 
Essa Alroc

The Apology

© 2012, Essa Alroc

Published at Smashwords

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. This book contains material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author / publisher.
Chapter 1

If Gabrielle could change anything in the world, anything at all, it would be her decision to come home early from her shopping trip on an ordinary December afternoon. She left her husband still sleeping that Saturday morning and headed out the door to get a head start on Christmas shopping. Nick had expected her to be gone all day.

In the six months since marrying her husband, Gabrielle had become an expert at several things. One of those things was spending Nick's money. Her husband was a wealthy businessman, who worked in a field that Gabrielle didn't really understand. He'd vaguely explained it as an import business, bringing merchandise into the country for resale. He didn't discuss his business and Gabby didn't mind. He gave them security, which was all she ever really wanted.

Because Gabby was such an expert shopper, she'd found everything she wanted to get for Nick in less time than she thought. She'd rushed home, relieved to find the driveway empty, and started looking for the perfect hiding place for his gifts. Their home was huge. Eight bedrooms and five baths; but at the same time, Gabby worried that Nick would find what she'd gotten him. She decided to hide her gifts in the one place she was sure Nick would never look; the attic.

Though reasonable at the time, it was a decision she would live to regret.

The attic was large, clean and deserted. The only things they kept up there were holiday decorations and old furniture. As Gabby remembered, there was also a closet in that attic. It was a closet that would be perfect for storing the gifts she'd gotten.

She jumped out of the Lexus Nick had gotten her for a wedding present and started to load her arms up with bags. Lucia, her housekeeper, poked her head out the door and began to come out to help, but Gabby waved her away and dragged her packages in on her own. She took the steps two at a time, racing to get to the top floor of their home and into the attic before Nick came home from wherever he'd gone to. She tugged down the ladder to the crawl space and, with some very complicated maneuvering, managed to get all the boxes and bags up ahead of her. She quickly ascended the ladder and then pulled it up behind her to cover her tracks.

Gabrielle crossed the room; the shadeless window gave enough light that she didn't feel the need to hunt down a light switch. Instead, she pulled the closet doors open and was relieved to find it was mostly empty.

Gabby was just stacking up the last box into an unstable tower of gifts when she heard the sliding ladder get yanked down. She let out a quick gasp, hoping she hadn't been found out. Thinking fast, she crammed herself in next to her tower of presents and slid the closet door shut behind her. It was a flimsy door that didn't lock; the kind that had wooden slats with cracks between them. She could see out into the room, but no one could see in. Gabby stifled a giggle as Nick's head poked up into the attic. At first, she thought he was up in the attic hiding presents for her. Then she realized he had someone with him – two someone's.

The first was Grigor. Gabby had met him before. He was Nick's chief of security at his business. Grigor was a large man, over 6'5" and muscular. He was at least ten years older than her husband. He rarely spoke and he almost never smiled. Grigor had always made her nervous.

The second person, she didn't recognize; mainly because he had a bag on his head. Gabby clamped a hand over her mouth to stifle her gasp. She watched through the slats as Grigor shoved him into a chair.

"I wish we didn't have to do this here." Her husband's voice was low and serious.

Grigor gave the man in the chair a shove. "We wouldn't if this idiot had kept his mouth shut." He ripped the bag off his head. "Most of the warehouses are hot now, thanks to him."

Nick let out a humorous laugh. "That is disappointingly true." He crossed his arms and leaned against the wall; his handsome face a mask. "It would be unfortunate if my wife were to find out."

Grigor snorted as he began tying the man to the chair using the zip ties he carried in his jacket. "She still doesn't know?"

Nick smiled as he studied his nails. "She's not the brightest woman in the world." He watched as Grigor leaned down to pick up a small case he'd brought with him. "But that's not the reason I married her."

Gabby's eyes narrowed at the insult. Sure, she wasn't Einstein, but Nick sounded like he thought she was an idiot. Her time in the closet was proving to be quite educational. Her husband was a criminal and he thought she was a moron.

"So why did you?" Grigor studied the man in the chair, making sure that his hands and feet were securely tied. He pulled the bag off the mans head and he was no one Gabby recognized. Just a terrified, red faced man with a gag in his mouth.

Nick raised an eyebrow. "Have you seen her?" He turned towards the table and opened the small case they'd brought with them. "Our children will be beautiful; that's a guarantee. Let's hope they get my intelligence, though. One beautiful idiot is quite enough for me."

Gabby glared harder. She was so getting a divorce. In fact, she was a step away from jumping out of the closet and demanding one when she saw what Nick had in his hand.

An electric carving knife.

The man in the chair began to scream under his gag, his muffled wails carrying throughout the room. Nick handed the carving knife to Grigor and leaned down over the man. He tugged the gag out of his mouth.

"Now, Luka," Nick's voice was ice cold. It was the same voice he used when Lucia used the wrong starch on his shirts. "Perhaps you can explain to me why all my warehouses are currently under surveillance?"

The man called Luka gasped; his face was red and his eyes were teary. He never took them off the carving knife. "I swear, Mr. Yakiv, I told no one. I swear on my children's lives."

"If you mean Ana and Adriy, there is no need." Nick pulled the carving knife from Grigor's hand. "It seems your children had an unfortunate accident this morning in your pool, along with their mother. So you see," Nick studied the knife disinterestedly, "you swearing on their lives means very little to me, considering they are no longer alive."

Luka began to wail as the meaning of Nicks' sentence sank in. Gabby shoved a hand in her mouth to stifle her own shocked sob. Her husband wasn't just a killer; he was a ruthless murderer who apparently had no problem doing away with women and children as well. How could she not have known?

"Now," Nick leaned down closer as the wailing man gasped, trying to regain his breath. "I'm sure that you have nothing left to live for, and that is fine. You will never leave this house alive, anyway. However, the choice is yours." He ran the carving knife down Luka's face. "You can tell me exactly who you talked to and receive a quick death, followed by being dismembered and dumped into the bay. Or, we can dismember you while you're still alive, or at least until you feel like talking."

Gabby watched Luka. His eyes were empty and sad now that he knew his family was gone, and that he would soon be joining them. His expression was stoic. He glared into her husband's eyes and then, to Gabby's surprise, he spat in Nick's face.

Gabby flinched, but Nick just looked amused. He pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped the spit away, his eyes never leaving Luka. He handed the carving knife to Grigor. "Start with his fingers."

Gabby clamped her hands over her ears as the carving knife whirred to life. Even pressing them down as hard as she could, she still heard the scream of the knife as it cut into the meat of Luka's hand, sawing through bone. He was screaming, but the sound of the knife drowned everything out.

For the next two hours, Gabrielle sat in a closet surrounded by gifts, watching as her husband dismembered a man alive.

***

Jesse Turnblatt pulled into a Park & Ride just outside of Tallahassee, Florida, as the air pressure in his right front tire dropped yet again. He sighed and shoved open the driver's side door, getting ready to pull out the hand crank inflator he'd bought at a discount at a local Wal-Mart. It took forever and was hell on his shoulder, but he had no choice. There wasn't a gas station around for miles and, if he tried to drive to one in his broken down jeep, he was guaranteed to have a blow-out.

That's just the way his life had gone, so far.

Ever since high school, Jesse had been plagued with an ongoing string of bad luck. If something bad could happen, it would happen to Jesse Turnblatt. His promising football career had been cut short by a stupid freak accident. Then, he'd gone to community college, only to drop out after a minor marijuana conviction had nullified his financial aid. Unsure of what to do, Jesse had turned to the military, sure that an athletic guy like him would be a great career soldier.

Just his luck, he was color blind – the one medical malady that couldn't be waived to get him into service anyway. Even the most basic soldier had to be able to tell the difference between red and green. Jesse couldn't even do that.

Jesse wasn't a particularly smart man, nor was he particularly charming. The few things he had going for him included being naturally handsome and naturally athletic. While those qualities alone were enough to make him the king of any high school he attended, he'd learned they'd grown exceedingly more useless the closer he got to thirty.

Jesse flinched as he stubbed his toe on a rock on the way to his trunk, and kept moving. He ran a hand through skull-cut hair and pulled open the hatchback, yanking out the hand pump with a swear. He walked back around to the front of the jeep, and managed to stub his toe on the same damn rock. He bent down, the hot Florida sun scorching the back of his neck, and let out another muffled swear as he realized he was sweating buckets in his last clean shirt. He started pumping and pumping, grunting with exertion as he struggled to get his slowly leaking tire above 30 psi.

"This your car?"

Jesse sighed inwardly and turned around to be confronted with the navy blue, starched leg of a Florida State Trooper. _No_ , he wanted to say, _I'm siphoning air out of someone else's tire_. Instead, he stretched to his full 6'2 height and met the state troopers glare head on. "Yeah, it's mine."

The trooper let out a "tsk" sound with his tongue and started to pull out a ticket book. "Your registration is expired."

Jesse nodded in agreement. "I'm planning on getting it registered when I settle."

The state trooper pulled off his mirrored sunglasses as he started to write the ticket. "And where you planning on settling?"

Jesse was about to say 'Mississippi' when he noticed the trooper had grey eyes. Grey eyes had always had an effect on him, regardless of the owner. They always hit him with the same amount of guilt he'd felt that day in high school, nearly eleven years before. He always thought of Gabby MacMillan.

And he couldn't let the image of those sad, grey eyes, strangely beautiful in her homely face, go.

Jesse had hoped she would go to her reunion. He had just gotten the news from his doctor that his boxing career, short-lived as it was, was over when he'd decided to go. The only reason he'd gone at all was to see her again. To tell her he was sorry and that, weirdly, he'd missed her. The nerdy, overweight girl with the awkward crush. The girl he had destroyed for no more reason then he found her crush embarrassing and he'd been angry with her.

She hadn't gone to the reunion. Her name tag, with her maiden name in parenthesis, sat unclaimed on the table all night. He'd been surprised to learn she'd gotten married. He doubted she had aged well. She was probably even heavier at 29 than she had been at 18. He pictured her husband as an overweight, balding man with a large hook nose.

Her new last name was Ukrainian. It made sense, considering she'd fled their Massachusetts hometown shortly after graduation and settled down in South Florida. He wondered if she was happy, if she'd had children.

He wondered if she still dwelled on high school the way he did. It wouldn't surprise him if she did. She had, after all, been the victim.

"You on something, son?"

Jesse looked up, shaken out of his thoughts. "No, sir. Just overheated. Sure is hot here." Jesse tugged at the collar of his t-shirt uncomfortably and stared up at the afternoon sun. His thoughts stayed with Gabby. The more he thought about it, the more his mind stuck to that day. It was shortly after the day he'd humiliated her in front of the entire school that his luck had started to go bad. "I'm going to Mississippi, sir."

"Right," The trooper nodded and pointed to the curb. "Can you come over here for me?" Jesse nearly growled in frustration as the trooper started to guide him through a field sobriety test. As he said his alphabet backwards, he thought more and more about Gabby. Her sad, grey eyes and her broken heart. The way everything had gone perfectly for him before that day, and how it had all turned to shit afterwards. Perhaps it had been karma?

"Follow my pen, son."

Jesse followed the pen, but his mind stayed elsewhere. He was down to his last $500, no job prospects in sight, driving a broken-down jeep and living on a wardrobe of five different shirts and the same two pairs of jeans. Maybe his jeep had broken down for a reason. Maybe karma was telling him that if he wanted to move forward, if he wanted anything good to happen again, he needed to go back. He needed to apologize to Gabrielle MacMillan, the girl he'd once liked so much and hurt so badly. What could it hurt? He had nowhere else to be. As he was hopping on one foot down a straight line, he turned his face to the trooper. "How far is Miami from here?"

The trooper looked at him in confusion. "Miami?" He tilted his head in thought. "About eight hours."

Jesse dropped his foot to the ground. He was less then 8 hours from Gabby. What would it hurt to alter his course and see if an apology would actually work?

"Why do you ask?"

Jesse snapped his attention back to the trooper. "There's a girl I know; from high school..."

Suddenly, the stern trooper's face slid into an easy smile. "First love, huh?"

"Something like that."

"Well, that explains why you've been so distracted." The trooper smiled and closed his ticket book, seeming to forget he was about to issue a ticket for an expired registration. "I married my high school sweetheart. Best choice I ever made was hunting her down and knocking on her door."

Jesse watched in amazement as the trooper walked around his jeep, forgetting about the sobriety test and instead, getting stuck in his own love story. "She's in Miami. I figured it never hurts to try again."

The trooper nodded, "Yeah, but you're not going to get there on this tire." The trooper kicked the leaky front driver's side tire on Jesse's car. "But my brother-in-law just bought a new car and has been selling the parts off his old jeep. Pretty sure one of his tires would fit yours."

Jesse's eyebrow shot up. Could karma work this fast? "Do you think he'd be willing to sell them for cheap, because I don't have a lot of money?"

The trooper shook his head. "Consider it on me."

A shocked Jesse got into his broken-down jeep and followed the trooper to a modest, family community in Jacksonville. The now genial state trooper introduced him to his brother-in-law and they soon had the front tire on Jesse's jeep changed, free of charge. As Jesse pulled out of the dirt driveway and onto the road, he smiled and waved to the brother-in-law and the closet romantic state trooper. He was going to find Gabrielle MacMillan and he was going to fix what he'd done wrong.

For the first time in a little over eleven years, he felt like he was finally on the right path.

***

Gabrielle sat across from her husband, nervously fiddling with her fork and avoiding eye contact. Everything felt surreal, like she was walking through a dream. After her husband and Grigor had finished with the body, they had left it, presumably expecting the 'idiot' Gabrielle to be home any minute. She'd waited for 30 terrifying minutes, alone with the mutilated body of Luka, until she had finally had the courage to brave her way out of the attic.

She'd slipped out unnoticed and then had spent the afternoon driving around town, going nowhere, doing nothing. Just driving in a blank, panicked haze, unsure of what to do or if she could do anything at all.

She wouldn't go to the cops. She had witnessed first-hand what happened to people who talked about her husband.

"The chicken is a little tough."

_Please don't kill Lucia._ "I think it's just the cut." _Oh, God...I said cut._ Gabrielle's heart started to thump again.

Nick shoved his plate away. "Probably. Tell Lucia to start shopping at a different butcher. This is the third time this week."

Gabrielle offered a silent prayer that Nick wouldn't kill the butcher for his subpar selection. She nodded wordlessly.

"How was shopping?"

_It was going great until I came home and witnessed you mutilating someone._ "It was fine."

Nick took a sip of his wine, still watching her carefully. "Have you decided what you want for Christmas, yet?"

_Yes, a divorce...and please don't kill me._ "No." She shook her head, trying to get the sound of an electric carving knife cleaving through bone out of her thoughts. She started to clear her plate. "I'm not feeling very well. I think I might go lay down."

Nick gave her a gentle smile. "Too much shopping?"

_Too much watching my husband and his henchmen commit murder._ "Something like that." Gabrielle could feel her husband's eyes burning into her back as she walked up the stairs.

She wondered how long it would be until he got tired of his idiot wife and she got her turn with the carving knife.

***

Jesse checked the address for the third time. According to his GPS, this was where Gabrielle now lived with her husband of 6 months, Nicholas Yakiv. It was better than he'd expected. Much better. Jesse had expected a one-bedroom, tiny house in a rough part of town. Instead, he was looking at a two-story McMansion with a Lexus in the driveway.

Gabrielle had done very well for herself, indeed.

He slid out of the driver's seat and walked up the cobblestone path lined by pristine flowerbeds. Gabrielle's home was located in an exclusive gated community. Luckily for him, the elderly security guard had mistaken him for the pool cleaner and let him in without question. He had been afraid to give his name at the gate. He was afraid that Gabrielle would hear it and refuse to see him.

Jesse took a deep breath as he raised the brass door knocker and rapped on the door. He had barely knocked once when the door was pulled open and a short, middle aged, heavyset woman was smiling at him.

"Gabrielle?" Jesse stared at her in shock. He'd expected her to age poorly, but not at twice the rate of a normal person. Her hair was still deep auburn, but it was streaked with grey. Her eyes were hidden behind heavy bifocals. Before he could get another word out, the woman turned away.

"Mrs. Yakiv, you have a visitor." The woman had a Spanish accent and Jesse felt a little stupid for mistaking her for Gabrielle. His nerves were getting the better of him.

"Who is it?" He heard the sound of approaching footsteps; the soft soprano voice.

Then she was there.

If it wasn't for her unique grey eyes, he would have never recognized her. She had lost the weight; that was clear. The chubby pear-shaped body and ugly, bulky clothes were gone. She was wearing a form-fitting yellow halter top and a pair of tight low rise jeans. She had the body of a 50's centerfold. Tiny waist, rounded hips and full breasts. Her auburn hair was cut short, in a chin length, layered bob that exposed high cheekbones, full lips and a tiny button nose.

The nose was definitely the result of a very skilled plastic surgeon. The Gabrielle he'd known had a beak like a toucan. "Gabrielle?"

She crossed her arms over her chest and watched him cautiously. "Yeah?"

The words were out of his mouth before he could stop them. "My God, you look amazing!"

She rolled her eyes. "Tell me something I don't know." A hand dropped on a curvy hip. "Look, if you're trying to flatter me to get me to buy something, it won't work."

Jesse shook his head, surprised she hadn't recognized him. "No, Gabby; it's me, Jesse." Gabby's grey eyes gave no hint of remembering who he was. "Jesse Turnblatt?" Still, nothing chimed in Gabby's memory. "From high school?" He was starting to feel like an idiot.

"High school?" Gabby shook her head. "I didn't go to high school here; I went in..."

"Massachusetts," he finished for her. "I know." Jesse raked his hand through his hair in frustration. "That's why I'm here – to apologize."

"Apologize?" Gabby tilted her head in confusion. "Are you the guy who hit our mailbox and drove away?" She put up a hand as he started to speak again. "Look, it's fine. But let's just forget it happened, ok? My husband was kind of obsessed about that and if he finds out who did it, he'll probably flip out."

"No, I..." This meeting was not going as Jesse had planned. Gabrielle seemed to have no memory at all. If anything, she seemed distracted and anxious. She also seemed to be in a big hurry to get him off her doorstep. "Are you ok?"

Gabrielle nearly laughed at the stranger's question. Ok? She would never be ok again! Her husband was a murderer and she was a terrible actress.

All night, she had struggled to pretend she was fine and nothing was wrong, but Nick was starting to catch on. He'd been shooting her odd looks and the odd looks were making her even more nervous, which made her act even more strangely.

It was a vicious circle that was going to get her killed. She still had no idea what to do. She couldn't go to the police. He husband wasn't just a killer, he was a Kingpin. She had seen how that movie ended and she had no desire to wind up a bag of body parts floating in Biscayne Bay.

She could run. The idea had come and gone a few times. She originally planned to pretend nothing had happened, but she knew now that she'd never be able to pull it off. Even a stranger standing on her doorstep could tell there was something wrong with her. She had to run.

Gabby was vaguely aware she had been silent for an awkward amount of time, but she didn't care. She wasn't upset about the mailbox and she hoped James or whoever he was would just take her forgiveness and move on. He was the last thing she needed now.

She would run, she finally decided. She would run and she wouldn't take anything with her that belonged to Nick. She still had her savings account from before her marriage. She could get by on that until she found out what she was going to do. She'd leave his credit cards, his car, even the purse he'd gotten her for her last birthday.

If he saw that she wasn't going to take anything of his and that she wasn't going to cause any trouble for him, maybe he'd let her be. It was a long shot, but it was the only shot she had. Now, she just had to figure out how to get to town.

"Gabby?"

She looked up at the stranger. Then she looked behind him, to the jeep parked in the street in front of her house. Her words came out in a rush. "If I forgive you for the mailbox, will you give me a ride to town?"

