

“Because he’s not a vegetarian.”

“She has a point, baby brother.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Stefan waved him away before pinching the bridge of his nose.

Damon was gone and back in less than five minutes. His gaze was troubled when he returned.

“What’s wrong?” Lucy asked.

“Not here,” he told them and led them outside.

“Is Caroline okay?” Stefan asked, worry heavy in his tone.

“Blondie’s fine. She was in bad shape though. It’s going to take a couple of days for the blood to be out of her system.” Damon took a deep breath. “I came across Jenna and Elena. Apparently, John Gilbert had all the fingers on one hand cut off. He just got out of surgery.”

“Couldn’t have happened to a nicer guy,” Lucy said. “And we care because?”

He waved a hand in dismissal. “We don’t. However, they were bickering because Jenna says she had a conversation with Elena that Elena swears never happened.”

Stefan’s brows lifted. “Katherine?”

Damon ran a hand through his hair. “That’s what I’m thinking.”

The silence stretched until Lucy spoke up.  “Well, there’s not a whole lot we can do about it until we know what she’s up to and I’m exhausted. Can we go home?”

He gave her a soft smile. “Yeah, kitten, we can go home now.” He laid an arm across her shoulders and pulled her into his side as he kissed the top of her head.

Lucy was barely awake by the time they arrived at the boarding house. Damon sped around and opened her door to help her out. Once he shut the door, he swept her up in his arms to carry her inside. She didn’t protest as she looped her arms around his neck and laid her head on his chest.

“I need a shower. I smell like a fire,” she said with a yawn.

He glanced down with an arched brow. “You can hardly stand on your own. How are you going to take a shower?”

“You can help.”

His steps stuttered as he entered his room. “Um…”

Lucy chuckled. “I trust you to take care of me, Day.”

He smiled and sat her on the counter in the bathroom. His hand cradled the side of her head as he ran his thumb across her cheek. “Alright, baby. Let me take care of you.”

He turned the water on in the shower so it could heat up before stepping back in front of her. He grasped the hem of her shirt and lifted, letting his hands trail up her sides unable to resist the temptation. After he tossed her t-shirt into the hamper, he gave her a swift kiss before tapping the end of her nose with one finger.

“Hop down, princess.” He steadied her when she did as ordered. He undid her jeans and worked them down her legs. His lips found her stomach on the way back up and he trailed a line of kisses from hip to hip. “Finish stripping.”

While Lucy removed her undergarments, Damon undressed before throwing all the clothes into his hamper. He scooped her up and carried her into the shower then set her down on her feet. He scrubbed them both down with his shower gel before washing her hair with extra care as it seemed to be holding most of the smoky odor. After he washed his own while she leaned against his chest humming in contentment, he shut off the water. He kissed the bend of her neck then steered her out onto the bathmat so he could reach the towels.

He dried her first with the fluffiest, softest towel she had ever felt. Her hair took the longest as he tried to take as much moisture from it as possible. She held it around her and padded into the other side of the room. The shower had woken her up just enough she could function to get herself ready for bed. She got into the dresser and threw a pair of pajama pants on the bed for Damon. “Can I sleep in here tonight?” she called.

“You never have to ask,” he said as he finished drying his head and stepped into the room where she could see him.

She nodded as she pulled a pair of boy short panties and one of Damon’s old t-shirts from the drawer in his dresser. She dropped the towel and dressed quickly. When she turned around Damon was already in the bed with the blankets turned back waiting for her.

She crawled in and he covered them up. She kissed his shoulder before curling into his side, her head on his chest. His arm wrapped around her, pulling her closer. “Goodnight, vampy.”

He huffed a laugh. “Goodnight, kitten.”

[artemiseamoon-ficart]

As long as I’m alive

Read preview here

Will Miller x ofc | TF guys| special guest Tyler Rake

[darklydeliciousdesires]

Verboten - Chapter Twenty Eight.

My loves! I am so sorry this has taken me 900 years to update, haha! But here we are, the last chapter is here! I do hope you enjoy it and I want to extend my thanks to everyone for their loyal readership. I appreciate you all more than you could ever know xx 

Previous chapters - One  Two  Three  Four  Five  Six  Seven  Eight  Nine  Ten  Eleven  Twelve  Thirteen  Fourteen  Fifteen  Sixteen  Seventeen  Eighteen  Nineteen  Twenty  Twenty One  Twenty Two  Twenty Three  Twenty Four  Twenty Five  Twenty Six  Twenty Seven

Visuals - The Verboten cast of characters post

Words - 2,391

Warnings - None

Tag list - In the comments! To be added/removed, please DM me :)

“I never expect you to forgive me, for what I did, you know.”

Ella almost laughed, making a small noise in the back of her throat. “So, we’re going straight into it, then? No pleasantries, just missile directiveness. You’ve picked that up from your man.”  

She sounded cool, a little entertained as well to begin with, but the mention of Tyler made something crack a little in her voice, despite her smile remaining in place. Ella didn’t mean for it to unnerve Zoey either, but it did.  

“Yeah, yeah I kinda have. He gets frustrated when I beat around the bush.”

“I remember that, yeah. Prevarication lights his fuse.” She smiled, obviously thinking back to times when she’d been hesitant with her very direct ex-husband, who couldn’t bear when people meandered around their words. “Anyway, you were saying?”

“I don’t expect forgiveness for how much I hurt you. All I want from you is an apology for not telling me about when he was shot, because no matter how terrible a sister I was to you, and I was, I know I was, shagging your husband behind your back, I didn’t deserve that. I could have lost him and not been there, Ella. That would have destroyed me.”

“Which was, if I’m honest, exactly what I wanted at the time, I think. You’re right, too. I was wrong. Hugely wrong not to put our feud aside and let you know. I apologise for that, and I would have done so without you prompting it, because I realise my fault there.”

She paused, looking out at the playground, where two chattering mothers with their thermos mugs had just arrived, their children running on ahead to the swings. She’d left hers all cuddled up on the sofa with Cami watching cartoons. “As for forgiving you, I think I could, maybe when a little more time has passed. Camille is really helping me there, processing the betrayal, but see, Zo, what I can’t get past is the fact that in my mind, no matter how much I love you, and I do, I can’t trust you.”  

It broke Zoey a little, to hear that. It was a break she knew she deserved to feel. Only so much could be mended here at their first meet. Her sister’s trust would likely be a long time in coming. “I want us to repair the damage, but trusting you again is where I fall short on being able to fathom how and where that begins. Okay, so we weren’t in a good place, I admit my faults in driving my husband away, but for you to welcome him into your bed? I just... it still makes me so upset!”  

Ella balled her fists and softly thudded them against the bench, her jaw tight, tears prickling her eyes and eventually splashing her cheeks when she blinked, shaking her head and gasping into a deep breath. “What would you tell me to do, if it had been Cait or Fran who Tyler had the affair with?”

That was perhaps the last thing Zoey expected to be asked, the question throwing her through a huge loop. “I don’t know, I really don’t.”

“Try.” There it was, rearing up a little, a bit of Ella’s scary fire, that one word delivered through semi-gritted teeth.  

Taking a breath, Zoey attempted to remove herself from the situation, imagining being on the outside looking in. “I guess I’d tell you that it’s completely your call, how you handle the relationship going forward, and that the trust has to come back with taking small steps, if it ever will at all. Who knows? You might never trust me again, which I have to realistically expect might be the likely price I have to pay.”  

Her voice tremored there, Ella’s tears falling more too as she sniffed, suddenly shocking Zoey by reaching to grasp her hand. “I want to trust you again, I do. You’re my little button, but Christ! You hurt me so damn much!”  

“I know, I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry. I just... my head told me to stop, screamed at me, but in the end, it was my heart. He... I just...”

“No, go on. It’s alright. You can tell me.” Wiping her eyes with her spare hand, Ella turned and nodded. “It’s okay.”

“I just fell so much in love with him. Being one of my best mates, we had that connection of thinking the other was awesome and loving each other’s company, and it was all of that, but amplified suddenly. Firstly, through sex and then, through love. I know I can’t justify breaking your heart or your trust either, I know that, but I just wanted you to maybe understand it, that it wasn’t this whim, that I did agonise over it.”

Ella sighed, nodding again. “How you looked at Christmas proves that to me, Zo. That’s something that Cami reminded me of, that if it wasn’t real love you felt for him then you wouldn’t have looked so frail in the wake of him ending your affair. That was the human personification of someone in agony. I’ve talked to her a lot about it, she’s been such a big help in seeing it isn’t just my feelings in all of this, even though I was the one who was ultimately wronged.  

“Look, I don’t want you to keep beating yourself up about it any longer. I’ve accepted that Tyler has moved on, with a girl who I think the bloody world of, trust with my kids, etc and not some dodgy bogan or something,” she began, both taking a moment to laugh as they composed their tears. “And I’ve moved on too, Cami and I might be early days but we’re really happy together. I’m leaving it a little while longer and then telling the kids too, I’m confident she’s here to stay. I want us to all move forward as a family, but like I said, trusting you is going to take some time.”

Zoey nodded, squeezing her hand. “Then take as much as you need. Just sitting here, talking, really talking to you while we hold hands is enough for me. It’s a massive step for both of us. Well, you mostly.”  

Ella smiled, nodding at her. “You too. I understand how after the way I spoke to you the time before last seeing you, how you likely came here with your heart in your mouth. I know how I can be, again, it’s something Cami is helping me with.”  

They sat in silence, both taking in the natural beauty of the park, basking in the early autumn glow as well as being reunited with one another. There was a long way to go, they both knew that, but as Ella suddenly rested her head to Zoey’s shoulder, the younger Hudson sibling reciprocating the gesture, they knew the first steps had been taken to mend. It wouldn’t happen overnight, but they were wise to that.  

“This feels nice,” Zoey commented, her fingers squeezing a little tighter on her sister’s.

“It does. Strange, yet familiar. Like, I’m still hurting and upset with you, but I’ve missed this so much that I can push it aside and just enjoy it, the peace, having my sister back. Everything else will come in time, if we work on it.”

“We will.”

That first reconnection made the sisters both feel renewed and positive, agreeing to meet up in two weeks from then with their other two sisters for brunch, knowing they both needed to begin returning to normality in order to get their relationship back on track. When she arrived back at his place, Tyler saw it in how she carried herself, like a physical weight had been lifted from her, the burden she’d carried within her at hurting her sister ever since their affair had first begun.  

“It went so much better than I expected it would,” she began, slipping her feet out of her shoes and taking a seat next to him on the sofa, Tyler welcoming her into his embrace on his good side. “We talked, she apologised for not telling me about the shooting, in turn I apologised again for my part in breaking up her marriage, and we’ve agreed to work on it.  

“She doesn’t know whether she can trust me again, though, which is fair enough. I don’t blame her for that. What I ended up with today was much more than I expected to get, we sat there and held hands, it was so nice. I guess working on our relationship means I have to prove myself to her, rebuild the broken bridge there.”  

He smiled, relieved it had all gone well. “I think it all went as well as anyone could have expected it to, probably better than anticipated, to be honest. The foundations are there, all you have to do now is slowly and carefully build.”  

It warmed him within, to imagine in his mind, the sisters sitting holding hands, some warmth beginning to thaw the frosty glacier that had driven itself between them, frozen by actions committed on both sides of the fallout. The sun was now beginning to shine once more, though, the ice melting, as he always hoped it would.  

That thaw continued as well, Zoey greatly surprised that in the time before she was due to meet with her sisters, Ella reached out and called her one evening, just to catch up.  

“Hey button, how’s tricks?”

Oh, how she’d missed that. The simplicity of answering the phone and hearing Ella’s sweet little pet name for her. Her tone wasn’t quite a sweet, there were still so many broken pieces of her sister that Zoey knew it was her job to mend, to glue back together through taking time with reunited relationship, but they’d get there.  

When they did meet with Cait and Fran two weeks later, it felt good, four of them all sitting at a table enjoying the dishes of delicious brunch food they shared, all laughing, smiling and joking, remembering the sisterly bonds, the warm cords of affection that linked the four together, no longer fractured by two of them being severed. The knots would be tied strongly once more, both Zoey and Ella were determined on that score.  

“So, how did Tyler’s physio go the other day? He mentioned it when he dropped the kids off. It’s good to see him driving again, I know he’s been fretting about you driving his baby,” Ella asked, of course referring to his beloved truck.  

“He’s doing so well, thanks for asking,” she began, noting the complete sincerity in her voice and face. She wasn’t alone, Cait smiling widely as she turned to view her, proud of the steps both were taking. “He’s in at the firing range a week on Saturday, so we’ll see. I think the last surgery nailed it and he’s healed quicker than he expected he would, too. Even over the last fortnight he’s made leaps and bounds. I just hope he can shoot, because I can’t imagine him doing anything for a living that doesn’t involve holding a gun in his hand. It’s in his nature.”  

That nature definitely showed itself on the firing range when he eventually got there, encouraged by Jimmy as he picked up the weapon, the cold metal so familiar within his hands, eyeing the target, squeezing the trigger and beginning to fire. It wasn’t perfect in aim, his shoulder twinging a little, but he knew that was just going to be down to further healing. He thanked the stars as his target came down the range that he was even able to grip the gun at all.  

Swapping out the paper target, he sent it back again, firing once more, managing one head shot at least before he began to hurt more than he was prepared to risk by exerting himself.

“You’ve done well, mate. Call it a day there,” Jimmy spoke, resting a hand to his good shoulder.  

“Even injured, I can still clear a headshot within two clips,” he quipped, his mate frowning as he began to laugh quietly.

“Oi, I was gonna take you out for a beer to celebrate, but you can bugger right off, now! Insulting my skills, you sarcastic bugger!”  

“Well, I was gonna suggest we hook up with the girls since they’re all out this ‘arvo. You fancy it?”

Jimmy looked surprised at his statement. “What, Zoey and Ella are out in the same place, and not clawing each other’s faces off?”

“Nah, they’re good. They’ve met up a couple of times, and they talk on the phone. They’re making real great progress in healing their relationship. Makes me happy as fuck, mate.”  

“That’s amazing to hear, bro! Yeah, yeah, count me in. It’d be nice to see ‘em all again.”

What was nice for Tyler, was after calling Zoey and arranging which bar to meet them at, was sitting at the table in the window with Jimmy, looking out for them, and witnessing a sight that made his heart burst with warmth. All four of them, hand in hand, Zoey and Ella in the middle, all walking along like they used to.  

They entered the bar, Jimmy whistling loudly for them, shouting that they’d bought them drinks already, the girls coming over and greeting them. Zoey took her seat beside him, kissing his cheek, Tyler wrapping his arm around her, Ella leaning over and giving him a kiss on the head in hello before Jimmy bear hugged her.  

Resolve, moving forward with the woman he loved, while the one he previously had no longer harboured any hatred towards either of them. It was all he had ever wanted.  

“How’d you get on, then?” Zoey asked.

“Pretty good, yeah. I managed to fire it alright, got a headshot and then called it a day. Still hurts a bit, but that’s just a matter of giving it time to fully heal. Looks like everything will be back to normal soon.”

Looking at her sisters as they all sat down, Jimmy making Ella scream with laughter before she took her seat beside Fran, smiling over at her, Zoey turned back and rested her head against his shoulder. “Yeah, doesn’t it just.”

The End.  

[mostly-marvel-musings]

Writer’s I’ve been loving this week

A/N: I went on an extensive binge of Marvel fics this week & here are some of the writers whose writing I’ve loved.

@darklydeliciousdesires - You’ll find the most elaborate & beautifully described smut here. It’s mostly celebrity fanfiction but she also has a new Tyler Rake (Extraction) x OFC series which is so intriguing, y’all have to check it out. I’m honestly blown away by how amazing she is! Chris Hemsworth Masterlist

@lil-stark - Meri desi behen from down under! She writes the fluffiest fanfics for Bucky Barnes, they’re tooth-rottingly adorable. Masterlist

@multifandomwriter - Another writer who’s masterlist I’ve binged on. Some awesomely described one-shots with solid story lines. Masterlist

@avengersbau - I recommend the entire masterlist! Written for all of my favourite characters & mostly with a gender neutral reader! Masterlist

@chickensarentcheap - Last but definitely not least, my friend who’s written for Tyler Rake on AO3. I’ve never seen someone dive so deep into a character & create this wonderful series! Masterlist

[chickensarentcheap]

Lost and Found- Chapter 29

Fandom: Extraction

Pairing: Tyler Rake and Esme Drummond (OFC. You do not have to read the original series to understand this fic)

Warnings: slight profanity

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

Link to Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/43179357/chapters/138016519

My tag list is OPEN. Just let me know if you'd lke to be added :D

****

It’s exactly how she remembers it. A quaint, three-bedroom home perfect for a young, growing family; antique blue board and batten with a vibrant, mustard yellow front door and a deep, wide porch that wraps around one side of the structure and connects with the deck in back. A fenced-in rear yard ideal for pets and children; enough open land for gardens and play structures and even a pool. Mere blocks from the small downtown core and open-air market; located close to schools and parks and only a ten-minute drive to the beach. The latter had been the ultimate selling point; as close to the ocean as they could get within their price range. Things had been different then; both financially struggling after never receiving full payment from Mahajan, but still having to worry about a stack of hospital bills and various debts.

There’d been no reason to live above their means; content with something small that they could personalize and make all of their own. Add onto if a bigger family was in the cards; firmly settling on having at least one baby, but not fully sold on anything more than that. Being a father again scared him; the guilt and the regret surrounding the death of his son and the decision he’d made in the final weeks still weighed heavily on his mind and soul. And she’d known not to push the subject no matter how much she desired something more; needing to give him the space to not only wrestle with and defeat his demons but build up his confidence when it came to raising another child.

Wick had picked them up at the airport. Twelve days following their desperate escape from New York, and ten since he’d flown to Broome to keep his eyes open and an ear to the ground. After assisting Alcott in identifying -and quickly eliminating- any possible threat, he’s confident that things are secure and no dangers lie in wait; free to return to the States and his commitment to helping Nik destroy any remaining threat on the front line. He looks healthier and more well-rested than Esme can previously remember; casually dressed in a pair of olive green cargo shorts and a simple white t-shirt. His eyes are more vibrant, the bridge of his nose and his cheeks sunkissed. And it's a welcome departure from the usual; the sullenness replaced by a genuine smile and unmistakable glow.

She glances at Millie; fastened in her car seat in the back of the SUV, safe and secure between her mom and dad. Father and daughter both asleep and in the same positions; heads tilted back and to the right, their arms folded across their chests, mouths slightly open as they quietly snore. Their cheeks flushed; sweat glistening at their temples and napes of their necks, wayward strands stuck to their brows. The last two weeks finally catching up to them; the hours spent travelling, the stress, fear, and worry that had weighed heavily upon them, the shared shock and surprise of finding out about one another’s identities and roles in the other’s life. And the dangerous and unpredictable flight from New York City and the two weeks spent at Nik’s while longing for home.

As Wick kills the engine, she tends to Millie, gently cradling her face in her palms and peppering her brow and cheeks with feathery kisses. Repeatedly brushing the tip of her nose against Millie’s until the four-year-old gives a sleepy giggle and a breathy, ‘Momma’; eyes flickering open as she plants a noisy kiss on Esme’s lips.

“Time to get up, little bug. We’re finally here.”

“Home?”

Esme nods.

“Our forever home?”

“Our forever home. Well, unless we one day need a bigger one. Come on…” Unbuckling the car seat’s harness, she lifts Millie onto her lap. “You’re getting big, lovey. Soon I won’t be able to pick you up at all.”

“I’m big like daddy!”

“You definitely are. I always knew you would be; even when you were in my belly and I used to get sneak peeks of you at the doctor. You were long and lanky even then. Now…” She clears sweaty hair away from Millie’s cheeks and out of her eyes.. “...wake daddy up. Tell him we’re here.”

She scrambles off her mother’s lap and onto Tyler’s; her stomach pressed against his chest, a knee beside either hip. And taking his face in both hands, gently shakes his head from side to side. “Daddy! It’s time to get up! We’re here now! No more sleep!” Upon receiving no response, she aggressively taps her palms against his cheeks, then scowls at her mother. “I think he’s dead.”

“He’s not dead. You can see that he’s breathing. Sometimes, he’s a really heavy sleeper. Or maybe he’s ignoring you.”

“You might ignore you, but not me. Never me.”

“Excuse you?”

“Daddy!” Millie bellows into his ear, then tugs at his beard, followed by his ears. “You have to get up! No more sleep! It’s time to wake up and…” She shrieks when his fingers lightly dig into her sides and he begins gently tickling her, dissolving into giggles when he tips her sideways across his lap and repeatedly brushes his beard against her cheeks. And she’s breathless and hiccuping when he once more settles her upright on his thighs, her tiny hands cradling his cheeks in their palms. “It’s time to get up!”

“Says who?”

“Me! And momma!”

You guys aren’t the boss of me.”

“Yeah, right!”

“Why do I need to get up? Can’t a guy get his beauty sleep?””

“You can go back to sleep later! We’re finally here, daddy! We’re home! It’s time to wakey-wakey, shakey-shakey!”

“What if I don’t want to wakey-wakey, shaky-shakey?”

“Too bad! When momma says it’s time to get up, it’s time to get up! Remember, she’s the boss, applesauce!”

“Sure she is.” Placing a kiss on Millie’s temple, he settles her sideways on his lap; palm smoothing over her messy hair as she presses her face against the window and studies her surroundings. “What do you think of it so far?”

“I love it! I love the colour! Especially the front door! I LOVE yellow. It’s a great use of colour, dad. You know what they say? That EVERY house deserves a pop of colour.”

