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Chapter Text

Stilwater Correctional Facility:

I had the weird impression that the ceiling was moving.

But turns out, I was simply lying on my back at the top of a moving gurney.

Lamps were flashing their annoying lights on my eyes and my body was being rolled to an unknown destination, without any context except not being able to move. I had no idea of what was going on, but suddenly heard a man's voice next to me:

'She is awake, unbelievable!'

Another male voice replied, it had this deep, husky tone:

'We are taking The Leader of The Saints to the infirmary, officer. The chief of police is waiting for us.'

In a single flashback, it all came back to me:

The Leader of The Saints, that was me.

Out of instinct I kept my face as lifeless as possible, letting my arm fall limply to the side when it slid out with the motion of the gurney.

For someone like me the words 'officer' and 'police' never meant anything good. Things were starting to make sense and I realized that the ceiling I was staring at could be no other but a prison's.

'She is… Beautiful. Look at those eyes… Not like I pictured at all.' The second cop's deep voice said, with unexpected tenderness.

'Huh. Fuck you, asshole.' I thought, cuz compliments coming from the fuzz meant nothing to me. I was interrupted though, as successive hits brutally shook the gurney and the back of my head hit the metal sides of the damn thing painfully. I bit my tongue in order not to show pain.

'Careful when you go down the stairs!' The deep voice said again with angry authority.

'Sargent Payne, you're way too human with those scums. People like her don't deserve to breathe. She and her gang killed more than two hundred of our men, I ain't worrying about bumping this brain dead bitch on the ceiling all the way to the infirmary, for all I care. Why bother being careful with someone if its to send them to the chair, anyway?'

Chair?!

My entire body suddenly panicked at this word, as I was more and more aware of how shitty my situation was. My heart was beating so fast and strong that I feared that my body would give away in any sign that I was listening to everything they were saying.

'Move it, officer. You're dismissed. I'll take her myself.'

I felt that the gurney stopped and heard steps, the sides of my vision showing that the two men changed positions. The gurney resumed its pace but much more gently now.

At the imminence of close death I tried to frenetically think a way out of there, questions popping in my brain. Why was I there?

Turns out the answers came much quicker than I thought.

As soon as we entered the infirmary room I suppressed a gasp and a knot formed on my stomach, recognizing in the blond man with the police uniform one of my closest friends.

'Troy.'

My imagination raced to years ago: That same Troy had his cig between his lips in that same manner, except, he was dressed in the colors of our gang. He had been shot, his purple shirt soaked in blood after barely escaping death. His arm was around the shoulder of a strong asian man, who was carrying him and also looked a bit wounded and pale.

'Thanks Johnny, if it wasn't for you I was a goner.'

'The fuck! You know I would take a bullet for any of you.' The man replied.

A pretty asian girl joined the picture to lit his cig with her golden lighter.

'You guys are such pussies.' She teased with affection. Then the four of us joined in one single embrace, glad that our friend was alive and swearing to always watch out for each other.

'Third Street!'

You can imagine how I felt when I understood I was there because he betrayed us.

If I could, I would've got up and strangled that asshole right there. But, old school gangster I was, my face didn't express my hate by a blink, I knew that I had to wait for a real opportunity to settle things with that traitor. He turned and spoke to the man behind the gurney:

'Did she say anything?'

'Nope. Nothing but vital signs.'

'No need for cuffing her then, the doctor will take a look and then, well…' He hesitated. 'The rest is up to the huh… You know.'

'You should go rest, Troy. If it isn't hard enough for you that Johnny is having his trial tomorrow…'

I heard Troy take a deep sad breath:

'It is.'

And with that what I hoped for happened. I heard their steps distancing and a door closing.

It was time to act.

My face came back to life as I looked around in the dim light of the infirmary. My eyes stopped on the doctor, distracted with some X-rays while his back was turned to me.

I drew a long anxious breath: Once I started this there was no turning back.

My body was as frozen, but after an inhuman effort I managed to turn around and slid out of the gurney.

The sound of it hitting the ground caused the man to hastily turn and stare at me, a bit stunned to see me rise. His mouth was opening and I guessed he was recovering from his shock and about to call for help.

I must've look like a wounded snail when I gathered all my strength and dragged myself desperately towards him. Craving to survive, my shaking hands grabbed the pen on the pocket of his white vest and stuck it on his jugular. The dark warm liquid soaked my hands and orange uniform as I covered his mouth and slid to the floor together, washed out.

His body was lying there dead, next to mine. I made the picture even prettier by puking over it, nauseated with the effort. I coughed, almost suffocated, but then suddenly understood I wasn't alone in the room. A hand wrapped around my mouth and pulled me up.

I tried to react but a strong arm held my waist and arms together from behind, stopping any attempt of my weakened body to break free.

I struggled, hopeless, and stuck the pen blindly on my aggressor. He let out a faint groan, but he still didn't let go of me, just his mouth glued to my ear and whispered urgently:

'Shh! Don't say a thing, there is a guard behind the door! I am here to help you.'

'Who the fuck are you?' I said lowly as he let go of me and my body found the floor again.

'I'm Carlos. My brother was in the Saints and he told me all about you. Listen, we've got to get you out of here.'

I leaned on my hands and turned to look at him, suspiciously. His athletic figure was coming out of the shadows and I couldn't see much more than a purple beanie and an orange uniform.

'What's your brother's name?'

'Hector. Hector Mendoza… You remember him?'

'Of course I do, but as for you being his bro…' I made an effort and managed get up. '… I can't fucking verify that.'

'I am a prisoner too! Give me one good reason to bullshit you!'

'Where is he, then?' I asked, grumpily.

'He died!' At this point, his voice shivered with rage. 'Shot in the head by a cop two years ago.'

I ignored him as I tried to plan my next move, but he seemed exasperated that I wasn't buying his story:

'You gotta believe me! I just got fucking shanked by you for God's sake, why would I lie!' He showed me the wound right below his ribcage, his hispanic accent thicker now. 'Do you even know your way out of here like I do? Without me you'll be dead in a couple of minutes!'

I got closer to the stranger so I could read his expression, leaning on his shoulders for support. I could distinguish in the dim light a big pair of brown eyes, stuck on mine stubbornly as if begging for me to believe.

Was it out of survival desperation, because I had no better plan in mind, or was it because, despite everything that happened, that gaze still managed to inspire me trust? I'll never know why, but I grabbed Carlos' arm and decided to side with him:

'Ok, let's get out of here!'

'I know the way to the roof.' He said, without wasting time and went to search for the doctor's access card on the body. We used it on a small door marked 'Security' and sneaked our way out into some stairways.

Carlos then popped out the grill of a vent under the stairs and we got in one after the other.

Leaning on our elbows, we crawled silently in the darkness of the dusty vent for about ten minutes.

Light ahead finally showed that we were about to reach the end of the tunnel so we were extra careful with noises.

My heart skipped a beat when a pair of legs passed casually in front of the vent. We waited for it to leave, more nervous than ever and I poked my head out to inspect:

'What do you see?' He asked.

'Shh! One guard. Alone. He is turning around and going to pass by us again.'

Carlos looked around and quietly left the vent. I saw him coming back with a cinder block in his hands.

'Hit him. Hit him, now! Go!' His voice whispered at my side and he hid in the shadows.

I raised the cinder block above my head with all the fucking strength of my body and prepared to go for the back of the head of the guard.

'Damn it!' My arms left at the last moment and the block fell on the ground. It was more than enough to draw his attention: As soon as he saw an inmate ducking in the shadows he understood things were fucked up.

'On the ground, now!' He threatened, pointing his gun at me.

I had no will of getting back to jail from to be be sent straight to the death row for my many crimes. So I ran.

Kind of.

Well, I stumbled on the ground after barely jogging two steps.

With a loud 'bang!' I sensed that a shot passed right next to me and struck on the floor by my side. But in no time an arm in an orange sleeve passed around the guard's neck, pushing him backwards.

Carlos went straight for his gun, kicking his face. The two brawled on the ground for a while until I finally had the strength to help him out. I dragged the cinder block towards his reach and in two seconds the guard's head took the worst from the strike.

Wasn't pretty.

'Thanks. This was embarrassing.' I panted, tapping my hands on his side as I tensely looked around the penitentiary's roof.

We were at an open space and since it was night, almost in the dark. The sentinel lights danced around the ground, illuminating it and blinding us briefly. Not only my muscles were weak, my eyes burned like crazy with those strong lights.

'Hey, don't complain, after years in a coma it's a miracle you can walk around.' Carlos caught his breath and quickly dove to the dead guard's hand, pulling on his fingers so he could retrieve his pistol. 'Here, fast! They heard the shot, we can't stand here for long, let's move, now!'

He passed the pistol to me and helped me getting up.

We crawled gluing ourselves against the walls so we could avoid the searching lights.

We kept moving, our ears pumping with adrenaline. I kept following him without questioning if it was a safe bet to trust a guy I just met that same day for this escape.

Carlos and I were almost running while keeping our heads down, I could already hear voices coming from the vent where we crawled from.

I didn't even had to say anything to my accomplice, he heard it too and we understood each other. The guards already found our trail and were behind our steps by seconds, now it was a matter of moments before they found us.

I sensed Carlos push my hand towards a direction, the idea that he knew the way out lighting a ray of hope inside and pushing me to suffocate the growing panic.

I let him guide me, doing my best to jog in silence, skipping breaths.

Without warning, he came to a hard halt and I used all strength left to retain my moving body so it wouldn't bump too strongly on his. My over stimulated senses took notice of the reason of his sudden hesitation : A security light slid itself on the walls in our direction.

Out of reflex, he ducked and so did I, and we clumsy fell on top of each other as the light passed right above without detecting our presence.

I couldn't believe our luck.

The voices still moved closer but, so far, we managed to sneak our way successfully. We were now in front of descending iron stairs boarded with high security fences, topped with barbed wire.

'I think we might pull this out!' Carlos whispered joyously. 'If we pass through, we're probably free!'

'Probably?!' I asked dryly, realizing that he didn't know his way around the prison as he first bragged.

He gave me an apologetic shrug as we rushed the way down the stairs:

'Oh come on. You wouldn't accept to do this otherwise.'

I gave him a glance of death for this remark, he saw that I wasn't kidding and just adjusted his purple beanie with an awkward expression, immediately lowering his large brown eyes, exasperated at the idea that he just disappointed me.

I confess that I almost wanted to strangle him at that point, but seeing that this kid cared so much made me feel sort of funny so I didn't say anything. Besides, since we were now in front of the entrance gates of the penitentiary, I had to let out a satisfied sigh.

I tapped him on the shoulder as a silent thanks.

'Told you I would get you out of here!' His sheepish expression vanished as his words dripped with pride at my compliment. Now, in the light, I could distinguish his traits better. He had a cute, baby-like face that at present had triumph written all over it. It's sweetness didn't agree at all with his prison uniform, and you had to actually see it to believe that such an innocent face could belong to an inmate.

We kept walking silently side by side, our hearts beating madly fast, each step we took leading us closer to the silhouette of the city we could spot behind the gates.

'What now?' I asked him as we hid behind a column, trying to figure a way to make it through the other side.

'We'll wait.' He crossed himself, joining his palms and brought it to his lips in expectation, as if he was hoping in God for it to work. 'Tranquila! Someone will have to come in at some point!' He continued in Spanish. 'Let's just fucking hope it's before those cops have the time to give the alarm!'

And turned out, fate was indeed at our side. If there is a higher power or some shit like that, it certainly rolled with us that night.

Not even a minute after, a police car stopped at the front gate, and we held our breaths as it opened so the vehicle could enter.

'Let's do this!' I told him and we came out of hiding, shooting the cops dead and entering the car.

We didn't even had time to close the doors when a screaming siren took control of the whole island.

Turning red lights twisted accusingly at the front gate and, to our desperation, it started to close…

'Shit! GO!' Carlos screamed at my side and without thinking I hit the gas, speeding towards the doors and bumping them open.

'Almost home free, baby!' My new friend celebrated at my side, letting out a breath of adrenaline decreasing.

I too relaxed a little on my seat as we both looked around for orientation.

It was only then that we acknowledged that the summer night was beautiful and that we were free.

Stilwater PD, later that night…

Ultor wanted to clean the city. Even a few members of the police were involved, one of them been Max Payne, recently transferred to Stilwater.

A lot was muffled, but apparently, he did quite the noise back in his former precinct, and that was the reason why he found himself in this city.

He was a truly honest, dedicated cop, yet, it was well known he wouldn't really do things by the book.

A tall, brown haired man in his mid forties, he still managed to remain attractive even if all the booze and painkillers he was once hooked on made him look older. But most of his appeal came from his personality. Caustic and caring at the same time.

He had a sarcastic sense of humor, and looked at life with totally derision. This probably came from the fact that his life was marked by countless tragedies, the biggest one was having his wife and baby daughter brutally murdered by some junkies. The dark humor was just another way to cope with that.

He and Troy Bradshaw, the Chief of Police, were now making a late shift at the PD. Next to them a newspaper seemed to justify why the two men were burning the midnight oil.

'Coma victim awakes, kills way to freedom! The sidewalks are no longer safe! The legendary leader of the gang once known as The Third Street Saints is free again.'

'Here.' Troy opened a huge file on the table. 'All the info we have on The Leader of the Saints. As a matter of fact, no one knows her real name. I could fish some info while I was a undercover, but this still remains a mystery.'

'Why is that?'

'She is probably an illegal immigrant, no papers found. If she has an ID now, it's a fake one, that is for sure.'

'Keep going.'

'32 years old, brunette, light skinned, hazel eyes, Hispanic. Psychotic profile assumed.'

'Psychopath?'

'No.' Troy was quick to answer. Psychos wouldn't risk their lives for him like she and Johnny Gat did. His nervousness hinted that it was never easy to talk about this subject.

'What are the charges?'

'Sit down, Max, this will take a while...' Troy joked as he searched for another page in the file and started:

'Drug trafficking, first degree murder, extortion, vandalism, fraud, robbery…'

'Don't run out of breath Troy.'

'Huh, right? I'm trying not to... Possessing stolen property, indecent exposure, loan sharking, and finally mayhem.'

'Really?' Max said, picturing the remarkably beautiful, childlike face of the woman he saw in prison.

'Nah. Don't get fooled.' Troy warned, guessing Max's thoughts. 'That chick is motherfucking crazy.'

After regaining the city me and Carlos had to abandon the boat we used to escape the island and swim our way around the piers. Avoiding the dock guards was our main concern and, besides, choppers and boats were sent to hunt us down from the penitentiary.

We hid behind the 'Slippery Finns' fish company building, waiting for the sirens to die off. Several times the police boats passed so close to us that their red lights got in our faces. Without being able to move and soaked, we kneeled there enduring the cold for hours as still as possible, gluing our backs on each other for warmth.

Only when the sounds started to fade, we dared to get out of hiding and search for a way in.

I managed to spot a locker room from outside, and since we needed to get out of our peels, this couldn't be more perfect.

Carlos broke the windows with a piece of wood and we broke in, exhausted.

But to my surprise, he immediately stepped closer to me and started to undo the zipper of my jumpsuit, pulling it down and leaving me half naked.

'Easy, man!' I reacted, taking his hands off me. 'At least buy me a beer first…!'

'Oh my God, what did you think I was doing?' He backed off, totally embarrassed. 'I am just trying to take this wet clothes off before we have fucking hypothermia!'

I raised an eyebrow, not entirely convinced and his face started to turn red. He turned away muttering something in Spanish and started to take off his own uniform:

'There is a shower over there, you should use it…' He pointed with his back turned.

I followed his advice at once and let out a small groan when the delicious warm water ran down my freezing body, bringing life back to it.

He humbly sat on the ground in his underwear waiting for his turn and hugged his legs, shaking back and forth while politely staring away.

His lips were blue and his chin was shivering with the cold as well, I glanced at his friendly expression between the curtain made of water drops:

'Why were you checked in?' I asked bluntly, wondering what crime landed a sweet face like that in jail.

'Car jacking. I got nine years.' He replied with a frown, adding as if to justify himself: 'The judge doesn't like people like us.' Carlos eyes stared at me for a very brief moment, quickly returning to where they were while he pointed at me and himself, in reference to the fact that we were immigrants.

It seemed to me that in a split second his gaze got lost on my body, and he coughed a bit to hide his nervousness.

I turned, also embarrassed, and got out to dry myself on anything dry I found. As Carlos took my place in the shower, I grabbed a pair of old jeans (that I had to twist multiple times on my waist to prevent it from falling) and what used to be a plain white shirt.

'We have to do something about your wound.' I said tossing him something similar.

'No problem. I used to live five minutes from here, right across the Liquor store. My roommate can fix me up.'

'In that case…' I picked up my gun and stuck it on the back of my pants, covering it with the shirt. Now that we were safe all I could think about was Gat and his trial, the lights of dawn reminding me of the urgency of the matter. '… I will be on my way.'

Carlos looked at me suspiciously:

'We just broke out and you're already thinking of doing stupid shit.'

'I can't let him fry.' I said, determined.

'At least let me come with you.' He insisted, clearly worried.

I shook my head.

I didn't want to drag him into this, he had done so much already.

So since he wasn't dressed, I hurried up outside before he had a chance to follow me.

On the last minute though I turned on my heels and poked my head at the window frame, looking insistingly for his eyes (they were often on the floor, insecurely) so I could show at least a bit of all the gratitude I had for him:

'Carlos…?'

'Yeah?'

'Thank you.'

He stared back at me, his gaze had this weird flame I couldn't understand:

'Anytime.'

Thanks for reading! :3

Hope you'll enjoy the next chapters and... Please review! :)

Rated M for lemons, cursing and crime glorification. Reminding this is only a fic, gang life, drugs, alcohol abuse and crime aren't cool at all.

Every time you see a line it means we're skipping to another scene, or changing from the protagonist's point of view to 3rd person. Max Payne will do a short crossover, and also, zombie Carlos won't be on this storyline.

Chapter Text

I opened the door of my old place, exhausted after leaving Gat at the safety of his girlfriend's home, and flicked the switch. The electricity still worked, probably because it was a hijack from the neighbor.

An old mattress on the floor, an old fridge, TV and a bug eaten armchair. For now it will do. Better than been in jail, that's for sure.

I didn't even remove the jeans, or my shoes, collapsing on the 'bed'. When I woke up it was around three already. I got up and took a long drag from the bottle of 40 oz I had left by my side the night before. Lazily, I went to the bathroom for a shower.

'So this is it, you bitch. Ten lost years, a fucking coma, no gang.' I sighed, pissed, staring at the missing tiles on the dirty bathroom wall as I let some water ran down my shoulders. 'Ten fucking years breathing through a tube, rotting in a hospital bed.' A big part of my youth was freaking gone, stolen from me by the people I once considered family.

I drank the rest of the booze to deal better with all this and took the old jeans off the floor where I tossed it last night.

When I checked the pockets, found the 200 dollars I stole from the doctor while escaping.

I took the train downtown, going to the supermarket to buy the basics: A blanket, soap, shampoo, razor, some food and beer. I bought all the make up I could with a few dollars, some shorts and a lycra top.

I knew exactly where and how to spend the money. Unfortunately, this wasn't the first time I found myself in this kind of situation, that is, fucking broke. But at the idea of being far from the death row, having 200 dollars to spend, my health and freedom back was like a wonderful fresh start, and it felt really good to be able to walk on the streets and have the right to live again.

After dropping my shopping at the studio, I tried to retrieve some contacts and went to visit Carlos at his friend's place.

As I walked through Stilwater, my old home, I almost didn't recognize it anymore.

A lot changed: Saints tags used to cover the walls of the entire city, now gangs with ridiculous names like 'Sons of Samedi' had this privilege. I saw no bangers greeting me on the sidewalks, not a single purple car passing around. A bit disappointed, I started to make my way back home.

It was getting late, and colder. I shrugged since I couldn't afford a coat, but as I passed in front of a cafe noticed a feminine black jacket over a chair. Just by looking at it you could tell this was expensive designer stuff.

I simply entered the cafe and pretended to be a costumer, walked to it, putting it so casually over my back, that no one could say it wasn't mine already.

'Now look at that, and it's exactly my size.' I thought, passing my hands lustfully on the fine leather. It was nice to own a jacket like that again. I loved expensive stuff, and got used to the bling. Been poor sucks, and when you taste richness going back to zero is unbearable.

This reminded me painfully that it was all gone. The money, the power, the nice shit, the top cars... And, worst: The gang, so many old friends...

It was all stolen from us. Ultor, Troy... I would call all of my debts.

I had Gat, and with his help, resurrecting the gang was the first thing I would do. This was our city. We were reunited, so we wouldn't be taking shit, hiding and lowering our heads like now. We could still recruit; regain our pride and our territory back.

I entered home and tried not to think anymore about the change of situation, that now we were no longer the kings of the city but a bunch of was useless and it put me in a state of pure anger. Anyway, it was only temporary.

To get my head away from these unpleasant thoughts I indulged myself into going through the stuff I just bought to look decent again. It was all cheap crap from 'On the Rag' or the dollar store, but it still gave me some satisfaction.

I rushed to the bathroom and shaved, then attached my hair, bringing it to the front so I could cut it in layers. Homemade, and the best I could afford, but it looked alright.

Next put the shorts and white top on and some make up, checking the final result in the broken mirror behind the door.

Thankfully, I aged well. Maybe it was the coma, but I could still pass for a college chick.

I smiled, feeling ready to take the entire city back tonight if it was necessary. It was good to find myself again.

I then checked my pockets, finding only 18 dollars and some nickels on it. It was all that was left from the shopping I did.

If wanted to eat at all that month then I would have to move my ass and bring some cash.

I had a list of vehicles to retrieve to Chop Shop, at the Trailer Park an old contact gave me a list of people that needed to be 'taken care of' for good cash. But it had to wait 'till tomorrow.

It wasn't that late, yet my ass was so tired I craved for some sleep. But, before my body found the bed, someone hit on the door.

I heard a low accented voice on the other side:

'Hey. It's me, Carlos. I found us work. Do you still need cash?'

I knew the answer to that.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

'Wow. Fancy.' The Boss stated, surprised, as Carlos opened the door of a black limo, inviting her in.

'Hey, thanks. How are you?' He said as she took place at the leather seat next to his and closed the door.

'Fine. And you and your friend?'

'Oh. Don't mention that fucker.' Carlos made a pissed gesture while he turned off the radio. 'When I woke up I was alone in the flat with a hangover. Most of his stuff gone (and most of mine too!), which brings us to this job.'

'So...?'

'Uh. Right.' Carlos said, uneasily, and passed a hand over his skull cap. He seemed embarrassed.

She lifted both brows, encouraging him to speak, but he just switched awkwardly on the seat.

'Spit it Carlos we don't have all night.'

'Well, it's a good thing that you're in desperate need of cash, because... They needed someone who could drive some A list people while keeping the press away… I thought I'd do the driving and you the security.'

'Piece of cake. Is that all?'

'You wished.' He pointed behind himself and The Boss turned her head: A hooker in high heels, leather lingerie and glitter bunny ears was opening a bag full of sex toys in the backseat.

'Let me guess: Those will be the Hugh Grant kind of celebrities.' She stated, grimly.

Carlos smiled awkwardly:

'Miss, you catch up quickly.'

About three hours of work later, driving to Metal music, both made a well deserved stop at Freckle Bitch's, Stilwater's most famous fast food.

A 'chicken bazoom' and a couple of 'the fists' later, the two had flushed faces, chewing and laughing nosily at the restaurant table, so much that some of the other costumers would even look back at them and frown.

'We're Latinos and speak loud, so what?' The Boss shouted, mockingly.

'Quieres mamita?*' Carlos offered some of his brought from home beer to the old lady amusingly as if to confirm this idea, and she widened her eyes in shock.

It looked like a great time, maybe from all the beers, maybe from the joy of been out of jail, or maybe from the natural affinity that connected the two fugitives.

The Boss was telling yet another anecdote from the old days at his request:

'...And then I said; hope you don't mind the hepatitis! Hahahaha.'

Carlos busted up with laughter too, covering his mouth with his hand so the food he was chewing wouldn't go anywhere.

'Tonight was great.' He said, wiping tears of laughter from his eyes. 'I hope that you had fun too, to make up for the lost time.'

'I did. Though I didn't expect to be payed to drive around while people have sex on the back seat. They could've soundproofed that thing.'

'But then, we wouldn't have learned that some people actually dig some unusual shit.'

'Don't mention it!' She chuckled. 'Reminds me we should get going and get our cash.'

Carlos smile vanished a little, disappointed that she was leaving already, and replied shyly:

'Ah, Sure. Huh, you… You wanna do it again tomorrow?'

The Boss put one hand in his shoulder:

'Thanks, but we have more important shit to focus for now.'

'We do? Waddya mean?'

'Since most of the old crew is dead or on jail, Gat and I will be doing some recruiting. I will also need other Lieutenants than you. We're putting our crew back together, taking back the Row.'

Carlos gave her a look of pure gratitude.

The Saints... Reborn. It was a dream, too good to be true. And to top that, he got to be a part of it.

'Me, a Lieutenant? For real?'

'Yep. Do you feel up to the task?'

An enchanted smile brightened up his face, he was just trying not to sound too excited about it:

'Sure I do! I mean, if you help me.'

A warm smile suddenly broke the seriousness in The Boss' face. She sensed tat he needed praise, that her opinion did matter an awful lot to him. He was a very sweet person, but was he Gang material? He did show potential when they escaped the island, perhaps with the right coaching he could go far.

The Boss decided, in that moment, to take him under her wing. Maybe it was for the connection she felt from the start, or maybe because he reminded her of herself when first got into the Saints, inexperienced and eager to please.

'Deal. When I'm done with the recruiting, I will let you kn...!'

Suddenly, The Boss paused, startled at the brusque change in Carlos' expression. His eyes were no longer on her, but rather on the glass window behind their table. She turned her head and followed his gaze through the translucent barrier to find the sight of two men talking outside. They seemed to be doing business with a pimp of the neighborhood. One of them was short and grey haired, his eyes were unpleasantly blue. The other man next to him was older, balding and somewhat bulky. She didn't know them, so she turned back to Carlos for answers:

'Who are th...?'

In response Carlos just mashed his fists quietly on the table, apparently making all the effort he could to keep things down.

'The cop.' He whispered. 'The one that killed my brother. He is... Fuck, that piece of shit, he is standing right there!'

The tone in which those words were said was more than enough for The Boss to understand what he wanted to do. Better than most, she understood a couple of things about revenge. What wouldn't she give to have fate granting her with such an opportunity, concerning Troy.

'Get in the car. Let's see what he's up to.'

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

A black limo drove around the district smoothly, the driver taking his time to go slowly so the two clients had their fun with some hookers on the back.

It drove around the hood in loop for a while, and now, it approached a quieter area full of abandoned buildings, bums and drunkards.

The clients were heavily entertained, it took a while before they realized that the limo was now squeezed at a small and dark alley.

'What the fuck is wrong? I'm not going to tip that asshole.' The bald man turned to his friend, who happened to be the same middle aged man with unpleasant blue eyes we saw before.

'Hey, buddy, the strip club is that way!' The bright eyed man tapped on the retractile barrier that separated the two parts of the car, meant for privacy.

But before he got an answer a pair of angry arms opened the doors and pulled him out of the car.

'Fuck it! What is going on?!'

The bald guy pulled a taser and successfully used it on his aggressor's arm, but a woman appeared of nowhere, bandana covering her face, and banged a car stand brutally against his skull.

His friend got of the car and drew a gun but she shot him first and pushed him on the floor, kicking him so hard on the leg that a sound of broken bone was heard, along with a blood curdling scream.

She promptly silenced him with another shot on the chest, before he could draw more attention.

The strippers screamed and didn't waste time to go ghost, leaving the only standing client to deal with the situation.

Carlos lifted and pressed Hector's murder against the wall, his Glock tight on the man's forehead, spiting on his face before he pulled the trigger.

Part of the bald head exploded, leaving a red trail over the bricks as his body slid limply on the ground.

He stood there for a moment, watching the dead man, unable to think. A huge relief was washing through his body, mixed with hurt, like he was standing again on that tragic night in that parking lot, watching Hector's head split similarly with a bullet, and his body too falling without any life on it.

A soft hand on his shoulder brought him back to reality, pressing it for comfort.

'It's done' He said.

'Let's move, we can't afford to stay here.'

The Boss' advice was justified. Not far from them, faint sirens sounds were approaching.

They regained the streets and mixed with the crowd without walking too fast, trying not to draw attention. The Boss' studio was still a bit far ahead.

But Carlos suddenly stopped. He felt a sharp pain and brought a hand to his sides. He checked it in surprise, and it was covered in blood.

The cut from the shank he received in prison was open, probably from the effort he did to draw that guy out of the car. Blood was soaking his white tank top. It was nothing life threatening, but if they were stopped by the police that wound would be very hard to explain.

Now that the adrenaline lowered he was feeling the pain fully, the effect of the taser making him want to puke.

He twisted the fabric in his fist, trying to make it less visible or at least to keep all that blood from spreading, and hurried to catch up with The Boss.

'Are you ok?' The Boss asked as they walked, a bit worried as his skin was now even paler than it usually was.

'I'm fine, I'm just dizzy from the shock.'

'Here.' She passed his arm around her shoulders, pretending to be a couple as she guided him through the streets.

'Two more blocks and we're there. It will be fine, Carlos. I will take care of you.'

As they turned the corner, a bad surprise awaited.

'Shit.' She whispered as she spotted a couple of Five O's rolling slowly, as if looking for something. 'Don't look.'

Without a choice, they kept walking towards it. It would be too suspicious if they backed out.

'Talk to me, about anything'. She whispered to him as they tried and engaged casual conversation, doing their best to look like boyfriend and girlfriend and go unnoticed.

One cop inside the car casted his eyes suspiciously on the couple, checking to see if there was anything unusual about them, but to their luck screams from a prostitute fight across the street drew the officer's attention.

It was a relief when they finally arrived at the studio. She laid Carlos over the old mattress and rolled up his wife beater to inspect the wound.

It was bleeding less, but trails of blood went down to his legs, showing that he had lost some blood. But needless to say a hospital wasn't a good idea.

'I have nothing here to clean your cut.'

'You're not thinking about going out there again tonight, are you? It's not safe yet! I will be fine tomorrow all it takes is some rest.' He argued, pressing his shirt over the wound, but she wasn't convinced.

'I've got this. I know a place that is open and far from here.' She checked her pockets. 'Damn. I don't think I have enough on me. Where is your wallet?'

'Uh, I left it over there.' He said, after a short hesitation, pointing to the old armchair.

The Boss reached for it only to find nothing inside. This kid was even more broken than she was.

She couldn't help but smile fondly, realizing that he must have spent his last bucks at Freckle Bitch's. She said she would pay for her part, but he insisted, and didn't even hesitate before parting from his last cents just to make a gesture for her.

'Where you're going?'

'I am going to mug someone for cash, it's not like I've never done it before.'

'You nuts? There are cops everywhere, forget it! I won't let you do it.'

The Boss sighed, pouting.

He was right.

There was only one thing left to do then...

'You and I had a short life together.' She though, bitterly caressing the leather of her fine designer jacket. 'Easy come, easy go.'

'Just thought of something. I'll be back.'

The Boss opened the door and carefully checked the environment, then rushed to the pawn shop, hopping it was still open. This was a risk, but there was no other choice.

What she got was a ridiculous deal for the article, but enough to buy all that was necessary to fix Carlos.

Back in the studio, she patched the shank wound with the improvisation and expertise of someone who had seen more than her share of knife injures.

'Thanks.' Carlos said to The Boss, who was kneeling next to him on the mattress, the warm and kind gratitude in his eyes making her unease.

'Heh. Just returning a favor.'

She covered Carlos with a blanket and got up, but he noticed that she was shivering a little.

'What is it, you're cold?'

'Hm, no it's fine.' She tried to sound natural, unfolding the arms she had crossed over her chest, without noticing. The truth was that she was freezing, but she thought that if he knew what happened to her coat he would probably feel bad.

Carlos frowned a bit, his eyes going from side to side, like he was figuring something out, but finally closed them, completely washed out.

The sound of regular breathing was all that could be heard in the room, telling her that he was asleep. She made herself as comfortable as possible on the armchair, nesting there for the night.

Chapter Text

I spent most of the night chilling my freaking ass out on that chair. But, despite this, I must admit that I was surprised to find out that haven't felt so calm and well in a long time. I turned my head slightly on the pillow I was leaning over to look at my friend, who was sleeping exhausted over the mattress. My lips split in a grateful smirk as I realized he was responsible for that pleasant feeling. He was a good kid and I noticed that his presence did me very well.

My lids, however, were very heavy so I shifted and turned, trying to find a more comfortable position to go back to sleep, when I heard steps approaching from my back. Carlos threw his warm blanket over me, and at that point it felt amazing.

'What time is it?' I asked him, seeing that he was already half dressed.

'Shh. Go back to sleep. I gotta go to the cemetery, but I will be back.' He turned to the broken mirror so he could adjust his clothes.

'Wha… Cemetery? What the fuck for?' I asked, surprised.

'Remember I told you about my roommate?'

'Yup.' I replied, half asleep.

'He is name is Bruno, he is a groundskeeper at the "Mourning Woods".' He started to explain while he hastily slipped in his shoes.

'What are you gonna do?'

'Crash a burial and toll his car. That oughta make him change his mind.'

I pulled a face and joked, imagining the scene: 'Wow. Remind me to always pay my debts with you.'

'You already did…' He said while he came closer and grabbed my hand, putting something on it. 'Take my phone. I'll call you later.'

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

At the exact same time that Carlos has closed the door of the studio on the Red Light District, Johnny Gat was leaving Aisha's house in the suburbs. We'll see that the ex convict entered his vintage car and left the garage with a formidable and totally unnecessary maneuver. He reached for the glove box and traded his regular glasses for stylish dark shades, the accessory adding more points to the infinite score of his bad ass attitude.

Not the Gat needed any.

The man was a legend, and his appearance walked hand in hand with his attitude. Born from Asian immigrants, he was bulky and tall. He dressed in classy clothes with hardly some bling, and one could almost forget he was a gangster if his outfit wasn't so tight and his short hair didn't have very light ends on it.

Was Gat handsome? Well, his face didn't have the striking harmony of Carlos' traits, for instance, but his crazy personality had a huge impact on his appearance, making him far more irresistible than many other men with perfect looks.

He did a couple of stunts on the empty streets, as if to remind himself of what freedom felt like.

Johnny opened the windows as he stared at the moving city, in desperate need of feeling the wind and letting those two years of prison behind. The passionate night of sex he had with the woman he loved the night before erased most of the shadows that've been plaguing him. Now all Gat needed was to pick up things where he left off ten years ago. And for that, he needed his best friend.

The car picked a turn under a sign that read 'Red Light District' and our driver accelerated, excited to see The Boss and thinking how much he missed that crazy bitch.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

'Who is it?' I asked carefully as I heard a low knock on the door.

'It's the Easter fucking bunny and I have two huge eggs for you.'

I chuckled, shaking my head fondly and putting my gun down. Gat! How much time passed since I last heard him say offensive shit like that.

I rolled myself on the blanket and hurried to open.

'Nice beard Gat!' I glanced at him and then joked noticing his new atempt to grow facial hair: 'Looks like my pussy when I was twelve.'

'Fuck off.' He said, amused. 'Hey, why is your hair all screwed up?'

'I was sleeping motherfucker, what do you think? Come here!'

We hugged each other happily and tight just like the day before.

'Come in.'

'Eesh sent you croissants and clothes, and I some hard stuff.' He tossed me a heavy brown bag and I grinned.

'Vodka before 7 am. I missed you, Gat!' I opened the bottle and took a long swig before passing it to him. 'What's the occasion?'

'I called a contact from prison, she found us a place to start fresh.' He said, excited, as he cleaned his mouth with the back of his hand before taking a drag himself.

'I'm loving it! So, what is the catch?' I asked him while bitting on a croissant with a meaningful glance.

'We have to evict the current residents.' He grinned back with fake innocence.

I tilted my head with laughter, satisfied. Both of us were dying for some action.

'I was hoping you would say that.'

'Let me call home then, and say I will be long.' He took out his phone.

'Ball and chain, huh Gat? I would never thought I would live to see the day.' I made fun of him as he dialed. 'We should go do some noise, get the city talking about us again. If people don't find out The Saints are back, how we're going to earn respect to recruit members?'

'Excellent! Just please, let me come with you…!'

Gat sounded excited like a child on the way to Disneyland, but suddenly I heard a melodic voice pick up the phone and cut us in, suspicious:

'Hello?! Johnny you just got out of jail! If I hear you're trying to go back by doing some stupid shit..!'

Gat made a face and quickly covered the mic with his hand, busted.

That was his girl, Eesh.

Not officially a Saint, but most of the gang adored her.

For my part I loved and feared her.

Me and Johnny, we were just noisy brats next to all the elegance and wiseness that was Aisha. I've always laughed on the inside every time I saw the toughest motherfucker on earth that was my best friend, bend into an obedient puppy whenever she got mad. But truth to be told, she had some sort of weird authority over us... And if she pulled my ear, I obeyed too, cuz I felt that not only she was a much better person than me, she was also right most of the time.

I guess it all explained why he was so quick to pull his sweetest voice and feign surprise:

'Hello sweetheart! No! The Boss and I are just going to hit the fast food and I might take a bit. You wanna something?'

Silence.

I knew Aisha was hesitating to decide if she believed his story or not.

'Hmm. Ok then... Tell her I say hi.' She said, not totally convinced.

Truth to be told, Eesh wasn't suspicious for nothing: She knew that when we got together we did such a bunch of stupid craziness that one of us risked losing an arm, a leg, or our lives altogether.

That day, for instance, we went downtown to get a load more of whiskey and stole a quad bike. We thought it would be fun to make zig zag between lamp posts while wasted.

This time I had the idea to roll the Toad over the train rails as we saw the train approaching. As long as the actual road was just next it was fine, but the thrill felt too good and we pushed it. Soon we were driving over the suspended bridge, the whole city appearing at the horizon, wind blowing wildly and the slight mistake meaning instant death.

We've felt extremely alive whenever we were pulling crazy shit like this, and needed extreme stimulation often. When you play with the limits that lead to death often, you learn to appreciate those tiny things in your life and to live for the here and now. Any worries that would stop you from enjoying the present moment mean shit after that.

Johnny was having a great time on the back, and true to his form, gave a more than surprised conductor the finger as we drove off, chuckling in delight.

When a bit of road appeared, connecting to the rails, I drove away but the landing was less than perfect. I am a terrible driver, most of my driving skills come from the Demolition Derby, and was more often used hitting stuff rather than avoiding it.

The Quad's front wheels were caught in a bump of the road, the violent impact threw me and Gat out. We went flying like two little birds and landed, to our luck, over some grass.

'Wow! That was cute...' He said, helping me to get up. 'You really don't know how to turn without making a power slide, now do you?'

'The Toad is dead.' I inspected, casually wiping a bit of blood from my forehead with my cuff.

Our day out had just begun so we kept our eyes open for a nice car we could do stunts with.

We took a walk to the high end stores on the fancy side of the city, and made our choice with a black and shiny sedan in the mall's parking. Gat broke the window with one punch and I slid to the other seat while he wired the car.

At this point we were totally fucked up so it seemed like a great idea to something we never dared to consider sober:

Back in the days when we thought Troy was one of us and our friend Lynn was still alive, the four of us used to go this tiny, cheap bar at the trailer park district. That place had a variety of abandoned structures and construction sites that would make any stunts man's paradise.

In particular, there was a high detached bridge that was never completed, but that no one bothered removing from the ground. It looked like the long neck of a dinosaur coming out of the earthy grounds.

Johnny and Lynn often loved to discuss car maneuvers while me and Troy got drunk and we all bragged about our driving skills. Every time we went to the bar we watched that ramp from the window and promised (bulshiting, of course) that one day we would jump that shit.

Remembering this we drove our new sedan to the trailer district, trusting the idea.

When we aligned the car right in front of the bridge, Gat and I looked at each other, hesitating, and when we realized how high that shit was, it suddenly didn't seemed like such a great idea anymore. But that was the fun of it.

I glanced at his face, bitting on his lower lip fiercely and even if Johnny always held his shit together really well, I was pretty sure that he was feeling the same expectation I was. My breath was altered, stomach had a sinking feeling, it was all anxiety. My hands were weak and digging on the leather of the seat under me. My heart pumped blood so fast I could feel the pressure in my veins.

I closed my eyes as he put the car on reverse and gained distance to speed up towards the bridge, holding my breath.

Gat didn't even wait when we had enough space, he accelerated so we couldn't think it twice.

The car shook from the speed and I opened my eyes in the moment I felt things tilted up and we kept going towards the nothing at the end of the bridge.

It was like time slowed down. The falling sensation on my stomach was overwhelming. Our vehicle literally flew away.

The next thing I recall was a fierce hit like an earthquake, Gat screaming something like 'Shit' and the world turning upside down.

Without thinking and with the lag from the alcohol, we both forced the door open and jumped outside.

We knew what was going to follow.

Me and my friend escaped just in time to turn and see the black sedan with its four wheels pointing up, consumed by flames.

I remember I said to Gat as this sigh gave me a strong craving:

'Do you have a smoke?'

He was half lying on the floor and laughed his ass out at those words. Wasted, I grabbed the pack of cigs he tossed to me and laughed too, so much my sides ached.

But immediately I got sick from all the laughing, turned to my side and puked.

I don't think I've ever heard one motherfucker laugh harder in his entire life. Gat came closer to check on me as I wiped my mouth, and only then we took notice that a bit of his shirt was on fire. Naturally, I laughed hysterically like a bitch to see him drunkenly rolling around the ground to put it off after making fun of me.

After we calmed down, a bit of good sense came back and I worryingly patted over Johnny's clothes with my hands in an attempt to clean them, asking:

'Shit. Now how are we going to explain those burned clothes to Aisha?'

'What would you rather have on your man's shirt? Burns or a lipstick mark?'

'Good point.'

'Nah, she's still gonna kill me.'

'That fancy store "Impressions" it's open at this hour. We could buy an identical shirt, or hold the store altogether, your call.'

'Fuck.' He smiled. 'I knew you were my best friend for a reason.'

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

The continuous alarm was hitting on our nerves, but it was not like we've never done this before.

I twisted the clerk's arm and forced his face down to the counter as the piece touched the back of his head.

Gat started to pick up the cash, the nice clothing and the bling from the store. He opened the largest leather bag he found on the window and started to toss everything inside, randomly bitching about the abusive prices of Stephan's creations.

'Yo, uptight staff. What size would you recommend for a vest?' He asked the terrified clerk as he stood in front of the mirror, casually.

Only after a few moments the hostage had the courage to stutter an answer, and keep doing his job despite the situation:

'For you, sir? L would be perfect.'

'Bulshit!' Gat reacted, pointing to his pecs. 'If I work my ass on this babies its not to hide them.'

I laughed, mocking my friend:

'Seriously Gat, he is right. You wear your clothes way too tight. Do you put them in the machine to shrink?'

'Oh, fuck you Boss! And what about you and that miniskirt? You should watch out when you sit like a dude, everyone can see your underwear.'*

'Bullshit.'

'Oh yeah?' Then answer this: 'Why do you only wear them pink Boss?'

I was standing in my usual way but upon hearing it crossed my legs in a feeling of self awareness.

'Oh, fuck... Really?'

Johnny chuckled.

'Not that I'm complaining. It's not bad to look at.'

'Fuck off. Wait 'till I tell Aisha 'bout this.'

Gat scratched the side of his mouth while his mocking smile dissolved a bit.

'Don't.'

We took our time to chose from the fine design articles. Whenever I saw something that I liked, I asked him to pick it up for me. He would ask my opinion on jewelry for Eesh as well. It was kind of like shopping, but without the long lines and worrying about the credit card bill.

When it was done we rushed to the back door where we regained the crowd coming out of the train station. We tossed the bandanas we used to cover our faces away and calmly mingled with the rest of the people.

Gat looked at me and we hit our hands together in a friendly hand bump, proud to be back.

'This promotional tour was fun, but we should get going.' He said after a while. 'I am gonna call my contact. Shaundi will meet us there.'

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

'Sshhh, quiet Gat! God damn let's not give them a heads up!' The Boss cursed lowly at his friend and poked him angrily with her elbow.

Gat just had the last swig from the bottle of the hard stuff and threw it against the wall, causing it to shatter in a thousand pieces.

The place they were had terrible acoustics for been undercover. One fart upstairs probably echoed as high as a bomb in the underground of the old mission house.

It was an abandoned and decrepit church, the paint on the walls was cracked and loaded with tags, here and there on the rotten wood floor, piled trash and debris of the furniture that belonged to the church.

'It's kind of a shit hole.' The Boss whispered, unimpressed.

'True dat. But is a shit hole with potential. Check that out.'

Gat's contact, a beautiful blond girl with pot head allure named Shaundi, looked around to make sure they were alone. She pushed on a broken baptismal font, revealing a concealed door and passageway towards the underground.

'Would you look at that. This is huge. I would never have guessed there was all this space down there.' The Boss glanced at the large and well illuminated tunnel, finally convinced that maybe this place was perfect to be turned into a new HQ.

'How come they built all that under a church?' Gat asked their guide.

'They didn't'. Shaundi explained as the trio started to climb down the wooden stairs. 'It was the church that was built on top of a hotel after the great earthquake of 49. This part of the city went below sea level and they found it easier to just build things on top of the old neighborhood… Oh! Shit.' She stopped herself with an involuntary shiver as they reached a door with a green gang tag on it.

Two snakes sliding through the mouth of a skull.

It wasn't pleasant to look at, and Shaundi, as an ex-member of The Sons of Samedi, knew that the gang in question was everything but pleasant. They were mostly Jamaican, and honestly, insane voodoo bangers. The image of a stomach-turning ritual she witnessed while she rolled with them flashed in her imagination.

'Don't worry Shaundi.' Gat put one reassuring hand on the shoulder of his prison pal. 'They'll be dead before they know you led us here.'

But he interrupted himself and quieted down. There were voices coming from the hotel below.

'We're going in. Here.' The Boss slipped Shaundi a semi automatic pistol.

'I never used one of these, you know…' The hippie girl confessed to The Boss.

'You gotta be kidding me.' She looked at Gat, pissed, and he shrugged.

'She is amazing in tactics, you'll see.' He guaranteed.

'She better.' The Boss shook her head grumpily and charged Shaundi's gun, holding the pistol in the girl's hands between hers. 'Here. If someone approaches, you just point and press the trigger, but for fuck's sake keep yourself at cover.'

'All right.' Shaundi replied with a relaxed smile.

The Boss found this easygoing attitude a bit too relaxed for the situation they were about to face, but got it as soon as she approached Shaundi's face and saw her super red eyes:

'Wait a sec. Are you high?!'

'Yeah, you want some?'

The Boss shook her head hopelessly, kicked the door open and the shooting started.

'Our comeback is going well so far…'

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Anxiously, Carlos tapped his fingers over the side of the public phone he was using, waiting for The Boss to pick up. It rang endlessly for the third time and he was about to give it up when she finally picked up.

Carlos expected to hear her voice, but instead was surprised by a chain of loud detonations on the other side of the line.

'Jesus, what's going on over there?'

-'We're taking over the underground… Hang on.'-

He took his ear further away from the speaker to avoid the unpleasant sound of more bullets coming out of the Boss' gun.

-'Will you die, asshole?!' He heard her shout, and when there was silence she resumed their conversation. 'Phew, done. Sorry. Never needed so many bullets to take out motherfuckers before, I swear! They take like, forever to die!'-

Carlos had known some members of the Sons of Samedi while he was in jail, where he heard some pretty weird rumors regarding the gang:

'Actually, there is a bit of a legend about that. Back at the big house people said that their voodoo rituals granted them endurance and pain threshold…'

But The Boss wasn't interested in the supernatural, in fact, she was more focused on the practical side of bringing the Saints back together. She scolded at his answer:

-'Honestly, Carlos. Who believes this bullshit? Bring your ass back to the old mission house, we need help dumping the bodies.'-

She cut.

'So much for my first assignment.' He thought as he hanged up the phone and entered Bruno's car. Even if he was a bit disappointed with himself at what just happened, he couldn't help but feel a lot of excitement about becoming a Saint.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Under the mission house there was a whole part of the city that survived and got separated from the surface. A little forgotten world of its own: Empty stores, a square with a fountain, and an entire hotel that we were quick to choose for its commodities. It had no water though, which meant no working WCs and no showers. The walls lost most of their panting and the floor was cracking. It stank of abandonment. Only by a grill from a high tunnel that surrounded the place, some light from the street came in.

The hotel had a big salon decorated with a broken greek statue and large stairs, where we were all reunited.

My heart shivered with emotion as the applauses, whistles and screams filled the room when me and Shaundi grabbed a spray and drew a tag with our symbol, a Fleur de Lys, on the wall.

The underground now was officially the Saints HQ.

Home.

It felt like that even if we just moved in our stuff. Maybe it was because Gat was there with me, and once again people dressed in purple after a long time.

Full of hope and ambition, I watched proudly over our new crew, even if for now, they were no more than a dozen.

They were occupied with the initiating rite: In order to become a Saint you had to got through a hand to hand fight with five other members. It didn't matter if you won or got beaten, as long as you endured it. We all went through it. Needless to say, Gat was the one in charge for it, as he didn't care if he was on the delivering or receiving end of the punches as long as here was violence involved.

My attention switched as I saw our new contact come in. Pierce was a tall African American, with some build and dressed in sports clothes. He came closer followed by Carlos, both had some bruises indicating they had been already jumped in.

All our Lieutenants were reunited so we started our first official briefing.

Pierce was quick to cut in and speak before the others:

'So here is the deal, we'll have to fight our way with the three gangs that control Stilwater now. You won't regret putting me in charge of The Ronin, Boss! I can see you trust my potential since this Japanese crew rules half the city…!' He gloated and I frowned, already a bit pissed at his personality.

Indeed, there were yellow dragon tags everywhere I went. They seemed well organized, even if Shaundi told me that their weak point was their leader, whom according to an ex of hers that bartend at his favorite bar, was an air headed metrosexual with little talent for gang leading.

Let me tell you also that Shaundi exes were a thing on their on. It amazed me that half of our info came from that source. I would ask the Lieutenants to get me inside what was on with the gangs, drug deals, hideouts, cash incoming. She would always be the one to give me a time, a place, names and say to my awe: 'I know this ex that…' or 'I have an ex that is in the…'

Holy shit. Back in the day we had to kill or torture people, risk our skin for lesser than that.

This girl was a golden acquisition for The Saints!

In less than 20 minutes she gave me more info on what was going on in Stilwater's gang scene than Pierce could in 20 hours. I saw how he comically couldn't hide his jealousy.

Just then I took notice of Carlos, who was in the background and didn't say anything so far. He just watched, shyly, listening attentively to everyone and hesitating to say his mind. His shirt had sprinkles of blood and his knuckles were injured, but I never saw him happier.

Even if I was highly concerned about business had to get out of it to grin at him for a bit.

'Carlos.' I said with high regard, asking for his advice and inviting him to join the conversation. I wanted to show him that he was as much of a Lieutenant as the other two, a man of my trust. He needed to gain more confidence, I knew he could succeed once he cleared those issues. 'What is your view on The Brotherhood?'

His eyes looked for mine and he started more confidently:

'So, those truck freaks, they're also tattoo lovers, but don't get fooled: The town is in their got their strings all over the sports, at the arena, and the demo Derby. The Brotherhood owns way less territory than The Ronin and The Samedi, but they hold it for years and never lost a hood once they got it under their control in nine whole years. Pretty fucking impressive if you ask me. Maybe we could try an alliance first and see how things roll, rather than having to fight a gang like that.'

I nodded and once each Lieutenant was assigned with a gang we fired some rounds on the ceiling to mark our comeback and started a little celebration with some party favors me and Gat bought with the money from the store we robbed.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Carlos gladly opened another beer and while he cheered with his fellow Lieutenants, he still couldn't believe it. He was in.

He remembered the surprised look Johnny had on his face to see him amongst the lieutenants. But anyway, Gat merely nodded to greet him. He was relieved, then promptly forgot about it to curiously check the place and the other gang members.

Kind of easily he and Pierce got to chit chat and turns out in spite the fact that the Lieutenant was ridiculously full of himself, he was also pretty bright and knew how to keep interesting conversation.