"Mailbox?" He shook his head again. "Gabby, this isn't about your mailbox."

She nearly screamed in frustration. What was with this guy? "Fine, whatever it's about. Will you give me a ride to town?"

"Look, I don't know what's going on," he finally seemed to notice the desperation in her eyes, because he relented. "Fine, I'll bring you to town. I'll bring you anywhere you want to go."

Gabby let out a sigh of relief. "Thanks," She turned towards the stairs. "Just wait right there; please don't leave ok? I'll only be a few minutes."

He nodded and Gabby raced up the stairs, worried that he would leave before she returned. He was her only hope. She had no idea when Nick would be back and cabs left a trail. She needed him. With her heart thundering in her chest, she raced into the bedroom she and Nick shared. She started stripping off the clothes she'd bought with his money. She took everything off and began rummaging through the drawers for clothes that had been hers since before they got married. After a few minutes, she was lucky enough to find an old Green Day t-shirt, a pair of poorly-fitting jeans and a sweatshirt.

She had no underwear. Nick had insisted on only high-end lingerie after they were married, and had tossed all her old cotton briefs. None of her prior undergarments had made the cut.

She yanked open her purse, found her driver's license and the picture of her mother that she always carried. She stuffed them in the back pocket of her jeans. Finally, she found the bank book from her old savings account and grabbed that, too.

She had nothing on her that didn't belong to her, except for her wedding ring. With eyes that were surprisingly teary, she yanked at the wedding band set. She had a moment of panic when they refused to budge. It would all be for nothing if he thought she had stolen the ring. The gaudy diamond was easily worth six figures. She pulled again and the ring mercifully came loose.

With hands shaking so hard they hurt, she dropped the ring on their dresser and made her way back downstairs. She could only pray he was still waiting for her.

***

Jesse stood in the doorway of Gabrielle's home, waiting for her return. She came racing down the stairs, dressed differently than she had been before. The sexy clothes were gone and, instead, she was wearing a pair of jeans that were too big for her, a faded t-shirt and, if he wasn't mistaken from the jiggle he was seeing when she walked, she was no longer wearing a bra.

"You ready?"

She nodded happily and started to march out the door in front of him.

"You don't need a purse or anything?"

She slapped the back pocket of her ill-fitting jeans. "Got everything I need right here."

Jesse shook his head and followed her out the door. His apology was definitely not going as planned.
Chapter 2

Jesse's passenger was staring at him. He could feel her eyes on his face, studying him. Finally, she spoke.

"Hey!" Her pretty grey eyes were wide. "I went to high school with you!"

Jesse let out a laugh at her statement. "As I've been trying to tell you."

"Hmph," She plopped back in her seat, her pretty face scrunched up in thought. "What a weird coincidence."

"Coincidence?"

"Yeah," She gestured towards him. "The guy who flattened our mailbox was someone I went to high school with. Small world."

Jesse let out a snort of frustration. Her looks had changed, but Gabrielle was just as flakey as she'd been in high school. "I didn't run over your mailbox!"

"Oh," she shot him a hurt look. "Well you don't have to yell at me over it. You were the one who was apologizing for running it over."

Jesse took a deep breath and let it out again. "I wasn't apologizing for running over your mailbox. I was apologizing for the way I treated you in high school."

"Really?" Gabrielle thought back to high school. Vague memories of being a chubby subject of ridicule, going home alone every day after school to listen to music, to take care of her various pets, and hold her mother's hand when the pain got bad played in her mind like a carousel. "That was like a million years ago."

"It was ten. Ten years ago. You just had your high school reunion." Jesse's frustration was coming out in his voice, even though he was trying to hide it.

Gabrielle didn't miss it. "For someone trying to apologize, you're kind of being a dick about the whole thing."

He gestured to the road. "I'm giving you a ride."

"True," Gabrielle pressed her forehead to the passenger side window and watched the scenery fly past. "Well, once you drop me off, you can consider all forgiven and all your sins absolved."

Jesse considered her statement, wondering what his newfound karma god would think of that. Finally, he shook his head negatively. "You can't forgive me for something you don't remember."

Gabby rolled her eyes and shot him a look. "Look, I'm deeply sorry I don't remember your taunts in high school. I had a large list of tormentors and honestly, all their faces have kind of blurred together. So you can either accept the forgiveness or you could go on feeling guilty for the rest of your life. I don't care either way." Her eyes fell onto the open road again. "I have bigger problems right now than high school. If I could, I would go back to high school a million times over, if it would get me out of the situation I'm in right now."

Her voice was so sad, Jesse turned to look at her. "Anything I can help with?"

She shook her head. "The only thing you can help with is bringing me where I need to go and dropping me off."

Jesse shook his head and focused on the road again. "Where are we going?"

"Liberty City."

***

Nick Yakiv arrived home to a strangely silent house. "Gabby?" His voice echoed off the quiet walls. It was 7 pm and Lucia was long gone, leaving him and his wife alone for the evening. "Gabby, kitten. I'm home early." He tossed his keys on the table. "Let's work on that baby you owe me."

Nick raised his eyebrow as the silence of the room mocked him. It was unusual for Gabby to not come bounding down the stairs as soon as he opened the door, ready to hop into his arms. It was especially unusual of Gabby to not respond to him when he called for her.

He started to wonder if she was sick. She'd been acting strangely the night before. He headed up the stairs to investigate, sure she was lying in their bed asleep. He pushed open the door to the master suite. "Gabby, kitten, you ok?"

It was deserted. The lights were out and their king sized bed was still made. It hadn't been slept in.

"Gabby?" Nick was starting to get nervous. Gabby never stayed out late on a Sunday and she'd never left the house without leaving him a note. His eyes dropped to the floor. The clothes Gabby had been wearing when he'd left were in a pile on the floor. More unusual behavior. Gabby never left anything lying around. She was almost obsessively neat. His eyes fell on the dresser they shared. Antique, polished oak. It had cost him more then ten thousand dollars. But Gabby had wanted it, had given him those big, grey kitten eyes that made him melt every time.

And he'd broken out his American Express.

It wasn't just the dresser he was staring at, though. It was the object sitting on top of it. A platinum gold, princess cut 4.5 carat pink diamond wedding ring. It had cost him a fortune and he'd picked it out himself. The second he saw it, he thought of her. She'd loved it. She never took it off.

Until today.

He marched towards the dresser and picked the ring up, marveling at how tiny it looked in his large hand. When Gabby wore it, it looked gigantic. He liked the way it looked on her, liked the way anyone could see from a mile away that she was taken. She was his.

He pulled out his cell phone and pressed 3 on his speed dial. Grigor picked up before the first ring was over. "I need you here now." He glared at the ring in his hand, determined to glue it on to his beautiful wife's finger the second he found her, so she could never take it off again. "It seems my wife has decided to leave me."

***

Jesse leaned forward and read the peeling paint on the door. "Strangely Sober?"

They were parked outside a bar in one of the roughest neighborhoods in Miami. Jesse was actually pretty surprised that Gabrielle would want to come here. He had been expecting to drop his pampered princess off at a Four Seasons, where she could run up her husband's credit card in revenge for whatever fight they were having. Instead, they were idling in front of a dilapidated bar, on a deserted street filled with empty businesses and bums loitering in the alleyway.

"Yes," Gabrielle reached for her door handle and shot him a nervous smile. "Thanks so much for driving me here. And like I said, whatever you did, you're totally forgiven now."

Jesse watched Gabby pensively, wondering if what he'd done was enough to satisfy the karma gods and make his life normal again. He watched her push her way out of the jeep and march to the sidewalk in front of the bar, with a determined air. Shaking his head, he put his hand to the key in the ignition, planning on gunning the engine and getting the hell out of dodge. Just as he was turning the key, a blue flame of static electricity attacked his hand so bad that his index finger went numb. "Ok, fine, we're not done yet." Jesse muttered as he flicked off the engine and pushed open his door. He took a brief look around and could kind of understand where karma was coming from. He was inclined to agree. There was no way in hell he was leaving the sheltered Gabrielle in an area of town like this. Even in her cheaper clothes, everything about her screamed money, from her perfectly styled hair to her perfectly manicured hands. She would be raped and murdered in a matter of hours.

Gabby looked back as she realized Jesse was following her. "I'm fine," Gabrielle shot a nervous look to the bar. "I have friends here."

He walked around to her side of the car and caught her by the elbow. "You have friends here?"

Gabby cleared her throat. "Well, I have a friend here." She pulled out of his grip and headed towards the door. Jesse flinched as she pushed it open. The hinges hadn't been oiled in years and the door screamed in protest over being moved out of its slightly open/slightly closed state.

"Gabby..." Jesse started to speak, but she was already shoving herself into the bar. He followed her in. The inside matched the outside. It was broken down; the smell of rotting wood, cigarette smoke and old vomit hung heavy in the air. In the center of the bar, two men sat at a creaky, shaking table, playing a game of chess. One was middle-aged, Italian, with black hair that was just starting to grey at the temple. He was the definition of ruggedly handsome.

The other man defied definition. Even seated, Jesse could tell he was the approximate size of a refrigerator. He was midnight black, completely bald and completely expressionless. One of the man's eyes was pitch black; so dark, the pupil was no longer discernable. The other was covered in an eye patch.

If Gabrielle was claiming she had a friend here, Jesse was seriously starting to worry about what kind of book clubs she was joining. Both the men turned towards them when they walked in and were eyeing them with open hostility. Jesse was just starting to prepare for a fight, when a new voice rang out.

"Gabby, you horrible cunt!" They both spun as a blond woman in her mid-thirties rounded the bar. "It's about time you came to check out the new digs!" The woman was pretty, but in an incredibly rough way. Her hair was bleached blonde, with a good four inches of dark roots sticking out of the top. A four-inch scar ran from right under her right nostril all the way up to her ear. Her eyes were red-rimmed and bloodshot, as though she'd been up for a long period of time.

Gabby let out a sigh of relief next to him and the men went back to their chess game. "Sal!" Jesse watched in shock as his princess raced around the curve of the mahogany bar to hug the blonde woman. "I've missed you so much! You really have to stop disappearing."

Sal gave a crooked smile. "It's kind of my thing."

"But six months?"

Sal sighed. "What can I say? Mistakes were made, peacocks were stolen." She waved a hand clutching a cigarette. "It's all water under the bridge."

Her eyes met Jesse's and for a second, he was taken aback. Her gaze was familiar. Her eyes were the eyes he'd seen before. They were the eyes of a kingpin telling him to throw a fight. They were the eyes of a boxing ring doctor who told him one more concussion wouldn't matter. They were dangerous eyes.

Whoever this Sal was, she was more than a bartender.

She took a drag off her cigarette and eyed him with suspicion. "Who's this?"

He reached out a hand to shake. "I'm Jesse Turnblatt, ma'am."

She looked at his hand as though he'd extended a snake. "Ma'am?" She shot her gaze to the table across the bar, focusing on the dark-haired man with her same bloodshot eyes. "Gio, am I old enough to be a ma'am?"

"In my mind, you're always twelve, Sally girl."

Sal sighed, "Such is my life." She looked Gabrielle deep in the eye. "Tell me, what is the point of being a criminal mastermind when you can't even get the respect of your own uncle?" She turned back towards the bar. "So, what are you running from, pretty, pretty Gabby?" Sal took another drag off her cigarette.

Gabby let out a nervous giggle. "Who said I was running?"

Sal snorted. "I know the look of hunted prey when I see it."

Gabby swallowed deeply and shot a look to Jesse. "Can we talk in private?"

Sal yanked up the partition in her bar and gestured Gabby in. "Sure thing. We can use my workroom. Thanks to my new assistant, it is almost 100% rat free."

Gabby started to follow her and Jesse caught her arm again. "No." No way was karma god ok with Gabby disappearing into the bowels of a criminal's hideout. He was sure that's where he was now. This was no regular bar and these were no regular people. His brief stint in unregulated boxing had taught him how to recognize the seedy underworld when he saw it. Gabby didn't belong in it.

Gabby glared at him. "Listen, I've already forgiven you. It's already in the past." She waved a hand towards the door. "You can go now with your conscience completely absolved, ok?" She looked to where the clearly insane Sal was waiting to lead her down to her 'rat free' workroom. "She can help me now." Gabby tried to tug her arm free. "You can't."

"I might be able to if you would tell me what's wrong." Jesse was no longer convinced that Gabrielle was a spoiled millionaire's wife trying to get revenge on her husband. She was clearly scared and clearly in over her head, if she was considering mixing up with the likes of Sal.

Gabrielle let out a sigh, her face filled with tension and frustration. "Look, I'll be fine." Her voice was soothing. It was a voice she had used before, and it had always worked to calm Nick down when he got upset about something. Weirdly, Jesse wasn't buying it. She tried again. "Its nothing you need to involve yourself in."

Jesse was firm. "You're not going anywhere without me."

Gabby gave a heartfelt sigh and turned back towards Sal. "Do you mind if he comes?"

Sal watched Jesse carefully and took a drag off her cigarette. "I don't care who comes, so long as I get paid." She watched as Gabby nodded and walked down the stairs to her mysterious workroom. Sal threw up an arm and blocked Jesse's way before he could follow her, the nonchalance gone.

"I know how to choke a man with his own shirt." She turned to Jesse and sucked another drag off her cigarette. Jesse tried to shove his way past her and Sal gave him a smirk. He tilted his head and realized that the two men playing a game of chess were no longer playing. They were standing and watching him, waiting for his next move. "And I have Lyme in the basement." Another drag. Jesse knew, just by looking at Sal – this was her house and he would play by her rules, even if he didn't know what they were, yet.

Jesse clenched his fists, his entire body wanting to go into fight mode, despite the fact that he knew he was outmatched. Since learning that Gabby was in serious trouble, and not throwing a spoiled rich wife tantrum, something primal in him had woken up. Something that told him to protect her at all costs. His nostrils flared and he leaned down to meet Sal nose to nose, not caring about what she or her patrons could do to him. Not if she was going to keep him from Gabby. His voice was grave when he spoke again. "I only want to help her."

To his surprise, Sal raised her arm and let him pass. Right as he began to move past her, she met his gaze dead-on and gave him a conspirator's wink. "Haven't you ever heard the road to hell is paved with good intentions?"

***

"I swear, she was completely faithful." A terrified man sat in the wingchair in his living room, looking up at a furious Nick. Marcus, the man being interrogated, had been hired for one thing and one thing only. To follow his Gabrielle and to ensure that she stayed committed to Nick.

To date, all of Marcus' reports had been mundane. Gabrielle went to the store. Gabrielle was learning how to paint. Gabrielle was learning Ukrainian.

That part had touched him.

But, in every single one of Marcus' reports, 'Gabrielle has taken a lover', had never been a subject line. As far as the man hired to watch his wife was concerned, Gabrielle was as innocent as the driven snow.

Nick leaned forward, his dark eyes flashing. "Then why the hell is Lucia telling me that she took off with some man yesterday?" Nick was furious. On discovering his missing wife, he'd opened his own investigation, complete with every henchman at his disposal. He'd always had Gabrielle watched and she'd never disappointed him. She didn't cheat; she didn't flirt. She seemed entirely oblivious that other men existed at all.

He shot a furious look at his housekeeper. "Tell it again."

Lucia clutched her napkin she'd been using to nervously clean his dining room table, despite the fact that it was spotless. "A man came to the door. He said something about the mailbox. Gabrielle left with him."

Nick growled in frustration and grabbed a vase that had been sitting on the table. He studied it for a moment and then suddenly, tossed it across the room, watching in mild satisfaction as it smashed against the far wall. Everyone but Grigor flinched. Then, as quickly as his temper tantrum had started, it was over. He turned back to his quarry, Marcus, looking strangely calm. "So he destroyed my mailbox and stole my wife?"

Marcus leaned forward in his chair. "Mr. Yakiv, I swear, she never gave any indication." Marcus swallowed as Nick's furious eyes landed on him. "She only went shopping yesterday. I never lost sight of her once. She went to a few stores and then drove back home." Marcus let out a nervous laugh. "I could even tell you every single one of the Christmas presents she got for you."

Nick considered his statement. "Christmas presents?"

Marcus nodded, desperate to make his boss understand. "Yes. As far as I could tell, she was shopping for you all day yesterday."

Nick swallowed as an idea started to form. "What time did she come home?"

"Around three. The housekeeper tried to help her unpack, but Gabrielle wouldn't let her. She took all the bags she had and went back inside." Marcus took a deep breath. "After that, I left, because it looked like she was home for the night anyway."

He focused his dark gaze on Lucia. "It is true, Mr. Yakiv. She brought in gifts for you, but wouldn't let me help. I think she was going to hide them."

Nick cleared his throat. "Hide them where, Lucia?"

Lucia watched him nervously, still twisting the napkin in her hands. "In the attic, I think."

Nick's eyebrow shot up. It couldn't be possible. He met Grigor's eyes and nodded towards the second floor.

Grigor followed close behind him as he headed for the second floor. "Do you really think she saw?"

Nick didn't answer him. Instead, he yanked down the attic ladder and ascended before Grigor could cut in front of him. The room had been cleaned, the body removed, but still, the metallic scent of blood clung. He looked around for a hiding place and his gaze fell on the brown slatted folding door of a closet that he and Gabrielle had never used. It was too inconvenient.

With Grigor hot on his heels, Nick yanked open the sliding door. Inside, he found a haphazardly stacked pile of presents. The arm of a brown wool sweater was dangling out of one of the bags; a new set of golf clubs was sticking out of the other. In the middle of the massive mountain of gifts, he saw a small indentation. It was just the size of Gabrielle's curvy body. He pulled the door shut and peered through the slats to confirm his suspicion.

His wife had seen everything.

Chapter 3

Gabby focused a self-conscious look at Jesse. She was frightened over the reason she needed Sal's counsel and she was hesitant to let anyone else in on her secret. Truth be told, she'd gone to Sal because she knew Sal could be discreet. The last thing she needed was Jesse getting involved in her nightmare. She stretched to make herself comfortable in the plastic beach chair Sal had offered and finally gave up. Jesse wasn't going anywhere.

"I need to disappear." She heard Jesse suck in a breath and ignored it.

Sal, at least, seemed less concerned over her statement. Instead, she filled a shot glass full of 151 and shoved it at her. "Don't we all."

Gabrielle swallowed, not wanting to share more of the story. She considered pushing the shot away, and then elected to take it. Feeling a little braver after she swallowed the fiery liquid, she went on. "Listen, it's because..."

Sal held up a hand. "Trust me, if there's something that makes you need to disappear, the less people you share it with, the better." Gabby took another shot Sal offered gratefully; relieved she wouldn't have to share her nightmare story. "I'm assuming you're looking for credentials?"

Gabby tilted her head quizzically as she coughed over the 151. "Credentials?"

Sal let out a sigh. "You are not cut out for a life of crime." She took her own shot and went on. "Credentials. Passport, driver's license. All that jazz."

Gabby nodded.

Sal stretched and stood. "Mooki, we got a job."

Gabby spun around as a bleach blonde surfer boy appeared out of nowhere behind them. He clutched a bong in his hand and brought the distinct smell of marijuana with him. "What's up?"

"We are in need of your artistic abilities."

"Dig it." He took a hit off his bong. "Passport, driver's license? The whole shebang?"

"The whole shebang, times two. We need a male and a female."

Gabby put up a hand. "I only need one." She gestured to Jesse. "He's not coming with me."

Sal eyed Jesse. "Shame." She met Gabby's eyes again. "Regardless, they're both for you."

Gabby was confused.

"You clear customs as a male. People are less likely to look at you if they're looking for the wrong gender." She gave a nod to Mooki who went off to begin his work. "You arrive in Costa Rica a female. It's like you never existed at all." She gave another wink. "Trust me; if you're looking to disappear, you've come to the right girl. According to the IRS, I died four years ago!"