Tyler arches a quizzical brow at Esme. “Whose they?”

She gives a sheepish grin. “People on television. We watch a lot of Home and Garden Network.”

“Especially in the winter,” Millie adds. “When it’s too cold to go outside. Or there’s a snowstorm and we’re stuck in the house.”

“So you think it’s an alright place? That you’ll be happy here?”

“Of course, I’m going to be happy! It’s home. It’s where mommy and daddy are. It can’t get any better than that. But…”

“Uh oh…”

“You know what it needs? More colour. It needs flowers. To up the curb appeal.”

“Are you going to be a real estate agent when you grow up?”

“Nope.”

“Interior decorator?”

“Hell no! I’m going to be the person who builds the house. With my own hands!”

“That’s my girl.”

Esme winces in discomfort as she reaches across her body to unbuckle her seat belt. “Funny thing is, that’s what your daddy does. That’s one of his REAL jobs. He even owns his own business. He might not build houses from the ground up, but he helps make people's places bigger and better.”

“But I thought your job was kicking ass.”

“It is. Just not all the time. Only when Auntie Nik really needs my help.”

“So you have two lives. Two ‘yous’.”

“Yeah. I guess you could put it that way. The ‘me’ that was in New York City? Taking care of business? That’s the me that I don’t have to be very often anymore. The ‘all the time’ me? I help people in a different way. I make their houses bigger and nicer, I put up fences and decks, I build garages and sheds and even furniture sometimes.”

“Can you build a treehouse? I always wanted a treehouse.”

“Millie, I can build you whatever you want. Or at least I can try.”

“You know what his other job is? He’s a fireman.”

Her eyes widen. “Shut the front door!”

“It is. That’s the job I do the most. I won’t be going back for a while though; I’ve got a lot of time off to spend with you and your mom. That’s all that’s important right now. That you guys are safe and taken care of. And that the three of us get to be together. Get used to being a family.”

“Being a firefighter is crazy dangerous! And scary!”

“It can be.”

“Momma’s right! You ARE super brave!”

“I like to think I am. Sometimes, anyways.”

“She told me you’re the bravest person she’s ever known. And the strongest.”

Reaching behind Millie, he gently and lovingly tugs on Esme’s hair. “Yeah, well your mum is biassed.”

“Her mum tells the truth.”

“You’re our hero, Daddy. You’re brave and you’re strong and you keep us safe from the bad guys. We don’t have to worry about them when you’re around. ‘Cause you’ll do anything to stop them from even coming near us, never mind hurting us.”

“There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you or your mumma. You’re my girls. All that matters to me is the two of you.”

“And Lucy.”

“DEFINITELY Lucy. She’s one of my girls, too. Actually, she’s the ORIGINAL girl; I had her before I even met your mumma.”

“Mumma says she’s a really good doggo. A super smart one. I can’t wait to meet her. I hope she’ll like the toys and treats I picked out for her. And I hope she LOVES me.”

“I know she will. And she’s going like having a little sister; someone to play with and chase around and sneak her food under the table. She’ll be like a puppy again, just you watch.”

“I just hope she loves me. ‘Cause I already know I love her. So if she doesn’t feel the same about me, I’m going to be crazy sad. I’m going to…”

Her voice trails off as begins bouncing up and down on his lap; banging her palm against the window when Alcott steps out onto the front porch; flashing that dazzling and waving enthusiastically at her. And she squeals “Uncle Duey!” before Tyler pops open the door; not waiting for it to fully open before she’s slipping out of the vehicle and scurrying up the front walk.

Alcott is on the middle step when she launches herself towards him; his deep, rich chuckle and her piercing, musical giggle floating on the air as he effortlessly catches her and tosses her above his head. Once, twice. Before tucking her into his chest and showering her temples, forehead and cheek with kisses.

Esme pauses with her hand on the door handle. “I know it’s hard for you; seeing how close she is to everyone. The fact they got to be part of her life long before you did. And I’m sorry that it hurts you so much. I’m sorry for so MANY things.”

“I don’t need you to be sorry. We’ve moved past that. I don’t need constant apologies.”

“But…”

“I don’t need them,” he forcibly repeats, then lays a hand on the back of her head and pulls her into him; lips meeting her brow. “And it’s not as bad now. It doesn’t hurt as much. I’m starting to look at it differently. How I’m actually very lucky. You and Millie had these people around; watching out for you, loving on you and keeping you safe. Until I finally got the chance to do it.”

“I just wish I’d given you that chance sooner. I’m sorry I…”

“No more of that word, okay? There’s no need for it.” He’s mindful of the still tender line of stitches embedded in her scalp as he pushes his finger through her hair; hand cupping the back of her head when he kisses her. pushes his fingers through her hair, mindful of the still tender line of stitches embedded in her scalp. “Not anymore.”

“Why are you like this?”

“Like what?”

“So good to me? After everything I’ve done. After hurting you like I did…”

“I love you.” The answer is short and sweet. Honest. “I always have. I always will.”

Her lower lip and chin tremble as she struggles to hold back her emotions.

“None of that, okay? No crying. There’s no reason to cry. There’s been enough of that. And I don’t want this; you holding onto all of this…stuff. I forgive you. Now it’s time for you to forgive yourself. Or at least work on it.”

“How the tables have turned, huh? I remember saying almost those same words to you. About Austin. About how he forgave you. For what you did. And that it was your turn. To forgive yourself.”

“And I got there. Eventually. You will too. You’re not alone in this. You’ve got me. Millie. We’ll help you through it. Now…” Turning and reaching for the door handle, he’s stopped when she snags him by the back of his t-shirt and pulls him towards her. A hand on his cheek as she kisses him; long and soft and slow. A grin tugging at the corners of his mouth when he pulls away. “What was that for?”

“I need a reason to kiss you?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“Have you ever considered that I enjoy kissing you?”

“Have you ever considered you have crappy taste in men?”

“My taste in men is impeccable, thank you very much. Or at least it became impeccable when I met you.”

Smirking, he presses a kiss on her brow. “Sweet talker. Flattery will get you everywhere.”

“Yeah, you’re always up for a good, old-fashioned, ego-stroking.”

“And a good stroking of something else,” he teases, giving her a playful wink and then opening the car door and stepping out. Offering Alcott a nod in greeting before heading to the opposite side of the vehicle and assisting Esme; a protective hand on the small of her back as he leads her up the front walk. “You gonna be alright the rest of the way? While I give Wick a hand with all the stuff?”

“I’ll be fine,” she assures him, standing on her tips with a hand upon his chest as he leans down to kiss her.

“I worry.”

“I know you do. And in a strange little way, it makes you a million times sexier. Which is hard to grasp considering you’re already the sexiest man alive.”

“You and your shit taste in guys.”

“I’ve said it once and I’ll say it again, my taste has become impeccable.” Smoothing her palms down the front of his t-shirt, her hand settling on his hips; eyes closing as she rests her forehead upon his chest. “I love you, you know.”

Smiling, he cups the back of her head in his palm and leans down to kiss her temple. “I know.”

****

Alcott greets her with a smile as he holds a squealing and giggling Millie upside down by her ankles. “Well there’s a sight for sore eyes.”

“Emphasis on the word ‘sore’.”

“You’re going to be feeling it for a while. To be honest, I’m surprised you’re doing as well as you are. That you’re even up and at ‘em.”

“It was now or never, I guess. Nik was getting tired of me; I was only a couple of days away from being evicted.”

“Look at mommy’s toe nails!” Millie calls out, as her fingertips swipe at her mother’s feet. “I did those! Watermelon pink! Mine match!”

“You’re going to make her throw up,” Esme warns. “Or pee her pants. She had a huge drink in the car before falling asleep.”

“I might do both!” The four-year-old announces. “I had a cherry and vanilla Coke slurpee! Daddy and I shared it, but I drank the most! Now I got the burps!”

“Guess your mum will be cleaning a hell of a mess off the steps, won’t she.”

“More like her father would have to clean it up. So let’s spare him the horror, okay? Blood and guts he can handle. THAT? He’ll likely toss his cookies too.”

(Millie hiccups as Alcott returns her to an upright position and settles her on his hip. “Daddy doesn’t like barf. I almost hurled on the plane and he nearly had a panic attack.”

Standing on her tiptoes, Esme straightens and tightens her daughter’s pigtails. “We don’t need to give away all of his secrets. Why don’t you run over and help daddy and Uncle John with some stuff? Grab your backpack and Lucy’s toys and treats. I’ll take you to meet her in a few minutes.”

“You just want to talk to Uncle Duey in private. I know your tricks, mom.”

“Well, there’s some things we need to discuss that little ears don’t need to hear.”

“What kind of things?”

“Adult things. That you…young miss…don’t need to be part of.”

“Are you going to hang out for a bit, Uncle Duey? Are you going to stay for supper? We haven’t eaten yet and I’m getting really hungry and I really want you to stay. Will you?”

“If your mum and dad don’t mind having an extra mouth to feed.”

“Are you going to sleep over? Visit for a bit? ‘Cause that would be really cool! Maybe we could even make a tent in my new room!”

“Tell you what, I’ll stay for a few days. So we can hang out. BUT, I’m going to stay at a hotel; so you and your folks can have privacy. You’re a family now; you need to concentrate on THAT.”

“I finally have a daddy. And not just ANY daddy, but my REAL daddy! The daddy that helped make me. Who put me in mom’s tum! How cool is that?! That I’d get my actual daddy in the end?!

Alcott presses a noisy kiss on Millie’s cheek before setting her on the ground, a hand resting on the top of her head. “You know, I think you’re a very lucky little girl. That you have the dad AND mum that you do. Because no one…in this world…could love you more than they do. You’re going to have a long and happy life, my little Amelia. With BOTH of them.”

“Daddy said that when something is meant to be, it always finds a way. He said that’s why mummy needed his help; because they were meant to be together. Do you think that’s true?”

“I think when two people love each other…REALLY love each other…they’ll find their way back to one another. Doesn’t matter how long it takes or how many obstacles are in the way, if they’re meant to be together, they will be. That’s what happened with your mum and dad. Although I do question her standards and her taste in men. Because if you ask me…”

“You know, you can be super duper cute, Uncle Duey. And really romantic.”

“You know, I have my moments. But let’s keep that between us. Our little secret. I have a reputation to keep.”

“Of being a big-time ass kicker!”

“Exactly.” Offering a closed fist, Millie bumps it with her own. “Now, you go.” Laying a hand on the top of her head, he gently steers her towards the stairs. “Listen to your mumma. Go and grab your things. I’ve got a surprise for you.”

“What kind of surprise?”

“A very nice one.”

“What is it?”

“If I told you, it wouldn’t be a surprise. And you can’t have it until you do what you're told; go and lend a hand and grab your stuff. Then you can meet Lucy and…”

“And then I get my surprise!”

“Exactly!”

“This is the best day ever!” Giving his leg a tight squeeze, she hurries for the stairs and then jumps from the landing; landing effortlessly on her feet and rushing off towards the car. Calling out for her dad and her uncle John; giggling when she’s teased and Wick playfully pulls on one of her pigtails; her high-pitched, exuberant voice floating on the breeze as she busies herself with helping pull bags from the trunk.

Grinning, Alcott shakes his head. “She’s…”

“A handful? Believe me, I know.”

“She seems to be adjusting alright. To this new life of hers. Seems excited to be here, that’s for sure.”

“The last forty-eight hours, she’s done nothing but go on and on about Australia. About how she can’t wait to live here. About taking beach trips and going fishing; learning how to ride a bike, going to school and making friends. It’s ALL she’s talked about.”

“She’s been through a lot. It hasn’t been the easiest of three weeks, that’s for sure. Bad enough on all of us, never mind a wee one. How have things been? Since she found out? About her dad?”

“Everything’s been great. Better than I thought it would be; I thought it would take her a lot longer to adjust to the whole thing and to forgive me for keeping him a secret. But it’s like he’s been part of her life forever. Like she’s never known anything different. She adores him. Wants to be around him constantly.”

“The best part of that is that she loved him before she even knew that he WAS her dad. How’s he been? With her?”

“Amazing. He really had to step it up after New York City; I sort of just threw him to the wolves. But he did it; despite all the pain he was in and constantly worrying about me and trying to take care of me. He just did what he had to do. Spent nearly every waking moment with her.”

“As much as what happened sucks for you, it was probably what was best for them. It gave them that time; to be completely alone and invested with one another. Gave them a chance to learn about one another. Without anyone else interfering.”

“As much as my body wishes it could get on board with that, it’s just not having it. How have things been here?”

“Quiet. For the most part.”

“For the most part, huh? I don’t think I like the sound of that.”

“Just a couple of people snooping. Coming around where they had no reason to be. Wick and I took care of them.”

“Took care of them as in…”

“As in they won’t bother you…or anyone else…ever again.”

Sighing heavily, Esme crosses her arms over her chest, hands rubbing at her biceps.

“Hey…” Hooking a finger under her chin, Alcott tilts her face up towards him. “...everything is fine. You’re safe here. Wick and I took care of things on our end, now all Nik has to do is handle things on hers. It’ll be over soon. For good.”

“God, I hope so.”

She glances over her shoulder as Millie and Tyler make their way towards the house. The latter gently suggesting that their offspring make multiple trips to and from the car, while Millie insists -despite the knapsack on her shoulders, gift bag over her wrist, and the top of a pile of small boxes cradled in her arms reaching her eyebrows- that she’s stronger than she looks and can see ‘just fine’.

“You know….” Esme turns back to Alcott, body leaning into his when he drapes an arm across her shoulders. “...I’ve waited five years for this. To be with him again. I have missed him; every second of every day. I spent four wondering what it would be like; to have him in her life and see them together and hear her call him ‘daddy’. Now it’s happening; it’s all RIGHT HERE. And I am so overwhelmed. With everything I’m feeling.”

“In a good way, I hope.”

“In a very good way. This is all I ever wanted. HE’S all I ever wanted. Everything we talked about…everything we planned together…it’s all finally happening. In this place. That we bought together. And that I never spent a single night inside. It’s a lot, you know? To unpack. And I’m so scared that something…someone…is going to take this all away from me.”

“That’s why you…BOTH OF YOU…need to get out of this life. And stay out of it. Once this is all over, you need to walk away for good. Or something bad WILL happen.”

“I’m ready for that. More than ready. I finally have everything I want. WHO I want. I want to be a wife and a mother. I want to share my bed with the same man every night for the rest of my life. Kiss the same man good morning EVERY morning. I want to make cookies for school bake sales and cheer Millie on while she plays soccer and watch her learn to surf. I want to have another baby. Or two. Or three. I am so ready. For ALL of that.”

“But?”

“I’m worried that he won’t be able to walk away. Or stay away. Not for good. I’m worried he’s always going to be tied to that life somehow. That it will somehow find a way back into our lives. Take him away from us.”

“Have you mentioned all this? Talked to him about it?”

“I haven’t exactly had the chance. I spent a week in and out of consciousness, and another five days trying to build up enough strength just to do shit like feed myself and get myself to the bathroom. There was never a good time to bring up something like THAT.”

“You need to. Just get it all out in the open. Let him know what you’re worried about, what you’re afraid of, all of that. Because it won’t do any good keeping that in. You need to say it. And he needs to hear it.”

“You know what my fear is? My worst nightmare? That he’ll take a job and go somewhere thousands of miles away and something horrible will happen to him. That I’ll lose him. Permanently. And he’ll be stuck there; I won’t have any way of getting him out there and bringing him home.”

“Esme…”

“I couldn’t deal with that. I just couldn’t. I’d never survive it.”

*****

Esme slowly approaches the couch; a sprawled-out Lucy regarding her with wide eyes and her head tilted to the side. While Millie trails a few steps behind, she crouches down in front of the sofa and offers a soft, calm smile.

“Hey girl…hey Lucy…” She holds out the back of her hand to sniff, the dog’s nose wet against her skin. And as recollection of a long lost and missed scent begins to creep in, Lucy’s tail begins to thumb energetically against the cushions. “...do you remember me? It’s been a long time, huh? I missed you. So much.”

The thumping of the tail continues, now accompanied by a butt wiggle and a soft yet happy whimper as Lucy wriggles closer. “Yeah…you remember. We were besties. We did so much together. I’m so sorry…” Ruffling the fur at the nape of Lucy’s neck, Esme then strokes the dog’s ears and scratches under her chin “...that I just up and left like that. I never meant to abandon you.” She leans in to press a kiss to Lucy’s nose. “Thank you, sweet girl. For keeping him company. And keeping an eye on him. Until I could get back to doing it.”

Swiping at loose tears with the back of her hand, she reaches for Millie.“I have someone I want you to meet. Someone I love very much. I had a baby while I was gone. And this is her…” Drawing her daughter to her side, she lays a hand on the top of the little one’s head and presses a kiss to her temple. “...isn’t she beautiful?”

“Hi Lucy…” Millie offers her hand for a sniff. “...I’m Millie. Well, my name is really Amelia, but I like Millie better. Everyone calls me that. I’m going to live here now; with you and my momma and my daddy. That makes us sisters. ‘Cause we have the same mom and dad. Just they adopted you and I was in momma’s tummy.” She giggles when Lucy licks her hand, then slides forward and swipes at her chin with her tongue. “I think she likes me!”

“Why don’t you show her what you got for her? I’m sure she’d love to see.”

“I got you some goodies.” Millie holds aloft a neon pink gift bag, filled with white tissue paper. “Some toys and some treaties. See…” Dumping the contents out onto the couch, she arranges them neatly in their respective groups; food in one pile, play objects in the other). “...I got you all different kinds of stuff. Squeaky balls, rope toys, ones you can chew on, a cool tug of war one that we can play with together! I’ll let you pick which one you want to play with first.”

“I think she’s more interested in learning about you right now.”

“Can I give her some treats? Do you think that’s okay? That daddy won’t mind?”

“He won’t mind at all, believe me. Here…” Selecting one of the bag of treats -duck flavoured- she tears it open; dumping a handful of the small ‘cookies’ into Millie’s palm. “...these are her favourites. Hold your hand out and let her take a sniff. She’ll decide if she wants them or not.”

“She won’t eat my hand, will she?”

“Lucy’s the last dog on earth that would do something like that. She might kiss you to death or you might pass out from her stinky doggy breath, but she’s a lover, not a fighter. The goodest good girl. Aren’t you, Luce?” She smoothes a hand over each of Lucy’s ears and the scruff of her neck, kneading lightly at the fur as Millie offers the treats in her palm. The dog briefly sniffing before hurriedly -and exuberantly- gobbling them up. Causing the four-year-old to dissolve into giggles when the nibbling at her palm turns into enthusiastic lapping at her chin and cheeks. “I knew she’d like you. What’s not to like?”

“We’re going to be besties!” Millie declares, and tosses both arms around Lucy’s wriggling body. “Aren’t we Lucy?!

Tyler’s hand falls on Esme’s shoulder as he joins them. “How’s things down here?”

“Good,” she smiles up at him. “Very good. I think it’s safe to say that Lucy and Millie like each other.”

“We don’t just like each other!” Millie declares, as she lies on her back on the couch; Lucy between her splayed legs, the dog’s stomach pressed against hers. Lucy panting and her tongue lolling out of her mouth as her new friend enthusiastically scratches at the ‘sweet spots’ behind her ears. “We LOVE each other!”

“That’s ‘cause Lucy has great taste. Don’tcha girl.” Tyler reaches down to knead the back of the dog’s neck. “Now I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but you’re going to have to share me now. We’ve got extra people in the house. Extra b…”

Esme scowls up at him.

“Ladies. I was going to say LADIES.”

“The hell you were.”

“You know I’m just joking. Trying to get a rise out of ya. Although after the past ten days, I wouldn’t mind if YOU were trying to get a rise out of ME.”

She gives a derisive snort and a roll of the eyes. “You are too much.”

His fingers curl around her bicep when she starts to stand; helping her to her feet before his palm moving to the small of her back as she leans into him. Her body leaning into his as his lips meet the top of her head.

“You guys finished? Get everything inside?”

“Just put everything upstairs for now. We can tackle it later. Or tomorrow. Or whenever. There’s no rush.”

“So…” Alcott takes the stairs two at a time. Enthusiastically clapping and rubbing his hands together as he addresses Millie from the bottom landing. “...who’s ready for their surprise!”

“I am! I’ve been ready since you told me! But…” She nuzzles the top of Lucy’s head with her nose. “...can Lucy come and see it too?”

“The more the merrier. This is definitely a family thing.”

Sliding out from under the dog’s body, Millie jumps to her feet; patting the side of her leg and calling for the dog to follow as Alcott leads the way out of the living room and down the hall. Pausing at the door that belongs to the small three-piece bath just off the kitchen.

“Right in here,” he says, and nods towards the door. “It’s waiting for ya.”

“In here?”

“In there. Go on.”

She reaches for the handle, then pauses. “What is it? What’s in there?”

“It’s a bathroom.”

“But what’s IN the bathroom?”

“Your surprise.”

“But what IS my surprise?”

“If I told you, then it wouldn’t be a surprise, would it? Go on. Go see what’s in there.”

Esme’s brows arch quizzically as she glances between Tyler and Alcott. “What are you two up?”

The latter grins. “Just a little something. That we thought would cheer her up, especially after the last couple of weeks she’s had. And we thought it’d help make this new life of hers even better.”

“And just what would make it better? What…?”