Gat, over the side as he watched the party, was thinking though: How come The Boss, from the top of her experience chose this kid to be a first hand Lieutenant, with the task of commanding a war over a vicious gang like the Brotherhood? Gat knew Carlos from jail, that he was actually intelligent, more than Pierce or Shaundi in his opinion. Under that insecure facade he knew that he had balls and instinctively respected him as an equal but, the ex-inmate looked up to everyone here as some kind of groupie. He had no confidence nor ambition to pull leading a crew. He thought she was doing a mistake to give that huge responsibility to someone like that, and was going to point it out for the Saint's own benefit.

It was the end of the night, Shaundi and Pierce got back to their homes after chillin' and briefly talking about some details concerning their responsibilities. Most of the new canonized members also left, apart those few who were actually had nowhere to go and from now on would live at the hideout. Carlos was amongst them, he had been crashing at Bruno's tiny studio and thought that it might be better to make a nest there.

The Boss was chatting with Johnny for a bit, discussing the next moves and then decided to head for her bedroom.

'So, about this Carlos kid...'

But Gat got interrupted as Carlos called her middle way up the stairs.

'Boss?' He asked shyly, eyes on the ground. 'Hm, could you help me moving my stuff from the car?'

She seemed tired but as she turned her head to see who was speaking, her expression changed and she nodded friendly:

'Sure. Have you picked a room yet?'

'Yeah, well, I thought it would be ok...'

'Course it is. This is our home now...'

'Are you going to sleep right away? Cuz I thought you might want a beer.' He handed her a bottle, keeping another one for himself and looking at her anxiously as if desperate to prove he knew how to be of service.

'So?' She said on purpose to please him a bit and put him more at ease. 'Officially a Saint Lieutenant tonight. Your brother would've been proud.'

The Boss took a gold watch from her pocket and closed it herself around Carlos wrist. 'A little gift from "Impressions", for busting me out.'

Gat immediately understood it was useless to say a thing. She liked this kid, the kind tone she almost never used with anyone was obvious. He felt the need to respect his best friend's and boss' decision and decided to say nothing, but couldn't help but think that her affection for him was blinding her. Well, could he really have something to say when he too actually covered up for Carlos a few hours ago? There was something disarming about this kid, maybe the way he was somewhat vulnerable and eager for praise. Or that weird and sweet charisma he had and that imposed itself whenever he entered a room, making him own everyone on it. It didn't slip through Gat's perception that The Boss was the one most affected by it. Indeed, he knew her for a long time, and was surprised that he never saw her been all kind and displaying affection like this with anyone. However, he was pretty sure that she didn't have a clue that this kid was obviously infatuated with her or she wouldn't have opened her guard like that.

Carlos went to fetch his stuff and gave The Boss a brief grateful look.

'Thanks. Yeah, I he would.' His voice was smiling.

They kept talking bit as they moved the stuff from the trunk of the car to a tiny room at the beginning of a long hallway.

It didn't take more than one trip to bring all of Carlos belongings. He lost most of his stuff, and just like her was starting from scratch.

'Well, this is it.' She said, dropping the last satchel over the bed.

'By the way Boss, this is yours.' He opened a zipper bag and handed her a leather jacket.

She smiled as she identified the object, pleasantly surprised, putting it over her shoulders as she caressed the leather. 'Wow, I didn't think I would see you anymore, baby.' Her gaze turned to Carlos who was grinning, satisfied with her reaction. 'That is why I couldn't retrieve it.'

'Sorry I beat you to it.'

'Carlos this is great.' She thanked, putting a hand on his shoulder as his pale skin turned tomato red for a moment.

'Nah. It was nothing…'

'Hmm, so… Try not to party so much tonight. I have work for you and everyone tomorrow. We need to do something about this shithole, get the water going or something.

'Good night. And Boss?'

'Yup?'

'Thank you.'

She winked back at him:

'Later.'

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Carlos had his eyes wide open, head in the pillow, at one of those moments you're dead tired but so damn excited about something you try hard not to sleep just to enjoy the sensation a bit more.

Funny that, ever since he could remember, going to bed would usually wake up this brief bout of melancholy. Something inside him would sting as if it was missing something. But now he noticed, surprised, that this sensation wasn't present that night, but rather a great feeling.

A lot changed in a few days, maybe that was why? From jail to freedom, from having nothing to being named a Lieutenant in the gang he so often dreamed about belonging one day, even if as a wannabe. From having an empty heart to, now, this was weird...

He stared at the gold watch he had left at the nightstand and thought:

The Boss... How important she had become in his life in the space of a few days. It was like, now he belonged to someone, even if it wasn't quite clear in his head.

He decided to classify it under 'loyalty to his gang leader' and leave it there, not ruining the all perfectness of this day with too much thinking.

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The next day The Boss woke up around 10 am, for the first time under the roof that now would be their new home.

If her room was a bit bigger than the others, the condition was just as shitty.

At least she had a bed now, a private bathroom even if it didn't work yet. The only way to take a shower was to use a hose connected to the sole pipe that actually worked on that place. The water was stone cold, but who cared, access to everyday hygiene compensated that.

She dried herself on the Freckle Bitch's shirt she won with her menu the other night and that she wore to sleep, put some new, purple clothing, and headed for the main room.

She waved as she passed by Carlos, who was already up taking care of the place, removing any useless shit that accumulated there, then sat on an old and thorn armchair.

'Morning Boss!' Pierce said as he came in, handling her a newspaper.

Gat was leaning on the bar, a beer already in his hand.

'Johnny, look. We're at las sociales de los pobres** again'.

Gat poked his head behind her shoulder, then sat at the corner of the couch:

'I luv when we make the crime section. Move your ass.'

They approached their heads to read the article:

'Saints Resurrected!'

Gat folded the newspaper, satisfied.

'So, what's our next step?'

'I say we start by crippling those Ronin, keep their territory and their profit.'

'Pierce told me about a casino, I'm thinking, easy cash couldn't be easier.'

'You think we could take them?'

'Blindfolded, Boss.'

Pierce couldn't help but notice that they were really close, and pretty much alike, but also in the complementary sense. Sometimes opposites attract, but in this case alikeness did the job pretty well. One was always extending and continuing the other's actions with perfect synchronization, like the two legs of a same person, walking forward.

Seeing them planning and talking about stuff they wanted to accomplish gave him the impression that, together, Gat and The Boss were not only much stronger, but also invincible.

Johnny was even more capable than her, probably more than anyone that he knew. Alone he was kind of a rebel without a cause, focusing more on making trouble than in a precise objective. That changed when they met.

The Boss had the undying thirst and ability to take and take more, and also the boldness to do accomplish the impossible.

And now these elements got combined... The Third Street Saints were born again.

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*If you ever played a cutscene in SR2 with your female character in a skirt, you'll know what this is about. XD

** Social columns of the poor, slang for crime section.

Hope you are enjoying it!

Chapter Text

The casino deal succeeded: And with that, The Saints were back. The Poseidon Casino was robbed; the money taken to Aisha's place for safety. That mistake would have sad consequences in the future for Johnny Gat, as the Ronin were, of course, not happy about it. Their cash was stolen and now they were diminished in the eyes of their Big Boss Akuji, Shogo's father.

On the Saints' side, however, this easy money cheered the crew and reinforced their confidence.

Even better, The Saints also got their 15 minutes of fame on the daily news, it was the first time Stilwater heard of them on TV in years.

So much noise got the attention of the most of ambitious son of a bitch you'll probably ever meet, highly placed in the Ultor Company: Dane Vogel.

He had more than one reason to care. First, Ultor had business with the Ronin. The fact they were so easily attacked showed just how much Shogo couldn't take care of business when his father wasn't around. Just like in stock market, you need to get out before they go down. Now the Saints market value just went from zero to high in the space of a few days. Dane decided to jump, and take this new opportunity to his profit.

Not much could be done officially, but since big companies can afford to muffle everything with the right amount of cash and influence, all it took was one call to the chief of police.

Troy was pissed about it, useless to say. The last thing he wanted was to go near the Saints again. So he picked someone else for the job…

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'Wait, aren't we supposed to be concerned about arresting these people? I came here to fight criminals, not make friends with them?'

'Its not all bad, Max.' Troy tried to make it sound better than it actually was. 'It will help us taking The Ronin down.'

'And who will take The Saints down?'

Troy found nothing to counter that, and replied with a tired sigh:

'We're out of staff, money and organization. We're in no position of being picky.'

'Oh, is that so? You don't seem too thrilled about the idea either buddy.'

'Look, I am going to be honest with you. I hate to lower my pants and bend every time one of those yuppie motherfuckers want something done from us. But you have no idea the amount of pressure Ultor is putting on me for this. Without their support the PD can't survive in this city.'

Max heard this one before, many times. He understood it was useless to argue, Ultor wouldn't leave them alone. And Troy probably couldn't find anyone else for the job, if he dared to ask him this. He respected him, and decided to accept it, thinking he kind of had a natural telent to attract shit more than anyone else in the planet.

'So what do we have to do?'

'The Ronin are holding a porn ring at Ultor's Science museum. They need to stop the activity there.'

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First impressions on The Brotherhood:

It was a disaster. Not only the cops interrupted their meeting with Maero, the tattoo freak son of a bitch had the nerve make an insult, instead of an offer concerning the Saints and The Brotherhood siding up.

To top that, The Boss bumped into Donnie. He was the coward bastard who run away when she and Lin, one of her best friends at the time, were about to be pushed into the canal inside the trunk of Lin's car.

On Carlos side it wasn't great either, not only his first attempt as a Lieutenant failed, he also had the displeasure of meeting Maero's girlfriend, Jessica. She was quick put him back at the place where she thought he belonged, comparing him to a house cleaner.

They left the factories district, pissed, The Boss driving while Carlos was explaining to her hotly:

'I swear Boss, I've delivered Pizzas before, but I never, ever, cleaned up someone's house in my life!'

'Huh, ok.' She replied as she raised an eyebrow unsurely, not knowing what to do with that. Her mind was on more urgent matters to be honest.

He checked himself in the front mirror and turned his face from side to side.

'Do you think it's my cap?' He removed the purple knit hat briefly and The Boss got a glimpse of his hair. Weird hair cut... Yeah, now she kind of understood why he kept that thing on his head all the time.

She sighed and tilted her head backward, taking the cap off his hands and throwing it back on his lap, slightly losing her temper. He was supposed to think as a Lieutenant and be focused on how they were going to get back at those assholes, like she was now. He didn't get it... They just declared war on each other and all he retained from that conversation was a random insult from Maero's racist bitch. Something had to be done about his lack of confidence, it was getting him nowhere fast.

'Will you let it go? They're fucking neo nazi, skinheads, I dunno, whatever shit you want to name them. She is a fucking racist, didn't you get that?'

'Still... She didn't say anything about you.'

'Of course she didn't Carlos because I'm not all sweet like you, looking for acceptance all the time and I don't enter their turf showing how much I'm impressed by the guy's godamn trucks'

She almost said it out loud in the intent of making him mind his attitude but thought it to be too brutal, and decided to take the friendly road, replying indulgently:

'No but Maero did. And do you think I was never discriminated because of my origins? Of course I was. Some people are like this. What can I say? If you can't shoot them, just ignore them... Relax... We'll think of something.'

This remark made him feel a bit better, like this wasn't an exclusive thing related to him been lame or something, like he most often tended to think.

He looked at her, more assured, and nodded.

'You don't look like a house cleaner, chill.'

She shook her head, thinking that someday soon she should start been blunt with him when needed, or he would never learn to pull this job right, use his potential. One look towards his now relaxed and innocent face, drumming his fingers on the cars' to the song on the radio made her change her mind and chuckle in afectuous forfeit. 'Not today anyway'.

He was often so quiet, only his smart mouth made a quick appearance from time to time. Always in the background, trying his best to go unnoticed. Sometimes you would just forget about him. But he was always present when needed, with an useful solution, or solid support.

She remembered what happened a while ago, when they were been chased and lost trying to escape the caverns.

He fought their opponents with the same efficiency and tenacity she witnessed when they were escaping the island.

Even when he was surrounded.

One security guard grabbed his neck, a second would probably shoot him.

She aimed too and was about to take out the aggressor, but he was quicker to counter that, smashing his knee with his foot, then pounding the man's jaw with the back of his head, promptly sending him to the ground, while with his free hand he shot the second one with impressive precision.

'If we go up, we're hitting the street. If we go down, we're taking a boat out of here.'

He figured it all out already, much quicker than she would in spite of the experience she had. She remembered how she paused for a moment, smiling on the inside, feeling proud for him. If it wasn't for the fact that he didn't believe in himself, Carlos would have been a hell of a Banger. But she would make him work on that.

'I'm sorry I'm boring you with my stuff.' He said, unsurely, feeling her gaze on him.

She smiled again and punched him lightly on the shoulder.

'Not really, Carlos. Now, what we need to do it to find a way to show him who the Saints are.'

His smile broadened to a wide grin at those words, like her recognition meant the world to him.

'Well, he likes trucks, right? Reminds me when Hector and I were kids. There was this neighbor of ours who went to complain to our mother about our cat scratching his car with his claws, so she ended up giving Zorro away. In retaliation, we took stones and scratched the old man's car completely. Now, what if instead of stones, we took some explosives at Samson's and blew his babies away?'

'That is what I want to hear. And that bitch Donnie is working for them now. Two birds, one rock.'

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A couple of weeks later…

Five am sharp Max waited, dressed in jeans, simple shirt and shades at the Humblebolt street where he was supposed to meet the Saints. All that could be done from their side was ready. He had two other policemen under cover waiting for him and the gang at Charred Hard fast food inside the center.

Now it came the hard part. Waiting to know if the Saints would keep their part of the deal.

Not a full minute passed by since he waited and a purple Magma rolled from behind a huge truck it was hidden, three people inside. A woman was the first to step out of it, the same one he saw at the penitentiary days before.

'You Max Payne?'

He nodded, thinking how almost every interaction that started this way ended up bad for him. Things were tense.

'Come in. We're ready.' She continued as he entered the car. 'A little warning, just in case I didn't make myself clear enough on the phone. Don't try to pull any shit on me or any of the boys or you're dead. Now put this on.'

She tossed him a purple bandana to cover his face.

So much for first impressions.

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Max's POV

We tore fast towards the center, radio loud, The Saints all warmed up for the fight.

I took one look at the one driving our car: A small blonde dude, he had a huge bandage peeking from his shirt. He didn't seem nervous in the slightest way, for all I knew he could driving to his death. He was 16 or 17 at most.

The age where those kids should be carrying books to school, instead, they were carrying guns to drive bys.

In spite of everything I couldn't help but have human feelings against those young misfits. I lived enough to feel sorry for them. Having a gang was like having a family. What did they look for? Money to survive, discipline, somewhere to belong, something that gave them pride and value. Shit, in a twisted way, this was really what this was all about.

What sort of difficulties and disappointments shaped them into this? I looked directly at that girls' hazel eyes just once, but it was enough to understand that she why she was so dangerous and feared in that city.

What its more dangerous than a person that has nothing to lose? I knew it by experience.

I wondered what kind of life shaped her into this, and if it was similar to mine.

I sensed immediately that, even if appearances seemed to point otherwise, we were two of a kind. And before I knew it, I felt linked to her, somehow. Understood.

Was it because of this feeling, was it my savior complex, was it because she was so charming, or was the danger that made me feel responsible for her already? I'll never figure it out. It just happened. I rolled with it.

'We're dropping here Gus.' The Leader of the Saints commanded, as they approached the Museum, and he was quick to halt. 'Ready?' She asked the kid and nodded, his eyes peaking over the bandana he too wore, full of determination and excitement. Both gangsters clicked their fingers together in a sign of appreciation and jogged to cross the street, followed by me and the other Saint.

'Third Street!'

It would be redundant to say that people on the street started to withdraw.

The Boss, like they called her, was the first one to kick the doors open, showing that the Saints were not big fans of stealth and tactics. She just swung her arm and 'Baam!' took the first shot at a rival gangster guarding the door.

His head exploded in a bloody mess and splattered pieces of it all over the walls.

It was enough to make most visitors scream and lie on the floor, or run for their lives.

The center was crowded. More than anything right now I hated Ultor for risking the life of so many civilians for nothing, but it was too late to go back. At least five Ronin spotted us and opened fire.

By then panic officially took hold of the place, people were running, bumping onto each other, out of control.

It was hard to see who was in yellow or who was not. Civilians were hit as the Ronin and even the Saints did not hesitate to use one or two as human shields. What did I get myself into this time? I was starting to have a glimpse. But the carnage had just started.

The Ronin had all the advantage over us, they were on the second floor, it was a 'shoot fish on the barrel' situation.

I took cover behind a sign, my ridiculous, outdated chivalry making me look for the Saint girl to see if she was ok.

I must confess couldn't help but notice the way she took things under control. She wasn't perfect at shooting or fighting, but her boldness got her anywhere she wanted.

I was impressed to see that she could wipe a small army of Ronin on her own, often improvising and hardly even seeming to break a sweat.

Was it courage or insanity? She could be really numb when it came to physical pain, hinting that something in that skull was dysfunctional to say the least.

No wonder she and Gat were so loved at the gang. They provided, in a twisted way, a parenting figure for most of gang members. Because of my work, I knew the profile of people who were prone to join street gangs: Apart from the natural disposition to be violent, they came from broken families, lacked a sense of self worth, esteem and unconditional love. Too bad such touching reasons would create such gory results.

Not without difficulty, we made our way up breaking each wave of Ronin resistance.

One of the hardest parts was done, but it wasn't over. So we hurried to the doors that lead one long corridor, and then got the employees part of the center. We received mild support from the two undercover cops who were not so quick to pick up the pace and dragged behind.

As I passed the door, more trouble waited inside.

Great, now we were surrounded.

Been more in numbers the Ronin had tenacity and aggressively responded to every shot, fighting for two for their own survival.

The Boss shot the closest one, successfully taking him out. However, another one who was coming just behind swung his hand in the air, something passing right over her head and landing one step away from me.

'PIPE BOMB! SHIIIIT!' She had the time to warn.

It caused a huge mess, it was a dumb move because it ended up hitting both sides, confined in that closed space.

Then there was this moment of morbid desperation, where the quicker ones to recover had to be even quicker to take out those about to.

I was thrown backwards, not really hurt but mostly stunned. I hadn't yet been able to get up and two men dressed in yellow were already on me, one of them assholes punching my stomach. To be honest I made the task easy for him, bloating it with all the take in and beer I consumed on a regular basis. Meanwhile his little buddy was strangling me. I did all I could, hoping that the others could hold themselves too.

Gus, the little guy, was lucky to be pinned against the wall by the other Saint by chance, who took retreating steps back, unfortunately for him tripping and taking the shots that were meant to hit his friend. He stepped in front of his fallen colleague protectively though, been fast to shoot everyone who was still on the floor.

As I looked for the Boss, saw her brawling on the floor with a Ronin, trying to grab his rifle.

All of that noise served only attract more other gang members, coming out of the other rooms like they were been vomited there.

Arms locked by the brawl, still on the floor, I saw her tilt her head back and even if her vision was now upside down she could still guess the approaching Ronin were going to shoot her within a second. She managed to steal the rifle from the Ronin on top of her, hugging him close to her body so she could fire at the others. Except, this wasn't what you call an ideal scenario to aim. She could take one, but missed the other two.

'Oh Fuck.'

I did my best to help, shooting as many as approached, but our opponents where great at martial arts, so I found myself disarmed in no time.

But then, a single, perfectly placed shotgun shot sent both in the air.

Gus. He was chuckling, and she couldn't help but chuckle back. He didn't forget to watch her back. This Saint was a fucking magician. He already cleaned most of the room in the short space of a few seconds, like he was a small army himself.

Renewed by this she punched her opponent on the forehead with the back of the rifle and in the same motion rolled on top of him, grabbing her gun. Next, I will always remember this 'endearing' display of power, she grabbed the guy by the collar and shoved his head to nearby fire extinguisher, shooting and blowing it along with his brains.

In spite of my disgust, I saw that she and Gus instinctively placed each other right next to the place where me and their friend stood, their backs touching so each one could cover their side of the room, quickly dispatching the last ones who were still ganging on me as well.

I caught by breath, as they checked on their friend who was sitting on the floor, covered in blood.

'This looks pretty bad Boss.' Gus told her.

'Take him back to the hideout now. I am calling Gat to pick you up at the front of the center.'

She finally looked at me, and came closer.

And then, both surprised me, as now their hands were extended in my direction, providing me a solid support to get up.

The Boss tossed me the rifle, keeping the gun. I had to thank them both, sincerely, and even if she tried to hide it, I saw that I just made her unease.

She seemed relieved to have a distraction, quickly answering when her cell phone rang. It was Gat, who had just arrived to pick up the boys.

They retreated to the main room, as she covered their wait out, and I waited for her to return.

We had no problem to take the servers out, ending the dirty business that was kept there.

All that it was left was the money in the counting rooms.

'I guess this is it.' I said. 'They told us to just shoot the money and leave.'

She seemed shocked at this.

'No I am not shooting money, man. This is blasphemy.'

To confirm her words, she grabbed a trash can, empting the plastic bag on it and tossed the bills inside.

'There. Take the other one. It's only fair that you have a share too.'

'This is blood money.' I simply shook my head.

Our way out seemed like a walk in the park, the place was now dead silent. Until we reached the glass corridor, that is. The cell phone rang again, breaking the silence.

'Gat? How're the guys? We're done here, made some cash too, fucking a..'

I could hear the voice on the other side, and it didn't sound so excited:

'Boss?! I'm calling to give you a heads up, their sending in a…'

'...Chopper.' I completed grimly, looking outside as a huge and yellow armored helicopter made it's way towards the center.

She hung up and turned to me, and we both grinned with irony.

'Fuck, it was too good to be truth, wasn't it?'

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Bruno and Carlos were walking down the Barrio streets. They halted in front of a door that had a huge neon hand at the entrance.

The sign read Tarot –

Amarres de amor efectivos –Fortune telling

'Come on bro, this is stupid. One hundred fucking dollars?'

'I'm telling you, my mother would never let a year go by without seeing one. What does that tell you?'

'That she was just as dumb as you.'

Carlos entered the place first and sighed in frustration, indicating an arm chair at the waiting room.

'Bitch, bitch, bitch… Just wait for me, ok?'

He moved the little bell curtain that separated the waiting room from the small one where the fortune teller received her clients.

It was a pretty creepy n' cheap place she got there. If she made so much money predicting the future right, maybe she would be affording a better place to rent.

Yeah this was beginning to look like it was a bad idea alright.

'So carino?' A middle aged woman with thick Spanish accent greeted him. 'What can I do for you?'

'Buenas Tardes Senora. I saw you ad on the internet.'

'Senta te, senta te carino.' She invited him to sit and he did, hesitating a bit.

He cleared his throat, crossing and uncrossing his legs nervously.

'I just started a new life recently, and I want to know what it will bring to me. And, uh... Actually...'

'You don't need to say more...' The lady smiled, most of her clients coming there for the same reason. 'What's her name?'

Carlos lowered his head. 'Oh. I don' really know that.' He was staring at his hands while tossing his skull cap from one to another. He sighed and stopped, looking at the fortune teller.

'I am crazy for her, but I'm pretty sure she doesn't see me that way. And, if I tell her how I feel, she would reject me. It's complicated, it would mess things up, cuz she also happens to be my boss. '

She put some Tarot cards over the table and told him to shuffle and cut. Then asked him to chose ten cards. She displayed them in a symmetrical way, face down at the table. He wasn't as believing as he was before but even so his heart was beating faster in expectation of what she was to tell him.

She turned some of the cards and stared at them for a long time, seeming increasingly worried and puzzled.

It seemed like one eternity to Carlos.

'So? What do you see?'

'What the cards are saying is indeed strange.' She had a goose bump. 'Not a lot of it it's clear to me though, a big part of your future is foggy and impossible to tell.'

He was getting progressively disappointed. I should have listened to Bruno . Give her more cash and the fog will lift right off, like i don't know this one.

'Do you have a picture of her?'

He searched in his wallet, the only picture he had of the Boss.

It was a mug shot, horizontal lines behind her head. The lady put the picture over the table and took another card from the pile, not caring where it came from as long the costumer was paying. She placed the picture on the table and took another card, putting it next to it.

'But, my dear... ja tienes esta mujer en tus manos.*'

'What do you mean?'

'I see a lot of people in her entourage, but you are the one for whom she keeps all that's sweet in her. I am seeing that you work for a big company maybe, with lots of employees?'

'Hmm. You could say so.' Carlos grinned, not wanting to tell her what their business really were.

'She loves them all but you hold a special place in her heart. 'But...' She looked at him and smiled, shaking her head. 'She sees you as a boy, not as a man. The love is already there, because your bound with her is very, very old. Older than this life.'

The woman pressed her hand hard on her forehead.

'Your boss has a heavy karma. She has a very dark side. It's not uncommon to find former idealists amongst the people capable of doing the most awful things. But she can also accomplish good ones, if anything she is fairer than the people she is fighting, that is for sure.'

She paused again.

'You can bring her good side. She had no one to love her before. The kind of love you have can provide what she needs to stop her from doing enormous atrocities. You are, in a way, her guardian angel... You have the power to do it.' She stopped suddenly, like she was seeing something she didn't want to share and that was impossible to be prevented, resuming sadly. 'But it will cost you...A lot.'

'It doesn't matter.' He said. 'Whatever I need to do for her, I will. I think I could give my life for her.' He only paid attention to the parts that concerned what he wanted. 'Will I be able to be with her then?' He asked hopefully.

'... Yes, yes you will. It's sure.' She replied, but decided it was enough with the nice stuff and that it was time she capitalized a little. 'It might take a while, I can see she is involved with someone else for now, but if you want, for two hundred dollars I can take care of it.'

Carlos was too excited about what she said and decided to pay it anyway, even if he had a lot of doubts about this. What harm could come? Besides, he was superstitious enough to think that it couldn't hurt.

'Do you have a picture of yourself?'

He searched his wallet again for it, she took the Boss's picture and his, placed them both together, and folded them seven times. Then, she took a red string out of a small box at a shelf that was cumulating with her hocus pocus books and wrapped it around the paper pieces, securing with a tight knot.

'Show me your wrist now.'

Carlos raised an eyebrow in confusion but removed his watch and placed his arm on the table, wincing a bit as she used a small blade to make an incision, letting his blood drip over the small package.

'Ideally, I would need her blood too, but this will do. Keep this with you, and show it to no one.'

'Gracias!' He said, paying her and putting back his cap back on his head.

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Bruno looked at his friend, he knew him enough to understand he couldn't hide very well his satisfaction right now.

'Great, she told you everything she thought you wanted to hear, right?'

Carlos put one arm around his friend shoulder:

'Ah...' He sighed, his face illuminated by inner joy. 'Are you hungry?'

'Kind of. Let's go to Apolo's?'

'Yup. And it's on me.'

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* But my dear, you already have this woman wrapped around your finger.

Chapter Text

The pair got out of the center alive, against all odds. A pistol and a rifle against an armored bird is not an equal fight, the large wound on the Boss' leg proving it.

She and Max managed to reach the Magma, who was still parked at the entrance. He tore out of as soon as they entered, low on ammo and unable to afford another Ronin counter attack.

Max pulled over at a desert alley at her request after losing more of Shogo's men sent after them.

'We'll wait here 'till there are less out there.' She explained.

He agreed, and turned his attention to her. He touched her leg with the intention of examining the wound.

'Fuck you!' She punched him on the face. 'My crew will take care of me when I get back.'

'God fucking damn it! I am trying to help!' He replied, grumpily, checking his lips with his fingers for blood. She didn't let him get shot, what was this about now?

'Look, just because we helped each other earlier doesn't make you less of a cock sucking piece of bacon for me.' She spat, releasing the muffled anger she had towards another cop, who once wore purple. The Boss was telling herself, 'don't be fooled, they were all the same'.

Maybe Max was genuinely interested in helping her now, taken by pity, maybe that pity someone who is conscious of his superiority can feel for a shitty, bleeding criminal. But it wouldn't stop him from sending her to the chair if needed, like Troy did to Johnny.

Max sighed, chin on his hand and looked at The Boss with the same tired condescendence you would look, not to a criminal, but to a wounded little brat, too proud to accept help.

'For you own sake, I hope your boys get here fast.'

'Shut up.' She mumbled while she lit a cig, tilting her head to hold the cell in place and make a call. She wanted to reach Pierce, as Gat's crew was probably still busy with The Ronin.

The Boss checked her phone impatiently:

'Shit. No reception. That is fucking great.'

Max decided it was enough and took a med kit off the glove box, grunting.

'This is a big wound, girl. Stop been a bitch to me, what can it do to you if I at least stop the bleeding?'

He extended her leg carefully over his and cleaned it in small soft strikes.

'Fine. Knock yourself out.' She agreed, disarmed and without the need of being aggressive this time, but still been cold to show she wasn't impressed.

Max took the disinfecting fluid and poured it over the wound.

It just stung, she had far worst, but Max seemed worried.

'Sorry.'

He then pressed some clean gauze over the wound, steadily to stop the bleeding but with so much calculated care so it wouldn't hurt more than it should, that The Boss couldn't help but notice it. To him, it seemed so natural.

She felt her eyes filling with tears, having one unpleasant memory that she was very quick to dismiss, comparing against her will the attitude of the person she had in front of her now and that of a man back then. She didn't recall been tended like this before.

When he rose his head to look at her, she tried to read irony or indifference in his eyes but there was none. Only simple concern and an almost affectionate vibe she couldn't understand.

He just kept taking care of the wound, with the same kindness, doing his best to cause the strict minimum pain.

Not used to kindness in general, she couldn't get Max's natural impulse to help.

It was like he guessed her confusion:

'Don't think I don't see you as a person just because you're in a gang.' He shrugged, her gaze making him a bit uncomfortable. 'Damn, I could be your father.'

'You couldn't be my father.' She scowled, he wasn't old enough, she thought, scanning his face, but then noticing against her will that he was actually attractive and totally her type.

'I dunno...' Max said, putting unexpectedly some humor to it. 'What does your mother looks like?'

Even the Boss' serious face had to relax into a slight smile for a while, and she chuckled.

With that the ice was broken.

The ride to the hideout was mostly silent, but there was not the slight hint of hostility from the Boss's part. If anything, it evolved to a polite mistrust.

They didn't trust each other at all, but you couldn't really say that the cop and the saint hated each other anymore.

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A few weeks later Troy asked Max to his office. Pairing with the Saints produced good results and Dane was satisfied about it.

'Wow, doing this is no piece of cake. I feel guilty for teaming with people I might have to arest some day. How did you do it?' Max said, worried, as soon as he entered Troy's office.

Damn. Max and his annoying gift of reminding everyone of the better person they should be.

'It's her isn't? Are you two getting along too well now?'

'Excuse me? That has nothing to…'

Troy grunted and reached for the computer, while he stared at Max in tired annoyance. He opened an audio file:

'Hello?'

'Max?'A woman's voice with latino accent asked.

'Hi. Is everything ok?'

'Just fine. Listen, everything is settled. We're going after the Ronin tomorrow.'

' You gotta be more careful this time. Bring more people with you, The Ronin are not unprepared anymore. Don't want to have to get there and find you surrounded again.'

The feminine voice laughed.

'How sweet. Says the guy whose ass I had to save last time…'

The other voice replied in amusement:

'Trying to keep your own safe may I remind you…'

Troy paused the media and scowled.

'There you go. I don't think we need to listen to all of it. Public phone at Sunnyvale Gardens. To your personal phone. The conversation wasn't too hostile, huh? And you guys met a Freckle Bitch's another day, why? You gotta keep it real man, you're starting to put your guard down.'

'How did you get that?' Max frowned.

'You've been wired.'

'And you knew 'bout that?'

'Ultor's orders. Heh. I know. I wasn't even supposed to show it to you.'

'You're always a surprise Troy.' Max said, a hint of accusation in his tone that was enough to touch Troy's sensitive spot.

'It's work, like any other. You know what the law expects you to do and you do it. If you don't have what it takes, then just quit this shit.' He groaned, like he was justifying himself and closing the conversation.

'Right. Call for replacement. I'm out.' Max replied, just like that, much to Troy's surprise and displease. It was hard to find another decent cop to put at Max's place. Troy just sunk behind the pile of papers that accumulated over his desk, like he was drowning on all the problems that surfaced each day.

He rubbed his forehead with his thumbs and searched a drawer, retrieving a new pack of cigs and opening it.

'Here, take one too. Sorry I said that. No, it's not easy, I am well placed to say. Just remember, you are not friends, even if fighting together creates a bound and makes you believe that. Don't forget that maybe that day will come when you'll have to arrest her and everyone. I don't trust Ultor, and I am pretty sure they'll forget the help the Saints are giving us much faster than you, it's all a matter of time. But I need you for this Max. I can't count on everyone here and you know it. Look at that! He took one paper from the pile, another one, then one more, letting them fly across the room, fed up. 'Crime report, crime report, and another fucking crime report. Do you know why criminality raises so much? We don't pay our men enough. So they quit. Our guns are outdated, our cars needing maintenance. I ask for funds and do you know what City Hall tells me? To pick the pieces from the less fucked up cars and replace them into the totally fucked up ones. And don't even get me started on our equipment. Missing radios, one bullet proof jacket for every three guys. What am I supposed to do, encourage them to share them? All I do is work my ass out, only to hear its my own incompetence that can't keep this city safe!'

'Better than anyone I know what the problems of our district are. I am taking more risks since I arrived here than most. I already had enough dilemmas of right and wrong, guilt issues for a lifetime. I'm sorry Troy, but you're on you own for this one.'

Max finished his cig and closed the door of the office, leaving. Troy stood alone for a bit but then pounded the table in frustration.

Poor Troy. He had no idea of what this promotion would represent in his life. He was stressed all the time, put up weight really fast and aged about 10 years in 3 since he took the direction of the PD. Life with the Saint's wasn't so bad after all…

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Meanwhile, at the hideout, Pierce, Boss, Gat and Carlos were entertaining themselves to a round of poker, to kill time while they were not killing people.

The Brotherhood and Ronin Lieutenant seemed to have been winning each time, judging by the big pile of chips at their side of the table.

'One more round and I wipe all of your money. Ha! I hope you guys shoot better than you play…' Pierce gloated.

Carlos gave him a sideway look as if to remind him it was a good thing for his gang career not to piss off his boss and second in command.

Johnny, however, was amused and unexpectedly took sharp words to deal with the matter, rather than a sharp object like he was more used to:

'Right. But let me remind you Carlos is the one kicking our asses, not you. I suggest a partner switch for the next one.' He smiled, turning his face to The Boss, who grinned back.

'Yeah, good idea.'

Carlos chuckled, folding his cards at the table while he turned to Pierce.

'Told ya.'

Shaundi giggled from the couch she was sitting, still following a bit their conversation despite being on the phone (with some ex presumably). She filled the room with the smoke from the pipe she was smoking, and the quarter changed positions for the next game. Pierce sided with the Boss now to his despair, she paid more attention to her bottle of wine than her cards.

He grunted, readjusting the doo rag on his head.

For the intelligent man he was, he gambled more than he should, and had debts scattered almost every hood of Stilwater.

'So Boss I just talked to an ex at the Frat, I'm going to his place to check this new drug The Samedi are designing.'

'Great. Keep it up Shaundi.'

'What you've got Boss?' Pierce asked.

'Nothing. I'm out.' She replied, putting the cards she was holding back at the pile on the center of the table.

'Gat?'

'Full house. How do you like that?'

'And Carlos?'

'Hmm. Sorry man. You've got flushed.' He grinned, and reached for Pierce's chips.

The Boss gave Pierce a sympathetic tap on the back, and got up.

'Where are you going?' Johnny asked. 'the game was getting fun.'

' To the factories district, we have news on the Ronin deal.'

'Going alone then?' Gat asked.

'Well, it's me and that other cop.'

'Max?'

'Wait.' Carlos reacted. ''It's just you and one guy? Are you sure you don't need more people Boss, just in case?'

'I can handle myself alone.' She guaranteed. 'And he is pretty good.'

'I hate to admit it, but with a gun, he is all that.' Gat commented.

'Wow.' Pierce said. 'Gotta take that as a compliment coming from Johnny.'

'He is right. He rolled with us pretty well.' The Boss confirmed. 'He is funny too… The hardest cop to hate you'll ever meet.'

'And that is not all.' Gat continued, against his own will. 'He was the one who patched the Boss and brought her to the hideout. Not that I trust the fucker, but at least I can respect that, he is not a total piece of shit.'

'And you're going with that guy?' Carlos widened his eyes, angry, instinctively disliking Max already.

'Don't worry Carlos. We've got this. I'll see you in a couple of hours.'

'Do you mind dropping me at Eesh's on your way?' Gat asked, following her.

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The Boss parked the aquamarine venom classic she used when she was in 'civil' mode inside an abandoned garage, and found Max inside his own car waiting for her.

'What happened?'

'The Ronin are all over the street.'

'Yeah I saw a bunch of yellow bikes while driving here. Any idea of what they're up to?'

'No. We're good here anyway, this is Brotherhood territory and no one messes with them. But that is not what I came to talk about.'

'Well, what is it?' She asked, he looked worried.

'I can't keep siding with The Saints.' He said.

'What is that supposed to mean?' She raised an eyebrow, suspiciously.

Is that why he wanted her come alone? She suddenly suspected this was about him having a chance to arrest her, and got ready to draw her gun at anytime.

'Just try it!' She warned, crossing her arms. 'You'll die, no one,in this town has what it takes to send me to jail. All this time Max, you played nice, for a second there I believed you were different from Troy. My mistake I guess.'

'What?' He stepped closer, smiling in amusement. 'I didn't come here to pull a trick on you.'

She stepped back, leaning against the door of the Venon.

'Why did you came here for then?' She asked hotly.

'To tell you I am quitting this mission.'

'Fuck you Payne, you might as well be bullshitting me.' She tried to push him out of the way, but he put both hands on her shoulders, the proximity making both stare at each other for a while, betraying their mutual attraction.

'I just came to say goodbye.' He said gently, his thumb brushing her cheek, not wanting to leave things on a sore note in case they wouldn't hear from him again.

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Shaundi was landing down from her haze and decided to join the boys for the game.

'So who is in?' Carlos asked,.

'I am. But I have to take a leak first.' Pierce said while he stood, still determined to make up for his losses, heading for the Porto that served as an improvised toilet facility for the hideout at the moment.

'Hey, Shaundi!' Carlos said in meantime, lowering his voice. 'Who is this Max guy?'

'I dunno really. I just saw him once. But in my opinion, he and the Boss getting along is fine. Can be a useful contact at the PD if he is willing to remain in touch.'

'I don't like this. Look what she got the last time.'

'Don't worry. It's different, this one is not undercover. It's just business, she ain't trusting him, I am sure…'

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Max was the first one to step in and kiss the Boss, seeing her hesitation. She reciprocated and he pressed his body tightly on hers, kissing her again more deeply now. She gave into it, quickly passing her arms around his body and caressing his arms tenderly, both losing themselves into expressing what wasn't allowed for so long.

He passed one arm around her waist, lifting her while with the other hand opened the door of the car.

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Johnny was finally done moping blood off the floor of his girlfriend's living room.

He found a Ronin lurking outside Aisha's home.

After a very short interrogatory, the intruder dropped the info that the unusual activity on the streets was about an attempt to assault the hideout. The Boss was there to ask Aisha to lend her a pair of shoes (why was she barefoot?!) and had to leave to take care of things alone as Gat was given the shore to clean up after his own mess.

He ended up bursting the Ronin's brains over the center table much to Eesh's displease. It took her months to decorate the place, since Johnny was out of jail, the place was much more messy, even if he did his best to keep it tidy. Living with him came with some unusual shit though: Beer bottles at the shower, guns on the fridge. Like no one else, she had the power to impose some discipline on Gat. Maybe it came from the fact that, deep down, Johnny was totally crazy about her, despite their constant fights. It was those same heated fights and their consequential, even more heated make ups, however, that kept the relationship from being far from boring.

After the body was dumped the couple went to meet the Boss at Cocks for a drink and catch up, unaware that someone was hiding on a car and watching them leave together.

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'So how was it?'

'Survived a road carnage, learned that the police is no longer siding with us and… Ended up banging Max on the seat of his car.' The Boss replied, sipping her rum and coke.

Johnny widened his eyes, chuckling.

'Busy day then.' He toasted. 'Ah, look at you smiling. I sensed you two were up to something ages ago. Did you pop all the Ronin trying to attack our crib?'

'Wait Johnny, I want to hear about it! Girl, you waste no time.' Aisha interrupted, rubbing her hands together curiously and smiling in complicity at The Boss.

'Soooo…Was the cop any good?'

'Oh.' Johnny rolled his eyes, sighing. Girl talk... 'I don't want to listen to all the details and have images of a naked, hairy policeman in my head.'

'I like him. I know this was probably a mistake.' The Boss admitted. 'But to answer your question: he's the right mix of sweet n'sour.'

'And experience.' Eesh completed.

The Boss winked back at her, as if to confirm it was totally the case.

'I feel like I am reading a Sabrina novel every time you two ladies catch up'. Gat complained with a smirk, glad the two people he cared for the most in his life got along so well, but feeling this was a bit too much information. 'I should have asked the guys to come with us. Now honestly, glad to know you are having fun, he seems alright. Specially if you're looking for a grandpa…' He teased, and both women laughed at this.

'Nonsense. Good for you.' Aisha poked The Boss friendly with her elbow and whispered loud enough so Johnny could hear it. 'He is sexy.'

'Hey!' Gat reacted, between amused and pissed off. 'How can you girls like him? He is old.'

Gat was the stud number one of the gang, all the attention going somewhere else apparently annoyed him.

'Hell, if that is an old man then I want to spend my next vacation at a retirement home.' The Boss replied.

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Max drove from home to work the next morning, feeling strangely renewed. He saw what was going on between him and The Boss from the start, but he just didn't expect to give in to it at the last minute. He told himself that what happened didn't change much actually. He kind of felt attached and responsible from the beginning, the fact they had sex was a mere consequence.

He swore to himself not to see her again though, didn't matter if he wished to, she was trouble. For both of them.

He was immersed in this thinking while taking a forced stop near the Ultor building. The road was blocked by a broken limo.

A knock on the car window snapped his attention back to the present moment.

'Hey.'

A blond man in a fancy suit was waving with impatience, telling him to open the door as he checked his watch.

'Mr. Vogel, if I remember correctly?' He groaned as he recalled the unpleasant impression that a quick meeting at Troy's office left in his mind concerning this dude, a week ago. Vogel was the head behind the Saints/Stilwater PD operation.

'That's right. I am in a hurry, do you mind dropping me at the Ultor building?'

'I guess. Come in.'

As Dane entered the car, he accidentally kicked an object that was under the seat.

Max winced as soon as he saw what it was, hoping Vogel wouldn't pay attention to it, but it was too late:

A woman's shoe.

A purple shoe.

What a coincidence... The color of the Saints.

She must have lost it that yesterday when they... Oh well...

Vogel laughed lazily, holding the object in his hand.

'Ah, they told me I should expect this kind of stuff from you Mr. Payne.'

Max grunted and kept driving, it was too late for an explanation now.

They reached the building quickly as it wasn't far away at all, Max was only too glad the ride was short, he hated the idea of driving this upper class clown around like he was some cab driver.

'Thanks for the ride. My regards to your Cinderella of the Barrio.' Dane said sarcastically, closing the door.

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Chapter Text

Shit... I hate talking about this. The day Aisha died. Oh fuck...

I feel terribly guilty for it for two reasons: One, I was supposed to meet Gat earlier to get the money we collected from the hoods, but I didn't.

I was 40 minutes late because Max and I were doing our classic 'pretend we're civilians and have a drink at the beach' routine. It was fine except that what was supposed to be a quick drink n' dip, also turned out to be a full make out followed by a quickie in a hotel room. It was hard to say no to him when I was starting to give in to this relationship, all his clothing was a swimsuit and he would find any excuse to press his body on mine.

So like I said, I was 40 minutes late because of this. If I had made it in time, we could have got to Aisha's place before the Ronin.

If this wasn't enough there was also reason number two: Because of me Johnny got stabbed.

I distracted him at the worst possible moment, thinking I could shoot Junichi (I had the fucker on my aim, it was like a bad joke to run out of bullets), but fuck, they wouldn't make this so easy for us.
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The Boss poked her head inside the open window of a purple Stiletto parked in front of Freckle Bitch's drive thru.

'Sorry I am late.'

Gat raised his eyebrows in relief and swallowed the soda he was having before he replied:

'About time! Thank God, Boss.'

The Boss opened the door of the car and took her seat next to the driver.

'What the fuck took you so long?' He insisted.

'I was with Max, lost the track of time. So, do we have the cash? By the way, Johnny, I wanted to tell ya something... I was thinking, you sure it's ok to keep stashing our cash at Aisha's? She seemed worried 'bout it.'

'Nah, she'll be fine.' Johnny said, starting the car. 'Now let's go to Eesh's, she'll be in all her states if the food went cold.'

'Shit.' The Boss covered her forehead with one hand. 'I totally forgot she was too cook a romantic dinner for you tonight! Seriously, can I feel any worst for been late?'

'Well, at least I am not the one to blame for ruining a fancy dinner this time..'

'You called that fancy? Seriously Johnny, not even I think that Freckle Bitch's is suitable for a real date.' The Boss said, alluding to the time Aisha got all dressed up for their first date in months and Johnny took her to the infamous Fast Food.

'Oh shut up. That place is seriously underrated!' He said as they arrived, parking the car in front of Eesh's house. 'Here we are, Boss.'

'Aisha doesn't care that I am stopping by, does she?' The Boss asked as Johnny searched for the keys in his pocket.

'Hell no. She doesn't go out that much, she loves company.'

Johnny went to the front door and turned the keys in the door lock, but suddenly got quiet.

He took a step back and looked around, as if his eyes caught something unusual about his girlfriend's home.

The grass of the garden was ripped in single lines, it looked like tire marks from a motorcycle, or better, many of them.

He and The Boss exchanged a silent, tense look, getting each other.

They immediately reached for their guns as Johnny cautiously pushed the door partially open, without entering:

'Eesh, you home?'

We were on our guards, me on the left side of the wall next to the door, him on the right, ready to bust in, when we heard Eesh's voice:

'JOHNNY, IT'S A TRA...!'

Gat kicked the door open and stormed inside.

At the same time, the blade from Junichi's katana made a single movement in the air, beheading Aisha.

We saw everything.

From behind my friend's shoulder, I watched, in a blink of an eye, blood squishing on the wall and her head falling, rolling over the carpet.

Just like that...

Aisha was dead.

A strong and unpleasant feeling washed over of me, one that I didn't recall feeling since my friend Lyn died tragically.

After that first impression I thought about Johnny, then one single idea dominated everything: Junichi had to die!

All those thoughts happened in less than a second, it was like someone slowed down time. I heard Gat scream at my side, waking me up from the shock:

'EESH!'

Junichi looked at him and smiled. The smug smile of a pro that just proved to himself that he is really that good. He swung the sword again and waited for Johnny to come to him, he was thriving on this.

Only then we took notice of some Ronin coming out of the kitchen, they charged at us and soon bullets were coming in our direction. I quickly hid myself behind the door, never taking my eyes from Gat, who seemed ronin attacked him, he disarmed and impaled one, I shot the other one.

He reached Junichi and they started a heated, skilled battle of blade against blade.

Meanwhile, I looked arround the house: We were surrounded and being shot at every direction.

At times like that something changes in your body. You react right and you escape death at every turn, without thinking. You duck, you dodge, you know exactly when and where to hit your opponent, you see possibilities in things you usually wouldn't. If we had to do all those things again right now, I don't think that we could. It's only in the face of death that we unlock this other, super self.

I seriously don't know how we survived, how Gat managed to keep his shit together against an expert at a time like that. I don't know how I managed to get behind that grey couch I was now without a single bullet in my body.

I peaked on their fight from behind the couch, mostly ducking to avoid bullets.

Junichi charged at Johnny: He blocked his attack with his sword and I had to duck again, for this other Ronin fuck was firing at me. His bullets totally destroyed the wall behind me, but I was ok.

I kept listening to the metallic sounds coming from the other fight as my opponent stopped to recharge.

This was the right moment to get out of hiding. I aimed and with two shots killed him.

My hands were trembling with hate, in the same motion I turned my gun towards Junichi. He was so close, all I needed was one shot and for Gat, who was blocking him in my sight, to move a little to the right. I thought, shit, I had to make him move:

'Gat! Get out of the way!'

Gat instinctively turned to look at me, opening his guard.

My aim was on Junichi, I pulled the trigger, confident.

Except I didn't realize...

I have emptied my clip.

In crazed disbelief, I pulled the damn trigger a couple of times, but the gun just clicked.

Immediately Junichi's sword slid inside Gat's abdomen, going all the way through the other side.

'Gat, NO!'

I recharged and left cover, but Gat already reacted and stunned Junichi, despite just being impaled.

His rival suddenly found himself unarmed and under the aim of my gun, so he ran outside before any of the rounds I fired could attain him.

'DAMN IT!' I cursed, seeing the asshole slip through my fingers a second time.

I quickly turned to my friend: Johnny pulled the sword out of his own body with a painful groan, then stumbled over his blood.

'Oh my God. Gat!'

I kneeled next to him, panicked, and grabbed my phone.
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'Hey Boss...!'

'...Carlos!'

He knew the Boss enough tell from the tone that one simple word was uttered something huge must have happened. For the first time ever, she seemed worried and perhaps scared.

'Oh my God, what happ...!'

But she cut him again, her voice urgent:

'Gat is down! Send some crew to Aisha's... now!' She hung up.

The Boss checked Gat's pulse, tapped on his face to keep him awake.

'Gat, for fuck's sake! Don't you dare dying on me.'

She pulled him up but Gat's head fell limply on her chest. He was in shock, or in plain delirium:

'Gotta save Eesh…'

The Boss's heart was hurting, perhaps as much as his wound to see his expression while he said that.

She hugged her friend and dragged him outside. He was heavy, in all his muscularity.

'I can't fucking believe it!' She cursed, as she posed Gat on the sidewalk. As if things weren't difficult enough, more Ronin reinforcements arrived in front of Eesh's house.

The Boss tossed herself to the ground next to Gat and opened fire.

There was no choice but to stay there and endure hell; if she dragged him back inside they would get a bullet, and it was impossible to run with him like that.

So The Boss just waited and shot, doing her best to keep the ronin at bay while the Saints arrived.

From time to time, she stopped to charge and check on Gat.

'Johnny. Johnny. Hang on!'

On the street, more Ronin came their way.

'Your gang is gonna pay for this, you fuckers!'

The Boss was so angry that she didn't miss a single shot. But it wasn't enough to kill all the Ronin arriving from every corner in their bikes. Shogo had this well planned.

After many rounds, her submachine clicked hopelessly. No more bullets.

'Shit.' She cursed. 'Not again.'

But just then, a purple Capshaw appeared behind the smoke of the explosion of a Ronin Hayate.

She sighed in relief, it was Carlos and his crew, parking with a vicious powerslide.

They opened fire, getting the other two's back while they got a semi-conscious Gat on the back seat of the Capshaw.

The way back was unreal. I recall vaguely 'Hole in the Earth' playing on the radio, even if we didn't paid much attention to this detail, worried about getting Johnny in one piece to the hospital. Still, I could never listen to this song after that, it got associated with this tragic event and the loss of someone who was dear to me and to Gat.

I remember him calling Eesh's name multiple times during the ride.

The Ronin sent half their crew to hunt us down, wanting to finish the job.

The boys brought an RPG and we blew several Ronin cars to hell.

Of course I hit civilians by mistake, because the range of the explosion of an rpg is too wide, but my friend was dying, did I give a shit.

Between two explosions, I jumped to the back seat to check on Gat.

I shook him and tried to keep him conscious, but his head fell limply to the side, over my palm. It was like I was holding a handful of jelly. Gat was dying on my hands and there wasn't much I could do about it. His blood inundated the back seat, my hands, his clothes.

'I'm sorry..,!' He muttered. But I knew it wasn't to me he was talking to. 'I'm sorry Eesh. I shouldn't... You were right, babe, I shouldn't have brought that money to you place.'

Poor Gat... it was too late for a conscience crisis.

'Stay with me Gat! Gat! God damn it.' He blacked out again and his head slid down completely. 'Go faster!' I yelled to to Carlos.

'Man, he is not looking good!' He replied, accelerating even more.

With that we just arrived at a crossroad that was over this church in the suburbs. Immediately, Carlos stepped on the breaks, sending us forward with a big bump. I was going to complain at this, but then I saw it too, and understood why he stopped: From both sides there were barricades, from both sides yellow cars were parked together in line to block our access. At our tail, we could already hear tires whistling and distinguish those headlights, like a pair of lit, sinister eyes in the night, getting closer.