Gabby took another deep breath, and another, and another. Soon, she was gasping. Somewhere, she heard someone say she was having a panic attack. She vaguely felt Jesse press a hand into her lower back. A bag was shoved over her face and she breathed into it gratefully, the sound of crumpling paper finally drowning out the sound of the electric carving knife.

"That's right," A hand continued rubbing small circles into her back. "You're doing good. You're doing real good. Just keep breathing." The world around her started to come back into focus and she could feel Jesse's lips brushing against her ear. She felt a small tremor of excitement at his closeness that she tried to shake away. Developing a crush was the last thing she needed. His hand continued to rub her back in small circles that relaxed her. She felt safe. For the first time since she'd found out her husband was a murderer, she felt safe.

"Thanks," She gasped out as she sat back up again. "I'm sorry. Just... everything got to be too much."

Jesse watched Gabby's pretty face in concern. She was white as a sheet and her eyes were tight. He could tell she was trying to be brave, but that she was bone tired and terrified. "It's ok." He caught her chin and tilted her face towards his. "No one is going to let anyone hurt you, ok?"

Gabby nodded and went back to breathing into her paper bag. He could feel Sal's red-rimmed eyes burning into the side of his face. But this time, when he looked up, her expression wasn't filled with skepticism or suspicion. Instead, it looked like something akin to amused admiration. She waited until Gabby was under control before she spoke again.

"Do I need to do something besides getting you tickets?"

Gabby shook her head in confusion, clutching the paper bag in her hand. "What?"

"Are you in more trouble then disappearing can help?"

Gabby shook her head again. "No, I don't think so." Her face took on a stubborn set. "No, I'm sure. But I need a fake passport. Not tickets to anything."

"Tickets are fake passports. If you're going to embark on a criminal life, you could at least try to learn the lingo," Sal admonished her. "They'll be ready in two days." She caught Gabby's horrified look and gave a sad smile. "Sorry; if I could do it sooner, I would. But that's just how long it takes for Mooki to make credentials that can fool a government official." She gestured towards the door. "Of course, you're welcome to stay here until that time."

Both Jesse and Gabby watched as a rat the size of an overweight tabby skittered across the floor. Gabby gave a tense smile.

"I'm sure we'll be fine." She let out another deep breath along with another clutch of her brown paper bag. "What do I owe you?"

Sal shook her head. "No charge."

"Sal," Gabby looked at her in shock. "I insist."

Sal shook her head. "Nope, I owed you a solid."

"I gave you a three-block ride!" Gabrielle raised her head off Jesse's shoulder and he watched her with amusement. "That is not worth ten thousand dollars' worth of forged credentials!"

Sal quirked her lips. "So you haven't forgotten everything I told you?" She let out a sigh. "Favors are worth whatever I decide they're worth." She pulled a business card out of her wallet. "I will see you in two days."

Gabrielle took the business card and stopped arguing. No one had ever won an argument with Sal, and no one ever would. She had no illusions that she would be the first. "Fine, but I'm giving to charity in your name."

"Do what you feel, pretty Gabby." Sal winked again. "Just don't forget to come back if you need me."

***

Jesse held Gabby carefully as she climbed into the passenger side of his jeep. The trip to the Strangely Sober had taken a lot out of her. The whole day had taken a lot out of her, and she was starting to look drained. He brushed her hair out of her face and buckled her in, feeling oddly protective.

"Where to now?"

"There's a motel down the street that will let me pay in cash. You can drop me there."

Jesse's hands tightened on the steering wheel. "I'm not leaving you alone."

Gabby let out another sigh. "Listen, Jesse, whatever you did to me in high school, you've completely made up for it after this crazy night." She pressed her face against the glass of his passenger side window as she absently wondered what her new life in Costa Rica would be like. "Just drop me off and move on. Trust me; you want no part of my crazy life."

Jesse's grip got even harder. "Until you've actually remembered what I did to you, and until you've actually punched me in the face for what I did to you, I consider my debt unpaid and I'm clinging to you like a barnacle." He caught her tiny hand just as it was flying at his face. It was like being attacked with butterfly wings.

Jesse gave her a stern look. "First, that was adorable. Remind me to teach you how to throw a decent punch later." He pushed her hand back onto her knee. "Second, the punch in the face doesn't count if you don't remember me." He flicked on his turn signal. "And third, when you do decide to punch me in the face, please don't do it while I'm driving." He could feel Gabrielle seething from the passenger seat and had to hold in a chuckle. She was cute when she was mad.

Finally, she calmed down. "So where are we going?"

"I'm getting us a room at a place that doesn't rent by the hour."

He could practically feel the tension pouring off of her. "I'm married."

"I know." And he'd already decided that they were going to discuss that situation further as soon as he got them settled in a room. Whatever she was running from, her husband was at the dead center. There was no way he was getting his hands back on her. "You're safe with me, ok?"

Gabby felt his hand drop to her knee, but she had no desire to push it off. If his only ulterior motive was forgiveness for a crime she couldn't' remember, then she was fine with that. All she cared about was that when he told her she was safe, she believed him

***

"She was spotted in Liberty City."

Nick sucked in a strangled breath. "Please tell me you're joking."

Grigor shook his head sadly. "She was seen there with a man who matches the description of your pool cleaner. We think he gave her a ride."

"Into Liberty fucking City?" Nick slammed his hands down on the table. "That's the most dangerous part of Miami!"

"She wasn't there long. Only for a meet with the Salvatori crew."

"The Salvatori crew?" The suggestion did nothing to soothe him. The Salvatori crew was small-time, but vicious. He knew that Gabby had a sort of friendship with their lead, but he'd chosen to discourage it. Angelica Salvatori, who Gabby called Sal, was rumored to be more than a little unbalanced. He thought of his fragile little Gabrielle, terrified by what she had seen, racing along for any kind of help she could get.

"She was in and out in less then twenty minutes. With the pool cleaner."

Nick clenched his fists. "I want her returned to me. I want her returned to me unharmed and I want the pool cleaner dead for taking her." He shot an icy cold look to his second in command. "Do you understand?"

Grigor nodded wordlessly and moved on to do his master's bidding. It was going to be an interesting week.
Chapter 4

"Was he abusive?" Jesse rolled onto his side to appraise Gabrielle's response. They were staying in a mid-range, family-focused hotel chain in a much less scary part of Miami than Liberty City. He'd gotten them a room with two double beds. Gabby had wanted separate rooms at first, but Jesse had talked her out of it. He wanted her to stay close.

Gabrielle laid on her own bed, her eyes on the ceiling. She sighed. "No." She shook her head negatively. "He could be a little intense, but he never hit me or anything."

"But you're changing your identity and fleeing the country to avoid him?"

Gabrielle rolled onto her side and focused her gaze on Jesse. "Listen, that part, Sal was right about. The less people who know, the better."

Jesse folded his arm behind his head and decided to let the issue drop for awhile. He'd get it out of her eventually. Instead, he went for a subject change. "How does someone like you get tangled up with someone like Sal, anyway?"

Gabby smiled at the memory. "I met her about three years ago. I was driving past a renaissance fair and she was being chased by a group of villagers with pitchforks and torches." Gabrielle snorted. "It was kind of surreal. I slammed on my brakes and let her in the passenger seat. I'm not even sure why I did."

"Please tell me you're making this up?" Jesse was leaning forward with interest.

Gabby shook her head negatively. "Nope. Turns out, she was having one of her 'episodes'. She tried to organize a hostile takeover of an imaginary kingdom."

"One of her episodes?"

"Yeah," Gabby rolled onto her back. "She's insane."

Jesse shot to a seated position. "Literally?"

"Paranoid schizophrenia."

He turned towards Gabby, his face serious. "And you're going to her for help?" He shot up from the bed. "Jesus, Gabby! How much trouble are you in that you're going to a crazy person for help?"

Gabby crossed her arms over her chest and refused to look at Jesse. "She's not always crazy. Just sometimes. Most of the time, she's normal." Her brow wrinkled. "Well, not really normal, but as normal as she can get."

Jesse had started pacing the room. "How do you know that she's even going to come through? How do you know that she can help you and get you out of the country?" He sat again, this time, on Gabby's bed and she leaned up on her elbows to see him.

"Because she's done things like this before. All the time. It's what she does." Gabby lay back down. "Making a couple of ID cards for me is nothing."

Jesse leaned towards her again, trying to get her to look at him. "Gabby, what kind of trouble are you in? You're getting fake ID's so you can leave the country. You're consorting with criminals?"

Gabrielle snorted. "Says the guy who ran over my mailbox and drove away. That's a federal offense, you know."

"I didn't run over your mailbox!" He grabbed Gabby by the upper arms and gave her a rough shake. "Do you have any idea how stupid you're being?"

Gabby's eyes flashed with anger. "I'm not stupid." She shoved her way back. "Yeah, I might not be the smartest person in the world, but I'm not an idiot."

Jesse sighed and shook his head. "That's not what I meant, Gabby." He gave her shoulders a squeeze. "I just don't think you're thinking clearly." He released her and turned so he was seated next to her, his head pressed against the headboard of the bed. "Have you thought that maybe if you told someone, they might have other ideas?"

Gabby shook her head. "I can't tell anyone. They could get hurt, too."

"I'll never tell anyone. No one ever needs to know that I know." When she stayed silent, he went on. "Anyway, if anyone was watching, they're going to think I know, regardless. Think about it. You left in my jeep, after your housekeeper saw you talking to me. It won't take long for anyone to find out who I am."

Gabby let out a gasp and her eyes suddenly clouded with tears. "I didn't even think of that. Oh, God, Jesse, I'm so sorry." She sprung out of the bed. "I have to get out of here. I'll go back to Sal. Jesse, you need to leave town. You need to leave town tonight." Her eyes were racing around the room, searching for things that belonged to her. Then she remembered; she had nothing. She made a dash towards the motel room door and hadn't even made it a foot before Jesse's arm was snaking around her waist.

"I'm assuming that means you remember what happened in high school, then?" Jesse muttered against her ear as he pulled her back against his broad chest.

"What the hell are you talking about? Let me go!" She struggled to break free, but his grip was like iron.

"That was the deal. You remember what happened, you forgive me for it, I let you go. Until then, you're not going anywhere."

"Damn it Jesse!" She struggled in his grip until she was facing him. She pulled back a hand to hit him and he caught it before her wild punch connected.

"I really need to teach you how to punch."

Gabby glared at him with hate in her eyes. She lifted a dainty foot while he was focused on her face, still looking amused, and slammed it down on his instep as hard as she could.

"Ow, Fuck!" Jesse yelped as he released her. "Well, at least you know how to do that right." He plopped down on the edge of the bed and began rubbing his foot.

"This is bigger than high school, Jesse. This is bigger than a couple of insults and fat jokes. This is the kind of big no one can help me with."

Jesse glared at his foot as he peeled off his sock. A bruise was already starting to form. "Well, maybe they could, if you would tell them what's going on."

Gabby threw her hands up in the air. "Fine, you want to know, Jesse?" Her heart was pounding and when she managed to push the words out, they came out like a jerky burst of gunfire. "My husband is a Ukrainian mobster and when he finds me, he's going to kill me." She threw a wild gesture at Jesse, "And probably anybody I'm with."

Then she passed out.

***

When Gabby awoke, she was staring at an eggshell-white motel room ceiling. There was a cold cloth on her neck and someone was talking to her in a low, soothing voice. She blinked once, blinked again and tried to focus.

"Welcome back." Jesse started rubbing her forehead with the cloth and she looked up at him stupidly. "So how did you lose the weight?"

Her brown eyebrows crumpled in confusion. "What?"

"The weight." Jesse reached over to an ice bucket and dipped the cloth in the water again. He squeezed it out and put it back on her forehead. "You've dropped at least eighty pounds. How'd you do it?"

Gabby sat up and pulled the cloth off her forehead. "Atkins." She handed the cloth back to Jesse. "You're not going to ask about my husband being a Ukrainian mobster?"

Jesse shook his head. "Nope." He dropped the cloth back in the ice bucket. "The way I see it, you've already been through enough. Truth be told, I already kind of figured out the whole 'Ukrainian mobster' angle anyway."

"Really? How?"

"Well," Jesse turned and picked up the ice bucket to dump it in the sink in the bathroom. "You live in a gigantic house in Miami with a wealthy Ukrainian man who has no definable career."

Gabby flopped back against the pillows. "I am an idiot."

Jesse smirked as he returned to the room with the empty ice bucket. "No you're not."

"Really?" Gabby glared at him skeptically. "Then why am I the only person on the planet who apparently had no idea that my husband was a criminal? He was right. I am an idiot."

Jesse sat on the bed next to Gabby. "Again, no you're not. You're very smart." He smiled. "You're just a very sweet woman who only expects the best from people. Also, if he was calling you an idiot, then I'm glad you left him. No one should treat you like that."

Gabby's face heated up and she was surprised to find tears prickling her eyelids. "Why are you being so nice to me?"

Jesse stood and let out a sigh. "Because you're nice. You've always been nice. Even in high school, when most people were complete pricks to you, you were still nice. I just think you deserve someone being nice to you for a change." Jesse crossed his arms over his chest. "I made a mistake with you before. I really hurt you, even if you don't remember it. The way I see it, this is karma. Karma brought me here for a reason and that reason is to help you." Jesse's serious eyes met hers. "I won't force you to stay here if you don't want to. If you want to take off into the night, I wouldn't blame you. But if you do decide to stay, then know that I'm here and I'm not going to let anyone hurt you. Ok?"

Gabby nodded. She couldn't speak over the lump in her throat and she didn't trust herself to, anyway.

"Now let's talk about something else" Jesse was uncomfortable with tears. "Something that doesn't make you choke up every five seconds." He plopped back down on the bed next to her. "How'd you do all this?" He gestured in her direction.

"Do all what?"

"Go from angst-filled chubby teen to smokin' hot supermodel."

For the first time in hours, Gabby let out a genuine laugh. "My mom had an insurance policy. After she died, I got this fixed." Gabby gestured at her nose. "While I was recovering from the nose job, I lost my appetite and fourteen pounds. I decided to just go with it and kept dieting." Gabby leaned back on the pillows. "My family never had much money. We had to rely on non-perishable, starch-filled food to keep us fed." She gave Jesse a knowing look. "When you're eating mac and cheese four times a week, it's hard to lose weight. When my mom passed, she left an insurance policy that paid out fifty thousand dollars. After I paid her doctors' bills, there was still thirty five left. It was more money than I'd ever seen in my life."

Jesse stretched out on the bed beside her and Gabby stiffened. "Relax, I know you're married. I just want to listen and lay down at the same time. I won't try anything."

Gabby nodded, even though she was weirdly disappointed. "Anyway, with so much money, I decided that I could move to anywhere I wanted to go. I picked Miami. Being from Massachusetts, I always liked the idea of having a summer that never ended. I got my nose fixed and lost the weight. I was working as a bartender when a guy there offered me a job in the VIP room of his club. It was a great opportunity, because I was taking classes during the day." Gabby let out a nostalgic sigh. "I was going to be a veterinarian."

Jesse leaned up off the pillows. "You worked in the animal shelter in high school." He thought back to the way Gabby's eyes would light up when she talked about the animals there.

Gabby nodded. "I've always loved animals. They're a lot easier to figure out than people." She smiled ruefully. "Anyway, it was working out well for me. I only had to work a few hours a week and I could spend the rest of my time studying. Then one night, some really rich guy came in. Instead of wanting me to wait on him, he wanted me to sit at his table. So I did."

"I'm assuming the really rich guy is now your husband?"

Gabby nodded. "I was really nervous at first. I kept spilling things and apologizing. Nick was surrounded by all these beautiful girls and I didn't know how to act around him." She shook her head. "He told me I was charming. Invited me out to dinner. Two months later, we were married. I always wondered what he saw in me."

"What do you mean?"

"He could have had anyone he wanted. Instead, he chose me." Gabrielle's expression turned bitter. "Turns out, I was just some beautiful idiot. All he wanted was pretty babies."

"You're not a beautiful idiot." Jesse informed her firmly. "Well, you're beautiful, don't get me wrong. But you're not stupid, so please stop saying that."

"How do you know?"

"What?"

Gabby leaned up on her elbow and stared at him intently. "How do you know I'm not stupid? You barely know me."

Jesse laughed. "Well, you're not stupid, but you have a terrible memory." He took in Gabby's questioning look. "You tutored me in biology for the last six months of my senior year. If it wasn't for you, I wouldn't have graduated."

Then it came back. Gabby remembered back to high school. A handsome dark-eyed boy she'd had a crush on. She'd been a year behind him in school, but Mr. Steer, her Advanced Biology teacher, had begged her anyway.

"He's going to fail without you, Gabby."

"Damn it, Mr. Steer, I'm a doctor, not a scientist!" They'd both laughed over her nerdy Star Trek reference and she'd agreed, because she liked Mr. Steer. And because Jesse was right. She was nice.

She'd met him every day after school in the science lab. Thirty minutes every day of her explaining the finer points of biology and going over his homework with him. At first, he'd been angry and sullen over being forced to hang out with the fat girl in class when he could have been partying with his popular friends. But she'd always been nice. Over time, she thought they had become friends. They'd laughed together. They'd made jokes together. She'd developed a little crush on him, but she knew it was hopeless. He was the handsome, popular football quarterback. She was the dumpy intellectual. It was such a fucking cliché.

Then came that day in the cafeteria. It was right after he'd passed his final exam and was about to graduate; thanks to her. He'd come up to her with a beautifully wrapped pink box.

"Gabby," He'd looked nervous and she'd wondered why. He'd already passed all his tests.

"Yeah?"

His friends were around him snickering. She didn't know why; she only knew that Jesse was acting weird.

"I wanted to ask you a question?"

Gabby had nervously reached for her backpack. "Is it about biology, because I don't have my..."

Jesse had cut her off. "No. It's about prom."

"Prom?" Prom had been her fantasy. She'd seen every John Hughes movie but she'd never allowed herself to hope. The girl didn't get the guy, no matter how many times the script said she did. No way Jesse Turnblatt, the king of Essex High, was asking her to prom.

"I want you to come with me."

Her heart had stopped. Her eyes had filled with joy. Jesse Turnblatt was asking her to prom. "I...I'd love to Jesse." Her voice had cracked with emotions. She'd never been so happy.

Jesse had cleared his throat. "Good, because I got something for you to wear."

Gabby had gasped. In all her fantasies, she'd never expected it to go this far. She'd always pictured herself picking out her own dress, magically dropping five sizes and dazzling Jesse in the doorway of her mother's two-bedroom trailer. She'd rushed to open the box, plopping it on the lunch table. The lunchroom had gone still in anticipation. All her dreams were coming true. Then, after ripping off the pretty pink paper, she'd been dashed back to reality. She opened the box.

Inside was a paper bag with two dark, black eyeholes cut out.

Jesse's mocking voice echoed in her ears. "Because the only way I'd ever go anywhere with you is with a bag on your head."

Gabby's ears had started to ring and she had felt her face burning red. All she could hear was the cruel laughter of everyone in the senior class; their mocking looks intensified Jesse's insult. Her eyes had filled with tears and she'd raced out of the lunchroom with their laughter following her. Echoing. Echoing louder than a carving knife. Echoing in a way that makes you take the first available man that makes you feel beautiful. Echoing in a way that messes you up for life. Echoing in a way that makes you black out the bad parts, because when the cruelest joke was played, your mother was already dying of cancer and you couldn't handle anything else.

Gabby sucked in a gasp as she was dragged back to the present. Jesse, the same Jesse from high school, watching her with eyes filled with guilt. It was guilt he deserved. Gabby pulled her elbow back. She untucked her thumb. She shoved her fist out again, directly at Jesse's nose. She threw the punch with all the weight in her body. And she felt the satisfaction as she felt it connect.