“Bea!” Millie’s scream is ear-piercing; bouncing off the ceiling and walls and echoing through the lower level of the house. “Oh…my Bea!” She drops onto her butt in the middle of the floor and scoops the cat into her arms, cuddling her tight to her chest as she sobs into the glistening black fur. A concerned Lucy hurriedly padding into the room; settling herself in a sobbing Millie’s lap as she licks at the tears that stream down the little one’s face. “...I missed you!”

“How?” Esme struggles to hold back her own tears. “How did you…?”

“I had someone bring her to me. Someone I could trust. To get her safely. And here she is. I couldn’t keep a little girl and her best friend apart, could I? It’d already been long enough.”

“This was all you wasn’t it?” Esme glances up at Tyler. “You made this happen.”

“It was my idea. But I had help. Getting it done.”

“I thought you weren’t a cat guy.”

“I’m not.” Smiling, he wraps around her and gatherers into his side. Leaning down to press his lips against her temple. “But I have a feeling this one will grow on me.”

****

It’s before eleven when Esme steps out onto the front porch with Wick, the wood smooth and cool under her bare feet; the light in the front room and a small battery-powered lantern on a small nearby table providing the only illumination. Alcott departed an hour before; needing to get back to his hotel to handle some ‘important business’ before retiring for the night, but not before promising Millie he’d be back to see her in the latter part of the morning. With exhaustion and calm quickly settling in, Tyler tends to tucking Millie into -at her insistence- the confines of her brand new, four-poster bed. A simple piece of furniture that signifies the start of the second bedroom’s transformation; pink and grey camo bedding, the rest of the space a blank canvas for her -with some guidance and help- to turn into her own little sanctuary.

As Wick lingers on the bottom landing, Esme remains at the top of the steps; gathering the sides of the oversized hoodie she sports and wrapping them around her petite frame. “You gonna stick around for a bit? Couple of days at least? Millie would love to spend some time with you. Now that we’re away from all that craziness. And who knows when she’ll see you again.”

“I already said my goodbyes. Or should I say my ‘see you laters’. She knows it won’t be long. Until we see each other.”

“Still, a couple of days would have been nice. Just to sit back and relax. Chat.”

“As much as I wish I could just take it easy, I really need to get back. To New York City. I told Nik I’d help tie up all the loose ends. And I need to meet Charon. We have some…business…to tend to.”

“Business as in Winston.”

He smiles coyly. “The less you know, the better.”

“Do you think the High Table will do anything? That they’ll handle him anyway? For what he did to Tyler? To Millie?”

“They’d be hypocrites if they didn’t.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time.”

“He broke their most important rule. The biggest one. They’ll forgive some things. Some missteps. But THAT?”

“He deserves to pay for what he did. He could have killed both of them. Taken everything away from me. Everything I had just gotten back. That I spent five years missing and longing for. Winston tried to take that from me. HIM from me. And for what? Some weird, sick ass obsession?”

“He had it in his mind that you were his to have. And to lose. Winston isn’t used to losing.”

“I was never his. I was never going to be. And I certainly never let him think it was a possibility.”

“I think he felt as if he could guilt into it. Being with him. Hold everything he’s done for you over your head. Manipulate you. Until you not only gave in, but gave him what he wanted. EVERYTHING he wanted.”

“Never would have happened. I’d already lived through one asshole gaslighting me for years. I wasn’t falling for it again. And if he had managed to take Tyler and Millie from me, I would have killed myself before it happened. Before EVER being with him.”

“How about we concentrate on the fact he DIDN’T manage to do it. That Millie and Tyler are safe.”

“I think about it every day, believe me. But I also think about how he can’t get away with this. As if it isn’t bad enough that he was so ready, willing, and able to kill Tyler, he was more than okay with taking Millie out in the process. A little girl girl. MY little girl. My baby. And I’m sorry, but he can’t get away with it. He just can’t.”

“And he won’t. I promise you. Winston will be taken care of. You don’t need to know how or at whose hand, but he will be. You just need to trust me.”

“I do. I DO trust you. You know I do. I trust you with my life. With Millie’s life.”

“Your part in all of this is over now. This life? The job? It’s time, Esme. For you to let it go. To just walk away. Not many people in this world get that chance. So you need to take it when you can. Because if you keep even on toe in this pound, you are going to get sucked back in. And this life will swallow you whole. You know it will.”

“It’s hard to walk away when there’s still unfinished business. When it’s so personal.”

“That business will be taken care of. You need to let other people handle it now. What you need to do is go inside and start over again. Start a new life. The one you always wanted. You’ve been given a second chance with Tyler. To be with him. Have a life with him. Make a family together. Do you know how many people wish they could get that? Who's lost someone and will never get them back? Who would love to be in your shoes right now?”

“I know it’s hard for you. To see it. Everything just playing out right in front of you. You can’t get Helen back. And believe me, if there was a way I could change that, I would.”

“I know you would. But you can’t. You can’t do that for me. But what you CAN do? You can make a life for yourself. A REAL life. You can make that man your husband and you can make more babies together and your little girl can have both her mother AND her father. You never wanted all of this. To be in this world. You were never planning on sticking with it for the long haul. Dying some god awful, bloody death like the rest of us.”

“You’re right,” she admits, leaning against the bannister with her arms crossed over her chest. “I didn’t want that. I didn’t plan on doing this forever. And I tried to get out. I DID get out. And then that adjudicator showed up and turned my entire world upside down. Ruined EVERYTHING. I didn’t want to get sucked back in. I was done. I had met someone. I was going to get married. I bought a house. We were planning on always and forever. But it didn’t work out that way, did it.”

“No. It didn’t. You had to wait longer for it. But at least it’s happening. At least you’re getting it.”

Sighing, she reaches up to tuck wayward strands of hair behind her ears.

Climbing the stairs, Wick takes her by the shoulders and turns her towards him. “You can’t bring Helen back. I wish you could. But you know what you can do? For me? You can get the fuck out of this life. And STAY out of it.”

“I’m trying. But knowing that Winston is still out there after what he did…”

“Winston will be handled. Whether it’s by me or Nik or someone else. It’s not your fight anymore. It’s time to let someone else do the heavy carrying. You’ve done enough.”

“It’s my family. That he tried to hurt. It’s my little girl and the love of my life and…”

“And both of them need you. Not the you that’s connected to the job. The you that’s connected to them. You have to let that Esme go. It’s time. You need to be the Esme that they want you to be. That they NEED you to be. They don’t need ‘job Esme’. They need wife Esme. Mom Esme. And you can’t tell me you don’t need that, too.”

“Of course I need it. I WANT it. It’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

“It’s done. Your old life. Whatever battles are left, it’s up to other people to finish. And it’s up to you to trust them to do it.”

“That’s a little easier said than done.”

“You’ve trusted me before. Many times. Trust me now.”

“I’ll try. And me saying that is no slight on you. It’s just that this is close to home. So personal. To just hand it over, you know?”

“I know it is. But you have to do it. If not for yourself, for Tyler and Millie.” (lightly squeezes her shoulders and pulls her closer to him, lips meeting and lingering on her brow) “You’re going to be alright, kiddo. You’re safe. And we’re all going to keep it that way.”

“You’ll let me know how things go? In New York?”

“Once things are taken care of, I’ll call you. Like I said, the less you know, the better.”

“And call me when you get there? So I know you arrived safe and sound?”

Wick grins “Yes, mom.”

“Well, I AM a mom. Which technically makes me your ‘mom friend’, so…”

“Speaking of being a mom, you should go and do just that. Tuck your little one in. Give her a hug and a kiss. And a squeeze. From me.”

Smiling, she reaches up to sweep long strands of hair off his forehead and away from his eyes.

“Take care of each other. LOVE each other. And be happy. If anyone deserves that, it’s you.”

Swallowing around a lump of emotion, she stands on her tiptoes and wraps her arms around his neck) “Thank you. For everything. Millie’s alive because of you. If you hadn’t helped that night…”

“I owed you one. Had you not helped me, this whole mess never would have happened. Starting with that adjudicator.”

“One had nothing to do with the other. The adjudicator, Alessio and his family. It’s not connected.”

“One led to the other. Had you not helped me that night…gone against the High Table…the adjudicator would have never had a reason to track you down.”

“How about we just call it even? Because I can tell this isn’t an argument I’m going to get the high ground on.”

“You can’t win them all, kiddo. But you’ve won plenty, that’s for sure.”

“You will be back, right? Some day?”

“Some day.”

“Because you know you’re welcome here. That our door is always open. So don’t be a stranger, alright?”

“Alright.” He gives her a final squeeze, then a kiss on the cheek. “You be good, Esme Drummond.”

“I will,” she promises, and then pulls away, using her fingertips to clear away the tears that manage to escape. Once more leaning against the bannister with her arms crossed over her chest, she watches him descend the steps and limp down the walk, heading for his car.“Hey!” She calls to him after he opens the door, causing him to pause before sliding behind the wheel. “I’ll see you soon, John Wick!”

He grins over the roof of the car. “Not unless I see you first.”

*****

She finds him in the master bedroom, standing at the side of the bed in nothing more than a pair of sweats that sit low on his hips. A duffle bag, one of Esme’s suitcases, and Millie’s wheeled Transformer case open in front of him; rummaging through them and throwing any dirty laundry into a pile near the closet. Clean clothing stacked on the bedside chair)

“Millie asleep?”

“Out like a light. Both Bea and Lucy are in there with her. All three are snoring.”

Sidling up beside him, she reaches into Millie’s suitcase. Closely inspecting a t-shirt to determine if it's clean or dirty. “She gets it from you, you know.”

“Her amazing good looks?”

“Her snoring.”

“So you’re saying she’s ugly? Which she also gets from me?”

“You damn well know that isn’t what I’m saying. She gets both her amazing good looks and her snoring from you. There. Are you happy?”

“I don’t snore.”

“Like hell you don’t.”

“I’m not taking criticism from someone who talks in their sleep. Who I can have full conversations with.”

“I haven’t done that in a long time.”

“You just did it last night.”

“What was I talking about?”

“I don’t know some guy. Tall, handsome, built like a brick house, had a huge dick. Apparently gave you the best orgasms you’ve ever had in your entire life.”

“Mmm.” She throws a sweater of Millie’s onto the dirty pile. “Must have been some random hook up in college.”

Tyler scowls.

“Baby, IF I was saying all that, it was obviously you I was talking about. Haven’t we had this conversation before? While I’ve been awake? About how you’re the first guy to achieve the previously impossible? It’s nice not having to rely on myself to get to the finish line.”

“You have dated some real losers, you know that?”

“Not that the list is lengthy by any stretch of the imagination, but yes, yes I have. And I married the biggest one of them all.”

“Maybe your second husband will be a step up.”

“I have a feeling he will be,” she chides and playfully smacks him in the stomach with a dirty sweater. “With some room left over for a little improvement.”

“A little? That’s an understatement.”

“I don’t know. I think he’s pretty perfect already. As is.”

Smiling, he leans down to drop a gentle kiss on the top of their head. “And you have the nerve to call me biassed.”

They work quietly and companionably side by side, and when Millie’s suitcase is finally empty, she moves it from the bed and sets it on the floor. Then takes a seat on the edge of the mattress; watching Tyler, as he continues to work.

“Wick get away alright?”

Esme nods. “Do you think he’s going to be okay? When he gets back to New York?”

“I don’t know. He’s gonna have a lot of big guns after him. Bigger and heavier than the ones that are going to be after me, that’s for sure. But, he’s been in that world a long time. Gone up against a lot of horrible people. And he’s still around to tell about it.”

“I’m worried. About him and Charon. When it comes to the whole dealing with Winston thing.”

“One thing they have on their side is that the High Table is after his ass, too. He broke their number one golden rule, yeah? Drew blood on Continental grounds. If they came after you for a lot less, I like to think they’d fuck him right up.”

“But he sits on the High Table. How willing are they going to be to punish one of their own?”

“You know more about them than I do. I was never caught up on that side of things. Not that I didn’t have a chance to be. It was offered to me. Working under them. More than once.”

“Not many people say ‘no’ to the High Table and get away with it. You’re one of the lucky ones.”

“Didn’t really save me, though. did it? They still found a way to ruin my fucking life.”

“Why didn’t you want to work under them? You could have taken jobs anywhere in the world. You didn’t have to focus on North America. You didn’t even need to step foot inside it at all. Why…?”

“Wasn’t my thing. All the rules, the politics, the bullshit. Less drama working for Nik. Only have one person telling me what to do and when to do it. Not a whole shit load.”

“You are kind of a lone wolf. You do prefer working alone.”

“I don’t know…” He over her, palms flat against the mattress for balance. “... I seem to remember a time I didn’t mind sharing the workload with a hot little brunette.”

“Just the one, huh? No others?”

“Just the one.” His lips briefly brush against hers. “The rest were blondes and redheads..”

Scowling, she places her hands on his chest and attempts to push him away.. “Oh fuck you, Tyler!”

Chuckling, he presses a kiss to her cheek and the side of her neck before returning to the task in front of him. She watches his hands as he works; strong enough to break bones and take a life, but capable of breathtaking tenderness. Long fingers and misshapen knuckles; various scars and imperfections that mar his skin. And his forearms; one of the features she’d immediately noticed when they first met. And she’s about to offer a cheeky comment when she notices the expression on his face; the darkened eyes and the furrowed brow.

“Part of you wishes you were there, doesn’t it.”

“Where?”

“New York City. Taking care of Winston yourself. Or at least helping.”

“I won’t lie, revenge is at the top of my list of wants.”

“Mine too. He can’t get away with it; trying to kill you, putting Millie in danger. It doesn’t seem fair that he could just walk away from it at all.”

“He won’t. There’s enough people out there making sure that won’t happen.”

“You’re not going to be one of them, are you? I’m not going to wake up in the morning and find out you took off in the middle of the night? Went back to the states to handle things yourself?”

“You’re not honestly asking me that are you? You can’t be serious.”

“I know how powerful revenge can be. And I know the lines that Winston crossed. Putting Millie in danger, the things he said about me in that basement, the…”

“I’m exactly where I need to be. Where I WANT to be. All that matters to me is keeping you and Millie safe. And if someone DOES decide to try something stupid and I’m not here…”

“You don’t think that’ll happen, do you? That Alessio will send someone? Or that Winston will track us down? You don’t…”

“I think you’re safe with me. You BOTH are.”

“I don’t doubt that. I know what you’re capable of. And I know you’d stop at nothing to protect us. But…”

“You and Millie are safe here. And I’m going to keep it that way. Do I know for sure they’ll send people? No. Would I put it past them? Also no. But I’m not worried. They can send all the people they want. They can send a goddamn army. I will destroy each and every one of them.”

She blinks at the brutal honesty and the anger in his voice; watching as he gathers up the empty suitcases and stashes them in the far corner of the room. Once more joining her, he drops heavily onto his back in the middle of the bed; a forearm over his eyes, his free hand reaching out to slip under both the hoodie and the tank she wears underneath. Calloused fingertips repeatedly skimming across the small of her back, travelling slowly from hip to hip.

Esme stretches out alongside him. On her side with a leg draped over one of his; her mouth placing a series of kisses along the line of his jaw and at the corner of his mouth before resting her head on his chest. Her eyes closed as her fingertips trace the various scars and tattoos that inhabit the right side of his torso. Unsure of how much time passes as they lay there; breathing in each other’s familiar scents, enjoying the warmth that radiates from one another’s bodies, relaxed by the sounds of their soft, rhythmic breathing.

He stirs against her; removing the forearm over his eyes and his palm moving to cup the back of her head. Thumb and fingers pushing through her hair to gently knead her skin, his lips meeting her brow.

“I thought we could just stay in the guest room. For now anyway.”

Esme frowns. “What’s wrong with in here?.”

“Delaney was in here. Right before I left for New York City.”

Reaching up, her hand briefly rests on the top of his head before her fingers push through the longer strands of hair.. “For what it’s worth, it doesn’t bother me.”

“Yeah, well it bothers me.”

Opening her eyes, she raises her head and places her chin on his chest, smiling up at him.

“In a couple of days we can head into town. Buy new stuff. Just start right from scratch. Make the room ours. No one else. Just you and me.”

“You know, oddly enough, I think that’s the most romantic thing you’ve ever said to me.”

“Come on, give me some credit. I’ve had better moments than THAT.”

“I know it doesn’t seem like much to you, but for THAT to bother you? To not want to share what goes on in here with someone else? Just keep it between us? That’s pretty intense, babe. No one would expect that from a guy like you.”

“A guy like me? What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You know, the strong, silent type that’s capable of killing a man a thousand ways with his bare hands.”

“For your information, my hands can do a lot more than that.”

“Oh believe me…” She nuzzles the long-healed bullet wound on his neck with her nose, then runs the tip of her tongue along the lines of his tattoo. “...I know what those hands are capable of.”

“Are you trying to seduce me?”

“Maybe. Is it working?”

“You should know by now that you don’t have to put that much effort into it. If any.”

She giggles against his cheek, her hands shoving their way into his hair when he kisses her; the long, languid, and delicious movements of closed mouth upon closed mouth. A rough, calloused palm begins a slow exploration of her clothed body; travelling over dips and curves, lightly squeezing, softly cupping. And he both hears and feels her sigh into his mouth when he intensifies the moment; pulling away briefly to glide the tip of his tongue over her top lip before aggressively pushing its way way inside of her mouth. Eyes closing and a shiver passing through her when his mouth abandons hers in favour of finding her neck; gently suckling and nibbling at the skin as his free hand pulls open her hoodie and exposes his collarbone.

Her entire body arches off the bed when teeth, lips, and tongue slowly make their way from one shoulder to the other; violently shuddering when the scruff of his beard brushes against the skin just above the neckline of her tank top. Keeping one hand buried in his hair, the other explores the bulging and rippling muscles in his neck and shoulders; tracing scars and tattoos by memories until he moves further down the bed and she loses all contact. Body tension in anticipation when a lone finger slides up the hem of her shirt; the calloused tip gliding across her stomach and drawing a perfect circle around her navel. Toes curling and goosebumps invading her flesh when he aggressively pushes the fabric of her shirt up to the hollow of her throat; his mouth placing a trail of warm, moist kisses from the top of her belly button to the valley between her breasts. And he groans in annoyance and disappointment when she suddenly yanks at his hair, forcing him to look up at her.

“I need to tell you something.”

“Right now? Can’t it wait? I’m kinda in the middle of something here.”

“Right now,” she confirms, and he gives a sigh and rolls onto his side, hand pulling down her tank top, then settling on her stomach.

“We gotta do this fully clothed. Or I won’t hear a damn word you’re saying.”

“You’re half naked,” she points out. “How’s that fair?”

“I’m not as distracting as you are.” Pressing a chaste kiss to her lips, he uses a fingertip to clear strands of hair away from the sides of her face. “You okay? Is this something I need to worry about?”

“No. I mean, yes. I mean…” She chews on her bottom lip. “No. You don’t need to worry. And yes, I’m alright.”

“What do you want to tell me?”

Rolling onto her stomach, Esme places her chin on his chest. “You have to promise you won’t laugh at me.”

“Why would I do that?”

“Because it’s kind of weird. Silly. Well, at least to me, it is.”

“I would never laugh at you. Or make fun of you. Unless it was about your height.”

Giving a small chuckle, she uses the pad of her thumb to trace the scars on his left shoulder. One a military injury he’d suffered years before he’d met her, the other left from the surgery he’d endured after the nightmare in Dhaka. “It IS kind of embarrassing.”

“How short you are?”

“No.” She playfully tugs at the hair on the underside of his chin. “What I’m going to tell you.”

“I thought we got over that a long time ago; being worried about telling each other things. I’m the last person you should feel embarrassed around. I mean, you’ve seen me with a tube up my dick so I could take a piss. You used to help me to the bathroom when I was in the hospital. It doesn’t get much more embarrassing than that.”

“You might change your mind after you hear this.”

“It can’t be that bad.” Combing his fingers through her hair, his hand briefly settles on the nape of her neck, gently squeezing before sliding under the hem of her shirt and resting in the space between her shoulders. Fingertips tracing slow, repetitive circles over bare, smooth skin. Just tell me.”

Sighing, she scrapes a nail along his beard. “I’m nervous.”

“About what?”

“That’s just it. I don’t know. And it makes no sense. I have no reason to be. But I feel shy and awkward; like we’re some couple just fresh into a relationship. We spent a year together. We shared a life. A bed. We were planning to get married. We wanted to have babies. We bought a house.”

“Five years was a long time. To spend apart.”

“But it came so easily to us. When we were back together. We still had that vibe, you know? We still fit together. Like we were never even apart. At least that’s how it felt to me. There was no hesitation. Not anxiety. We just went back to the way we were. Or close to it, anyway. That’s how it was for me. It wasn’t for you?”

“It was. Which is kind of scary in its own way. It should have been awkward. Considering how things ended.”

“But it wasn’t. And DID things end? For either of us? I may have walked away and a lot of time may have passed, but was it ever REALLY over?”

“No,” he admits. “It wasn’t.”

“Look how easy it came back to us. In New York City. Yeah, there was a lot of hurt and anger and I dropped a whole load of shit into your lap, but..”

“There was nothing shit about it. You showing back, finding out about Millie…”

“...things were still there. Between us. We still loved each other. And it was like we went back to how we were. We were always comfortable with each other; we always talked about anything and everything and nothing ever felt complicated or strange. Not even those first days in Dhaka. Am I making any sense at all?”

Tyler nods.

“So why am I nervous now? Why do I feel like this awkward little schoolgirl who’s getting ready for her first hook-up? It’s silly, right? For me to feel this way?”

“I don’t know. I feel a little nervous, too.”

“Really?”

“It was different in New York City. A lot was going on; between us and with the job and Winston and his bullshit. We didn’t really have time to sit down and think about things. We barely had time to catch our breath, some days.”