We only had two choices and both of them put us at great risk of getting shot: One was to return and face the cars that were following us, the other one was to bump our way out of the barricades. I was about to tell Carlos to return, but then he did something totally unexpected.

He put the car on reverse, we went back so fast that the distance of the cars following us disappeared and they nearly touched ours. Confused, they stopped, thinking we were going back, but Carlos suddenly accelerated and kept going blindly towards the church.

'Fuck, we're going to crash!' I said, watching the roof of the building under us getting closer.

'Hang on!' He yelled.

I didn't know what he was going to do, but I instinctively ducked and grabbed Gat.

I felt the wheels getting in to something, then that the car was no longer on the floor.

Fantastically, the car jumped over the gap and landed on the church's roof at full speed, jumping again, higher, in a beautiful stunt.

The city disappeared of the line of the horizon, and as we flew, only the starry sky was visible for a moment.

We landed clumsy, but safely on the road underneath.

'Holy crap Carlos!' I said, impressed. 'Where the fuck did you learn to drive like this!'

He was too worried and too concentrated to turn and look at me, but he hinted a cocky smile.

I smiled too, since that, to our relief, the silhouette of the hospital just appeared ahead on the road.
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The nurse told me and Carlos that Gat was in surgery and that now, we had to wait.

Waiting... At a time like that... Was hard.

I sighed and numbly sank at one of the black chairs in the waiting room of the hospital, staring blankly at those fliers of campaigns against STD's hanging from the board. I was feeling awful, but relieved since the doctor told me that Gat would live. Lucky I didn't have much time to think, since the crew were on their way.

Pierce and his guys were the first ones to show up.

He seemed eager to show that he was capable of taking Gat's place while he recovered, which pissed me off. Pierce was so bright but he def lacked skills when the matter was getting his timing right. I just assigned him and three other men to guard the room where Gat was being operated. He seemed disappointed but got in the elevator with the other guys and went his way.

Minutes later, Shaundi also arrived.

'What the hell happened, Boss?' She asked.

'The Ronin set us up at Eesh's and Johnny got stabbed in the gut. Doc said he'll be fine, but she passed away.' I said, struggling with the last words.

'Sorry Boss.' She said, stunned.

'Listen, there's no time for feeling bad: I want everyone in the crew to be either with Gat or looking for that fucker. Shaundi, call all your contacts, one by one. Find me where Junichi is, that's all I care for.'

I probably looked like I meant business, because she took the keys of her car out and quickly replied:

'I'll go talk to my ex at the Frat right now Boss. He knows everyone.'

'Good. Call me the moment you have something.'

As she left I took sit next to Carlos. He probably expected me to tell him what to do too, but all I could say to him was:

'It was my fault, Carlos.' He was the only one that I could open all my feelings to, besides Gat. Right then I needed it terribly.

'You didn't know, Boss. No one could have known...' He said, concerned.

He put his arms around me and there, with the warm contact of his sweatshirt against my face, I finally felt that I could relax, that it was over.

I rested my head entirely on his torso and let myself to be
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The Boss wasn't big when it came to house cleaning. She could simply assign a couple of newbs in the crew to do the task, but in this particular case, giving the job to someone else like this was a regular casuality seemed too inconsiderate. So she took a couple of mops, a big bucket and two large rolls of kitchen paper towels and headed for the suburbs, escorted by Bruno and another bulky Saint.

When it was done, she sat at the white couch, saying goodbye to the home that welcomed her for such a short period of time.

Right then she heard footsteps over the wooden floor.

Someone just came in.

It was...Gat.

He was supposed to be resting; she never imagined that he could drive all the way from the hospital in such a state.

Damn Saints. She told them to stop anyone from passing. But, can anyone stop Johnny Gat from passing when he wants to? At least he didn't see much. All that betrayed that something sinister happened in that scenario now was the slight rusty color of the mops leaning next to the buckets. And the black plastic bags, filled with kitchen paper.

He just stared at everything, silently.

She moved, wanting to withdraw to the kitchen to let him have his moment, but a faint noise caught her ear.

The Boss turned, and what she saw turned her to stone:

Johnny Gat was weeping like a baby.

Sitting on the couch, hand over his forehead, with the same helplessness, the same intensity. The silent sobs rocked his massive body back and forth and he didn't even care to try and stop them, so much his pain was huge.

'Pobrecito, pobrecito! Puta madre!'*

Gat could cry then?

The Boss kneeled down in front of him and hugged him, her cheek hard against Gat's, silently mixing her tears with his.

'We're going to get those fuckers Johnny, we'll think of the worst thing that can be done, I swear...' She couldn't continue and Johnny simply passed an arm around her shoulder, unable to speak but nodding to show he appreciated the comfort and trusted the idea.

Her sadness slowly turned into anger and strangely it communicated with something inside Gat as well, because he stopped sobbing and clenched his fists.

His breath speeded up, he nodded more profusely now, and then again and again, to the point just bobbed his head frenetically.

Their hate seemed to vibrate at the same frequency, resonating.

Shogo should have known what he signed for.
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Days later, Junichi was dead, and so most of the Ronin crew. Gat was back with us, and everything seemed to point to the fact that things were finally looking up.

But I still didn't want for that day to come...

Yet, there it was.

I was to bury another friend.

That afternoon I was sitting at the edge of the bed, dressed in black, my gaze lost.

Didn't even hear Shaundi and Carlos coming in.

They entered my room and stood in front of me awkwardly, not knowing what to say and I watched them with morbid interest: They looked so different, dressed for that solemn occasion. Shaundi was wearing a well behaved dress without any cleavage. She pulled her hair back in a tight bun and decorated it with a purple flower.

As for Carlos, it was the first time I saw him without his signature cap. He combed his hair back, and wore a black suit without a tie. Only a purple string was attached on his arm, as we all wanted to show that we considered Eesh a member of the Saints.

He knelt next to me on the bed, and put a hand on my arm softly:

'Boss, huh, the car is ready...'

'Thanks guys. Let's go, we'll meet Johnny at the Cemetery.'

'You've let him go out alone?'

I shrugged, sadly:

'He drove to Eesh's since this morning. He said he needs to be on his own.
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Under a truly annoying, thin rain, a small crowd of purple gangsters gathered around Aisha's grave at the Morning Woods cemetery, biding their last goodbye.

At the front row, Johnny stood, under the black umbrella that a Saint girl held over his head.

Silent, close to him, was The Boss.

'May perpetual light shine upon her, Oh Lord.' The priest finished his prayer, and there was dead silence in the crowd. The coffin was about to be buried...

Johnny leaned towards the opened grave and reverently tossed a bouquet of Eesh's favorite flowers inside. He thought, bitterly, that this was only the second time that he ever gave her flowers.

'Maybe I should have paid more attention to what she wanted, what she expected of me.' He thought. 'I am sorry Eesh, that I was never the boyfriend you expected me to be. Damn, I failed you. I can't change what happened, and I can't be someone else, someone who deserves a girl like you. But babe, know this: I loved you with everything that I am. Every bit of this no good, murdering gang banger will always belong to yo...'

Johnny had to interrupt his goodbyes.

His and all heads snapped towards the direction of the roaring motorcycles that invaded the cemetery. Those loud bikes approached interrupting the ceremony, dissonantly and disrespectfully.

It was Shogo Akuji, the son of the head of the Ronin. The one to order the death of that dear person they were mourning.

A yellow circle formed around the purple group, filling the air with tension. Members from both gangs pointed their guns at each other.

Gat merely raised his head under the umbrella, his expression stone-like. At his side, on the background, The Boss also stared at Akuji.

Shogo was the first one to speak:

'... You too have humiliated my family for the last time!'

'Leave little boy.' Johnny's dangerous voice warned. 'I am not killing anyone at Eesh's funeral.'

At his back, The Boss didn't move. The final decision belonged to Gat, and Gat was reluctant to pick at fight, out of respect.

'How noble.' Akuji mocked The Saint's solemnity. 'Nobility is so overrated!'

He loaded his gun and opened fire.

A bullet entered Gat's left arm, he aimed straight for him. Johnny ignored the pain and quickly pulled himself and The Boss behind a tombstone for cover, both regretting the mistake to go unarmed to the funeral.

Two or three Saints at the front fell, killed on the spot. The Saints fired back. Hell broke lose at the cemetery, under the clouded sky of Stilwater a true massacre was happening.

The Saints finally had the upper hand and exterminated Ronin by Ronin, finishing members as they dragged themselves on the wet grass of the cemetery.

Seeing his men fall one by one, the brave Akuji-san was about to flee, leaving his men to die. Terrified, he turned on his heels and ran towards his bike. He had just mounted it when the back of his head was hit by a shovel, promptly sending him down with a scream of pain.

Bleeding, he felt with his face hit mud, accidentally swallowing it, then rolled up, and coughed, barely breathing.

Shogo felt so much pain from the violent hit that his vision was blurred and his ears were ringing. But as he regained his senses he realized that he was being dragged.

Yes, his body was sliding over the wet floor, his back occasionally bumping on a stone. He tried to understand what was going on and looked around:

Upside down, a pair of purple high heels moved, one after the other, burying themselves in the mud. Sometimes they stopped to regain stamina, but soon resumed their pace in leading him to what he assumed, could only be his death.

Panicked, he tried to fight it, but his body wouldn't follow.

'Where are you taking me?' He asked faintly. 'Please let me go. Please.'

The heels took a few more steps, then stopped completely, letting go.

Shogo rolled on his belly with difficulty, surprised. Could it be that his executioner decided to have mercy on him?

His heart shivered happily at this possibility, he took the guts to look up, only to find out that his hopes were completely unjustified.

Johnny Gat was standing right in front of him.

Out of survival instinct and fear, Shogo managed to achieve the unlikely: He stood, ready to run.

But as he turned he bumped into The Boss, who pushed him to the floor again.

'He is all yours Johnny.'

The biker boy couldn't understand respect, so he
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A month went by.

Gat was still devastated, even if it didn't show. That's what worried The Boss the most. He didn't express a thing. He took care of business, worked out, did everything like nothing happened. But she guessed underneath this calm appearance a storm was taking place. Yet, he wouldn't share much, it was useless to press.

Quietly, but ever present, she followed him around like a shadow during this period until the Second in Command's shock started to subside into grief. During hours to end they would talk about Eesh and the later events, in his room.

By then she thought that it was ok to leave him alone for one night and asked Shaundi to keep an eye just in case.

She kept seeing Max, even if not in the opening.

It was one calm Friday night like any other, he cooked for her at his place, they went to XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

That night Max was telling me about his childhood. It was almost as fucked up as mine, except he wasn't so poor.

From my side, I wasn't going to dwell on that subject, so I listened.

'I used to travel with my grandpa, he even took me to see the Egypt's desert, and the Pyramids.' He said.

'Right.' I made an effort to keep with it. 'Where they built the, uh, Sphincter.'

I thought I saw Max's lips curl for the briefest moment, though I couldn't understand why. He was quick to make it sound natural though, emphasizing the last word but still not wanting to correct me:

'Right. The Sphinx... Look...'

He took his cell phone out and googled a few images.

It actually looked pretty cool. I wished I haven't quit school so early. So I asked him a lot of questions about the subject.

You know, the first time I met Max, I didn't like him right away. I had the impression that he felt he was superior to us, criminals.

I came from shit, and if there is something I really can't stand is people taking me from above. When you have no choice, you endure it. But as soon as you have power and money it's next to unbearable. It's like something reminding you of an old self you wish to forget.

With time my opinion of him changed on the matter.

And there is also something else about Max. He is so tough, capable and rigid about to his honor standards. But on the other hand he is so helpless. He needed someone who could understand him, he probably felt insanely alone. That night, he showed me a picture of his wife and baby girl, telling me how they were murdered. I wondered how someone can deal with so much pain and keep going. Yeah, I know a lot of my enthusiasm came from the fact I fell for him pretty quickly, but besides that, I had to respect the guy, the same respect I have 'till today.

Father issues? No shit...

I would lie next to him in bed and listen to him tell me all about myths and legends, enriching a lot of episodes with an historical point of view. Norse, Aztec, and my favorite, Egyptian.

I was never a well read person. To be honest I've always found long texts and books difficult to read. Having someone else talk to me about that would sting my pride, because I would have to confess my total ignorance. But Max never judged people for that, so I felt at ease and would listen to him talk for hours, asking him loads of questions. His tales about Isis and Osiris, Medusa and Thor's Mjolnir were like a bed time story, more relaxing than a XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

'So you see, Hector was a prince and the greatest fighter of his time.' He said, striking her hair as she raised her head to listen to him, eyes opened with curiosity. 'But Achilles, his rival, would defeat him in combat, not allowing him to receive the honors of a proper funeral. He tied up his dead body to the back of his char and drove him for days across the Danaan camp. Now when the gods Apollo and Aphrodite saw that, they were so disgusted by Achilles' actions that they preserved his body from any deterioration.'

He stopped as he saw her frown in preoccupation.

'What's wrong, honey?' He asked, and then teased her affectionately. 'Don't tell me Hector's story frightened you gangsta ass and that you won't be able to sleep at night.' He smacked her butt gently and grabbed her by the waist, playfully groaning in her ear 'I'm pretty sure you won't anyway, but because we'll be busy doing something else...'

The Boss kissed Max, but still seemed worried for some unknown reason.

'Hector. Like Carlos' brother…' she mumbled.

'Carlos?'

'Huh? Sorry, I was talking to myself. Carlos is the name of the kid that busted me out. You should get to know him; he is such a sweet kid.'

'Ah, I remember now, your fellow inmate. He indeed looks cute taking from our mug shots.'

'He is. That baby face! You should see how chicks love him at the gang. I just hope he chooses one that really deserves him, you know? For me, no one can be good enough for Carlos.'

'It shows in your face how much you care about him. No wonder people say he is your favorite Lieutenant.' Max observed. ' Now, seriously. Why did you frown like that before? Is everything all right?'

'Oh. It's not what you're thinking it's just… Now, don't make fun of me.'

'You know me, I never make fun of anyone.'

'Yeah, Right.' She said unconvincingly. 'Once I was high on Loa Dust and had a bad trip about a man been dragged like the Hector of the tale.'

Max fell back on his pillow, laughing hard. She had to laugh along, suddenly aware of the silliness of her own words.

She threw a pillow on his face to punish him for been so insolent.

'You should stop laughing if you want me to come near your Midgard Serpent tonight, you know.'

'Sorry. Sorry... Once I saw a giant eagle playing the clarinet while high on cocaine. I'm not in position to judge anyone.' He pulled The Boss to his arms and gave her a lustfully kiss, and she quickly forgot all worries.

'So it was like, a scary eagle?'

'Not really. Just silly, like a cartoon. It was cool though, we were
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Max didn't continue. The Boss took off her nightgown and slipped under the sheets with him.

'Bout midnight The Boss got thirsty, and craved for a glass of cold water. She rolled herself in a sheet and was about to go to the kitchen, if Max wasn't too much of a gentleman to let her do it. He slipped in his underwear and went to fetch it himself.

Sleepy, he stepped in the kitchen and opened the door of the fridge, letting it open so he had a bit of light.

He was thinking to himself... About how he and The Boss came from totally different worlds, but got along so well.

He retrieved a bottle of water and started to pour it on a clean glass he got at a wooden cabinet. Max couldn't help but let out a smile. Not that he stopped being skeptical about this relationship, but each day their proximity made him less and less resistant...

'I am probably turning my head the other way when I am saying this, but the fact that we are on opposite sides... I guess it doesn't matter like I thought it would. I haven't felt like this in such a long time!'

Max looked at his own reflection on the mirrored door of the microwave, noticing the positive changes on his looks since the last few days. He seemed happier, even younger lately. He left a satisfied sight and was about to close the fridge to come back to his room, when something behind his reflection moved in the dark and caught his attention. As his eyes tried to adjust to the lack of light to see what it was, the blade of a katana shone out of the darkness and found its way to his neck.

He felt that cold and unpleasant sensation of a slicing object slightly cutting one of his vital points.

'One move and you die.' A man's voice warned behind him, slight asian accent marking the words.

In the reflection, he saw a Ronin lurking out of the darkness of the kitchen.

'What do you want?' Max asked.

'Where is that bitch you're banging?'

They were there for The Boss, no need to wonder any further.

'Bitch? I dunno what you're talking about. I haven't gotten some in months, pal.'

The expert arm of the thug dug the blade in his skin just enough to make Max realize this was not the answer they were looking for.

'We know she is seeing you!'

'Ugh. There's no one here, asshole. I am alone.'

The man didn't seem to believe the cop for a second, and kept pushing him towards the bedroom. Max knew he didn't have much time, so he pretended to stumble and took the Ronin with him to the ground.

To Max's luck his katana landed away from them.

The two rolled on the floor, fighting for dominance, when someone came from behind and dug the sword on the Ronin's back.

'Thanks.' Max said, looking up as he slid away the Ronin's inanimate body, unpleasantly bleeding over his. The Boss was standing next to him, wrapped in sheets.

'I'm pretty sure this was in your honor.' Max commented, getting up. 'I wonder why they did this?'

'They must have found out what we did to Shogo.'

'What happened to him?'

As she told him the details of Aisha's funeral, Max eyes widened in shock.

'I can't... I can't believe it. You buried him, too? With your own hands?'

The Boss stopped a bit, learning of this huge disappointment written all over his face, but still nodded firmly.

'Yes. He ordered my friend's, Johnny's girl's death. I did what anyone would have...'

'...Anyone?!' Max snapped, losing his temper. 'Do you really believe that, or are you just saying this to make it sound better?'

He hoped she would show some remorse, but nope, nothing came.

'I did what I had to do. Johnny deserved his...!' She raised her voice too and poked one finger in his chest.

'...well, Johnny, honey, he's making you as cruel as he is!'

'Don't put it on Gat.' She saw that he was trying to make an excuse for her behavior. 'That's who I am, Max. I am not like you, you've always knew that.'

Max sat on the leather couch, chin sinking in his hands. The most turbulent, contradictory feelings were fighting inside his heart. He knew himself well enough to know this couldn't go on like this. But, his feelings were true from the start.

She watched him, knowing that a line was crossed forever. She knew this was going to end sooner or later, and why, even if it was so good.

'Here is a thought.' He started, after a painful silence. 'This life is no good, nor for me, nor for you. I have a friend in Brazil, he can arrange things and we can leave this town, go to South America, away from all this madness. And start a life, together... I drop the PD, you drop the Saints. '

The Boss smiled sadly. For a second, the perspective of living in South America with Max, whom she was in love with and was such a good man, seemed tempting.

However, he could be fed up about with been a cop, but as for her leaving the Saints... It would have been easier if he asked her to give up on her life. All she had, the gang gave to her: Respect, power, money, the deep sense of belonging to a sort of a family, a newfound will to live, and the possibility to take all she wanted... She cared for Max, but the gang… Well, it was everything for her.

'Max... I... I can't... I am sorry.' She replied sadly. 'This is hard to say...'

He chuckled sadly and ran his hands nervously on his short beard.

'I see...'

The room was silent again.

'I should get going.' She said softly.

Max couldn't reply and kept still on his seat.

She started to grab her clothes off the floor, putting them on as she walked towards the door.

Only then he raised and passed his arms around her.

'I, you know... I did...' He whispered in her ear.

She turned and kissed him tenderly, one last time, on the lips.

'Me too.'

They looked at each other sadly and she brought one hand to his cheek to say goodbye.

'Take care Max.'

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Chapter Text

'Why did you request five units just to bust a hideout?' Troy asked.

Vogel closed a button of his thousand dollar suit elegantly.

'Two go for the hideout, the others are to evict the people from their houses. Maybe they won't go easily, but I assume our team is well equipped to deal with this situation. Starting a few fires here and there should be enough to scare them away. '

Troy opened his mouth in shock, unable to answer as he couldn't believe this order wasn't a joke.

Max was the first one to rise from his seat in indignation. He had the impression he was in playing a role in a medieval movie, receiving orders to burn down some village due to taxes been unpaid.

'Civilians Mr Vogel?!'

'You call them civilians. I call them prostitutes, unemployed and petty thieves. A part of the population that needs to disappear if the good one is to be safe.' He leant on the table with both hands to get his point across. 'This city needs to be cleaned.

'There are also families living there. The nation will stare at us as barbarians!' Troy smacked his hand against the table, spit coming out of his mouth so much he couldn't get a hold of himself.

'Not really.' Vogel replied calmly having a sip of his coffee. 'After the burning of Shivington it won't be hard convincing everyone that the Saints are at the origin of the attack. All we did was to try to stop them. Don't worry for your reputation gentlemen. The press is already aware of what they have to do. And I won't forget to give your career a little boost so your efforts won't be for nothing.'

At this point he put his coffee down and looked at both men.

'If after all my solid arguments, you are still unable to cooperate, well, I can always find a new job for you. Guarding the docks of the city's penitentiary would be appealing for you both? At least you could sit and discuss your views of nobility during lunch time.'

For Troy's surprise Max replied with what seemed to be a concealing tone:

'At least there will be one less street gang out there killing our men. Don't worry about Troy, Mr. Vogel, I will talk him into sense.'

'Thank you, Max. Can I call you Max? I always thought you were a reasonable man. You getting laid on duty for once didn't turn out to be so bad, huh?' He patted him on the shoulder. 'Good for you. She is hot. For a Hispanic, of course.'

No sooner than Vogel's Status Quo disappeared at the corner of the street, Max headed for the gun's supply room, followed by Troy. He was angry he didn't see Daniel's move coming. It had nothing to do with him being concerned over the city's security. It was all about his own campaign. He made the Saints work along with the police, helping then to get rid of the bigger threat and do all the dirty job. Now he was going to massacre the whole gang and walk away looking like a hero and model citizen. Max was always against crooks and police getting mixed to do business, it was wrong by principle . But this was way too much. And by the time he was forced to get to know them better he was actually surprised to find human decency and honor values more often between those gangsters than he did on the PD. He could never agree with the gang's violent ways, drug trafficking and stealing. But much to his dislike, he had to admit this particular gang had actually interest in the poor and did show a hint of idealism in their conviction, not to mention the true loyalty they had for one another. They were also capitalists, but less than the kind that were crowding the city's administration, offices and educational institutions that was sure.

He knew that, for instance, on the neighborhoods under the Saint's control, no people or kids were found living on the streets. A part of their profit would go also to ensure their lives.

No one over the age to be working was left with nothing. On top of that they had free pass at the hospital and a much lower or even free rent depending on their situation.

It was forbidden to evict families going through financial difficulties. Not to mention the Saint's ambulance, who provided surprisingly quicker and more decent interventions compared to Stillwater's public medical system. It also took care of the illegal immigrants, those who could not even go to a public hospital by fear of been throw at the back of an immigration's truck and back into the poverty in a most unkind way.

He shook his head, sensing his thoughts were going a dangerous road.

What the hell? Was he becoming like them? Where did those crazy ideas like supporting a street gang come from?

Maybe from his ability to obsessively analyze his condition and context, or maybe from an intimate relationship with the woman behind it all...

The Boss was a ruthless killer, that was hard to contest. But it was because of her will that such organization took place. It was wrong, but funny enough, much fairer than the lifestyle Ultor preached in their fancy ads.

And, there was more... Maybe it was because, even after all this time, he still had the stupid romantic way of viewing the world. He had to warn her. He could never forgive himself if the trust he earned was used to get her eliminated. If the Saints knew in advance about the attack, they would be able to protect their neighborhood too, and the people on it.

'What are you doing?' Troy asked as Max swiped his access card and opened the locker, taking the most bulky rifle he found.

'I'm going to the Hideout to warn the Saints, and if you have the slight notion of human decency, then you are coming with me.' He groaned.

Troy stood there for a moment. A lot of flashbacks from the time he was working undercover with the saints were flooding his mind. A sudden resolution illuminated his features.

'Let's steal a car at the parking in the mall. We can't use our own.'

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The masako team sneaked their way into the hideout silently, trying to use the surprise effect to their advantage as much as possible. The killed their way with that impressive efficiency such professionals have, going towards the inside of the mission only got noticed as they reached the main room, and the Saints keeping guard spotted the orange uniforms surrounding them.

The quantity of consistent noise from their conflict immediately drove everyone's attention to the fact that something big was taking place, and created a moment of total havoc at the crib.

It was amusing, in a way, to find people coming out of their rooms interrupting everything that they were doing, their outfit or expression hinting what this occupation was. More than one gang member had a part of their outfit missing, or were even in underwear. The only thing they didn't forget though was their gun.

Gat for instance was in the shower and didn't have the time to put on a shirt, all he had was his slacks, barefoot. He hurried outside carrying his Kurkov, only to bump into The Boss still snacking on the burger she was having, while charging a Kobra.

'What the fuck is going on here?' Pierce said behind them. 'Elite troops?! What did we do to piss those guys off?'

It was matter of time before an improvised organization took place, Saints could be seen on the phone calling for back up, splitting to cover the entrances and the underground, that the masako didn't forget. The Boss and the Lieutenants were screaming contraditory orders and people were running for the heavy gear stash.

The gun fire was so loud that it made any communication difficult, so everyone did what they could do and hopped for the best.

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'So you guys had a thing huh?' Troy couldn't keep his curiosity anymore.

'Yup. Keep it to yourself though. We're not together anymore.' Max replied.

'How come?'

'I am not big in relationship advice, but I keep telling myself that when your girlfriend buries someone alive, that's when you draw the line.'

Troy chuckled, Max always kept his sense of humor, even during the hard times.

'That is it!' They parked the car a few blocks away of the spot of the attack.

'Let's split for now. Good luck.'

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Carlos cleaned the way up the stairs of the main room, to find The Boss occupied in a 'friendly' conversation with a wounded masako, who was lying on the floor on a pool of blood.

She just shot his leg again, expecting him to spill what he knew, this guy was obviously small fry, but maybe he knew who ordered this.

'I don't know!'

'You don't know… You don't know…?' She hissed, losing patience and kicking helmet off, grabbing him by the hair and smacking her already full of blood knuckles against his face one again. 'Then why do I keep getting this feeling that you do?'

He was either too scared to talk, or really knew nothing, because he couldn't do more than gasp and spit more blood on the floor, his gaze starting to be distant.

'Fantastic.' She commented, waving her hand in frustration, and shooting him anywhere where he didn't have a hole already. 'Come on asshole, we ain't got all day.'

'Just heard something about Ultor…'

The man's eye went completely dead and his head sunk.

'So?' Carlos asked, looking at the masako lying on the floor.

'Nada.' She touched a vein on his neck with her fingers. 'Look. I killed the fucker before he could tell us more.'

'I called Tobias, he is outside with the Helicopter, he said there is a million of them out there and that we need to do something to stop them from entering. This is fucked up Boss.'

'Go and get Gat and Pierce, let's see what we can do.'

Carlos promptly got ready to make his way down again and reach for Gat who was positioned strategically at the bar.

After a while, the three opened the door of the abandoned church.

The whole district was under assault, masako going inside civilian homes, apartments and cars into flames, sirens and terror everywhere.

'A brighter future and a better life.' She muttered ironically the motto from Ultor company, looking at the chaotic scene.

Just then a familiar silhouette was hastily coming out of from the blinding smoke, spotting them.

'What are you doing here?' The Boss ran to him, posing her hands on his chest.

'I came to warn you.' Max said, leaning on his knees to breath and wiping sweat from his brow. 'I'm always late I guess.'

There was a detonation not far from them and Max pulled himself inside with her for protection.

He felt the need to explain.

'Dane Vogel went to the PD told us what would happen just now, I had nothing to do with it, I swear. They forced everybody to do this. He said, pointing behind himself.'

The Boss chuckled sadly.

'Yeah. But you are over here with us and they are over there. Listen Max, be careful! If he told you it's because he knew it was too late and that you could come. I would bet my head he's waiting for an opportunity to pop you too.'

Damn. He didn't see it like this, a trap inside a trap. Like many times before that, Max failed to see the situation as whole, and only realized what he was into when it was too late. Obviously honest cops were a stone in this guy's shoe and he wouldn't mind getting rid of two with one rock.

They couldn't resume their conversation though, because more soldiers found their way up and kept the pair busy for a while.

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Johnny and Carlos were quick to arrange an improvised barricade with everything that could provide solid protection from the bullets that they could get their hands into.

Their idea was to create a safe spot to use a gating gun.

It was an almost suicidal job though, that required not only cold blood, but synchronization. They moved in turn, switching from shooting to moving things around as more special forces uniforms arrived from every street that lead to the hideout.

One masako in particular came dangerously close enough to take a clear shot at Gat, but as he approached an explosion took most of his upper body off.

The miracle savior came from a corner carrying a rocket launcher, but due to all the smoke it was hard to see his features.

A familiar mustache was visible though. And the guy was... Well, against all odds, given the context of chaos, he was smoking with his unarmed hand.

Gat stood still, tensing his neck, one couldn't read his expression or know what was going to follow.

In a blink of an eye he swung his arm and the next second Troy was bleeding on the floor, cigarette all fucked up still hanging from his mouth, glued to his mustache by the saliva.

From his place, never stopping from firing, Carlos was laughing hysterically at what just happened.

'Judas.' Johnny spat bitterly.

'Ouch!' Troy was still on the floor covering his face and inspected his hand instinctively, two big trails of blood now flowing from it. 'I just saved your fucking life Johnny!'

'And do you think that erases everything you did? Nice try.'

Meanwhile the masako wasted no time and opened fire towards Troy, still on the floor.

Gat turned and fired back, ignoring the grudge for now.

Maybe that was Johnny's way of saying he was ok with it. Or that he though if someone was going to put a bullet in that whistle blower, was going to be him. Who knows?

'Leave it to latter, Johnny. We've got company.' Carlos warned, ready to use the Gating Gun.

Troy picked up his grenade launcher, and neither of the two stopped him from doing so. Hell, they could use an extra hand.

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After dispatching the soldiers, The Boss and Max came out to join the others. Much to her anger and surprise she recognized Troy in the pack.

'What… The fuck… this traitor… Thinks he is doing here?!' She took threatening steps towards him but Max grabbed her from behind by the waist, lifting her as she struggled with rage.

'Don't, he is here to help too. We came together.'

She kept struggling to break free, blinded by the will to tear the ex-Saint apart, Max was having a hard time to keep her from doing so. Troy on his side was really wishing he succeeded .

'Hey Troy! Remembered the Saints now huh?' She said, kicking in the air.' Why, you tired of licking Ultor's balls? What about when Gat was about to get the chair, MOTHERFUCKER?!'

'You! Don't you fucking touch The Boss!' Carlos stepped in immediately, and Max was quick to put her down, since now a gun was pressed on his temple.

There was a moment of tense silence, The Boss kicked a piece of debris on the floor in anger but then regained a bit of calm.

'Later!' She groaned. 'Max is good Carlos.'

He put his gun down slowly, the name making him frown and keep eye contact with the stranger longer.

Meanwhile she pointed at Troy, shaking her arm in concentrated anger, threatening:

'We'll have a word about it.' She spat.

Pierce was the one to arrive and break the awkward silence that followed.

'We're good inside. Shaundi went with her crew to the roof. So what do we do now?'

'I sent some guys to jack a bus, a car, anything big enough we could use to barricade the front of the hideout.' The Boss answered.

Her cell phone rang.

'Yeah? Shit. Ok, I'm on my way. She hung up, turning to Gat. 'Johnny, we got a bus and a fire truck coming, but one of the guys was shot 2 blocks away from here, they need a driver. I'll be back. Can you pump some serious lead and clean everything in that direction after I pass for 5 minutes?'

She knew this was unreasonable, but this was no ordinary man, it was Johnny, one could be unreasonable with him.

'Can a porn star squirt and blow a cock at the same time?' He answered, a smile of 'challenge accepted' in his manly face.

She gave him an approval smirk.

'Boss? Watch your back.'

She held his shirt, rocking her hand back and forth for a while in a sign of friendship.

'5 minutes.'

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I was making my way towards the line of Masako's combat vehicles, running and hiding behind the walls of the buildings, gun in one hand for the masako that were too far, machete in the other for the ones who could come in too close, waiting for intermissions between the attacks to go from cover to cover. This is easier said than done, of course. But I had enough vision to anticipate and shoot. Besides, the guys were covering up for me. Like this I could get close to the entrance, waiting for the opportune moment to throw the grenade and knock them off their guard, freeing the way. It wasn't long before the masako had to withdraw a few steps as the bullets were flying more often towards them.

Johnny must have been enjoying it a bit too much. When I realized that they were close enough to each other to be affected by the grenade range, I threw it in the air, preparing to take a long sprint to the other side.

'Eat this, cabrones!'

I couldn't hate more these armored fuckers.

One of the guards looked up, he saw something, and was about to aim at me. But as soon as he identified the object on the ground, he had to run to take cover, warning his mates.

'GRENADE!'

As they ducked to avoid the explosion, I reunited all her forces to run as fast as I could to the other side, where there was a safe place behind a car.

My sides ached like hell from breathing all the smoke, and for a second my head sunk, vision got blurred from the lack of oxygen causing my paces to be slow. For a while I thought I wouldn't be able to make it, but sounds of bullets so close give you legs in no time. The masako who recovered from the blow were shooting furiously back. Luckly I could take a dive for cover, landing on a pile of garbage. Not glamorous, but at least it couchened the blow.

'The hardest part is done, I muttered, indulging to a few seconds of delicious lying down to catch my breath. 'Now it's the other hard part.

Seriously, when did life ever make it easy for us? Not that I complained about my luck, but still.

I got up and started to run down the street, and soon could spot the fire truck, a bus just behind.

A saint behind the wheel waved at me.

So I waved back and pointed to the bus, indicating I was getting in and that he should get ready to follow.

But as I reached the bus and opened the door I had a terrible surprise. Shit. I didn't think the guy who got shot was him.

Gus, one of my best men, was there, head tilted backwards on his seat, eyes semi-opened. His position was so natural that from afar one could think he was simply taking a nap, if it wasn't for the blood splattered on the glass of the broken window, and a huge hole coming from his stomach to his chest. I hoped that he died instantly and didn't feel a thing,

I liked and respected this kid very much.

'Fuck, Gus.' I said, closing his eyes with my hand, remembering how happy he was when he told me about his new girl a few weeks ago. I checked his wounds. 'Chopper...'

I had to move him away so I could drive, but he was heavy and I was exhausted. It would have been easier to just throw him off the window on the asphalt, but it was too inconsiderate. I wanted him to have a decent funeral, with the respect he deserved at not leave him to become a masako statistic. So I dragged him behind, placing him at the bus' corridor.

Ok, this was no time to mourn the dead. Time to move, so I hopped on the driver's seat and started to drive back to the hideout, followed by the fire truck.

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She accelerated the Cheetah and bumped it's front hard against the unit line, managing to break a hole in the formation, driving over a few unwarned bastards.

'Sorry, party pooper!' She cheered as she put her hand out to give the surprised masako team the finger.

The fire truck was impeccably orchestrated in the move and crossed the unit with ease. Then, powersliding, they turned their sides to the firing squad, providing a solid protection for the ones defending the hideout.

Cries of approval rose from the saints as they saw them.

She jumped quickly on the floor and tried to find a fast way to go for cover at the back of the bus, yet The masako squad fired without hesitate.

'Here Boss! Quit buggin'!' She felt a hand pulling her by the arm, it was Pierce who was firing back at the unit. With his help it was easier to slide under the truck, and then regain position.

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'Who is next, malparidos?'* She cursed.

Max had to chuckle from his position. He lived in Brazil for a short while and did understand some Portuguese. It was similar enough for him to catch the spirit of her curse.

'His mother had a difficult birth, am I correct?' He asked, sending her a Kurkov sliding on the floor as she was running out of ammo for her Shotgun.

She placed the aim at the enemy line, firing mercilessly.

'Yeah. How do they say it in Brazil?'

'I didn't learn a lot, but my favorite was something like yours 'Puta que pariu!'** He screamed in his strong American accent, artfully placing a shot right at an approaching soldier's head. 'Seu arrombado!'***'

'Aww! Te gusta, tragaleche?'**** She cheerfully said to the dead masako, amazed by Max's skill.

At this point he had to stop everything he was doing and duck behind cover, just to laugh hysterically for a sec.

Max didn't laugh out loud a lot, even if he had a very good sense of humor. He told The Boss about the multiple tragedies in his life, she imagined it deprived him of a lot of things. Been light and expansive was just an example. It was good to see him relax a bit.

'Nice to see you're having a good time.'

He was still chuckling.

'Wow; I've forgotten that it's hard to have a boring time around you guys.'

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Under the building, three men fired their guns frantically, even if the line of soldiers was slowly beginning to grow thinner. Pierce and Carlos were exhausted, their bodies covered in sweat and dirt, a few rips in their clothing and brutal fatigue in their eyes showing that they were holding the line for quite a while now. Carlos did the massive job with the Gating Gun, turning and shooting as fast he could, while Pierce covered for any soldier who would come in too close. This had a strange background to contrast: Tobias, an old friend of the Saints and Laura's husband, the one with whom she found true love while discovering drug business. There he stood, chest covered by two bandoulières, his pilot helmet on with his trademark hemp leaf in the front, making an uncanny representation of some sort of stoned Rambo. He too ducked for cover to recharge, also to have a drag from a blunt he carefully stashed under the safety of a trash can, as if in his strange sense of bravery, he was more concerned of protecting it from the bullets than his own body.

From time to time, Carlos raised his head towards the top of the brick building to check on the the others. Shaundi seemed alright, her and Bruno were covering distance with sniper riffles.

He turned his head over his shoulder, towards the other side of the building where The Boss was, and glanced at the man between her and Johnny.

His chest burned, but it had nothing to do with the amount of adrenaline from the day's events. So this was the superhero cop everyone talked about?

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It was 4 PM and the smoke was finally decreasing, after the masako abandoned the Red Light district, defeated.

Troy took a moment of distraction and left the hideout, prepared to make his way back home. It was hard to get oriented yet. He turned right on a brick building, heading for the direction of the car they stole the night before, hoping it was still there.

All of a sudden a cold voice called behind.

'Troy?'

'Huh?'

As he turned he saw a gun pointed to his face.

'Leaving already?' The Boss asked.

She didn't seem very happy.

'What you doing here? Is Johnny injured?'

'If Johnny was injured you think I would be here chatting with you?' She snapped.

'Look, I did what I could. I came here to warn you, I helped you guys getting rid of the masako, I even shoot some colleagues for the saints. I'm done. I have other things to do now. If you want to kill me, go ahead.'

She merely blinked in annoyance, not putting her gun down.

He was getting nervous and pulled a pack of Hell Fire from his shirt pocket.

'Cig? He offered.'

The Boss looked at him firmly and hesitated for a moment. She tucked her gun at the side of her short. Then she took the box out of his hand not really minding her manners and tapped on it upside down, pulling a cigarette. She just threw the packet back at him and walked around. Things were more than tense, but he understood that she was not going to kill him.

At one point they stood there face to face, the cop and the criminal. Against all odds he was the first one to put his head down. Was this shame? Hard to say...

He could read, in this persistence gaze, behind all the hardness and cockiness, one excruciating disappointment and hurt: I thought you were our friend. We killed and would get killed for you. We fought, drink and laughed together. Troy, you were one of us.

'I'm still...' He took a nervous drag of his cig. 'Well, I'm sorry it had to be that way.'

The Boss waved her shoulders slightly, her voice calm but hinting this explanation was nowhere near enough.

'Well, that doesn't change the fact that you did it anyway.' She lighted her own cig.

'I know that what happened last night doesn't make us friends again. I'm not looking for that neither. But, if anything, I do respect you, and the Saints.'

She sank her head pensively.

'I know. I kind of do too. That's why I am not killing you. Not tonight anyway.'

Their eyes finally met. This was it, they didn't have to speak to understand each other. No friendship, but no hate either.

She held eye contact for a bit longer, nodding, then threw the butt on the floor to put it off, leaving.

'See ya Troy.'

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Back at the Saints HQ, a lot was still going on. Taking care of the wounded, fixing and replacing everything that was destroyed.

Without time to take a break, The Boss felt her head sink and leant on the wall for balance.

'Whoa, Boss. You can't keep going like this. You didn't sleep in two days, need to get some rest.' A voice insisted with affection.

'Thanks Carlos. You are right, help me inside.' She lifted one arm in his direction and he grabbed her waist to support.

They headed inside and went down the stairs. An enormous crowd was occupying the place, people lying down and being tended the best as they could, most on the floor.

She started to remove her coat to place herself anywhere, but he interrupted.

'I saved you a place, this way.' He pointed with his head to the corridor.

They got inside a tiny room, he pushed some stuff that were over the bed to the floor and helped her lying down.

He then threw the coat on the floor, sitting over it and leant his back against the wall to rest a bit too.

'Is this your room?' She asked.

'Yeah.'

'I didn't know you liked the Feed Dogs.' She pointed at a poster behind the door.

'I'm not so much into rock, but it was my bro's favorite band.'

'Too bad they suck.' She joked.

'Hmm. And what is your opinion of a good band then?' He chuckled, delighted to see she was taking interest in his life.

'Please. Do you even have to ask? Iron Maiden. Best in the world. Yesterday, today and tomorrow...'

'Yeah, specially yesterday.' He teased.

'Touché.' He heard her chuckle in the pillow. 'I remember your brother. He was nice. She continued more seriously. 'He hanged out with me and Gat from time to time, and even taught me how to play the cards.

'Really? I never knew that. He replied curiously. 'Me too. He was all that when he played.'

'Yes. Wow... It's been a while now.' She stated staring at the ceiling, like lost in old memories. 'He was also the only person that liked that band Brujeria***** apart from me.'

'No way. Do you listen to that shi... I mean, to that too?' He laughed.

'Not always proud of it.' She admitted.

'Now I see where you get your vocabulary from.' He teased again.

'I don't curse that much...'

'You? He grinned. 'You're like 50 Cent with tourette.'

She laughed back and shrugged.

'Boss, can I ask you something?'

She nodded and he risked:

'What's your real name?'

'Oh, fuck you...' She replied simply, though still smiling.

'Oh, ok ok...' He raised his hands chuckling, to show he wasn't going to push it. 'At least gimme something here, like, where were you born?'

She considered it a bit if she should go there, but he seemed so innocently interested she answered:

'Tihuana. you?'

'My family comes from Santiago. Yours?'

'Mexican father, polish mother. Do you have other brothers or it was just you and Hector?'

He shook his head.

'Nah, just us. Too bad he is not here to see the Saints today. He could have been big if he was a lieutenant too. I know I don't deserve it as much as he did. '

'Don't. She said, and turned her gaze away to complete the sentence. 'You deserve much more than that...

He smiled broadly at this compliment, though he didn't quite agree.

'Thanks.'

This was too good, sitting next to her, mindless chatting when she was not so stressed from the gang's business. He didn't want it to end, but he knew she was exhausted so kept silent for a while.

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If you're a Spanish native speaker and you see a mistake, please tell me, thanks!

*Something like an accident of birth.

** Literally 'whore giving birth' but it means something like 'Holy Fuck!', or 'Damn!' And it's used a LOT in Brazil.

***This one is really vulgar. Lol. Means someone who has taken so much in the ass, that he or she is all loose.

**** This one is very funny but most used in Spain. Haha literally 'Milk/Sperm drinker'

***** Brujeria is a Mexican band, really bad in my opinion.

Chapter Text

A big victory deserves a big celebration.

Earlier that day, Saints were seen in almost every single shop of the city, pissing money away. From the ones that just got canonized, to the veterans, no one was forgotten. Thousand dollar watches, designer heels, and all that bling to compensate for their efforts on the last episode. They didn't count, buying everything that was the best and that Stilwater had to offer. Hard to understand the real value of a five hundred dollar shirt when you think it might get spilled with blood later that same day, or that maybe a bullet will open a hole in this same shirt, putting you out of business forever.

But, no one cared to think about that. Yes, big victories, they deserve even bigger celebrations. What's the fun in life otherwise?

And tonight it was all about that. Celebrate the fact that they prevailed over Ultor, that they were still alive, and raise a toast to honor the dead. The Hideout was turned into a nightclub for the event. Shaundi revealed yet another talent of hers: Planning parties. DJs were hired, strippers showed their goods dancing on improvised poles. The booze was flowing in rivers as members switched places to bartender and serve the long lines of people crowding at the bar.

The music was loud and the atmosphere just fantastic.

Everybody enjoyed it to the fullest, like in every party of the gang, never knowing if tomorrow would be the last day.

Carlos was one of the firsts to arrive, dressed in jeans and a black button shirt that he got at 'Impressions' for tonight. But one unexpected guest seemed to be making this night sour for him. 'Fucking Payne.'

There was the cop, all that's cool, leaning against the bar from the top of his 6 something feet, a glass in his hand. That guy knew how to look so damn cool. Not the phony cool, the real motherfucking cool. And turned out not only the Boss was charmed by his charismatic shyness. He saw Max interacting with some tough girls of the gang, five minutes later they were all like, laughing and touching him in the arm. He would be his 'I'm-so-fucked-up-and-even-if-I-am-tough-and-dark-what-I-really-need-is-a-woman-to-take-care-of-me' self, crack a sarcastic joke, or a witty answer, and make everyone instantly like him.

'Fucking clown...'

Carlos made an effort to look away, and while scanning the crowd spotted The Boss sitting over a speaker. She was rolling a joint, and at the sight of her he smiled, forgetting about Max immediately. She allowed herself to dress very girly, for a change: A flowing red dress, revealing on the cleavage area, and sky high golden heels.

He decided to approach, and thought about asking her to dance, after all, he was a very good dancer.

So Carlos started to make his way towards the crowd, unaware that, from the bar, Max searched the room with his eyes, like if he was looking for someone.

Carlos was about to reach the spot, but then saw Max cross the room faster from his side in that direction, two glasses in his hand. The cop was holding his usual scotch and some fancy, colored cocktail. He placed himself behind the Boss, shaking the cocktail playfully in front of her before she could see who was doing it.

She followed the way up his arms with her eyes and turned over, a slight smile on the corner of her mouth. Max had to lean and speak in her ear to speak due to the noise, as he placed a hand on her bare shoulder.
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'What about sex at the beach?'Max said as he approached me.

'Huh?' I asked, confused. Not that I would refuse the offer but he was never so blunt before.

'I mean, the cocktail...' He raised the drink and I got the joke.
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-'Take your fucking mitts off the Boss, punk! Shake his hand away. Shake his godamn hand away! She is not shaking it away...'-

Indeed she wasn't. She was again laughing from whatever joke he said in her ear, tapping her hands on his chest. She removed the little paper umbrella on the cocktail and playfully stuck it between his hair and one of the ears, showing that she had a few drinks on her head too.

'Oh it will be harder to be a hahah funny dude once I cut your dick off.'

Carlos sighed in frustration and waited. Maybe Max would leave.

After a few moments of cheerful chat he did... But took The Boss with him.

They were climbing up the stairs, going outside, presumably to smoke and talk. Alone.

'Shit...'

This was too much, Carlos decided to crash and hang with them until Mr. Perfect would take a hint and piss off.

He moved forward, by then someone just bumped into him, eyes almost crossed from being high, carrying a huge bong in his hand.

'Dude, you should definitely try this. Oh God, Shaundi knows her shit.' Bruno said as he passed a friendly arm around Carlos' shoulder. 'Let me tell you, you see that chick over there? Bruno pointed with his head to a hot and young girl at the couch, dressed in a micro skirt. Carlos hardly looked at her. His mind wasn't there.

'She asked me if I knew you.'

'Whatever. Bruno, do you have a cig?'

'Since when do you smoke, maricon?' He asked affectionately, handing him one.

Carlos grabbed the cig and vanished, and if Bruno wasn't so wasted and distracted to dancing right now he would have seen that his friend headed towards the exit and not towards the couch.
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'You're not exactly a party animal, heh?' The Boss teased as the two enjoyed a smoke in front of the Hideout.

'Not that I don't like a party. As long they have booze I'm fine.' Max answered, having a sip of his scotch.

'You need to get it out of your system more often. You can't say you had a real party 'till you do it with the Saints.' She said, rubbing her arms from the cold outside.

Max took off his coat.

'May I?' He asked.

'Oh, sure...'

He gently put his coat over her shoulders, adjusting the collar around her neck. They kept silent for a moment, looking at each other dead in the eye.

'Gracias.' She thanked, lowering her head shyly. It felt weird, but in a good way, to have an old fashioned, delicate display of attention like this.

Max got a bit closer, forgetting about their break up for a moment and put a hand at her arm, caressing it through the fabric of the jacket. Then he replied almost whispering:

'You look gorgeous tonight...'

The Boss opened her mouth to answer but there was a loud noise at the door behind them. They turned their heads to see Carlos stepping out, a cigarette in his hand. A few other saints were smoking outside too, but he headed towards the couple.

'Anyone has a light?'

The Boss smiled slightly at Max, while searching for her own lighter in her pockets.

Max was, however, quicker to draw his Zippo, flickering it open in one motion and pointing the flame towards the cigarette.

Carlos just stood there, cig hanging from his mouth as he gave him a less than friendly look. Instead of leaning towards the flame he just grabbed the lighter that the Boss finally had in her hand, using it without breaking eye contact.

Max stood there for an awkward sec, the flame still going and the arm hanging for nothing. He chuckled a bit and said nothing, simply putting the godamn lighter back where it came from. He wasn't here to pick up a fight, but apparently that didn't go for everyone.

The Boss wasn't paying full attention to their interaction, but still felt some tension in the air.

Maybe it had to do with Carlos' dislike of cops, his brother been killed by one.

She felt that she had to keep some conversation going to break the cold silence that now filled the air.

'You remember Carlos right? He is my favorite Lieutenant. And the one who got me out of the big house. If it wasn't for him, I guess I would have been sent to the chair with Gat.' She raised her glass in a toast.

Listening to The Boss speaking of him with high regard in front of Max made Carlos feel a little better, but the rest was far from over.

Max nodded unenthusiastically and answered in a neutral tone. The last he remembered this kid, he was pointing a Glock to his head:

'Hmm... Right. I do remember you telling me something about this.'

'Is everything ok Boss?' Carlos took a drag as casually as he could, becoming a bit red from the huge effort he was doing not to cough it up right away. If there was something he could never stand in his life, it was smoking... Even getting shot was better than that.

'Sure... Sure it is. I was just telling Max I hope working with us will help him having some fun more often.'

Max just smiled at the Boss, ignoring the hostile attitude that was been displayed towards him.

'Your Boss is teaching me how to party the gangster way and I appreciate the effort. I hope I'm not too old for it.' He touched her gently in the shoulder.

'Yeah.' Carlos frowned, his eyes on Max's hand and replied, without looking at him, yet with undeniable hostility. 'But parties at the PD are not so dull, are they. Now that Ultor pays for them.'

Max sighed and sipped the rest of his drink. Obviously this kid had a thing against him.

'Something like that, pal.' He groaned with annoyance.

'Do you have a problem with that?' Carlos moved closer with a threatening attitude.

'Not really, but I could start anytime.' Max replied, starting to run out of patience.

The Boss put one parting hand into each man's chest, surprised, but before she could say anything Carlos threw his cig on the ground and headed inside.

'Thanks for the light.' He grunted at Max.

The Boss gave Max an apologetic look.

'It's ok.' He said holding her by the elbow. 'Don't bother.'

'I will be back, gotta talk to him.'

'Ok, I'm waiting for you at the bar.'

She headed inside and could easily spot Carlos walking dissonantly fast through the crowd as he bumped into a guy, splashing the beer he was drinking all over his clothes and on the floor.

'Hey. Watch out man!'

This was not like him at all.

He headed towards the corridor and the Boss hurried to catch up with him.

'Whoa whoa whoa.' She said, pulling him by the side of his shirt.

He stopped but keep his head down stubbornly, like someone who knows he did something wrong, but it's nowhere ready to admit it.

'Now. What was that about? Max is the Saint's guest tonight. I won't have you insulting him for nothing under this roof.'

He was often the first to follow the Boss's orders, but her lecturing him because of Max only rubbed another sore spot.

'How can you trust that guy? What Troy did to you wasn't enough?' It was all he could find to say.

She sighed. Again, she was surprised to find herself been more patient with him that she would with anyone in a similar situation. He just acted like a brat, but she couldn't find it to be completely mad at him.

'I know what happened to Hector. That's why you can't stand Max, right?'

He swallowed up, feeling a bit guilty that it actually had nothing to do with what happened tonight. However, this was the only way to back up without having to tell the real reason.

'Yeah. That's exactly it Boss.'