It was wonderful.

"Fuck you!" Gabby screamed as she pulled up from the bed. All of Jesse's pretty words were forgotten. All she could remember was the humiliation in the cafeteria. Well, she wasn't that fat little girl anymore. She was beautiful and she would never deal with his taunts gain. "Fuck you."

She didn't even remember running. She could feel the door closing behind her. Slamming behind her. She could hear his desperate plea.

"Gabby come back!"

But she was never coming back. She was never coming back because she was never going to be the girl she had been before. Jesse was right. She was nice.

As far as she was concerned, it was a massive character flaw.

***

She hadn't even made it to the parking lot when she realized she had no idea where to go. Sal had offered to let her stay at the Strangely Sober, but Gabby knew that if Nick found her there, Sal wouldn't just turn her over. She'd probably start a war. Even seriously outnumbered, the Salvatori crew would never go down without a fight. It was just how they were built.

She didn't want anyone to get hurt because of her. Well, except maybe Jesse...and Nick. And she probably wouldn't mind if Grigor were to suffer an injury or two.

Gabby looked around uncertainly. They were in a tourism-heavy area of Miami. There were plenty of other motels, but she didn't have a dime on her. All she had was a passbook to her savings account, completely useless until the banks were open in the morning.

She focused her gaze at the bright lights of the strip, alive with music and bars that catered to tourists. With no destination in mind, she began walking towards them. She had no idea what she was going to do, but she would think of something. She had to.

As always, she was on her own.

Chapter 5

Jesse stared in the mirror and flinched in pain as he put his nose back in the right position. Gabby's wild attack had packed a powerful hit. He decided he no longer needed to teach her how to punch.

Jesse sighed, wondering what to do. She'd obviously remembered who he was and there was no way she wanted anything to do with him. He was afraid to leave her alone. She was fragile. She was sweet and she definitely didn't deserve the life she'd been given.

"Fuck," Jesse muttered as he plopped down on the bed, holding a cold cloth to his nose to reduce the swelling. The punch didn't bother him the way her expression had. Those sad, grey eyes, looking lost, betrayed. He'd betrayed her and he'd never gotten over it. Apparently, she hadn't, either.

Now, she was on the run from a man trying to kill her and she didn't have any of the necessary equipment to take on the fight. Jesse wondered if she'd go back to Sal, but he doubted it. She wouldn't want her friend to get hurt.

He'd wanted to go after her when she ran out of the room. He'd started to follow her, but stopped, realizing he was the last person she wanted. He still wanted to go find her, drag her back to the room and keep her safe, even if she didn't want him to. But he thought logically. She was scared enough. Upset enough. He didn't want to bother her further.

"But if she doesn't know I'm there." Jesse stood up and looked in the mirror. He'd have a bruise in the morning and a slightly crooked nose in the future, but he looked ok enough to go out in public. He'd follow her. If she needed him, he'd be there. If not, she'd never know he was there. Jesse stood and grabbed his keys.

She couldn't have gotten too far on foot.

***

Gabby nervously pushed the door open. She picked the quietest bar she could find. It was a takeoff on an Irish pub; dim, dark, mahogany paneling and classic rock. She'd hoped she'd be able to at least get off the street, hide for awhile. She flinched a little as she realized the place was filled with college kids. Gabby ducked her head and pulled off her hood as she tried to sneak her way to the bathroom. Maybe she could hide out in one of the stalls for the evening.

"Wow, hello."

Gabby ducked her head a little harder, hoping someone hadn't recognized her. She focused her eyes on the bathroom door, where an old-timey carving indicated it was for 'lassies only'.

"Wait!"

Gabby gasped and took a step back as her way was blocked by a big blonde man, who was barely more than a boy, bouncing in front of her like an exuberant puppy. "What?" She glared at him and he gave her a dopy smile.

"Are you here with someone?" He was tall, wearing a hat that proudly displayed he was from the University of Central Florida. His smile was wide and his eyes were unfocused. He'd clearly had one too many drinks.

"I just needed to use the bathroom." She shoved her way past, hoping she wasn't looking at a drunken confrontation already. He moved out of her way easily and gave her a good natured smile as he did.

"Weird. Don't you guys usually go in packs?"

"What?"

"Girls. I thought you all went to the bathroom in groups?" He swayed awkwardly and Gabby reached out a hand to steady him. "Thanks."

"No problem." Gabby watched his face. It was open and honest, and a little ditzy. He seemed to be the harmless type. "You ok?"

He nodded drunkenly. "I cele...celebr...celebretating." He let out a drunken hiccup. "I'm twenty-one."

Gabby smiled as she remembered her own 21st birthday, which had ended with her drunkenly vomiting in the parking lot of a Miami Denny's. "Congratulations." She smiled at him and started to walk by again.

He reached out and caught her elbow. Gently; not enough to cause her alarm. "Me and my friends have a table, if you need somewhere to hang out."

Gabby considered her options. She could hide out in a bathroom stall or she could at least have a warm seat at a table around a group of people. Being around people felt safer to her. "I changed my mind about the bathroom. Where are you guys?"

The drunk 21-year-old smiled happily and caught her by the hand, leading her back to a table where four other guys around his age sat. Everyone in the group smiled as she approached.

"Jesus, Kyle, talk about birthday wishes." A dark-haired man leaned over to give him a high five. Kyle drunkenly missed it by a mile.

"Birthday wishes?" Gabby was confused.

"He wished for a smoking hot redhead that looked just like Jessica Rabbit" The dark-haired man gave her a once over. "You're dead on."

Gabby smiled happily. "You think I look like Jessica Rabbit?"

The dark-haired man nodded. "Only not a cartoon, which makes you even more awesome." He leaned down and smiled. "What are you drinking?"

Gabby felt herself blush a little. "I'm not. I don't have any..."

Kyle cut her off and wrapped a drunken arm around her shoulder, leading her to a seat at the table. "I'll pay for it. I saw her first."

The dark-haired man glared. "But I offered first." He reached out a hand and gave a charming smile to Gabby. "I'm Matt."

Gabby smiled. "Gabby." She reached out to shake his hand and Gabby laughed out loud as he nearly gasped when he touched her. She'd been around these kind of guys before. They were nerds. She loved nerds. Nerds, she could handle. She had been one at one time, after all. "I don't think so. I'm not really looking for a hookup. You don't need to waste your drink money on me." She felt like she was back at her old lunch table in high school, with the guys who talked about Mystery Science Theater and argued about whether Batman or Superman would win in a fight.

Kyle leaned over against her and spoke directly in her ear. "We don't need one from you. It's a biological law of attraction. Hot girls want what other hot girls have. As you're the hottest chick in the bar, we'll soon be flooded with ladies."

Matt nodded. "So the fact that you don't want to hook up only makes it better. You can hang out with us and be hot girl bait."

"Hot girl bait?"

The men at the table nodded in agreement. "Yeah. Having someone as pretty as you will make other girls come over, too. They'll be more comfortable. Think we all work at Microsoft or something."

"Hmph," Gabby considered her options. She looked at the table full of college boys watching her hopefully, and didn't have the heart to hurt their feelings. "Then I guess I'll take a cosmopolitan."

One hour and three cosmopolitans later, Gabby was laughing with the group like they'd been friends since birth. They'd been right about the hot girl bait, as well. Gabby's presence at the table seemed to attract other attractive woman. A bedroom-eyed brunette was draped over Matt's lap as he pushed another Cosmo at her.

The brunette stared at her chest in amazement. "Is that a vintage Greenday shirt?"

Gabby looked down at the shirt she wore to dye her hair in confusion. "It might be. I've had it for years."

"Oh my god," the brunette gasped in amazement. "I've been looking for one of those for years." She reached for her purse. "I'll give you a hundred dollars for it."

Gabby's mouth felt slack as she stared at the girl. A hundred dollars for a used shirt she'd spent the day sweating in? Gabby shook her head. "I don't have anything else to wear."

The brunette nodded at the bar. "They're giving out shirts for a wet t-shirt contest."

Gabby shook her head. "I'm not getting in a wet t-shirt contest. My husband would kill me." Somewhere in her blurry haze, Gabby remembered. Her husband actually was tying to kill her.

The brunette widened her eyes. "Why not! Your tits are perfect." She looked down at Gabby's chest. "You'd probably win."

"Really?"

The brunette nodded emphatically and the people at the table started cheering her on. Gabby took another slug of her drink. "Where do I get one of these shirts?"

***

Jesse was pretty sure his jaw had dropped so hard it had actually unhinged when he'd walked into a tiny Irish pub called O'Flannery's. O'Flannery's was a desperate attempt to look like an Irish pub without looking like it was trying to look like an Irish pub, and it had been the last place he decided to look for Gabby, after going to every bar in town and coming up empty.

He'd found her. He was supposed to stay hidden, but he was frozen to the floor in shock. Gabby was standing center stage and accepting a prize of $500 after winning a wet t-shirt contest. She was wearing a white t-shirt with the bar name, "O'Flannery's" draped over her left breast and the shirt was damn near invisible after being sprayed down with a water bottle. People were screaming for her like she was a rock star.

She was a rock star. Jesse felt his mouth go a little dry as he stared at the girl he'd known since high school. She was perfect. She was jumping up and down and making every guy in the bar swoon as she waved her prize around.

"Gabby?" Her name came out like a croak.

Gabby finally spotted him and her eyes widened. She gave him a happy smile and jumped down from the stage, causing her chest to jiggle in a way that made the MC for the contest immediately propose. "Jesse!"

Jesse let out another gasp as she flung herself into his arms, soaking the front of his shirt. He didn't care. She felt incredible. He took advantage of her drunken moment and gave her a squeeze. "Oh my God!" She shrieked in his ear. "I'm having so much fun."

A dark-haired man with a beautiful brunette draped over him wandered past. "You are one lucky bastard."

The pretty brunette on his arm gave a bleary nod. "Don't be mad at her. I told her to do it. Her tits are perfect."

Gabby nodded. "The trick is growing up fat and losing a bunch of weight." Gabby shot him a drunken glare. "You wanna put a bag on my head now, fucker?" She slumped against him and Jesse smiled. Gabby was definitely wasted.

"I never wanted to," he muttered in her ear. "But we'll talk about that when you're sober." He looked down at her tiny, stumbling, soaking wet frame. "You want me to carry you?"

Gabby gave him a drunken nod and wrapped her arms around his neck. "The room won't stop spinning. Make it stop doing that."

"Ok," he lifted her easily. She was light and her curves made her fun to carry. "Five hundred dollars, huh?"

Gabby shook her head as it lolled against his shoulder. "Six hundred. That pretty girl bought my Greenday t-shirt." She raised her head and looked down at herself. "Only now, I don't have anything to wear and this one is all wet for some reason."

Jesse chuckled. "You can have one of mine."

Gabby gave a drunken smile, looking mollified. "Ok."

Jesse carried her out the door to his jeep and pulled open the passenger side door. "Has anyone ever told you you're adorable when you're drunk?"

Gabby shook her head as well as she could without making the jeep spin as Jesse tucked her into the passenger seat and buckled her in. "Nope. I don't get drunk a lot." She slid her gaze over to him. "You think I'm adorable?"

Jesse nodded as he gunned the engine. "Incredibly."

"You wanna have sex?"

Jesse sucked in a breath and had to resist the urge to tackle her. "Very much." He gave his passenger, encased in a tight, white, wet t-shirt a thorough once over. "More than anything, to be honest. But I'm not going to."

Gabby pouted, managing to look even cuter. "Why not?"

Jesse sighed, "Because you're drunk and you'll hate me in the morning."

"Oh Jesse," Gabby laughed. "I already hate you! What does a little more hatred matter?" She snorted and left her head drift to the right so she could look out the window. "The very least you could do is get me off."

Jesse felt like he had been punched in the stomach. "You hate me?"

Gabby snorted. "Why wouldn't I?" Her expression went bitter. "Get in my shoes for once. Your mother is dying. Your home is filled with nothing but the smell of death, the sound of death. The little noises she makes when the doctor is taking yet another bone sample. You know she's trying not to scream from the pain. She's doing it for you. But you want to scream for her and you can't. You go to school and people treat you like a monster because you dare not to be perfect. You don't weight ninety-five pounds and you don't have a perfect button nose." Her eyes slid to him. "Then, you finally meet someone you trust. You spend thirty minutes a day with him and it's the best thirty minutes of your entirely miserable day." She straightened in her seat. "Then, the only person you trust humiliates you in front of the entire school for no more reason than you dared to have a crush on him." She rolled her eyes. "You wanna try that day for a change, Jesse? Will that help with your selfish little guilt problem."

Jesse's heart clenched and his hands tightened on the steering wheel. "Gabby..."

"You know why you feel guilty, Jesse?" Gabby's voice was getting stronger and anger was making her buzz wear off. "Because you deserve to. I know your excuses and I know your reasons. Your popular friends were making fun of you. They were teasing you about your relationship with the fat girl. Instead of being brave, telling them to fuck off, you decided to destroy me." Gabby smirked. "Well the joke was on you, Jesse. The joke was on you and now you're living it." She reached for the door handle as they pulled into the motel parking lot. She shoved her door open, damn near sober and fully ready to walk off into the night again. "Because I've always been brave and you don't even know what the word means." She slammed the door shut, feeling self riotous and powerful. She stomped around the Jeep without hearing Jesse's response, fully ready to go off on her own.

And walked right into Grigor's arms.

***

Jesse heard Gabby's harsh intake of breath and realized what had happened. There was a black Town Car parked behind his jeep and he hadn't even noticed them pull up. He'd been too busy being berated by Gabrielle...and a little heartbroken over the fact that she hated him.

Now, a man who was easily twice his size and triple hers was wrapping his arms around her. He spoke, with just a hint of a Ukrainian accent, to a man behind him. "Take care of the pool boy. I'll get Mrs. Yakiv in the car."

"Pool boy?" Jesse muttered. He watched as a smaller man raised a gun and trained it on him. Jesse ducked just in time to avoid the bullet. He could hear Gabby shrieking as she struggled in the other man's grip. The man began to drag Gabby towards the back seat of the Town Car.

Another bullet shot off the pavement in front of him and Jesse ducked down further. He could still hear Gabby's struggles. His fists tightened as Gabby let out a yelp of pain. Jesse stood. He ignored the smaller man looking at him in frightened alarm and, instead, focused on the larger man, who was trying to shove Gabrielle into the backseat of their car.

Jesse squared his chest and he ran. Just as the man was shoving her into the car, he tackled him with all the weight in his body. The man was forced to let go of Gabrielle.

"Gabby, run!" Jesse yelled at her as he tackled the man to the ground. He didn't turn around to make sure she had done as he told her to. Instead, he began pummeling the larger man with his fists, his hands making a meaty thud every time they connected. Jesse nailed him in the face and felt the blood spray his arm. He'd broken the bastard's nose. He threw another punch, nailing him in the eye socket, and another and another until the man had stopped struggling. Jesse stopped punching, realizing that the bastard was unconscious.

He stood. The smaller man was still holding a gun on him but had yet to fire a shot. He could see the fear in his eyes.

"Are you going to shoot me or not?" Jesse took a menacing step towards him, aware of how grizzly he looked covered in blood. The man took a step back and dropped his gun, throwing his hands in the air in a gesture of surrender.

"That's what I thought. Where did she go?" The man pointed towards the back of the motel and Jesse ran in that direction. He cut down the only alley behind it, making a sharp right at a chain-link fence. He cut down yet another ally, following the streetlights. For some reason, knew that Gabby would have followed the streetlights when she ran. Finally, after running for what felt like hours, he stopped under the dim orange light of a parking lamp. He gasped to catch his breath and wiped off his forehead with his arm. As he was gasping for air, he heard a whisper behind him.

"Jesse?"

Jesse let out a gasp of relief and raced to where Gabby was crouched behind a dumpster, hiding and watching him with wide eyes. "Gabby, honey. I told you to run," he admonished her gently, at the same time feeling relieved that he found her.

"I called Sal." Gabby pointed to the convenience store across the street. "I figured it was a sign when the guy let me use his phone."

Jesse thought back to the psychopath he'd met earlier. "I don't know if bringing Sal into this is a good..."

Jesse didn't get to finish his sentence. Just as he was about to, a Chevelle squealed to a stop in front of them. The passenger side window rolled down and a bleached blonde head popped out.

"Well, are you guys coming or not?"

***

Gabby's eyes widened as she realized what was in the passenger seat. "Is that a llama?"

Sal snorted. "Of course not." She gave the animal's fuzzy head a pat. "I could never fit a llama in my car. This is a baby alpaca." Sal smiled and turned her attention back on the road. "I named him Russell."

Jesse focused on the animal, who was now glaring at him. "And you're driving an alpaca around why?"

"Well, he couldn't very well drive himself, now could he?"

Jesse turned to Gabby. "This is the woman who is going to help you flee the country?" He turned back to the alpaca in the passenger seat in time to watch it rear back its head and spit. A glob of goo smacked into the back seat window as Jesse ducked. "Why the hell is he gagging up brown stuff?"

"Careful," Sal gave Russell's head another pat. "He gets very territorial. He thinks I'm his girlfriend." Sal tilted her head. "Or mother. I'm not sure which. If it's mother, I sincerely hope he doesn't expect me to breastfeed." Sal's eyes got wide. "Did you see the size of those teeth? My nipples would never survive." Sal waved her hand at them as she saw headlights approaching. "Get down."

Jesse and Gabby didn't need to be told twice. They both ducked in the backseat as low as they could. "She's fucking insane." Jesse hissed at Gabby. They both held their breath as Sal slammed on the brakes, clearly having been cut off by someone. They heard Sal let out a swear and roll down the window.

"Evening Salvatori." Gabby stiffened as Grigor's voice filled the car. "What's got you out on this side of town so late at night?"

"What's it to you, Lurch?" Gabby had to hold in a giggle. Grigor did look a little like Lurch.

Grigor's voice was tight when he spoke again. "Look, I...What the fuck is that?" Grigor had spotted Russell.

"Alpaca."

Russell let out a weird, keening snort.

"Wouldn't happen to be the same alpaca that those Columbians have been looking for?" Grigor's voice was slightly amused. "The purebred one that's worth over a hundred grand?"

"Nope," Sal's voice was nonchalant. "Completely different one. An invisible one, if you get my drift."

Grigor chuckled. "You know, those same Columbians lost a peacock they were smuggling a few months back."

"Weird."

"Yup, really weird." Grigor leaned in the window. "It would be a shame if they found out who kept stealing the animals they were trying to smuggle."

Sal sighed and Jesse tensed. Would she turn them over to save her own ass? He tilted his head as Sal began to speak again.

"It would be a shame if a certain Ukrainian got blown to hell when he was trying to set up a meet with a bunch of Columbians. You wanna talk to them about me; be my guest. We both know you'd never leave their place alive. Ukrainians and Columbians are like vinegar and water"

"You mean oil and water?"

"Nope, vinegar and water. Just like douche bags." Sal tapped her steering wheel impatiently. "Now can you get to your point and move your fucking car? I need to get this thing home before it shits all over my passenger seat."

Grigor let out a defeated snort. "I need to know why Gabrielle Yakiv was at your bar tonight."

"How the fuck should I know?" Sal gestured to the alpaca. "I was out stealing this thing."

"That wouldn't take all night."

"Have you ever tried to cram an alpaca into a Chevelle?" Sal let out a laugh. "Listen, my guess would be that Gabby was at the bar to see my brother."

"Your brother?"

"Yeah, Mooki." Sal stretched in her seat. "He's an artist. Gabby asked him to do a picture of her a few weeks back."

Grigor sounded confused. "A picture."

"Yup, a portrait. Supposed to be a gift for her husband."

"So Gabrielle Yakiv was at your bar to check on a painting she was having done?"