“I don’t want you to think it’s a bad thing. How I’m feeling. Because it’s not. There could never be anything bad with us. It’s just overwhelming. Being here…in this place…with you.”

“Do you want to maybe get something else?” Looping hair behind her ears, he skims his knuckles over her cheek. The cuts and bruises nearly fully healed. “Put this place up for sale and…?”

“No. That’s the last thing I want. It’s not about you or this place. Not in a negative way, anyway. It’s just so surreal. That we’re actually here. I spent five years wanting this; missing you and wishing things could be different. And now they are. Somehow we found our way back here. To each other.”

“You’re not the only one that spent five years wanting that.”

“You feel it too, don’t you? How overwhelming it is? In this chaotic, beautiful way? I KNOW you feel it. Because I KNOW you. I know your heart, Tyler. I know how deeply you feel things. How POWERFULLY you feel them. So I know I’m not alone in this.”

“It is a little…” He chooses his words wisely. “...scary.”

“I don’t want to screw this up. I did that once. I don’t want it to happen again.”

“It won’t.” Fingertips glide up her back and over the nape of her neck, hand cupping the back of her head and pulling her towards him; lips meeting hers in a long, soft kiss. His eyes riveted on hers as he brushes the knuckles off his free hand over the swell of her cheek; following the line of her jaw before cupping her chin in his palm, his thumb grazing over her lips.

“I can’t lose you. Not when I just got you back. I can’t lose THIS. We’re finally getting what we wanted. What we planned. We get to raise Millie together. Make an amazing life. Have more babies. Grow old and gray together. And if something takes you out of the equation…”

“I’m not going anywhere. Nothing’s going to happen to me. This is it. Once the mess in New York has been cleaned up and things are finished for good, we don’t have to worry about that life ever again.”

“Promise? Promise me you won’t go back to that.”

“I won’t go back,” he vows and pulls her into another kiss. Longer and deeper, tinged with urgency and desperation. Hunger.

Instead of pursuing it, he wraps her in his arms and rolls onto his back. Lips meeting her forehead before she tucks her face into that safe, warm place between his neck and shoulder.

“You’re home now, Esme.” His hand once more slips up the back of her sweater and tank top, fingertips ghosting along the length of her spine. “Where you belong. Where you’ve ALWAYS belonged.”

[chickensarentcheap]

Lost and Found- Chapter 26

Fandom: Extraction

Pairing: Tyler Rake and Esme Drummond (established OFC. However, you do not need to read the other fics to understand this one)

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

Warnings: profanity, brief mentions of blood, bruises, scrapes, cuts. Nothing major.

Link to Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/43179357/chapters/134444914

My tag list is OPEN. Please just message me or comment on this post to be added :D

*****

The house is one of half a dozen Nik has collected around the world; located on the Amalfi Coast along the southern edge of Italy’s Sorrentine peninsula. A highly secure five-bedroom, six-bathroom villa that backs onto a cliff that overlooks the Tyrrhenian Sea; built a kilometre from the main road and hidden from sight by a dense, expansive lemon grove.

Despite the years of both work experience and friendship, he had never set foot in any of her homes; business always being conducted in neutral yet secretive places, over the telephone, or even -years before- at his old shack in the outback. They have always travelled in different circles; Nik’s beyond-the-job friendships extending to powerful politicians, multi-million and billionaire businessmen, heads of organized crime and the shady, top-notch lawyers that defended them. Tyler prefers to stick with the couple of buddies he’s known for years; the ones that he can trust with nearly every one of his darkest and deepest secrets. Koen and Rata both serving with him in the ‘normal’ ranks of the Australian Army before he secured his place with SASR. The former his direct superior officer for several years; since the day he’d shown up at boot camp as a cocky, wet-behind-the-years eighteen-year-old.

While Nik prefers the sophisticated, luxurious life that being a gun runner and the head of her mercenary business provides her, Tyler has always lived well below his means. Able to afford much more than that shack in the outback and even the house in the Broome, but never feeling the need for something more expensive and flashy. Even keeping the same old pickup he’d had since he was a teenager; doing his own repairs for nearly two decades before finally running the old girl into the ground.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“In my dresser. Top middle drawer.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Mom says that all the time.”

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

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

“No.”

“I can teach you!”

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

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

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

“What else?”

“I gotta brush my teeth.”

“How ‘bout we skip it tonight?”

“Momma won’t like that.”

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

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

“Of course. Would I lie to you?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You good?”

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

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

“Promise?”

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

“That’s a lot!”

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

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

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

“Daddy?”

“Millie?”

“Can I ask you something?”

“You’re supposed to be sleeping.”

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

“What is it?”

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

“We did.”

“In the house you live in now?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“How much older?”

“A lot.”

“How much is that? How old ARE you?”

“I’m forty.”

“Holy shit!”

“Excuse you? Forty’s not THAT old.”

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

“I am.”

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

“I don’t see why we couldn’t.”

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

“You got it all planned, do you?”

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

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

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

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

*****

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Anything I need to worry about or…?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Tyler…wait…”

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

“I wasn’t going to…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sometimes that’s easier said than done.”

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

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

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

“Only if you’ll let me be.”

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

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

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

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

She hesitates.

“Thank you.”

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

*****

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

*****

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

“Hi!” she chirps. “Hi, daddy.”

“Hey…”

“Did you sleep good?”

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

“Nope.”

“You’re okay?”

Millie nods.

“What are you doing? What…?”

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

“Who’s Carmen?”

“Auntie Nik’s cook.”

“Auntie Nik has a cook?”

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

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

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

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

“I’m already like that.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“‘Cause the doctor said so?”

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

The four-year-old nods.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re not fat! You’re thick!”

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

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

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

“Next to me, right?”

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

*****

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

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

“Out like a light.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“She is. Esme and I do good work.”

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

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

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

“All over the damn place.”

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

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

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

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

“Not a lot.”

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

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

“Maybe a bit of both.”

“Maybe…”

“Were you there? When she was born?”

Nik nods. “I was.”

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

"Tyler…”

“Thank you.”

“For what?”

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

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

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

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

“But…”

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

“She’s pretty damn stubborn.”

Nik nods.

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

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

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

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

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

“To her, you were.”

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

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

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

“And then your son came along…”

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

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

“It was a hell of a mistake, Nik.”

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

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

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

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

She blinks at his honesty.

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

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

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

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

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

“Tyler…”

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

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

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

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

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

******

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

“It was a beautiful day.”

Tyler arches a quizzical brow.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Did she ever talk about me to Millie?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“But…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Smiling, she reaches out and lays a hand on his shoulder, lightly squeezing. “It was never about her not loving you, Tyler. It was always about how much she DID.”

[chickensarentcheap]

Lost and Found- Chapter 25

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 @youflickedtooharddamnit @secretaryunpaid @munstysmind @themaradwrites @thebejeweledwatercat @ninjasawakenedmystar @asirensrage @theesirenteller @residentdormouse @kmc1989 @fanficanatic-tw, @karimac @alisbackalleybbq @arrthurpendragon @ocappreciationtag @occommunity

Warnings: profanity, mentions of blood and gun violence

Link to Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/43179357/chapters/133146532

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

*****

When he regains consciousness, it’s to the smell of gasoline and the taste of blood on his lips. Confused and disoriented; his heart pounding furiously in his ears as the world spins groggily around him. The SUV on its roof in the middle of the intersection with its tires still spinning; his body wedged awkwardly -and painfully- between the driver’s seat and the shattered window, and twisted and bent door frame. Agony surging through him when he wrenches his arm free; using the sleeve of his jacket to clear blood from his forehead and eyes before blindly reaching for Esme. Snagging her by the front of the bulletproof vest, he aggressively shakes her; repeatedly calling her name, yet receiving no response. And when his head stops swimming and his vision clears, he finally glances over; fear like no other grabbing hold of him when he discovers her limp and seemingly lifeless. Her battered body held firmly in place by her intact seatbelt with her head slumped to the side; blood trickling from her nose and lips and streaming down her face. Matting her hair and dripping onto the upholstered ceiling of the SUV.

“No…no….no….no….” Fighting back a mixture of terror and nausea, he reaches into her coat and places two fingers against the side of her neck; relieved when he finds a strong pulse. “We gotta move.” He addresses her as if she were conscious; using a lone fingertip to clear the blood from her lips and under her nose. “I gotta get you out of here.”

Grunting in pain, he peels away the velcro on his vest; momentarily removing it to shrug out of his jacket; tucking the latter around her body and covering her face. Knowing he won’t fit the shattered driver’s side window with its badly dented and deformed frame, he instead climbs back behind the wheel. Pressing himself back against the seat and then using both feet to kick out the already cracked and crumbling windshield. He allows his body to fall towards the ceiling; muttering profanities when his sternum solidly connects with the steering wheel; sending a shockwave of pain that travels through his rib cage and into the middle of his back and momentarily knocking the wind out of his lungs.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Let us give you a hand. Just let…”

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

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

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

“Millie?”

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

“She’s okay?”

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

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

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

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

“Can you tell me where else it hurts?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m cold.”

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

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

“Millie..”

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

“She’s my baby.”

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

“Promise?”

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

“I’m scared.”

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

She attempts a small laugh, then winces.

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

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

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

“That’s an understatement.”

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

“I’m sorry.”

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

“I need to rest my eyes.”

“Esme…”

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

“Alright…”

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

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

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

******

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

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

“What happened?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That’s not what I…”

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

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

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

“So I’ll ask again. WHAT happened?”

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

“Barely.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I AM calm.”

She stares at him pointedly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I CAN handle it.”

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

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

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

“And I’m done.”

“If that’s what you want.”

“It is.”

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

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

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

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

“Tyler…”

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

“So you’re doing this for her.”

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

“That’s not what I was doing. I…”

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

“I’ve never…”

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

“She did.”

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

“Why would I…?”

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

“Tyler…”

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

“You know that’s not true. You…”

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

“You’re my friend. My FAMILY. You…”

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

“I kept you clean. Sober. I…”

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

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

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

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

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

“I never…”

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

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

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

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

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

“You alright?”

Millie shakes her head.

“Talk to me.”

“I’m sad.”

“Because of mumma.”

She nods.

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

“But she’s gonna be okay, right?”

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

“You promise?”

“I promise.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What we were talking about before…”

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

“I just…”

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

Millie tilts her head back. “I don’t need to hear what?”

“Adult stuff.”

“I hear adult stuff all the time.”

“Well, you don’t need to hear this.”

“Says who?”

“Says me. I’m the boss now.”

“Mommy’s the boss.”

“Not now. I’m here to take over. It’s what dads do.”

“Mommy is STILL the boss. My boss, your boss….”

“My boss, huh? Is that what she says? That she’s my boss?”

“She doesn’t need to say it. You know she is.”

“I wear the pants in this family.”

“Nope. Mom does. She’ll let you pretend you do, but…”

“You’re a real smart ass, you know that? I wonder who you get that from?”

“Definitely from you.”

“You think so, do ya?” Laying a hand over her face, he lightly and playfully jostles her head from side to side. Then pinches her cheeks between them and forefinger, tilting her face upwards and pressing a kiss to her puckered lips. “Did you have enough to eat?” He gently pats her stomach. “You feeling good?”

“I’m full! My tummy feels super fat!”

“Mine does, too.”

“We can be chubby together!”

“Sounds like a good plan. Think mumma will still love us? When we’re chubby?”

“Mumma will love us no matter what!” Yawning noisily, she wriggles around in his lap; until her legs are on either side of his waist and her stomach is flat against him. Her one arm curling around his neck as a thumb wedges itself firmly in her mouth.

The latter he doesn’t discourage; remembering Esme’s ‘warning’ that it’s a coping mechanism when Millie is anxious or stressed. Instead, he rests his chin on top of her head, holding her tightly against him with a hand on the nape of her neck. The fingers of the other draw slowly, smooth patterns on her back until he feels her completely relax against him; her lashes tickling his skin when her eyes flutter closed and her arm slipping from around his neck and falling loosely to her sides. And it’s so bittersweet; his heart feeling both full and grateful for the trust and love she has in him, but aching for the years he’d missed and the trauma she’d been through.

“I’m doing the right thing, Nik. By her. She’s gone long enough without her dad, don’t you think?”

She nods.

“None of this had to happen. I didn’t have to be kept out of her life. Had I known about her, I could have saved her…and her mother…from all of this. And so could have you. Deep down you know that, yeah? That if you’d only just told me…”

“It was never my intention. For any of this to happen.”

“And you not only kept Millie from me, you dragged her mum back into this life. She never really wanted this. She wanted to be AWAY from it. It was always the plan; buy a house, get married, have kids, never think of this life again. And now look. Look at what’s happened. What you’ve done.”

“If we could sit down and talk about things without outside influence and…”

“No more talking. There’s nothing left to say. Not about this anyway.” Wrapping Millie tightly in his embrace, he pushes the chair away from the table and stands. Two long strides taking to him the curtains that separate them from the passenger cabin.

“Tyler…”

“I’m done, Nik. Not just with this conversation, but with this life. I can’t do it anymore. Millie needs me. So does her mum. And to be honest, I need them just as much. If not more.”

“You don’t have to walk away entirely. You don’t…”

“Once everything is settled and you’ve taken care of shit in New York, that’s it. You gotta cut me loose. Lose my number. Pretend you never even knew me if you have to. It’s just time. For me to move on. Try my hand at normal.”

“Do you really think you’ll be happy with that? With that kind of life?”

“I walked away before. Started making a life like that. Only it was taken from me. And KEPT from me. I’m not going through that again. I lost Esme once. There’s not gonna be a second time.”

*****

“Momma!”

“Easy…easy…” Three hours later, Tyler snags Millie by the back of her shirt before she can manage to pounce onto the cot. Making a game of tossing her high in the air; effortlessly catching her before lowering her down towards her mother.

“Amelia…” Her tearful mother reaches out for her; arms and hands trembling from a mixture of the pain meds lingering in her system and the shock that her injured body is still experiencing. Managing to squeeze her daughter as tight as both will allow, she showers Millie’s cheeks, forehead, and lips with kisses.

The four-year-old struggles to hold back her tears, her chin and lower lip wobbling as her tiny hands clasp her mother’s cheeks. Careful of the various bruises and cuts. “You scared me, momma! I was so worried about you!”

“I didn’t mean to frighten you. That’s the last thing I would ever want. Are you okay?”

Millie nods. “I’m fine. No bad guys came after us. Why did they hurt you? And Tyler? Why…?”

“Because they think I deserve to be hurt. Because I told on Alessio’s family.”

“‘Cause they’re bad people?”

“Very bad. And I had to tell on them. So they couldn’t hurt anyone else.”

“If they’re bad people, they deserve to be in trouble.”

“They certainly do. Have you been a good girl? YOU haven’t been any trouble, have you?”

“I’ve been really good, I promise. I played on Tyler’s phone, and watched some Bluey, and drew some pictures, and then had a really big lunch!”

“And took a nap,” Tyler adds. “We both did.”

“It was a REALLY good nap,” Millie says. “I had a dream about going to the beach! But when I woke up, I remembered that I need a new bathing suit. Remember? How my one from this summer is too small now?”

“We’ll get you a new bathing suit. We’ll get you a whole bunch, even. One for every day of the week. Because something tells me we’re going to spend A LOT of time at the beach.”

“Tyler said he’d teach me how to surf! He said we could be surfing buddies. He also said you always tried to learn, but you were never any good at it.”

“Oh really…” Esme smirks up at him. “...he said that, did he?”

“I also told her that what you lacked in skill and talent, you made up for in enthusiasm.” Setting Millie down on the edge of the cot, he once more gently reminds her to be careful of her mother’s bruised and battered body.

“Are you feeling any better, momma?” The little one picks up one of her mother’s hands in both of her own. “I don’t want you to be hurt. It makes my heart super sad.”

“That’s because you have such a good one. A HUGE one. Just like your daddy. I think you get all your really good stuff from him.”

A grin tugs at the corners of Tyler’s mouth. “I think your mumma totally underestimates herself.”

“Is the medicine making you better? Did the doctor say you’d be okay soon?”

“He said it’s going to take a little bit,” Esme explains. “For my body to heal up and get back to where it was before. But the medicine DOES help; it makes the ouchies not hurt so much. You don’t need to worry about me, okay? I’m going to be fine. Nothing that a lot of rest won’t fix.”

“Tyler and I can take care of you. For as long as it takes. We can bring you breakfast and lunch and supper in bed, we can sit and watch TV with you, we can read to you. And cuddle and take naps!”

“All the things that will heal me up in no time.”

“Speaking of helping your mumma heal…” Tyler smoothes a hand over Millie’s hair. “...why don’t you go and finish that picture you're working on and then bring everything here. Show her what you made. I’m sure that’ll cheer her up.”

“I would love to see your pictures. All of them.”

Millie slides off the cot and rushes for the curtain, then hurries back to peck her mom on the lips.

Esme waits; giving her daughter a chance to slip out of the room and be out of earshot. “Has she been alright?”

“She’s had a couple of rough moments,” Tyler admits, dropping to a knee at her bedside. “It was hard on her; seeing you unconscious and all banged up. Nik tried to get to her before she managed to see much, but…”

“She’s tough. Like you.”

“Naw, I think she gets that toughness from her mum.”

“She’s doing okay, considering?”

“Like I said, we had some rough patches, but she got through them. She’s just worried about her mumma.”

“Something tells me you are too.”

“Am I that predictable?”

“You’re not the only one that can be a worry wart.” Reaching up to clear the longer strands of hair off his forehead, she frowns as her fingertips search the various wounds and abrasions adorning his skin. “Are YOU okay?”

“Just some cuts and bruises. Nothing serious. I’ve had worse.”

“WAY worse. Got a lot of blood on you, though.”

“Haven’t gotten the chance to get cleaned up yet.” Capturing her hand in his, he pushes his fingers through hers and places a kiss at the base of her wrist. “And besides, most of it isn’t even mine.”

“Mine?”

He nods, then leans in to press a kiss to her brow.

“Did you talk to the medic? What did he say?”

“He’s not a hundred percent sure. When it comes to your injuries.”

“But…”

“You’ve got a few broken ribs, probably a bruised kidney and liver And the seat belt fucked up your chest; it’s why you were having such a hard time breathing. He doesn’t think anything’s broken, but it’s going to hurt like hell for a while. Probably a torn muscle. Or two.”

“What about my head?”

“Cut it open pretty good. Needed seventeen stitches. And you’ve got a pretty bad concussion. We’ll have to keep an eye on you; just in case there’s something worse going on in that pretty little head of yours. How ARE you feeling? A little better? You got a lot of meds in you.”

“I feel like I’ve been hit by a truck. Oh, wait…” She manages a small, pained laugh. “...that’s because I was.”

“I am so sorry, Me. I am so fucking sorry.”

“For what? None of this is your fault. You didn’t…”

“I got distracted. Let my guard down. If I’d just kept my head in the game…”

“Tyler…” She tightly squeezes his hand. “...you didn’t do anything wrong.”

“I was supposed to protect you. Get you out there. In one piece.”

“Last time I checked, I hadn’t lost any pieces.”

“You weren’t supposed to get hurt. I was supposed to get you to the airport and onto the plane…”

“And you DID. I’m here, aren’t I?”

“It came way too close to you NOT being here.”

“But I AM. You got me here. Admittedly a little worse for wear, but…” She reaches up to affectionately tousle his hair, wincing as the IV needle pinches her skin.. “...I’m breathing, aren’t I?”

“Thankfully.”

“I knew you would do this. Beat yourself up. Blame yourself. You did the same thing after Dhaka. Spent nearly a whole two months after you were released from the hospital obsessing over it; second guessing every decision you made. Dhaka wasn’t your fault. In the same way this wasn’t.”

“I just hate it. Every fucking second. Seeing you this. I’m used to being where you are. Not on this side of things.”

“It’s better that it was me this happened to. If it had been you? I wouldn’t have been able to get you out of there. I wouldn’t have been able to fight off all those threats. We never would have made it here. We never would have seen Millie again. She wouldn’t have her mom or her dad.”

“If you’re trying to make me feel better about all of this…”

“I just want you to see how I look at things. How I look at YOU. We’re only alive because the shoe WAS on the other foot. Because you had to be the one to get me out of there. Get us BOTH out of there. It would have been a disaster if had been any other way. And you know that.”

He nods slowly as he considers her words, then leans in to kiss her. The long, soft press of closed mouth upon closed mouth; his eyes closing as he briefly rests his forehead against hers. And his free hand comes to rest on the top of her head when he pulls away; fingers pushing through her hair, the tips gently massaging her scalp. “We’re going to stay at Nik’s for a few days. There’ll be a doctor meeting us there; he’ll check you out, make sure the medic didn’t miss anything serious. She’ll keep him on call. In case anything goes wrong and you need more care.”

“I hope THAT doesn’t happen.”

“And she’s going to send some people to Broome. Make sure there’s no trouble waiting for us. The last thing I want is to bring you and Millie there and something bad happening.”

“If you think that staying away for a few days is for the best…”

“I do. I don’t want to take any chances. Not with you and Millie. Especially not with her. It’ll give us some peace of mind; knowing that everything’s been checked out and cleared. You’re alright with that?”

“I trust you. To make the right decision for us.”

“I’m not sure you should. Considering the mess you’re in right now…”

“I’m alive because you protected me. All those times you’ve told me that you’d do anything for me? Stop at nothing to keep me safe? I’ve never doubted it. Not once.”

“I can’t wait until this is over. Until it’s all behind us.”

“And then that’s it? It’s done? YOU’RE done?”