'Well. I can understand but if you want to be a Lieutenant you gonna have to put it together and deal with shit even when you're pissed. You can't have a hot head all the time and let it get the best of you. And, you know, he's not bad for a cop.'

He looked up at her feeling ashamed for his behavior as reason was kicking in. But he couldn't tell the Boss:- 'You're right. I don't think Payne is a bad guy, if anything I think he is a good one, and it makes me want to put a bullet in him for that alone. Loads of girls like him, what will I do if you like him too, huh? I'm insanely in love with you, it makes me lose my mind just at the thought of him looking at you, let alone touching you. He puts a hand in your shoulder and he asks you to dance. Do you know how many times I pictured my godamn hand on your shoulder, us dancing together tonight? How every fucking night I picture you next to me in bed, and I talk to you in my head? And how I kiss you and love you, and can just fucking hold you for a while? So now, you might get why I'm not so found of some cop guy who is obviously trying to steal you from me'. -

Without this piece of info he came out looking like an ass. The only way to fix it was to do the last thing he wished.

'You're right Boss. I'm going to apologize.' He muttered.

She nodded and gave him an affectionate pat in the back.

'I'm going to have a quick check at Shaundi. I saw her and some biker guy heading outside with a box filled with bulbs. I hope she is still alive.' She said, to change the subject. 'Unclench. Go have some fun, the ladies are lining up...'

-'Yeah, you betcha. I'm sure I will have a great time tonight getting lifted while I wonder over and over what you two are up to.'-

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At the bar, Max saw someone approaching in his side vision.

Carlos was offering him an open hand.

'Sorry I was a dick before.'

It was clear that the Saint was having a hard time uttering the words, but there was also sincerity in his tone.

Max shook his hand back, unable to hold a grudge:

'No problem. Can't blame you guys for not been fans of our work.'

'Not your fault, anyway.'

'You're just looking out for your boss, can't say it's a bad thing.'

Man, it was next to impossible to hate this dude...

'Thanks.' He said, actually sincere against his own will. Max's simplicity was disarming.

'Can I get you a drink?'

'A bottle of anything it's fine.'

Max nodded sympathetically.

'Been there.’

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As soon as Carlos saw the Boss approaching the bar, he left, bringing the bottle of Vodka along. He didn't want to spend more time with Max and risk to find out more nice things about him. And if he and The Boss flirted again, well, he wasn't sure to restrain from kicking his ass.

A few meters ahead and it was already half empty. It kicked in quickly, just enough to bring a most welcomed numbness.

He felt lonely, but didn't really want to mingle with the party anymore.

He made his way up to the parking lot, not without effort because the booze was really kicking in.

'I can't just stay here, it's driving me crazy'. He suddenly felt the urge of doing something else, to go somewhere, take his head away from what could be happening right now at that damned party…

In the first line of the vehicles, his purple Compton was parked, it brought to his memory the fact that he was one of the first ones to arrive earlier from a mission, so much he was looking forward to this night.

He leant against the hood, with a small chuckle of defeated irony.

But just then he felt a soft hand on his shoulder. He looked back, and a pretty and young blond was giving him the most inviting smile. The one Bruno showed him, sitting on the couch.

'Remeber me?' She asked leaning foward. 'Kimberly?'

'Ah right, sorry.' He remembered. 'Yeah, of course. I am Carlos by the way'

'I know who you are. So you're cooling off a bit?'

'You could say so.'

He didn't want to be rude and tell her to leave, so they kind of just stood there talking.

She was rather sweet even if he was a tad bored already.

Kim was one of these nice, but overexposed to media ideals and pop culture type of chicks that instead of trying and having her own personality, morphed into something that she thought the guy in front of her would like.

'So, I heard your friend say that you are a hell of a racer.'

'If he says so.'

She kept dropping hints for them to go for a spin (and eventually more)...

Yeah, he was barely in condition of standing, let alone driving. But with a nice lady…

Her attentions sort of boosted his scratched ego, the vodka helping. It's easier to feel confident around someone you don't have feelings for.

'I think it's just what I need right now.'

After 20 minutes of progressing conversation and a very bumpy ride, they were back in the parking and lip locked at the front of the Saints Hideout.

He kissed her over and over. It was good to release it all and have someone's arms around him tonight. He was pretty sure it wouldn't take too much convincing to drag her to his room for the night, and this idea sounded just perfect about right now.

But then, he couldn't help but picturing the Boss at some point. There she was, setting camp in his head, again. And where were she right now? Probably dancing inside, with the party's number one guest. He couldn't even (wasn't proud), think about her while fucking Kimberly, he was just too pissed at her too for that.

So he broke the kiss.

'You know Kim, I know I will regret it, you're a super cool girl, but I'm sorry. Just in the wrong mood to party tonight.' He started, hoping she would catch the meaning of his words and leave.

She seemed disappointed but wasn't convinced.

'Aww, come on. Let's go to Cocks and dance then...'

'Thanks for hanging around with me.' He said. 'Where do I drop you?'
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Gat, Max and The Boss were walking around the district to take some air, the three of them crazed out from Shaundi's party favors.

'Are we leaving already?' Max asked.

'Pfff. Leaving? The best part is now. What he had in the flat was just a warm up.' The Boss answered.

'Where are we going then?'

'To start with, lets do some surfing.'

'You mean at the beach? It's a bit cold.'

Johnny and the Boss laughed hard, looking at each other.

'On the top of a car.' They answered in unison.

'Oh, that kind of surfing. Sorry kids I'm an old fart.' Max muttered, a bit embarrassed.

'No problem Max. We will show you.' The Boss pulled him by the arm. 'Come on, it's fun!'

She took off her high heels and waited for a vehicle to pass at reasonable speed and sprinted behind it, jumping at the back and then the roof when it stopped at a red light.

'Come on, there is a Bootlegger coming, it's for you!' She pointed. 'The moment it stops you jump in, don't think, just do it.'

This was easier said than done of course, but he decided not to look like a total square in front of a lady he wanted to impress and climbed in the car, landing on his stomach. Maybe it would have been easier to do that while sober. Although, that is the kind of thing you think twice before you do when you are.

'Ouch!'

'Not bad for a first time, or a cop.' Johnny teased, and jumped at a Go with the most ridiculous ease.

'Now what?' Max asked the Boss, looking as the red light was about to turn green.

'What do you mean now what? You just try not to fall.' She stated in her usual blase way, like his question was surprising.

'Sounds like a piece of cake.' He replied with irony.

She chuckled, opening her arms to get better balance, and said:

'Green! Here we go boys!'

The three cars slowly accelerated. The first seconds were very hard to keep, but then it kind of became instinctive. When the vehicle turned however, you could go from confident to one leg in less than a second.

'This is kind of fun!' Max admitted. 'Yeah!' He was starting to be more at ease with the moves, but then he heard the driver say 'Shit, it's doing that noise again' and step hard on the break.

'Wooah!'

He dived forward, rolling over the asphalt.

Johnny and the Boss jumped out of their cars immediately, seeing one man down and rushed to where he was.

'You hurt?'

But Max didn't answer. He was lying on his back and laughing his ass off.

'I think I broke a rib, but it was worth it.'

The Boss leant over to him smiling, raising an eyebrow in defy:

'Wanna try another one?'

'Hell yeah!'

He grabbed the two friendly arms that were now at his disposition and got up, to his surprise having fun like he hadn't in years.

They waited at the traffic lights again, having a drag of Vodka from Johnny's flask. It wasn't long before some more cars appeared.

The Boss and Gat were fighting like two kids for the first one, chuckling and cursing each other in their friendly way.

This time they were quicker to grab their positions, but something was wrong.

Funny, inside the car some young guys in Skeeters uniforms were talking to each other, window to window. And they were burning the tires... Could it be a...?

'Race!' Johnny warned. 'Fuck, jump!'

A few minutes later the trio was sitting on the sidewalk, still laughing and chatting.

Gat took another flask from his pocket, taking a solid drag.

'I'm going to get back. I'm out of vodka.'

Max gave The Boss a meaningful look.

'Hmm, I'm staying a bit longer.' She said. She knew Gat wouldn't tell anyone.

'Suit yourself.' He said, and then turned to Max. 'You better not do anything stupid to her, a friendly warning, just in case.'

He started then to make his way back to the crib, thinking:

'Hell, she has the right to have her fun, but, does it have to be with a cop? Couldn't be someone from the gang for instance?'
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Bruno waved at Carlos at the entrance of the mission house.

'Whoa. I saw you guys making out, dude. Niiice...'

'I dropped her home. Nothing happened. Is this soda?' He pointed at the plastic cup at Bruno's hand.

'Yeah, I don't mix my drugs.'

He grabbed it and had some, all the liquor made him thirsty.

'Ah, cabron, I see you made a bad decision here.'

'I know. I can't believe I ditched this girl.'

'I saw The Boss talking to the cop too, I knew you wouldn't like that. But, come on, don't you feel at least a bit better now?'

Carlos shook his head.

'No I don't. I know she is inside having fun with Max and I know I am the last thing she has in her mind right now. And all I can think about it's...' He chuckled bitterly, amazed at the sentence. '...It's that I hope the Boss won't find out what I did. Like she was my fucking girlfriend! Man, this is fucked up.' He pulled Bruno down with him, sitting clumsily on the floor. 'I like her, I do...'

'Yeah, you and half the gang.'

'This girl was perfectly nice, but, but, she is not the Boss. I like her because she is different. You can find two, ten, twenty Kims. But you can't find two of her. I never met anyone I could do more than just lust after. She likes me for what I am, she respects me. I want her to love me. From the day we met, I knew, fuck, this is the woman I've been waiting for.'

'Easy. You are drunk man.' Bruno said as they landed. 'Ok, I get it. You love her. Can I give you a piece of advice?

'Please. Anything will do.'

Bruno, who always thought The Boss was way off Carlos' league, said simply:

'Forget about it. Never gonna happen. If she ever gets together with anyone of the gang it will be Gat.'

'Oh shut up. You're talking nonsense. Gat isn't over Aisha. Besides, I can fucking remove this feeling and toss it away.'

'Then stop your bitching and do something about it.'

'I can't. She is my... Our...'

'...Boss, yeah, I know that. But tell her how you feel. If you don't someone else will. Look at the cop. He knows she is a G, who could, you know, kill him. But does that stop him? No! Because the guy is thinking with his dong and not with his head. You should do the same, if you listen to reason you're never going to do a thing. Really man! Do you want to keep wanking and wiping around like this forever?'

Suddenly the roles were inverted and Carlos felt that, ironically, Bruno was the wise one for a change.

Chapter Text

It was another lazy Sunday afternoon at the Trailer Park district in Stilwater. Just as usual, at that hour of the day, the residents of that 'charming' neighborhood gathered at the most quiet places (under the bridges or behind the abandoned tunnel constructions) to get wasted and avoid the cops.

Today, however, a half submerged purple Bootlegger made one think that a drunken member of the Third Street Saints might just be amongst all those low lives, in equal need of oblivion.

The Boss laid limply on the ground, she didn't recall how she managed to jump off that car before it went in the water. To be honest, she didn't see any water to begin with.

She groaned and placed her arm over her eyes to cover the sun. It was annoyingly hot and so was her booze, but it seemed like she was already too wasted to care.

In her pocket, her phone buzzed again and again, until she finally decided to pick it up.

'Holla Johnny Gat.' She answered the phone, grabbing it upside down.

The voice on the other side wasn't happy:

—'Good, you're alive. Boss? Me and Pierce were waiting for you for more than an hour and a half!'—

Gat heard a lazy hiccup on the other side of the line and a muffled noise as she turned the thing the good side up.

'Que te passa?'

Gat claimed he didn't speak any Spanish, but seemed to forget it from time to time, that is, when The Boss was either too pissed off or drunk and there was no other way to communicate with her.

—'Que me passa?! Nos dejaste chiflando en la loma! * Next time let us at least know if you want to skip a mission to get wasted!'—

'No me digas lo que tengo que hacer!**' She grunted, voice dragging. 'Listen Gat, you're my friend but If I want to get drunk, I will get drunk man.'

Gat sighed hopelessly. He didn't know what happened, but he knew how The Boss had her random blues. Yet much like to a guy, she would never talk about it. When she needed his company and support she would come for him, for them to go hit the stunts or get even drunker together.

—'Never mind. I'll call you later.'—

'Oops...' She said as the phone slipped off her hand and landed on the ground, out of reach.'Oooh. Fuck….'

Too drunk to catch.

Meanwhile, Carlos was driving his purple Compton around to see if he could find The Boss, and slowed down upon recognizing the gang leader lying on the grass without the slightest care in the world.

'There you are! What the hell are you doing here all by yourself? Are you hurt?'

'You know Carlos it's funny that you ask because I was passing by and then I decided to stop right here (The Boss pointed at the ground) and enjoy the view...' She pointed again but to the horizon this time, a bottle of whisky in the same hand, her accent changing from the effort to speak straight. 'The sun setting you see... Wow. Am I driving?'

A brief silence followed. Carlos frowned and kneeled down by her side.

'Since when do you have a British accent? Boss. It's stupid to be hanging around like this on your own and drunk after what happened with the Ronin. Don't you want me to drive you home?'

Why everyone keeps saying that? I'm fiiiine here. Nobody is moving me!'

'Ok, ok.' He answered, changing tactics. 'Can I crash here with you and have some whisky then?'

She poked his chest with one unsteady finger in an approving way.

'That's my boy! Here...'

She handed him the bottle and rested her head backwards on the grass, watching the sky, that was now shaking like a boat, from side to side.

She put her both hands on the floor like she was going to stand up but ended up tripping down over Carlos, landing the upper side of her body over his legs. She didn't seem to be aware of the fall and started to chat:

'You know who called me today?' The Boss sighed heavily and bent one of his legs up so she could lean her head against it, as casually as if it was a pillow, concentrating on what she had to say.

'Hmm... no?'

'A relative. A close relative. She kept mumbling like was speaking to herself. ' How the fuck did he find me? I have no idea. It's not like I'm in the fucking book... He asked me for money, Godamn. '

She turned over, facing up now and concluded, like she there was a need to justify something:

'I gave him. I mean, I have loads of money, not going to make a difference. But not only he took the cash, the fucker also... Called the cops. I mean, he set me up, so I... Ah, never mind. I feel like shit, like shit! '

'Sorry Boss. That's why you're drinking so much?'

She nodded and chuckled in a sad, desperate drunken way.

'Yup. You got it right, Carlos. You always get me! You're a kind, smart kid... You're going to become a good Lieutenant, the best the Saints have ever seen...' She tapped the side of his leg friendly.

'Will you cut it off and stop calling me "kid"? I'm only two years younger than you.' He replied.

'Sorry.'

'Boss, I know I don't have the right to ask you this, but... Was this close relative by any chance, your father?'

She jumped upon hearing that word and deliberately changed the subject with all the subtlety of someone who is drunk off her ass.

'Can you believe Troy was a cop?'

'You don't have to tell me about it. I'm sorry I asked.' He put one comforting hand on her shoulder, and changed the subject. 'Let's talk about work. So, I did like you asked: I have one of my boys following Donnie, he works almost exclusively to the Brotherhood. He looks after Maero's trucks, I think he is is almost a full memb…! '

Carlos stopped, cuz now The Boss was wiping fiercely, covering her face in shame. Her drunk, piercing sobs were hilarious.

However, Carlos seemed affected by it:

'Oh my God. Don't cry Boss...!' He put both hands on her shoulders, not knowing what to say.

'It's just that this story you were telling me about Donnie was so sad...'

He hugged her rubbing a hand on her back to comfort, knowing this was of course about the father thing.

'It's ok.'

'I mean, I didn't get it exactly, but it was freaking sad... Holy

shit...'

'I know...! Don't worry.'

The Boss hugged him back and her gaze followed the direction of Carlos' eyes, back and forth.

'Were you staring at my boobs Carlos?' She asked simply, as if this was a question like any other.

'God, no...!' He blushed and looked away, although yes, he kind of was. Her shirt was slipping and she was too drunk to notice it.

'You know something?' She replied, forgetting her sorrow promptly and managing to get up this time. 'I feel like dancing.'

She took two steps sideways and was about to stumble, but Carlos raised and got her just as she was about to fall.

'Carlito... Let's dance together. I know a song...'

She put one hand on his shoulder and started to move around clumsily, and he tried to follow, thinking how good it was to be this close to her, even if right now she smelled like a Gas Truck.

'Wait... I know one...' She passed an arm around his neck, and got her face closer to speak, then dragged her drunken voice along. 'We're talking away... I dunno... What I have to say... Shit, what was next?' The Boss scratched her head.

Carlos chuckled, a wave of sweet feelings washing over as he listened to her sing clumsily. It was so good to see her guard down like this. For once, he didn't have to show so much reserve and allowed himself to express a bit of this. 'Tomorrow, she'll probably forget about it...'

'...I'll say it anyway.' He completed with his accented voice, poking her nose, in a patient teacher attitude, as he started to move along and dance together.'

'Tomorrow is another day to find you...' She started, and they continued in unison, out of tune and out of rhythm. 'Shying away. I'll be coming for you love ok.'

They looked at each other as they sang, united by the complicity of this singing along, and The Boss smiled. The tender smile she kept for him and that he never saw her using with anybody else.

Carlos remained silent and kept dancing, slowly.

'This is good...' She stated lazily as she rested her head comfortably on his shoulder, sucking on a cig, too wasted to get the ambiguity of this gesture.

His heart raced a bit from this closeness, this was perfect timing to tell her how he felt. So he inhaled deeply, gathering all his courage and started:

'There's something I've been wanting to tell you for a while now...' He started, heart racing and a knot in his stomach.

'Really? Well, why don't you?'

'It's not easy. You're The Boss.'

'It's me Carlos. You can tell me anything.'

'Anything? You wouldn't treat me different?'

'Come on.' She chuckled indulgently, and gestured, not aware that that cigarette now flew from her hand. 'Of course I wouldn't. Don't be afraid to tell. Did you mess up about the Brotherhood?'

'It has nothing to do with business. It's personal...'

He was about to continue, but a sound vibration against his skin made any further word pointless.

The Boss was snoring, wide mouthed on his shoulder.

'Really?! Right now?' He closed his eyes and bobbed his head hopelessly, then sighed and caressed her hair, pressing her closer to him one more time before carrying her and heading towards the car. 'Time to get you back to the hideout, you crazy, crazy chick...'

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

It was around 10 pm when the car stopped at the front of the old mission house.

There were just a few Saints hanging here and there, most of the crew was out due to an attack to reclaim Frat Row, that was now under the Saint's control. Since The Boss didn't show, Pierce went with his men while the others waited for him to return.

Shaundi and Johnny were entertaining themselves by playing hacky sack outside with some other Saints, when Carlos exited the car, bringing their still wasted leader by the waist.

'Hi!' She waved as she passed by, her look lingering on Gat. 'Hey. You look good Johnny, you've been working out?'

Gat shook his head but still found this remark to be flattering, and smiled.

' If you say so baby.' He joked. 'It's been a while since I saw you this wasted.'

But Carlos' voice groaned, pulling her away:

'Come on Boss, it's cold, let's get you inside.'

'Great, she spends the whole afternoon with me and blacks out when I am about to tell her how I feel, but give her five seconds with Johnny and... there you go.'

They slowly made their way inside, going down the stairs.

Finally, they arrived at her bedroom and she threw herself in bed, legs hanging outside.

'Ouch.' She said, after a delay.

'Stay still, let me take off your shoes.' He said, a bit pissed off.

He kneeled to undo the laces and removed the purple converses, placing them on the floor.

'Did I piss you off Carlos?' She asked, muffled, as her head sunk on the pillow.

She heard him sigh:

'Hmph, never mind...' He pushed her legs inside the bed, she was ready to sleep it off. 'Well... There you go, all set.'

He raised and was heading for the door, but The Boss called him:

'Carlito... Do you really have to go?'

He halted, thinking just how easy it was for her to make him stop been mad, and turned on his heels, sitting on the edge of the bed.

'I can stay if you want...' He smiled, happy that she wanted to spend more time together.

She looked up, to his surprise looking all sweet and vulnerable:

'Thanks. You know, I really like you Carlos... This is no drunk talk.'

And with that she grabbed his hand, closing her eyes.

He turned and pulled the armchair that was next to the bed, sitting down and placing it close enough so she could still reach his hand.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

-'Damn man, play it cool. She is drunk. Fucking drunk.'- He shifted a bit in the armchair, against his will, a part of himself was not listening to this inner dialog neither helping him sitting comfortably. -'Yeah it's just my body that is craving for it, that is all. Lord, her legs are coming out of the cover. The Boss' skin looks like whipped cream. Don't look! Those thighs. Damn. Sooo soft... Fuck! Stop it. She is your Boss asshole.'-

He squinted his eyes shut to avoid staring again.

— 'Carlos?'

'Yup Boss?'

'Come here'. She shifted over to the other side of the bed, making space for him to lie down.

'Uh, why? I mean, I am good here.'

'Just for a bit'.

'Ok...' He replied unsurely and laid on his back carefully over the sheets, standing still like a wooden board.

He could hear The Boss breathing and with his side vision noticed that she was staring at him, so he did his best to not stare back, focusing with all might on the ceiling in order not to get too aroused by the situation.

He waited for what seemed to be an eternity, her breath getting progressively closer, so much she was now nudging his neck with her lips.

'Woah... Wha... Boss?' He chuckled nervously.

'What?' She asked innocently, raising her head. 'You don't like it?'

'You don't get it, I do, believe me, it's just that... Oh my God...!'

He interrupted himself as The Boss passed one leg over his body, climbing on top of him and gently rubbing the upper part of her body against his chest.

He could feel the skin of her inner tights brushing against the fabric of his pants, her hands traveling his torso and then starting to pull his tank top off... He felt like he was been tased with a stun gun, but still manage to keep it together, arms raised parallel to her body with palms open, to avoid the touching.

'I am probably going to shoot myself later for saying this but...I feel I am taking advantage of you. You're so fucking drunk.' He said, breathing heavily.

She grinned and looked at him meaningfully, her palms sliding up and down his arms.

'You're totally...!'

'Nah, I'm sobber now. I liked the way we danced tonight. I really want this to happen.'

Their mouths were just a few inches apart now...

'Well, in that case...' He replied, leaning closer. 'Come here.' —

Carlos had to open his eyes as the delicious mirage vanished. A pain on his elbow just woke him up.

Ouch. His arm was still hanging from the chair to the bed, where it stood all night.

On the other side of the bed, The Boss snorted, pilow over her head.

He knew very well

what was going on, they were on this dreaded place called the friendzone.

'I definitely need to do something fast!' Carlos thought.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Later that day...

Carlos invited The Boss to check their new crib at the Frat, that used to be Samedi's territory.

After looking at what had to be done to fix the place, The Boss wanted to smoke and both went outside.

He sat a bit far away in a rock on the ground, she stood against the closed door watching the last rays of sun sink into the line of the horizon. It got dark pretty quickly. She noticed Carlos barely spoke the whole time they were together. This was unusual as he used to babble on always. It was like he seemed sad or worried about something.

'Aren't you quiet today. Something bugging you?'

He looked up to her, smiling a bit.

'I'm sorry. It's nothing...'

'Hmm...' She raised her eyebrow to show she was not convinced. 'Come on. You can tell the boss stuff too you know.' She put a hand on his shoulder, in her tomboyish friendly manner. 'What's wrong? Money? Girls?' She took a shot.

'Actually yes...' He nodded while looking far ahead. Then he turned his eyes to her. 'Girls.' He said carefully. 'You are good.'

'When it comes to my Lieutenants I am glad to help.' She stated proudly.

'Come on Carlos. You have a big position in the gang, you are all cute and such a nice guy. Chicks must be lining up? If they are not, I can bring you to Tee N Ay with me next time. Maybe some strippers would do you good.'

It was the first time he heard her talk about him as a man, so he was paying a lot of attention. She actually thought he was cute then?

'No problem getting laid.' He said, smiling at how simplistic The Boss was to judge things. ' It just... Well, I like this girl. But she sees me as a friend. I don't know how to reach for her.'

'Ah, you are in the Friendzone.' The Boss finished her cig and they entered the crib. 'There is one way only to leave it, you gotta act fast and you gotta act blunt. You know, there is too much grey area already.'

As they spoke she stumbled down an old mattress on the floor, Carlos landing indecently on top of her. The Boss had to gasp as she felt his weight on her. He didn't land his legs between hers, but she could feel something scandalously hard against her hip.

'Thanks for the advice Boss.' He thought. 'It's now or never.'

'Que...?!' She growled, but was quickly muffled as he kissed her.

He brought the other one to her jaw and deepened his kiss, tongue playing fiercely and tenderly against hers.

She couldn't be more surprised. What the hell happened to him? Even though she hated to admit, under all the anger some arousal was starting to make its way. She blushed, wondering if he could see it?

We whispered as he perceived a the obvious pleasure in her expression: 'You want it too...?'

She didn't answer and all he could hear was her rapid breath. Her eyes traveled back and forth from his lips to his eyes. She was so pretty like this. Hair all messed up, cheeks flushed and lips swollen from all his kissing.

He whispered again: 'You are so beautiful...'

'Boss...' He started, gently pushing the messy hair out of her face, staring into her eyes. 'I know I should have told you this before. The words just escaped him. He needed to tell her everything. 'From the first day we met in prison, I've never really stopped thinking about you. The better i got to know you, the more I dug you. You are the most incredible woman I've ever seen, you have the courage i always wanted to have. Do you know how I feel every time you smile at me? He stroke her face gently. 'Can't you see that? I've been loving you all this time. You don't have the slightest clue of what you really mean to me. I want to tell you...'

She widened her eyes and seemed more startled at this words than by anything he did before, as in every time a guy popped the 'L' word.

'Let me out.' She commanded simply but very urgently.

He agreed, because now, for the first time, it seemed like she didn't want it, and humbly got off her.

As soon as she walked out the door, he got it.

-'What the hell did I just do? It seemed like such a good idea 3 minutes ago! Well, it doesn't seem like such a good idea now. Fuck.´-

An hour later he was sitting in the stone steps next to the nearest gas station, a bottle of 40 oz to keep him company. He sent her a text message to apologize for his behavior, she didn't answer. He checked his phone a dozen times during the day. Nothing.

He wanted her to see him in a different light. Well, that he managed. The former relationship they had went down the drain.

He was so frustrated by the way things were before, but now he wished he could just hop back right into it, the idea of ruining their friendship and the special affection she had for him was hard to accept.

And now all the reason was coming back. Why did he let such an unreliable source like a fortune teller and a drunk friend talk him into this madness?

He got her advice all wrong and crossed a line. She was going to kick him out the Saints.

Carlos shook his head sadly and took another swig. Thinking was way too painful right now. Best to be drunk to deal with the blow.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

The Boss drove away from the crib, heading to the Hideout.

Her mind was racing.

Who the fuck did he think he was ?

She knew he was immature, recruiting him as a Lieutenant was obviously a huge mistake.

She remembered how he would say he loved her and it made her stomach flip.

She muttered to herself while impatiently bypassing a red light.

' Damn.' She hit her hand on the wheel. I liked Carlos. But there is only one option now. To kick him out, or at least downgrade him to make him understand that this was a fucking gang and not in a godamn high school.'

She was driving fast, it kinda helped relieving the tension, but had to stop as a huge truck was in front of her now, no space to bypass him.

She couldn't help but remembering the scene in the crib and felt a rush of excitement.

He was a good kisser, she would have never guessed. He always seemed... So harmless. No way to see this one coming. It was as unlikely as bumping into Santa on a strip joint.

The Boss sighed, lowering her head and touching the wheel with her forehead. The shock was fading and she started to realize that her hear was beating fast, in a strong mix of fear and this other, unknown feeling she couldn't name.

-'How could it feel so good... What would have happened if I didn't tell him to stop?'-

They would probably have... Yeah, right there in that mattress...

Carlos would then be naked on top of her, his breath quick like before... Except this time she would caress him too, hands running up and down his back, that must've been the same pale, even tone of his face... She would feel that sensation she had in her chest now, again but much stronger...

-'You are drifting from the point here!' She thought. 'He crossed a line, to say the least.'-

But the flashbacks were there and she couldn't stop them. His breath hard and fast, showing how much he desired that moment, the passionate look in his eyes...

Panicked, she instinctively grabbed her phone.

'Shaundi? Yeah I think need you right now...'

There was a muffled sound of electronic music and people laughing on the other side, Shaundi sounded less than eager to move from where she was.

'Hey Boss. I'm in a party downtown. Is this urgent?'

'Not really... Well... I was at looking at the flat we just bought at the Frat, and Carlos made a move on me...'

'What?! Where are you?'

'Chinatown.'

'Stay where you are.' She seemed excited. 'I'm coming.'

'No. I will meet you there. It's nothing worth leaving your party for...'

'Are you kidding?' She said. 'This is huge! I will wait for you outside.' And she gave her the address.

The Boss put it on her GPS, kind of regretting she told someone, but it was to late. She needed to talk it out anyway.

20 minutes later they were sitting on a door step too but it was of some guy's kitchen's, a bottle of wine between them.

'It's nothing really. I dunno why I am telling you this...' The Boss started, a bit embarrassed. 'How should I punish him for that? He is messing with me right? You know how hard it is to be on the lead when you are a broad. If I let it pass it will blow the respect the guys have for me and...'

'Hold on.' Shaundi grabbed her wrist to stop her from sipping her wine too fast like she was doing since they got there. 'What exactly did he do, Boss?'

'Well, he was asking me for advice on women. I just told him he should be more, you know, bold... The next thing I can remember, he is on top of me, and kissing me.'

Shaundi sighed heavily, in a sort of melancholic delight. 'Good times.' She stated grinning broadly. 'You are definitively teaching this kid something...'

'Wha? What the fuck is wrong with you?' The Boss spat back, looking annoyed.

Shaundi turned her face to her, and incarnating the big sister, replied:

'No. What the fuck is wrong with you?'

'What is that supposed to mean?' The Boss asked, pointing at her in threatening way.

'What is it? You didn't like the kiss?'

She was surprised by this question and tried to find something to say.

'Why... Why are you telling me this?'

'He doesn't know how to kiss, is that it?' She seemed disappointed. 'Once I dated this guy, Fernando. He was my dorm neighbor. Worst kisser ever. He would play helicopter on my mouth, it was like was getting my teeth cleaned.'

The Boss had to laugh at her for a moment, lighting up a bit.

'No... It was not like this at all. Her vowels were lagging a bit, the wine was kicking in. 'He was a pretty decent kisser. A very good one actually.'

'Aha!' Shaundi smiled.

'That is not the point. She regained a bit of her seriousness. 'This kid crossed a fucking line and you know it.'

'I know.' She nodded. 'But it was bound to happen sooner or latter. Come on Boss, a blind guy can see it, he is crazy about you.'

The boss put her glass down.

'What the fuck are you saying this for?'

'Don't tell me you never saw it.'

'Nope. And I wished he never told me. Now I get it, that's why I bumped into him sleeping in a chair in my bedroom that night, when I passed out.'

'How did you know he was there if you passed out?'

'I woke up in the middle of the night to toss cookies.'

'Classy. Anyway, everybody notices it… And if you want my opinion: A man as devoted as him doesn't come around in packs you know?'

'Anda a banarte! You are not helping me.' She waved her hand grumpily.

'This coming from the gal who changes boyfriend every week...'

'I haven't found the right one yet... One day, if I come across a man who is cute and loves me for what I am rather than my curves, maybe I will decide to stay...'

Shaundi stopped and raised an eyebrow at the Boss in a condescending manner.

This frank look made the Boss go off her guard a little bit. This was a peculiar trait of Shaundi. She would cut anybody's crap.

'What am I supposed to do? Pretend what he did was normal?'

'No, but cut him some slack. And be honest. I know you. Don't tell me there wasn't a way to get off his grip and kick his ass, or run away if you wished.'

She tilted her head back, laughing a bit nervously. Maybe it was Shaundi. Or the wine. Or the teenage vibe the party noise brought. She lighted up entirely.

'Ok, for a moment there it was actually freaking good. I was so...wet. Both women laughed heartily. Maybe it's because he is so nice and sweet in general. It was a huge contrast. Who could guess that little Carlos had a dangerous side? But...! It's still wrong, and I am not going to let it go by like it was nothing. My godamn reputation is out there...'

Shaundi merely took the bottle on the ground and emptied it on her glass.

'You need to drink more Boss...'

'He said he loved me. ' The leader or the Saints stuttered.

'And...?'

'Yeah I don't want that. You know Carlos and you know me, I would hurt him, for real. And, It freaks the shit out of me.' She shrugged.

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Six o'clock.

Another bottle. The memories were getting fuzzy now, thank God.

'Borracho, huh?' A female voice stated casually by his side. He looked on his right. The Boss was sitting next to him on the step. He was borracho indeed. How long she is been sitting there?

'Wow. I didn't see you.' He said, and the longest silence on the history of the universe followed.

Not only he was drunk, he didn't have the slightest idea of what could he say next. It was awkward.

'I'm sorry. I know what I did was off limits.' Carlos finally started, speech altered by the booze

He then turned to look at the street and waited painfully for the moment she would tell him he was banished from the gang.

At this, The Boss turned her head away. Its hard been mad at someone when they just gave you the big puppy eyes. For a moment she thought of letting it go, but this was no time to play soft. If he would go and tell someone, it could lead to a total demoralization of her image. The next day some billy who just got canonized would feel he had actually a possibility and try to steal the leadership of this 'bitch' who was just a woman, good to be fucked but useless to be in charge.

'I thought a lot about it.' She said bluntly. He saw her using this tone before but never with him 'Not going to lie to you. You deserved more than a good kick in the balls for what you did. I killed people for less than that. But... Since you were the one who busted me out, I'm going to keep things as they are. Maybe I'm making a mistake. Don't make me regret it. I hope you won't mess it up again Carlos. If you do, don't count on me being there to pick up the pieces for you like usual. And I want your head in your job now. No more useless meetings, I want fucking results. Got that?'

Her words went right in, bringing him back to sober with a kick. It hurt. Even if it wasn't as bad as he expected: He understood, this was her way of telling him nothing would ever happen between them. He felt his heart burning, but didn't show in his face, getting a grip of himself.

'I swear.' He said firmly.

A few moments later he sensed that she got up and walked away, then heard a

car noise, driving away.

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*You stood us up! You sound totally wasted.

**Don't tell me what to do!

Sorry to leave things on a sore note but more is coming. Let's hope The Boss get over her commitment issues. Thanx for reading, please review

Chapter Text

Disclaimer: I don't own Saints Row.

Drugs and crime aren't cool, keep in mind this is fiction!

The sun wasn't up yet at the Red Light District.

Most of the Saints were still sleeping, but The Boss and Gat had something scheduled for the day already: Breaking in a Samedi Reefer to appropriate their drug shipment.

She asked Carlos to come too, much to his relief. Since that day at the crib, they tried to avoid each other at all costs. It was probably a way of showing him that they were good.

Running a little late, Carlos dried himself, getting out of the shower, now that the Hideout had warm water functioning.

He then started to comb his hair on the mirror, but dropped the task half way, as one crushed sigh erupted from his chest. It happened every time his mind wasn't so busy, and he had a little time to think: The same feelings came to surface:

Sadness, anger, disappointment… He hated himself for being stupid enough to believe that The Boss could actually like him. 'Me.' He thought, chuckling bitterly.

' You should have settled for all the friendship she has for you, with all the favours she does even if you're not even worthy of this Lieutenant grade. But no, Carlos, you decided to dream it on and believe a fucking fortune teller, just because she told you what you wanted so much to hear.'

He walked to the jeans he was wearing the day before, retrieving a small package he always carried with him. It was painful to look at it now, like the little wrapping was making fun of everything that he hoped for.

He walked to the open toilet and raised his hand, with the intention of tossing it inside, but his hand just stood there shaking back and forth in hesitation. Then he simply let it over the sink, unable to get rid of it.

He still wanted to believe that there was a force out there capable of granting his wish... He knew it would be there for a long time, if not indefinitely. But for now, what choice did he have? He had to concentrate on the loyalty and respect he had for the gang leader, and try not to think about the feelings he had for the woman. The truth is she messed up with his heart from the day they met, even if by accident. He knew it wouldn't be fair to hold her responsible for his feelings. He joined the gang for other reasons too. It was time to focus on them.

He grabbed Hector's cross, the one that he never removed, not even to shower or sleep and muttered:

'God, if You can't help me bringing her heart to me, at least help me to do my job right, and do what she and everyone here expects of me. I'm Saint, I can't let them down, they are counting on me.'

A knock on the door pulled him back to reality, as Gat's voice filled the bedroom:

'We're ready!'

He opened the bathroom door a bit and poked his head, only to see Gat stretching himself on the armchair, while he pointed to a bottle of vodka that was over the dresser.

'Do you mind?'

Carlos smiled at how comfortable Gat could get, and the fact that he didn't mind drinking heavy alcohols before a mission. He replied friendly, glad to have a distraction from his dark thoughts:

'Mi casa es su casa, Gat.'

'Gracias guey*' Johnny replied in his perfect Spanish, making a toast and taking a long swig.

Carlos hastily put the first clean shirt and pair of pants he found on the bathroom, and didn't care to finish combing his hair. He simply placed his purple skull cap over it in a hurry and left to the bedroom.

'Is the Boss ready too?' He asked after a hesitation. They lived under the same roof but hasn't seen her in days.

'Yeah, she is at the entrance telling Shaundi how she put the head of a Ronin on the barbecue grill'

'Shit, I didn't know that.' Carlos said, sitting on the bed to put his sneakers.

'Yeah, apparently she was bored as hell.' Gat joked. 'Just glad that we're best friends'

'You have nothing to fear on that side' Carlos smiled, though his own joke came out bitter. 'If I keep doing as I am, I'm not so sure I won't end up on the roast as well.'

'Come on kid. Jokes aside, you're just starting. We know that' Johnny assured him, taking his lips off the bottle for a moment. 'Besides, I know The Boss enough to tell that she adores you. '

'I'm not so sure about that anymore' He said, going to the side of his bed, to grab a shotgun. Gat seemed a bit intrigued, but Carlos changed the subject:

'What are we going to do on that boat?'

'Well, Shaundi knows this guy that works on the stands near the docks. Big shipment of Loa Dust can't sit quiet for long. If everything goes smoothly, we'll have enough Loa Dust to fill the hideout.'

'Shaundi wasn't kidding when she said that The Samedi were knee deep into black magic.' Johnny whispered, as he, Carlos and The Boss entered through the deck on the living parts of the boat. It was a small corridor, illuminated by candles; the dark walls were decorated with cabalistic symbols and skull tags.

The environment was everything but healthy.

Above their heads, suspended by thin wires, hanged animal carcasses; suspicious stains covered parts of the ground.

'Well, this is a meat cargo ship' Carlos commented, bending to pass under the wire.

The Boss kicked something on the floor, as if to make a point: A pile of bones and more than one human skull.

'This ain't no chicken carcass, look.'

Johnny and Carlos turned to look at the remains, suddenly taken by an unpleasant sensation.

'Fuck… Human sacrifice.' Carlos muttered in disbelief and crossed himself. 'I thought this kind of shit only happened in movies or something…'

'These guys are fucked up' The Boss agreed as they proceeded into the cargo hold, against her will disturbed by the haunting discomfort that filled the building.

'Funny that no one is guarding a huge shipment like this.' Carlos considered.

He was right: Oddly enough they didn't find much resistance; the surprise factor must have been helping…

It seemed more like a ghost ship.

Gat was disappointed to find only one guy to shoot inside the room where many large boxes were stored, presumably containing the Loa Dust.

They started to open them, only to have another disappointing surprise.

'No drug.' Gat said finally, finding only frozen steaks on his box.

'Same for us' The Boss and Carlos inspected the last one.

They looked at each other and shrugged, ready to turn over. Waking up so early was useless, nothing of their interest could be found there. Was Shaundi high or something when she heard of this tip? No wonder the boat was almost empty of Samedi gang members, it had nothing on it.

On their way back, they passed over the dead body, the only Gat could count on today's score, and The Boss made them stop for a bit.

'I don't want to go back empty handed. Let's see if this guy has at least a sample on him, so we can give it to Laura.'

'Carlos, watch the door' Johnny said, starting to search the body. 'Hmm. Nada.'

'Where else could the sample be?' He checked the Samedi's pockets one more time.

'Hmm.' The Boss considered. 'I am pretty sure that it's in his rectum.'

Gat reacted in disgust immediately to this idea.

'Oh no, no. Shit you can't be serious?'

The Boss shrugged.

'They do that sometimes. In case the police che…'

'...Who will do it? Yo, I am not doing it.' He was quick to cut, so she looked at Carlos, who was even quicker to look away and pretend he wasn't there.

'Damn.' She sighed. 'Give me that plastic bag.'

Gat handed her a Lick a Chick bag on the floor and couldn't help but turn his head to one side as he started to picture what would the retrieving be like.

'Rock, paper, scissor ?' She asked, bag in her hand.

'Fine.' Gat consented, putting one hand behind his back. 'Go!'

They played and he lost.

'Damn it!'

'You can't just use paper every time Gat.' Carlos slipped, but regretted it as soon as Johnny glanced at him with a killer look. Maybe the Second in Comand sucked at the game, but he could still kick his ass alright.

'Hey don't complain it's usually me who gets the shitty part…' The Boss added to his relief.

Her interlocutor winced, not knowing if he was to laugh or to puke.

'Literally.'

At the control room of that same boat, four men watched the Saints interacting on a black and white screen.

An elegant man with shaved head, dressed in a suit was listening to their conversation attentively through earphones. Standing up right next, was a very tall man with dreadlocks and piercing green eyes.

The other two were bodyguards for their Boss, clad in green and carrying rifles.

'Those are the so called Third Street Saints?'

The Leader of the Samedi seemed unimpressed and removed his earphones, then turned to his second in command.

'Yes General' Sunshine replied respectfully. 'The Leader of the Saints, and second in command Johnny Gat.'

'I don't see how such a pair of idiots could be causing our crew so much trouble.' His voice was impatient.

Sunshine was quick to get the hint and apologized with a small bow.

'I'm sorry that we allowed them to interfere with our business for so long. I'm taking care of it myself, you can go back in peace.'

'I'm counting on you my friend' The General raised and put one hand on Sunshine's shoulder.

Sunshine raised and humbly opened the door for his Boss.

As soon as the General left, he reached for an intercom and biped another part of the ship.

'Is everything ready?'

' Yes, Mr. Sunshine. We prepared the altar like you requested.'

The theory was right: something that seemed like a small package of drug was retrieved from the dead guy's ass.

'Just so you remember, we didn't use to do those disgusting stuff back in the day.' Gat complained, and threw her the drug in retaliation for losing the game.

Out of reflex The Boss grabbed it in the air, regretting it immediately.

'Yeah, we will need to wash this bag before we give it to Shaundi.' She stated, holding the package away from her nose.

Carlos was going to add something to this conversation, but a faint noise of something rolling and bumping its way multiple times on the floor drew his attention.

He had the time to recognize the object, but none of them had the time to leave the room.

A flash bang.

It did its stunning effect in half a second, leaving the Saints without vision and faint ringing on their ears.

So much for the contact that gave them the false info about the shipment. This was a trap, pure and simple.

The Boss could feel someone grabbing her by the hair, after punches and kicks rain over her, Gat and Carlos. They couldn't even figure where the blows came from. When they regained their senses, the Samedi had wrapped their wrists strongly with ropes.

'Mr. Sunshine has plans for you three.' One of them said, as they dragged them into the engine room of the boat.

'What's taking them so long?' Shaundi asked Pierce. Lazy Friday, they enjoyed some take in from Apollos's in front of the TV. She was unable to reach Gat on the phone.

'Don't worry girl, they're probably done with the Samedi already. By now they must be 'researching' with all the Loa they got.' Pierce answered with a significant smile.

'Assholes…' Shaundi muttered. 'This is a gang, we're supposed to share, right?'

Sunshine waited, dressed in a long and green ceremonial robe, bare feet and for the first time without his colored knit hat. Behind the trio spotted, much to their disbelief, an improvised altar with many candles, skulls and tapestries.

'This is getting worst by the second.' Johnny muttered.

'Bow before the Sons of Samedi!' He commanded, but as this got nothing but faint laughs from the prisoners, he came closer.

'It's like this, by drinking the blood of our enemies, that we the Sons of Samedi, make ourselves stronger and prevail over our rivals!' He raised his arms in fanatic enthusiasm towards the altar, and the other gang members cheered, equally touched by these words.

He turned to The Boss and smiled, then stopped his gaze over Gat and Carlos, with delighted anticipation. Apparently, he enjoyed that part of the job a little too much.

'Let them go, you already have me. I give you my word that The Saints will leave your gang alone.' She said.

'They also disrespected us. They followed your orders when you had our farm burned, our men killed and our territory stolen. But don't feel sorry for them, you'll be all together soon.'

'You sick piece of shit!' She spat on his face, and one of his men immediately smashed his rifle on her head, revolted for that lack of respect towards Sunshine. The Boss dropped to the ground, groaning in pain. She brought one hand weakly to her head but couldn't even feel the wound. This was followed by a kick in the stomach, in the meaning of suppressing any more disrespectful behavior towards their superior.

Gat shivered in rage and vigorously chest bumped into the aggressor, knocking the man out of balance and hoping to draw their attention to him so they would leave his friend alone.

As he received a phenomenal punch in the stomach, he soon joined The Boss, face down on the ground, and the two exchanged a pained look, understanding each other: So far they were out of ideas.

Only Carlos stood quiet, though shaking in indignation and blazing the Samedi with a glance of pure hate. He stepped up, hopping that he would be picked first.

Sunshine shook his head negatively:

'Ladies and leaders first'. He made a sign for the gangsters, who bent to cut the ropes that encircled The Boss's wrists. 'Take her'

'If its blood you want take me, you bastards! Let her go!' Carlos voice screamed in the background.

* Thanks dude.

Next chap very soon!

Chapter Text

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The two Samedi dragged me towards the black altar, forcing me to sit on it. Sunshine paused to concentrate and started to mutter prayers, recite verses in an unknown language. He seemed to have slipped into some sort of religious ecstasy.

If I didn't find myself being an important part of this sick bullcrap, I would be probably laughing my ass off then. But instead, it was pure panic that started to crawl through my body. I didn't believe in black magic, but did in crazy people doing crazy shit.

I can still hear his creepy voice:

'It is time.'

My nervous eyes recognized an object on his hand. It was some sort of weird rod: A skull on one side and a blade on the other.

The Samedi were on each side of me, painfully holding my arms. At the sign, they lowered me down and my back found the cold stone. All I had to stare in that moment was the iron of the platform over us, and the crazy priest's ecstatic expression.

Another unpleasant sensation of cold spread through my skin as Sunshine tore part of my shirt open, exposing my chest to the triangular blade, now touching the spot near to my heart.

I heard my friends cursing with exasperation on the background.

Shit. If a plan was ever going to present itself, it had to be now.

I gazed around, my mind desperately considering everything in the environment within a few seconds.

All the adrenaline must have increased my senses.

I just found something on that altar that could be our salvation.

I raised my head and my gaze searched for Gat's, I addressed an intelligence look to the boys, as if to tell them to be on their guards.

For the first time I saw Johnny pale, but he nodded back, and waited.

I drew a deep breath to gather all the strength left, making a tremendous effort to twist one arm and break free, trying to ignore the pain from my skin been cut by the blade in that movement. It didn't go deep, but blood squished freely on what was left of my shirt.

In a desperation move, I reached for one of the candles in the altar and threw molten wax on one of the Samedi's face. He stumbled back and screamed:

'Aaaah! Bitch!'

It created a moment of confusion that the guys were quick to take advantage from. I kicked the other Samedi, then hopped out off the altar and tried to grab a candelabrum to defend myself, but no sooner than my hands touched the iron a breath taking pain made me gasp, and let go of the weapon.

Sunshine twisted one of my arms brutally behind my back. I winced while he was screaming in my ear:

'That is blasphemy!'

He took the sharp part of the rod and was ready to slice my throat open, if I didn't manage to smash my heels on his bare feet, smiling in satisfaction at the loud scream it drew from him.

Of course it didn't stop him for long, he attacked back, and I brought the fight to the ground as he was much taller than me.

I quickly turned to check on the others and was relieved to see that Gat and Carlos brawled their way too.

Always there when you needed him, Gat came and broke our fight by kicking Sunshine in the head.

I gazed at Carlos who was also holding himself pretty well against his opponent, and for a moment though, that is it, we're leaving this boat alive.

We decided to take a dash before Sunshine recovered and rushed to the iron stairs that led to the exit, with one single purpose, get the fuck out of that sick place.

Johnny went first, followed by me and Carlos.

We were halfway up when the doors in front of us opened and two more green shirts appeared.

Johnny was closer so they threw themselves at him. I rushed to help Gat since I was the only one that wasn't tied, but it was too late. They used a stun gun to bring him to the ground, and since I was standing right next, got zapped too.

Brutal hands grabbed my leg and the taser came in action again, A Samedi was pulling me up the steel stairs with him.

I still had the time to look at Carlos, who came closer to help.

'Run Carlos, run!' I shouted.

We didn't have a chance anymore, but he did.

I saw him hesitating so I made it an order:

'Get the fuck out of here!'

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Carlos didn't stop running until he passed over that creepy corridor they used to access the interior of the boat, his eyes suddenly resting on a black candle.

'Shit, I'm pretty sure that it will hurt' He muttered, putting the ropes on his wrist over the flame. To avoid paying so much attention to the physical sensation, he concentrated on what he had to do, pushing back the feeling of panic: The Boss and Gat could be dead right now.

That she returned his feelings or not, it wasn't important; all he knew was that he wasn't going to let her like this...

'There's gotta be something on that boat that I can use.'

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Even if hopeless, the two Saints never stopped fighting.

Gat kicked the Samedi tormenting them off the platform, killing him on the fall.

Meanwhile The Boss had to go down the stairs and hurry throw herself at Sunshine, who was now shooting at them both.

Gat didn't waste a single second and went to the last man standing (who was quite bulky), bear hugging him. It caused his rifle to fire down over the steel platform, making the room under it to be a rather unsafe place to stay.

Not in the slightest distracted by this danger, Sunshine kept pushing The Boss towards the altar with his rod as they fought, unable to renounce his original project. She wasn't in such a good shape, and had to step back in that direction against her will, as he expertly swung the blade in the air, almost hitting her.

To her misfortune, while dodging one of his slashes she tripped over the body of a dead Samedi, and kissed the ground.

She landed on something cold that hurt her stomach, but did her best not to show to Mr. Sunshine just how happy she was when she realized what the object was.

He approached, seeing that his opponent wouldn't turn or get up, and presumed that he won the fight.

His imposing shadow reflected on the wall, the edge of the blade on his rod fantastically reshaped by the reflection of the candles, ready to discharge the blow over the Boss's lowered head.

Except, she drew a Vice, discharging a good number of bullets in his body.

Sunshine tripped over limply.

Like a weird, bloody doll and fell on his knees, sliding sideways.

'Phew!'

The Boss bent over a little and had the forehead pressed on the floor, catching her breath. She drew one more breath and prepared to go help Gat upstairs.

But as she turned, a hand griped her throat, with iron like tenacity.

What the fuck? The dead returned?

Sunshine raised her in the air and walked forward, never stopping from squeezing her throat. How he could still be alive…?

She just shot him at least five times!

By the ultimate irony she soon found herself lying on the altar again. The thing with Sunshine was that you could never be sure which time was really going to be the last.

'Fucking hell!' She thought, seeing that in spite of everything her situation didn't improve. Sunshine's grip was so strong, she was starting to black out from the lack of air, her mind started to race in panic as she was been asphyxiated. She grabbed his hands but there was no strength left in her fingers.

Out of nowhere, disconnected images from her past started to pass in her mind's eye at lightning speed.

She was seven years old, waiting at a long and crowded corridor of a public hospital in Mexico. Her dirty hands painfully held a piece of cloth to her bleeding mouth.

People were saying things in front of her, bluntly. Only fragments of their conversation could be heard:

' No she doesn't have anyone to take her'

' Forget about it, he broke the girl's jaw. He won't pay for anything.'

Weirdly, the hospital disappeared and now she was a teenager, dressed in rather shitty, shabby clothing as she used a public phone to talk to someone.

She barely had the time to acknowledge this vision and the picture changed already, out of control. Her heart reacted painfully as she recognized a stunning man with dark skin talking to her at a graveyard, a group of people dressed in purple observing them.

He held her shoulders solemnly:

' You earned your colors today.' Now her heart was flooded with gratitude and pride.