"That would be my guess." Sal started to roll up her window. "Or she was getting her money back for it. I don't think Mooki had even started it, yet. Now if you'll excuse me."

Grigor sighed and stepped back from the car. "Fine, but if you hear anything," Grigor shoved a slip of paper at Sal, "contact me. There's a reward out."

Sal looked at the slip of paper. "A reward, you say? Well, we both know how much I love money." Then, to Gabby's surprise, Grigor laughed and walked away from the window. A few seconds later, Sal was driving again. Both Gabby and Jesse waited.

"All clear."

They both popped up in the backseat, breathing hard.

"I take back what I said," Jesse informed Sal. "You're not insane. You're a genius."

Gabby was worried. "Won't they check with Mooki?"

"Nope," Sal shook her head. "Lurch is just going to assume that you went to Mooki to get your money back so you'd have an escape stash. The Salvatori crew is officially not related to your disappearance and I have dried up their only lead." Sal smiled proudly. "I'm a world-class liar. So where to? I have to get Russell to a meeting."

"Well, we wouldn't want your alpaca to miss his appointment." Jesse turned to Gabby. "Where are we going?"

Gabby frowned and glared at Jesse. "I'm still mad at you. I don't care where you go. I'm going with Sal."

"Neato, we can have a sleepover, braid each other's hair and talk about boys and stuff." Russell let out a wail. "Fine, you can come, too."

Russell snorted.

"Gabby..." Jesse tried to reach for her hand and she yanked it away, glaring out of the backseat window and refusing to meet his eye.

"Uh oh." Sal's slightly unbalanced gaze focused on the rearview. "We got company."

Gabby spun around in her seat. "Oh, god. It's Grigor, isn't it?" She watched as a yellow Monte Carlo began approaching them at a high rate of speed.

Sal shook her head. "Nope, these fuckers are here for me." She met Gabby's questioning look. "The Columbians." Sal slammed her foot down on the gas and the car shot forward. Russell's long neck snapped back against the passenger seat and he let out something close to a hiss. "I was kind of in the middle of my own high-speed chase when you called me."

Gabby screamed as the Monte Carlo caught up to them and rammed into the rear bumper. Sal let out a swear and jerked the wheel hard to the left. She reached out a hand and popped open the glove compartment. "Hey handsome, you're a wannabe marine, right?"

"Yeah, how'd you..."

She tossed a gun back at him. "We'll discuss my amazing powers of observation later. For now, shoot them." Sal jerked the wheel harder and spun a u-turn in the middle of the road. The Monte Carlo slammed on its brakes and began to reverse, clearly not expecting a frontal assault.

Jesse looked at the gun in his hand and then looked to Gabby's terrified face as she clutched on the rear of the passenger seat to avoid being tossed around like a rag doll. Without another thought, he slammed the butt of the gun into the window, shattering the glass. Then, he pushed his body halfway out and began firing. His first shot took out the windshield and the Monte Carlo's tires squealed as it continued its backwards race to get away from Sal's approaching Chevelle.

"Go for the tires," Sal yelled over Russell's panicked snorting and spitting.

Jesse listened. He dropped the site on the glock low to the ground, led the car slightly and fired. He watched in satisfaction as the front driver's side tire exploded and the Monte Carlo began rocking out of control. He fired again and took out a rear tire. The Monte Carlo began to slip. Sparks shot up from the pavement as the rims of the exploded tires scraped the road. The Monte Carlo listed to the right and crashed into a telephone pole, coming to a jarring stop.

Sal let out a whoop of joy from the front seat as she raced past the wreckage. "Nicely done, Jarhead. You do this often?"

Jesse let out a gasp and stared at the gun in his hand. "Nope, I can honestly say that this is my first high-speed chase."

Sal smiled and took the gun back, reducing her speed to normal now that the threat was passed. "Well, you'll get used to it. Welcome to Miami."

"Thanks." Jesse shook his head. "So how'd you know?"

"The wanna be marine thing? Your haircut is terrible, you're built like a brick shithouse and you called me ma'am. You wanted to be a military man at some point. You learned all the protocol. The only thing that kept you back was your color blindness." Sal smirked. "Russell doesn't spit up 'brown stuff'. He spits up 'green stuff'. Stomach acid, to be specific. It's a very distinctive color...except to someone who is color blind. Someone who's color blind wouldn't be able to tell the difference."

Jesse sat back, stunned. "You noticed all that?"

Sal winked. "I'm not just crazy; I'm also a genius." Sal turned her focus to Gabby. "Is she gonna hyperventilate again? I'm out of bags."

Jesse realized that Gabby hadn't spoken in awhile and he turned to her. She was watching him with open astonishment. "How'd you do that?"

"Do what?"

"Shoot out their tires like that?"

Jesse gestured to Sal. "Training for the marines, like Sal said. I did weekend classes before enlistment, part of a military prep class. Then I failed the vision test and that was that."

"How'd you get away from Grigor?"

"I kicked his ass." Jesse's brow crumpled in confusion. "How do you think?"

Sal let out a laugh from the front seat. "So you're the person who crushed Grigor's nose? Jesse, I got to tell you, I'm really starting to like you. His face looked even worse than yours. Not too many people can say that after a fight with Grigor."

Jesse smirked. "Actually, Gabby did this."

Sal burst out laughing, and weirdly, it sounded like Russell was laughing right along with her. When she finally calmed down, she started speaking again. "Listen, guys, not that you two aren't truly entertaining, but me and Russell have some planning to do. I know a motel. Safe part of town, you can pay in cash, and it's meth lab free. You want me to bring you there?"

"You did that for me?" Gabby still looked astonished. "Why?"

Jesse sighed. "Because I like you. And I owe you. You were the only reason I graduated high school and I repaid that by betraying you. As far as I'm concerned, all the crazy shit that's happened since I met you is karma paying me back for that. So I'm going to help you, even if it means getting my ass kicked, getting spit on by a llama..."

"Alpaca," Sal corrected.

"Getting spit on by an alpaca and taking on the entire Ukrainian underworld." Jesse caught Gabby's hand and gave it a squeeze. She didn't try to pull away. "I just want to help."

Gabby blinked then slowly, nodded. "Ok," she finally decided. "Ok, you can help. Sal? Can you bring us?"

"You got it." Sal flicked on the directional and made a right turn to bring them to the 'meth lab free' motel.
Chapter 6

"What the hell do you mean she got away?"

Grigor sighed and nearly rubbed his eye, before he remembered how swollen it was. "The pool boy has an excellent left hook." He cleared his throat, nervous with his boss' silence. "I did track down Sal from the Salvatori crew, though. "Doesn't look like the wops were too heavily involved. Mrs. Yakiv just went there to get her money back for a painting she was having done for you."

Nick nearly hissed into the phone. "She returned one of my gifts to get money to run away from me?"

"That's what it sounds like."

"Grigor, perhaps you didn't understand my wishes initially. I want my wife returned and I want the pool boy dead, great left hook or no. If you are unable to handle that, I will find somebody who can." Nick took a deep breath. "Unfortunately, that means I will have to terminate your employment. You understand what that means in this business, correct?"

Grigor swallowed, remembering a carving knife. "I understand."

"Good." Nick clenched the phone. "I'll expect her back no later then tomorrow evening, then. See that it happens." He hung up the phone without waiting for an answer.

"Bad news?" Grigor glared at the driver of the Town Car, Marcus. He let out a sigh and placed the icepack back on his forehead.

"Nothing new. My boss is a dick."

***

Gabby winced at the same time Jesse flinched as she placed and icepack on his nose. "I'm really sorry."

Jesse held the icepack to his face and let a hand drift to Gabby's hip. "No worries. I deserved it."

Gabby shook her head. "No you didn't. Listen, that stuff I said, before Grigor attacked us..."

"Was completely right." Jesse pressed the icepack on his face harder, laying back against the pillows. "I was an idiot in high school. Believe it or not, I really liked you." Jesse peeked out from under the icepack to watch Gabby's reaction. "I just didn't know what to do about it. When my friends started making fun of me, I got pissed and I took it out on you. My life was never the same after that day."

Gabby picked up the icepack to examine his eye. "What do you mean?"

Jesse tried to not stare at her chest as he continued. "Bad luck started following me around." Jesse thought back. "On prom night, the night that I should have been with you, I took some idiot named Brittany, instead. She was so damn obnoxious; I just started drinking to avoid her talking."

"I remember Brittany. Cheerleader, right?"

"Yeah," Jesse nodded. "Anyway, we went to her brother's place, because he was over twenty-one and could buy beer. I got wasted and decided to be the big man by driving everyone home." Jesse shook his head bitterly. "I didn't even make it out of the driveway before I backed into a tree. No major damage, but I tore my ACL in the accident. I lost my football scholarship."

"Jesse, I'm so sorry."

Jesse shook his head empathically. "Nope, I deserved it. I didn't deserve a football scholarship after what I did to you." He sat up straight in the bed and the icepack dropped off his face. "Instead, I tried to join the marines. Like Sal said, even they didn't want me. I'm color blind. Then, I traveled around for a bit. I tried to go back to college, but I couldn't afford it and I couldn't get financial aid. I tried boxing, but after six months, even the worst doctor wouldn't let me in the ring. Every time things started to go right, something would happen to make them all go bad again. After awhile, I thought maybe it was the universe's way of getting back at me. Every time I thought something was going good, I'd just flash back to your sad, grey eyes and everything would turn to shit again. So, when I was driving by Miami, I decided to drop in and see you, just to tell you I was sorry." Jesse gave a rueful smile as a sudden thought occurred to him. "Are your eyes really grey, or am I wrong about that, too?"

Gabby smiled gently. "No, they're really grey."

Jesse leaned closer and started to stroke her cheek. "I knew it. I knew I couldn't be wrong about that." He let out a nostalgic smile. "You always had the most beautiful eyes, even when the rest of you wasn't beautiful."

"That's kind of a dick thing to say."

Jesse shook his head, realizing he'd gone the wrong way. "Not like that. I mean, even though you weren't the prettiest girl in school, I liked you anyway. I liked you more than those other girls and I felt weird about liking you that way. So I got mad. Then I did that thing to you, and it destroyed me, in more ways than one. My life will never be right until I make up for that day."

Gabby pulled back in surprise. "Have you always felt this guilty?"

Jesse nodded.

"Listen, Jesse," Gabby sighed. "My entire life wasn't defined by that moment. I had good times and I had bad times. After a while, I forgot about you entirely and went on with my life. I made my own decisions." Gabby shook her head. "I'm sorry you feel bad for the way my life is now, but it's not your fault. Even if it was, I wouldn't trade it."

"You wouldn't?"

"No." Gabby laughed as she remembered her first few years in Miami. "I had fun. I made a lot of great friends. I learned you can make mistakes and reinvent yourself. I learned that destiny isn't pre-determined. You create it yourself. I would have never had the bravery I needed to walk away from the town we grew up in if I'd thought there was anything left for me there. Instead, I did and I got to lead a pretty interesting life." She caught Jesse's hand. "High school is only four years of your life, Jesse. It doesn't decide who you are. You do."

Jesse was looking at her oddly. His eyes dropped to her mouth and her forehead crinkled in confusion. Suddenly, he lurched out and latched onto her, his lips meeting hers. She let out a little squeak at the start of the kiss, but as the warmth enveloped her, she wrapped her arms around his neck. She pressed her mouth to his, harder, and parted her lips, encouraging him in.

Suddenly, Jesse pulled back. "I'm sorry. I don't know what I was thinking." Jesse pushed away. "I know you're married. I just keep thinking you shouldn't be."

Gabby let out a gasp, still breathing heavy over their very brief kiss. "What do you mean?"

Jesse sat next to her on the bed, still watching her lips. He was hesitant for a minute, but finally spoke. "You should have been mine."

"What?"

Jesse shook his head. "It's so damn clear now. Your asshole husband should have never got his hands on you in the first place." Jesse leaned in close to her ear. "You were supposed to be with me. It wasn't karma telling me to find you. It was fate."

"Jesse, I..." Gabby let out as gasp as Jesse tackled her, his mouth pushing down on hers insistently. For a second, she was frightened, but after a moment, she gave in. He was what she'd wanted all along, after all. She wrapped her arms around him and pulled him closer. She started pulling at his shirt. "You promised me a shirt."

Jesse raised his mouth from hers for a second. "Did I?"

"I want this one."

Jesse chuckled as she ripped the shirt from his body. "Ok." He sucked in a breath as her fingernails grazed his chest. "You want the pants, too?"

Gabby nodded and he moved his hands to oblige her.

***

Gabby awoke in a sweaty tangle of limbs. Jesse's body was draped over hers, his arm wrapped around her waist in the same possessive way Nick always held her.

Gabby knew the difference. Jesse wanted to be with her. Nick thought of her as property.

She studied his sleeping, handsome face in the darkness. His arm reached out for her, even though she wasn't there. He snatched the pillow she'd been sleeping on and cuddled it close.

She blinked over the tears that were starting and walked across the room to the phone on the table. She had no choice. She hadn't missed the words that Grigor had spoken.

"Take care of the pool boy."

Gabby shook her head. She knew enough of the underworld terminology to know that 'take care of' did not mean Jesse was getting a bowl of hot soup and a warm blanket. Jesse's guilt, his crazed belief in karma, would drive him to do anything for her, but she wasn't going to let that happen. Instead, she was going to make sure he was safe, even if it meant sacrificing herself in the process. Because she loved him. She'd always loved him. It only took one night with him to remember how much.

She picked up the phone. She could endure Nick. She would live with her own night in the attic; accept the pain that he would instill on her. After what she'd seen, it would only take a few hours, probably less. She was decidedly less oblivious to pain than Luka. She could live with a few hours of pain before she died, as long as he promised one thing. That he would leave the pool boy alone. She gave Jesse a gentle glance as she put the phone to her ear. He would love again and he would find someone again. She could do that much for him, after everything he'd tried to do for her. She could do that one thing for him before she stopped breathing altogether. She was scared, but she would be brave. She would be brave for him, and someday, she would meet him in heaven.

Gabby flinched as her husband's gruff voice answered on the first ring. "Nick, I'm ready to come home...but I have a couple of conditions."

***

"You have no idea how pissed off Mr. Yakiv is."

Gabby rolled her eyes as Grigor shoved her into the backseat of a Town Car. She'd accepted her fate, as long as Jesse was safe. True to his word, Nick had left Jesse alone, on the condition that Gabby return home immediately. "I have a general idea." Gabby answered dryly. "I'm assuming it involves a carving knife." Gabby wasn't scared. Nick couldn't hurt her now. She was in love and she was keeping the man she loved safe. Nothing could hurt her. She was bulletproof.

Grigor looked at her strangely in the rearview. "We'll see about that." Marcos was seated next to him and refused to meet her eyes.

She was dead. And she was weirdly ok with that. She let her gaze drift as she was driven through the familiar orange blossom field she'd become accustomed to. The night was light, thanks to the full moon. As they left Miami and headed to the suburbs of the city, the starlight grew. Gabby wondered if she would be able to see it from the attic window. She wasn't afraid. She was feeling strangely stoic about her impending death. As long as Jesse was all right.

"We're home." Grigor announced as he stopped the car. Gabby sighed. Her night of fantasies was over and the pain would begin soon. She didn't struggle as Grigor dragged her out of the car. She didn't protest or fight. She wasn't even afraid as she saw Nick's silhouette appear in the doorway of the home she'd once loved. She was only apathetic and ready for it all to be over with.

"Gabrielle." Nick let out a breath and snatched her by the shoulders, studying her closely. "Look at me."

Gabby glared at Nick, trying to make sure her obvious hatred of him showed through. "What?"

Nick glared at her. "What do you mean what? Do you have any idea how worried I've been?"

"Whatever," Gabby shoved her way past him. "Let's get this over with."

"Get what over with?"

Gabby sighed. "The part where you murder me with a carving knife in our attic." She turned towards the stairs. "Let's get this party started. I don't have all night."

Nick shook his head. "Gabby, I would never do that to you." He moved to grab his young wife and she flinched away. "You've been nothing but loyal to me." He sighed as he dragged her against his chest. "I know what you saw was scary, but you need to believe me; I wouldn't do that to you."

Gabby tried to shove away, but Nick held tight. "Wait, you're not going to kill me?"

Nick let out a laugh. "Why would I do that?"

"Because of what I saw."

Nick gave her an indulgent smile. "And did you tell anyone what you saw?"

"Well, no but I thought..."

"That was your problem right there." Nick gave her a kiss on the forehead. "Thinking." He gave her a gentle pat on the bottom to shove her up the stairs. "Go to bed. We'll talk about it in the morning."

Gabby shook her head in confusion, but continued her way up the stairs. So Nick wanted to kill her in the morning. Whatever. She was dead inside, already. Gabby sighed and went to bed like Nick told her to.

***

Nick watched as Gabby sullenly went up the stairs to their room. She seemed different now that she'd returned – agitated, angry and not more than a little defiant. He shook his head. He would take care of whatever attitude problem Gabby had developed in the morning. For now, he had other things to deal with. He turned and focused his angry eyes on Grigor. "Now get back to the motel and finish the pool boy off."

"You told Mrs. Yakiv..."

Nick nearly growled in frustration. "What I tell my wife is none of your business." He took an angry step towards Grigor. "That pool boy took something that belongs to me. I do not take kindly to others touching my property." He shot a look up the stairs. "He also crushed my mailbox. That's two items I own that he's damaged.

***

Jesse's eyes widened as he walked into the Strangely Sober. When he'd woken in the motel room and found a goodbye note from Gabby, he didn't waste time going to her house. Instead, he knew that he needed help of another kind. The kind of the criminal variety. He'd gone back to see Sal, hoping she hadn't left town. yet. She hadn't, but she'd obviously had a very busy night after she'd dropped them off. The Strangely Sober had been a mess before, but now it was a zoo.

Literally.

There were animals everywhere. Exotic ones. A toucan perched on a barstool, next to a bowl of food. Russell, the alpaca, was chewing a plastic bottle he'd found near the pool table. At least four different breeds of monkey hung from the rafters and a snake was winding its way across the floor. The woman he was looking for sat on the bar, legs crossed Indian style as she studied a laptop screen. There was a large tropical bird perched on her shoulder. She reached in the bowl in front of the toucan and pulled out a piece of food, which it snapped up immediately. Sal then popped one in her own mouth before she finally looked up from the computer. "Hey Jesse."

Jesse let out a laugh, unsure of where to begin. "I thought you were splitting town to hide from the Columbians."

Sal spun around and, as she did, the bird flew off her shoulders. "I was going to, but then I decided 'in for a penny, in for a pound' and went back to steal all their animals, instead." She gestured towards the bar. "Hence, the current state of my establishment. Can I get you anything? Beer, whisky?" She held up the bowl the toucan was eating from. "Fruit Loop?"

"You're feeding a toucan fruit loops?"

Sal shrugged. "Everything I know about animals, I learned from cereal commercials and Looney Toons episodes. Take a seat," she gestured towards the floor, "but mind the tiger."

Jesse sprung off of the barstool as he saw what was sleeping on the floor less than a few feet away from him. "You stole a fucking tiger?"

"Well yeah," Sal held up a box. "Who did you think the frosted flakes were for?" She smiled at Jesse's hesitation. "Relax. All the dangerous ones are drugged out of their minds. Anastasia won't be waking up any time soon."

"You named the tiger Anastasia."

"She's a lady tiger." Sal looked towards the door. "Speaking of ladies, where's Gabby?"

Jesse shook his head as he slumped back down onto the barstool, man-eating lady tiger forgotten. "That's why I'm here." Jesse yanked a piece of paper out of his back pocket. "She left this for me this morning."

Sal spread out the piece of paper on the bar in front of her and read Gabby's messy, cursive script out loud.