“Yeah…” Giving her a reassuring smile, he pecks the tip of her nose. “...I’m done.”

“It’s going to be weird. Not being part of this world at all.”

“Weird in a good way, I hope.”

Nodding, she runs her knuckles along his jaw. “In a VERY good way.”

[chickensarentcheap]

In a Heartbeat- Chapter 7

Fandom: Extraction

PAIRING: TYLER RAKE AND ESME DRUMMOND (ESTABLISHED OFC. YOU DO NOT NEED TO READ THE OTHER STORIES TO UNDERSTAND THIS ONE)

SUMMARY:  Dhaka nearly ended everything before it even began.  In it’s aftermath and with Tyler’s life teetering on the threshold between life and death, Esme is about to realize just how strong she can be.  And that love happens when it happens. There’s no rules. No rhyme or reason. No timeline.  

WARNINGS: profanity, very brief mentions of spousal abuse and rape

TAGGING: @tragiclyhip @youflickedtooharddamnit @secretaryunpaid @thebejeweledwatercat @munstysmind

@asirensrage @residentdormouse @kmc1989 @karimac @arrthurpendragon

@fanficanatic-tw @ocappreciationtag @occommunity @ninjasawakenedmystar

@alisbackalleybbq

My tag list Is OPEN. Please just ask if you'd like to be added :)

Link to Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/48691714/chapters/141050257

***

Esme lingers on the threshold between the living room and kitchen; perched on the edge of the dining table, a mug of hot chocolate clutched in both hands. Nursing her drink as she watches him sleep; sprawled out on the couch, a lightly snoring Lucy curled up at his feet and two newly acquired chickens snoozing between him and the back of the sofa: his battered, still healing body and his traumatized, haunted mind at rest. Feet peeking out from the bottom of the plaid blanket covering him and the hood of his sweatshirt pulled over his head; those large, strong hands -with their various scars and calluses- folded together and resting on his chest. Worn out from the day and desperately needing a late afternoon nap; pushing himself past the point of exhaustion in his first full day out of the hospital. Attempting to make up for lost time; stubbornly refusing to cut the day short, or even to take short breaks to rest and catch his breath.

She already knows him so well; fully aware of his reluctance to accept his limitations and the worry he harbours that he’s somehow ‘letting her down’. Afraid -despite the months of devotion she’d already shown by remaining by his side in the hospital, that her continued care of her would soon become taxing; burdened by the task of helping nurse him back to health both physically AND mentally. Despising the mere notion of appearing weak in front of her; he’d turned down all suggestions to sit and rest; ignoring the reminders that they had lots of time left together. There was no rush; there were many more hours -days, weeks, months, YEARS- ahead to enjoy the fresh and get ‘out and about’.

The first hour they’d spent wandering the outdoor market; picking out produce and eggs, various baked goods and freshly cut meats. Afterwards, they indulged in a filling lunch at one of the smaller restaurants. Tucked into a booth at the back of the quaint establishment; engaging in small talk interspersed with sexual innuendos and flirtatious comments while sipping lattes and cappuccinos, and sampling various Austrian foods and desserts. Ending the day by finding a home furnishing store and ordering the first items to personalize their house; a bigger fridge, a stove, a mixer for her baking and new pots and pans. Everything she’d need to make cakes, cookies, pies and other desserts. A brand new -and much more comfortable- bed, dressers, a desk and bookshelf.

They’d only returned to the cabin once a list was made of the other ‘wants and needs’; workout equipment, new laptops, a larger TV. Paint for the both master bath and the much smaller, main washroom, cupboards and countertops for the kitchen. While unsure of how long the Gmunden would be home, they’re determined to make their surroundings as cheerful and livable as possible; planning on keeping the place a ‘getaway’ when it was time to move on to something bigger. Whether it be in Australia or one of the half dozen European cities that had made a ‘shortlist’. Prague, Paris, Zurich, Amsterdam, Copenhagen.

She shivers; a chill setting in as the nearby fire begins to die. Setting her mug on the cluttered dining table, she moves towards the fireplace; adding a handful of dry wood and then using the poker to stoke it ‘alive’. She holds her hands out towards the flames, warming both front and back and rubbing vigorously at her upper arms. And when she hears a dull thud and glances over her shoulder; Lucy’s ears immediately perking up, dark eyes widening, head raising out of curiosity. Tyler’s bad leg -brace and all- now hanging over the side of the couch, foot on the floor as he continues to sleep.

Esme pads towards him; carefully picking up his leg and placing it back on the couch. Peeling the throw away from his body, she stretches it out; tucking it tightly around his sides, under both legs and over his feet. And when she attempts to step away, he grabs ahold of her wrist and pulls her closer; fingers gliding over the top of her hand before pushing their way through hers.

His eyes remain closed. Voice -heavy with sleep- resonating deep in his chest. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. Everything’s fine.”

“What’re you doing?”

“Babying you.”

Tyler scowls.

“I was making sure you were comfortable. Your bad leg was hanging off the couch; if I left it like that, you’d wake up in a world of hurt. Not to mention your big ass feet were poking out of the blanket. Don’t want you catching a cold.”

“My feet aren’t that big.”

“Your feet are massive, okay. You can house a family of four in each of your shoes.”

“Maybe your feet are just abnormally small. Like the rest of you.”

“You know, you’re lucky you’re cute. Especially when you're sleepy. You’re extra pouty when you’re sleepy.”

“I do NOT pout.”

“You most certainly do.”

He presses the heel of his palm into one eye, followed by the other, then squints up at her. “Everything alright? You okay?”

“Why wouldn’t I be? Did something happen? You have a dream where I got hurt or something? Not one of those Dhaka dreams, was it? Gaspar getting a hold of me and taking me to Asif and…”

“No. Thank god. I don’t want to go through that again. Even if it isn’t real. There was no dream. I guess you’re just beginning to rub off on me. I’m starting to worry all the time now.”

“There’s nothing for you to worry about. I’m fine. Everything’s good.” Leaning over the couch, she presses a chaste kiss to his lips. “Everything’s very good, actually.”

“Yeah…” As a slow grin spreads across his face, he reaches up to loop wayward strands of hair behind her ears. “...it is.”

“Try and get a little more sleep, alright? You overdid it, today. And I don’t want you to be paying the price tomorrow.”

“Something tells me that’s inevitable.”

“You need to know your limitations. And be okay with them. Slow and steady wins the race, right? I don’t want you pushing it and getting hurt. Pace yourself, babe. That’s the only way you’ll get back to a hundred percent.”

“I was never there to begin with.”

“Well, with all the repairing and fine-tuning they did in Dubai, you’ll probably end up being in even better shape than before. But that’s a long way away. And that’s perfectly fine. You know that, right? That you don’t have to rush things.”

“I just want to be who you need me to be. Who you deserve. I just want to make you happy.”

“You know what makes me happy? You taking care of yourself. And letting me help along the way. THAT’S what makes me happy.”

A grin tugs at the corners of his mouth. “Not just me in general?”

“I think that goes without saying. Now…” Pulling the throw up to his chin, she tucks it around his body and then combs her fingers through his hair. Lips warm and soft as they meet his brow. “...you get a little more sleep and I’ll figure something out for dinner.”

“Will it be edible?”

Smirking, she flicks the tip of his nose with her thumb and forefinger. “Fuck you, Tyler.”

Chuckling, he grabs hold of her sweatshirt and pulls her downwards. An arm circling her waist when she loses her balance; giving a small shriek of surprise and then giggling when she lands on top of him. He settles one palm in the middle of her spine and cradles the back of her with the other; fingers pushing through her hair and softly massaging her scalp.

Neither speak again. And she finds herself quickly and easily relaxed by the warmth radiating off his body, the sound of his heart beating within his chest, and the familiar smell that clings to his skin and clothes. She feels content and secure. Adored. Protected. And she basks in the moment. Enjoying the contact; remaining where she is until his breathing slows and softens and his arms fall limp at his sides.

*****

She takes Lucy for her nighttime walk while dinner finishes; soup simmering on the hot plate, a salad waiting in the fridge, garlic loaves keeping warm in the toaster oven. Bundled up in boots and parka, knit beanie and mittens, she trudges through the snow and down to the dock; enjoying the cold, crisp air and the blanket of stars that shimmer within a black velvet sky. She feels free for the first time in a LONG time; able to breathe without the fear of either the past or present breathing down her neck. At last content in her own skin and comfortable and relaxed in her surroundings. Finally able to shed the last of her baggage; the mountains of bad decisions, the trauma left behind from time with an unstable and horrifically abusive man, a child and teenagehood spent walking on eggshells. She had devoted years to driving herself to the brink of both mental and physical exhaustion; weary and worn trying to win the love and respect of the woman who’d given birth to her, but had hated her from the moment she took her first breath.

It seems easier to deal with now. The memories of cruel words and vicious hands, the agony of the wounds inflicted both internally and externally. She has a safe place to fall; someone she trusts with both life and heart. Who wants nothing more than to make her happy and keep her safe, secure, and protected.

Someone who will stop at nothing to make those things a reality.

For once in her life, love doesn’t hurt. It’s patience and it’s sacrifice. It’s caring more about your partner than you do about yourself. It’s feeling happy whenever they’re in the same room as you; enjoying the sound of their voice and laugh, their touch and the taste of their kiss. Never able to get enough of them; the conversations and the feel of their hand in yours. And the way your body not only easily melts into theirs, but is also capable of eagerly and hungrily responding.

They’re halfway back to the cabin when she sees the lights flicker on; followed by the TV and Tyler’s form passing by the living room window as he limps his way into the kitchen. This is her life now. Her home. It’s modest and simple, yet she doesn’t find herself craving more. It’s the most content and comfortable she’s been in a long time; finally ‘seen’ and understood by someone who doesn’t judge her based on her past or things she’d done to make money and survive. Who somehow doesn’t see the mountain of flaws and imperfections that she does. Carving out an existence together; optimistic about both the healing process and their future together.

She’s a foot from the door when her phone vibrates in her jacket pocket. Using her teeth to yank off her mittens, she fishes the cell from its hiding spot; frowning when she sees the name and number plastered across the screen.

It’s become far more than a once-daily experience. Over two dozen texts and voicemails left; ranging from sugary sweet requests for her to call back to annoyed sighs and questions of her whereabouts and her well-being, Culminating in the ranting and raving of a narcissist; attempts at gaslighting, vile name-calling, and threats to ‘track her down and beat her ass’ and ‘drag her back to where she belongs’. And she’s finally had enough; unwillingly to disrupt or sacrifice the peace, comfort, and happiness she’s finally submerged in.

“Hello?”

“So you ARE alive.”

“Is that disappointment in your voice?”

“Don’t start. I didn’t call for THIS.”

“What did you call for, mother? What HAVE you been calling for? Non-stop.”

“You’re my baby. My little girl. My only daughter. Have you ever thought that…”

Esme rolls her eyes. Instead of opening the door, she heads for the battered and weathered loveseat that resides on the porch; sighing heavily as she drops heavily onto it. Lucy dutifully follows behind; lying across her feet, head cocked to the side as she curiously watches her. “Have you been drinking?”

“No, I haven’t been drinking! Why would you…?”

“The only time you ever say anything remotely nice to me is when you’ve got a few in you. How much have you had? If you’re at this level of ass-kissing, it has to be at least a bottle of rye. Or two.”

“Like I told you, I haven’t been drinking. I…”

“You didn’t call to hear my bullshit, and I didn’t answer to hear yours.”

“Okay, so I may have had a couple of glasses of wine with dinner. But…”

“And likely half a dozen for dessert.”

“What is your problem? I call to check up on you and see how you’re doing and this is the treatment I get? For caring about my child? It’s been months since we’ve spoken. Since you’ve even attempted to touch base. I’ve left you all kinds of voicemails and text messages and.…”

“What is your sudden interest in my life? What do you suddenly care about how I’m doing and what I’m doing? If I wanted you to know, I would have talked to you a long time ago. I called you from Dubai. I let you know that I was alive and well, didn’t I?”

“That was almost ten months ago! Almost a full year. Despite what you think, I DO care about you, Esme. I DO love you.”

She gives a derisive snort.

“You were the one that pushed me away. Severed ties. When you decided to up and leave the Marine Corps and abandon your family. You just packed everything up and moved to New York City and…”

“My then-husband put me in the ICU. I left to get away from him. To start a life without him. I…”

“You could have worked things out. Instead of filing for divorce. You could have tried harder. Despite all of his issues and all of his anger, he’s a good man. And he WAS good to you. At times. You just choose to ignore that. If you were just honest with yourself…”

“Being honest with myself would have been knowing to leave YEARS ago. Not waiting until he nearly killed me.”

Her mother scoffs. “It wasn’t THAT bad. But you have always been a tad dramatic. Quite infamous when it comes to exaggeration. Now, I know things got a little…testy…at times, but…”

“A little testy? He used to beat the shit out of me, mom. If he didn’t like the food I made, he’d throw it on the floor, force me down on all fours, and make me eat it. Like I was a fucking animal. ‘Testy’ doesn’t even begin to scratch the surface.”

“I know Mark has his faults. I know he wasn’t perfect, but…”

“He used to rape me. When I’d say ‘no’. I was property to him. Something he owned. He said it was my ‘wifely duty’ to put out for him. And it was his duty to punish me when I didn’t. So yeah, he had his faults, alright.”

“You’re not exactly an easy person to live with, Esme. You’re not some angel yourself.”

“I don’t claim to be perfect. In way, shape, or form. But didn’t deserve any of the things he did to me. You have some hell of a nerve sticking up for him, you know that? Choosing him and his bullshit over your own daughter? But I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. I’ve always been lower than dirt to you.”

“You always have to be the victim, don’t you.”

“I WAS the victim. I was Mark’s, I was yours. But here I am, mom. Thriving. Making a life for myself. Being happy. All those you and Mark tried to kill inside of me? They’re still here. And you’ll never get close enough to hurt me ever again.”

“And just where ARE you making this wonderful, imaginary life for yourself? Where are you…?”

“It’s not imaginary. It’s very much real. And you know, it might not be all sunshine and roses. But it is wonderful. In a lot of ways.”

“Are you with him?”

“I am.”

“So it wasn’t just a passing thing. Like we’d all hoped. When you’d called to say that you’d met someone and were running away with them…”

“I didn’t run away. I didn’t have anything to run away from. I started over. Made a life for myself.”

“You had a life here. A mother, a stepfather, brothers, nieces, nephews…”

“I haven’t bothered with any of you…REALLY bothered with you…in years. I haven’t lived in Colorado in a long time.”

“When you abandoned your husband and your marriage and…”

“I saved myself. You can pretend that Mark is some sort of golden boy; that he’s God's gift to women and has never done anything wrong in his entire life. You can ignore all the evidence that’s been gathered against him; the police and hospital reports, the pictures of all the bumps and bruises and scratches and broken bones. You burying in the sand or up his ass doesn't change the fact that he’s a massive piece of shit.”

“You’re not exactly perfect yourself, Esme. I’ve lived with you. I know what kind of challenge you can be. You’re stubborn and high-strung and confrontational and…”

“And I didn’t deserve a damn thing that man did to me. Look, if you called just annoy the hell out of me, congratulations. You were successful. I’m going to hang up now. Because I don’t have the time or the tolerance for your bullshit. Goodbye, mother. Don’t…”

“Where are you?”

“Somewhere you won’t find me.”

“Are you back in the States?”

“No.”

“Well, I know you didn’t go back to Prague. Kyle showed up at your place a couple of weeks ago; the landlord told him that someone had come for your things and handled what was left on your lease. Paid off the final eight months. In cash.”

“Now you have Kyle doing your dirty work for you? When you say jump, does he ask ‘how high?’? You really will stop at nothing to weasel your way into my life. Stick your nose where it doesn’t belong.”

“You’re my daughter. My child. My…”

“No, mother. I’m a grown adult. Who is minding her own business and building a life for herself. Don’t start pretending to start giving a shit about me. It’s a little too late for that.”

“Am I at least allowed to know where you are?”

“I’m safe. That’s all that matters.”

“With him.”

“He has a name. I know you have this unhinged, bizarre hate towards him, but…”

“He took you away from me. From your family. He’s keeping you god knows where…”

“I’m here willingly. I’m here because I want to be. No one is keeping me under lock and key. Or holding a gun to my head. Why can’t that be enough for you? Knowing that I’m okay. That I’m safe and secure and protected. That I’m happy. Why…?”

“You barely know him. You…”

“Tyler, mom. His name is Tyler. Can’t you show him just that little bit of respect? He saved me. In every way a person CAN be saved. And we’re happy here. With each other. We’re making a life together. And I don’t want you or anyone else ruining that for us.”

“Where exactly is here? Australia? Did you go back there with him?”

“No. Not yet. We’ll get there, though. Eventually. Right now we’re just taking things easy. Lying low. Concentrating on each other. Getting to know one another.”

“And you can’t tell me where all of this is happening?”

“We’re in Europe.”

“Europe is a big place, Esme.”

“‘We’re in Austria.”

“Where in Austria?”

“Bergenz.” The lie rolls easily off her tongue. “A little place right near Lake Constance. It’s nice and quiet. Nothing fancy.”

“I can’t believe you’re doing this. Throwing your life away for some man. You barely know him; you went away on a business trip and ended up someone’s whore. You…”

“I love him. And he loves me. He…”

“You’re in love with what he can give you. How rich IS he?”

“What the hell kind of question is that? I’m not some gold digger, mother. I never have. But for your information, he’s just a regular guy. Strictly blue collar. He’s not a rich man by any stretch of the imagination. At least not when it comes to money, anyway.”

“What kind of blue-collar job puts someone in the hospital for months on end?”

“I already told you. He does private security. A job went south. He got hurt. Badly.”

“And you just somewhat randomly happened to meet him? While doing your own job? You do realize how suspicious that sounds, don’t you?”

“It’s what happened. We ended up in each other’s paths. It’s as simple as that.”

“The whole thing reeks, Esme. Your entire story. How you met him, what he does for a living, what happened to him in some shit hole, third world country. You must realize how lame this all sounds, don’t you? How pathetic? I know you’re hiding something.”

“I told you the basics. You don’t need to know anything else. What goes on between Tyler and me? That’s our business. Not yours. So you’ll just have to learn to accept it; the fact I met someone and I’m not coming home.”

“The hell I do.”

“Look, let’s just end things here, okay? You know I’m alive. You know I’m safe. That’s all that matters.”

“It’s only a matter of time. Before things go bad. It’s how things in your life are. It’s how YOU are.”

“Goodbye, mom.”

“Don’t think you can come crawling back here when he tosses you to the curb. When he finally grows tired of your bullshit and lashes out. Just like Mark did. Don’t you…”

“I said goodbye, mom.”

Ending the call before anything else can be said, she sits with her eyes closed as she attempts to regain her composure. She feels light-headed and nauseous; her chest is impossibly tight, her hands tremble violently as they tightly clutch the phone. And she doesn’t move until Lucy gives a pitiful whine and rests her head on her thigh.

“Everything’s okay,” she assures the dog. Managing a smile, she scratches under Lucy’s chin, strokes her ears and ruffles the fur at the nape of her neck. “I’m fine, sweet girl” Leaning down to place a kiss on the dog’s nose, she laughs when her face is bathed in kisses in response. “Best therapist ever,” she declares and stands. “Now let’s go and get some dinner”

*****

Tyler stands at the counter; briefly glancing over his shoulder when he hears the door open. Greeting her with a smile before returning to the task at hand; removing plates, cups, and cutlery from cupboards and drawers, stirring the pot of soup that simmers on the hot plate.

“I was starting to get worried. Thought maybe a coyote got you. Or that you decided to run away from home.”

“Was that wishful thinking on your part?” she teases, as she toes off her boots and yanks the knit beaning from her head. Smoothing a palm over her hair, then shoving the garment into one of the pockets on her coat. “Were you hoping I disappeared? Or that I ended up some tasty snack for the wildlife?”

“Yeah…right…” He uses a pair of metal tongs to scoop salad onto the empty plates “I can’t believe you’d even ask me that.”

“I have bad news for you, buddy…” Shrugging out of her coat, she places it over his as it hangs on a hook next to the door. “...you can’t get rid of me that easy.”

“Maybe I don’t want to get rid of you at all. Have you ever considered that?”

“Have you ever considered you’re a glutton for punishment? What’s the saying?” Wanders into the living room, she shoves her feet into a pair of Ugg slippers before joining him in the kitchen. “Be careful what you wish for?”

“If spending the next forty, fifty years with you is the worst that could happen to me, I’ll consider myself extremely lucky.”

“Jesus…” Desperately needing that closeness, connection and security that only he can provide, she steps behind him, wrapping her arms around his waist and resting her head against his back. “...maybe your brain injury IS worse than they thought.”

“This is probably the most coherent I’ve been thinking in years.” He gives her the time she needs; alternating between sipping a mug of coffee and repeatedly cleaning the same spot on the counter as she clings to him. Not moving or speaking until she pats her hands against his stomach, squeezes his hips, and steps back. Gulping down his drink before turning to face her. “Everything alright?”

“I finally got up the nerve to answer the phone. I wish I could say I’m pleasantly surprised about how things went…”

“That good, huh?”

“Not nearly as bad as I thought it would be, but still pretty goddamn awful.”

“I’m sorry. I never should have got on you about talking to her. I just thought the sooner you did, the sooner she’d just leave you the fuck alone.”

“It’s not your fault she’s a total cunt. And you were right; I did need to get my head out of my ass and deal with her. She would have just kept calling and leaving voice messages until I finally had a mental breakdown. Which…who knows…could be her end game.”