The scenario shifted again, she found herself in an abandoned church: A young Asian man patted her on the shoulder and said 'You don't look like much. But then, I don't look like I have an eight inch cock so I guess we're full of surprises'.

Now you could see a fancy building, on the background countless bodies of gangsters dressed in yellow. A man with intimidating style and class was giving her a pair of keys to his penthouse, in his attitude, there was respect and admiration.

Except in the next second she was in the living room of a house in the suburbs, watching a beautiful woman tied to a chair. In the blink of an eye a bald man swung his sword and decapitated her. She wanted to run after him and make him pay for what he did, but this was quickly followed by a blinding explosion and the feeling of being deceived. Blind rage pumped in her veins, but it was completely calmed as the last flashback presented itself.

A pale young man was staring at her, dressed in an orange jumpsuit. She told him 'Do you really expect me to trust some guy I don't even know?' Although, she knew instinctively, that she could. Carlos… But he managed to escape, and that was a relief.

'Val! Val!'

A familiar voice was screaming, bringing her back to reality with a kick. She was surprised that someone was calling her that and realized that she could breathe again.

Sunshine loosened the grip, preferring her to be conscious to feel the blade pass through her heart.

Was it to fulfill some request of their sect's strange rituals, or was it simply for sadistic reasons? Impossible to say.

The sharp blade shone inches apart from her chest, ready to be used.

She turned to see who was calling her as she didn't have the strength to do more, and recognized Gat across the large room.

He knocked the Samedi down and started to run down the stairs, but there was no human effort that could make him arrive in time.

She felt sorry for him, regretting that he might follow her shortly…

She gazed at Sunshine's piercing eyes, and expected with indifference the cold pain that should cut the strings that linked her to life, but Carlos was back.

Even if unarmed he discharged a punch between Sunshine's eyes, so strongly that the priest was knocked off his feet.

He grabbed The Boss by the arm, taking her out of the altar and placing himself protectively between her and the crazy voodoo gangster.

Sunshine swung his blade in the air, successfully hitting his neck, and smiled as blood started to run down his torso.

'You're finished my friend, accept that there is no way out of this for you' He said, pointing at a small legion of Samedi that started to invade the room.

'My ass!' Carlos said, taking something from under his coat, and tossing it over some engines, making it impossible to be retrieved.

He raised his hand to show that he just pressed a button on a small remote control.

'Beep beep'

'SHIT! Bomb!'

Everybody panicked and he didn't waste time to grab the Boss' hand, guiding her to the exit. As they passed by Johnny, his face shone with recognition. That silent compliment coming from the badass he feared and had admiration for at the same time mattered a lot.

'Nice job. Let's get the fuck out of here!'

They reached the deck in no time, kicking the mass of screaming people that tried to reach their way out as well.

Helped by Gat, he tossed The Boss on the water first, jumping right after as the meat cargo exploded with all its creepy craziness.

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Later that night, Gat organized an improvised party at the hideout to celebrate Carlos' heroic deed. And it turns out he did a pretty good job. He even managed a last minute call to get some top class strippers and a DJ.

It barely started and everybody was already having a hell of a time. The whole gang was eager to celebrate the fact that what could have been a disastrous defeat, turned out to be a smashing victory at the last minute. It was a fight for many heroes, one in particular. Almost the totality of the gang appreciated this kid, for his kindness and loyalty. Everyone was looking forward to praise his action.

The man who saved the day was still was in his bedroom, changing his ragged clothes after a quick drop at the infirmary to put a bandage over his neck.

As he headed downstairs, an enormous, enthusiastic choir greeted him. Everybody stopped everything they were doing to cheer; a few rounds of ammo were also fired on the roof to celebrate.

Overwhelming.

It was like a dream. All of this was for him. He felt so grateful for this warm welcome that it got him speechless. Carlos felt flattered and actually pretty proud of himself for once.

'Ah, bro, I wished you were here to see this. You would have been so fucking proud of your little brother'.

Gat was standing at the last step, waiting. He nimbly made his way up, raising his arms, and the crowd hushed. His presence alone was enough to impose silence.

'All I can say is...' He steadily grabbed his hand, shaking it strongly to demonstrate his recognition. 'You fucking rocked it today.' He raised his bottle in the air to propose a toast and the whole gang followed. 'To Carlos!'

The were louder than ever. His hand hurt, crushed under Johnny's mighty grip, but he didn't care. This had everything to be the best day of his life. He joined his palms and waved it in the air, thanking everybody.

'Jesus. This is better than winning the godamn world cup!'

There was one face he wanted the most to see him up there, surrounded by all this triumph.

He looked in the crowd for The Boss, but was disappointed to notice she was nowhere to be seen.

He and Johnny headed downstairs, as the gang resumed their partying and the DJ blasted music through the speakers.

'The Boss is in her room, I dunno why she didn't come yet, but I'm sure she won't miss a party like this for the world.' Gat told him, like he suddenly guessed his thoughts.

They were making their way through the crowd with difficulty, people stopped to compliment him or to give a tap on the shoulder, finally carrying him on their shoulders. Gat left him there having his moment and headed for The Boss' room to check if she was ok.

Maybe she wasn't feeling so good? It was not like her to miss a party in the honor of a Lieutenant who saved her life, he knew she always liked to thank her crew personally when something extraordinary happened...

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The Boss was sitting at the corner of the bed for more than half an hour, chin in one hand. She must have been immersed in unpleasant thoughts, because she was frowning and impatiently shaking a leg.

She had make up, her hair was dry and done. The bruises and cuts she had from the confrontation were not a big deal; she went to parties in far worst condition. All that was missing now was to put on her outfit, hanging in a chair right in front of the bed. Somehow she seemed to find this last step too difficult.

A knock at the door interrupted all the deep thinking.

'You ok there?'

She put a silk robe over her bra and opened the door.

'It's you Johnny. What's up?' She sounded relieved and tilted her head to one side, inviting him to enter.

He lied on the bed, in his usual friendly irreverence.

'Wanted to know what is taking you so long. Laura said she won't be letting anyone near the space cake 'till you get there.' He took a swig from his bottle. 'You women take forever to get dressed. I remember that Eesh… I was always late because of her… Well.' He stopped himself, and simply threw the whisky at her 'Want some?'

'No thanks.' She threw it back.

'Wait.' He said, suddenly taking his feet down and sitting to face her. 'What is bugging you?'

She shrugged and replied, trying to sound indifferent like always:

'Nothing man.'

'Boss...' He started, lowering his head so his eyes were visible from behind his glasses. 'You can bullshit anyone but me. No liquor? Cut the crap.'

It was annoying, all this pushing, but he was right. She could lie to anybody, not to him.

She took a few steps towards Gat and grabbed his bottle, taking a deep sip as she leant on the table in front of him.

'I'm feeling a bit weird tonight.'

'What happened?'

'Nah, don't want to talk about it. I think I will stay in and sleep it off.'

'Ok... If you need to talk or anything, you know where to find me.' He tapped her shoulder sympathetically.

'Thanks Johnny.'

He stood up and passed the door, but suddenly remembered something and turned on his heels, his head poking at the frame:

'Boss? Is there something you want me to tell Carlos on your behalf?'

She sighed heavily and answered:

'Right. Tell him what he did was fucking impressive. And that... I wished I could tell him all myself.'

'He will be glad. Too bad you're not coming. He really deserves it.'

'Gat?' She called at the last minute, trying to make it sound as casual as possible. 'Have you ever seen someone differently, all of a suddenly?'

'I dunno what you mean exactly, but, yup.'

'So?'

He chuckled in amusement, knowing very well how such things ended, even if he didn't have a clue of who she was talking about.

'Just make sure to wear a condom. Sweet dreams.'

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The party was a roof raiser. Now it was 4 am and most people's steam's were blow off from the crazy shit they did and all the drugs. The hideout was a mess of empty cans, melted foam and beer puddles. Some Saints were even sleeping on the stairs, or over the pool table. The few men still standing were heading out to greet sunrise with a street race.

If one was looking for Gat would find him sleeping soundly. He was lying over the counter of the bar, glasses still on. A kind soul put a blanket over him, his shirt was gone and his shoes too. A ridiculously large number of shot glasses were pilling up next to an Urban TK, indicating that whatever dangerous game that was played, he probably came out as the winner.

Only Shaundi left the party early to a more private one, carrying her soon to be ex to a room.

It was next to impossible to sleep well with all the noise that went on.

The Boss was starting to grow claustrophobic. As the loud music stopped and voices were starting to fade, she decided that most people were off.

It was clear to go out.

She had to avoid someone at all costs. Why? She wasn't sure, but a gut feeling was telling her it was the best thing to do.

She put her robe and followed her way to the balcony to have a smoke, they went back inside. On her way back to the room, she crossed Pierce running up the stairs. He seemed excited as he adjusted his cap in his head, and was talking to someone, she couldn't see yet.

'Hurry up! No matter what those assholes say, I'm riding the Vortex!' He looked up and finally noticed a figure leaning against a column. 'Morning Boss! You feeling better?'

She nodded vaguely as she heard someone catching up behind Pierce and turned to see who it was.

Carlos was still awake, apparently.

She gazed at him, hoping that she could still see him in the old light.

His eyes concentrated on hers for a sec and he smiled sadly, surely from the absence in the party.

All the effort was useless. He seemed so different. His exterior was the same, but she couldn't seem him as a kid anymore. She had a strange will to bury her head on that chest, that was always open for her, always inviting… Then sink into that feeling of sweetness, of belonging that seemed to walk hand in hand with Carlos. Allow herself to be comforted in those arms that were so protecting, and get closer to that soul that also longed for understanding and love. Ironically, behind all his shyness he was the first men she met that was strong and consistent enough to make her feel totally safe.

She had to muffle the will to call him, and looked away cuz the eye contact was becoming unusually long, and simply headed for the gun supply. She had to do something to keep her mind busy.

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'What are you doing here?' She asked, lowering her gun. 'I thought you were racing with Pierce.'

The Boss was surprised to see Carlos opening the door to the studio she broke in at Sommerset, hunting for Brotherhood drug labs.

'The Brotherhood it's still my job right? Even if I keep screwing it up. I am still the Lieutenant responsible for it.' He said bitterly, charging his shotgun. For a change, he sounded really pissed.

'I don't remember telling you to do so.' She replied dryly, his stubbornness was starting to hit a nerve.

'I see. Like last time.' He said, releasing his resentment about the boat episode.

'Yeah. Like last time. Were you crazy?!'

She was also more pissed than she expected. Maybe something else, more overwhelming, was reacting inside, and being angry was the only way she knew to deal with that.

'What was I supposed to do? Let you get killed?'

She found nothing to counter and kept silent. He was right, if he had followed her orders, she and Gat would be dead.

'You're welcome by the way.' He snapped, turning to leave.

In the quick moment their eyes met The Boss read so much bitter disappointment that her almost always inaccessible heart was gripped.

Yes, she had seen mortal fear, hate, and despair in the eyes of people she killed before. It did nothing to her. When she was burying Shogo alive to a choir of his blood freezing screams of mercy, nothing but hate and delight worked her heart.

But it with Carlos it's always been different. All it took was one look from those wide, dark eyes and everything that was bad in her seemed to go to a distant place.

She reached for him, and placed a hand on his shoulder:

'I just freaked when I thought you could have died because of me.'

'...You are just feeling guilty!' He answered, turning his head away.

'And why is that?'

'You know why. After that stupid shit I pulled, you...'

'Forget it. Stop beating yourself down.'

'Hmph... I shouldn't be giving you hard time.' He replied, realizing his frustration was pushing him over the edge. 'You're one of the few people who respect me, in spite of all the shame I put myself through out there. Don't worry, I won't let how I feel interfere in my job anymore.'

He got it off his chest and she listened, conquered.

'Please... Don't! You, Carlos, deserve no shame! And you never embarrassed, or disappointed me. No one less than a real man could do what you did. I know I never told you this before, but…' She passed one hand in her hair, uneasily. 'You are the person I respect the most in the gang. Just like I respect Gat, I swear…'

Those words were all he could take; Carlos quickly grabbed her face with both hands, kissing her affectionately. No sooner than he realized what he was doing, he stopped.

'I'm sorry.' He said, embarrassed. 'Wow, this keeps getting better. I swore to you I would never do this again, it's...'

She said nothing but stepped closer, gently touching the bandage his neck, the silent reminder of what he was ready to sacrifice for her. Then let her hand go up to his face and caressed his cheek, his jaw, and the side of his lips, with so much kindness and passion that it was hard to believe someone like her was capable of this.

Carlos shock didn't last long, heart pumping fast, he held her head closer and pressed his lips on hers, slipping his tongue inside her mouth.

Her hands slid under his shirt, pressing his muscles.

He broke the kiss to pull her closer to his body with both arms, placing them tightly at her waist as his face sunk on her neck.

'Boss…!' He breathed.

She inhaled deeply, and her hands grasped his skin harder. She soon felt a little spasm of happiness contract his torso. Carlos kept breathing heavily, unable to speak.

'I thought about you the whole day.' She confessed.

'Look at me…' He requested, pulling her chin up. His gaze locked on The Boss's. He searched for one of her hands and put it over his chest, making her feel his heart pumping under her fingers.

He was helplessly smiling, in his gigantic eyes there was all the caring, all the loyal love in the world…

In the Boss's heart, a burning sensation was spreading. Something was coming into light, strongly.

Carlos kept smiling as he saw the changes operating in her expression.

He slowly approached his lips to hers, invading her mouth again with his tongue. As she parted her lips more, allowing him more space, he eagerly sucked her saliva.

Their tongues played with each other tenderly, but Carlos' cock started to harden. He knew how much he was ready for her.

She smiled as she felt his body reacting.

The Boss broke their kiss to give him ascending kisses from his well defined torso 'till the neck, softly but deeply, with that violent adoration that characterized all of her affections.

His hands sunk on her hair…

His lips searched for her mouth as a tell tale sound of a zipper arrived to her ears.

He suddenly pulled her skirt out of the way and entered her, without breaking their kiss.

'I love you, you hear that?' He hissed, quickly squashing his lips on hers.

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'Wow. That was...' She stated when she recovered.

'I am just making it up to you for not been the perfect Lieutenant.' Carlos joked, raising his head, his full lips flushed.

'Hmmm...Now I see that you're quite the perv behind an angel face.' She chuckled.

He feigned indignation, and kissed her collarbone softly, as his breath started to get back to normal:

'I dunno what you're talking about girl. I am quite the gentleman. I even apologize to people after throwing them off a car.'

Both laughed at this, going from torrid lovers to best friends with the biggest of ease.

They got interrupted though, by noises of tires. According to the multiple roaring sounds, more than one car was parking at the entrance of the dorm.

'Time to get out of here?' He asked.

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First Lemon scene on this fic: Again, sorry for the grammar mistakes. If you feel like it, please leave a review, as a member or as a guest. It always makes my day! Thanx for reading, 'till next chapter folks!

Chapter Text

As Carlos walked down the worn wood stairs that lead to the hotel, some Saints were starting to wake up and repopulate the underground again. He muttered a distracted greet back to those that crossed his way, but didn't want to mingle with the crowd at the main hall and simply headed to his room. In his head, there was only one will. To be alone and think about the events of that morning.

Kicking off his shoes and removing his beanie, he let his body fall lazily on the bed.

He should have been tired, but sleeping felt like miles away.

He stared at the ceiling, pulling his hair backwards with both hands. He felt the need to say it out loud so he could make it real, even if that expanding feeling in his chest would leave no doubt about it:

'The Boss and I had sex. The Boss and I had sex...!' He repeated, suddenly wishing to hug the whole world. The Saint turned his head to the side and his eyes caught on the mirror of the old vanity that used to belong to the hotel.

The man on the reflection smiled back at him in ecstatic disbelief. Something definitely changed about this guy...

Yup, that dude wasn't so lame, he thought. How could he be? Last night the whole gang celebrated his courage; today, the woman he loved gave in to his feelings.

He let out a satisfied sight and then closed his eyes. The images of their passionate encounter started to rush in his mind's eye. His senses could still feel her touch, the scent of her hair; echoes of her voice purring on his ear...

It was about five when he realized that he must've fall asleep.

He stretched and moved towards the signs of life in the hotel, crossing Pierce on his way there. His friend was surprised at the quiet but fulfilled vibe that emanated from Carlos, even if he tried not to show it so much.

'Hey. Blowing those Brotherhood dust labs put you in a good mood, huh? The Boss must be satisfied.'

Carlos nodded and made an ironic joke no one but himself could understand right now:

'It surely did, Pierce. And she is very satisfied, I think.'

He left Pierce and reached the hall, where five other guys and chicks were gathering around the table. Carlos could see their attentive faces listening to The Boss and Shaundi, who discussed the final details of an important drug deal at the airport. He slowly approached the two lady gangsters, who had their backs turned to him, occupied with their exchange.

He was a bit nervous. What if, in spite of everything, The Boss' fear of commitment struck again, causing her to have a change of heart?

Acting casual, he leant on the table, pretending to show interest in what was been said. His hand was right next to hers, hidden by the table, so Carlos slid it closer and discreetly grabbed her little finger with his.

He felt his heart accelerating, The Boss didn't stop talking but curled her pinky around his thumb in response. An almost imperceptible, but unmistakable gesture of affection.

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If Gat didn't know The Boss so well he would have guessed that she was strange and even avoiding him since the party.

Today was another example. Toby gave the Saints contact to his cousin (because he needed help to get a van loaded with drugs pass the cops), and she asked Shaundi for back up. Gat knew about The Boss' competence, enough to be sure that she didn't even need help, but still...

Shaundi could be amazing when it came to tactics, but when the matter was fighting she wasn't the best person to watch your back. Besides, her and Gat blowing shit up together was almost a tradition.

The truth is that The Boss feared that Gat would guess the reason of her weird behavior. After all he was canny, and knew her by heart.

At first she even felt like telling him everything like she always did, but nope. Not this time. What happened in that dorm was... Different. She couldn't just spill it casually while sipping a drink like last time. She was still too confused about it to tell him. He was her best friend but he was also a dude, and not a very sensitive one. This was girl talk. Too bad Eesh wasn't here now... She could really use the advice of a 'normal' person right now.

As the group returned, he watched The Boss toss a small pile of bills on the table of her study, then walk from side to side, worryingly .

'Is everything ok Boss?' He asked, readjusting his glasses to look at her.

'Oh, fine, fine. I'm just a tad worried about the Brotherhood.' She mumbled, feeling bad for bullshiting him straight like this. Gat then just remembered something, and said:

'Last night you told me something about seeing someone differently, what was that about?'

'Did I? I guess I was high, don't quite remember…'

'Oh, no you were not. Cut the crap. This is the second time this week I have to say this, you're getting me worried.'

'Fuck off Gat, I can handle myself.'

She mumbled something that he couldn't understand in Spanish, and he proceeded:

'Wait. Were you talking about someone of our gang?'

Gat's eyes went from side to side, like if he was analyzing a lot of things in his head and trying to put the pieces of a puzzle together.

The Boss whispered with exasperation saying the first thing that came to her head before he had time to think too much:

'It's Pierce! Don't tell anyone, it's Pierce, Gat.'

His face was illuminated, finally having an answer.

'He is a nice guy, but a bit too full of himself, don't you think?'

'Yeah I know, I hate it but it turns me on at the same time. It is just a little crush.'

'Oh, that's why you didn't want to go to the party last night, because he was there. And… That is why you're always making fun of him.' Gat poked his finger at her philosophically.

'Exactly. We women are like this. The more we laugh at someone, the more we are into them.'

'I don't think all women are like this but… Well, you've always been hard to figure. Shit Boss. It's not easy to have a crush on someone you work with. I kind of understand why you're so strange lately.'

'As longs as this is between you and I Johnny. I would be much more comfortable if we never talked about this again.'

'Of course.' He nodded friendly, and to change the subject pointed at the hall where some boys were pilling their new stash of Loa Dust. ' I am going to help them driving this to Tobias', but will need an extra hand. Did you see Carlos?'

That name made some flashbacks pop wildly in her mind.

'Carlos?! Oh. No I haven't. I mean, I did a while ago, at the dorm.' She stuttered.

'Oh, ok.'

'Right. I'm off to bed now. Talk to you tomorrow man.' She patted his shoulder in a hurry and turned without looking back, making her way inside.

Shaundi, the silent witness to this conversation was quick to guess what was going on.

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The Boss closed the door, tossing her coat over the armchair.

She hid her face in her hands in shame, giving herself an involuntary review concerning her performance while lying to her best friend.

'Did I just tell Johnny that I had a crush on Pierce?'

Ok, could have been worst, Pierce was intelligent and kind of good looking but he was... Pierce.

As she took a few steps towards the bathroom to remove her make up, she heard the worn floor crack at the weight of someone's feet.

The late night invader raised his hands a bit and laughed lowly at the gun that was now pointed at his face, jesting:

'Are you going to kill me Boss?'

She scowled, not finding it so cute as she recognized him in time:

'Carlos, you nuts? Are you trying to get shot?'

'No.' He leant, and stole a quick kiss. 'I just came to see you.'

'Yeah. Wise move getting into my room like this. Did anyone see you?' She inquired.

'No ma'am. Can I put my arms down now?' She saw that he was slightly making fun of her, though his eyes had that affectionate flame that had the power to crumble any resistance.

'At ease, soldier.' She smiled, rolling her eyes indulgently and stepping closer to him. As soon as his arms went down, they found their way around her waist.

'So, what did you do all day?' He asked in his accented voice.

'Drug deal.' She replied, taking a cigarette from the pocket of her shorts. 'You?'

'Just hanging around. There's something I've been wanting to ask you...'

She raised her both eyebrows, amused at his shy tone, bidding him to continue.

'How come you changed your mind about me after that day at the Frat?'

She lit the cig, bringing it up to his mouth. He took a drag but coughed it up right after.

'What happened there?'

'I don't really smoke.'

'You don't?'

'Long story. Come on, you didn't answer my question.' He hit her gently in the arm.

She gave him a playfully look and blew the smoke up in the air, while pretending to be searching her memory.

She had to laugh affectionately at the worried look he was now displaying and brushed her thumb against his lower lip.

'That day at the frat crib you showed me another part of you, but then, there was our last confrontation with the Samedi.' She said, her voice becoming lower, caressing his face tenderly with one hand . 'When you came back for me, I was like, wow, that's a man. You were a real hero for me that day.'

Listening to this tough woman talk about him in such a way made that feeling in his chest blow up and grow a million times. He grabbed the hand she used to caress him and kissed her palm, holding it there. 'Can you say that again?'

She chuckled and got her face very close to his, articulating every word.

'Carlos Mendoza, you're my hero... You like that?'

He reclined to her boson, displaying a deep feeling of belonging.

'Mucho...*'

'Te he extranado…**' She said as her cheek touched his head.

He turned it to one side, observing her silently.

It didn't take much for The Boss to understand what was going on. She put of her cig and started to undo the little buttons of her shirt. Carlos sat on the bed as if to tell her to keep going, while he devoured her with his eyes.

She turned to remove her purple denim shorts and underwear, feeling his gaze on her bare skin.

She turned to find out that he abandoned his spot and was now inches away from her.

He got closer and pulled a bit on her wrists, making The Boss part her arms to enjoy the full sight of her breasts and undressed body for the first time.

She almost never dressed herself in a revealing way, yet he couldn't find a single flaw in that hourglass silhouette.

Carlos took one retreating step and his eyes followed her every curve in admiration, stopping shamelessly on the most erotic parts.

Funny enough, she had to look away shyly for a second.

He bit his lip in delight at her reaction and turned her face to him again. Her cheeks were flushed and hot on his hand.

'I didn't know you could be like this preciosa.' He teased, his heart melting even more. 'Are you the shy one now? Hmm…?' He poked her face with his nose, and his voice got deeper, with a mix of love and lust. 'If you're blushing now, imagine if I do this then…'

He lowered his head and took one of nipples entirely in his mouth.

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I sat on the bed and pulled his body closer, shaking. He placed himself between my legs and I felt a huge rush of excitement, anticipating what would follow. Then, just like that, involuntarily smiled at him, for I couldn't believe that I could feel that way or that something so good could happen to me.

He gave me a deep look in return, kissing each of my hands lovingly, and started to remove his own clothing.

I leant to help him with the task. He stood still to make it easier for me as he simply enjoyed watching me do.

While I removed his shirt and started to pull his pants down, his hand played around my hip, his palms then slid up and down my butt.

My lips craved for his skin, I kissed his chest, his stomach, allowing my tongue enjoy his taste.

My hand brushed over the bump on his boxers, massaging it.

It caused him to shiver and interrupt me by urgently placing his hands on my shoulder, pushing down and climbing on top of me, hungrily kissing me all over: On the arms, breasts and thighs.

His breath was very quick then; I could tell that he was having a hard time to control himself and laid back on the bed.

He bit and sucked on my bottom lip, his voice completely blurred:

'Say you missed me again.'

I repeated the words but the end of the sentence was cut as I let out a moan, he slid himself entirely inside me as I spoke. I closed my eyes, it felt incredibly good.

He didn't waste any time and started to move back and forth, nesting his head between my neck and left shoulder, his low groans increasing along with the deepness of each trust.

He was a nice, gentle guy at first. But as our passion got wilder I felt all the intensity of a desire that you would never guess a man as shy as him could express.

He pounded quickly and deep into me, holding my hips in place, it almost hurt, but eventually all my senses converged to a huge wave of pleasure.

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The Boss woke up after a brief hour of sleep, and looked around to recognize her whereabouts.

She felt her head leaning against something warm, and turned her gaze in that direction.

Carlos was asleep, one arm up while lying on his back, head slightly turned to the side, against his hand. A bit of the sun's emerging light caught on the classical lines of his face. He looked even more innocent now than when he was awake, if that was at all possible. Most of his bared torso was emerging from the sheets, she could hear the sound of his regular breath, and couldn't help but grin at his sight, feeling a lot of affection for him.

However, it was time to go. He had to leave her room before it was morning and the corridors would be full of passing Saints.

'Carlos...' She whispered, getting closer. He only moved a bit, still immersed in sleep, so she brought one hand to his hair and stroke it. He mumbled a bit, not really waking up, so she pressed a long kiss on his cheek, calling him again and even more sweetly now. 'Carlos? I'm sorry, but you have to go before the gang is around.'

He took one second to integrate in reality again, but as soon as he understood that she was right next, and caressing him so lovingly, he smiled broadly and pulled her under his weight.

'Hi.' He said, slowly opening his eyes to find hers as she brushed her fingers on his face.

'Hi sweetie.'

He leant and she felt all the warmth of his lips against hers.

'What time is it?'

'Must be six.'

'It's ok. Go out through the other side to towards the balcony, no one will see you cuz the guys always use the big stairs when they come this way.'

She sat on the edge of the bed, looking for her clothes on the floor as a caressing hand rubbed her back and he watched her do. Then he reached for his pants too and when both were ready, headed to the door, hand in hand while been as silent as possible.

She opened the door cautiously and poked her head outside, checking both sides.

It was clear. They exchanged one last kiss before Carlos sneaked out, caring his shoes on his hand to avoid making any noise.

He made his way through the part of the hotel that lead to Old Stilwater. But instead of proceeding to his room, turned again, passing by the statue's hall this time and going up to the street.

He didn't have a full night of sleep in days, but wasn't tired.

And, sleeping right now felt like blasphemy, like wasting a great time to feel alive...

He started to walk around the neighborhood, not caring where to.

Why the early morning is so magical even if you are dead tired from the lack of sleep, yet everything feels so right because you had a great time the night before? I'm pretty sure you all had that feeling or will have it one day, maybe while returning from a party, watching the sky slowly get brighter, feeling a bit cold from the morning perhaps. That exclusiveness of those hours when no one is up yet, and you feel that the streets belong to you, or maybe that everything is quietly connecting to your happiness.

Carlos crossed his arms as the wind made him shiver a bit, thinking that he should have got a coat before leaving, but he was feeling too good to care.

What changed? He didn't know. Everything was the same, except, much better.

He would never have guessed that he could be at that place, after the rashness of the last few years.

But there he was.

'So this is like being fucking happy feels like?'

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* So much...

** I've missed you.

Yeah lemons, because life is dull without them :)

Thanks to everyone who's reading and helping with their advice and support, specially HanajimaFB :3

Chapter Text

The Saints had the totality of the drug market at Frat Row, and were starting to make a name at other territories as well. With The Ronin out of the way, in no time they would be prominent in that field, if it wasn't for the fact that The Samedi still held their fame for a reason.

That's the thing with gangs, of you don't expand and cripple any concurrents, you're quickly out of business. In that purpose most orders that came from The Boss that season usually concerned fucking with other gang's production. It started with the burning of their drug farm, and now, Shaundi just gave them a heads up about more drug labs at the Elysian Fields.

After lunchtime, we'll find Gat and his best friend gladly tasting the joys of pyromania, making huge trailers jump several meters in the air at each explosion they caused.

Even if Gat had already ringing in his ears from all the mess they did, he still could make the difference between it and the ring tone coming from the Boss' pocket, and warned her between two shots.

A warm sensation started to spread from her chest as she retrieved the object, reading the name displayed on the screen.

She withdrew from the scene to answer it, taking shelter behind a van:

'Good morning...'

The place was noisy but one could still tell the voice on the other side was more than happy:

'Holla querida. Did you sleep well?'

She found herself smiling at the loving vibe emanating from each word.

'Very well. But, not a lot...' She said playfully.

Carlos chuckled a bit.

A loud burst coming from Johnny's Kurkov interrupted briefly the conversation.

'Sorry. Gat just killed a Samedi.'

'Where are you?'

'Popping some junk at the fields.'

'Listen, do you think we can meet today? Wanna grab a bite?'

'I'd love to.'

'Cool. Meet me at the Centennial Beach tonight?'

'Great. I'll see you there.'

'Boss?'

'Yup?'

'Miss you. Take care.'

'Later Papi.'

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'Knock knock.' Shaundi poked her head at the semi-opened door of the room and found The Boss coming out of the shower in her robe.

'I'm busy, not now…! Oh, Shaundi. Thank God.' She whispered in relief. 'Give me five to get ready and meet me at Tee N Ay!'

Shaundi was so excited to hear the news she made her way to the bar really fast, in no time she reached Club that was indeed a few blocks away from the Crib.

'Hey you look great.' She took sit next to The Boss, who was wearing a very feminine dress, diving her hand in the complementary bowl of cheetos.

The Boss wasted no time to order and grasp the first bottle of wine, drinking it directly without even waiting for the bartender to give her a glass.

'Why so nervous, what happened? Oh, let me guess you and...'

'...What happened? Well Shaundi, I will tell you what happened: I fucked Carlos, that is what happened! No! that is not accurate.' She corrected, chuckling nervously. 'I actually made love to Carlos.'

'Oh my, I am glad I am sitting.' Shaundi said, shocked. She smelled smoke alright, but it turned out to be the burning of Rome.

The Samedi lieutenant drew a long breath, regaining herself. 'You actually said…!'

'...Don't repeat it!'

'Ok, ok! Don't freak out. I knew you liked him. You were just too dumb to realize it. It was a matter of time if you ask me…'

'...What?!'

'Hey, I saw it, if he screws up you're never mad at him, but with me and Pierce… Not that I am complaining, but you never reacted the same. Besides, what am I saying? I never screw up, now Pierce, that's another thing.'

'Not helping.'

'Listen, I know we don't know each other for that long.' Shaundi. 'But you can trust me for that. She grabbed The Boss' arm to stop her from playing nervously with the butterfly knife she always had in her pocked and continued.

'It will be ok. How are you feeling?'

The Boss rested her head on the counter and sighed heavily.

'To be honest… I feel fucking great. And I want it to keep going.'

'Oh. With Max, was it like this?'

'It was great but no, not the same.'

'Wow. Carlos might not be the best lieutenant, but I guess when it comes to sex, he makes up for it.' Shaundi teased.

The Boss nodded, a small laugh rocking her body.

'What are you going to do now? I mean, what will you guys do? Does Gat know about it?'

'No, but Gat is the least of my worries.'

'I see.' Shaundi could foresee the complications of announcing this romance for the gang. 'Keep it quiet for now. See where it goes. Well, knowing how Carlos feels about you it's easy to know where he wants it to go.'

'You right, it's been only a few months since I put this crew together, it will have to wait a little. At least 'till I figured this out.'

'While you do, we should order another round. Barry!'

'Just one, 'cause, uh, I have to be be somewhere in an hour. Make that another bottle for me and a mojito to my friend'

'Dressed like that? Don't have to ask what you're gonna do and who's gonna join you.'

'I was right to hire you for your logic skills.' The Boss joked as she passed one arm friendly around Shaundi's shoulder, more at ease now and clearly in a good mood. 'Going to the ladies, don't drink all my wine dear.'

As she left, Shaundi thought, shaking her head:

'Boss I've never seen you like this. Play it cool all you wish, you're falling your ass in love with our little Carlos.'

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Shaundi didn't know, but to be honest in the last few minutes, I wasn't feeling well. My head was turning and I felt like throwing up.

I went to the bathroom to splatter my face in cold water, thinking it was because of alcohol even if I just had a bottle of wine (which for me was like drinking water). While I was washing my hands, I checked my face in the mirror, and was disturbed to see how freaking pale it was.

I left the ladies room and tried to make my way back to Shaundi, but my legs failed me and I stumbled, falling heavily on the red carpet.

I felt hands pulling me up. Some guy I've never seen before was next to me, caring me by the waist.

'Oh, honey, you had too much to drink again...'

He turned to a stripper that tried to help too and said, smiling:

'Thank you. Don't worry, I'm her husband. I'll take her home.'

I tried to protest and push him away, shot him if needed, but it was like my body was frozen.

He pulled me along to the street and disarmed me, shoving me in the back of a car waiting outside.

When I woke up I was cuffed to a pipe, at what seemed to be a garage. He and other three unknown men were smoking and talking to each other.

I pushed my mind to think clearly, reacting to the narcotic effect so I could figure what the hell was going on. I expected a push back from the part of The Samedi, but none of them was wearing green.

They were cops, it was safe to assume by looking at their ways.

The guy from the nightclub was at the phone, surely with someone who had the power to muffle whatever result this situation could have; I knew it wasn't Troy, he would never allow such things and specially against a member of our gang. 'Till today I don't know for sure who was on the other side of that line, but you don't have to be a genius to suspect a recurring name, one that had the power to magically erase dirty deeds in this city when it interested him: Dane Vogel.

'We have a green light boys.' The guy said, as he hung up.

He was a middle aged, short man, leaning on a crutch. He seemed more than happy as he stopped in front of me.

'Now you can't hide behind your men.'

I looked at the three other guys encircling him meaningfully, and answered with a chuckle:

'Something we don't have in common.'

'Do you know who I am?'

'Do I give a shit?' I sighed.

'I am the guy that, thanks to you bitch, can't stand on my left leg anymore.'

Now, really. Did he expect me to do what? Apologize for it?

'Why don't you untie me and then I'll see what I can do about the right one.'

He was infuriated by this answer and slapped me straight, but I saw clear disappointment in his face.

Maybe he expected me to try and plead for my life. Fuck him.

He kept beating me up, and soon his friends came to second his blows and bringing him a nightstick to facilitate the task.

For the first time since I became prominent in the Saints, must confess, thought that it would be it.

Not because I was afraid of what they could do to me, but because I couldn't see a single, slight possibility of getting out of this situation. I wasn't afraid of death itself as I was on the end of impunity and getting my way through everything. This was it, I was dying like that? But I was only getting started.

Of course the idea of been at the mercy of some bastards who hated my guts and were eager to watch me suffer was not comforting. But I never really cared for physical pain that much. I waited for those dicks to knock me unconscious, sooner or later.

Once in a while he stopped to taunt me, maybe expecting to break me up so he could impress his men.

Finally, he hit me so hard on the stomach that it took my breath away.

I dunno if you ever been hit real hard on the stomach, but it's one of the most uncomfortable places you can receive a 'chingadaza'*. Besides the pain, you also feel something like a strong cramp and you have a hard time to breath. Fuck, this one was done by an expert arm.

With this the real pain started to get to me and what was left of my sense of humor disappeared, I was beginning to be really fucking mad, mind starting to cloud in impotent rage.

'Go get a cock implant, hijueputa.' I could barely curse, my breath running out.

'You know for a two dime gangster whore you are really pretty.' He said. 'I'm sure you won't mind that we have a little fun first. And of course, since you are a filthy hisp we'll wash later, after we've dumped your body somewhere.'

He ripped my dress, letting me only with a bra and for an awful moment I actually felt more exposed than ever. My hands did an involuntary movement to free themselves from the pipe, a sudden instinct to cover myself. However I wasn't going to give them any more satisfaction than they already had and did my best not to show how much it bothered me.

I understood immediately he wanted to do a little peep show of testosterone to impress his buddies.

Next, he grabbed my chin so hard I had to squint my eyes in pain and kissed my mouth brutally.

I bit it, hard, so much that I could feel his blood squirting like fuck in my mouth, part of his tongue gone for good. But hey, what is a tongue compared to a leg, right? I just spat all the blood in his face as he stumbled back with a painful scream.

The reaction to this was brutal but I preferred the physical pain, that I was used to, to the other thing. Whatever they wanted to do with my unconscious body was fine, but not while I was there to feel it.

Soon the punches and kicks were pilling and overlapping, so much I could no longer make a difference between one blow and another.

I didn't make any effort to dodge, hoping to black out soon.

At some point I was kicked hard on the head, it wasn't enough to make me black out, yet I knew I couldn't afford it a second time.

One of the guys was careless enough to get too close to me, and even if my state wasn't the best, my rage was such I still had the strength to dig my teeth at his exposed throat.

As he contorted like a crazy, I found most satisfying to feel that I've seared something, something that I hoped it was an artery. If I was to go, oh I wasn't going to go alone.

They separated me from their friend, leaving in a hurry to take care of him as he screamed that he didn't want to die and kept spreading blood all over.

When I found myself alone I started to pull down with my wrists, maybe the old pipe would come off the wall and I could free myself. I knew that at least one of them would be back in no time.

Except, the effort made me black out...

But who knows why, my time wasn't there yet.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

No one suspected, but another well known cop was very close, in hiding.

Max was parked outside the garage inside the delivery truck he used whenever he didn't want to draw attention. For weeks now he was on the trail of those guys, that much to his regret, were his co-workers.

Gambling, prostitution, drug trafficking. It was hard to name an illegal activity in the city whose branches didn't converge to at least one of them. Everyone at the PD knew who they were, but nothing was officially done.

Yet, true to his nature, Max couldn't keep away from trouble for long. He decided to conduct a private investigation with Troy's agreement.

He saw their car leaving the garage hastily. Looked like one of the guys were hurt. He waited until the car turned around the corner to get out of the truck and carefully made his way inside, pistol in hand.

Max gazed around to see if he could find something that would give away the reason for the Stilwater's finest to visit and leave that place in such a hurry.

After he made sure that there was no one left in the spot, he began looking for clues. It seemed like they used that place to remove pieces to what he assumed, were stolen cars. A detour to the small office at the mezzanine showed that he wasted his trip this time. Nothing was kept here, not even receipts or registers whatsoever.

He was about to leave, but then took notice of something that he didn't see on his way in: Large stains of blood on the ground. He followed the bloody trail, only to stop in surprise at the sight of someone hanging from a pipe. It was a woman, head down showing that she was dead or at least unconscious. He hurried to see if there was still something that could be done, and as he quickly placed a hand on the girl's neck to see if there was any pulsation, she groaned and rose her head.

Max's astonishment got even bigger. He recognized his ex almost immediately, even if her face had blood all over it.

'Bastards!' He spat in fury, hands shaking as he touched her head carefully.

'For a guy my age I saw about 200 people's share of violence in a lifetime. It's hard to get impressed after you witnessed first handed a guy being burned alive while having his body trapped on tires, for instance. But this was something I could never get used to: Seeing women get beaten up. Specially if I had a bond to them. Maybe it reminded me of my mother been hit by my father, or maybe it was just because it was too unfair. Of course this girl didn't fit the helpless category, I knew what she was capable of. They probably had a debt to call with her. Still, I didn't give a damn. I felt really bad for her. I knew that I was never shy when it came to pilling stupid deeds, but of course, dating a gang leader was in any case close to the top of the pyramid. And now, like always, found myself involved into another mess.' He sighed, now thinking of John's crew: 'When you see your colleagues cuff someone that was supposed to be dealt with by the law to a pipe, beat them up for kicks and call it justice, well, you just know that you ended up in the wrong place again.'

He looked around, his gaze falling on the object of his choice. With the help of a plier found in a tool box, he opened the thin chain that linked the cuffs, and The Boss slid to the floor.

Max approached, his anger raising the more he was aware of their brutality.

She had a split lip and a cut on her brow, trails of dry blood down her face. but he knew this stuff would heal pretty quickly. What startled him was the fact she was spiting a bit too much blood for his liking.

'Are you ok?'

She opened her eyes groggily and glanced at Max, recognizing him, and smiled in relief.

'Max... Good to see you...' She started, speaking very slowly. 'Don't give me that look. Hey. I'm alright.'

He knew this was worst than she made it look.

'Well, you don't look all right. What is it? You can't breath?'

She shook her head and whispered: 'I can, but my side fucking hurts.'

'Ok don't speak. I will help you getting out of here.' He stated, and tried to keep her as comfortable as possible, taking off his jacket and putting it over her shoulders. Max also removed his tie and placed it under her head.

'Thanks.'

'I knew the crew enough to waste my time asking her who helped him to do this. There she was, lying face down on the floor, spiting blood on the cuff of her shirt, and judging by the look of it, they wanted to do a bit more than just beat her up. I had enough contact with these assholes to know it was more about sick pleasure than just doing physical damage. People like them get high on inflicting humiliation, even more when the target is a female men like them would never get.

That was is it I thought. I'm getting her out of here. For once I was right on time, it was now or never. Of course it was easier said than done. They would be back soon, probably eager to resume their little game, I had to be quick.'

He caressed her hair with one compassionate hand and asked:

'If make a call, you think your crew will believe me and pick you up?'

She coughed and spit something on the floor.

'Piece of a back tooth.' She explained. 'Call Johnny. He will come.' And she gave him a number.

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All the crew was out looking for the Boss. A full night and half a day went by since Shaundi entered the hideout in exasperation to warn Gat that she was missing.

So far no news.

In the main room a few lieutenants were, Tobias and his wife were there too.

He and Laura were old friends of the gang. Toby had a pilot's license and in case they needed a chopper, he decided to camp there and be available.

Shaundi just got off the phone after calling her giant list of exes –for the fourth time. No one had the slightest idea. It was like she was kidnapped in that strip club by some sort of alien lord and taken away from earth.

Pierce was sitting down with his notebook, elbow in the table and a hand in his forehead, concentrated. His expression wasn't very hopeful, and clearly he was only double checking something just to be sure.

'Fuck. If she left 'find my Iphone' activated, it would help. It's offline.'

Carlos was out to Chinatown with his crew. He heard something about an unusual Samedi activity and almost out of his mind with worry, was hoping it had something to do with her.

Gat was walking from side to side under the winged statue, unable to hide his worry as well.

Since Eesh died he tended to expect the worst, and now couldn't shake away the feeling that he wouldn't see his best friend again.

He was sleep deprived but charged with an insane amount of energy. He also tried everything he could, killing a couple of people in the process, but no success. He hated this inactivity, the others could take the waiting. He couldn't.

He saw Carlos arriving with two guys from his crew, looking exhausted. One look at them was enough to understand it was a wasted trip.

'It was only a drug deal. We put the screws on some Samedi. Nada. I don't think it was them.' He said, and sat at the tip of the couch, not knowing what else to try.

'This is insane.' Pierce shut his notebook down. 'No sign of her, anywhere.'

'Well maybe it's because you aren't looking enough!' He roared back. 'If you would try something more efficient than you dollhouse tactics shit, we would at least have a hint of where she is!'

'Easy Gat!' He answered.'I'm also worrying my ass since the Boss went missing! Shaundi was here with me, ask her how I was looking for every fucking thing I could.'

'I just can't stand here sitting on my ass while someone might be killing her right is it, you bitches stay here and do what you can. I'm going to look for her. ' He said reaching for his rifle at the table and loading his pockets with grenades.

'Johnny, where would you go if you also don't...' Shaundi said, placing herself at the other side of the table and reaching out to him.

'... will think of something, will question the entire two gangs if needed, I'm not going to wait until all we can find is her body!' He waved the gun in the air, heading to the exit.

'I'm going with you.' Gat heard a voice behind him and turned to see who it was.

'Good...lets go, Carlos.'

But as the two made a few steps forward, he heard something ringing.

His own cellphone.

Everybody froze. He reached for it in his pocket.

'Unknown number.' He looked up to Shaundi, Pierce and Tobias who all got up their seats. 'Hello?'

There was a man's voice on the other side of the line. He sounded like he was in a hurry.

'Johnny? It's Max. She is with me at a garage in Black Botton. Listen, I need you to send someone to pick her up... quickly?'

He covered the mic and said 'It's Max.' Then passed walking between the others that formed a circle around him silently, trying to listen to the conversation.

Gat didn't seem convinced, in spite of everything he knew about Max, he couldn't bring himself to fully trust someone who played both sides. Too close to what Troy did.

'Oh yeah Payne? And how do I know that you are not bullshiting me? For all I care this could be a trap.'

There was a brief silence on the other side and he heard Max's reply:

'You don't. You have to trust me. If she doesn't leave right now...'

Johnny stopped and posed his rifle on the floor, listening.

'...The guys are going to kill her. If you don't want to come I will move her by myself but it will be harder... She will need medical care and I know you can get it faster than I could. I can't call an ambulance. The first place they'll look for her is at the hospital.'

Gat pounded hard on the wall, a bit of cement falling off and landing on his shoes, but he didn't seem to mind the pain of hitting his knuckles into solid concrete.

'How bad is she hurt? Who did this? Those pricks have no idea of what i will do to...'

Max cut him short before he lost all his temper.

'Look, she will be alright she is a tough girl. Just come.'

Johnny nodded to himself, ready to take action. He didn't need any more convincing.

'I'm there in a few minutes. You better, oh, you better be right about that.' He groaned.

'I will be waiting for you at the back, come as fast as possible.'

Gat hung up and without waiting went straight for the door:

'Toby, Carlos you're with me. Shaundi and Pierce, get our ambulance ready and park it next to the Stilwater Caves. I will call you.'

'Wait, what the hell is...!' Pierce started, but they were gone already.

He didn't waste any time and hurried up to the parking, Shaundi just behind him.

'Man.' He complained to Shaundi as he seated on the driver's seat. 'Why do they never tell us what the fuck is going on around here?'

looked at him and shrugged helplessly, fastening her seat belt. 'Pff.. I dunno. Why do I always have to ride with you?'

'Don't get it started...'

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Max walked away from the public phone, satisfied with the results of that call.

He waited at the small building's entrance, his eyes on the parking lot paying attention to the slightest car around. He drew a smoke, reminding Gat's tone when he learned that the Boss was injured.

'They were going to pay. This Johnny was no fool, nor ordinary criminal. This was not just an insult to his gang. They messed with his best friend. I knew my actions would result in some sort of sinister vendetta and also knew that street gangs never make it look pretty. But who was I to judge them? At that moment I think I would have done it myself if I could. They had it coming. Maybe this was nature's way of getting rid of the huge pile of shit that was accumulating in this district. Or maybe I came to a point where I can't tell right from wrong anymore. Now I was about to let the number one in our 'Wanted' list go free, but did I feel any remorse? I don't think so.'

What a night.

No sign of the Saints so far.

'Tough gal' He thought, and couldn't help but feel tenderness and a lot of respect for her as he watched the smoke rise in the air.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Meanwhile three Saints were inside a Magma. It was going at such a high speed it looked like it was flying, instead of actually touching the asphalt. Gat drove insanely through the streets, though as quietly as possible, no power-sliding, no hitting anything. Toby and Carlos were holding up tight at every turn, hands also steady on their guns.

'So do you think this could be a trap?' Toby asked, pushing smoke quickly through a blunt he just took from his pants and lit in a hurry.

'Each person has his own way of dealing with a crisis' Johnny thought, asking himself if he've seen that dude sober. Toby was like this, lifted all the time but reliable. It was easy to forgive him for his eventual side effects.

'I don't think so.' Carlos answered firmly at the back seat. Gat shifted his attention to him now. This kid hardly shared his opinions, probably because he was too unsure of himself to do so, this time though he seemed less shy. Maybe he was too worried to be minding anything else. Actually during this whole crisis he was the Lieutenant who showed more initiative and perseverance. He knew how much Carlos was devoted to the boss, maybe more than everyone else.

'I kind of trust the guy's word, what do you think?' He asked Johnny.

They had to jump a little in their seats, shortly interrupted by Tobias, who was now screaming out of nowhere (this is some fast shit he is smoking!) 'I'M GONNA KILL THE BITCH WHO DID THAT TO THE BOSS!'

They just ignored him as usual, but Carlos had the precaution to close his window to avoid getting high too from the smoke he was blowing outside. Despite of the tension of the situation, both men had to smile for a second.

'As a matter of fact' Johnny started while bypassing a truck by the oncoming lane. 'I kind of do too. By the time he was working with the Boss she told me he was a very nice guy. If she can trust a cop after Troy, she must have her reasons.'

'Really?' Carlos said, sounding disappointed.

The young man frowned. Back then he always wished to know more about the Boss' relationship with this guy. Now, he didn't want to hear any of it. Did they hit it off while working together? He suspected before, now he was pretty sure. Did he still like her? Probably at least a bit, judging by his behavior today. He couldn't help feeling jealous, hating the fact that that intimidating man was near to the woman he now considered his.

Well, the guy was helping her, she was alive and that was more important than anything now...

When they reached the place, Gat slowed down and cautiously entered the parking.

The guys spotted a tall guy in some grey pants and a white shirt casually smoking outside.

It was Max.

As soon as he saw them in the car, he threw his cigarette away and made a sign meaning they could enter. After checking if no one else was coming he let them pass first and half closed the door behind them. The three were still suspicious, but they just followed Max through the building, hands ready on their guns.

Almost running, Max reached a corridor and then descending stairs. He finally opened a steel door, and room full of carcasses of cars appeared before their eyes.

Someone was lying on the floor, carefully covered with a leather jacket.

'Boss! 'Johnny called.

Carlos was hurried to her side, down on his knees to check on her.

He muttered 'Gracias' while he quickly kissed the big cross hanging on his chest.

'No, don't pick her up like this.' Max guessed what he was about to do, and warned. 'Put her left arm over your shoulder.'

Tobias stepped in to help and both easily raised The Boss, one on each side. This drew an involuntary yelp of pain from her, making them stop.

'Its ok boys, I'm straight. Let's move.' She whispered.

They nodded and brought her all the way up , Johnny behind keeping a guard and Max charging in front in case they would bump into someone. Luckily no one showed up and they could easily reach the parking again. From there they put her on the back seat of the Magma, carefully lying down with her head on Carlos legs.

'Easy. Easy. There you go.' Gat closed the car's door and Tobias got inside too, waiting for him to drive them back.

Before going inside, The Saints' second in command quickly grabbed Max's shirt by the shoulder, then tapped repeatedly on it to remark his gratitude.

'Thank you Max.' Gat lowered his head to face him and he could see his eyes coming out behind the glasses. His voice was low, but strong 'If you ever need something... Now, tomorrow, or in 30 years, the Saints are ready to take your orders.'

Max tapped him back once on the arm.

'No problem. Just take good care of her and try to keep out of trouble.'

Gat nodded and entered the car hastily.

'Give me news when you're better.' Max said to The Boss, knocking his hand on then car's back window.

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Before they have done the whole itinerary in 3 minutes or so. Now that Gat was driving much slower it took them more than ten just to get close to the caves, where the other guys were waiting with an ambulance fully equipped to treat the Boss' wounds. He did it on purpose so she wouldn't feel too uncomfortable back there. Even though he seemed quite calm, a storm was happening in his mind. If the Boss didn't need him now, he would probably be breaking or killing something just to try to placate his fury until the time would come and he could put his hands on the people responsible for her beating. And when he did –he smiled with savage delight, picturing what he would inflict on them- Oh, that would be a whole other story.

'You're as good as dead.' He promised.

He would plan something sweet for those scumbags, oh, yes he would...

On the back seat, Carlos was holding her carefully.

He whispered in her ear, discreetly placing a kiss on her hair, holding her hand more tightly. 'I was so worried about you... Thank God you're ok baby. Let me take care of you now.'