Dear Jesse,

Last night was wonderful. I really missed you and it was great to see you again. But being with you made me realize how much I love my husband. I know he's not the best person in the world, but he's been good to me and I think we can work it out. I'm going home. Please don't come looking for me.

I'm sorry for everything I got you involved in. It wasn't right to drag you into my problems. In any case, it might be a good idea if you leave Miami.

Good luck with everything and I hope you have a wonderful life. You're a very good person, even if you don't think you are. In case you were wondering, your apology is accepted and I forgive you for everything...including running over my mailbox.

Your Friend,

Gabby

p.s. thanks for the shirt

Sal looked back up at Jesse as she finished. "So in general, you two did the dirty deed, Gabby had some morning-after regrets and went running back to her husband." She shoved the paper back at Jesse. "I'm sorry, but if you're looking for relationship advice, I'm the last person in the word that can help. I broke up with my last boyfriend by stabbing him with a fork."

Jesse shook his head as he took back the 'Dear John' letter. "She's lying."

"How do you know?"

Jesse folded the paper as he shoved it in his back pocket. "In high school, I showed Gabby a note I forged from my parents for senior skip day. Gabby laughed and threw it out, and then she rewrote it for me. She told me my handwriting was 'too perfect' and that if you were going to tell a lie, it was best to write messy. That way, it looks like you didn't think about it too much." Jesse shook his head. "Gabby's handwriting is usually perfect. I've seen it. It's like damn calligraphy."

"Yeah, she's got a bit of OCD."

"She thought I wouldn't remember her trick. She wanted to make the note look genuine, like she was just some spoiled rich wife going back to her husband after a weekend adventure." Jesse's eyes darkened. "I know better. She was terrified of him."

Sal let out a humorous laugh. "Of course she was terrified. He's a Ukrainian mobster, for gods sake."

"Gabby didn't know that."

Sal's eyes got wide. "She didn't?" Sal shoved her way around the bar. "Of fucking course she didn't. I wasn't here to tell her that when they got married." Sal smacked herself in the forehead. "I barely even knew they were dating. When I got back from hiding out after the whole peacock thing, they were already married."

"Peacock thing?"

Sal gestured to the animals in the bar again. "This is an ongoing thing. I was distracted."

"With animal smuggling?"

Sal snorted. "Please. There's no money in animal smuggling. This is about diamond smuggling." Her eyes widened excitedly as she said the word 'diamond.'

"Diamond smuggling?" Jesse spun around on his barstool as Sal walked across the bar. She reached for Russell and gave him an affectionate scratch on the neck.

Sal nodded. "I discovered it purely by accident. I was at the docks, doing a little business of my own, when my 'business' got snatched out of my hand and eaten by a peacock in a shipping crate. So I did the only reasonable thing anyone would do and stole the peacock. Decided to disappear for awhile afterwards because I wasn't sure if anyone saw me. So me and the peacock are living it up in a beach shack in Southern California and I'm waiting for the peacock to do his business, so I can get 'my business' back, if you know what I mean."

"I'm not sure that I do."

Sal rolled her eyes. "I was waiting for the peacock to take a dump." Sal raised a hand. "Only, when the peacock finally did, it wasn't just my two diamonds that came out. Four more did. I realized then that either I had a bird that shits diamonds, or I had a smuggling operation on my hands." Sal started to pace. "So I looked into it a bit more and I found out some interesting stuff. For example, this bird, among many others, was being shipped from a zoo in Africa to a zoo here called the Sanctity Zoo.

"So?" Jesse was confused.

"So," Sal emphasized, "The Sanctity Zoo doesn't exist! It's just a really clever way to smuggle conflict diamonds from Africa to America without anyone being the wiser." Sal laughed out loud. "Exotic Animals don't have to go through the same security exams when they're being shipped from zoo to zoo. They're fragile, and tend to die when subjected to things like exams and x-rays. So some clever fuckers started training the damn things to eat diamonds. That way, it just looks like a zoo animal being shipped to a zoo, the smugglers collect their diamonds and no one is the wiser. Unfortunately, I was in the docks the same night a rare peacock was being shipped in. I was there with two diamonds, waiting to pay off some guys I know for a shipment of plastic explosives. The fucking thing ate my payment out of my hand while I was waiting. It saw the diamonds in my hands and snatched them up like they were a damn treat, because that's what it had been trained to do." She gestured around the bar. "Every animal in here has been fed conflict diamonds. Usually, when they get here, the assholes will just kill them or send them off to some third-rate zoo. I'm rehabilitating them and collecting the diamonds for my effort. I find zoos in the area that actually take care of their animals and I turn them over free of charge." Sal smiled as she petted Russell again. "Everybody wins."

"What does this have to do with Gabby?"

"Absolutely nothing." She smiled at Jesse. "Sorry, I have a tendency to get distracted." She looked around at her bar/zoo. "But we might be able to use this to our advantage."

"How so?"

"You probably don't want to know." She reached in her back pocket for her keys. "Now help me get the tiger into the trunk of my car."

Jesse sighed as he stood from his barstool. Sure, she was insane, but she was his only hope.
Chapter 7

Gabby glared across the breakfast table at her husband. Nick had yet to say anything to her about what she'd seen and what she knew. "Are we even going to talk about it?"

Nick gave her an indulgent look and returned to his sports page. "There is nothing to discuss Gabrielle. You're home now. That's all that matters."

Gabby glared at him in confusion. "How can you say that? What I saw..."

"Was nothing more than a business matter and you don't need to worry your beautiful head about that."

Gabby glared again. "My beautiful idiot head, you mean."

Nick sighed and folded his paper, finally giving Gabby his full attention. "I am sorry you took offense at that. I will admit, it was an ill-formed opinion. I was just trying to say that it is not your job in this household to think. It is your job to be beautiful and give me children. Stick to your strengths."

Gabby felt a wave of fury that she'd never felt before. "My strengths? Well, you're right about one thing. I'm great at baby making." Her eyes met his in a dead-on challenge. "Not that you'll ever find out again. But if you're ever curious about how good I am in bed, just ask Jesse. I'm sure he'd be more than happy to tell you."

Nick froze. She had his full attention now. "What do you mean?"

Gabby smirked. "Well, I have to tell you, you might be great at finding someone's weakness, but Jesse kicks ass at finding someone's g-spot. You know what a g-spot is right, Nick?" Gabby waved a hand. "What am I saying; of course you don't. We've been married six months and you haven't found it, yet!"

Nick stood and slammed his hands down on the table, but Gabby barely moved. She was used to his mood swings. "He touched you?"

Gabby wasn't afraid. She'd been waiting to die all morning and Nick's hesitance to kill her was starting to drag on her nerves. "More than once. Judging by my orgasms, he touched me multiple times."

Nick clenched his fists and gave a humorless smile. "Well then I'm glad I had him killed."

Gabby froze. "What do you mean?"

"Dead," Nick's eyes were ice as he marched around the table. "Your little boyfriend is dead. I gave Grigor the order this morning."

Gabby felt her heart stop. She'd thought she was dead inside before, but that was only an illusion compared to the pain she felt when Nick told her Jesse was dead. "You promised..."

"And you promised to love, honor and obey me." Nick spat out. "Just what part of that loving and honoring involved fucking our pool boy?"

Gabby couldn't answer him because she couldn't find words. The boy she'd loved forever was dead and her monster of a husband was the man who'd killed him. If Jesse hadn't felt the need to apologize, if he'd never known her, he would still be alive. It was all her fault. She wanted to die. Dead eyes met her husband's as he came to stand in front of her. "Are you going to kill me yet? Because I have to tell you, every second I'm forced to spend with you is torture."

Nick leaned down over her chair and stared her dead in the eye. "Why would I kill you. Gabby?" Nick leaned in close to her face, twisting her hair around his hand and yanking her head back. "Like you said, if you're so damn good at baby making, let's go try for one now."

Gabby screamed as Nick ripped her out of the chair by her hair, yanking her towards the stairs to their bedroom.

***

"What are you going to do?" Jesse looked around the car nervously. Aside from the tiger in the trunk, their car was filled with exotic African animals. Russell sat between them, as the crazed criminal mastermind seemed to have a weird attachment to her pet alpaca. There were four monkeys in the back seat and a mid-sized boa constrictor winding its lazy way around the passenger seat. The toucan sat in the back window, happily immersed in a bowl of Fruit Loops, and tropical birds perched on both his and Sal's shoulders.

"You probably don't want to know."

"Who's following us?"

Sal peered into the rearview. "I'd know that large sloping forehead anywhere." She smirked at Jesse. "That tail ain't for me. It's for you. It's Grigor and some of Yakiv's thugs. My guess would be that they came to finish you off for what you did to their mailbox."

Jesse nearly exploded. "I didn't smash their mailbox!"

Sal giggled and Jesse was a little thrown off by such a girlish sound coming from such a non-girlish person. "I know. It was totally me." She laughed again. "I went to drop off a wedding present and my hand slipped." She met his incredulous gaze, looking slightly shamefaced. "I am a terrible driver."

Jesse shook his head, feeling more than a little annoyed. "Why am I not surprised?"

"Hey, I'm not the one that fucked his wife."

"Touché." Jesse tossed a nervous look over his shoulder. "So we're really going to take on a bunch of angry Ukrainians; just the two of us?"

Sal nodded. "No way am I telling my uncle that I kidnapped a zoo. He was mad enough over the alpaca." Sal shrugged. "But we'll sort of have help."

"Sort of?" Jesse was getting even more nervous.

"Do you want your girlfriend back or not?" Jesse nodded. "Then yes, sort of." Sal peeked out the window as they pulled up next to a crushed yellow Monte Carlo. "We're here."

"Wait, isn't that the..."

"Yes, it's the Columbians' car." She pointed at the warehouse. "Small-time group. Not affiliated and not locals."

"And what does that have to do with our current situation?"

"I'm using your situation to fix my situation." Suddenly, Sal rammed her hand down on the horn of her Chevelle. After a few seconds, several dark-skinned men popped out of the warehouse. Sal rolled down the window. "Hey fuckers, check out my new menagerie!" She slammed on the horn again. Monkeys began whooping. Birds began chirping.

"What the fuck are you doing!"

"Trying to get them to chase us," Sal announced as she laid on the horn again.

It only took a second for the Columbians to realize what was going on and they began scrambling to get into their own car, a giant brown Escalade. Sal slammed on the gas.

"Remember the gun?"

Jesse sighed and popped open the glove compartment. "You're fucking nuts; you know that right?"

"Yup," She nodded at the car in the rearview. "Do not disable their vehicle," Sal informed him definitely as an Escalade pulled up behind them. "Just keep them interested."

Jesse leaned out the window and began his second round of gunfire in his second Florida high-speed chase.

***

"Get the fuck off of me, you bastard," Gabby shrieked as Nick shoved her down on the bed. She squirmed helplessly as Nick pinned her wrists down to the mattress. His face loomed over hers.

"I thought you were good at baby making, Gabrielle," His voice was mocking and his eyes were amused. "You're so experienced at it, after all."

Nick lowered his head to kiss her and Gabrielle pulled back. She flexed her neck and, just as his mouth started to cover hers, head-butted him with all her might.

"Fuck!" Nick jumped up and stumbled backwards away from her. He touched his lip, where blood was starting to well. "When the fuck did you get so vicious?"

"Probably the day I saw my husband murder someone with the same carving knife that I used to cut our Thanksgiving turkey." Gabby stared him down from the place she was crouched in her marital bed, waiting for his next attack.

"I told you I was sorry about that." Nick sprung and lunged at her and Gabby rolled away just in time to avoid getting caught.

Gabby backed away as Nick started to stalk her around the bed. "Well that just makes up for everything, then."

Nick watched her like prey, breathing hard. "You don't need to concern yourself about business matters. I've told you that already."

"I do when 'business matters' involve you murdering someone's family." Gabby felt tears prick her eyes as she remembered Luka's destroyed expression after finding out his children had been murdered. She backed away from Nick as he advanced on her. "How could you do that? How could you kill innocent people? How could you murder Jesse when all he did was give me a ride?"

"He ran over our mailbox," Nick hissed as he took another step towards her.

Gabby took a deep breath. Nick had her pinned into a corner. "So he deserved to die for that? Did Luka deserve to die like that? Does anyone deserve to die like that? Jesus, Nick, you murdered his family. You killed innocent people for nothing more than business and you expect me to be able to have a family for a man like that?" Gabby shook her head as tears filled her eyes. "I'd rather die. I'd rather die then bring a man into the world that is just like you."

Nick clenched his fists as he glared at his wife, cowering in the corner. Her words had cut to the bone and he had nothing left. "Then I guess you have to."

Gabby met his gaze unfeelingly. "It's about fucking time."

Then, all hell broke loose.

***

Jesse felt a frisson of excitement when he realized that Sal wasn't planning on stopping at the gate. For at least 20 minutes, he'd been exchanging gunfire with an Escalade without intentionally disabling it. Then he'd learned why.

They were going to the belly of the beast.

Sal burst through the front gates of Gabby's gated community, with both a Lincoln Towncar and a brown Escalade hot on their heels. The animals in their car were just coming out of their drugged stupors and the shrieking and whistling was starting to give Jesse a headache.

Jesse tensed as they started to pull up in front of Gabby's house. Instead of stopping, though, Sal did something he didn't expect. She drove through the front doors he'd been standing in less than 48 hours before.

The perfect French doors burst open as the Chevelle plowed through them. They weren't even stopped when Sal shoved open her door and rolled onto the floor. Jesse followed her lead, taking the gun with him. He ducked his head at the Columbians followed them in, their own gunfire and the debris from the crash making the air thick and smoky.

He looked around. Everything was slightly grey with the din of dust and gun smoke in the air. Sal crab walked her way to the driver's side of the door, using the car as cover. Jesse fired blindly, not caring if he was hitting anything, just wanting to keep up the chaos.

Nick hadn't been expecting a full frontal attack, or any attack at all, for that matter. None of his underlings had been in residence at the time and he was pretty sure Grigor had opted to park his car, rather then drive it into the house. Jesse and Sal were crouched beside her car. Men swearing in Spanish fired gunshots at them and they were seriously outnumbered. The Columbians were quickly winning the fight and Jesse wasn't sure what he was supposed to do.

"Ok," Sal smiled, even though she was breathing hard. "I imagine Anastasia is good and pissed now." Keeping low, she moved to her Chevelle and yanked a lever next to the driver's seat of the car, popping open the truck. Jesse waited for a second, thinking that the tiger had been killed in the crash. Just as he was starting to get worried, the lid flew up and about 240 pounds of seriously furious tiger shot out of the trunk.

The Spanish swears quickly turned to prayers. The tiger focused on one of the smaller men in the group and lunged. They heard a collective scream as all the Columbians scattered at once, some disappearing into the house while one jumped in the Escalade and reversed out of the house and down the street, his screeching tires audible even above the commotion inside. Sal turned a mischievous smile to Jesse.

"I think it's time to go get your girl. I'll handle things down here."

Jesse didn't need to be told twice.

***

Gabby backed up against the far wall, flinching as her husband repeatedly kicked the bathroom door, trying to break it down. She'd taken the commotion downstairs as an opportunity to run, but the farthest she had gotten was her and Nick's bathroom, where she had slammed the heavy oak door and locked it behind her.

She didn't know what was going on. Through the door and Nick's furious kicks, she could hear the muffled sound of something that sounded like gun fire and endless crashing. She absently wondered what was going on. The world outside her luxury bathroom sounded like Armageddon. Nick kicked the door again and she flinched. As stoic as she had been earlier, she wasn't looking forward to the pain he would inflict on her. Especially now that she knew what he'd done to Jesse. Her sacrifice had been in vain. Her eyes filled with tears and she forced herself to blink them away. Instead, as Nick gave the door another kick that came dangerously close to breaking it down, Gabby began to scour the room for a weapon. She spied one thing she might be able to use in the soap dish of the shower. A tiny, purple razor. She was just wrapping her hand around the plastic handle when the wood of the door jam finally gave in and burst open.

Gabby spun and watched Nick with wide eyes as he advanced on her. She clutched her razor in a shaking hand and cowered away as he moved towards her.

His eyes were full of fury. "Not so fearless now, are you, you little bitch?" Suddenly, he was on top of her, his hand squeezing her throat. Gabby gasped for air and, in desperation, lashed out with the razor. Nick let out a howl of pain and released her, causing Gabby to slide to the floor. His hand was clutched over his eye and he was bleeding.

Gabby didn't waste time; she raced past her husband, through the broken shards of the door and let out a scream as she crashed into a broad masculine chest.

"Gabby?" Jesse clutched her upper arms and pulled her back a bit so he could look at her. "Are you ok?"

Gabby could barely speak. She stared up at Jesse in wonder. "You're alive."

"Just barely, but a bit heartbroken." Jesse's dark eyes focused on hers. "Why'd you take off on me?"

"Jesse, I..."

"Well isn't this sweet." They both spun to where Nick was coming out of the bathroom, kicking the ruble of the door out of his way, a large gash under his right eye streaming blood. "Your little boyfriend showed up to die with you." Nick took a menacing step towards them and Jesse shoved Gabby behind him.

"Stay the hell away from her."

Nick smirked. "I don't need to worry about her. Grigor can take care of her when he gets here." Nick cracked his knuckles and took a step forward. "You, I can handle myself. It's the least I owe you for stealing my wife," Nick took another step, "and running over my mailbox."

Jesse's eyes flashed in rage. He pushed Gabby back out of the line of fire and met Nick's angry gaze dead-on. "I might have stolen your wife, but I did not run over your mailbox." He lunged at Nick, throwing a punch that caught him square in the jaw and made his head snap back. Nick swore and threw one back and, soon, they were grappling and Jesse was starting to realize he was pretty evenly matched.

Jesse had been trained by six months of prize fighting in the ring and his hits were clean and focused. Nick had been trained on the streets of the Ukraine and his fighting style was street-taught and vicious. Jesse jumped back just in time to avoid a knee to the balls and caught another punch in the face for his efforts. He feinted a right, which Nick easily blocked, and while he was distracted, nailed him in the stomach.

Nick grunted and doubled over, shoving his way back. He stumbled his way to the nightstand near the bed and Jesse took a look at Gabby, hovering behind him nervously.

"Enough of this," Nick grunted. He ripped open the drawer, and pulled out a gun.

"Gabby, get the hell out of here." Jesse cursed himself for leaving his own gun downstairs with Sal. Of course, she was fighting a large group of angry Columbians...and a zoo full of animals, but still.

"I'm not leaving you, Jesse."

Jesse sighed over her stubbornness, starting to walk backwards out of the room. She struggled to get around him, but he wouldn't let her.

Nick gave a cruel smile as he backed them into the hallway. "It's ok; I have enough bullets for both of you."

Gabby's back hit the railing of the stairs and they were forced to stop. She wrapped her arms around Jesse's waist, waiting for the bullet. Then she heard a growl.

"Is that a tiger?" Gabby noticed at the same time Nick and Jesse did. It was surreal. A large orange tiger sat in her upstairs hallway. "Nobody move," She whispered breathlessly. "If you run, it will think you're prey. Just hold still."

Jesse listened. He slipped his hand over hers and squeezed tightly.

Nick didn't. Instead, he turned the gun on the tiger and fired a shot. He missed by a mile and only succeeded in pissing it off. Then, Nick panicked and did the worst possible thing in the world he could have.

He turned his back and ran. The confused beast was immediately in predator mode, focusing its angry eyes on Nick's back. It was on him in only a few leaps, sinking its teeth into his neck.

Gabby held in her horrified scream as she watched her husband getting mauled by a tiger in her upstairs hallway. The blood spurted and, despite the hatred she felt for her husband, she hoped he died on the first bite. He was limp, flopping around as the tiger attacked him and she could only assume he was dead. Gabby began to pull Jesse with her, tugging him towards the stairs. They both backed down quietly and, for the first time, Gabby noticed the bedlam that was going on in the place she'd once called home.