“What did she want?” Handing her a bowl of salad and a fork, he leans against the counter and digs into his own. “Just checking up on ya? Making sure I’m not holding you hostage? Putting drugs in your food? Forcing you to comply and stay in my…what did she call it…den of iniquity?”

“She’s a crazy bitch. She wanted to know when I was coming home. Colorado hasn’t been home in over a decade. I don’t know why the hell she thought I’d head there. Want to hear the most fucked up part? A total mommy dearest moment? She sent my brother Kyle to Prague. To my apartment. I guess she thought I was bullshitting about where I was. That I was merely locking myself in the house and ignoring everyone.”

“Must have been a hell of a shock when he found your place was empty.”

“Just a bit. I told her we were in Austria; just lying low, taking it easy and recuperating. I didn’t say EXACTLY where, though. The last thing we need is her sending a search party to Gmunden.”

“Isn’t the biggest place. They could probably just ask in town and then track us down.”

“It wouldn’t be too difficult. I mean, a six-foot-three Australian with a bad limp and a resting asshole face doesn’t exactly blend into the crowd.”

“You’re going to have to tell her eventually. The WHOLE truth. Because it WILL get out. Somehow. And not hearing it from you will cause a whole world of trouble.”

“It’s not an easy thing to tell people, you know? Would you want to hear it? That your kid was caught up in black ops? That she was selling people out to mercenaries? That she was making money lying about who she was and using and deceiving people?”

“It would be hard to hear. But, they’re still my kid and…”

“My mother is NOT like us. She doesn’t think the way we do. And she’s hardly a parent. At least she was never one to me.”

“Are you embarrassed? Of the truth?”

“What would I be embarrassed of? And please don’t say you, because that is the furthest thing from the truth.”

“I kill people for money. Or I used to, anyway.”

“We are not getting into that conversation. You know where I stand; how I feel about what you do…what you DID. And you’re not going to change my mind But for the record? No. I’m not embarrassed of you. I have no reason to be. I didn’t do anything wrong: I knew exactly who you were and what you did and I went into things willingly. And I STAY in them willingly. I’m not trying to hide you, Tyler.”

“I never said…”

“I’m trying to protect you. And I know what you’re going to say; you’re a big boy and can take care of yourself and you don’t need little old me doing it for you.”

“You are just putting all kinds of words in my mouth tonight.”

“And I don’t mean PHYSICALLY protect you. I mean, look at me. I’m all of five feet tall and a hundred pounds soaking wet. I wouldn’t do much damage even if I tried.”

“I don’t know, it’s the little ones you usually need to watch out for. They’re cagey fuckers.”

“I’m talking about protecting you…US…from them. I know what my family is like. Especially my mother. She’s already on the warpath; talking all kinds of bullshit and trying to make you sound like some horrible, controlling and abusive person. She finds out the truth? She will make things worse.”

“I don’t give a fuck what she thinks about me. You should know that by now.”

“But I care. It hurts, alright? Hearing her talking about you like that. Because I know who you are. I know what you’ve been through and how you almost didn’t make it out the other side. And because I love you. Who wants to hear mean shit about the person they love?”

“I just think you need to take it with a grain of salt. I don’t want you getting worked up over it. I’m not the only one that’s been through it. In the past ten months. You shouldn't have to go through THIS, too.”

“If I tell her everything, she will make it her mission to tear us apart. She will do whatever she can to come between us. And I know you think I’m brave and strong and…”

“You are. You’re the strongest person I’ve ever known.”

“...maybe I am. Most of the time. But I’m tired. I don’t have it in me to fight right now. I am so tired, Tyler. Is it really so wrong that I can’t do it right now? That I just want a fucking break?”

“No.” Plucking the bowl out of her hand, he sets it on the counter, then gathers her into his arms. Hands continuously running up and down her back as her arms circle his waist and her head rests against him. “It’s not wrong at all.”

“I just want it to be US. At least for a little while.”

“As long as you need it to be, okay? No rush.”

“I just can’t do it. I can’t deal with her. Not right now.”

“You don’t have to. She calls back, I’ll answer. You don’t need to worry about her. I’ll take care of things.”

She looks up at him, tears spilling down her cheeks. “What did I do wrong?”

“What do you mean? What…?”

“To make her hate me like she does. What did I do? To deserve it?”

“You didn’t do a goddamn thing. The way she is? It’s not about you. It’s about her. She’s a bitter, nasty old woman. She’s dead inside. She doesn’t give a fuck about anyone but herself.”

“But she’s only like that with me. She’s never loved me. She never even wanted me. Why? What did I ever do? If she’d just told me, I could have fixed things. I could have been better. I could have…”

“Esme…” Cradling her face in his palms, his thumbs swipe at the tears that glisten on her cheeks. “...it’s not about you. It never has been. You didn’t do anything wrong. And you didn’t deserve it. You still don’t.”

“I’m tired. I am so tired.”

“I know.” He presses a kiss to her brow, then gathers her even tighter into his chest. “It’s time to rest now, okay? You’ve fought enough. You don’t need to do it anymore. I’ve got just enough in me to do it for both of us.”

“I just want it to be us. No one else. Just us.”

“It will be,” he assures her, feeling her body tremble against his as she openly sobs. “There’s nothing for you to worry about. She can’t hurt you anymore. No one can.”

****

“When you were little, what did you want to be when you grew up?”

They lay on the couch; caught up in a mess of naked limbs and tangled blankets. Basking in both the aftermath of their lovemaking and the warmth from the nearby fire.

His knuckles slide along the small of her back. “Where did that come from?”

“I know, totally random.” Esme laughs against the side of his neck. “Not the most romantic of pillow talk, huh?”

“And you say I’m terrible at it.”

“You talk about food and football and how long it’s going to take you to be ready to go again. Whispering sweet nothings is definitely NOT your forte.”

“Sweet nothings? Who are you trying to kid? You’re not into the shit. You like the absolute filth that comes out of my mouth. Don’t even try to deny it.”

“The filthier the better.” Spresses a series of kisses along his jaw, stopping at the corner of his mouth. “I don’t want you to change, though. I kinda like you the way you are. You’re perfect. At least for me, anyway.”

“Are you sure you’re not the one with the brain injury?”

“You’ll never see yourself the way I see you. I’ve relegated myself to that fact.” Rolling onto her stomach, she places her head on his chest. “I think talking to the wicked witch of the midwest brought some things up. About my childhood. And where I ended up compared to where I’d hoped I’d be.”

“Where DID you hope you’d be?”

“Not here, that’s for sure.”

“So but ass naked with a mercenary wasn’t high on your list of dream scenarios, I take it?”

“No. But that certainly turned out extremely well, didn’t it? Of all the things I have no complaints about, you’re at the top of the list. Well, I could do without your snoring and how you leave your dirty clothes in front of the hamper instead of putting them inside…”

“I’m working on it. I’ve lived alone for a long time. I haven’t had to worry about that kind of shit in a while.”

“As far as cohabiting goes, I’ve lived with A LOT worse. And you’re hot, so you tend to get away with a lot more than other mere mortals.”

“Yeah, you’re not hard to look at either. Which is why I don’t get on your case about squeezing the toothpaste tube in the middle. Or how you leave half-empty mugs of tea all over the goddamn place. That’s something I don’t get, actually.”

“What’s that?”

“How you always leave some behind when you make yourself a drink. But if I do it for you, you drink the whole thing. What’s up with that?”

“Because when you make it, it’s perfect. It tastes just right. Way better than when I do it myself.”

“I think that’s all in your head. How different could it be? It’s boiled water and a tea bag. A bit of milk.”

“I can’t explain it, alright. It’s just the way it is. It’s just so much better.”

“You know what I think? I think you’re spoiled. Or you like to be, anyway. All that independent woman stuff? That whole ‘I don’t need any man’ thing? I think deep down it’s all an act. That you like being taken care of. Probably because no one has ever done it.”

“Is that so wrong?” Raising her head from his chest, she smiles as he pushes a hand through her hair. Fingers slipping through the long, dark tresses; calloused tips brushing against the nape of her neck before travelling down the length of her spine. “If I DO like it?”

“Nothing wrong with it at all. I just wish I was better at it. Not really my strength, you know? Taking care of other people.”

“I don’t think you give yourself enough credit.”

“I think you give me too much. That, and my past kind of speaks for itself.”

“You’re not exactly the guy you were back then.”

“Maybe not. But I’m not even the guy I was when I met you. At least not physically. I can’t take care of you and protect you the way I could nine months ago.”

“Nine months ago, you were clinically dead. I think you’re allowed to be a little rusty. Besides, if you had to? If there was some kind of threat? If I was in danger? You’d find a way to protect me. Nothing would stop you. Not even a bad shoulder or a bum leg. It’s one thing I never worry about when I’m with you. If I’m safe or not.”

“I may not have all the right words, and I may not know how to handle things sometimes, but there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you, Esme. To make you happy. Keep you safe. Even with my fucked up head. And body.”

“You’ve come a long way. In less than a year. And you’re not broken, Tyler. Mentally or physically. A little banged up and dented and tarnished, maybe. But not broken.”

“You have this uncanny ability of always seeing the best in people. Whether anything good exists in them or not.”

“A lot of good exists inside of you. I’ve never doubted that. I’ve always seen it. It was in your eyes; I saw it the second Nik introduced us. You had this kindness in them. This humanity. This sadness. You were carrying around all this baggage and all this pain, but it was still there. You weren’t like anyone I’d ever met on the job. In many ways.”

“Admit it, you were just thankful you didn’t end up having to be pretend married to some ugly, miserable old fuck,”

“Well, you certainly aren’t ugly. Or old.”

Tyler smirks. “You smart ass.”

“Before I met you, I’d never felt protected. Safe. I didn’t even realize I wanted…or needed… to feel those things.”

“I’m just sorry that everyone in your life has been such a fucking disappointment. Especially that dick head ex-husband of yours.”

“Falling for his bullshit was one of the biggest mistakes I’ve ever made. The only thing bigger? Staying with him. I always told myself I’d never be that type of woman; someone who would just roll over and take the abuse and hold onto this faint hope that I could change him. Talk about being a judgy bitch, huh? I never understood why women stuck around. How could they be so weak and pathetic? Why would they just sit back and ‘take it’? And then it happened to me and I realized it wasn’t easy. It wasn’t as simple as just walking away.”

“There’s nothing weak or pathetic about you. I learned that quickly. IN Dhaka. Never mind everything you put up with afterwards.”

“The saddest part of it all is that I started to believe every word that came out of his mouth. That he was the best I could do. I was lucky to have someone like him; he kept a roof over my head, food on the table, and clothes on my back. Even if I didn’t deserve those things. He always called it tough love; the beatings and the verbal abuse helped ‘toughen me up’. I was too sensitive. Too soft. Especially for someone who’d been in the Corps. He used to say I must have ‘slept my way’ through the system.”

“You know, the more you talk about him, the more homicidal I become.”

“As much as I appreciate you wanting to defend my honour and rip him from limb to limb, it’s not why I bring him up. I don’t do it to piss you off; I do it so you’ll know more about me. We didn’t get much time for that kind of thing, you know? We were only in Dhaka for five days and then you were unconscious for half a year after that. We didn’t get much of a chance, did we? To learn about one another.”

“Yeah, we have been sort of thrown to the wolves, haven’t we? Not that I’m complaining. It hasn’t been that bad.”

“Hasn’t been that bad, huh?” She laughs, and tugs playfully at one of his ears. “I know you’re just speaking for yourself when you say that. Because I swear, living with you sometimes…”

Grinning he brings a hand down on her ass in a playful slap, then lightly pinches the supple skin. “Why are you mean to me all the time? Why do you tease me so much?”

“Because it’s fun. And it’s not being mean, I promise, everything I say? I say out of love. And pure animalistic lust.”

“That’s my favourite kind.” His free hand gently gathers up her hair. Moving it away from her face and off her shoulder; palm smoothing down it as it lays on her back. The smile quickly fading, his eyes darkening. “You know it wasn’t your fault, yeah? All the things he said. The things he did. You didn’t deserve any of it.”

“I’m starting to realize that. It’s taking a lot longer than I thought; coming to terms with just how awful he was and what I allowed him to get away with. I thought it would be easier; I’d just be able to put it behind me as soon as I got away from him.”

“You need to stop blaming yourself. You didn’t do anything wrong. It was never about you, Esme. It was always about him.”

“When I finally left, I told myself I’d stay single forever. It just wasn’t worth putting myself out there; having to explain my past and defend the choices I made. And forget about trusting someone; every person I’d ever had any faith in turned out to be nothing but a fucking disappointment. How do you get close to someone after going through all that? How do you ever feel comfortable with anyone again? Let them even get remotely close?”

“Something must have went wrong, huh?” He chides, and tugs on a strand of her hair. ‘Cause here we are.”

“Before you, the only thing I ever knew…or thought I knew…about love was that it hurt. It was painful; physically AND mentally. Everyone I’d loved…who had claimed to love ME...destroyed me.”

“No. They didn’t. Because if you did, we wouldn’t be here right now. Talking about this. You wouldn’t have even looked at me twice, let alone given me a chance. They didn’t destroy you, Esme. They tried. But it didn’t work.”

“Everything changed when you came along. I changed. All those things Mark said to me? About how no one would ever want me? That I was too difficult to love and didn’t deserve to be? It took you less than a week to prove him wrong.”

“Don’t make me out to be some kind of prize, okay? I’ve got my own issues. Maybe not nearly as bad as his, but…”

“You never hid them from me, though. And you never used them to hurt me. You made me feel beautiful. You looked at me like I was the most incredible woman on earth. And that was only four days into things.”

“To me you were, You ARE.”

“You’re not the monster you think you are, Tyler. You’re a good man who has been through some bad shit. Who’s had to do some questionable things out of self-perseverance. And yeah, maybe you have made some bad decisions. But believe me, even with all your baggage? The drinking and the pain meds? You are nowhere near being like Mark.”

“I’m trying. I don’t want to be a mess forever. You deserve better than that.”

“For what it’s worth, you’re not as messy as you were. I think nearly dying had something to do with that; hard to be an alcoholic and a junkie when you’re in a coma for seven months.”

“I think rehab would have been slightly less painful. Than taking a bullet to the throat.”

“How quickly you forget the seven others they pulled from you.”

“Trust me, my body reminds me every day. The only thing I really hate? About how it went down? The fact that you had to see all of that. That you had to see me completely fucked up.”

“It wasn’t your fault. You didn’t know how bad things would go. And yeah, it’s going to stay with me. For quite a while. But I’ll deal. I’ll just take it one day at a time.”

“You know you don’t have to do that alone, yeah? Deal with it?”

Smiling, she presses a chaste kiss to his lips. “I know.”

Gathering up the edges of one of the blankets, she pulls it further up their naked bodies; tucking it under her chin as she once more lays her head upon his shoulder. Her breath is warm and sweet against the side of his neck as his fingers continuously glide up and down her spine; her own tracing the tattoo on his right rib cage and repeatedly combing through his longer strands of hair. He enjoys the closeness in a way he never had before; failing to remember the last time anyone had made him feel that relaxed and comfortable. This beautiful, impossibly tiny woman somehow his refuge. The one person that makes HIM feel safe and secure.

“You never did answer my question.”

He turns his face into hers, lips meeting her brow. “I forgot what it was.”

“When you were a little boy, what did you want to be when you grew up?”

“You mean other than as far away from my old man as possible?”

“What kind of things did you dream about? What did you hope to be doing as an adult?”

“I had a couple of things that were pretty far-fetched. Although when I was little, nothing seemed impossible.”

“What were they?”

“I wanted to be a professional surfer. Or a pro football player.”

“Honestly, I’m not surprised with either of those choices. You wanted to play for the Western Bulldogs, didn’t you.”

“Guilty as charged. They’ve always been my favourite. Which is weird, considering I was born and raised in the East. Once I got a bit older, I started thinking more realistically about things. Decided I wanted to be a firefighter. Or a cop.”

“Really?”

“You sound surprised.”

“I just can’t see you as a cop. I don’t know why. Definitely a firefighter, though. You’d look so hot in turn-out gear.”

“I didn’t think that kind of thing would turn you on. Not with your brother being one..”

“My brother is…I don’t know…my brother. Totally not in the same league as you. How come you never went in that direction? You would have passed all the training; you were athletic, you had the size, the strength. What made you choose the military?”

“My graduating year, they had one of those ‘career days’. You know where people from all different lines of work come and peddle what they do and try to drum up interest. There was a recruiter from the army there and I’m sure you know what they’re like; fatigues, boots all polished, overly cheerful and optimistic.”

“I was offered that job once. When I first joined the Corps. I was told it was a better choice for me; it suited my personality better.”

“What did you tell them? To go fuck themselves?”

“Basically, yeah.”

“I bet you were underestimated right from the day you were born.”

“I’ve always been a study in contraction. People expect meek and mild. I know you did.”

“I did. And man, did I ever find out the hard way. You didn’t waste your time telling me to get fucked.”

“And not in the fun, sexy way, either.”

“Nope. That came a few days later.”

She laughs against the side of his neck, then places a line of kisses along his jaw. “And when it did, it was very fun and very, very, VERY sexy.”

“I have no complaints.”

“So…” Lifting her head from its resting place, she uses two fingertips to clear strands of hair from his brow. “...this recruiter…”

“You’re nothing if not persistent.”

“I like to know things. About you. And I want to know ALL of them. All the things.”

“This guy knew how to sell things. He made it sound so awesome. I’d get to play with guns, learn how to drive a tank, jump out of airplanes. They’d even pay for it if I wanted to further my education; become an engineer or an instructor or just make my way up the food chain and be an officer.”

“Would you have wanted to be one? An officer?”

“I don’t think so. Being out there breaking a sweat and getting my hands dirty was always my thing. The idea of wearing a uniform, sitting behind a desk and getting old and fat doesn’t do it for me, you know? But you know what really sold it? I’d get to see the world. Travel to different places. On their dime.”

“Yeah, even in the States they try hard to sell that side of things.”

“I hadn’t even turned eighteen yet. I was desperate to escape; I wanted to be as far away from my dad as possible and being in the army made the most sense. But I was young and dumb; I never stopped to think that ‘seeing the world’ really meant going into war-torn places; displacing people even more, killing them, even.”

“That’s not ALL you did. You helped more people than you hurt. That’s something I’m sure of.”

“Isn’t helping what hurts them most of the time?”

“It’s easy to see it that way, I guess. Sometimes the road to helping others isn’t a pretty one. And war is ugly; you and I have seen that firsthand. But isn’t it sometimes beautiful, too? When the means lead to an incredible end? When you see just how much you’ve helped someone? How better their life becomes simply because you showed up in it?”

“I don’t know how you do it. See things…people…the way you do.”

“I learned a long time ago that if I didn’t find the good in everything and everyone, I wasn’t going to survive. Not mentally, anyway. I was there too; in the Middle East. And we may not have had the same job and the same responsibilities, but I saw just how awful things were. I heard the horror stories.”

“You of all people didn’t deserve to be there. Going through all that.”

“But I chose it. The poor people that lived there didn’t. And you know what? it’s so much easier to remember the bad stuff. One horrible thing can wipe out a hundred good things.”

“Every so often, that psychology degree of yours comes out to play.”

“It’s less what I learned in school and more I learned OUT of it. Not to mention PTSD is a monster. Sometimes it makes it pretty hard to see the good in anything.”

“Is there you start psychoanalyzing me? Do you charge by the hour or…?”

“It’s just the truth, unfortunately. And you DO have PTSD.”

“I’m not the only one in this room…this bed…that does.”

“Maybe…” (trails a nail along the length of his jaw, over the scar that mars the bottom of his chin). “...but you’re the only one officially diagnosed, so…”

He doesn’t push it; knowing she’s not in the right ‘headspace’ to confront her demons. That choosing to focus on his healing and his battles effectively -for now- silences and numbs her own.

“What about you?” His hand moves through her hair; dark, silky tresses slipping easily through his fingers, palm coming to rest in the middle of her back.

“What about me?”

“What were you like? When you were a little girl? Not that you ever grew… physically…past twelve.” Grinning, he places a kiss on her brow when she laughs. “What did a young Esme dream about? What did she want to be?”

“God, so many different things. I always had these lofty, little girl dreams; wild and crazy things that would never come true. Like marrying a Crown Prince or becoming a famous actress and winning a record number of Oscars. I even used to practice my acceptance speeches in the bathroom mirror. Or I’d write the next great American novel; it would top the charts around the world and I’d win a Pulitzer. I even once thought I’d invent a cure for cancer and win a Nobel.”

“I’m sure a couple of those weren’t too far out of reach. You could find a cure for cancer. Or write a novel. You’re still young.”

“The craziest thing I ever wanted to be? A fighter pilot. A female Maverick from Top Gun.”

“Now that I CAN’T see.”

“Once I realized I needed to concentrate on something a tad more realistic, I switched to teaching and nursing. I would have loved to have gotten into pediatrics. Or taught kindergarten kids. Catch them when they’re still so innocent and curious and so in love with the world and everyone in it.”

“You’d be amazing at both of those. I can see why kids would love you.”

“Why? Because I’m just as small as they are?”

“Well, THAT. But just the way you are. WHO you are. You see the good in the world. Everything you’ve been through…the things you’ve seen and heard and even DONE…you still find beauty in everything. Not to mention you have the patience of a saint, Look how long you’ve stuck around. Put up with my shit.”

“You’re not as difficult as you think you are.”

“But I AM difficult.”

“You have your moments.” She kisses him; signing into his mouth when he tangles his fingers in her hair and pulls her tighter against him.