But very unpleasant feelings were also fighting inside him. At first he was minding more being of her assistance and staying at her side.

But in the back of his mind, beyond the relief that she was ok, something was working up.

He saw the way she was hurt, her dress rip open, even if Max thoughtfully covered it up with his jacket. He couldn't stop guessing what exactly they did to her, and how they did it. Every single bruise on her skin or rip in her clothes would open a painful possibility in his mind.

He thought that even if 50 years passed by he still wouldn't be able to remember it without feeling this in his chest. It was something new, a pure and concentrated hatred he never thought it could be felt. This thing was a creature on its on, it had no control, reason could do nothing against it...

He had a tremendous, sudden will to kill everyone who dared to see or touch her like this : those cops, Max, Johnny and Tobias, like it was their fault too, and got intoxicated with the childish thought that if he did so it would erase all that happened.

'I'm going to get the bastards who did this. I swear carino.' He whispered again, trying to sound as calm as he could, but his voice was strangled with the rage of his thoughts.

She pressed her hand more into his and smiled, sensing that he was the one that needed comfort the most now.

They were interrupted by Gat's voice:

'Yo man, put it off. You just had one.'

'It's not for me it's for the Boss.' He and Tobias were talking in the front and the last one passed something to her.

'I guarantee it will make your pain fade until the pain killers get there, my little sweetie.' The hippie said, incarnating the concerned uncle.

'Yeah!' She nodded with delight and approval, speaking more than she should. 'You are always a man with a plan Toby... Max gave me pills.' She accepted the blunt and sucked in the smoke.'I wonder what will happen when I mix...'

Gat growled disapprovingly, looking back on the rear view mirror at the sight of the Boss: All fucked up and smoking a doobie while having coughed blood 5 minutes ago.

'Not that I have never seen you do stupid stuff before... ' He stated sarcastically. 'But don't you think this is a bad idea?'

'Ah, Fuck it!' She said waving her hand forward, and kept smoking.

Gat knew her enough to don't bother pushing it further. It was useless. The Boss was used doing things at her will, and would tell any opposition to back off in a less than pretty way.

To his surprise he saw Carlos take the hemp away from her hand and throw it off the window.

'Are you serious Boss?' Carlos scowled.

Gat made a face, impressed , as he thought: 'What is going on with this kid lately?'

He saw the Boss growl in annoyance, but do nothing more than to fall back to her place quietly.

He knew she had the habit of being more easygoing with Carlos than with any other Lieutenant, but this was unusual.

And despite the fact he just witnessed this less than usual fact, he would never be prepared to what followed on the mirror.

He saw distinctively Carlos pushing her hair away and whispering something to her ear in a way that was a tad too intimate.

And the Boss... Well, she would pull closer and finally kiss his lower lip lightly with the side of her mouth that wasn't hurt.

He couldn't watch further because Toby was screaming something to him, but he had seen enough.

'Loooooook out !'

'Wow!'

His attention snapped back to the road and he turned the wheel just in time to avoid a Cheetah Bus, loaded with old people, now screaming behind them.

'WTF? WTF?! What the hell is happening here?! Yeah cuz either I am high from Tobias' shit or... The Boss and Carlos... ' -And the tiny, initial thought became epic- '... Are fucking doing it.'

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* Slang for strong hit.

Chapter Text

'Did I see it right? The Boss... Carlos... Holy... Fucking... Crap.'

Gat kept driving out of instinct, positively stunned, his expression blank while he chewed on his signature straw, trying to process the news.

The man just had too much information on the same day.

He was forced to leave this catatonic state for a while as he sensed that the car approached the parking lot of the underground caves.

Shaundi hurried to open the door, and let out a cry of indignation when she saw in what shape The Boss was delivered.

With the help of the lieutenants, The Boss was transferred to a gurney and Gat, Carlos and Pierce entered in the back of ambulance with her.

'David is here to take a look at you Boss.' Pierce said and a young and handsome man approached.

David was the Saint's 'official' doctor, he studied medicine and was the one that fixed and stitched the gang when things got too complicated to be handled at home. Most importantly, he was discreet and accepted to do it for the a reasonable price (to pay his studies he said, but in reality most of the payment was made in Loa).

'So Boss, what happened? Who did this to you?'

'I am asking myself the same question Pierce.'

'This looks like revenge.' Carlos said, his accent laced with rage.

'I know why. But I don't know who?' She muttered, her gaze lost on the ceiling as she tortured her mind further into an answer.

What was the link between the Saints and the man with the crutch? Where did she see that middle age dude before, those unpleasant bright eyes he had?

The Boss sighed in frustration, pissed that she had nothing.

But then sudden light came to her spirit, some memories flashing and starting to make sense.

A tight, dark alley and brick walls.

Then what? A car.

But it was a big one, more like a...

Limo.

A fucking limo. He was the one with Hector's murderer, that night when she and Carlos went to Freckle Bitch's together.

The guy survived the shot then?

She frowned, turning to David and shifting his attention from examining a swollen spot on her arm:

'I need you to make a fake admission at the hospital for me, tonight if possible. And also check for anyone who's been admitted with a slashed neck.'

'Why is that Boss?' Gat wondered.

'I wounded one of them. He has nowhere to go but there. And as for the others, I dunno, maybe they will get desperate. Maybe they'll see no other choice but to come and finish the service if they think I am there. It's definitely worth a shot.'

'We set them up.' Johnny picked up.

She nodded, glancing at him and Pierce. 'I am counting on you to put some crew on that room, 24/7.'

'My pleasure.' Gat said, delighted at the thought of putting his hands on those pricks sooner than he expected.

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'Got anything for me Gat?'

'Yes, I did everything like you said. We've got muscle at the hospital. Now, turns out the person you were looking for is dead. Pierce.'

The Ronin Lieutenant stepped up.

'Well?' She asked.

'I sent everything to you. Check your mail.'

The Boss blinked in annoyance showing that she waited for another kind of answer. Pierce always liked to make everything too complicated, or too sophisticated.

'I never use it. What the fuck is this a movie?'

'Shit...I...'

Carlos and Johnny looked at each other and pulled a face. Less two points for Pierce. The Boss was clueless when the matter was technology.

She rolled her eyes and picked the phone on the nightstand to access her mail box , and started to read it:

'Double your penis size at Image as Designed, gain up to six inch...!'

'What! No. Not this one!' Pierce with exasperation from behind her shoulder. 'This is spam.'

'Ah. Patrick Lambert. Worked for the PD since 1998, yes that's him. I recognize the picture. Hmm... What else? Ok... Died from blood loss hours after he was admitted.'

'Well, that's only three more to go.' Carlos said. 'What about The Boss' exams?'

'We should call her Wolverine from now on.' Gat joked, looking for something else in his papers . 'Doc said the ribs are ok but don't ask me how, call it a miracle or ridiculous good luck.'

'Phew. That's great.' Carlos looked at her, relaxing a little.

'Can't say the same thing about the arm and wrist.' He put an X ray over the lamp on the nightstand showing Carlos the exact place where the bone was broken.

'Ah, it seems small. How long 'till I am back on track?' The Boss inquired.

'Eight weeks.'

'Fuck you say?! Eight fucking weeks? The Samedi won't wait that long. Eight days at most!'

'Sorry, those are bones we're talking about, once in a blue moon they'll heal before five weeks. I've been there.'

'No shit buddy. I remember you running around and killing people even when you had that electronic leg...'

'Robot.' He corrected. 'You're gonna have to rest that ass in bed for now. And... Someone's gonna have to keep an eye on you, bring you food and help you shower.'

'Huh, I can do that.' Carlos was quick to offer.

Gat turned his head towards him, and then to The Boss who cleared her throat, and didn't seem to be against this idea at all:

'Ok, Shaundi ain't strong enough to pick me up anyway.'

'Shocking.'Johnny thought, ironically.

'Let's go Pierce.'

'Good Job Gat. Thanks.' She said.

'You welcome.'

Gat rose from the chair to leave and The Boss looked at Pierce. He watched her silently and waited for his share of praise. She waved the phone in the air and gave him her feedback:

'Couldn't you just've printed that shit?'

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Johnny left the two lovebirds alone to find the much deserved comfort of his bed.

He felt a little guilty at the fact that his mind, at the present moment, was not on revenge plans.

As soon as he saw that his friend was ok and the adrenaline lowered, it started to rush somewhere else.

That scene on the rear view mirror.

He didn't know why, but he wasn't ok with it. It was the first time she didn't share a secret with him. And there was something else...

Pride?

Not that he wanted to be with The Boss, no. They've always been too friends for that, besides, and he wasn't even close to be over Eesh.

But the fact that an attractive woman like her decided to date someone of the gang without even considering him as an option, kind of stung his ego.

Honestly. No G in the gang was half the bad ass he was.

If Eesh was here she would be saying: 'Now come on. I know you are happy for them deep down. I didn't know a tough guy like you could be this insecure.'

Before he realized what he was doing, he got up, opened the closet door and stuffed his chest in front the mirror to feel his huge pectorals.

The feminine voice spoke again in his head, mockingly:

'Yeah, yeah. You still have it. Look at yourself Johnny. This ego thing is ridiculous.'

Was it Aisha's echo or his own judgement?

He shook his head, a bit embarrassed at his own reflection, glad that it was the sole witness of that awkward moment.

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'Watch out for your arm. Here, put your hand over my shoulder.'

Carlos was standing face to face with The Boss under the shower, naked; a purple towel hung from his shoulders.

He was trying to undress her as carefully as possible, but the feminine complexity of the buttons on her dress were way beyond him.

With this helpless expression, he was putting a lot of pressure on himself to be of service.

'Fuck. Did that hurt?' He mumbled, trying to force the stuck zipper open with his teeth.

He pulled with both hands and it gave in, but so clumsily that the Boss's body bent forward.

'Ouch.'

'I am sorry! Jesus!'

He kept apologizing over and over, his hands were shaking.

'It's ok. Calm down. What is happening to you?' She said, posing a hand on his face to reassure him.

'I dunno...' He replied, not wanting to go into that now.

The thing was that every time he looked at that torn dress and the bruises on her body, he felt like killing someone...

Confused, lost in this excruciating feeling, he faced The Boss.

There wasn't any need for words. They simply confounded each other in a tight embrace.

All the unspoken weight of that awful day expressed itself in an urgent need for comfort.

They touched each other's convulsively, like they needed to make sure that the other was really there.

'I don't know what I would do if something happened to you.'

'Carlito...Hey. I am fine sweetheart.'

He sighed heavily again, getting a hold of himself and carefully broke their hug.

Carlos turned and opened the knob, testing the temperature of the water in his hand.

He cupped it and let the warm water in his palm run down her back.

'Ah... This feels great.'

Nothing could happen tonight, but both looked at each other and shared an accomplice smile, the memories from the other time obviously been evoked in their minds.

The Boss gave his body a long lusty glance, from his wide shoulders to his arms, he had just the right amount of muscles.

He could feel her checking him out and almost flushed, flattered.

Her eyes followed her way down his torso only to find that his body was reacting already.

'It's just from being so close to you like this, it will calm down after a while.' He explained softly.

'I don't know how can anyone find me attractive all beaten up like this.'

He blinked seriously. 'Don't be silly...'

After they were done with the bath and dry, he dressed her and helped her to bed.

'Can you take my gun and put it here on the nightstand?'

'You always sleep with it?' Carlos asked curiously.

'Since I was a baby gangster...' She explained.

'Reminds me a have a lot to learn.'

'When I am off this bed I will show you... If you are willing to teach me a few other things too.' She said provocatively.

'Hmm. I can't wait.' He leaned closer. 'Besides, I still owe my girlfriend a real first date.'

The Boss jumped at that word immediately.

'Come on.' Carlos teased, amused. 'We made love, that makes us something dontcha think?' He put an international pun.

'I am gonna kill that bitch Shaundi.' She frowned in the meaning of making him backing up a little.

But to her surprise, Carlos didn't even blink, showing that he wasn't going to take no as an answer. Apparently, the man was growing more confident by the day, but in that specific case, she wasn't sure if it was a good thing.

'I think that I've created a monster...' She thought, a bit amused too, feeling a small sparkle of excitement.

She didn't answer and by doing so gave Carlos the best sign that she was ok with it.

He smiled and laid by her side, covering them with a sheet and The Boss yawned, starting to lose the battle against sleep.

The switch of the lamp on the nightstand was flicked and the room fell into total darkness.

She couldn't see him anymore but could feel the skin his arm against hers, so she moved closer to rest her head over it.

'Carlos?'

'Tell me something.'

'What?' He passed his arm behind her head, inviting her to his chest.

'I dunno, something about you.' Her voice was sleepy but she still wanted to hear his.

'Es una nina!'* He replied fondly. 'Do you want me to tell you a bedtime story?'

'Yup.' She snuggled closer.

He kissed her neck softly, and started telling The Boss about his life, delighted with her interest.

The few but happy memories he had in his homeland, the death of his parents. The playground days at Sunnyalle Gardens, while watching his brother do minor drug deals for a living. Then, his first job at a pizzeria when he was 16, followed by another one at Rusty's Needles after he was fired for stealing. The day that Hector got home, bruised but proud from his canonization, convincing him that now their lives took a new turn. After, followed the hopeful period where money was not such a huge problem anymore, and they could afford this small, but decent apartment at the row.

He didn't go further, sensing that she was on the edge of sleep now.

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*You're such a little girl (I hope the use of the Spanish language is accurate).

Long time to update this one, I know... Next update will be MUCH quicker!

This was a transitional chapter and kind of hard to write (I guess one can tell I was a bit lost lol). XD

This subplot grew bigger than I expected and pages added up, so what was supposed to be a small passage became three whole chapters. Oops.

I can't wait to get back to the Samedi plot, a lot of surprises will come oooooooooooooh...

Chapter Text

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Half an hour passed in the most absolute silence, until Carlos heard a low knock on the door.

He opened to find Gat, followed by Bruno and Tobias.

'How is she?'

'Better I guess. Sleeping. Where you guys going?' He came to the light of the hall and noticed the weapons on their hands.

'We're going to go to Freckle Bitch's and then, kill the cunts who messed with The Boss. Someone was kind enough to hint us where they were, Pierce's crew have them.'

Carlos didn't answer and simply turned to his best friend:

'Bruno, stay with her. I am coming with you guys.'

Gat looked up, in a mix of respect and annoyance. This kid didn't wait for an order, he just said 'I'm coming' as a statement and not a question, like what he, Gat, had to say, wouldn't stop him from doing anything.

He thought of leaving him out of this just to teach him that he was talking to his superior and second in command. But from the determination in his tone he could tell all the concern Carlos had for The Boss. Still, he knew he had to give him a hard time for a while now, at least until The Boss reassured him that Carlos treated her right. This was his best friend they were talking about, not some random chick.

'Am I fucking high or are you swapping our roles? Listening to you speak I could get the wrong idea and think that you're in charge.'

Carlos blinked, recognizing that he crossed a line:

'I'm sorry. But I still ask permission to come.'

Both men stared at each other silently, the tension filling the air. Gat's gaze was just as canny as it was intimidating, keeping your head up while those eyes were on you was not an easy task...

'Since you're more concerned about The Boss than anyone... 'He emphasized the end of the sentence looking attentively at him, and Carlos blushed slightly. 'You can come.'

Tobias walked to the car in front of them, probably too blunted to get the be-mols of this conversation, even if they weren't exactly subtle...

Gat and Carlos walked side to side in silence for a few steps, but then Johnny stopped and spoke lowly:

'You better watch out for what you're doing.'

'Doing what?'

Gat brought his head closer.

'Don't bullshit me. I know about you two messing around. She is my ace, don't screw up. Like I always say, this is just a friendly advice. Yet...'

'Can I speak freely, man to man?'

'You can.' He nodded, slightly amused at the thought of been challenged by a newb. 'I give you five minutes to explain yourself, just forget who I am.'

Carlos started, slightly stuttering at the beginning but still firm:

'Good. Listen Gat, I would probably say, this is none of your business. But since you seem to need to know, there you go: We're not messing around. We are together. I love The Boss. And she loves me.'

'Is that so? Why is this not happening in the opening then?' He said, unconvinced, the fact that Carlos had the pretension to believe the Boss reciprocated his feelings angering him more than he expected.

'I dunno and I don't care. She may be your friend, but now, she is also my girl.'

Gat chuckled, in spite of being more annoyed than ever. This kid had balls, he had to give him that. Not a lot of guys were crazy enough to talk to him in such a tone.

'If you say so.' He replied coldly to show he was neither convinced nor impressed by this speech.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Hours later Gat drove Carlos back to the Hideout. Everything was settled, the bodies dumped in front of the PD as a warning. Tomorrow Stilwater's Gazette would have quite the headlines.

'Sure you don't want to go to company of Gyros?' Gat asked, parking te car. 'For me the night isn't over, I still want to get to the waiter they bribed at Tee N Ay.'

The other Saint shook his head negatively, amazed at Gat's expression. He seemed calm, refreshed, like he did what had to be done and now was at leisure of enjoying his night.

But Carlos, wasn't.

He sensed that he crossed a line during their little excursion.

He said goodbye to Gat and rushed inside to replace Bruno, not wanting and specially, not wishing to think about what they just did. But as he sat on the chair his exhausted mind and body started to play tricks on him. The worst parts of their excursion played themselves in his mind's eye:

'I didn't know she was your friend. I didn't know... ' The helpless man stated over and over, wiping. At his side, his cop colleague was dead over a pool of blood. 'We saw her tattoo after. He wanted revenge for what she did but he didn't tell us she was a Saint!'

Gat walked from side to side in front of him, this guy was repeating himself and wasting his time. He kicked the chair, interrupting all the winning and the man instinctively shrunk in his seat.

'That's not what I asked you. '

'Don't make it harder on you.' Tobias warned, finishing his blunt. 'We're not here fool around.'

'John told us to do our worst! But we just hit her!'

'Just?! You piece of shit!' Carlos saw a replay of his own arm swinging in the air and banging a shotgun on the guy's face one, two, three times.

Johnny was furious at the cop's answer too, but displayed nothing more than one profound and slow nod. That was one of the most scary things about him, you could never tell what the guy was really thinking, he was always a surprise, and often a gory one.

And then... God...

He was pretty sure that not even Hector could be proud of what he did.

'Yes Carlos this is guilt you're feeling.'

He saw himself losing his temper again, but Johnny put one halting hand on his chest:

'Don't. You almost broke his jaw already. I want this fucker to still be able to scream. Let's do it.'

Carlos squinted his eyes. The last part was almost blank, missing in his mind. He didn't have an image, just sounds, or better, screams and machine working...

'Holy shit. Oh man this is gross...! Just shoot the guy.' Toby's voice said, sounding disgusted.

He opened his eyes. His heart was filled with remorse but right in front of him was The Boss, and her swollen face resting over the pillow. The same rage pumped in his veins.

'I would do it again. Forgive me God, I would do it all again !'

Carlos kept watching his sweetheart sleep.

He caught himself wondering what regular life could be like, if it was possible to live without this chaos that threatened the ones you loved, every single day, or without this new weight in his heart that he suspected he would have to carry forever.

What would it be like if he and The Boss had met under different circumstances?

Would this whole day never happen?

He've always lived somewhat under the law, so all he could do was imagine a blurred and imprecise picture.

Whatever it was, however, made him smile and shone like a ray of sun in the suffocating darkness of that night.

He felt a strong, irresistible will to grab a few clothes, some cash, the woman and break free of this life before it was too late and one of them met the same fate Hector did.

Carlos couldn't believe his own thoughts.

This gang used to be sacred to him, sacred like that golden cross on his chest.

But for the first time, he wished The Saints never existed.

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Oh, I am excited about the next chapters. :)

Thanx for reading you crazy, wonderful people :3

I am going to do some MASSIVE editing soon, chapter 1, 2 and 3 will probably go through changes.

Chapter Text

'Stilwater woke up in shock this morning: The triturated bodies of two men have been found inside a trash compactor right in front of the city's PD. They were later identified as Mark Calder and Phillip Perez by their police badges.

It's unknown whether the two deceased policemen were dead or alive while the engine went off, as it is unclear to the Stilwater Gazette who could be responsible for this gruesome attack.

Outraged citizens gathered since this morning at the crime's scene in protest, asking for authorities to put an end to this violence.

Present to pay his respects, Director of Special Projects Dane Vogel from Ultor Company declared:

"We have nothing but respect for those heroes, they died fighting crime to protect us and our families. Ultor is looking forward to see the whole city go under renovation, clean each neighborhood from gang activity so this madness can stop."

So far everything leads to believe that one of the city's gangs is indeed at the origin of the two murders, but the Chief of Police Troy Bradshaw refused to comment on the case.'

Max tossed the newspaper at the center table of his living room and unscrewed his bottle of whiskey again. Next to it, there was a copy of a demission letter: He was no longer a cop.

He passed one hand on his forehead and leant back on the couch to think, but his worries were interrupted as the cellphone started to vibrate insistingly inside his pocket.

'Troy again.' He muttered and pressed the upper button to turn it off.

Did his ex Chief suspected that he was the one to tell The Saints where those scum cops were hiding after attacking The Boss?

Opening my eyes after a night high on meds was like watching a movie screen slowly opening from the middle, then trying to focus. The sides of my vision were blurred, but after some effort I understood that I was lying on my back and in bed, staring at the decrepit ceiling of my room and that I was back in The Hideout, safe.

I vaguely recalled escaping death the night before. Some images overlapped in my mind's eye: Old cars in an empty garage, me and Shaundi at TNA, Carlos telling me about his childhood in the dark and Max's worried face. The chronology of events was messed in my brain, but I was so tired, my body ached so much, that I didn't bother to make an effort to figure stuff out.

I tried to move, cautiously, since every fucking bit of me ached and let out a faint groan from a stabbing feeling in my sides.

At that moment the mattress moved by itself under my weight, calling my attention to the fact that I wasn't alone.

A hand slowly touched my head in a caressing motion as a familiar voice said:

'Morning...'

And without expectation, a complete, unknown happiness took control of my body, relaxing it. I felt calm, at home...

Without making a sound, Carlos waited patiently on the armchair for The Boss to wake up. He got up a couple of hours before, but even if some sleep made him feel better, he had no will to move from where he was.

Anguished, he simply sat there watching over her sleep.

He had one elbow on the arm of the chair, his hand was holding his head while it covered his eyes. At that moment he was analyzing everything that happened those last days:

'God. Look how you are, baby. Look how I am, look what I did last night. You wouldn't understand, would you. This is no big deal for you, or for Gat. Boss, this is no way of living. What kind of life you had before to be able to put up with it? You know where this is going to end, don't you. Why you don't care if you die at all? I do. I fucking love you. What if I convinced you to drop all this shit? Would you do it, would leave with me?'

A faint groan coming from the bed made Carlos suddenly drop his thoughts and sit straight on the armchair.

She started to move and so he went sit next to her, striking her hair as if to let her know he was there, watching over her all this time and that he loved her very much.

'Morning…'

She smiled immediately and he came closer to kiss her.

'How are you feeling?' He asked.

She pressed her mouth on his ear, and muttered after a long silence:

'Happy.'

Her voice was shaking, indicating unmistakable emotion.

Carlos didn't answer, but it would be clear to anyone watching, by the way that his tired expression changed, that he was over himself with joy.

The back of his hand slid down the side The Boss' face, tenderly, as a silent thanks for making him feel that way, then pressed his forehead on hers, staying like this for a long time. At the contact of his girl, he forgot his remorse and all worries that were eating him a moment before. It all faded. He simply enjoyed that blessed moment, forgetting everything else.

At the door, Gat's silhouette appeared unnoticed. He wanted to see how The Boss was and pushed the door slowly in case she was sleeping, but as soon as he saw what was going on he stopped and hesitated for a second.

Then, his expression lightened, his lips let out the tiniest smirk and he left shaking his head. He closed the door silently so he wouldn't disturb them.

On an apartment across town, we'll see Max getting himself ready to go out.

Next to the door, he placed a cardboard box full of the things he was supposed to give back to the PD. Files, his old uniform and some weapons.

He finished getting dressed and got the keys from his car. But as he approached the door he stopped in front of the box, kneeled down and hesitated. He slipped a cig in his lips to help him think, confronted to a dilemma:

'Why bother lying to yourself that's it is the right thing to do, you know you won't do it.'

He stretched his arm and recovered two things from the box: One was an USB card that he stuck on the pocket of his vest, the second was a file.

He stared longly at the cover that read: 'Criminal record - Valentina S. - Filiation: Third Street Saints.'

In that file was the result of his hard work and months of digging at Troy's request: Turns out his true mission, as he would be informed after (much to his disgust), was not to team with the Saints to get rid of The Ronin, but to gather info on their Leader.

He should've been proud of his investigating skills, for he did what no one could: Uncover most of The Boss' past. He was the sole person in that country to know so much about the mysterious criminal. But he wasn't.

Max quickly flipped through it, admiring his job painfully as the uncompleted phrases, and fragments of a story that hurt him, passed along with the pages :

'Under weight.'

'State suggested severe child neglect.'

'Possible sexual abuse.'

'Flew before being taken by an agent of Child Protection.'

'Arrested in Tihuana for stealing at a supermarket.'

'Confirmation that this illegal immigrant and the Leader of The Saints are the same person.'

He closed it. No. He could never pass such info ahead. She was going to keep killing innocents, she deserved to be behind bars, but never; he thought. Never by his hands.

He searched for his Zippo but before lighting the cig Max made up his mind and led the flame towards the file, incinerating it.

'Mind giving me a ride downtown?' Johnny opened the door and took a sit next to the driver.

'Nope. I left The Boss with Shaundi so I could pass at the church, we have plenty of time.' Carlos started the car as he replied. 'Samedi?'

'Yeah. Now that The Boss is out, I have to work for two. Hardly slept last night.'

'Me too.'

'You look dead tired, man.'

'These last two days haven't been easy on me, you can guess why.'

'I do. By the way, thanks for taking care of The Boss.'

'Oh, Shut up.' Carlos muttered, in a bad mood. 'Of course I would take care of her.'

Gat bobbed his head, impressed again at the change of Carlos' attitude. 'Now you're telling me to shut up.' He said, thought more of a statement than a threat.

'Sorry. I have a lot going on right now.'

'I see. Shall we call Pierce and get drunk?'

Carlos blinked, confused. Gat was hard to figure! One day he would be giving you tons of shit for dating his best friend, the next he would be offering you his friendship.

'I thought you wanted to kill me right now.'

'Seeing how you care about her made me change my mind for most of it. But I still am keeping an eye on you.'

'Fine.' Carlos consented with a shrug. 'Well, I could definitely use a drink, if we don't take long.'

They took the car downtown and stopped at a flower shop, as Carlos wanted to pay his 'manda' and give thanks for finding The Boss.

Gat, much to his surprise, handled him 30 dollars and asked for him to offer a bouquet on Eesh's name too.

Carlos' car stopped at The Saints Row church, the former HQ of The Saints on the old days. The place brought a million memories to Johnny, but he decided to stay in the car. He wasn't really religious or even sure that a higher power existed. Besides, he felt that a person like him had nothing to do at a church. It was best to let someone like Carlos handle the PR between him and God, or whatever.

Gat watched Carlos' tired silhouette enter the church and kept thinking to himself that he was right all along about this kid not being gang material. Johnny felt bad for him, he knew that Carlos was a man of faith and that what he did yesterday was hurting on is conscience. Who could imagine that he was the one to come up with the idea for their death?

It didn't take long for the Lieutenant to go out though, and soon the two were seated enjoying their much deserved beers after the exhausting days of worry.

'I didn't know you were catholic?' Carlos asked curiously.

'I ain't. But Eesh was.' Johnny explained quietly, as solemnly as his casual ways allowed.

'Oh... Right.' Carlos replied respectfully, remembering that even a dude like Johnny Gat had his dark moments in the gang. He thanked goodness in his mind that his love was still alive, but at the same time something like panic got associated with this idea, like Gat's loss could be a foreshadowing of his own in the future.

It was like Johnny read his mind when, with a sip, he said:

'You better get used to what happened last night. It's all part of what we do. It's always gonna be like that. Honestly, don't keep thinking about it or it will drive you nuts.'

'I wish I could.' Carlos sighed, and almost emptied his entire beer in one drag.

He didn't know Gat so well, but right now he looked so open and friendly that he decided to speak frankly to him. Besides he felt that if someone could understand what he was going through more than anyone else, it was him.

'Can I pop a personal question?'

Gat scratched his chin, took another sip and replied:

'Unless it's about the color of my underwear, shoot.'

Carlos chuckled and joked back:

'I hate to say that we all know you only have purple ones. You hang them to dry plain in sight before breakfast where everyone can see. It takes my hunger away every time.'

'What can I say? Nuts don't go with cereals.' Gat laughed, but soon regained seriousness. 'So?'

'Have you ever thought of dropping your flags and going straight?'

'Once. Because of Eesh.'

'What happened?'

'About four months ago, we thought she was pregnant.' Johnny confided, with unsettling sincerity. His eyes got lost on the wall of the bar, with all the sadness of a life that could have been. 'We decided that we were going to do this for real, no more break ups. I was going to tell The Boss, but it turned out to be a false alarm. Of course we had another huge fight after that, I can't remember why. It was our thing. On and off and on again.' He continued with found nostalgia. 'So we dropped the idea. But yes, I would've done it even if I think I would've made a terrible father.'

'You wouldn't.' Carlos considered. 'If you were willing to give up everything else for your family.'

Gat nodded, pleased with that thought, but then his canny stare went from the wall straight into Carlos' big eyes, assuming:

'And you're asking this because of The Boss.'

'Not gonna lie. I am.' Carlos ordered another beer.

'You pretty serious about her then?'

The Lieutenant gave Johnny a tired look and opened his bottle at edge of the table.

'Of course. I think I can give her a better life.'

'She ain't gonna do it. The Boss would never leave The Saints, Carlos.'

Carlos lowered his head, vanquished. He had to agree with Gat, against his will.

But he would never expect the following words would leave Johnny's lips:

'That being said… If she ever agreed… You have my blessing.'

Carlos stood there with his mouth hanging, surprised as fuck. Inside him, a new ray of hope was lit. Before he could recover from his shock Johnny already regained his laid back ways and rose from the chair:

'I am going to take a piss. It's on you, man.'

'No problem.' He replied, a small twitch finally on his lips.

He had just reached for his wallet and tossed a couple of bills at the table, when his cellphone started to ring.

He retrieved it from his pocket, watching the screen: 'Unknown number. This is odd.' He thought. 'Hello?'

'Is this Carlos Mendoza?'

'Who the hell is this?'

'Max.'

Oh. It was Payne. The Boss's ex and savior.

That guy really knew how to ruin a good time, didn't he?

Carlos got his mouth closer to where the mic of the phone was and almost yelled:

'How the fuck did you get this number?! '

On the other side Max showed that he too, had a bad day:

'Am I to explain you that cops are not as dumb as you think or just sit back and put up with your shit as usual?'

Carlos rubbed the back of his neck fiercely as he tried to get his temper under control. After all, this man saved his girlfriend:

'Ok. Fine... What is it?'

'I have something important to discuss, I need to come to the Hideout.'

'You should call Johnny, he is the one in charge for now.'

'I couldn't reach him. So lucky me, I'll have to deal with you. Just to let you know I am on my way.'

The other side cut it and Carlos released his anger by sending the phone to the ground.

'Asshole.'

Max climbed down the stairs of the main hall escorted by a gangster girl carrying a machine gun. Taking it by her constant smile, she probably remembered him from the party. He apologized for been late, and said that the reason was a black kitten that he rescued and now held between his fingers.

'Sorry, I found this little guy lost upstairs.' He explained as he stroke the animal's back with that usual mix of rough charisma and tenderness.

The Saint girl picked up the cat and started to laugh at the little pussy cat's effort to catch the fingers that Max playfully wiggled above it, her body language suggesting that she wouldn't mind if the visitor took care of her pussy as well.

At a corner, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, Carlos rolled his eyes, more annoyed than ever. 'Why don't you take your dime store hero act somewhere else, Don Juan.'

He decided it was best to swallow his hard feelings for now and raised an arm politely inviting their guest to the adjoint room, so they could speak without being disturbed.

The two entered what used to be the game room of the hotel, it had two big old couches and a pool table.

Carlos took a sit and made an effort to be friendly:

'Sit down, please. Drink?'

'Sure, why not? It's not like I am on duty.' Max accepted the whiskey that was passed to him.

'So...I'm listening.'

Max took an USB card from the pocket of his vest and tossed it to Carlos.

'The man who planned the attack on your Boss is a close friend of Dane Vogel. I caught some security camera footage that puts them both in some deep shit. He even owns a Penthouse loft in the Suburbs under Ultor's payroll.'

'Thanks for the heads up.' Carlos said, looking at the USB card. 'And…'

There was a moment of awkward silence where he simply watched his fingers turn the object, then he continued.

'…Thanks for what you did for The Boss last night. I… I Appreciate.'

'No problem. I also came here because wanted to ask you to take care of her. She told me you guys are close.'

'We are.'

'As close as she and Gat I suppose, so…'

'As in close as in a relationship way.' Carlos answered.

'Oh... You two... Ah, I see.'

And with that... Max felt that he had little else to do there.

'I definitely came to the right person then.' He chuckled in resignation. 'Well, my mission here is done.' He swallowed the last drops of his drink and rose.

'Guys please escort Max out.'

'Hmm, actually, I would like to see her. Got some stuff to discuss in private, if possible.'

At that, Carlos halted. The almost friendly expression on his face vanished while two little wrinkles formed in the space between his forehead and his nose.

For him, the word 'private' had the power to ruin everything, and splatter crap all over their white flag. Gratitude, mind and manners, it all vanished. All that he could see in the cop now was a rival. He wasn't far from the truth, since his instincts read Payne beyond his words: That guy still had feelings for The Boss.

'I will show you to her room, we can talk there.' He replied rashly, his expression closed.

Max body language switched immediately, starting to become pissed too. So he had a small laugh and replied sarcastically:

'I didn't see that one coming.'

'Excuse me…?!' Carlos raised his voice and stared back aggressively.

'I remember how you tend to follow her around like a puppy!' Max yelled back.

At that Carlos pushed Max, who reciprocated and pushed him even harder.

Attracted by the loud voices, Gat stepped in followed by Pierce and a few more Saints. He got between them and tried to avoid a fight.

'You think I will be told what to do by some little punk who's still in his diapers?' Max taunted over Gat's shoulder.

'Forgot to mention your adult diapers, the motherfucking geriatric ones!' Carlos kicked him from under their human barrier and things went out of control.

Gat was pushed to one side, unable to retain them any longer.

Max passed his arm over Carlos' neck and put him under a head lock.

The two stumbled from left to right, fighting for control.

'Even an old man can beat the shit out of you when he's pissed!' Max replied, his drunken arm had the steadiness of steel.

Carlos lost no time and punched Max on the stomach, the second started to let go unable to hold the pain.

The Lieutenant gasped without air, but it didn't take the power away from his arms. He kept punching so strongly his opponent was forced to loose the grip.

With this Carlos freed his head, ready to retaliate and 'whooch!', spat right on Max's face.

Disgusted, the cop passed his fingers on his face to clean it, staring at the sticky line attached to it.

'WHA…!' He roared as his expression twisted with rage.

He jumped towards Carlos and aimed his elbow on his face, but Carlos dodged and grasped his arm, twisting it.

Like too enraged wolves, they struggled alternating grips, each side desperate for dominance.

Their eyes were frozen on one another, dangerously mixing intimidation and bestial anger. The Saint crew, by then, had formed a loud circle around the men.

The ex-cop saw a brief moment of hesitation from The Saint and tried to submit him into another head lock, but Carlos used all the strength of his body, turned and pushed him to the nearest wall.

The ex-Sargent's hit his ribs painfully on the bricks and stumbled, falling on his knees.

In a moment of defeat, he raised a hand significantly so he could get up, surprised with the strength of his opponent.

Carlos could have used this moment to attack him, but merely circled around proudly waiting for Payne to get up.

He did so and Carlos came closer to kick him, but Max dodged and punched him straight on the chin. His body swung backwards, his mouth sprayed blood. But he was too pissed to even give a shit.

He merely missed a few steps, and whipped his mouth without breaking eye contact.

'Did it hurt, little boy?' Max asked him, panting.

Carlos swallowed the rage caused by these words. In one fraction of second he noticed Max's guard was open from the left, so he turned and threw a powerful spin kick.

Max still had the time to see it coming and hold Carlos' leg, but he couldn't deflect it properly: The foot hit him. He fell backwards taking The Saint with him.

'Ouch!'

Carlos landed on his stomach, unpleasantly crushed under Max's weight. His chin hit the ground, cracking the skin open.

Quickly, Max grabbed Carlos by the shirt and started punching his face while his own nosebleed rained over the Lieutenant.

Carlos endured the punches and covered his face with his fists.

Max, on his side, seemed to be running out of steam. His punches slowed down until a big kick coming from bellow hit his stomach.

On the limit of his endurance, Carlos saw what happened next through a veil:

His adversary hugged his gut in pain, bent over himself and slid to one side.

A wild feeling of achievement washed through of his body, he let his head fall back with a victorious and absolutely exhausted sight.

Upside down, he could see the crowd going wild.

Carlos told me he wanted to bring me something bigger from the flower store, but he said that if he did people would notice.

My attention was on the improvised vase (an empty whiskey bottle) over the nightstand.

A white rose, most of it's petals still not open.

I held it in my hand and the sweetest feeling I've know so far flooded my heart.

It hit me, that I was loved.

I had so much love during those days, probably more than I've ever had in all my life.

To think I was so afraid of it, that I wanted to run... But hey, how could I deserve something so wonderful as this?

My focus shifted as I felt something wet falling over the little treasure in my hands, and quickly opened my eyes to see what it was.

The flower now had little pearls of water all over it. In disbelief, I touched my cheeks and found out that they were wet too.

My body was shaking, but it was a wonderful sensation. I closed my eyes fiercely, wanting to make that moment last as long as possible.

But since nothing that it's too good it's bound to last for long, seconds later the sound of voices and things clashing coming from the main hall interrupted my magic moment.

I could hear, over the muffled sound of broken furniture, something like crowd cheering. Several voices yelling together:

'Carlos! Carlos! Carlos!'

What the fuck...?!

I carefully put the rose over the nightstand and rushed to check.

On the way out of my room I bumped into Shaundi, who was just as puzzled by all the noise.

'Can you tell me what is going on here?'

She told me that she was in her room and that she had no idea.

I leaned on her for support, and she took me to the main hall, where she halted at the top of the stairs, pointing down:

'Oh my God, Boss, look!'

I wasn't prepared for this.

On the room below us the couch was turned, broken bottles of beer scattered over the floor.

Layers of loud people, swinging their fist in the air, formed a purple circle with two men in the middle:

Carlos and Max were lying on the floor in the front of the entire crew, who was yelling and extremely excited to see their fight.

I was relieved to see that Carlos recovered from his side and got up, but Max just remained there coughing, probably from exhaustion. Carlos had enough dignity not to kick the man on the ground, but I heard him taunt:

'What's the matter? You having a heart attack? Shouldn't have popped that blue pill?'

Between gasps, his adversary let out a scream of rage:

'You... Little... SON OF A BITCH!'

To my surprise a very pissed Max used his last drop of stamina to drag himself on the floor with his arms, then ferociously grabbed and bit Carlos' leg in retaliation for suggesting that he needed Viagra. I winced.

'Aaaaaargh! What the fuck!' Carlos said kicking Max with his other leg, hoping he would let go, but my ex's teeth remained sunken in his skin like an alligator's. It was only when he really went out of air that he backed off.

'You fucking bit my leg!' Carlos touched the wound and looked in disbelief at the blood on his hand. 'Motherfucker! He really bit my leg!'

I decided maybe it was time to end this classy display of gentlemanliness.

'Fight! Fight! Fight!'

Thirsty for some action, the crew asked non stop for another round.

They were also starting to throw knives, bottles and even a chair to the participants as weapons.

Next to the center of the ring, a Saint in a black and purple polo shirt was screaming and shaking his fist in the air while holding bills he collected from the audience with his other hand.

'I can kick your ass again.' Carlos defied Max. 'But before, should I ask the guys to bring you an oxygen cylinder?'

'Sure, if you wish me to shove it up your ass!' Max was starting to recover and stood up to show that he accepted a rematch.

Upstairs The Boss's silhouette briefly froze in shock, then hurried as best as she could to stop the fight.

She bumped on Pierce and Gat on her way down, and the two were so into it, they totally missed her:

'All right! Where did he learn these moves? Another fifthy on Carlos!' Gat placed his bet, applauding.

'He used to go to a Kung Fu ring in Sunnyvale with his bro.' Pierce explained, over the top. 'Tough call, Gat! Tough call! Max knows his shit, but our boy is in better shape and is faster! Fuck it, I'll make it two hundred!' He succumbed to his gambling rushes. 'Go, Carlito! Make us some bank homie!'

He almost had a heart attack when a hand touched his shoulder harshly and he saw who it was:

'What the fuck is going on here?!'

He and Gat froze.

The Boss' presence was enough to turn the loud noise into dead silence in a blink of an eye.

'Oh, shit.' Carlos and Max stopped to see why the room went quiet. As soon as they saw what kind of expression was on her face, they decided their beef wasn't so important and let go each other.

Head down, the four men lined side by side, hands crossed solemnly in front of their junk.

It all happened really quickly, but Max took notice, bitterly, that The Boss' first glance was to check if Carlos was ok.

'What does the gang's book says about fights within these walls?' She asked.

No one answered, by fear of getting framed.

She stepped in the circle and almost glued her forehead on Johnny's, aggressively:

'Gat…?!'

'Members must ask permission before they set their differences.'

She picked a broken bottle of beer from the floor, and showed the object in the air as she stepped towards Pierce.

'...And?'

'Uh. Bare handed fights.'

The object went flying and shattered on the wall behind them.

'What's this on the floor?' She pointed down.

Pierce hesitated as he didn't feel the answer he had was acceptable:

'…A cinder block. And, huh, a knife.'

'No one got hurt. The guys were just enjoying some entertainment, Boss.' Gat justified.

She frowned with annoyance, and Gat regretted immediately not having kept his pipe shut, since The Boss snapped an automatic pistol stuck on the sides of his jeans and smashed the frame on the back of his head as a warning. The Second missed a few steps, stunned, and while recovered found the barrel of his gun stuck to his face:

'You have a problem on how I run my crew?'

'Ouch! No.'

'I could expect this crap from these other punks because they're new. But from our Second In Charge? You, I expect to fucking know better.' She continued to walk back and forth, her voice dead serious and pissed. 'While I am laid down I let you in command for five minutes, and wake up to you taking fucking bets?! Is this a joke?'

'No, Boss.' Gat answered quietly.

'And that goes for everyone! This was the first and the last time, is that fucking clear?!'

'Yes, Boss.' Heads still down, the line of four men agreed together, along with the rest of the crew.

Shaundi, behind The Boss, pretended to be scratching her nose but actually covered her mouth not to laugh:

Max wasn't from the gang but seemed to have been caught in the moment, because he clumsy repeated 'Yes, Boss' too.

The Boss walked to Carlos and Max but both kept their heads down, pretending they were invisible.

The Lieutenant's cute face was marked by a huge trail of blood coming from his nose, his chin was also soaked. Max, on his side, had two black eyes and was holding a tooth.

'Fantastic!' She scolded and turned to the pile of cash over the counter. 'I am keeping this.' Much to Pierce and Gat's dislike, The Boss stuck the bills in her pajamas. From the corner of their eyes they exchanged an outraged glance.

A diffused and disappointed 'aaah!' rose from the crowd, possibly from those who also lost their bets.

It caused The Boss to lose her patience, she took Gat's automatic and fired some rounds in the ceiling to shut the gang up.

In response, the old hotel trembled a bit, some concrete detached and fell on top of them.

In the upper part that covered the underground there was a detonation and beneath their feet the ground begun to vibrate.

'Shit, I must've hit something structural, this shithole is falling apart!' The Boss tough, but as soon as the noise died muffled screams could also be heard from above.

'It's gotta be The Samedi, they're re attacking us!' Pierce said.

'This is ridi…!' The Boss was about to dismiss this possibility, but turned out he was right.

Upstairs, there was gunshot.

Gat exchanged a perplexed look with her, then turned to Max:

'Damn it! You were followed.'

Wow! Can't believe it took so long!

I def didn't forsake this story and will bring you more chapters ASAP.

:3 Here is a chapter just to thank you for your patience and get things going again. Hope you'll like it!

Thanks everyone so so much for your lovely feedbacks during this time!

Please review!

Chapter Text

Carlos POV:

'The fuck…?!' Johnny mumbled at my side. 'How did they manage to come in?'

If there's a skill Gat should learn is thinking a bit more before opening his mouth, seriously.

'Hmm, I dunno…!' The Boss spat sarcastically, throwing a furious look at him and the rest of us. 'Perhaps because the whole gang was down here watching your fight and no one cared to keep a watch?'

Yeah, obviously we sucked at keeping the crew on track when she wasn't around, not that we (and specially me) needed a reminder.

'Get out with Gat!' I ignored the fact that she was mad at us about what happened and pressed her arm urgently.

She gave me a surprised look and I knew what was coming next: She was going to argue that she was staying and fighting with us anyway.

I lost my patience and stared at her dead serious. God knows I've never forgot who she was in the gang, but right then I spoke to her simply as the boyfriend who was worrying his ass out:

'You count for shit on this battle in your state, can't you see it? Boss, I am not letting you take a risk like that.'

'Carlos is right, Boss.' Shaundi cut in. 'Just tell us what to do and we'll do it, but you can't fight.'

Even Gat, by a nod, backed us up. It was only then that she agreed with our decision.

I picked her up in my arms and started to head towards the back of the hotel as the crew went looking for their heaviest gear and went upstairs.

'Johnny, what the fuck are you doing?' The Boss said, noticing that he was following us instead of sticking with the crew.

'Carlos can't shoot and carry you at the same time, Boss, and I don't think anyone else here is capable to get you guys out.' He explained.

'You're in charge, remember?' She replied. 'Go back to your position.'

It was then that someone else stepped in and said:

'I'll do it.'

I turned as if touched by cattle prod when I heard Max's voice. I glanced at him, pissed. Why was that cop always crossing our path, always sticking his fucking nose in our business?

He had a protective hand over The Boss', his face had strong will written over it, ready to defeat whatever may.

More than anything, I confess I was relieved. I heard of his skills and, most of all, saw it in his eyes: That man was going to protect her at any cost.

In the situation we found ourselves in, and specially with all the panic I had at the idea of losing her after last night, I couldn't ask for more.

But then, how to explain this acidic sensation in my chest, this anxious feeling that hurt and burned, as if it was going to eat my heart raw?

My will was to take her away from his side, on the other hand, we needed his help.

And you want to know what, I would rather be shot dead before admitting it to anyone… But I would be willing to ask him before anyone else to watch our back.

I knew, by experience, how love goes beyond oneself to protect.

'Come on, man! They're at the doors!' Pierce pulled Gat by the arm.

Meanwhile The Boss stared at my eyes questioningly, and as much as it costed me, I nodded in agreement.

With this the three of us headed on the opposite direction to where the crew was already preparing a siege under Johnny's command.

For us, there was another safe way to hit the streets: The sewer.

With Max always following us, I headed to the subterranean square next to the hotel and stopped at the abandoned fountain that was in the middle of it, carefully sitting her over the concrete edge.

I showed Max a manhole close by and with his help removed the metal lid.

Max's POV:

I jumped behind them, my clothes soaking with the splash of landing. I looked around in the partial dark to find a realm of intersections and narrow corridors.

The turns and crossroads were so close to one another, that I could get no sense of direction. We probably had to follow through one of the rows, but how to guess which one?

My ears picked up the sound of shooting not far away, it looked like our upstairs neighbors had already started the party without us.

I couldn't see much and wondered how we could expect to find our way out, but heard his fast steps splashing on the water in front of me. Their assurance showed that this kid knew the underground like the palm of his hand. I followed from close behind, my gun very ready on my hands.

At least I could help and make a difference at a time like that, or that's what I told myself. But in reality I was also in too deep to turn on my heels and leave.

I came there to leave either back with the woman or with answers.

The bitch that is the human heart, always grasping for happiness... I guess until that moment I still didn't give up on hope that things between us could work out.

Always guided by the clear sounds, I kept going after their silhouettes. Even if the underground could be the lair of a minotaur, I had no problem on following through it.

At some point the ceiling lowered to almost our heads and got narrower and round like a pipe. The sound of falling water got in my ears and kept getting closer, I jogged towards it and saw light peaking at the end of the tunnel.

We stopped in front of some stairs coming out of the dark bricks. There was a little waterfall that led us to another manhole. God only knows in which part of the city we were now, but I trusted they knew what they were doing.

Carlos climbed first and pushed the lid out of the way, a circle of blinding light appearing on the surface of the water.

That kid must've been really insecure, for he immediately called out for his Boss to come up as if he was terrified at the idea of leaving us alone for two seconds.

And while I stood under her on the stairs and helped her to climb out after him, he was very quick to kiss her as he picked her up, obviously so I could see it.

Asshole was marking his territory.

'We'll see about that, won't we.' I swore with a hard frown, stunned at the unpleasant scene. If I wasn't so distracted by it I would've maybe realized that, in the meantime, someone approached me from behind.

I received a brutal blow on the back of my head, as an unknown hand twisted my arm. Bit blinded, I stomped over the foot I sensed behind me and broke free. Without wasting a second I turned and found myself face to face with my attacker. His hand was still on my wrist with a grip of steel I couldn't shake. He had the eyes of a demon, made of green fire or at least so it seemed to me in the grim atmosphere of the sewer.

With lightning reflexes, I flashed my gun and shot him.

He merely flinched.

Surprised, I backed off a little but another gang member jumped at my back and strangled me from behind.

I bent to fight him, perceiving helpless a horrid reflection on the water at my feet: Distorted by the moving mirror, the man with green eyes stuck a syringe in my neck.

I twisted like crazy, my legs immediately folded and I sank.

My bleeding face found the water, what was left of my consciousness making me understand I was quickly retrieved and carried by under my arms and feet.

I tried to scream a warning to the others, but it was useless.

I went offline for a while, couldn't precise how much time went by. When I woke up again was still been carried by them, but now sun light told me I was brought out of the sewer.

I was confused and felt like crap, but not totally wasted by the drug, so my senses and my strength were slowly coming back. I partially closed my eyes to gain time, while still peaking on the environment.

This pressure on my ankles and wrists called my attention to the fact that maybe I was tied. I discreetly looked down at my own body and confirmed that, unfortunately, that was the case.

And now we had halted in front of a green limousine. I was tossed inside like a piece of shit over the back seat to another bitter surprise: I wasn't the only one these creepy assholes had put their hands on.

She was there, peaceful, sleeping next to the man she'd chosen after me.

There was also this Jamaican bald man in a suit sitting across us, enjoying his cigar.

'I am glad you brought them to me, because I wanted to see the face of the individuals that caused us so much trouble.' He said while he stared at Valentina with curiosity.

'They are weaker than I thought.' He concluded, puffing smoke. 'That's enough.'

I squinted my eyes unpleasantly as the same tall weirdo from the sewer opened the door of the car for his boss to get out.

Finally, they were gone, and I was rather glad to finally have a moment to free myself and turn the game. But it seems I didn't understand what was going on.

They were doing a ritual. Something sick that we were a part of.

Through my window I saw members of the gang drawing a circle around our car with this strange substance that quickly lit itself without consuming.

Sunshine stood majestically in the middle of the blazing geometric shape. He sang some bullshit I couldn't figure out and after, to my amazement, passed to the other side intact through the fire.

I've seen weird shit on my day, but nothing on this level.

Carlos' POV:

Around us, a line of bright, dancing light.

We were in the interior of a car, my limbs couldn't move.

It didn't make any sense, but I knew we were in danger.

'What was that…? What was going on?'

I felt someone picking on my arm, after this small stinging pain on the inside part of it. Then a tingling, spreading sensation, like something was being pushed in.

I jumped with a shock, my head jerked backwards to the front.

First thing I was aware was The Boss' breathing on my skin, her head was lying limp on my chest. On my other side, was Max, his eyes closed. The fucker's shoulder was pressed painfully on mine.

The three of us were sitting on the back seat of a fancy car and tied up together. I struggled, but with that shit running directly in the blood you can guess how my body was lagged, it was already reacting to the drug.

I had thick cold sweat running on my forehead and clothes, my veins felt like burning. I could do nothing to stop them from carrying around very quickly whatever fucking venom that was injected on me. I knew we were at mercy of The Samedi and a sinister feeling closed my heart. I wondered if I just got myself a one way ticket to a very a bad trip.