"What the hell?" She gasped as she looked around the room. There were monkeys hanging from her chandelier, birds perched at various points in her house, and what appeared to be a terrified Columbian man peeking out from behind her curtains. The biggest change was the fact that the front wall of her foyer was gone. It had been replaced by a very familiar purple Chevelle.

Jesse smiled wryly. "As you can probably tell, I went to Sal for help when I found out you were gone."

"You went to Sal?" Gabby turned to Jesse with shock on her face. "You? I thought you thought she was insane"

"She is insane," Jesse emphasized as he wrapped his arms around Gabby, "but I would have gone to Satan if it meant helping you."

Gabby tried to pull back. "I think you might be taking this guilt thing a bit too far."

"Gabby..." Jesse didn't get time to finish his sentence because Sal came screaming out of the kitchen, Grigor hot on her heels.

"Rot in hell, you Ukrainian bastard. The Ukraine is nothing more than generic Russia!" Sal let out a laugh and fired in Grigor's general direction, jumping and sliding over the hood of her Chevelle. Grigor stopped mid-chase, frozen in shock to see Jesse still alive.

"Pool boy," he hissed, starting to march his way up the stairs.

Jesse shook his head in confusion as he prepared to do battle with Grigor. "Why does everyone keep calling me that?"

Gabby gave Jesse a once over. "You do look a little like our pool boy."

"Really?"

Gabby nodded, "Older though. And cuter."

"Enough!" Grigor's shout brought them back to their predicament. Jesse started to shove Gabby behind him again, preparing for another fight. Then, Grigor's ascent was paused by the arrival of a new party. The hiding Hispanic man had seen him, knowing the threat of the tiger was gone, and come out from behind the curtains.

"Ukrainian," the man hissed as he came out from behind the curtains, "It was you who is stealing the animals from our operations."

From somewhere beside the Chevelle, Gabby could swear she heard Sal giggle.

Grigor spun, seeming to notice the Columbians in the house for the first time. "What are you talking about?"

Sal popped up from where she was hiding behind the Chevelle. "Hey Grigor," she had put down her gun and picked up something much bigger. "Here's that snake you told me to steal." She held the snake up over her head. Then, suddenly, almost in slow motion, she tossed it in his direction.

Grigor let out a girlish squeal and ducked, but he was too slow. The pissed off snake wrapped its body around his upper shoulders and began hissing and spitting, lashing out to bite him in the face. Grigor began running around in a panic, trying to dislodge the snake, but the more he panicked, the tighter the snake wrapped itself around him and the more it bit. He stumbled and fell to the floor, gasping and choking as the boa constrictor tightened its grip.

"Well," Sal brushed herself off and walked around the car, "That takes care of him." She started to walk towards Gabby and Jesse when the last standing Columbian raised his gun.

"You pay for this, puta." Sal turned and her eyes widened. She'd left her gun on the floor and kept her face focused on the Columbians. Suddenly, there was a loud, keening wail and just as the man was squeezing the trigger, a green glob of goo hit him in the face. The man let out a disgusted shout and reached up to cover his face. "What the hell?"

"Nicely done, Russell," Sal shouted as she dropped to the ground for her gun. Seconds later, she popped up by the driver's side of her car and Gabby managed to close her eyes just in time to avoid watching her put a neat hole right in the center of the man's head.

Gabby appraised the room. There was a car parked in her foyer, a dead man wearing a snake necktie at the foot of her stairs and a tiger eating her husband. "What the hell?"

Sal gave her a charming smile. "We should probably get our stories straight before the cops get here."

***

Gabby sat in the passenger seat of Jesse's jeep as they rode over to the Strangely Sober. The police had closed off her house as part of an ongoing investigation.

During the three hours of questions, Gabby had played stupid. She'd claimed no knowledge of her husband's criminal enterprise and the detectives had apparently bought it. She'd alleged that she'd been hiding in the attic the whole time.

Neither Jesse nor Sal's name had come up. Instead, the police determined that her husband had been attacked by a small organized crime syndicate, after they'd determined that Nick was butting into their animal/diamond smuggling business. Animal control was called in to take care of a large group of animals, including several rare birds, monkeys, a tiger and a medium-sized boa constrictor.

An alpaca named Russell was not among the animal inventory.

The police had told Gabby that she may be called on to testify in court, but weren't sure. All the involved parties were dead. There was probably nothing to testify about.

Gabby had played the role of shell-shocked, slightly ditzy widow well and she was allowed to call a friend to pick her up. She called Jesse, who'd snuck away with Sal only hours before.

"You ok."

Gabby nodded numbly. She was free and she was alive. The events of the day were almost blurry. They felt like they had happened to someone else. "I should feel something," She looked in confusion at Jesse. "I was married to the man for six months. I should feel something."

Jesse rested his hand on her knee. "You're probably still in shock."

Gabby shook her head. "It's more than that. It's like I never felt anything for him." She blinked back tears. "I liked him well enough. I knew he could take care of me, but in six months of marriage, I never felt for him what it took me one night to feel..." Gabby stopped, afraid of saying too much. Jesse was free now, too. He'd more than made up for one horrible insult in high school. "Look, Jesse..."

Jesse put up a hand. "What were you going to say?"

Gabby shook her head again. "It doesn't matter."

Gabby's body shot forward in her seat as Jesse slammed on the brakes. "It matters."

Gabby let out a frustrated groan. "It doesn't, Jesse. It was one night. Sure, I felt something, but I've had a crush on you since high school. I was bound to feel something." Tears blurred her vision. "I know you feel guilty, like what's happening in my life is your fault, but it's not. You don't need to take care of me, anymore. I have friends; they can help me."

"That's not why I'm doing this, Gabby."

Gabby spun towards him in her seat. "Then why? Why are you doing this, Jesse, because I have to tell you, I can't take it anymore. Your guilt is making me feel guilty and the guiltier I feel, the guiltier you act until it just gets worse and worse and I don't know how to make you understand that it's ok now. I'm going to be ok."

"I'm doing this because of what I said that night. You belong with me, Gabby. You always have." Jesse clenched the steering wheel, unable to look at Gabby. "I was an idiot in high school. When you were tutoring me, I was getting more and more attached to you every day. And you stayed so detached, it was driving me crazy. Of all the girls in school, I had a crush on the one who would turn me down for a date for a Star Wars sequel."

Gabby shook her head. "That's ridiculous. You didn't like me like that."

Jesse snorted. "Really?" He glared at her. "I'd been struggling with how to ask you out for a week. Then, when you came in for tutoring, I built up my courage and I asked you to come to my game." He shot her a look, "Do you remember that?"

"Yeah," Gabby nodded at the hazy memory. "You told me you were playing that night. I thought you were just making conversation."

"I wanted you to watch me play," Jesse nearly shouted. "Instead, you told me you already had plans; that you were going to the damn movie. I just wanted you to see me doing something I was actually good at, instead of thinking I was some dumb jock. Instead, you told me that you were spending the night waiting to get tickets to the damn Star Wars sequel."

"It was Episode I!" Gabby shook her head. "You had to wait all night to get tickets to that. It was the only way to do it. Plus, football is boring."

"Well, you're going to have to learn to love it." Jesse didn't give Gabby time to ask what he meant by that. "After that, I was so damn mad at you, and my friends kept making fun of me. I thought it would be perfect revenge – to prove that you wanted me. I played that stupid prank," Jesse blinked back tears and his voice caught a little, "and then I never saw you again."

"The school let me do the rest of my classes from home after that." Gabby whispered. "The semester was almost over, anyway, and my mom was really sick."

"You never told me that. You never told me anything about you."

Gabby's breath hitched. "It was too hard to talk about. Whenever I mentioned it, it just felt too real. We–" Gabby blinked, "My whole family knew she was terminal. But she wanted to pretend everything was normal. Jesse, it was a hard time for me. I barely even knew what I was thinking, myself. And you were the king of the high school. I didn't think you would want me. I didn't think anyone would want me." Gabby sucked in a deep breath. "The truth is, I was crazy about you, but I was too afraid to admit it. For me, things were easier when they were bad. Hope and daydreams just ended in disappointment." She swallowed again. "They still do." Gabby pushed a hand through her hair. "I picked Nick because he was easy. He would take care of me and he was too distant to get attached to. He felt safe. I felt safe. I just couldn't bare the thought of losing someone I loved again."

Jesse reached over, starling Gabby as he clutched her hand. "I'm sorry. I was a selfish asshole. I never thought of what you were going through. I was just pissed that I could get any girl in the school that I wanted, but that I couldn't have you." He pressed Gabby's hand to his mouth. "For years, the look on your face stayed with me. No matter what I'd seen, it was your sad grey eyes that stayed with me. I thought that I just felt guilty. I told myself that you'd gotten ugly and fat when you got older. I told myself you were living in a trailer with eight kids. I told myself anything I could to convince myself that you didn't belong with me; that I hadn't ruined the one chance I'd had at love, because it's true. You're the only woman I ever loved." He ignored Gabby's gasp and kept talking. "I was just going to find you; to see for myself that you were a happy, boring housewife. Instead," he gestured at Gabby, "you were a goddess with a Ukrainian mobster husband." Jesse pressed her hand to his mouth again. "I made a mistake back then, Gabby, but I'm not making it now. I meant what I said that night. You belong with me. You're supposed to be mine."

"Jesse," Gabby choked out the words. "I don't..."

Jesse turned towards her and tugged her into his arms. "I know it's scary and I know that you've been through a lot, but I'm not risking losing you again. I loved you then and I love you now, Gabby. If you need some time to get used to that, I understand. I'll keep my hands to myself. But I'm not letting you go." Jesse shook his head. "Not now that I've found you again. Because I'm right. We belong together."

Gabby swallowed nervously. "Not even for a second during my marriage did I feel the way about Nick that I did about you for one night. That's what I was going to say." Gabby took a deep breath. "I didn't go back to him because I loved him. The truth is I never loved him. But I've always loved you." She pressed herself against him, enjoying the heat from his body. "I've always loved you."

Jesse lowered his head to her. "Well, it's about damn time that you admitted that." He pressed his lips down onto hers and forgot about the past.
Chapter 8

Jesse and Gabby walked hand in hand into the Strangely Sober, their clothes still slightly rumpled from their roadside tryst. Sal's middle-aged uncle was behind the bar, fixing himself a mid-afternoon drink.

"Hey Gio," Jesse squeezed Gabby close. "Where's Sal?"

Gio nodded to the stairway heading to the second floor. "She's upstairs, dying her alpaca."

"Bet that sentence has never been said before." Gabby shook her head and lead Jesse to the staircase. Sure enough, they found Sal cloistered away in her tiny bathroom, towel drying a newly blackened Russell. She smiled when she saw them.

"Russell is in the 'alpaca witness protection program.'" Gabby was surprised to see Sal's lower lip wobble a little. "I'm really going to miss him." Russell let out a keening wail and hacked up one of his signature green loogies. "I won't miss that."

Sal let Russell out of her bathroom and into the kitchen, where they stood with Jesse and Gabby. She reached for a harness she'd invented for Russell.

"Are you sure you want to do this?"

Sal shook her head. "Nope, but he can't stay here. I didn't work my ass off using your husband's organization as a scapegoat, just to lose it all because I got weirdly attached to an alpaca." Sal looked up at Gabby. "You're probably safe in Miami, but I wouldn't take any chances."

Gabby nodded as she took Russell's makeshift leash. She smiled at Jesse. "We'll take really good care of him."

Jesse shook his head. "You knew that Nick would get the blame. That's why you did it. You had the whole damn thing planned."

Sal nodded, "From the second you walked into the bar without Gabby and asked for my help. I knew that I was in over my head." Sal rubbed her forehead, looking tired. "I'd gotten a little, let's just call it, confused, earlier in the day and decided stealing all those animals was a great idea. Then I realized I'd never be able to move them. Not without getting caught. So you come in here, telling me that Gabby's gone back to her Ukrainian mobster husband and I decided to knock out two birds with one stone and put all the blame on him." She gave Russell an affectionate pat. "I just couldn't give this one up." She gave Gabby a meaningful look. "I'm sorry that I used you for my own evil means...and that your husband got eaten by a tiger."

"Again, probably not a sentence that anyone has said out loud before," Gabby shook her head. "I can't be mad at you, Sal. You saved our lives."

Sal heaved out a sigh of relief and slid moist eyes to Russell. "You'll buy him some friends' right? Alpaca's are herding animals. He'll get lonely if there aren't other alpacas around."

Gabby nodded and swallowed over the lump in her throat. As Sal had suggested, she'd decided to leave town and head out to a quiet area outside of a little town called Sierra Vista in Arizona. The climate was perfect for raising alpacas and she had agreed to take Sal's camelid charge with her. But she was really going to miss Sal. Jesse squeezed her hand and Gabby felt her tears dry up. At least he would be with her. "I was thinking we might start a farm, if we make enough money." She gave a wobbly smile. "I'm going back to veterinary school."

Sal smiled happily at the news and Jesse squeezed Gabby closer. "I'm thinking I can get a job out there, while we work on building up the farm. Support Gabby while she goes back to school."

Sal smiled again and shook her head. She lead them to the door, the alpaca that had saved her life following loyally behind them. She didn't speak as they got into Jesse's jeep, preparing to start their new lives in Arizona. She simply hugged them all; reserving her hardest squeeze for the alpaca she'd named Russell. Sal leaned in Jesse's window as he started the jeep, finally speaking. "About you getting a job to pay for Gabby's school..."

Jesse shook his head. "Sal, you've done enough."

"It isn't me that's going to give you anything." Sal nodded to Russell, who had curled up in the backseat. "But when you let my little buddy out at the rest stops, you may want to check his poops thoroughly. I never did get a chance to harvest what he was carrying."

"You mean..." Jesse turned his head to Russell.

"Yup, little Russell is still loaded with diamonds." Sal shoved a business card into his hands. "Call my friend. He'll give you a good deal. More than enough to start an alpaca farm and send Gabby back to veterinary school."

Jesse took the business card and Sal said her goodbyes, getting a little teary as she said goodbye to Russell. After a few moments, she was gone and he and Gabby were alone in the car again.

"She's insane," he finally said to break the silence, "but a little wonderful."

Gabby glared and gave him a mock jealous punch in the arm. "And what am I?"

Jesse tugged Gabby towards him. "Completely sane and completely wonderful." He gave her a long kiss on the mouth before finally relinquishing his hold.

Gabby sucked in a breath. Leaving town with Jesse, to start a farm and go back to school suddenly seemed overwhelming, like she was asking too much of him. "Are you sure you want to do this?"

Jesse gunned the engine and pulled out into the street. "I've never been more sure of anything."

"Because if you're still feeling guilty..."

Jesse smiled. "Do I need to pull over and show you how not guilty I feel? Because Russell is a little young to witness that kind of action."

Gabby blushed and smiled. "No, but you could kiss me again."

Jesse chuckled and put on the brakes, pulling over to the side of the road. He tugged Gabby into his arms and lowered his mouth to meet hers. His lips brushed against hers gently and Gabby clutched his shirt, pulling him closer. He kissed her until she was dizzy, finally pulling back, gasping and watching her with dilated pupils. "How was that?"

Gabby smiled again and pulled his head back down towards her. "That," she said before her lips met his again, "was the best apology ever."

The End.

Strangely Sober

Angelica Salvatori, aka Sal, is anything but sober. As a hard partying and even harder living criminal, she considers her status as mastermind not just a job, but a calling. Between running her crew, trying to burn down her bar, and dealing with her occasional breaks with reality, she has enough on her plate. When she finds out that she has a twin she didn't know about, one that may be in serious danger because of something she did, Sal reacts by doing what any good delusional sociopath would do. She goes on a violence packed, cross country crime spree to find out who's hunting them and why.

When security consultant Cole Warner is hired by Sal's sister to track her down and keep her safe, he gets a lot more than he bargained for. While pursuing Sal through a series of explosions, gun fights and meetings with drug cartel, he starts to wonder if the woman he's trying to protect needs to be protected from herself. The more he gets to know Sal, the more he thinks that the self declared evil genius may have a death wish. At the same time, he also finds himself having more fun than he's ever had in his life, so she must be doing something right.

Sal and Cole soon find themselves drawn into the illicit underworld of human trafficking as they try to solve the mystery. With the help of Sal's diverse family, a suitcase full of explosives, and a recurring Gary Busey hallucination, the two will embark on a journey to confront a kingpin who may be as dangerous to Sal as she is to herself.

(See the next page for a sneak peak at Strangely Sober)
CHAPTER 1

The girl on the bed was perfect in every conceivable way. Long, white blonde, silken hair lay fanned out behind her. Her skin was light ivory, contrasted with pink in her cheeks and the dark red crushed strawberry of her full, parted lips. Her eyes were half closed, open only enough to reveal the startling blue violet of her eyes. She lay on her side, one delicate arm draped over her stomach, facing a window on the second floor of the house that looked out into sun-drenched, beige landscape. She never saw the sand dunes in the distance or brushy spotting of cacti. If not for the occasional rise and fall of her chest, the outside observer would assume she was dead.

She had been like that since shortly after her abduction. The girl on the bed, Tia, to the few people who knew her, was in the room in body only. Her mind was existing outside of the room in a clean plane of white, slightly luminous tile. Occasionally, snatches of conversation came through to her from the men who stood over the bed.

"So you've found the other one then?" An older man stood with his focus on Tia. His dark, fierce eyes raked her over greedily. "Because we're running out of time."

The younger man next to him crossed his arms over his and nodded definitely. "We'll have her soon enough. I have Vadim working on it."

The older man's eyes widened in alarm. "I need her alive."

His companion looked unconcerned. "He's rough, but he'll get it done right. She might be a little beat up, but she'll suit your purposes." He watched his boss's face. After several long moments, he smiled.

"Well then," the older man clapped his hands together cheerfully as he shuffled back to the desk where his chess table was set up. "I guess you'll want to take this one."

The younger man balled his fists but said nothing. He moved with even, fluid grace and took the seat opposite the older man's, crossing an ankle over his knee and leaning back to appraise Tia. "That was the deal. You won't need her now."

"The deal was you get me her sister in exchange for her." The older man shoved a pawn forward. "As the sister," the man waved his hand towards the room, "is not yet here, you haven't completed your portion of the contract."

The younger man, Nathan Wyatt, wisely said nothing and continued to watch the woman. Nathan was possibly as handsome as she was beautiful, with light brown hair and piercing green eyes. His face was misleadingly boyish and placid and showed no indication of the darkness of the man within. He leaned forward suddenly, as for the first time in days, he saw Tia twitch.

Somewhere in the white plains of Tia's mind, a word echoed through, before fading.

"Sister."

Tia tried to ignore it and go back to thoughtless bliss, but the word refused to be ignored. _"Sister."_ It echoed again and Tia's mind followed it in hazy, muddled confusion. Someone said she had a sister?

They couldn't have. Tia was an only child. Her dad had been single. Her entire life, growing up, it had only been him and her. No family, grandparents, aunts or uncles. And definitely, no sister.

But they said she had a sister? Tia's mind clung to the possibility. No longer alone, as she had been since her dad's death six months earlier. Was it possible? Maybe her mother had another child.

But her father had told her that her mother had died giving birth to her. Tia's quiet place was fading, slipping away as she tried to clutch at it like smoke through her fingertips. She didn't want to go back to that room. Tia's eyes quivered as the room started to come back into focus again. With her safe place fading, she was again clutched by the roll of panic in her stomach. She struggled to make herself hold still.

"Her name is Angelica Salvatori."

"Trust Delia to give her a ridiculous name like that. Where is she?"

"Miami is what I'm being told. She owns a bar there. We should have her by tomorrow, day after at the latest."