“You know, you could still do one of those things. Teach or be a nurse. You’ve got a lot of years ahead of you still.”

“I’m going to have to figure out something. I can’t sit on my ass for the rest of my life.”

“It’s not like there’s a rush. We’re not exactly poor. We’re not going to run out of money anytime soon. And if you wanted to go back and work for Nik…”

“No. HELL NO. That ship has long sailed. You’re not the only one that’s retired. You know what I really want to do right now? Until it’s no longer financially possible or we drive each other crazy? Whichever comes first?”

“What’s that?”

“Just…live. With you. And without having to worry about what comes next. “ She once more settles her head on his chest; a hand on his shoulder, thumb continuously brushing against the Roman numeral tattoo that decorates the skin. “Do you want to know what I REALLY wanted to? When I was growing up? Something I still think about from time to time?”

“Of course I want to know.”

“I wanted to own a bookstore.”

“You know for some reason, that makes total sense with you.”

“I kept a journal for the longest time. Completely dedicated to the dream. I’d write down all my ideas, and even sketch things out. I had it all planned out. It would have snow-white walls, but I’d fill the place with tons of colourful furniture and decor and have neighbourhood kids submit artwork I’d frame and hang. And I have dedicated spaces for people to hang out; chess tables, comfy chairs to settle down and read a book in, a courtyard out back if they wanted fresh air. I’d even have drinks and treats. Coffee, tea, and juices, muffins and cookies and sandwiches.”

“Sounds like a pretty awesome place.”

“I’d have a dedicated kids' space; everything in primary colours, a little play area and craft station, a small party room where they could celebrate their birthday. There’d be fish tanks; a couple for turtles, even. And some cages for birds and a few hamsters. And there’d be a bookstore cat.”

“You had all this planned out?”

Esme nods enthusiastically. “I even had the name picked. Do you want to hear it?”

“You should know by now that you don’t need to ask if I want to hear things.”

“I wanted to call it Turn the Page.”

(smiling, he uses two fingers to loop strands of hair behind her ears) “That’s perfect. And you sometimes still think about it? Owning a place like that?”

“Sometimes. We all hold on to some little dream, don’t we? Something from our childhood that can’t seem to let go of?”

“I mean, it’s not like it’s impossible. If it’s something you really want to do…”

“It’s just a little something I like to think about from time to time. That dream of mine got me through some pretty rough shit growing up. I always could escape to it; when my mom was being extra horrible.”

“Would you WANT to do it? Is it something that would make you happy? Having your bookstore?”

“Right now, I have all I need to make me happy. All I want to concentrate on? Is you. Us.”

Pecking his ips, then moves onto her side; her back pressed against the rear cushions of the sofa, face nestled in the crook of his neck, Their eyes closed as his fingers continuously graze up and down her spine and they listen to the crackling of the fire and winter storm raging outside; the howling of the wind and the rattling of the windows and the patter of ice against the glass.

She yawns noisily, then rubs her cheek against him) “I love you, you know.”

“I know. And I love you. More than you’ll ever know.” He drops a kiss on the top of her head. “You make me want to be a better man.”

S raises her head to look at him, tears sparkling in her eyes. “What?”

“You do. I want to be better for you. I want to be the kind of man YOU want. That you can be proud of.”

“I DO want you. And I AM proud of you.”

“But I want it to stay that way. I don’t want to go back to who I was. I want to be better. Do better. Be what you need. And deserve. Hey….” (gives an awkward chuckle when the tears escape, quickly using his fingertips to swipe them off her cheeks) “...don’t do that. Don’t cry. I hate when you cry.”

“I think that’s the most beautiful thing anyone has ever said to me. It’s the best compliment I’ve EVER gotten.”

“It’s all true. It’s the way you make me feel. Not just wanting to BE better, but knowing I can get there.”

She kisses him; long and sweet and sweet; nuzzling her nose against his cheek and his ears and whispering words of adoring and affection that no one has ever bestowed upon him. And she once more tucks herself into his side; tighter than before, wanting, needing, and enjoying the protection only he can provide. Finding herself quickly lulled to sleep by his steady, rhythmic breathing, the stroking of her hair, and the warmth of his skin against hers.

[chickensarentcheap]

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.

[chickensarentcheap]

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.”

[chickensarentcheap]

In a Heartbeat- Chapter Five

Fandom: Extraction

PAIRING: TYLER RAKE AND ESME DRUMMOND (ESTABLISHED OFC)

SUMMARY:  Dhaka nearly ended everything before it even began.  In it’s aftermath and with Tyler’s life teetering on the threshold between life and death, Esme is about to realize just how strong she can be.  And that love happens when it happens. There’s no rules. No rhyme or reason. No timeline.  

Warnings: brief mention of sex toys and kinks (butt plugs, dildos, pegging. But not in the way you think lol)

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

Link to Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/48691714/chapters/129441475

My tag list is OPEN. Please just ask to be added if you'd like :D

****

“Okay…” Slipping off his coat, Tyler surveys his surroundings, greeting a waiting and ecstatic Lucy with a vigorous rub of the head. “...now it’s all starting to make sense.”

Esme sets both the wheeled suitcase and duffle bag by the door, then drops her hobo-style handbag on the kitchen table. “What’s making sense?”

“Why none of those pictures from the ‘net showed the inside of this place.”

Shrugging out of her jacket, she removes her beanie and tosses both aside; shaking out her long, dark tresses before placing her hands on her hips and surveying their surroundings. “It’s not THAT bad. It’s quaint. Cozy. Cute.”

“You realize that’s wood panelling on the walls, yeah?”

“Okay, so it kind of reminds me of my grandparents’ basement. Which they haven’t remodelled since the early seventies. But I’ve seen worse. I’ve LIVED in worse.”

“Is this where you tell me about your time in some rat-infested dump in New York City?”

“New York isn’t as horrible as you make it out to be. I would have given up an organ, even a limb, to land something right in the city. A walk-up apartment in an old brownstone. That was always my dream. To have a cute little place like Carrie Bradshaw’s.”

“Who?”

“Carrie Bradshaw. The main character in Sex and the City? Played by Sarah Jessica Parker? She’s married to Matthew Broderick? You know, the guy who was Ferris Bueller?”

“I have no goddamn clue who any of these people are.”

“You’ve never heard of Sex and the City? Have you been living in a cave? Cooking over an open fire? Throwing random women over your shoulder and carrying them back for sexy time?”

Smirking, he removes his beanie. “That’s how I landed you, wasn’t it?”

“You landed me with your pretty blue eyes and your sexy voice and your big dick.”

“You’re nothing if not honest.”

“Carrie is a writer,” Esme continues, holding the back of a kitchen chair to keep it steady as he lowers himself into it. “She writes about relationships and sex and life in the Big Apple. And she’s got her little posse; Miranda, the fiercely independent lawyer, Charlotte the die-hard romantic, longing to find true love, Samantha the big-time slut who loves men just a little too much. She was my favourite, by the way.”

“Makes sense. What’s that saying? Something about birds of a feather flocking together?”

She scowls. “Well, that’s just plain rude.”

“If you ask me, the show sounds like it’s for girls.”

“Plenty of men loved it. Mostly gay men, but…” Retreating to the middle of the living room, she places a hand on her hip, eyes narrowing as she taps the tip of her index against her lips.. “...I see the potential here. It’s not a lost cause. And it’s definitely not hideous. It’s just…”

“It’s ugly, and you know it.”

“Dated. It’s dated.”

“It’s not a person. You can say what you really feel. You can’t hurt its feelings.”

“I thought you, of all people, would love something like this. This is a five-star resort compared to where you were living when I met you.”

“I’ll have you know that I built that place myself. By hand.”

“And I’m extremely proud of you, and I find it very sexy when a man is great with his hands. In all the best possible ways. But babe, you had no interior walls, most of your windows didn’t close properly, and you had chickens as roommates. Believe me, this is a step up.”

“So what you’re saying is that it’s a ‘no’ to chickens in the house. Kinda ruins my plans.”

“As much as I’d rather NOT be constantly picking up their shit, I’ll deal. Only because I know how much you love the mangey little bastards. But they are NOT sleeping in bed with us.”

“What about night’s you’re not here?”

“It’s unlikely we’ll encounter nights like those, but IF it happens? You better make sure you change the damn sheets before I get home. You totally slept with your chickens before you met me, didn’t you. You totally let them in the bed.”

“Once in a while.”

“So which one of you was the little spoon? Or did you alternate every second night?”

“Has anyone ever told you that you have a really smart mouth?”

“No. But I have been told how extremely talented it is.”

“That I CAN’T argue with. I definitely have no complaints.”

“Even if you did, I wouldn’t listen to them. So…” Tugging playfully on his ears, she lays a hand on the nape of his neck and steps around to the side of the chair. “...what do you think? About this place? I know it isn’t as bougie as you’re used to, but…”

Reaching under the bottom of her shirt, he hooks a finger in one of the belt loops on her jeans and pulls her down onto his left thigh. “It’s tolerable. For now.” Pressing a kiss to her shoulder, his hand moves to her stomach, calloused palm flat against warm, smooth skin. “Until we’re able to get around to doing stuff.”

“Nik says it’s all ours. We can do whatever we want with it. I know it’s not going to be a permanent place for us, but…”

“I mean, it could be. If that’s what you wanted.”

“I just assumed you’d want to go home. That we’d end up in Australia.”

“We can end up wherever you want. I have no ties to ANY place. Just say where you want to go, and that’s where we’ll head.”

“It’s definitely something we’ll have to talk about. I can’t really decide something like THAT all on my own. You need to have a say in it, too. It’s not just me that deserves to be happy.”

“I’m happy as long as you are. Just say where you want to go. We’ll go.”

“As cute and sappy as that is…”

“You did NOT just use the c and the s word to describe me. In the SAME sentence.”

“...we both know it doesn’t work that way. That if you just follow me somewhere with no say, things would not end well. So we’ll talk about it. When we’re ready to make a decision like that. Sound good?”

“Whatever you say.”

“Goddamn, you’re difficult.”

“I thought I was being pretty easy and reasonable. What more do you want from me?”

“We both need to do a lot of work when it comes to being in a relationship.”

“Please don’t suggest therapy. I’ve had enough therapy in the past two months to last me a lifetime.”

“No therapy. I might get you to read some self-help books or listen to some podcasts…”

“Get off me.”

“That’s a request you usually don’t make,” she quips, then laughs and tightens her hold on him when he attempts to push her off his lap. “Baby, you’re so cute. Even when you’re being a grumpy shit.”

He smirks. “Fuck off, Esme.”

“You need a nap.” Placing a kiss on his temple, she affectionately tousles his hair and stands. “Or something to eat. Maybe both. Are you hangry, Tyler James? Are you hangry and sweepy?”

“Yes.”

“I’m just going to take a quick look around and then make us something to eat. And you’ve got meds to take. You’re due.”

“I’m fine.”

“You know what the doctor said. About making sure you keep on schedule. If you don’t do that…”

“The pain will really set in, and it’ll be harder to get rid of it. I was there. I heard him.”

“Then quit being so difficult. You don’t need to be an insufferable asshole twenty-four-seven.”

“Yes, I do. I have a reputation to keep.”

“Believe me, your reputation isn’t going anywhere. Not everyone can survive what you did. I think you cemented your legend status.”

“By the way, how does that make you feel about things?”

She pauses in the doorway of the spare bedroom. “What things?”

“Life, in general. Knowing you’re spending your life fucking a legend.”

“Well, I wouldn’t know, would I? Considering I haven’t fucked him since he got the title.”

With a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth, he snatches the discarded beanie from the middle of the table. “You can be a real bitch, you know that?”

“Now THAT I do know.” She laughs as she effortlessly dodges the hat thrown in her direction. “Give me a few minutes, and then I’ll make something to eat. You won’t starve in the meantime.”

“You’re actually going to subject me to your cooking the first day in?”

Scowling, she disappears into the second bedroom. Several seconds passing before just her hand appears in the doorway in order to flip him the middle finger.

His fingers alternate between slipping through Lucy’s short, smooth fur and scratching her favourite spot directly under her chin. Listening as Esme’s feet -clad in thick, mismatched woollen socks move over the weathered and creaking floorboards. Hearing intermittent soft clicking and the sliding of wood against wood as she inspects dresser and nightstand drawers. And when it finally falls silent, he calls out to her. “Anything interesting?”

“Whoever lived here before us were total freaks! I just found a whole load of gigantic dildos in the bedside table! And one of those harnesses a woman wears. You know, when she does her man up the…”

“Esme…”

“I don’t see any lube though. I guess we’re not trying pegging tonight.”

“Don’t even THINK about it.”

“What would you say if I came to bed and had a butt plug in with a raccoon’s tail hanging off it?”

“I’d call you a freak and kick you out onto the couch.”

She gives a disgruntled, dramatic huff, then appears in the doorway. “You’re boring.”

“You certainly weren’t saying that two nights ago when we almost got caught by the night nurse. While you were giving me…”

“Like, no pegging with giant dildos and no raccoon tail butt plugs? I swear, a girl can’t have ANY fun.”

“If that’s your idea of fun, you’ve got the wrong guy.”

“Don’t worry, big boy.” She shoots him a wink as she pads through the small, open-concept living room and kitchen. “There’s nothing to be scared of. I’ll be gentle with you.”

“You even come near me with one of those things…”

“I was joking. I didn’t find a damn thing. Which is incredibly disappointing. I was hoping some eccentric weirdo lived here before and left some wild shit behind.”

“Have you looked around this place? The panelling? Fucking knick-knacks all over the place? A goddamn deer head on the wall? Does any of that scream eccentric weirdo do you?”

“It could have been to throw off visitors. Convince innocent, unsuspecting people that they were completely normal. You know, so they could drug their coffee and tea in order to knock them out and hide them in their sex dungeon!”

“I think it’s safe to say that no one normal lives here NOW. Well, one of us might be considered somewhat sane.”

“Don’t worry. Your secret's safe with me. I won’t tell anyone you’re a psycho.”

She opens the door to the main bathroom and pokes her head inside. Fingernails tapping against the wall as she makes approving noises and comments about the brand new shower, tub, sink, and toilet. Then proceeds to curse and grumble about having to DEFINITELY change the flooring and the colour of the walls.

“I think we both know I’m the only somewhat normal one around here.”

“You keep telling yourself that.” She moves to the master bedroom, mere seconds passing before she gives a loud gasp. “Oh my god….TYLER!”

“Let me guess, you found the sex dungeon.”

“Even better!” She appears in the doorway, eyes sparkling and dancing as she gives an excited squeal and bounces up and down on her heels. “It’s bigger than I expected!”

“Didn’t you say those exact words in Dhaka? The first time I dropped my pants?”

“I was pleasantly surprised. That you exceeded even MY lofty expectations.”

“What did you find? I swear if it’s anything remotely related to me taking something up the ass…”

“Nothing like that! You need to see it! It’s enormous!”

“You don’t have another guy stashed in there, do you?”

“I can barely handle the one I already have. Why would I want the extra stress? Seriously, come and see this.”

“I know what a bedroom looks like.”

“It’s not just the room that’s bigger and better than I thought it would be! It’s the bed! It takes up so much space, and there’s still lots of room to spare. Please just come and take a look? Because I asked so nicely? Pretty please? I know how much you love to make me happy.”

“For someone so tiny, you’re an enormous pain in my ass,” he grumbles, yet shoots her a wink. A hand on the table top as he slowly pushes himself up onto his feet; fighting back a wince as even the most careful of movements bring almost unbearable agony. Too much time spent on his ass during the flight and the long drive from Vienna to the cabin; his knee feeling tight and swollen and in desperate need of relief.

“As soon as we eat, you put your leg up,” Esme informs him, as he joins her in the doorway. “It’s not good to go this long without elevating it. And you WILL take your meds.”

“While I’d normally argue with you and tell you I’m fine…”

“That’s how I know it’s bad. You’re NOT giving me a hard time.”

“I’ll be okay. Just he assures her, and places a hand on the back of her neck, his lips meeting her temple as his fingers massage the stiff, tight muscles. “Just need to rest it.”

For months she’s held onto an enormous amount of stress and tension; those long, trying days and nights spent at his bedside, fighting back against the doctors who had already declared him a lost cause and wanted to just pull the plug. But she’d held on there despite the pressure dumped upon her, digging her heels in even further and refusing to break to their demands. They weren’t using him as a sacrifice to the healthcare system Gods; they’d have to find another way to ‘free up a bed’.

“She’s going to break sooner or later,” Nik had warned him just days before his release. “She’s been shouldering all of this for three quarters of a year. I’ve been around some very tough people, but none as tough as THAT. She can’t keep it up, Tyler. She just can’t. We all break at one point or another. And when her time comes, you’re going to have to be there for her. Because she’ll need you. So you better be sure that you’ll step up.”

One of her tiny hands falls on the small of his back as he sticks his head into the master. “What do you think? It’s huge, right?”

“Definitely bigger than I expected. The room AND the bed.”

She playfully smacks his ass, grinning up at him as she tightly squeezes a cheek through the fabric of his pants. “You know how much I love a large playground.”

“Speaking of playtime, when do I get my surprise?”

“Patience is a virtue, old fella.”

“For who?”

“The virtuous, I guess. Besides, I thought you were hungry. And tired. And sore.”

“I am. I’m all three of those. But…” He hastily removes the sling from his left arm, tearing open the velcro fasteners and tossing the object onto the dresser. Not giving her a chance to respond, he grabs hold of her hips and uses his much larger, heavier frame to propel her backwards into the room.

“We’re really going to give it a go, are we? Right this second?”

“No time like the present. I’ve been wanting to give it a go since we left the hospital. Even BEFORE that. I was going to say something on the plane; about joining the mile-high club, but…”

“Been there, done that.”

He frowns, pausing as he leans in to kiss her, their lips a hair’s width apart.

“You’re not the only one with a past, Tyler Rake.”

“Did he teach you anything good?”

“He taught me a few things.” Her hands slide up the front of his henley shirt, chestnut eyes locked on brilliant blue as she softly drags the nails of her index across his stomach. Beginning their lazy journey at his belt buckle and finally finishing at each of his hips. “Who do you think is responsible for this mouth being so talented?”

“As much as I hate even thinking about you with other guys, I want his name and address. So I can send him a thank you card. And a case of beer. You know, just a small token of gratitude.”

“And seeing as he didn’t give a shit about what I needed to feel good, I figured I’d let you teach me the rest.”

“I’m honoured.”

“You should be. I’ve already let you go where no man has ever dared to go before.”

“Only because you asked me if I would. Can’t believe it only took two days.”

“What can I say…” She catches him off guard by pushing him backwards, pinning him between her body and the dresser as she aggressively yanks open his belt. “...you have that effect on me.”

“I realize I’m still hurting, and I got a long way to go, but don’t think for a second you get to be the boss. It doesn’t work that way.”

“Who are you kidding?” She pops open the button on his pants. “I’m always the boss.”

Smirking, he snatches her by the throat, fingers lightly pressing into the soft, delicate flesh as he pushes her towards the bed. And she gives a gasp of surprise when the back of her knees hit the edge of the mattress, giggling when she loses her balance and topples backwards.

She pushes herself up onto her elbows. a slow grin spreading from ear to ear as she watches him quickly dispose of both knee brace and pants and hastily toss them into the nearest corner. “No underwear, huh? You WERE hopeful.”

“Easy access. For both of us.”

“Even in this weather. I’m surprised your balls didn’t freeze off. That would have been a goddamn Greek tragedy.”

“They’re still a little. If you can warm them up. It’ll keep you quiet for a while.”

“Kinky.” She laughs when he grabs hold of the bottom of her jeans; falling backward when he aggressively pulls her towards him. “You ARE eager.”

“Things are working. You said yourself, it’s been hit or miss. Well, right now it's a hit, so…” He yanks both the denim and her skimpy lace underwear over her hips and ass and down her legs. “...let’s not waste time. Just in case.”

“Aren’t you even going to wait? For me to get your surprise on?”

“Nope.” He shoves her thighs open. “Right now, I don’t care. We’ll do that later.”

“Two times in one day? Someone is feeling awful cocky.”

“It’s my cock that’s feeling something. Don’t worry, you’ll be feeling it soon too.”

She opens her mouth to respond but quickly bites down on the bottom lip as he makes his way up her body; a mixture of calloused palms, the roughness of his beard, and the press of warm, soft lips. Thick fingers -with their various scars and misshapen knuckles- digging into the back of her thighs as he licks, sucks, and nibbles his way along the insides of her legs. And though disappointed when he ignores the most desperate and aching of parts, she still manages a giggle when he pulls her surgical steel navel ring into his mouth and lightly yanks at it with his teeth.

No one has ever worshipped her the way he does. The attention and focus he displays while paying homage to her body; the fire in her very bones and nerves growing in intensity with every swipe of his tongue and suckle of his lips and every caress and group of her hands. Selfless and never selfish, even when his own wants and needs are profound and overwhelming. Forever paying keen attention to the way she responds to him. Learning through every sigh and moan, every flinch and shiver, the differences in tone and pitch when she says his name. And somehow always knowing exactly what she needs.

By the time he reaches her lips, she’s desperate for so much more, nails raking across his shoulders and down his back, hips continuously rising to meet his in an unspoken request. When he finally kisses her, she moans into his mouth, and her hands find his hair; her fingers immediately tunnelling through the longer strands as she responds eagerly and hungrily. But when he pulls away to look down at her, there’s a tenderness in his eyes that she isn’t prepared for. An affection and adoration that softens his features and enables her to truly ‘see’ him for the first time. And suddenly, he seems far removed from the hardened and highly skilled mercenary that she had initially fallen in love with. Instead replaced by a previously broken and haunted man who’s in the midst of the most important transformation of his entire life.