With no other choice, I leant my head protectively over The Boss', short of breath. I craved for us to be as close as possible.

Over the haze, I gazed at her bitterly: Were things coming to an end just like that, before we had time to leave, and build our future together?

I fought, I fought as best as I could. I was happy and didn't want to die. But a wave took part of my consciousness away. My senses got messed up and increased. I could feel in extreme detail all the strands of my girl's hair on the hypersensitive skin of my chest. The pressure from Max's shoulder grew to unbearable, it hurt like it was stuck inside my forearm.

Very fast, I started to sink.

The place we were in disappeared and was replaced by a new, cloudy environment.

I was inside a dream. I dream I could touch and feel with my hands. My brother Hector was there next to me.

Right then this fact didn't seem weird at all. I touched his face happily as I passed next to him, going down a long dark corridor made of polished stone.

Something in that place was calling out for me. At the end of it there was a semi-opened door with strong light coming through. My bro touched my arm and warned me not to go that way, he kept repeating that I might not come back but at that moment I was so drawn to whatever laid behind that door, I would've given no matter what to see what it was.

I ignored him and kept walking towards it.

Max's POV:

'Bastards!' I thought as the last Samedi slammed the door and left with a syringe freshly used on his hands.

Instead of their voodoo rituals, these guys should've been praying for their gods for having calculated my overdose right. Because all that happened that day had already put me in a shitty mood and being beaten, tied up and left to die certainly didn't help with my anger issues. If I survived, they'd better run.

I say this because they probably didn't have a clue of the things I've already been through:

I had years of voluntary intoxication from my alcoholism under my belt.

Once I was given an ultra dose of a design drug, and survived without any complications.

Compared to this, their Loa was a child's play.

'You can do this, Max!' I concentrated against the effects, encouraging myself as I worked the ropes out with my wrists and teeth. 'Come on!'

It burned through my skin, but I was almost done. All I needed was a bit more time… Just a bit more.

Head tilted over The Boss, Carlos seemed to be asleep, his eyes turned up. His consciousness was a world away from his body.

In that other realm, he stepped closer and opened the forbidden door of his dreams. A blinding light came out of it.

Incomplete scenarios that didn't seem to belong to our time started to dance in his mind's eye then: The Lieutenant stared at large room, with vivid colors on the walls and jade ornaments representing jaguars. It was filled with smoke.

A tall man with a large crown of feathers was encouraging an young man dressed in robes to drink more of a strange liquid filling a cup made of solid bones. Carlos found that the last one looked disturbingly like himself.

Both walked to the center of the room, where a young and stark naked woman looked stoned from the suffocating smoke coming from an incandescent plate placed by her side.

She and his second self were kissing now, he had a trembling hand on her waist.

In the short time of a second, the priest with the feathers glanced angrily at this act, his expression animated by a quick flame of passion as the lady's eyes found his.

'It's Max!' Carlos thought, astonished. The man didn't have the cop's exact face, but it was impossible to question his identity. 'How can it be? But that's him alright. Even the way he frowns it's the same!'

The other Carlos, the one of the vision, perceived this moment and frowned back at the man.

The real Carlos felt his hostility towards the rival like it was his own, something inside was screaming it was a real memory he had, even if by obvious reasons it was impossible. Also, he had to take a deep breath, as if he was surrounded by that massive smoke himself, so much it seemed real.

Then the picture faded and turned to something else. That same lady was now wearing simple peasant clothing and sitting on the grass near a big plantation, that had small and shallow trenches surrounded by grey stones. The young man was next to her wiping his hands, dirty with earth, on a piece of cloth that the lady gave him. Then she handed him a small bowl of food and took one for herself. As they started to eat together, he kept smiling at her. She reminded Carlos, without any doubts, of the Boss; but more on the manners than the physical resemblance. It all seemed so vivid, he could almost feel the grass below his legs now.

But he hadn't yet time to feel this sensation and the flipping scenario had already morphed into something else:

Now the same couple was swimming together at a lake. She came closer to him and leant her head on his chest. The man smiled broadly to himself: It was the first time she would display affection towards him.

Now, inside a big and rich salon, his double was changed by demented anger, possessed by jealousy, while he harshly pushed her to a wall. He wanted to know something, so bad he seemed ready to kill for it.

She was looking in his almost crazed eyes while crying and asking him to stop, and he did. Carlos felt something hurt in his stomach, he could feel the excruciating and unbearable feeling of pain, remorse and abandon. Almost instinctively, he bent over, and so did the man on his dreams, who was now wiping uncontrollably against the lady's bosom. It seemed he was saying to her 'I'm sorry'.

Next to them, lied still over the floor the handsome priest, with a small blade stuck on his sides.

But all of it disappeared, in no time the frantic hallucinations took him somewhere else. It was other landscape, that of a desert full of yellow buildings.

His heart, this time, got weightless, as if about to relive something he knew was very good:

It was he and The Boss again, together and happy. He was sitting at the stone steps of a beautiful garden of palm trees, this huge granite sphinx behind him.

A small boy was learning his first steps helped by his mother, she raised her head and looked at the man under the statue with a glance of absolute love in her heavily lined eyes. Max was nowhere to be seen anymore, but with horror Carlos saw his own body get covered in sand as the scene changed once more. His wife and kid vanished, he was alone in an arid, dusty valley.

He was now standing next to himself in a rolling chariot.

He looked back and saw two bodies in an unspeakable condition tied up to it and bumping on the floor violently. Uncanny as it was, the two people were no others than Jessica and Maero.

He couldn't see much else, because the mysterious door slammed closed over this last image.

Carlos' POV:

I swear to God, it was Hector who was pushing me back to the stone corridor we were before. He kept telling me to make an effort, that I couldn't stay there.

I did and tried to return to my body, left in the car. By the force of my will I started to become more aware of it. I tried to move without success, some unknown strength kept pushing me back to that coked up dimension. I insisted and after some time could move my fingers. It seemed so much easier to give up but I kept trying until I felt I was finally back and opened my eyes.

Thought of doing something different just for this chapter and the next.

So you noticed how The Boss was not narrating this time.

It was fun to alternate between Carlos and Max as they were the central figures of the chapter.

I hope Carlos' hallucination scene wasn't too confusing, it was meant to be a little but not totally XD ! I will get into more detail of the stories we saw there and their meaning in another, shorter fic I plan to upload someday.

Review ;)

Chapter Text

Moments before...

Max's POV:

'Made it!' In triumph, I watched the last rope fall to my feet.

The scary chants were always a sinister soundtrack on the background, mixed with the crackling fire.

I moved as discreetly as possible, undoing with my free hands the ropes that kept Valentina and Carlos prisoners.

Her eyes opened and found mine.

She slightly smiled, relieved to see me well, but her expression suddenly got anxious as she became more aware of what happened. She immediately looked around, and at the sight of Carlos unconscious, struggled frantically against the effects of the drug to go and help him.

Of course I was going to, despite everything. But she didn't give me time, she ignored the threat of The Samedi lurking outside and started to give him CPR straight away.

And Carlos, he wasn't responding. Tears of excruciating pain were running down the face of The Leader of the Saints but she kept massaging his chest with such blind determination, that I got it, and let out a defeated sigh.

'I've lost.' I thought, understanding that her desperation was caused by that supreme feeling that erased the instinct of self preservation and trumped everything.

The Boss loved that kid.

Unable to look away, I kept watching her. You might think that this candid loser here was driven by some sort of masochistic behavior, but all I wanted was to see it with my own eyes. I think I was having a hard time to accept it, to cope with the idea that it was over and I had to let it go.

It would be so much easier for me if we ended up on bad terms of betrayal as I was more used to deal with, for instance.

It wasn't the case at all. So, I needed something to hurt me.

She kept insisting obsessively, with so much willpower, that her kiss brought him back to life.

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At the gates of the underground, a nasty surprise awaited Johnny and the Saint crew.

It seemed like the Samedi had sent the entire gang to the Hideout, an impressive number of cars with armed members arrived from every corner of the neighborhood, crowding the entrance of the Mission House.

Unable to resist the first wave, the Saints had no other choice but to retreat. Running and shooting, they returned to the main hall.

They were busy holding the line so the Samedi wouldn't have a chance to invade the interior of the hotel when this deafening blast came from nowhere and blinded the Lieutenants like if a thunder struck in the room. Fulminated, the old statue in the middle of the hall collapsed and it's remains came rolling down the stairs, hard pieces of it flying in their direction.

Gat, next to Shaundi and Pierce, pushed his friends on the floor and threw his body over theirs like a shelter.

In their ears there was nothing but ring from the previous explosion, but the boys could figure out what Shaundi was now yelling to them by watching her mouth move:

'RPG! LOOK OUT!'

No later than a second after the trio jumped out of the spot and in a hurry, another explosion hit the ground much closer to them.

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Carlos POV:

I felt I was back.

My head was pure fog, it needed time to make the line between that other dimension I just left and reality.

I was feeling like shit, but there was this pleasant, soft feeling on my cheeks.

'Hola.' I smiled, seeing The Boss leaning over me. She was crying, her hands touched my face desperately. When she heard me talk she tossed her body over mine in relief.

'Tuve un sueno extrano contigo…*' I tried to explain, just as glad to see her well, as I took a strand of hair away from her face with my fingers. I was perplexed to see tears on her face and clumsy tried to wipe them. 'Por qué estás llorando, mi amor?'

Right then I was unable to speak any other language than my native one. I was also still so much under the effect of the emotions I experienced in that other world, that everything seemed confusing.

I must've been of course still high, because I wasn't much concerned about leaving even if I could see bullets piercing the window of the car, and was simply mesmerized at the sight of my girlfriend's body.

The water from the sewer glued the white silk of The Boss' PJ's on her forms, turning it totally transparent.

To my delight her skin was looking as if it was bare.

I could see in minimal detail the pink color of her nipples, the enticing curve of her breasts circled by her wet hair and followed her tight waist.

My mind was thinking 'tonterias**'.

'Estas hermosa asi. Si no fuera tan cansado te haria el amor ahora mismo, heh?***' I smiled slyly, softly pulling her face to me as I slipped my tongue in her mouth.

I head a sound of someone coughing loudly behind us, as if to tell we were not alone.

'Hey! Que hace este idiota con nosotros?'**** I interrupted myself angrily, acknowledging Payne was there. I stared at him with a hard frown, all hostility. At that moment I no longer saw the cop in him, but rather the dangerous rival of my vision, that priest who fucked up my happiness with the lady that looked like The Boss.

'Stay down, we're in trouble.' She interrupted us, pushing me to lie on the seat.

Still groggy, I agreed and she took a dive to the front of the car, ducking under the driver's seat to wire the car. But without warning our old friend Sunshine opened the door and grabbed her by the hair.

'You again?! Am I that fucked up?' She screamed in surprise, recognizing him.

Enraged, I was about to kill the bastard but she had already kicked him in the gut. He raised his rod to kill her, but her hands dug like the claws of a raven in his eyes and before me or Max came to her aid the creep got his neck stabbed with his own weapon.

'That's my girl.' I blew her a kiss, admiring her courage.

She opened the door and kicked his body out, starting the car.

We heard the motor roaring, hopeful, but there was this repeated sliding noise and we couldn't move forward.

'Shit. The wheels are getting on something…!' She cursed with frustration. 'We're stuck.'

'I've got it.' Max said, opening the door. He slipped cautiously and duck behind the car to avoid getting shot. It was raining and his feet immediately sunk on the dirt, while he tried not to slip on his fours. He joined his hands in a dome shape and started to take out by handfuls the blockage on the wheel, but it was taking forever. The Boss hit the accelerator impatiently with her foot but still nothing happened. So I shook my head to make myself more responsive and joined Max in his task (even if I had the hardest of times being at his side).

Together, we were much quicker to move all the wet earth away. Too quick maybe: The car suddenly went free and tore away, covering us with mud with all the acceleration The Boss was doing.

She sucked at driving, may I say.

Without expecting it, the two of us were left alone and without cover. We stared helpless at the car leaving at high speed, in a both tragic and comic moment, disappearing from our sight as in a cartoon.

'Shit!' I cursed, lying on the ground to protect myself behind Sunshine's dead body. I saw that, by my side Payne did the same and his hand quickly recovered an automatic peaking under his green vest.

All the hate I had for him apart, must add that Johnny was right when he said the cop was all that with a piece. It was like this motherfucker had the ability to control time, warp into another dimension where he was much faster than anyone else.

I couldn't help but stare, impressed, while in one swift move he pointed the pistol in both directions, his wrist barely shaking as the two Samedi attacking us simultaneously fell with a split in their skulls.

At that time, however, it only angered me more though. With a cold expression I rose to my feet and didn't say a word to him.

I turned and started to walk away, now concentrated in cleaning the dirt on my mug with my fingers. I sighed with relief to see how everything turned well, allowing the drops of rain to bring me back to sobriety.

Max had gotten up too and I saw that he retrieved a pack of smokes from his pocket.

As he lit it and started to enjoy his cig, I tilted my head pleasantly to let the rain hit my face fully.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

In the mean time, back in the Hideout…

It took a moment for Gat to recover from the blow. He found himself behind the bar of the main hall, lying on the floor next to Pierce and Shaundi. He didn't recall how exactly did they manage to reach that spot, guessing that only their survival instinct could be responsible for it.

Soon the sounds of screams coming from his crew took him out of the semi-stunned state he found himself in.

He peaked behind the counter, ready to aim his gun.

The Samedi armed with the RPG continuously fired rockets in every direction, managing to endure the bullets he received and that he didn't even seem to feel.

It was a vision of hell, Gat saw pieces from the bodies of colleagues flying away and set on fire. The suicidal gangster also aimed for the structure pillars of the hotel. They felt the ground trembling under their feet like there was an earthquake going on, parts of the ceiling falling over their heads.

It was when Pierce had the idea to throw a couple of grenades at the guy and it finally did the matter.

The Ronin Lieutenant's face then was illuminated by hope as in front of them, the line of Samedi started to grow thinner.

Not without a reason because Gat and Shaundi were ducked behind the counter of the bar firing at those poor bastards that came down the stairs and didn't see them through the smoke Johnny released on purpose on the room.

It didn't take a long time until they could cheer wildly with the sight of the last man down.

Checking to see if everyone was safe, Gat came out of cover and sat on the ground to rest as he wiped the sweat coming down his forehead, thinking that the worst was behind.

But Shaundi came closer and tapped on his shoulder as a warning. Without believing it the Second in Command saw a deformed release of smoke coming from the lowest part of the underground. He and the others covered their noses with their shirts, immediately blinded by that black shapeless monster.

'Oh my fucking God. The hotel is burning, Johnny!' Pierce screamed in amazement.

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Carlos' POV:

While doing an excellent job to ignore each other, we both waited for The Boss to return.

Now that we were safe, I had the time to acknowledge our surroundings and discovered that we were at the meat packing district, in this abandoned terrain behind the Slaughterhouse. The air was calm, we could barely hear anything apart from the sound of rain, flames and street noises at a distance. Amazingly, the fire from the large circle around us was still going.

It was a bit cold, smoke was forming at the tops of the flames and around my lips with every breath. Shivering, I zipped up my hood while my eyes laid curiously on our enemy's body. I tried to look away but his greenish eyes were still mesmerizing, sinister even without life in them.

It was when something caught my eye. Was the drug playing tricks with my mind? Or was there smoke coming out of his mouth too…?

On my guard, I approached suspiciously drawing Max's attention as well.

He came closer from the other side and I had to shake my head, refusing to believe my eyes as I let out a muffled exclamation.

A flame brought back life to his pupils, he blinked and his hand limply animated, looking like the hand of a marionette pulled by strings. He stretched his arm in Max's direction, opening his mouth to speak. At first he wasn't strong enough, so Sunshine simply placed an object at Max's feet, leaving a trail of his blood on the cop's trousers:

'You must rip her heart out!' He whispered, encouragingly, handing the ex-Sargent his skull rod. 'We wanted you to do it on your own, but I see that The Loa had no effect on you. Do it, and all the strength of The Leader of the Saints will be yours. We will welcome you as our honored son.'

Max jumped, outraged, at his request:

'Are you insane?! What kind of sick bastard are you, to ask me to rip someone's heart out?!'

Sunshine had a little laugh of mockery:

'Why so shocked my friend? How ironic, you, of all people. It used to be part of your duties, priest Gabor.'

At those words I felt my hands shaking, my legs went weak and I had the goosebumps. A moment before the bullets didn't make me tremble, but now a feeling of intense fear made my jaw tap. How could Sunshine know?! I haven't had the time to tell my vision to anyone.

The image of that solemn man with the crown of feathers reappeared in my imagination, it wasn't difficult at all to picture him performing some fucked up ritual in Mayan sacrifice style, just as they used to tell me in little school.

I glanced at Max and his eyes met mine, as if he was looking at me for answers too. Even if he made efforts not to seem impressed, his face was contracting in terror, as if what was said touched a sensitive spot.

But Sunshine interrupted us as he looked at me and laughed in a satanic way while pointing in my direction, delighted to see my panic and my confusion:

'Still willing to do anything to save your Itzel, Senefer?'

It was like my gut was sinking, all the sensations in my body where multiplied by ten at those words. My heart was pumping like mad. I've never heard those weird names before in my life, but something about them sounded sinisterly canny.

Our Lord Jesus Christ, I've always kind of believed in life after death, destiny, these sort of things. But I was always very unsure… Now I thought, as a shiver ran down my spine and the hairs at the back of my head stood up, that there was no way all of this could be just coincidence.

Max's voice was faint when he reacted, drawing his gun:

'Wha..? What are you talking about, sick freak?'

'If you can't do it, then kill your rival!' Sunshine suggested. 'She won't see it! It will leave the way open for you.'

At those words, Payne immediately snapped his face in my direction. Out of instinct my fingers wrapped around the gun at the back of my pants.

We reacted like two wild animals, sensing the danger of destruction in each other's presence. He seemed on the edge, ready to pounce and I was ready to strike back.

Inside that cursed circle of hell, we stood face to face as the flames burned around us. My eyes were injected with blood, red with the emotions that moved me to tear him apart. The echoes of the strange vision still haunting me, I had the sudden impression that it wasn't really the first time that something similar happened between us. And that by some weird force, we were reunited once more, linked by a hate that made things keep repeating themselves.

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* I had a weird dream with you

** Sexual stuff

*** You look good like this. If I wasn't so tired I would make love to you right now. Why are you crying?

**** What is that idiot doing with us?

The more reviews, the quicker I'll write! So if you're liking it, please take your time to leave a review ;)

Chapter Text

Max's POV:

I couldn't help but gaze at Carlos, his eyes froze on mine across the rain, lit with a concentrated hate that stuck me to the floor. That feeling, it found echo in me. With all the gut impulses of violence my finger pressed harder on the trigger.

But at that point, sticking its head out like a piece of driftwood, one though pulled me back to the surface from the bottomless pit of insanity and jealousy Sunshine smartly threw us in: She loved him.

If I didn't love her too, maybe I would've wished for him to die right there and let the way open for me. I confess that for a mad second I felt the temptation, but then I realized I could never do it, and me, who once suffered so much with the loss of loved ones could never be the one to inflict such pain in someone I cared so deeply for. It also seemed to me that even if I shot him, it would be useless, that the feeling I saw in her eyes while trying to revive him was so intense, it couldn't leave an open door for an old love to return and reclaim his place.

Carlos' POV:

I closed my eyes and stood still, waiting for death to come to me from end of Payne's gun.

Right then I didn't doubt he would pull the trigger at all, and to be honest, at his place I guess would've done the same.

Out of a proud effort, I kept my face as still as possible. I didn't want to give the guy any satisfaction by showing just how leaving life at the point where everything was perfect would be painful, and how much he was going to take from me.

But Max turned, spinning on his heels and discharged his clip on a confused Sunshine.

I was still unable to believe that he wasn't going to pop my brains out, while I watched the priest's body pumping up and down on the ground under the bullets, like a rag doll from hell.

But I wasn't convinced...

If Payne had a clue what kind of enemy he was facing. I remembered our encounter at that fucking boat, and if he wasn't dead after the explosion, I was pretty sure a few rounds of ammo would never be enough for him.

Turns out I was right. His immortal hand grabbed the front of the gun, blocking it. With a kick, his arm snapped forward, slamming the weapon on Max's nose. For the first time ever, I didn't feel satisfaction for seeing him get fucked up. The guy's surprise was such, he did nothing to counter. A hand covering his bleeding nose, the cop fell on his sides over the muddy grounds.

In the meantime, Sunshine recovered his rod from the ground and his two hands raised above his head, ready to finish the cop. I didn't even think about what I did next: I sprinted towards them and gathered speed, sliding on the earth as I pushed Max out of the way and knocked down The Samedi with a low kick. The tip of his blade still pierced my shoulder, but since it was no big deal I still could kick his face freely, helped by my unlikely ally.

I felt Max's hands pulling on my arm and I promptly understood what he meant: This was a lost fight, we had to get out of there. We got up stumbling around like two drunks, our feet sinking in the mud. In a brief second we stood face to face, all the hostile feelings still present. It was mutual, we hated each other! But now weirdly, there was something else and dissonant, mixed to it. Forgiveness? Obligation? I'll never know.

We didn't have much time to acknowledge it: Through the sound of rain, we heard someone honk and two lights came in our direction crossing the circle.

'Guys! Get out of the way!' The Boss poked her head at the window.

We gladly and immediately withdrew to the sides and she put the Limo on reverse.

The car stopped as she burned tires to get more impact, it was having a hard time to do so since the wheels spun into nothing over the wet track.

Finally, it went off full throttle and hit Sunshine, sending him unpleasantly flying a few meters from where we were.

Without waiting, The Boss turned the gear and hit reverse again, charging over his limp body. Sunshine dragged himself on the floor, trying to get away from it, but The Limo rolled over him with all its weight while we stood there stupefied by the bizarre scene, hearing the sound of his bones breaking.

The engine roared one more time, mercilessly repeating the maneuver to the point no living being could survive its consequences anymore.

Finally, Sunshine was nothing but a deformed mass of flesh, abandoned and still over the puddles.

'What the fuck…' I sighed with relief, resting my hands on my knees.

'Get in!' She rolled to our spot and opened the door for us.

Exhausted, I was delighted at the idea to go inside and out of that bad trip of insanity, hallucinations and shitty weather.

But we should've known better… Before I had the time to do so, Sunshine was up again. He looked like a zombie version of himself. There was a hole in his neck, a blood trail lining down from it until his shoulder like a dark shawl.

I dodged his blow just in time, the skull rod shattered the glass and made a hole on the glass of the window. I grabbed his hand to prevent a second strike, surprised at the inhuman strength of his muscles against mine.

'You're kidding me?! How many times do we have to fucking kill you?' Our driver complained, angry.

I was face to face with the Devil, not knowing how long I would be able to hold it when I turned my head and heard The Boss scream to Max:

'Here! Cut his head off!' She picked up a machete displayed as a piece of decoration on the walls of the Limo and tossed it to Max.

In the same motion he grabbed the weapon in the air and swung it down. Sunshine's head detached with a hot squish and fell defeated between my feet.

Fucking gross.

Gat realized that they were almost unable to see two meters ahead.

His throat closed, he inhaled but nothing happened and still needed air.

Without thinking, the three Saints hanged on each other for guidance and rushed out the place, helping the crew to evacuate as well.

In the middle of a long line of people eager to come out for air, preceded by Shaundi and followed by Gat as the last one, the gang called out for one another. The number of members increased on their way out while pressing on each other.

On the upper part, however, part of the old ceiling collapsed. It almost blocked the entire passage to the outside but luckily it left enough space for one to squeeze through.

Shaundi rolled out first, opening the double doors of the church and a delicious breath of fresh air hit them. One by one, everyone started to crawl under the space on the structure. Gat let them pass, lifting the wood to help.

Slowly, but without any major problem, most of the gang made it safely outside, until Johnny realized that this tall dude stopped in front of them. Gat stretched his neck to see what was going on and saw the man checking worried on one of his feet, that was bare:

'My pumps! I lost one! They are the exact same model that Kanye West…!'

In all his states, this guy started to explain something about Ebay while trying to look for it and holding up the line.

'Pierce.'

With a hard frown Gat recognized the Lieutenant, wanting to punch his face for thinking of his godamn kicks at a time like that. He and the whole crew behind complained:

'Fuck your shoes Pierce, just go!' Johnny decided himself grabbing him by the shirt and almost shoved his friend through the opening, pissed.

Max's POV:

'You alright?' I asked Valentina as we both jumped on the back seat.

'Just fine, you?' She asked, turning her profile to me as the car tore off the site. I nodded as in one leap, we bypassed the consuming circle. And boy, was I glad to leave it behind.

Honestly, what was that? I never left a place so creeped out before. I swear, that name. I didn't dare to repeat it, not even in my head, by fear of bringing back that panic I felt when Sunshine implied that I used to… Never mind. I was probably getting soft with age to start buying paranormal crap like that, yet strangely it all made sense. It was like somewhere in my mind I knew she and I couldn't be together, and that it happened before that the three of us met and I had to sacrifice our relationship.

I would have a strange dream that night about that subject, but that's another story*… For the time being it's enough to say that, discouraged, I let myself go numbly along with the ride.

My depressed musing was interrupted by a ringtone, I heard she picking up but, uninterested, I was focused on watching the rain outside:

''Sup Gat?'

Her pal's voice was not only breathless, but also panicked:

'The whole place is on fire Boss! We evacuated everyone…!'

'On my way, Gat.' She answered, all resolution.

It was terrible news, but I couldn't give more of a fuck. I was heartbroken.

'It hurts so damn much.' I thought as we speeded up towards the Hideout.

Carlos' POV:

After crossing town in a very bumpy ride, we parked with a slide at the entrance of the Hideout. I never saw so many bodies together in my whole life. It was pretty safe to assume that we killed most of the gang and that only by a miracle the Samedi could recover after that.

The floor was literally covered in green. Some gangbangers were hanging dead from the inside of their many vehicles and even missing body parts, explosion marks on the brick walls of the buildings behind. Some cars were on fire and I would know later, by Gat, that Tobias came as a reinforcement spitting lead from above in his chopper.

The Heli, by the way, was right in front of us and knocked out. Its black carcass turned to the side also darkened by flames.

The calm after the storm, I was assigned to loot the dead bodies with Tobias. We were carrying our valuables and ammo back home when he was surprised to see me suddenly stop on my tracks as we reached the corner of the Mission House.

In front of us, there was a man and a woman sitting more apart from the others, on the sidewalk.

His arm was passed around her shoulders and she had her hands over his face, caressing his beard with a tender gesture.

Max.

My girlfriend.

I was suffocated with rage and hurt. There he was, always in our path, again responsible for another scene that had the power to bring the worst in me.

Just like my double from the hallucination, I was once more feeling that hollowness on my stomach, that burning anger associated with the loss of the one I loved more than myself. I panted, letting out air as if trying to spit that thing out of me. I couldn't bear it inside any longer.

The cop ex boyfriend or priest from another life... Would this impossible hypothesis that he really existed explain the instinctive dislike I've always had for that man?

I watched, irrationally hurting, how their silhouettes bound together in a tender embrace. I walked towards them in large and angry steps, ready to drag her away from him but halted as I listened to their dialogue and understood what all of this was really about:

'You really love him, don't you?' Max was asking her bluntly.

'I do.' The Boss replied humbly, unable to hide her feelings.

From my place, I was now petrified, stuck to the floor by a perfect, unmixed happiness that made all that what I've been through so far worth it.

I addressed to God my immense gratitude for Him granting me what I wanted the most in my life.

I suspected it, of course, but not even in my wildest dreams I thought that I could be deserving of being loved like that by that woman.

'So, us…?' Max looked in her eyes with expectation, as if he needed to hear it from her mouth in order to move on.

The Boss understood it and gave him a sad smile, I guessed she didn't want to say anything and hurt his feelings further. He got it and I saw the cop's head sunk to his chest for a while, after nodding slowly a few times.

Half casually, half moved, Payne passed his fingers on my girlfriend's cheek and I couldn't help to wince and look away in order not to see this gesture of affection:

'Know that even if things didn't turned out the way I expected, I will always think of you very dearly. Don't matter what people say, you've brought light and only good things into my life.'

'You know I love you, right? It changed, but... I will always love you Max. I'ld go to the end of the world for you.' She guaranteed, a tear trailing down her face.

'I know.' He replied with a bittersweet smirk.

She hugged him and he reciprocated for a short moment, then kindly pushed himself out of it and walked away. The Boss watched him leaving for a while, then turned on her heels without noticing me and went to rejoin the crew that was gathering in front of the Hideout.

From my side I understood that even if she would always care for him, since I showed up in the picture that guy was just friend she loved very much. And that, nor Max, nor anyone in the world would ever be a threat to what we had.

He kept coming my way and when he saw me standing at the corner, didn't stop. Just kept passing without looking at me.

I can't lie, there were still the worst possible feelings, of course. I couldn't choose how I felt, right? But I could choose to change how things were. Seal a pact of peace and do my best for us to get along.

So I halted the man by the shoulder, offering, just like back in the party, my hand for a handshake. And despite everything that happened he accepted it without hesitation. It put me a bit at shame of myself as I would never be a person like that.

'I wanted to say… Thanks, sincerely. I owe you a lot and…' I laughed, awkwardly, trying to find a way to say it. 'Won't bulshit you, it ain't easy for me to admit but I know The Boss cares a lot about you, and I, well, I respect you Max.'

Max stared back silently at me as he lit a cigarette.

I felt almost sympathy for him when he tapped on my shoulder with these friendly blue eyes and said before going away:

'Likewise. You two watch out after each other.'

He went his way and I turned, free of a weight and walked to the crowd. The Boss smiled widely when she saw me stepping into it.

She walked in my direction, slowly, and in a very sweet gesture leant her head on my chest in front of the entire crew.

Behind us, people reacted and made surprised noises.

In response I leant closer and gave her a long and deep kiss on the lips, confirming what everyone guessed.

With a blast the gang broke into applause and whistles, an over excited sea of screaming voices. It continued like that for more than three minutes as we both stared at them and at each other, grinning.

Shaundi, Pierce, Gat, my friend Bruno and Tobias. It meant a lot to me that all of them were very supportive of the news.

'What now, Boss?' Gat asked the question everyone had in their minds after the noise faded, contemplating the smoking remains of the Mission House.

She shrugged in her blasè way, turning her head sideways and half closing her eyes pensively. I had the impression that she was already coming up with a plan:

'We'll need a new place for a while.'

*Max will share his dream with us and explain the mystery linking him to Carlos and The Boss in a separated fic I plan to upload someday.

Are you on #teamcarlos or on #teammax ? Leave your comments!

Chapter Text

Heron Hotel, Stilwater:

So this was it.

Waking up, turning the head to your side and at the sight of your sweetheart sleeping next to you, realize that everything changed forever.

His dear face was barely distinguishable in the darkness of the room, but my lips, they were already splitting in an uncontrollable smile as I strangled a sob. I let the tears run down my face silently.

'Carlos, Carlos…' I thought, my fingers caressing his cheeks.

'Te amo.'

I still didn't have the guts to confess it to him. But yesterday when Max asked me to tell the truth I knew there was only one answer to that question.

It was only then that the image of my ex crossed my spirit, making my heart contract painfully.

I bit my lip worryingly, thinking:

'Poor Max. He doesn't deserve this. I hope he's doing all right. He'll get over it, he'll find someone.'

But I knew I was simply trying to deflect the thought that he was surely still aching because of me.

Amongst my perfect happiness, that was the only shadow.

One look back at Carlos, though, was enough to make me forget everything.

For a few minutes, I just stood there staring at him, leaning on my elbows.

Finally, I let go of my adoration pose and rose to a sitting position, with extreme care not to wake him up.

I knew he was going to freak if he saw me going out with my injuries, but I had business to take care of.

The shirt Carlos wore the previous day was left on the floor, I hastily traded it for my PJs. Since he was much bulkier than me the fabric of the shirt almost arrived to my knees, so I didn't see the need to put anything else and simply slipped in the first pair of shoes I found.

He shifted to find another position on the bed, half asleep. I stretched my hand to the nightstand, without making a sound; waiting for him to fall back to sleep, reaching for my favorite gun and delicately retrieving it so the metal wouldn't make any noise against the wood. I left him a little note, slipped the gun in the back of the shirt and closed the door on the tip of my toes.

'Ah.' At first Carlos melted at the affectionate words on the note but immediately frowned with worry. He massaged his eyes to wake himself up.

'I'm gonna cuff this woman to the foot of the bed, that will be the only solution to keep her inside!' He complained out loud while putting up his boxers.

'Left with my shirt.' He mused, then turned his head and looked straight to the nightstand to see if her gun was still there, only to have his suspicions confirmed.

Driving to the Suburbs with A-Ha on the radio felt like I was high and on vacation. That is, not that I've been on one before, but this is exactly what I imagined it would look like.

Sun shining, every second of life was amazing like I didn't ever recall before.

When I reached Tidal Springs, I had that stereotypical (a word Max used once and I googled up) 'romantic sight'.

With a grin, I stopped the car and checked the bullets on the pistol. Thinking of Carlos and reliving our moments together had became the main activity of my brain whenever he wasn't around.

The car was parked in front of this very nice residential building. I remarked it a couple of times before when me and Gat used to drive to Aisha's.

My head turned up to the top of it:

The Penthouse.

This is where I had to pay a little visit. Both for business and pleasure of revenge.

When I got upstairs there was this noise so loud coming out of the flat that it could be heard while still on the elevator. Those cop assholes where having a party, taking by the voices and music.

I shot straight on the lock of the door. With that much noise it would probably take a while for everybody inside to figure out what was going on. But I didn't waste any time and busted in, I didn't want to give that prick any chance to slip away. The boys did worst than I could with his crew, but since he was the one behind it, there was no way that bastard was going to leave that building alive.

On the other side of the door, a good handful of people were dancing under the dim club lights of the living room or drinking in small groups. About 20 or 30 in total. Strippers passed through, occasionally longing on a guy to perform. Above the scene, pot and cigarette smoke formed a permanent cloud.

'BANG!'

The sound of the shot went, indeed, almost unnoticed. Even when The Boss kicked the door open and intruded the crib, only a few people turned towards her. However, this lack of reaction lasted only for a second. Two strippers nearby screamed at the sight of her piece. This other dark haired guy, hugging them, pushed both to the floor and tried to escape.

It was when a tall and muscular man in a suit, probably placed there for security, pulled his submachine and aimed at her.

The Boss ducked as the door behind her almost disintegrated under the hail of bullets.

She counter shot the guard on the legs, aiming quickly and executing him as he fall on the ground. The man between the two strippers was caught in their exchange as he tried to flee. He now contorted himself over a couch, filling the clear tissue of the furniture with unmistakable red liquid.

After a morbid silence, came a wave of screams, broken glass and more shots. Total panic broke into the place as people bumped into each other trying to escape. Some eventually fell to the ground with a bullet as The Boss didn't care in the slightest if she was hitting them as well. Another armed man soon came down the stairs shooting in her direction, followed by a woman carrying a small rifle.

On the mezzanine where they came from, a group of men tried to peak on the lower floor while keeping cover under the furniture. All they could hear was the loud chain of bullets over the music, and see the gun flashes briefly illuminating the walls along with the light effects. Funny enough, it all looked like a nightclub.

The man and the woman shot at the new intruder, but the people still running all over the place made the task difficult. In the meantime The Boss stunned a stripper with a chair in the head. The poor woman barely had the time to understand that she was to be used as a human shield. Just as The Boss dispatched her enemies on the top of the stairs, and her body was pushed to side. Lifeless, it had more wholes than one could count.

By then, people evaded as fast as possible, literally walking over each other in their intent. After a while no more shots were heard. No one screamed anymore. For several minutes, nothing but the electronic music dominated the atmosphere. Slowly, carefully passing over bottle debris and dead bodies, The Boss climbed the stairs leading to the mezzanine.

They were having a poker night, chips and half full glasses of whiskey divided space over the center table, along with pistols and piles of cash.

At the sight of the delicate woman, arm resting on a sling, none of the three guy there moved, certainly not considering her at the origin of the threat.

Only John panicked and got up, recognizing The Boss and remembering how she savagely killed his friend with a bite while still tied up. He fired his gun and ran best as he could towards the balustrade. He jumped below, cursing for not being able to get up and run faster.

She picked up a butterfly knife on her pocket, tossing it in the air as her good hand picked up the handle and in the same motion shoved it in the throat of the nearest bastard until the spine.

The remaining man shot back at The Boss but she retreated to hide herself behind the bar.

But almost immediately she came out of cover and hit the cop with two shots on the chest. She then rushed to the balustrade and aimed at John, calmly hitting his leg.

'Told you I would fuck up your right one too!' She thought with a grin, watching the cop suffer the hit and desperately try to drag himself towards the exit.

Satisfied, she walked towards the vintage sound system and turned down the volume. The Saints never liked electronic shit…

'You need cash? We can make a deal.'

'Not interested.'

'What about this penthouse?'

'Oh, I absolutely love it. But I was thinking that it's going to be mine as soon as I kill you, so don't bother.'

He tried and crawled to a submachine gun on the floor but I calmly kicked it out of the way. John then turned his head automatically to where the threat came from and we crossed glances. But his nasty eyes were soon hypnotized by the barrel of my gun.

I was so happy lately that revenge was not the number one thing on my mind. To see intense the fear in those unpleasant eyes and his trembling limbs was more than enough to placate my fury to what he did to me. With one tired motion I placed the gun closer to the top of his head and shot. End of subject.

To be honest I was more interested in the surroundings, even before settling foot in that amazing penthouse.

The place was definitely worth all the trouble.

It was ours now! All it was missing was a little call to make sure we wouldn't be bothered about it.

I grabbed the cell phone John knocked out on the floor during the shooting and dialed the PD number. I asked for Troy.

'You? Are you fucking crazy calling here…?!'

'Aren't you glad to hear from your old buddy, Piglet? I said with fake disappointment, calling him by an old and affectionate pet name Lynn gave him.

Troy sighed, I guessed a bit uneasy. The nickname seemed to have an unpleasant effect on him, reminding our ex-friend of guilt and long forgotten days.

Calling him that was meant to hurt him, but it did hurt me just as much to think of it.

I continued with a phony tone as if we were still best buddies:

'I am just calling to tell you that I just busted a little party your subordinates were having at the Suburbs flat. Of course there are a lot of dead bodies in and out of the place and I am counting on you that the police won't come.'

'What… What the fuck are you talking about?'

'Don't act surprised, you knew all about it. We're keeping their place and I don't want any questions asked. Do we have a deal?'

There was silence on the other side.

'I have footage, Troy.'

After another, very long pause, his voice was heard again, except in a uneven tone. His rage must've been such he spoke really fast, had a hard time coming up with words:

'Surprise… this… This comes to light, I mean! The day after your white knight resigned. I could send this dipshit to jail for all I...!'

'…You leave Max fucking alone, Troy.' I warned, for the first time showing genuine emotion. 'Escúchame bien! You ain't got the right to call him anything, you motherfucker. You and I are two pieces of the same shit, but he isn't. If I didn't kill you for what you did before I swear I will if you ever do anything to Max. Besides…' I continued in a more neutral tone, calming my hard feelings: 'Granted that you miraculously manage to avoid me killing you, which you wouldn't… If you accuse him you would go down too.'

There was only fast pacing on the other side, and exhaling smoke from Troy's well known habit of fucking up his lungs. I imagined him walking around beyond pissed, trying to keep his shit together since he was left without an option.

'Why?' He asked, fucked up.

'He told me it would keep you at bay from trying anything against me. He isn't around to keep an eye on you anymore. Apparently, he found out you swept some crap under the rug.'

'So much for loyalty…' Troy said, referring to the fact that Max gave away so much confidential info.

'Heh. Are you one to talk?'

'Enjoy your new flat.' Pissed, but convinced, he congratulated me bitterly and hung up.

'Oh, I see you've been decorating already.' Gat noticed a dead man's body over the chair, with a knife pinned to his throat. He and Carlos entered the Saints' new apartment. Both looked around, impressed at the costly decoration. The place was not only spacious with two floors but also had a jacuzzi, a full size bar and a home theater.

'Though of giving it a nice touch to make it look like home.' The Boss smirked from the bar as Gat sat on a stool next to her and reached for a bottle of liquor over the counter.

'Anyone care for a glass of Brandy?' He asked checking the label on the expensive drink, and continued with irony: 'We're in the wrong business, Boss. Been a cop pays way more than we thought.'

'Hmph, Right? Have you seen this flat guys?!' She opened her arms, encouraging them to look around.'Think of all the parties we can have here. It's our crib now!'

'Fucking yeah!' Johnny nodded with delight.

Carlos, on the other hand, wasn't pleased and crossed his arms. He shrugged sourly as he spoke:

'It's all very nice, but I didn't like you taking over their turf all alone in that state.' He addressed an angry glance towards The Boss. But soon as she smiled to him and gave him a long kiss before putting her glass on his lips for him to drink, his expression softened a tad:

'So, did you get him?' He gave her back the glass and stroke her hair with the back of his hand softly.

'Over there.' She pointed behind herself as she kissed his hand.

Carlos followed towards a trail blood. He lifted the body's head by the hair to look at the man's face. 'Asshole. That was totally him that other night.'

He took a sec to spit on the cop's face before releasing it back in the blood pool with a splash.

Looking at the face of the cop brought Carlos involuntary flashbacks of that horrible night when the Boss went missing.

Her body covered in blood, her clothes torn down. Those two bastards screaming and still alive, the heavy sound of that trash compactor…

It was like someone had shoved a knife right into his stomach. And again, just like in the car, he felt himself to be intoxicated with that same hate…

To think that The Boss risked her life so irresponsibly, to come after him in such a situation! How could someone not care in the slightest about her own life like this?! Yes, she knew her shit or she wouldn't be a gang leader, but all it would take was a single mistake or mishap and then it would have been the end for her.

'Stupid.' He thought out loud, more to himself than to he others.

'What was that?' The Boss asked distracted.

Carlos' eyes went from a lost spot on the wall to hers. His gaze was addressed to her, this time, as were his words:

'That was one fucking stupid thing to do. What the fuck were you thinking?'

She stepped back, a bit surprised:

'Well, we needed a new crib so…'

'So… What?!' His voice raised a notch, with frank hostility.

The Boss kept silent and looked at the bottom of her glass with an heavy expression. The change of tone of the Lieutenant's voice, usually so loving, was enough to make her go defensive.

Feeling the tension, Gat raised from the bar carrying his glass and excused himself with all subtlety:

'Erm… Guys, I am out of here. I ain't in a relationship, so no way I am in for a couple fight.'

'Qué te pasa Carlos?'

'I've had enough with this life!' He shouted, finally exploding all the feelings of the last two days. 'I've had just enough with The Saints!'

She backed up, like someone just hit her in the most vulnerable place. Of all people, he was the last one she could imagine capable of saying this. Since that day in jail, she always thought of Carlos as one of the most loyal Saints, just like her and Gat. She couldn't understand his reasons, it just felt like betrayal. Like somehow he was going to abandon her. 'What is wrong with our life?'

'What is wrong? Nothing! It's fucking great.' He greeted through his teeth with irony, grabbing her shoulders painfully, too angry to be aware of the pressure he was using. 'It's great to watch you go out not knowing in what state you are going to come back, and if you are going to be back. To lower my godamn head just in time to keep my brain in one piece at every drive by. It's amazing! Best life ever!'

In a sudden outburst and without really thinking about what he was doing, Carlos pulled his coat over the Boss. He picked her up by the arm and walked them both to the door.

'What the hell are you doing?' She yelled, surprised.

'We're leaving.' He replied as he kicked the door open.

'We?! You fucking serious?'

With a frenetic, possessed motion, he kept dragging The Boss behind himself towards the parking lot. Her resistance in doing so caused them to miss steps several times while going down the stairs.

'Even if I have to drag you out of this life, I swear!'

'Like hell I am! I can't just give up on the gang just because you're not feeling it!' She focused enough to free her arm.

'You don't get it!' Carlos joined his palms with exasperation. 'It's not about a career, it's about the high bet that one of us will get a godamn bullet in our skulls any day now!'

'What the fuck do you want me to do?! THIS is my life! This ALL I fucking had so far!'

She yelled as she stared at the Atrazzione parked next to where he was now. Even if she gave it to him as a gift, each step he took towards it made her more nervous. She kept waiting for that moment when Carlos would say he couldn't go on with their relationship, just like it happened with Max. She felt a bit of relief to see that he didn't start the car, but she needed to be sure:

'You're… You're not going are you?'

Altered, he left the seat and banged the door of the car with violence:

'No I will stay.' He screamed with all anger. 'Because I am a dumbass and fucking love you, but I know I really, really shouldn't!'

And then, without expectation The Boss uttered words neither Carlos or herself would believe possible:

'Maybe not now but someday, for you, when the gang is back to its old glory…I could…' She was still furious, even more for considering such words. 'You see?!'

All of Lieutenant's anger melted immediately. His expression turned to delighted gratitude, as if her words healed his bad feelings:

'You're saying this for real?'

Still overwhelmed by her feelings, she simply looked away and nodded.

Disturbed and silent, the couple started to head back to The Penthouse.

We both rode back up quietly, unable to stare or say a word to each other.

With my back turned, I could get a glimpse of his reflection in the mirror of the elevator. I felt that maybe that it was trying to connect and reach out for me.

His reflection was conciliatory, but, in that moment, I was pissed at him. And maybe more at myself.

At what I said. And, of course, because I knew I meant it.

'Shit. I can't just give up on The Saints like that just because… Fuck, if he didn't say he would stay, I swear… I would've gotten in that car with him.'

Avoiding his glance, I entered the flat and he followed, insecurely, closing the door behind himself.

I didn't know how to act. I could never keep my cool in an argument, specially with people I cared deeply for.

I went upstairs and sat in bed, trying to relax a bit.

To my surprise I felt a weight on the mattress close to me.

A lip on the back of my neck.

I squinted my eyes, feeling it deeply.

Despite being pissed, all I wanted was to give in to it and make it out, forget that fight ever happened. But, I was never really used to kindness, or how to react to it. That tender gesture had me confused, in that whirlpool of emotions. So out of instinct of preservation my lips muttered the opposite of what my heart meant:

'No fucking way this gonna happen tonight.'

'Fine! Get your room all to yourself then.'

He grabbed a pillow in the bed, his jacket in a hurry and left banging the door.

'Shit.'

A lot later that night Carlos went back in the room.

I sank my nose behind the cellphone as a meaning of shutting down any potential conversation.

He didn't say anything and went looking for a bag that was on the floor. I figured he needed to get something for the night, so I just shrugged and let him do. But, weirdly, he reached out for a black dress inside, tossing it over the bed.

Then, picking me up, he started to undo the buttons of my shirt without much explanation.

I watched him take it out and toss it on the floor, completely clueless.

'Hey…! Whatchu doing?'

'Dressing you up. We are going out.'

'Huh?! Where to?'

'Restaurant. I owe you a date, remember?'

'In your dreams! I am not in the mood.' I fell back to bed with a frown.

I was still pissed from before and thought he would be reacting just like myself by needing his time to cool off, but no.

'Do you really want me to leave?' He asked as I pouted.

'No... Stay.'

Unexpectedly, his hands pulled me by the legs causing my body to slid to a lying position over the sheets.

Then he laid down as well and passed my both legs over him, carefully pulling my weight over his body. His hand searched for my bra and grabbed it, pulling it out with expertise.

'What…? …Is got into you?!' I pushed him away using a bit of martial arts skills. He landed away from the bed, stumbling. Against all expectation he had his eyes squeezed, tears coming out from laughter.

He came closer to me again, his expression clear that he was really enjoying playing with fire, if not passionately aroused. His little mischief ended up making me smile, seing this he pulled me so I fell on top of him on the floor.

'So pretty when you get angry.' He purred in my ear, his voice pure honey while making sure my body was still pressed on his. ' Kiss me…' I pulled back to look at him, and saw that he was almost begging, his eyes locked on mine with all that sweet belonging that had the power to cast away all the shadows of my heart.

I forfeited, kissing him immediately and repeatedly. Heart now taken by the most sweet and turbulent emotions, I pressed my avid lips over and over his cheeks, his forehead, his neck, listening to his muffled groans and rapid breath, as closed his eyes with all abandon in the world. My fingers then dug in his hair, I pressed their tips at the back of his head and he shrugged. It was so obvious that my touch was causing a deep and extreme reaction, it mirrored a strong reaction in my body too.

And things would've been perfect from that moment on, and you'd guess what we would end up doing, if his intentions weren't to piss me off more than anything.

He jerked his head back, breathing rapidly. Then, regaining control he raised us both from the floor.

'…Baby?' My eyes widened in shock as he bent casually and picked up the dress that had fall to the ground with us.

He came from behind, pulled me by the shoulders and turned to our reflection in this large mirror on the wall.

'What the fuck…! Where did you get this slutty dress?' I bitched watching it get put on me. It was total bullshit though, the more I cared to look in the mirror, the more I saw that this black gown was really beautiful, but of course I wasn't in the mood to admit it.

'Impressions.' He replied with a nonchalant smile while zipping it up and looking at our reflection in the mirror. 'Ah, you look gorgeous on it.' He said as he kissed my bare skin through the open back of the dress.'Wait. There is more.' He said with a caress, turning on his heels.

'Carlos, what kind of effect you had on me?'

My anger was once again decreasing to zero at the touch of that loving hand and that innocent gaze.

He was gone for a bit before coming back with his arms filled with shopping bags. There were so many that there wasn't space over the bed for them all.

He started to pull the items out and I gasped in wonder:

Dresses, heels, bags and jewelry. A gold plated gun.

That kind of luxurious shit I loved so much, AND exactly what I would've bought myself. It was safe to assume that he put an insane amount of thought to pick it up just as an equally insane amount of cash.

The idea that someone could do such a thing for me left me speechless. I was feeling so happy, and at the same time embarrassed as fuck.

'T-thank you… This is…!' I could finally mutter after a while.

'It's to make up for all the things you lost in the fire.' He said, smiling widely at my reaction and placing a kiss on my burning cheeks. Since I still had the sling he kneeled and helped me put up the shoes.

On purpose, he touched and kissed me tenderly everywhere as he did so.

'Love to see you in heels.' He trailed adoring kisses on my leg.

'If you keep doing this, I am not sure we'll make it to the restaurant.' I sighed with frustration as his hot lips played on my inner thigh, feeling the arousal build up again.

At this he grinned quickly and pulled a serious face.

'Can't wait to get a little piece of me, huh? Get a hold of yourself, girl.' He teased and pushed me back, just enough to get me pissed again.

My eyes lit sinisterly, darting my beloved with a choleric glance. His smug grin widened, as it was thriving on my reactions. In his eyes passed an overwhelming flame of extreme passion he was quick to push back, but for the short moment it went out of control, was enough to send me the goosebumps. For a second, his forehead touched mine and all we did was breath very quickly while staring at one another.

I was trembling. Carlos hand stopped on my shoulder, feeling it. He inhaled deeply and swallowed some saliva, momentarily fighting himself to regain control.

I guess I was kind of expecting it when, out of nowhere he abruptly rose and left my side.

'Sorry babe. I think you were right and I do need some time to cool off too.' He mocked.

Jesus Christ! He knew how to push my buttons for best and for worst. Leaving me begging for him like that after all this provocation!

He walked towards the door but in the last moment laughed heartily at my expression. He quickly picked me in his arms, tossed me into bed, took off our clothes and made love passionately to me before I lost my patience again.

A while later, the gangster couple was lying together at the king size bed of the Saints' new property. His arms around the Boss, while her head rested on his chest, Carlos lit some Loa on a bulb. With a gesture of tender laziness and extenuated satisfaction, he passed it to his girl so she could enjoy a drag herself.

'Listen… I know this is too fast. But, with the life that you and I have, time goes by at a different speed.'

'Whatchu talking about?' The Boss asked softly as she blew some smoke, her voice puzzled.

Carlos sighed and stretched his arm to his jacket without breaking their embrace. He went straight for the inside pocket as if he knew exactly what he was looking for, or if he rehearsed what he was about to before. His hand, however, was shaking as he showed The Boss this small box covered in black velvet.

She gasped in surprise as he opened it and picked up her hand then slipped a diamond ring across her finger.

'Let's do this properly, right?' He kissed over her hand passionately and turned over to get more Loa, simply shifting while making himself comfortable.