Tia felt pressure in her bladder, not sure if it was because of her fear, or the fact that she hadn't gone to the bathroom in days. If she did have a sister, these men were planning on taking her like they'd taken Tia. A lump formed in Tia's throat, making it impossible to swallow. Thoughts whirred in her head as she tried to make sense of what she had heard. She had a sister. She had a sister she'd never met, didn't even know about. These men were going to take her, hurt her like they had hurt Tia. Tia tried to reign in her panic.

Her eyes focused again on the window, looking out onto the desert landscape, the tall cacti sitting thirty feet high in the distance, the sun a sharp glowing disc behind them. She never knew they could be so high or the sun so yellow. It looked so bright and beautiful. It didn't make sense that something so dark and horrible could be happening inside. Tia sucked in a breath, this one loud enough to make both men stop their chess game and look over at her. With another gasp, for the first time in one week and three days, Tia sat up.

"Tia," Nathan started to rise out of his chair. Seeing the movement, Tia jumped to her feet, pins and needles shooting through her legs as she used them for the first time in days. "Tia?"

Tia backed away in panic as Nathan started to walk to her. He stopped on the other side of the bed, watching her cautiously. "You're awake."

Tia's back hit the wall and she turned to the side. Next to her, the window. It was open, not even a pane of glass separated her from the sky. She reached out a hand like a sleepwalker and put it outside in the open air. Her hand was free.

"Tia." Nathan watched Tia from across the room, afraid to startle her. The window was large but two stories up. Tia moved in front of it and turned to face him, leaning back on the sill. Nathan lifted a hand towards her as she tilted back a little.

"Tia, come away from there. You're going to fall."

Her voice was smoky from nonuse. "I have a sister?"

Nathan nodded quietly. "Yes, and when we get her, you can come away with me." Nathan slowly started to walk around the bed. "Why don't you lie back down?" He started to approach her. He stopped when Tia leaned farther into the window.

"What are you going to do to her?"

"You don't need to be concerned about that." Nathan's voice had grown firmer. "Now come away from the window." He started to take another purposeful step towards her, and Tia leaned back even further. This time, the elderly man took notice as well.

"Nathan, you need to put a stop to this." The older man, Victor Slon, started to rise from his chair.

"I'm working on it. Tia, please come away from there before you get hurt." Instead, Tia leaned out until the only thing keeping her from falling out was her hands gripping the windowsill. She let her focus drift away from Nathan. She turned her face and saw the sky, felt the warm sun on her back.

She let go of the windowsill and let herself float into it.

Nathan raced to the window as Tia disappeared, arms outstretched, tumbling over. "Tia!"

Tia heard her name as she fell from the sky, her heart pounding in her ears as the wind rushed by her. She lay suspended in air forever, her hair forming a halo around her angelic face. Time stopped, everything stopped.

Suddenly, everything slammed out of her as her body hit the ground, her breath left her in a whoosh of air. She lay on the ground, stunned for a moment, wondering if she was dead. The sky stretched on endlessly above her and suddenly Tia was feeling less brave.

She gingerly sat up, and felt for broken bones. Tia heard shouting from above and knew they would be coming for her soon. She got to her feet, her standing still unsure, and bolted towards the horizon to find her sister.

***

The Yuma Desert sits outside Yuma, Arizona, a tiny slice of the larger Sonoran Desert that routes drug dealers and illegal aliens alike into the United States. The harsh lands, lack of rainfall, and unstable sand dunes make it a poor choice for development and it sits deserted, with the occasional spots of Coyotes smuggling illegals into the large neighboring city of Yuma. There are almost no natural water reservoirs.

Frequently, unprepared travelers expire on the trip through the harsh terrain. The most common cause is dehydration, either from the immigrants not bringing enough of their own supply, or from having it stolen by the often vicious outlaws who wander the terrain. The problem had grown so significant, the US Department of Fish and Wildlife had, with great controversy, installed several watering stations along the border that allowed the border jumpers to refill as needed.

Darren Calipso, border patrol agent, had been given the lofty duty of re-checking the water stations. It was an easy job that could be surprisingly fun, when given the proper equipment to play with. Darren raced in the sand, the tracks from his ATV disappearing almost as soon as he made them, miles of empty desert stretching in front of him. He felt alone in the universe, and the feeling was good. The wind whipped through his hair, sand spotted against his goggles. He jumped another dune, his ATV flying in the air, and laughed as it came down with a delicate bounce of perfect suspension. With all four wheels on the ground again, he surveyed the horizon, expecting to find it empty. To his surprise, for once, it wasn't.

A lone figure, black against the sun behind it took haltering, stumbling steps. The figure paused, leaned forward, fell to the ground. It struggled to an uncertain stand, again stumbling forward with determined steps.

Darren shook his head and reached for his canteen. Another illegal getting ready to forfeit their life to the desert. He gunned the ATV and took off towards the figure. As he drew closer and the sun stopped blotting the features of the figure, he stared in surprise.

The stumbling person continued to trundle and trip in the sand. Darren stopped the ATV and watched her for a moment. She gave no indication she even knew he was there. She was tall, in a long white dress definitely not designed for a trek in the desert. If anything, it looked like a nightgown. But the gown wasn't the most surprising thing. In a desert populated by illegal Mexican immigrants, drug dealers and outlaws, Darren had expected to see swarthy dark, sunburned skin with coarse black hair. Instead, the woman in front of him was a vision of pearl skin, just starting to turn pink from the sun, and white blonde hair that hung to her waist. For the first time, the woman turned towards him and he saw her wide violet blue eyes widen in alarm.

"What are you doing out here?" Darren took a step towards her and held out the canteen. She stared at it as though she had never seen one before.

"I don't know." The words were whispered and gravelly, confused. Darren studied her face as he walked closer. She was beautiful, but haggard, her hair tangled from the wind, her lips and cheeks chapped. "I don't know how I got here." She whispered it again and dropped to her knees on the ground.

Darren raced to her side, still in shock from the surreal situation. He squatted down next to her and pushed the canteen at her again. "Are you lost? Are you looking for something?"

The girl's eyes locked on his and finally seemed to focus for a moment. "I think," she started haltingly, her voice getting weaker; "I'm looking for my sister."

She slumped to the ground, unconscious.

***

From the outside, the bar looked closed, even abandoned. The dirty windows were so caked in years of cigarette smoke, bar fight blood and mystery smears that it was completely impossible to see what was going on inside unless you pressed your face against the glass. Nobody ever did unless they wanted to walk away with a forehead full of hepatitis. A chipped red door sat crookedly on a door frame, never fully closed. On that, a sign, in peeling stick-on black letters, the name of the bar.

"Strangely Sober."

"Yo, Sal, " Mooki's voice caught on the last word as he sucked in a mouthful of some seriously strong black hash. "It's your hit." He held the pipe out from the table he was sitting at in the bar, deserted except for the four regular patrons. Mooki, also known as Marlon Lookey, Sal's half-brother from her mother's fourth marriage, was one of those regular patrons.

"Have Nicky take it for me," came a pack a day, but decidedly feminine voice from somewhere under the bar. Rustling, hammering, feminine swearing. A hand reached up for a lighter, chipped broken fingernails, cuts and burns, multiple Band-Aids. The hand shook as it snatched a lighter and disappeared again.

Nicky, usually known as Nicholas Salvatori, reached over to oblige his niece's request. "Whatcha making in there Sally girl?" Nicky said in the general direction of the bar.

From below the bar, a mini commotion, muffled swearing, a possible blowtorch?

"You three are going to rot your brains with that shit." Sal's other uncle, Giovanni Salvatori, aka Gio, stated from where he was studying a mismatched chess set, watching his unlikely opponent. He took a heavy belt from his single malt scotch and moved a pawn. His companion said nothing, but then again, his companion rarely said anything.

"Check," John Bernard St. Pierre, one of Sal's former stepfathers, stated as he shoved his bishop into the spot in front of Gio's unprotected king. Everyone called him Mumbai, despite the fact that he wasn't Indian and had never been to India. The irony was lost on the group, as they were all really bad at geography.

"Son of a bitch," Gio responded.

"My brain's already rotting. I'm just making the process more comfortable."

From behind the bar stood a girl, who on first glance, looked surprisingly like Tia. On closer inspection, she was a far more tattered copy. Instead of a natural white blonde, her hair was naturally golden. That could be discerned by the four-inch roots that grew from the top. The rest was bleached almost yellow, with dried and broken ends. The length ranged from two inches to mid back. Her features were small like Tia's, but her lips were pale and chapped, currently clamped around a cigarette. Her nose sat awkwardly crooked in the center of her face, the result of a previous fracture. Two scars, one new, a slim red line grazing her right cheekbone, the second older, less pronounced, slicing through the middle of her top lip. Her most alluring and disturbing feature were her eyes. In Tia's face, the blue violet was soft and limpid, serene. In Sal's face, they burned fever bright, the dark circles and red rims making the color more pronounced. Her gaze was disturbing, but slightly intriguing, mainly in its strangeness.

She was an exact replica of Tia. Just not a pretty one.

Her hands clutched a lit cigarette, despite the one that was already in her mouth, a lighter, a fire extinguisher, a beer, several rolls of duct tape and a half-empty bottle of 151. She placed everything on the bar in front of her and took a drag off her cigarette in her mouth, another drag off the cigarette in her hand, and surveyed the mess with a critical eye.

To any outsider, the occupants of the bar were an oddly-matched group. Gio and Nicky were middle aged and middle aging, respectively. They were both wiry Italians with quick tempers. Gio, the older brother, was the high-strung hothead, given to going off for anything. Nicky was the younger laid back ladies' man with a long string of girlfriends with names like Taffy, Candy, Crystal and so on. They were the brothers of Sal's mother and the favorites of her various uncles.

Mooki was the youngest. He was the short, thin half German result of a green card marriage that Sal's mother took too seriously. He mainly followed Sal around downing a steady supply of drugs and occasionally starting some brother/sister bickering that both secretly enjoyed. He was also the muscle of the group. That would have seemed strange, considering his unimposing, hippie persona, except he grew up with a name like Mooki so he had a lot of experience fighting.

Mumbai was a mystery. He was a six foot five Haitian refugee with one eye and he was Sal's fifth former stepfather. The only thing he ever said of the marriage to Sal's mother was that it made him nostalgic for his days as a political prisoner.

Sal lifted the fire extinguisher, cigarette dangling from her lip and squinted as she lifted the nozzle. She pointed it towards Mooki who was watching from the table.

"It's just a fire extinguisher." Mooki was unimpressed.

"Correction, it was an extinguisher, now it's an _embellisher_." Sal pressed the nozzle gently and laughed as Mooki tumbled out of the chair he was sitting in to avoid the four foot flames that shot out.

"Relax, it's on the lowest setting." Sal flicked a switch and set the fire extinguisher on the floor. "You should see when I put it on high."

"Holy shit," Mooki responded as he peeked his head above the table and stood, moving to where Sal was standing. "You gave it settings and everything." He picked it up, placing it on the bar, admiring Sal's handy work. The extinguisher had undergone some minor changes. There was a small cartridge on the bottom now, with a small bottle underneath. The entire nozzle had been wrapped in electrical tape. On the front, Sal had written in black magic marker _"Use in case of water"._

"Nice." Nicky had joined them.

Sal smiled proudly. "The hard part was finding something that vaporized into strong enough alcohol to burn. Mooki gave me the idea when he passed out after drinking all that 151, and I dropped that cigarette on him."

"I don't remember that."

"Your eyebrows came back in nicely." Nicky lifted the nozzle and turned his attention back to Sal. "How did you know how to make it?"

"I guess the better question would be, 'Why?'" Gio said from across the room, still staring at the chessboard in dismay.

Sal was incredulous. "I will have you know that this," Sal patted her flamethrower fondly, "is the thing that is finally going to take care of this problem once and for all." Sal slapped her hand down on the bar and fixed her eyes on her uncle, who continued to play his game with Mumbai.

"Ain't gonna work, Sal."

"It will if I hit all the support beams."

"You're only going to burn the support beams? That won't be a dead giveaway to the fire inspector." Gio rolled his eyes and shoved a pawn forward.

"It would be, if I was using an accelerant like gasoline or lighter fluid. Not," Sal patted the fire extinguisher, "if it runs on alcohol. So they find spots of alcohol," Sal shrugged and spread her arms wide. "It's a bar, of course they're gonna find booze!"

Nicky raised an eyebrow and turned to Gio. "She makes a good point. You really think this will work?" Nicky turned back to Sal. She nodded emphatically as Gio shook his head.

"Why don't you just keep it?"

Sal sighed as Gio started the same argument they'd had a million times before. "Because I'm not ready to retire yet." Sal glared at the bar that had been the bane of her existence for the past three months. She scratched a spot on her neck, the idea of retirement making her itch. "We've been over this, Gio. If you want to retire, do it. I won't hold it against you if you're ready to get out." Sal looked at her uncle, still focused on the chess board. His hand was still.

"That's not what this is about Sal."

Sal let out another deep sigh. "I know." She flounced around the bar and moved to the table by Mooki . Looking for allies. "But you hanging out to keep me in check isn't necessary. I think I've proven that I have everything under control." Sal raised an eyebrow at Mooki and nodded. The very stoned Mooki began to nod along with her.

"Dude, your extinguisher is awesome." Sal smiled at Mooki. His comment was off topic but the best she could hope for given his condition. "Can I play with it?"

"In a minute." Sal looked over to Nicky. "Nicky agrees. He made out better in Vegas than any of us." Nicky nodded in agreement.

"Vegas was too big." Gio shook his head, moved a bishop to a king. "I'm still not convinced we got out clean."

Sal snorted and tossed tangled hair. "You're never convinced we got out clean. Seriously, you're more paranoid than I am. That's saying something."

"Vegas is fine." Nicky moved back to the table, glaring at Gio. Being the biggest gambler in the group, he also had the most to lose if Vegas came back to bite them. He chose to go the optimistic route. As Sal had pointed out, it had always worked out before.

Sal smiled. Two down. The third would be easiest. "What do you think Mumbai?"

"What happens will happen." Mumbai's mouth barely moved as he spoke. "Checkmate."

"Son of a bitch," Gio let out a swear as he lost yet another game of chess to Mumbai and an argument to Sal in record time.

The conversation died down for a bit and the room was quiet as Gio and Mumbai gave up on chess and the cards came out. Mooki and Nicky moved to the table, dragging wobbly bar stools.

"Sal, get beer." Mooki tossed over his shoulder.

"Get it yourself." Sal went back to playing with her fire extinguisher and hopped up on the bar to sit. "Get me one too. My hands are shaking. I'm getting too excited." Sal jiggled the fire extinguisher and lifted a butt cheek to reach into her back pocket. She tugged a pen out of where she had shoved it into the tangled mess of her hair as she spread out a piece of folded paper in front of her. The layout of the bar, drawn to freakishly detailed scale, lay in front of her. She studied the angles and began making notes on the paper.

"You are the world's worst bartender." Mooki dropped a beer next to her and looked at the paper.

Sal reached out without looking and promptly knocked over the beer.

"Fuck, I'm too hyped up. I'm writing like a three year old with palsy. This might be another stroke." Sal took a slug off her beer. She lit another cigarette and dropped the one that had burned down to a nub between her index and middle fingers on her right hand. "I need a game of logic to determine if I am having a stroke." Sal dumped beer down her shirt as she attempted to take a drag off her cigarette and a sip of her beer at the same time. "Mooki, fuck, marry or kill?"

"Name the contestants."

"Your choices are any four of the _Golden Girls_. You can leave one out, but you have to use at least three." Sal cocked her head as she stretched her back at the bar, waiting for the answer to her question.

"Ouch, nice set up," Mooki looked down. "Well, obviously, I'd fuck Blanche, cause she was kinda the slutty one."

"Disgusting," Gio said, joining the conversation. "I wouldn't fuck that one with a borrowed dick. Tell you who I'd do, Betty White. She was a pretty hot piece for an old broad."

"I picked her to kill," Nicky responded. He began to shuffle, dealing out a hand of poker with the skill of a Vegas casino worker.

"You kidding! How the fuck could you kill Betty White. The woman's a fucking saint."

"Nothing personal," Nicky responded as he organized his cards. "Just business."

"How?" Mooki pulled up a chair.

"I got a celebrity death pool going online." He smiled as Gio looked at him in confusion. "People make lists of what celebrity they think is going to die, and pay a buck a name to bet. Their celebrity kicks it, they get a piece of the win. They don't, I keep the money. I got so many people betting on Betty White, if she dies any time next year, I'm gonna be friggin bankrupt." Nicky shifted the cards in his hands. "So I would off the old broad, then keep it on the down low until the year was over. January 1, Betty's body shows up in a vacant lot and I keep all the money." Nicky met the horrified eyes watching him from around the table. "It's just good business."

"I would marry Betty White." Heads swiveled in Mumbai's direction as his low voice caught them off guard. "She has much money and few years left."

"I love how practically you guys view this game." Sal commented as she pressed two fingers to the pulse in her throat. "Not a stroke. Just a little worked up. I'm gonna burn my bar down!" Sal smiled like a kid on Christmas morning and returned to making circles on her paper.

The men sat playing a loud, argumentative round of poker while Sal sat on the bar, flamethrower between her knees, pen in hand, absorbed in the paper in front of her. She muttered to herself and crossed something out. Around the third hand the group all turned as they heard a sound they had never heard before. The jingle of the bell in the entryway.

A customer.

Sal's eyes returned to her paper. "Sorry, we're renovating," she said without looking at the newcomer.

"Your sign says you're open," the man responded flatly.

"Yeah, it's stuck to the window with some kind of mystery goo." Sal gestured to the sign and looked up in frustration, annoyed at the customer attempting to patronize her business. "Listen, you don't want to drink here. Hell, even I don't want to drink here, and I own the place. There's a pretty nice bar..."

The man cut her off. "I'm not here to drink. Are you Angelica Salvatori?"

"Who wants to know?" Sal crossed her arms over her fire extinguisher and watched as the man began to walk towards her. He was tall, at least a foot and a half taller than her, and thick. She could see where his suit cut into his neck. The sleeves were too short for his arms. He had the kind of body that made his head look too small. Hundreds of hours logged in a gym, hell of a lot of steroids.

"The FBI." The man pulled out his billfold and flashed a badge quickly. Sal watched as he snapped it shut and put it away. "I have some questions I need to ask you. I'm going to have to ask you to come with me." The man stopped in front of her, only a few feet away. Just out of reaching distance. The men at the poker table watched the exchange. No one spoke as they waited for Sal to take the lead.

"FBI," Sal looked at the man thoughtfully with a slight smirk. "Right."

The man took another step. This time, with a stretch, he could reach out and touch her. "Are you Angelica?" Sal didn't like his voice. It was flat and odd, like he was reading off a script.

Sal raised the nozzle of the extinguisher and pointed it at the man. "So what if I am?" She held it cautiously, and her eyes took on their sharp unsettling glare. For a moment, the man seemed unable to look away. Then he seemed to snap out of it.

His wooden face split into an amused grin. "What are you going to do? Extinguish me to death?"

"No, but I could ruin your suit." She giggled a weird little laugh then shook her head. "I'm just teasing though," Sal said as she looked down at the fire extinguisher, her eyes just slightly absent. Her voice far away. "I don't want to be any trouble. I actually really respect the FBI. Even thought about joining up in high school. There was something about that 'First do no harm' motto that really called to me. That's the motto, right?" Sal cocked an eyebrow as she watched the man, waiting for confirmation of her suspicion.

The man shook his head while he looked at her. "Sure honey, that's the motto." He started to reach out a hand towards her, planning on snatching her while her guard was down.

He had time to watch her eyes narrow and her lips curve into an evil little grin before his world erupted in flame.