The healing of both body AND mind.

“I love you.”

It brings tears to her eyes. The sincerity in those three simple, yet powerful words.

“More than you’ll ever know.”

The sob escapes her before she has the chance to bite it back, and she quickly finds herself gathered into strong arms and a broad chest. His body is warm and hard against hers, and his hands are steady yet comforting as they lovingly stroke her hair and repeatedly caress her back.

It’s all so foreign and overwhelming. Completely unlike anything she’s ever known or experienced. He’s reliable. Protective. Making her feel safe and secure in ways no one else ever has.

And in that moment, she’s sure of one thing. She’s never been loved like this, either.

*****

He feels sleepy and content as he lounges on the couch; his bad leg -once more sporting the knee brace- stretched out, foot resting on the coffee table. Both body and mind sated by a successful -if not disappointingly short- love making session that ended up more slow and tender than he’d originally anticipated. It had been followed by a hot shower and a surprisingly good meal that Esme had been incredibly proud of; a simple pasta and meat sauce dish paired with salad and garlic toast. Now he alternates between watching football and listening to his girlfriend as she busies herself in the kitchen. Lucy refusing to leave her side; more than pleased with the morsels of food she’d been slipped under the table. And with the seemingly endless amount of ear rubs and hair ruffles and chin scratches that are passed her way.

It’s the most relaxed he’s been in years. The warmth of the fire as snow trickles down outside, the rattling of dishes and silverware, and the way Esme alternates between humming as she works and talking to Lucy in a quiet, motherly way. The fear is starting to fade; the realization setting in that not only this is his life now, but he’s good with it. Not entirely accepting of the fact he’s retired; remaining somewhat concerned about where he goes -professional speaking- from here. But he feels safe and secure in the knowledge that knowing that Esme is under the same roof. Wanting and needing him. Loving him.

“I don’t have anything else, my love,” Esme addresses the dog sprawled out at her feet. “At least none of what you really want. Do you want a cookie? Auntie Nik got them just for you. I bet they’re delicious. Let’s get you a cookie.”

Out of the corner of his eyes, he sees her move across the room, her hair still loose and flowing and nearly reaching the middle of her back. Her tiny frame clad in a pair of simple black leggings and one of the plaid shirts she’d poached from his side of the closet. And he finds himself amused by the way she has to stand on her tiptoes to get the container of dog biscuits off the second shelf in the cupboard.

“Tyler…”

“Yeah?”

“This d…o…g won’t stop eating.”

“Why did you spell that out?”

“Because I don’t want her to know I’m talking about her. It might give her a complex.”

“Your logic is…astounding.”

“Even animals have feelings. I mean, you’re the biggest one of all, and you’ve been all up in your feels lately.”

“Esme?”

She glances towards him.

Without looking away from the television, he holds up his right hand and flips her the middle finger.

“Well, that’s just rude, isn’t it Lucy? Just plain rude.”

“She’s a traitor. That’s your dog now. She’s made that perfectly clear. Hasn’t left your side since before dinner.”

“Well, if we want to get technical, she’s OUR dog now. But I’m sure she still loves you best. Daddy’s still your favourite, isn’t he? You could never love anyone the way you love him. I’ll let you in on a little secret; I feel the exact same way about him.”

He smiles. “You BOTH have horrible taste in men.”

“Excuse you? I’ll have you know that my taste in me is impeccable. Well, at least NOW it is. I didn’t have to kiss too many frogs before I got to my prince, but the ones I DID have to kiss? Ewwww.” Giving Lucy a final pet, she fills the kettle and plugs in it, completing her tidying of the kitchen and then making a coffee for him, a tea for herself. Starting her journey into the living room, she pauses by the front door; spotting the small cardboard box he’d set down earlier. “What’s this?”

He casts a glance in her direction. “Just some stuff from my old place. That Nik and Yaz packed up.”

“That’s all they brought?”

“That and some clothes.”

“Where’s the rest?”

“What rest? You saw my old place. What more was there for them to bring?”

“What’s in it?”

“Just some personal shit. From back in the day. Nothing you need to worry yourself with.”

“You’re right. I’m sorry. It’s really none of my business. I shouldn’t have even asked. It’s really none of my business.”

“I didn’t mean it like that.” Fuck. He really needs to pay more attention to the tone of his voice when speaking to her. He’s always been straight to the point; never dragging things out or sugar coating them. While it had suited him well in both military and mercenary life and had, it had unfortunately been one of the many issues that eventually sunk his marriage. Esme deserves better; she’s sensitive and feels and loves so deeply and profoundly. And, like her need to give and want affection, it’s yet another thing he needs to get used to. “I just meant that it’s nothing serious. I’d tell you if it was.”

She doesn’t pursue it. Either not as hurt at his reaction as he had thought she would be, or just deciding to pick her battles. But she greets him with a smile when she joins him, setting their mugs down on the coffee table and then accepting the hand he offers her and dropping down beside her.

Releasing her hand, he wraps his arm around her, he pulls her tightly against him, his hand resting on her hip as he presses a kiss to her temple. She smells so damn good; that mixture of coconut, honey, and milk that he’d first discovered in Dhaka and had been so enthralled. It’s simple and unassuming; a cheap shampoo that she’d found in a corner store in Prague just hours before Nik had brought her to Australia. And she’d been so taken aback by his genuine compliments about the scent, that she’d decided never to use anything else.

“I’m sorry.”

She reaches for the coffee and hands it to them, then picks up her tea. “For what?”

“I honestly didn’t mean it the way it sounded. When you asked about the box. It’s not it’s not your business. It’s just…” Shrugging, he sips at his drink. “...nothing you’d be interested in. Or at least, I don’t think you’d be.”

“I’m interested in YOU. In your life. Especially the one that came before me. I know it wasn’t a utopia by any stretch of the imagination, and you’ve been through some shit, but if you ever WANT to share, I’m good with it.”

“Same goes for you, yeah? If you ever just want to tell me about things? I don’t want you holding back because you think it’s going to piss me off. Even if hearing about your ex and the shit he did might make me feel homicidal.”

“And he’d deserve it. If you got a hold of him and broke every bone in his body.”

“I wouldn’t just stop there. I wouldn’t be able to. And a lot of places to stash him afterwards. Where no one would ever find him.”

“As much as I appreciate and love you for wanting to avenge me, I also don’t want to bring him into this. Into our life together. I don’t want him tarnishing things. Ruining them.”

“He could never do that.”

“Just some things really are better left in the past. Some of the things he did…” She chews on her bottom lip, choosing her words carefully. “...I just can’t talk about those. And that’s not a personal slight against you. It’s not because I feel like I CAN’T you. It has nothing to do with you.”

“I know. But if you ever DO want to talk about things…”

“Believe, you’d be the first person…the ONLY person…I’d ever go to. I trust Nik and Yaz, but not in the same way I trust you. Does that make sense?”

“It does. I feel the same way about you.”

“You’re my person, Tyler. You’re the one I want to tell things to. Good AND bad. You’re the one I want to share things with. Whether it’s horror stories about my ex or stupid jokes that I’ve gathered up over the years, or things I hear or see when I’m out. I don’t feel that comfortable with anyone else. Not like I do with you.”

“Do you think maybe it has something to do with the fact I’m the one you get naked and do filthy fucking things with?”

“That could play a role,” she laughs, and presses a lingering kiss to his cheek.

They settle into a comfortable, companionable silence, Lucy joining them and lying on the floor in front of the couch; watching the football game as they nurse their drinks, enjoying the warmth from the fire. He realizes that they’re in the midst of the ‘honeymoon phase’; everything seems to flow and co-exist so easily. Able to shut themselves away from the outside world; refusing to allow intrusive thoughts to penetrate the bubble they’ve built around themselves. They’re happy and comfortable; immersed in the ‘getting to know you stage’ outside of the intimate moments. Learning about each other’s likes and dislikes, their respective quirks and habits. It won’t always be this way. The charm will wear off; they’ll become easily annoyed and agitated as they both attempt to get used to sharing not only their space but their life, with another person.

When their mugs are empty, she places them on the coffee table and then stretches out on the couch. On her side with both arms wrapped around his thigh and her head in his lap.

“Is your team playing?”

His hand settles on her hip. “Yeah. The Western Bulldogs. They’re the ones with the red and blue shirts.”

“Are they winning?”

“By a pretty big margin, actually.”

“This doesn’t look like regular football. It’s nothing like the NFL. These guys are out there just killing each other. And as much as enjoy senseless violence from time to time…”

“This is Australian rules. Nothing like what you’re used to. This is the real deal. Not that wimpy crap they play where you’re from.”

“If we’re able to get sports from Australia, we might be able to get some hockey games. That would be nice. We could watch them together.”

“I don’t like hockey.”

“Have you ever seen a hockey game?”

“Once. That was enough.”

“Tell you what…” She rolls over onto her back “...if you’ll watch some hockey games and learn a bit about it, I’ll do the same with you and your football. Deal?”

“I suppose I could agree to that.”

“You’re going to have to teach me the rules, though. I know nothing about football. ANY kind of football.”

“Shouldn’t be hard. You’ve already proven to be a pretty fast learner in other areas. I’m impressed with you.”

“Well, you happen to be an excellent teacher. Although I do have one complaint.”

Tyler frowns.

“Things worked so well, I am aching. I don’t think I’m going to be able to walk properly for a couple of days.”

“Just a couple? I’m insulted.”

“Next time, the number will be higher, I promise.”

“I may have been a little….hasty…when it came to going from start to finish.”

“It lasted longer than I thought it would, to be honest.”

“Excuse you?”

“I didn’t mean that as a cheap shot. And I’m already very familiar with your skills and your staying power. But think of everything you just went through; you were clinically dead nine months ago, AND you just spent three quarters of a year in the hospital. I know we’ve gotten up to other things, but we haven’t actually done THAT. Given the circumstances, you not lasting that long is to be expected.”

“I don’t know if any of your little speech made me feel any better. It’s embarrassing. I’m thirty-five years old and…”

“You’re thirty-six now. You had a birthday in the midst of everything.”

“That’s it, just go and make things worse. Add another year onto my life.”

“Listen…” Reaching up, she takes hold of his chin. “...there is nothing to be embarrassed about. Do you realize how close you were? To being six feet under? You shouldn’t even be here. A weaker man? They would have given up. They wouldn’t have fought their way back. And if one of the setbacks to surviving all that is to not last as long as you usually do, I’d say that’s pretty damn good.”

“I’ve lasted longer than since I was fifteen years old.”

“And you’ll go back lasting longer again. It’s nothing to be ashamed of. Did I have a problem with it?”

“Not that I could tell. Or that you’re admitting.”

“I have absolutely zero complaints. Except for the whole not being able to walk or sit properly thing. You need to realize that things aren’t going to be like they were. Not for a while, anyway. You’ve come a long way and there’s an even longer way to go. Can’t you just be proud of yourself? For even getting out of that hospital?”

“I only did it for you. You’re the only reason I fought my way back. Why I busted my ass to get back on my feet. If you hadn’t been around…”

“But I WAS. I was there because I wanted to be. Because I knew you had a lot of fight left in you. And I know you’re tired and frustrated, and you think you should be further ahead, but you’re doing way better than anyone ever expected.”

“You expected it. You didn’t give up.”

“I know how strong you are. And I know you in ways all those other people don’t. Even Nik. I wasn’t abandoning you, Tyler. And I would have fought to the bitter end. Until there was some proof you weren’t going to come out of it. So THIS? This whole not lasting as long as normal? It’s actually a huge accomplishment, considering. Think of it that way.”

“Why are you like this?”

“Like what?”

“How do you always find the silver lining in everything? The glass is always half full to you. How…?”

“Because I know what I’ve survived. Not even my worst days come close to what Mark put me through. So guess I’ve just tried to turn my suffering into something positive. I’ve learned to look at the world in a different way.”

“Personally, I think you’re just some kind of freak.”

Scowling, she flicks the tip of his nose with her thumb and forefinger.

“I love you, though. As weird as you are.”

“Admit it, my weirdness was one of the things you found adorable and appealing.”

“No, actually. It wasn’t. I’ve just learned to accept it and live with it.”

“Well, for what it’s worth? I love YOU. You enormously stubborn pain in my ass.”

“I don’t know what I ever did to deserve it, but…”

“Did I say it was up for debate? Did I say you could question things? No. So just…” She places a hand over his mouth. “...shhhh. Stop asking why and stop doubting what you’re worthy of, and just go with it. Can you do that? Just accept it and go with it?”

“I can try.”

“You better,” she warns and then turns her face towards him, her nose pressing into his stomach and her eyes closing. The events of the morning and afternoon quickly catching up to her: the relief that came with finally leaving the hospital, the long flight that had followed, and the drive to the cabin that represented the last leg of their trip to freedom. And then the sex; that effortless transition from hungry, desperate, and impatient to something much more tender and attentive.

Now she’s finally able to relish in the aftermath. Enjoying the hardness of his body and that warmth that radiates from it, his familiar smell and the beat of his heart deep within. Issuing a long, content sigh when one of those enormous, calloused hands is placed upon her cheek; his fingertips softly stroking her forehead while his thumb makes continuous sweeps across her cheek. And just as she begins to feel herself teetering on the edge of sleep, she feels him move against her; the slight shift of his body and the couch cushions as he reaches for the throw on the back of the couch and proceeds to drape it over her. What follows is such a simple, sweet display of care and adoration. A smile playing on her lips as this man -so big and so strong and capable of inflicting so much harm- ever so tenderly tucks and secures the fabric under and around her.

From that moment, she loses all track of time. The stroking of her cheek eventually ceases; his arm becomes limp, and his hand comes to rest upon her hip as sleep finally claims him. His soft snoring and deep rhythmic breathing joining the rattling of the windows as the wind and the snow continue to rage beyond the cabin’s four walls.

*****

When she wakes, it’s to the crackle of the fire and Lucy’s loud snoring, the cattle dog somehow managing to find enough space on the sofa. Rolling onto her back, she gives a loud yawn and a long, languorous stretch. Rapidly blinking her eyes when she’s greeted by the unexpected glow of the couch side lamp.

She watches Tyler in silence. Still in the same spot as when she’d fallen asleep, his eyes narrowed, and his brow furrowed as he devotes his focus and attention to a game on his cell phone. And it isn’t until she lightly tickles his stomach that he acknowledges her, greeting her with a soft smile as he uses gentle fingertips to clear strands away off her forehead and out of her eyes.

“Hey.”

“Hey.”

“Sleep alright?”

Esme nods. “Guess I was just way too warm and cozy. Did you?”

“It was an okay nap. I kinda freaked out a bit, though. When I woke up. I didn’t even remember coming here. I thought I was still in the hospital. So when I didn’t recognize anything…”

“You spent three-quarters of a year there. I’d be surprised if you didn’t have moments like that. Eventually, they’ll go away. Once you get used to being here.”

“Once I realized that you, were YOU, I was alright. I knew I was in a safe place. That everything was going to be okay.”

It’s so sincere and genuine….so unexpected… that it causes a lump of emotion to sit square in her throat. She’s never known anyone quite like him, the strong, silent type that usually doesn’t have much to say, but makes an enormous impact when he does speak. He hides nothing from her. Open and transparent from the beginning of those five days in Dhaka, not just with words, but with facial expressions and body language. Both of them -despite their painful pasts and respective, albeit different, losses- somehow finding a level of trust in one another that neither had experienced before.

“Are you alright?”

Nodding, he tosses his phone onto the coffee table. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“You’re feeling okay? You’ve had enough to eat? You don’t have too much pain? You…”

“Are you really going to do this as soon as you get up? Start worrying?”

“I can’t help it. I’m a worrier. It’s who I am. You should be used to it by now.”

“There’s nothing for you to worry about. I’m fine. I’d tell you if I wasn’t.”

Her eyes narrow. “Would you?”

“I’ve already promised I would. About a million times already. I’m fine, Esme. I mean, other than the fact my left leg and my ass are completely asleep.”

“You could have gotten up, you know.” She attempts to sit up, laughing when a broad, strong forearm prevents her. “You didn’t have to stay here. You could have moved me.”

“I didn’t have the heart to do it. You looked way too cute, lying there like that. You snore, by the way.”

“I most certainly do not.”

“You do. You snore AND talk in your sleep.”

“Did I say anything interesting?”

“You didn’t incriminate yourself in any crimes if that’s what you mean. You did make a grocery list, though. Toilet paper, milk, ketchup, and cat litter.”

“Bullshit. You’re making that up.”

“I’m telling the truth. Scouts honour.”

“You were NEVER a scout. Who are you kidding?”

“But you did make a grocery list. And those are the things you mentioned. I have no idea where the cat litter comes into play, but…”

“Maybe that was a hint. That we should get a cat.”

“I don’t like cats.”

“How can you not like cats? They’re cute, and they’re furry, and they purr and make biscuits on you. How can you not be into that sort of thing?”

“They smell funny.”

“This coming from a guy that lets chickens freely roam the house. And sleep in the bed!”

“We are NOT getting a cat.”

“Just one?”

“No.”

“Please? You won’t even know it’s here. I’ll do all the feeding and the cleaning up and…”

“I don’t want a cat. I’m not a cat guy. Do I look like one to you?”

“Please, you like pussy more than anyone I know.”

“Not that kind, I don’t.”

“I’ll break you. I’ll wear you down. I will get my cat.”

“Over my dead body.”

“That can be arranged.”

“You’d never go through with. You’d miss me too much.”

“Like a hemorrhoid.” She squeals when he slides a hand between her and the couch and aggressively pinches her ass, then playfully shoves him away and sits up; hands smoothing over her hair and fixing her ponytail. “I have some bad news, by the way.”

“Color me surprised.”

“We have to leave the house sooner than I thought. We need to go into town. Grab a few things.”

“Ketchup, ass tissue, and cat litter?”

“Ice cream. And chocolate. My period is coming soon.”

“I didn’t need to know that.”

“I mean, you wouldn’t wonder why I’m suddenly bitchy and bleeding out of my vagina?”

“You’re always bitchy. And you like things rough. Anything can go wrong when you’re…”

“And firewood. We need firewood. Track down some of the pre-cut, bagged stuff. There’s not enough on the porch to even last even a couple of days. It’s how we heat this place, so…”

“Have you taken a look outside? We are surrounded by trees. Which is where firewood comes from. And I already saw an axe out on the front porch.”

“You have one good arm.”

“Which is more than enough to chop firewood. I mean, it’ll take a lot longer than if I had TWO good arms, but…”

“And you have one good leg. You’re going to hurt yourself. Chop your foot off or something. I could always do it. I know how to use an axe.”

“You can lift an axe?”

“Well, maybe not a normal-size one. But a little one.”

“You mean a hatchet?”

“It’s technically a little axe, right? I mean, it’ll take me a couple of days to make any sort of headway, but…”

“And you worry about me hurting myself? I’m just supposed to be okay with you wielding a hatchet? I mean, if you want to do it that badly, you can just come out and help me. Make sure I don’t fuck things up.”

“Oh, right. And then when I annoy you, you’ll chop me into a million pieces and throw me in the woods!”

“I would never chop you up and throw you in the woods.”

“Aww, you big softy. You wouldn’t know what to do with yourself; if I wasn’t around anymore. You’d…”

“I’d chop you up and feed you to the dog.”

At the end of the couch, Lucy briefly raises her head, tilting it from side to side before issuing a heavy sigh and returning to her original position.

“You’re an asshole,” Esme grumbles, laughing when she tries to stand but quickly finds two powerful arms wrapping around her waist and yanking her back down.

“I'll tell you what, because I don’t want you worrying so much, we will go into town and find bagged firewood.”

“Thank you.”

“We’ll get enough to last at least a couple of weeks. But once it runs out, you gotta give me a chance, yeah? To try and do things? Because I’m going to go completely fucking nuts doing nothing but sitting on my ass all day.”

“There’s lots of things for you to do. You can go on walks, you can ice fish, you can learn to knit, like Yaz said.”

“Just let me try. That’s all I’m asking. I’m not going to get any better by not testing the limits. You need to trust me.”

“It’s not that I don’t trust you. It’s just that I worry about you. I’ve spent nine months taking care of you. In some way or another. And it makes me really nervous; when I think about all the things that could go wrong.”

“Don’t think about those things, then,”

“Believe me, it’s easier said than done. But I WILL try. To not worry so much.”

“Thank you.”

Slipping out of his embrace, she climbs into his lap, wrapping both arms around his neck and placing her head on his shoulder. And her eyes close as she enjoys both his scent and touch, large hands slipping up the back of her shirt, calloused fingertips repeatedly travelling up and down her spine.

“By the way…” His voice rumbles deep within his chest. “...I’d never do anything horrible to you. Not even remotely.”

Smiling, she presses a kiss to the sensitive spot just below his left ear. “I know.”

“Also, I’m ready for my surprise.”

“Jesus…”

“Listen, you said the ‘p word’. That was the trigger.”

Laughing, she pulls back to look at him, fingertips tracing the scar that curves over the bridge of her nose. “You’re like a horny fifteen-year-old stuck in a grown man’s body.”

“I’ve got a lot to make up for. Nine months. That’s…”

“A long ass time.”

“I don’t know old timer,” she teases, and playfully ruffles his hair. “Think you can keep up with a youngin’ like me.”

“I don’t know.” One hand slips between them to gently cup her breast, and he feels her shiver against him when his thumb brushes over her nipple. “But I can’t try.”