Thought everything seemed casual about him, the Lieutenant's heart was pounding with all the expectation one can have about the other person accepting to be forever happy with you.

'Bueno.' The Boss replied, finally. He voice was strangely changed, and this time it wasn't out of fear to commit.

He moved his arm, giving her free access to his chest. One of his hands went on her back, he moved it up and down in small strokes.

And even if the room was in the dark, Carlos knew the Boss enough by now to tell just by the way she snuggled closer, how she was just as beyond herself joy as he was.

'Come.' The Boss said with a playful kiss. She sat in bed and started looking for their clothes in the floor. 'Let's go out.'

'Yeah, we need to celebrate.'

Across town, in a classic building, stood 'Le Fion du Pigeon', the most pricey restaurant in the High End district of Stilwater.

The place had all the class and bling from the old world: Marble statues sent straight from Italy, gold plated chandeliers, and of course the best of French culinary.

At that hour, though, the fancy staff seemed intrigued at the entrance of a young couple. Both were dressed in evening attire and expensive items from head to toe, actually, way too many items.

Both spoke Spanish (taking by their accent), the man was athletic and handsome. He had a fine purple shirt over formal pants. Its buttons were opened until halfway, revealing part of his chest and a thick chain of gold with a cross hanging from it. His attention was all on his girlfriend: A beautiful woman that, with those high sparklingly heels, stood quite taller than he did. She wore a tight black dress with a plunging neck line, and held a tiny designer bag. Anyone with some knowledge about brands could guess the fortune that was spent on it. She also seemed hypnotized by her companion, silently looking at him while he spoke to others while gently striking his arm. She also checked on her hand once, and kissed his cheek.

They came in without reservation, but the huge tip that was given to host the opened the way.

But very soon they started to draw attention from their table neighbors and waiters.

Both spoke loudly, laughing even louder at everything the other said.

They ordered almost everything on the menu. From booze to entrée, just to taste every expensive meal while leaving a mess over the table, without the slightest clue of what should be eaten together or not.

Not only that. They… Made out a lot. Very explicit tongue kisses, his hand sliding almost under her dress, between her thighs and way beyond the limits of the appropriate for a place like that. Muffled and provocative sounds from The Boss' part into Carlos' ear, were still loud enough to be heard. And taking by his significant shivers maybe her hand was 'casually' passing over something else as well.

By the looks on the staff's faces, they were more prone to call the cops rather than to take their order again.

'The place surely got emptier after they walked in…' One waiter pointed sourly to his colleague. 'Ok, I'll go this time…'

He walked towards their table:

'Please sir, I am to insist again that you keep it down or…'

'What do you mean we keep it down?' Carlos raised from his chair and pulled on his shirt as if readjusting it, but allowing the waiter a full flash of the piece stuck on the sides of his pants. 'Me and my girlfriend are just having a romantic dinner.'

With an apologetic smile, the man retreated immediately, muttering an excuse.

'You scared him.' Boss commented with a chuckle. 'Pass me that chocolate thing.'

She pointed to a frosty dessert and Carlos fed it to her himself. They were interrupted while another order was presented.

Carlos rubbed his hands in anticipation:

'Come on, let's taste this bad boy!'

As he grabbed his fork and inspected his fancy starter better, he seemed disappointed. 'Oh no. Look.'

'What is it?'

'It's raw, babe. What the fuck?' He pointed at his Carpaccio.

'Wow. With these prices, I'd expect things to be perfect, huh?' The Boss replied. 'We never got this kind of stuff at Freckle Bitch's.'

Carlos tapped on the shoulder of the waiter with scandalous familiarity:

'Yo buddy, I don't think you cooked it right…' He whispered indicating the think slices of raw meat on his plate. 'Could you take it back there and roast it again?'

'This is Carpaccio, sir. You're supposed to eat it that way.'

'Ah. You eat it… Raw?' Carlos pulled a face while he and The Boss repressed laughs. 'Ok. Thanks, I guess.'

The two Saints exploded with laughter as soon as the waiter turned, rolling his eyes with indignation.

'I didn't know it could be like this…' The Boss said.

'What, the food?'

'No. Life… I've never been happier. Ever.'

With ecstatic recognition, Carlos grabbed her hand and kissed it longly. Something behind The Boss called his attention, though. He thought he saw a familiar face.

'Wait, isn't that Gat over there?'

'Oh. That's right. And Pierce too.' The Boss turned to look.

'I wonder what they are doing here?' Carlos said, waving in their direction.

Chapter Text

We had been awake for hours in our room, just listening to the sounds of the summer rain thunder. The curtains were still down, the room plunged into comfy darkness.

Between happy chatter and lazy caresses, Carlos and l laid together, willing to postpone leaving bed for as much as possible. We were back at The Hideout. After the fire it was been fully refurbished.

A little music started to repeat itself, muffled and coming from the pocket of Carlos' jeans on the floor.

'No. Not again...' He complained as his cellphone started to ring for the second time around. Unable to ignore it again, he slid in bed with a pissed off grunt and stretched his arm towards the floor to retrieve the phone.

'Holla Maricon. Why don't you pick up anymore, like, ever?'

'Bruno, bitch, some of us have a life.' Carlos joked. 'I am with my lady so this better be important.'

'You forgot, hermano. Again. Today is the fifth, you are supposed to collect the cash from your share of the hoods.'

'Damn.' He sighed, looking regretfully at me lying down over the sheets in a lacy nightgown. 'Totally slip my mind. Shit.'

'I'll wait for you, we can go together.'

'Thanks Bruno. I am on my way.'

'Wait, let me fill up and buy some cigs before we go.' Bruno said as the purple Attrazione passed by a gas station.

'Don't take long. I am meeting The Boss later.' Carlos agreed lazily, parking the car.

While he filled the tank up, Bruno entered the gas station store do do his purchase. Instead, however, of going straight for the counter, he looked anxiously around as if he was expecting to find someone there.

'Hey.'

His gaze met a tall bearded man leaning over a pinball machine, in a red hat and a torn shirt. This man dropped the game immediately and walked towards Bruno, followed by a group of people equally dressed in red.

'In here.' The man in the trucker hat pointed to a nearby door with a sideways glance. It opened to a back alley so they could speak without been disturbed.

As soon as they had privacy Bruno looked away while he swallowed some saliva before starting. What he was about to say was difficult or at least made him very unease:

'Outside in the Attrazione. No other back up but me. I think it makes us even.'

The man seemed satisfied, but frowned after a short pause:

'Hold on. What the fuck with 'it makes us even? You think that you can just walk away owning us 5k?'

'I... I thought the deal was for...'

'...Half your debt that's right.'

'I don't have it... Now, but give me another week and...'

'...Right.' The Brotherhood Lieutenant shook his head with frustration. He turned his head to the other five members significantly.

'Wait! You guys told me if I gave you Carlos it should be...!' His sentence was cut short. The thugs surrounded him and twisted his arm behind his back.

'Tell you what: We'll take you along with your little friend for a ride then.'

'NO!'

Bruno kicked and twisted himself in an attempt to escape, while the rest promptly beat him back into submission. Carlos' best friend was in tears as they dragged him along. He didn't know exactly what they meant by that ride, but he knew there was going to be payback on The Boss and now, he was a part of it.

I waited for quite a while in front of Club Koi, but Carlos never came.

I looked up to the horizon and saw heavy clouds gathering and partially covering the sun, an unexpected buff of wind passed, taking leaves from the ground with it, making me shiver and button up my coat.

A drop of water fell on my nose, another came to join it and slid down my forehead.

I retreated under the cover of the roof, the raindrops multiplied, turning some spots in the asphalt darker.

It looked like a storm was on it's way.

30 minutes later...

My phone was ringing and after all that time waiting I grew pretty impatient when I saw the incoming call was from Carlos. If he was going to be so damn late, why didn't he call before?

'Carlos, where the fuck are you?' I answered, incarnating the forsaken girlfriend.

But oddly, there was a woman's voice and not his on the other side of the line:

'I think your people skills need some work sweetie.'

'Who the fuck is this?' I tensed up, immediately understanding that if someone else had his phone something went wrong with Carlos.

'Well, I just wanted to let you know that since you were nice enough to give my man a makeover, I should return the favor...don't worry, by the time we're through with him Carlos'll look just as handsome as Maero.'

To think of how, in such a small frame of time: One minute, a few seconds, everything can go down like this. All crumble without an explanation. You're just left to accept that, in a blink of an eye, what matters most can be gone.

'Jessica! Listen up you fucking bitch...!' I snapped as if she fatally stabbed me. 'You're fucking DEADyou whore! You're fucking dead!'

I was on some sort of auto-pilot. As soon as I hung up the phone my mind was desperately coming up with something, and I recalled already that Donnie was a member of The Brotherhood and a close friend of Maero's.

I knew the address of his garage so I frantically jumped on the car raced towards it.

He retreated with the fear of his life as he saw me kill my way towards the inside of his business, as if he saw death itself on the flesh.

It was safe to assume then, by all this fright, that bastard knew something and it wasn't a wasted trip.

I picked up a vise and beat up Donnie so much in the head and the legs, he had no other option but to decide to face between Maero's wrath and mine, and spit everything.

'They told me they were taking him for a ride at the docks...'

I left him half dead in his garage and ran back to the car while grabbing my phone in the same motion.

'GAT! I need back up! Everyone at the docks, they have Carlos!'

'Boss! Hang on! Where...? What the fuck is goin o..?!'

'I don't know! Jessica called!' I cut abruptly, all my senses concentrated into driving, in an absolute frenzy of dread, of escalated panic. I thought I had time, but The Brotherhood was already taking action.

'He will be dead! He will be dead!'

It was insanity, reality was altered.

Something in me was torn already, whispering that the cause was lost. The end of the world wouldn't be close to what I was experiencing then, behind that wheel. I drove around as fast as humanly possible, reminding myself I had barely an idea where I was going to but I had to get there fast, because Carlos was dying.

Instinctively, I was looking for the docks, but I was far across town. I tore through the jammed avenues by the oncoming land, almost failing to dodge an ambulance.

'He will be dead by the time you get there! He will be dead! Oh God, please! No, no, no!'

Each second felt as a death sentence. I had no clue if the direction I was taking was correct. Finally, after some random twists and turns I saw some indications to my destination.

The docks district was almost empty, and only the sound of police sirens at a distance seemed to break the calmness of the place.

I turned around the neighborhood more than once, looking for any sign of red color on the streets. Until, many minutes after, I finally spotted a Brotherhood truck. I looked inside for any signs of Carlos. But the tragedy was I didn't understand any of it until I saw something else at the back of the vehicle:

To my horror a human figure, dressed in purple, was chained to the back of that truck.

'I am coming Carlos, I am gonna stop the truck!' I yelled.

They were shooting back at me.

Viciously, but carefully not to hit him, I speed up and discharged my gun on the driver and the others in the car. I did everything as fast as possible so he wouldn't be dragged any further.

The truck stopped ahead on the road, pierced in a thousand holes and I hit the break. I left the car and started to run towards the man chained to the truck.

Across the district...

Unaware to The Boss and in a more discrete street, a red jeep drove around as fast as the one she followed. Carlos was slipping in a sort of semi-consciousness. He recalled the screams of his friend as they chained him to the back of a truck and the vehicle took off: How those bastards did it in front of him so he could foresee what was going to happen to him as well.

Then the jeep took off and the pain temporarily erased everything that happened before. With lightning speed he thought of The Boss. Of his brother.

'This is it. This is the end. I am gonna die now.' He said to himself, with that weird detachment that only the closeness of death can bring.

His body was nothing more than a single aching wound.

But then, Carlos heard police sirens, and shots.

'The cops are after us.' He still could reason. For a moment he felt a glimpse of hope and grasped to it. But to his despair the car accelerated further.

On purpose, the driver slid from left to right, wishing to increase the victim's impact on the ground.

As the truck took a hard turn, the Saint was thrown into the grass on the side of the road with intentional violence.

The last thing Carlos felt was that something on his ankle gave in, the chain broke as his heavily injured, unconscious body rolled down the hill for several meters and into the sewer canal below.

At that same time, on the other side of the district:

The Boss stopped, bending on her knees.

His clothes were torn beyond recognition.

What was in front of her could not be living anymore.

Most of the flesh was ripped away like it was scrubbed by an iron brush, but this bloody mess still had a torso, part of the limbs and what used to be a head.

It looked like a meatball, a puppet, or something that was too damaged to be even called a body.

The fact that the fleshy thing covered in blood still had a head, most of it's arms and legs, suggested that this macabre and incomplete jigsaw once belonged to a human being.

I remember hearing continued screams in my head, my own screams. Something seared in all of my self. Carlos. What have they done to you?

Through a fog, Gat unexpectedly running in my direction with a strange expression of pain and shock. He held me in place like doctors hold enraged mental patients, trying to knock me out. But he couldn't.

In my mind, behind the shattering craziness all I thought about was of Carlos pain, and that I was responsible for it. I provoked Maero, he payed the price.

I think I ran back to the car and tore away. I also think, though I am not really sure, that I walked, walked for a long time. Tears, surely. Maybe I sat at a fountain, or next to the river because the presence of water seemed to be there at some point. Though why? I couldn't say. I only suffered terribly for the first hours. Then it all faded, I remember walking and walking again, but it was my body simply that kept on going. My soul seemed gone with him.

And blurred like all the moments that followed this tragedy, so was reality.

I was gone for a very long time.

Brotherhood's Hideout:

We'll find Jessica and Maero in the living room of their crib. She was siting at the edge of an old armchair, telling the gang leader about Donnie been attacked. Turned out he succumbed to his injuries while been rushed at the hospital.

Matt, Maero's best friend and this other woman of the gang came in, holding a laptop. Besides being an active member of The Brotherhood, the tattooed blond also played the guitar for a famous Rock group.

'Maero, check this out.'

'Fuck. Not now Matt, Donnie just died.' Jessica replied. 'We're off for today.'

'Not for this you're not! One of our boys was taking a walk through the Dome and filmed something you guys will be definitely glad to see...' The Feed Dog's guitarist seemed excited.

'Well, what is it?' Maero said, intrigued. He and Jessica got closer behind Matt, their heads touching so they could see it in the screen.

The quality of the video was awful and it didn't help that the weather was so dark, but they could see a defeated silhouette sitting on the Adept Way bridge, legs close to the body and leaning helplessly against the iron bars, touching it with the skin of her face like it was a dear presence.

A few pedestrians were hastily passing by as the rain became a true downpour, opening their umbrellas or improvising one with a newspaper or magazine.

The camera zoomed into the face of the leader of the Saints.

She closed her eyes, and didn't move, merely raised the collar of her leather jacket and stood still, large drops of rain flowing down from the hair into her make up smudged face.

Maero smiled broadly and tapped Matt's shoulder in satisfaction. Jessica was laughing her ass out and hysterically repeating.

'Play it again!'

'I hope you learned the lesson.' Maero spat at the screen, caressing the large scars on his face. Those were a 'gift' from The Boss and the local Nuclear Power Plant. 'You look less cocky when you are wiping for the pool cleaner who was banging you, you fucking bitch.'

The next morning, Saints HQ:

Cries of rage shook the underground to its core.

The gang members were restless. The worst possible insults were echoing through the underground, claiming vengeance for Carlos. The rain outside never stopped, like a constant reminder of their loss.

As Gat just came in to change his soaked clothes, people gathered around the Second in Command and grabbed him successively by the arm in a request for news.

He shook his head negatively to Pierce and Shaundi, who were organizing a searching mission with their crew.

Shaundi's face was contorted with sadness. Eyes swollen and red from crying, and so was Pierce's.

Only Gat seemed to, at least in appearance, have his shit together.

He spent the whole day and night out looking for The Boss, unable to predict what she could've done next in such a state. Johnny contacted Max in the middle of the night, in the hope that Payne's remarkable wit would come up with something. The ex-cop, alarmed and heartbroken by the news, had joined the Saints on their search but with no success.

So far every effort was proven in vain, when, without warning and any fuss, The Boss herself came back home.

As she walked pass the hallway calmly to her room without a word and like nothing happened, her presence created understandingly some commotion.

Johnny ran upstairs, imposing the others to remain in place with a gesture.

He found The Boss sitting in bed, completely soaked.

'Take off these clothes.' He was surprised, and insisted. 'You gonna get sick.'

She didn't even blink, and answered in a voice totally devoid of emotion.

'No, I'm all right.'

She kept sitting there, blank expression, drops of rain dripping from her nose and hair.

Johnny slowly took one step back, uncomfortable. It was like an iron hand was gripping his heart.

It suddenly hit him, for the first time, that she wasn't the invincible entity he always thought her to be. You had to see such a transition to believe it.

The years they spent together gave him the false conviction she was invulnerable to anything and impervious to weakness. Like nothing could bend her.

But now he simply understood that this was a misconception. His tough friend and iron willed boss wasn't standing in front of him now.

He was staring at a totally fucked up, defeated person.

'God. What the fuck happened to you? Fucking Brotherhood! How can I help you now Boss? What can I do? I can't stand seeing you like this' His heart was flooding with compassion and sadness for the loyal friend that was always at his side, and that he loved so much.

He took one step towards her and removed her soaked leather jacket.

'Gimme that. You gotta be freezing.'

He never knew what to say or do in such situations, apart from practical help.

So he simply kneeled down and took off her high heels, she let him do as he pleased and didn't react. Only when he looked at her feet, he noticed that the strap dug into the flesh from all the walking and ripped it open. She didn't seem to be aware of any of it though.

'Here Boss.'

He hugged her waist with one arm, easily lifting her and heading towards the bathroom, opening the door with his free hand.

They both stood up in the tub, he was fully dressed but got in too, still holding her up from behind just in case she would slip, and turned the red knob all the way to make the water temperature as high as possible.

She leant one arm on the tiles and stood there, floppy posture, Gat had the impression he was no longer holding a human, but a puppet.

He pushed her carefully towards the flow and let the water do it's job and warm her up.

'We're going to take care of you now.' He whispered, affectionate, as he pulled back the wet hair falling on her forehead.

He didn't bother saying anything else. He knew she was in shock, it was more important to dry her up and put her to sleep.

He thought of asking Shaundi to help him, but dismissed this thought soon. No, no one else in the gang should see her like that.

He grabbed a towel and wrapped it around her body, then started to remove her wet clothing from underneath it. When she was reasonably dry, he stretched one arm to grab a bathrobe hanging from a hook in the wall.

'I'm not going to look.' He said a bit awkwardly, even if he knew she probably wouldn't listen to it.

He tossed the towel on the ground and put the robe's sleeves one by one, wrapping the string on the waist to close it. Gat then grabbed another dry towel sat her back in bed.

'Now let's dry up and then you go to sleep. I will give you some pills, ok?'

He saw her nodding and started to gently rub the strands on the fibers, his hands so huge it covered her head entirely.

He gave her a narcotic with a huge serving of whisky and gently put her back in bed.

Finally, he changed his clothes and got himself ready to sleep, but his mind kept him awake in spite of all tiredness. He wondered if that night was going to ever end, at all.

The Boss saw someone lying next to her over the covers and for a second her mind was tricked, she jumped a bit out of sleep, only to discover Johnny's two colored hairstyle. She sunk her head painfully, and the movement on the mattress made him wake up.

'Did it really happen, Gat?' She asked, stoned dumb from all the pills.

Johnny felt a discharge of pain jolt across his chest at that question, but simply nodded slowly and sadly. 'We're here for you.'

'I want the body retrieved. He needs a proper funeral.' The Boss stated without emotion.

'I am on it.' He assured, but from the blank stare in her eye Gat understood she wasn't listening anymore.

Wow it was hard to write this chapter since I absolutely hate the 'Red Asphalt' mission in SR2. But you know there will be a twist to this story so hold on tight. Please review! :3

Chapter Text

Warning! Violent content ahead, if you think it might trigger you, sorry, please skip the chapter.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

'Boss? Boss..?! Are you there?' Shaundi's voice insisted on the other side of the line. I made a use of picking up the phone without saying a word, and hanging off just like that. But she called me over and over.

'This better be fucking important, what the hell!' I almost yelled, in my usual joyful moods. But I trusted Shaundi's intelligence to know that she wouldn't bother me for no reason, so I waited.

'Jessica.' She said simply, confirming my guessing.

At that name, the old wound was open again. I was praying for the news to be good.

'I'm at a parking lot. The bitch almost ran over me with her car. She is at the bank, making a deposit. Hurry Boss.'

I didn't see the slight inconvenience in having to start a hostage situation inside a bank for the prize we had our eyes on. Not mine or Gat's first bank robbery, that's for sure. Granted, the cops and the press would be in our asses for months, but if that was the price to pay to put my hands on the one responsible for Carlos' suffering then it was quite cheap.

Gat and I went after her on our own. We bursted into the bank and used her as a hostage. It wasn't difficult to spot Jessica and her bright red hair between the clients.

Not after an unfriendly encounter with the Feds that I don't feel the need to describe for now, we shoved Maero's girl to the trunk of her own car.

I tore as fast as I could towards the Mission House. If we wanted to pull this plan I just made in my mind right, then we would have to hurry. To be honest, I don't know how I came up with it so fast, by improvise. Turns out, unfortunately, that those kind of ideas have always come naturally to me.

'You got the wrong person, sweetheart.' She started as we went our way down the stairs of the Hideout, in a neutral tone. Surprisingly, there was none of the arrogance I knew before, the two times we spoke before that. It wasn't friendly either, perhaps out of fear it would be too of a giveaway that she was trying to bullshit us.

I ignored her and saw that Gat shrugged at my side. I was sure he also sensed that she was trying to act on a clear head and take us for a ride, or plain negotiate her way out. And that she didn't had much time, that depending on what she told us before we reached the insides of the Hideout, would also depend her fate.

'I just fuck him. I didn't order it, you know?' Jessica continued and her voice was calm, almost conciliatory. 'Matt was the one behind all of it. Your boyfriend Carlos' death was his idea.'

At the allusion of Carlos, at the idea that this bitch just pronounced that dear name, all the numbness I've experienced throughout those days forfeited. I could feel, for the first time after a while, my heart accelerating with enormous hate. My will was to strangle that whore right there. But then, I thought, still struggling to regain my cool, that what I had in mind for her was far worst.

'Look. There's not need to pretend nothing happened. But you can still make a huge profit out of this. I could give you Matt and a share of his personal profit and we call it a day.'

As we approached the Purgatory, I noticed that Jessica discreetly took something out in her hand, trying to hide it.

'What's that on your hand?' I rested my head against the wall, laughing convulsively. My chest was full of wicked joy, tears in my eyes (I was laughing so hard) when I identified what the object was: An engagement ring.

'Oh! You were engaged...!'

I rolled the golden circle between two fingers, then closed my palm around it tightly. 'This is getting better and better. I knew you were more than his bottom bitch, although we all know, you really deserved no better. But... He really must like you, I mean, if you guys are going to, sorry; were going to get married...! I came after the right person then. Thank you Jessica!'

Now, I am about to burst you bubble if you thought so far that I was simply a victim of society, and that my tragic life is the sole responsible for me making a career in a street gang. As much as I would prefer you to like me because you would think that, deep down, I am a good person since I am loyal to my loved ones and help the people of our hoods, I can't mislead you to get the wrong idea.

Maybe it's ok to do petty crimes or even robbery if you don't have other way to survive, but did you really think that someone can make it all the way to the top like I did if they don't have what it takes? Sorry my friend, good kids don't turn to heavy crime and do the things that I do, and good people certainly don't consider doing what I did next, even in the face of pain:

One of the most unfair things in the world that've always loathed and punished with death in our gang was sexual violence.

I knew by experience how terrible it was, but when it came to hate, I for sure wasn't above recycling.

I won't lie and say that I feel remorse for it now. That bitch, she had it coming. Anyway, what's done, it's done isn't it.

I don't know how I actually brought myself to watch it, or being more specific, to film everything with my phone. After all, the sight of it was enough to trigger one of the worst memories of my life. The only explanation could be that Carlos' loss was messing with my reason, it was stronger than anything then.

Some scenes remain in your mind forever, either because they have traumatized you, either because they're are simply too much to be tossed into oblivion and stashed with your other regular, unimportant memories. Even for someone like me.

The memory of what I did to Jessica Parish would remain stuck inside my brain forever, until as we speak. Not that I regret it, but it's quite annoying when it pops out of nowhere, for instance when I am talking about something that reminds me of it somehow, or when I am relaxed and allow my mind to drift. Frozen like a statue or a movie still, this very specific image of that afternoon in the Hideout got forever carved in my brain, as an indestructible monument to my motherfuckingness.

In the half shadow of the trunk, back where she was in an unspeakable state, she stared at me for a rapid moment. I only could see one of Jessica's blue eyes, since the other was hidden behind a curtain of red sweated hair glued to her forehead. However, I would never see such a look of insane hurt, anger and hate again. It passed right through me, along with physical pain, as if it could pierce my skin and my bones.

'You…!' All the strength she had left, she used to say this in a gasp. Jessica was sobbing, and each tear from that broken woman was for me. I thrived on them.

I flicked my fingers and tossed my lit cigarette on her face, and simply reached for the door of the trunk with despise.

'Did you really think we were going to let you walk away?'

Hands steady, I banged the door close coldly and jogged to the driver's seat. Gat, as usual, was already inside, calmly waiting to watch my back on the next mission.

I turned the keys hastily in the contact and hit the gas, turned the wheel and slid the vehicle with the shape of a half moon. The smoke from the tires covered our vision briefly, but the car had already left the street of the Hideout and gained the road with intense speed.

'Where to now, Boss?' My friend asked, all support, his straw between his lips.

'Do you think this ride is too nice for the Demo Derby, Johnny? Maero is competing tonight. I say, we go pay our respects at the Arena.'

First it was Jessica, unawarely crushed to death by her boyfriend's truck.

Roughly one week later, followed Matt.

One night after a Feedogs concert, the famous guitarist went missing, and was found by a couple of Goth kids. His hand (the one he used to play) was chopped off. The body was left in front of a tattoo parlor inside the Brotherhood's territory.

With that, the gangster underworld lost control and tossed any existing rules to the wind.

Street gangs were never famous for their courtesy or humanity with each other, however, unless there was a huge beef between them, some 'turning the head the other way' wasn't uncommon. Sparing energy and bullets, or police attention.

Like, for instance, if one guy from the other gang is doing his thing and not interfering with your business, you don't shoot him. Personal matters aside, there was an unspoken "no shooting rule" unless you were on a mission. Something like good manners between criminals.

None of this, of course, applied to the Brotherhood.

A member of the red faction crossing the same sidewalk as a Saint was more than a reason to get shot.

The Boss made it clear to the crew to shoot on sight any vehicle, store, ally, costumer or member of the Brotherhood. Truth is, the crew wouldn't have it differently either. It wasn't about business, like with The Samedi, for instance. No. This war was fueled by the hate of two families who've lost loved ones to each other.

It would only end when one side was destroyed.

Week after week, the vendetta from both sides escalated beyond the limits of total madness.

And raid after raid, the Saints had the upper hand. The enemy, cornered like a wounded wolf, was slowly forced to retreat to the abyss while trying to defend itself in the most extreme ways.

Stilwater was thorn by gang war and things got so out of control that Troy himself gave orders forbidding the cops to interfere.

Some people called him a coward, but in reality he simply knew The Boss, and the Saints: It would only stop when the Brotherhood was done for. He would let it happen, after all, it wawould be one less street gang left for the PD to fight.

Days later...

'Take the guys and the guns. We're finishing everything tonight, Gat.'

Gat got up, surprised, but put on his glasses and threw in a shirt. He wasn't expecting The Boss to be the one to wake him up, but if the matter was avenging Carlos and going for a blood bath on The Brotherhood, well, he wasn't wasting another second.

'Finally will fuck them up for good.' He guaranteed, picking up his favorite rifle. Johnny showed his teeth in anger, between a smile of a dream fulfilled and a death treat. He and the Boss started to load up on ammo.

'What about that dipshit of Maero?'

'I'll deal myself.' She replied with impatience.

'I will keep by her side. She is in no condition of doing this, she might get herself killed.' Gat sworn internally.

What do I recall of that infamous night we took over The Brotherhood's territory? Not much. Again, I can only but give you my side of that gruesome play, full of missing acts. But then again, have you ever been hurt there where it hurts most? I had, time and again. Lyn, Eesh, and now Carlos. But with him, it was worst. It seemed like all that was left was this worst part of my self: Violent and resentful. Cruel like I've been on the first days I joined this gang and had to torture, kill and destroy the city to prove myself to Julius.

A fleet was outside waiting for us.

When I banged the door on my side of the vehicle, as Gat insisted on driving, our plan was to hit their turf without a warning in the middle of the night.

Before starting the car he hesitated and slip something heavy and metallic into my palm:

'I am sorry. Pierce found it today at a pawn shop.'

I watched and squeezed the object in my hand, the edges sinking into my engagement ring: It was Hector's cross. The last time I saw it, it was on the chest of a living Carlos.

I slipped the golden chain on: From that day on, that cross should never leave my neck.

'Let's get it done! Death to The Brotherhood!' I screamed poking my gun in the window and firing rounds in the air.

A multitude of shots echoed mine, our shared will to kill in perfect sync.

Following us a good hundred of our kind. We carried everything we had, rifles, RPGs, and a chopper. But most of all, we carried the urge that there was a debt to be called with The Brotherhood.

The certitude of victory started to slowly melt into anxious doubt, then hopeless panic.

The Brotherhood leader saw more and more of his men get hit at every second. Every time he turned his head a red clad figure was falling to the ground, itself starting to present nothing but his gang members over it. Some Brotherhood trucks, coming as the last reinforcements where hit by RPGs, as there were Saints strategically hiding over the rooftops. The last men standing dropped their weapons and raised their hands in defeat.

A cry of satisfaction shook the purple nation: The Brotherhood surrendered!

Their cause was lost, even though they started this war on top of their game, but this other, underestimated and washed up gang ended up just taking all, and that was nothing Maero could do about it. It was time to admit with fury. They were done.

Spiting, sweated and hideous with anger and fear, Maero decided his last hope for survival was to accept the unthinkable and retreat.

Still proud, he shoot his way out and took shelter inside their hideout. The Saints had destroyed most of the building with fire, one could spot large clouds of smoke spreading within.

With much effort, he managed to shoot his way in and sneak himself unseen through the staircase. He closed the door as he entered and rested his hands on his knees to regain his breath.

'The harder part is done!' He thought with bitter relief, grabbing the steel. 'Now if only I can barricade myself at the garage.'

The gangster barely started the long way down, a shot made him duck out of reflex.

He understood he wasn't alone in those stairs. Maero turned back, shooting and fulminating everything he saw below.

Trash bags, empty cardboard boxes. But then, as he stopped to reload, came a figure.

As their eyes crossed the bulky gang leader stopped suddenly. His eyes were then animated by such a deadly hate that it made one understand better why he hesitated, and decided to change his direction.

He aimed expertly towards his enemy, the one responsible for all that was happening. He tried to get her in the head. It hit the wall behind, filling her shoulder with white concrete debris. The Boss had moved at the last moment, missing the shot by inches and instantly shooting back.

It was his time to dodge by a fraction of second. With a loud scream Maero took the risk and counter the attack, insanely shooting although he couldn't hit his opponent, who took cover scrambling in between the steps.

As soon as she got up, there was a hail of bullets in his direction, one hitting his right arm.

Then a demented voice echoed through the stairway in a way that would chill anyone's blood:

'MAEROOOOO!' It translated that insanity, that hate that can stop at nothing and that will destroy and kill, at the expense of whatever it takes.

Now in total despair Maero started to clumsy run with all strength left down the stairs.

In a frenzy, he pushed on. The smoke grew thicker at each step, there was an intoxicating smell but luckily for him reducing a bit of the overall visibility.

With effort, he pushed the metal door that lead to the underground of the hideout. The Brotherhood grew some weed on it, but fire had taken upon the room. There was a large space where also were parked the very last monster truck of his once impressive collection. The one that crushed Jessica, and that Maero couldn't destroy despite all the pain associated with it. He had kept it but never drove it since that night, out of sorrow and respect for the only woman he truly loved in his life. But now, it was his only ticket out of there. Passing through the knocked out plants and broken pots, he headed towards the vehicle.

One look around though made him stumble once more in shock. He realized that something else was being burned there, besides the drugs. A pile of bodies.

Roughly gathered together and set on fire on purpose, most of them barely consumed yet.

Several holes were carved on the wall above them.

'Machine gun.' He guessed with expertise. There were no signs of fighting back, the weapons were on the floor and most of them had the back of their skulls split open. As if somebody got all from behind, while no one was expecting. 'The bitch executed those who surrendered.'

Maero reacted with a few steps backwards, then turned in the opposite direction and ran, using that small window to flee and live, although his eyes were still having a hard time leave the horrid scene.

Following his survival instincts he entered and started the monster truck. It was massive enough, he hoped, to tear in all speed and force his way out of that hell.

But his eyes then got a glimpse a living human form coming out of the stairs and through the smoke. She was covering her face with her shirt to avoid breathing in.

The way was clear ahead to freedom, but he hit the reverse.

The huge truck stopped, accelerating in place with a burnout and the ominous sound of the engine echoed through the room.

He mentally measured the distance between The Boss, who guessed his intentions and started to run for cover, and himself.

It was his last chance, but he still could do it. The last opportunity to be a Goliath against a David. Run over her. End everything right there. At least he would have that, to pay himself and Jessica justice.

Quickly, deadly, Maero let go of the break and went in her direction. She jumped through some glass doors, falling on her back. Her opponent missed her by a few good meters but he was already maneuvering around in a semi circle, ready to strike again before she could get out.

Without any time to think The Boss aimed for his front tires and shot, causing the Monster Truck to lose stability and direction. It hit, turned and went breaking through a concrete pillar while the driver's body clashed violently against its interior.

Maero's hand appeared first out of the wreckage, followed by his injured head, with blood flowing over his forehead and one of his eyes. He somehow still managed to slowly open the door and crawl out.

The Boss was already close by staring at him from above with her gun in hand. She leaned over to the Brotherhood leader as she had something important to confide about.

I kneeled close to him, like we were old friends and I was confiding to him. I wanted to make sure every single word of what I had to say next would sink in.

'I made you crush Jessica. That's right Maero. But not before taking her back to the Purgatory and ordering every single guy in my gang to bang that bitch.' I hissed calmly. 'Of course I caught all that on tape. Your boy Matt made a little video of me once, remember Maero?' I drew my phone and turned the screen towards him. 'Wanna see my little video for you?'

I thought that I was going to have to force him to watch it, but he snapped the phone from my hands convulsively.

As the video played Maero contorted his face painfully and opened his mouth wide like he was going to scream... But nothing came out.

'Any last words?' I asked, grinning at his reaction.

He mustered enough strength to answer what I presumed to be: 'Go to hell!'

But with a clean shot I interrupted his phrase.

'Sorry. I didn't catch that.' I mocked bitterly.

It was done, finally.

Gat arrived just a few moments after that, and silently took me in a ride back home.

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Hard chapter to write, sorry for all the violence but I feel it was needed and in context. I want to finish this story even if it's not the main focus anymore. Next chapter is ready and will be published soon.

Review and see you again soon! :3

Chapter Text

You often see it in the movies, or read it on the novels. The raging pain, the ancient greek play kind of despair that follows in this kind of situation. I will tell you what, with me it didn't happen like this at all.

A tragedy doesn't destroy you on the spot, all the contrary. If you expect suffering to overflow immensely, and then to magically stop, you are wrong. It never does. You cope with it, somehow, and drag it for the rest of your life. It gets bearable but never leaves. The very instinct of self preservation. Half of you wants to die but the other part wont allow it.

Cheers.

You just have to drag your ass through this limbo.

Did I feel pain? It's even hard to remember. Now, don't get me wrong. Carlos' death was the worst thing that has ever happened to me, and boy, did life fuck me in every possible hole before.

But you see, I was already dead by then, in some sort. No one can go through that kind of thing and make it to the other side of the tunnel as the whole human being they once were. He changed my life and a part of me, I would never be whole again after that.

But I just had to keep going.

Sadness?

I guess yeah, it was there all the time, like an everlasting background music, playing on a loop in the back of my mind, so much that I've got used to it. I'm sorry for having nothing more than a few flashbacks to share.

It's just that every memory about that time is somewhat imprecise, or blurred. I don't remember the body count, but the public opinion wasn't my best friend back then.

I do remember one thing that was particularly hard though: waking up, that exact moment where your mind starts to be aware after sleep. For one split of a second you actually think that things are all right. Then this crawling, sinking feeling of sadness... A knot in the stomach...

He was gone. This wasn't just a god damn concept. It was a loss, a hole, an empty space I knew it couldn't be fulfilled anymore, no matter what happened from now on.

He would never be downstairs again, speak, love or breath again. We would never have a fight again, or laugh together at a restaurant. Only 32 and six feet under the earth, unaware and deaf to all that was life. And on top of that, I knew it was all my fault. I was the one who killed him, in a way or another. If I had killed Maero straight instead of wanting to making fun of him before. If I had left the gang before. What only if.

But the only thing left for me now was the Saints. I grasped on it with all my strength and tried my best to keep the business going smoothly. In the first moments the only thing that mattered for me was to get revenge and justice done. But the worst part was after I got my hands on Jessica and Maero. Only a tiny part of my fury died with them, the rest I would carry with me forever. For the first time I got it: I could kill everyone responsible for his death, from Jessica to the guy driving that truck, it would not bring him back. Nothing would. Then there was no goal left. I really started to sink.

I had nightmares. Most of them about finding Carlos' mutilated body in my bed, or in the trunk of Jessica's car. The impression of those were so anguishing that it was more than enough to keep me trying hard not to fall asleep. Sleep deprivation fucks with your head, of course. But, can you really fuck that which is already fucked?

I would smoke a cigarette in the darkness of my room (couldn't bear too much light or noise during this time), feeling like a puppet, or a marionette. Who was there, pulling my strings? I have no idea. Maybe a vague preservation device like I've mentioned before. I would talk but it wasn't me talking, was there but wasn't there at the same time.

Shaundi was the only person, apart from Gat, that had permission to enter my room. At first she would try to cheer me up somehow but I was in no mood to listen (and a couple of times even yelled the shit out of her). But she wouldn't shy away from that- she would be very understanding and would just help me around with my day. I didn't kick her out completely for two reasons. First, I knew she meant good and was truly concerned about me, I liked that she would mother me more than I cared to admit. Second, there was some reason left in me to know she was necessary and that I was no longer responsible for myself. One night I mixed Loa and scotch, so much that I decided to cool it off with a shower. Have I mentioned how the bathrooms of the hotel were under renovation? An old bathtub was still there, and the improvised hose connected to a pump that would make the meanings of a shower. I was so wasted it was impossible to take the shower standing up. I just let the water flow and fell back to relax. The thing is that I blacked out from the lack of sleep for a few minutes without realizing. Longer that I thought because the water was next to my nose when realization hit me. I tried to reach out for the hose, at least to toss it away from the tank, if i couldn't close the knob.

Except the body wouldn't follow it and I fell on my back again, water coming in everywhere, nose, mouth, ears.

Shaundi was in the bedroom and must have heard the 'thud' in the water, luckily the door lock never worked.

To cut it short, she took my head out of water, pulling it by the hair (so much she was in a hurry to save me) in time to prevent me from drowning.

Like she would say, 'good times'.

Max came to see me too. He seemed devastated for me and gave me this long and comforting hug. One that only someone who has already tasted loss in the same terms could. I politely cut our conversation short though. To be honest I never thought I deserved anything coming from someone as he. But mainly because in the back of my mind, I told myself Carlos wouldn't like him visiting me.

And Johnny… Ah, Gat. In the times of darkness even if you don't believe in luck anymore, you have to call yourself lucky if you have a friend like him.

Gat would come in, taking his lunch along with mine, and keep me company, most of the time without saying a single word. He was more than busy having to care for his and my share of the business as I found myself reduced to this, but still would show up everyday, take some microwaved crap out of a plastic bag, remove the lids and hand me a fork. I was grateful for this. His presence was never invasive on my sorrow, and acted like some sort of anchor that kept me a bit in touch with reality. At this point I don't think I would have been able to bear anyone else for long. But that was Johnny for you. He wouldn't give me crap or over compassion, we were often on the same page about everything in life. We understood each other so well, no explanations were necessary. He respected my silences, or maybe, just understood them better than others (as he lost Aisha that same year).

Then in a sign of pure friendship, he would join me for a bottle of whisky, every night from six to ten. Needless to say that was my favorite time of the day. If I could say something was my favorite then.

One time, I remember, we were sitting on the floor next to the bed, when our eyes met. It was like he was speaking to me "here we are, two poor motherfuckers who fucked up the lives of those who dared to love us. And now are dead because of us". Even if back then I was minding my own shit too much to care about anything else, I actually got out of myself for a sec to look at his pain. Poor Johnny.

I remember clinging my glass on his glass and answering bitterly:

'Yeah man. They were too good for us anyway. They are beyond pain now. At least we can give each other that. We've got what we deserved:' And then I swallowed my scotch to hide this sudden, uneasy feeling. 'We have to live with that.'

This was at the same time our only relief and a curse.

He sighed, saw his eyes get lost in a distant point while staring at the wall, then nodded back and emptied his glass in a one motion drag.

Over our heads, the afternoon rain was falling over the pipes of the underground.

How much I hated it.

Months later...

One night, I was out, as usual, to collect money from our hoods. It was half way through a 20 minute drive to the Marina district when, through the open window of the car, a buff of fresh wind hit my face. Leaves rolled carried by the wind as more and more drops of water started to hit the front window of my Bootlegger, making little sounds.

I quickly closed my window to avoid getting wet.

'Can't have it with those rainy nights anymore.' I thought, lighting a cig to distract myself.

Indeed, another storm (so common that season), was about to fall over Stilwater.

I turned on my tracks with a risky maneuver, and headed in the opposite direction. I couldn't deal staying out with that damn rain falling. It was time to go home and numb it out.

The problem was that when I drank too much, there was a fine line between fleeting relief and the involuntarily opening of the gate of everything that I fought to keep at bay.

That night, as the rain worsened, the bottle got emptier and I ended up dashing towards my room, everything in my being viscerally wishing to hide somewhere dark where no one could find or see me.

As put together all the ingredients of yet another loa n' scotch cocktail, my brain mixed stuff as well: Pain, self loath and despair. My demons started to jump out of their boxes, and man, were they good in finding a way to make me go under...

It was one of those moments of blind craziness, when you lose it and see everything dark...

I was having a little dialogue with myself that, funny enough, still remember every word of it:

'Well. Aren't you proud now? After killing him the best you could do was crushing a girl under a car.

After getting the whole gang to...

No.

Stop it.'

I needed something to divide my attention. I frantically reached for the bottle but, being brain dumb, fucked up drunk, only caused it to splash loudly on the floor.

'That bitch had it coming.

Yeah, yeah, tell yourself excuses all you want, but you know what he would think...'

I covered my ears, as if so that voice inside would leave me alone. I shifted and turned, unaware that I was now squashing broken glass under my skin.

'Carlos wouldn't approve of that.

No. For fuck's sake...!

Carlos would never had been ok with this.

Stop it, seriously. Don't go there.

Remember that look Max gave you the night you two broke up?

Yeah but don't bring it up now.

Disappointed. Changed. Carlos would've looked at you like that.

Stop. Stop. For fuck's sake leave it be.

He would maybe... stop loving you for this.

I can't take it. Anything, God, anything but that.

How sad is that you spent all of your life starving for love, finally got it, and then killed it by your own fault?

I know, I know. Now I am stuck with nothing but hate. It will be my punishment, I deserved it, and much worst!

You stupid bitch. Did you think that someone like you could deserve anything other than hate...?!'

I felt Gat's hand on my sweated hair. I shrunk tighter into a fetal position, too fucked up to care if he was seeing me wiping and sobbing like a little cry baby.

I assumed that I was speaking out loud and that he heard everything:

'Don't be stupid.' He whispered with affection, and shook his head from side to side slowly. 'Never would he. Carlos was too crazy about you, he accepted you just as you are! Just like Eesh, she accepted me.'

'But Gat, I…'

'No but. He knew you very well, Val. He loved you exactly as you are anyway.'

I sighed, convinced, and it was like the weight of a pyramid was lifted from my chest. He would have forgiven me. Yes, he loved me. After all, if I was ever loved like this that meant I couldn't possible be completely unworthy of love, in spite of of how low I've gone. All it was left now, was sadness and guilt, but it was a sweeter feeling, anyway. Like knowing you had something so good, it made me grateful despite of the pain. If anything having been loved like that gave me the strength to keep going, what we had was something I would never lose even if I lost him.

And now that the dominating insanity left, there was room to notice the the sensations on my body, and also my intoxicated state. I rushed to the bathroom immediately and vomited my guts on the toilet, it was awful but it made me feel a lot better.

When I left the WC I felt like a whole different person.

It was like I flushed a part of my demons along with that disgusting, greenish goo I puked.

Gat threw me a towel to wipe my face on, visibly relieved.

'Thanks for everything.' I said, heartfelt.

'You'll see.' He spoke from experience. 'It's gonna get better now.'

I sighed heavily, trusting his wisdom, and he concluded:

'Life still have good things in store for you, Boss.'

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I enjoyed writing this chapter very much. In fact, it was the first chapter that was ever written for this story. As a message to those going through hard times: Life still has good things in store for you! All can change in a blink of an eye, even when you are at a place where it's impossible to believe so. I say from experience. :3 Next chapter is in progress. Review!

Chapter Text

Now I was back on my feet. Life and its events were starting be of interest again.

Colors were returning, even if underneath the ashes there was a wound that couldn't be healed. There was still an eventual dark moment here and there where I missed him more than I could handle (actually I missed him every second to be honest), but Gat was right: Things, were looking up. I understood that even if I would never be the same, that didn't mean I could not be happy again.

Since that realization the other night, I felt much better and got it that Carlos had left me one last gift before his parting. His love helped me to cure most of my darkest self esteem issues. Without a single doubt, I know I am not a good person, but that doesn't mean I am not worthy of love. If anything, I had better integrated my dark side, accepted better who I was. That of course, gave me a shitload more of confidence, so I decided to take advantage of that and reconnect with an old 'friend' of the Saints: Mr. Vogel.

It wasn't as much for revenge as it was for Ultor being pretty much everything that stopped us from having total power in this city. I also envied his loot, and of course having to bring down such a prick in the process of getting it was going to be of enjoyment.

That's how we decided to take things to the next level…

I gathered the guys. We sat together at the table in the game room the whole afternoon, around some Freckle Bitch's and Loa, while we decided what was the best way to get rid of the motherfucker.

I sensed that everybody was kind of eager to screw him. While no one had direct business with Vogel, it was a popular opinion that he deserved a bullet up his ass. Dane was like a fly, it couldn't hurt on his own but was so freaking annoying that it should be a pleasure to squash it.

'We could buy his secretary into giving his schedule, then get some Saints hired as his employees.' Pierce suggested, opening his notebook. 'Then, we jack their security system and...'

I heard Gat sigh at my side and lean back on his chair.

If I wasn't chewing on my Chicken Bazoom I would've told him to stop this complicated scheme right there. 'We were just out of jail and starting from scratch, don't be too hard on yourself for recruiting him.'

'...And then we use our helicopter go to the top of the Ultor building. You shoot the windows open and next, now I won't lie to you Boss, it will require you to stand on top of the bird and jump your way in.'

I scratched the back of my head. By then Pierce had grown enough on us for me to restrain from yelling at him for his idea of a plan.

'...Or...' Shaundi started, blowing on her bulb. All heads immediately turned to her, taking her seriously. Pierce frowned. '...We could use the camera system we stole from the PD and hit Dane's car on his way to work.'

Pierce just closed on his notebook, sourly, and Gat tapped on his back sympathetically.

'Fuck, we will do that. Nice call Shaundi.'

Shaundi and some guys caused a distraction by coming after Dane's car. Immediately the bodyguards started to shoot at them and the driver, under pressure, accelerated.

We ambushed the limo with a Cheetah Bus properly stolen for the occasion.

Pierce came in front and crossed the bus across the road, blocking the passage.

Meanwhile me and Gat came from the back with a faster car and violently bumped the limo out of control.

The car went off the road, nose down in the water from the canal next to it.

It created quite a crash, me and Gat cautiously approached with our guns ready.

'Eyes on Vogel, he will try to run.' I told my friend as we hurried up.

We stepped closer to the wreck, and we nodded to each other. In a quick motion we both kneeled and shot the two bodyguards, who were already aiming at us.

We heard something fall in the water after that, but we didn't pay much attention. Gat was going straight for the back seat, eager as child on Christmas day.

But weirdly, he pulled back his shotgun and shook his head.

He stared at me, confused. With his chin Gat pointed to the back seat, all bent and fucked up from the impact:

Dane wasn't there. There was only a... Baby chair hanging limply from it.

My mind started to race, turning its focus to that splash in the water a second ago. Acting on impulse, I jumped in the canal.

Moments later, still couldn't believe that I managed to bring a living child back to the surface.

Bewildered, too shocked to say a word, our small crew saw me sit on the asphalt to catch my breath with the small baby on my arms. It was now crying to the top of its lungs.

'I think we've got the wrong Vogel guys.' I said, equally disturbed.

'What do we do now Boss?'

'Home.' I said, taking the shirt Gat took off his body and wrapping around the child.

When we returned to the Hideout, I rushed to my room, overwhelmed.

The Crew, understanding nothing of that sudden change watched me silently and full of surprise.

Truth was I felt guilty and responsible for that little life that hadn't done any harm to me, and that was paying for my criminal actions just like Carlos did.

It had no one else in that moment and that it needed me. A choice of life and death was in my hands, like many times before, except this time I couldn't dare to do what I usually did in such cases.

Surprisingly, I was feeling terrible about what I did.

I started to speak to him softly, apologizing in sweet and random words I came up with and almost begging for him to calm down.

So out of instinct and without thinking about what I was doing, I put him on my lap, rocked him lightly and kissed him, so desperate to stop his crying, that, little by little his body relaxed on my arms started to calm down. He stopped to lash about and watched me silently, as he bit on his finger.

Minutes later he shifted, rested his head on my chest calmly, going to sleep.

At the contact of that trusting head on my bosom a strange and sweet emotion passed through my body and I wondered how he had no clue, if he knew better; me, who was a crook, was after his father and almost killed him a moment ago.

I haven't felt I mattered to someone like this since Carlos.

From that moment on he would stay with me in my room, his cradle and his innocence contrasting deeply with the guns and drug stash lying around.

As days passed something as strange as surrendering started to happen.

I understood that he loved me, because he felt at home in my presence and he cried when I wasn't there.

And I never guessed I would ever say that... It was as unsettling as it was amazing.

All I longed for while I was away was to return home, waiting for the contact of his little warm body against mine as if something was viscerally missing.

For hours I would sit next to Daniel, watching him sleep as this force unknown to me so far took control of everything in my being.

If he had showed up before in my life… Maybe everything would've been different!

'You really like this kid, heh Boss?' Gat poked his head on the doorframe. This undefinable and slight smile was on the corner of his lips, impossible to read.

I just got the feeling that it had to do with Aisha, I dunno why.

'Yup. I do.'

'Vogel gotta be eager to have him back. I hope they won't send the Masako on us like the last time.'

'You are right. We should ask for ransom, like this they will know he is safe and won't interfere for now.'

I nodded, concerned though, at the boy's future: From what I read in gossip magazines his mom was a crazy and addict ex-model. She and Vogel parted ways a while ago. He gave her a large pension, with the agreement that he would have the child's custody. I couldn't say I pictured Vogel as a caring parent, but I hoped to be wrong.

And turns out the worries were justified.

Unexpectedly Max called, telling me that he was now working as a private detective and that he got the info through a contact that Dane wasn't paying for the ransom.

I confess that I was shocked, even after all we saw from Vogel.

What did that prick had in mind? Notoriety? Coming out as a martyr? I never knew, but I suspected it had something to do with his new Mayor campaign.

I told Max everything that happened and that I would be keeping the child then, and he told me it was a great decision. He also said that he got a new girlfriend and it was a huge relief to me to know that he had found happiness again. After that, he came to visit, wishing to meet Daniel. I was a bit afraid that the sight of the baby would trigger him because of the daughter he lost, but my dear friend seemed genuinely at ease and touched when he held the child for the first time.

He spend the day with us. But by the evening, as we were saying our goodbyes, he pulled be to sit in the stairs next to the exit out the church and said he had something important to confess. He seemed very uncomfortable to talk about it as if he was fearing my reaction.

Apparently, by the time we worked together, he had an investigation ran on me at Ultor's orders.

Honestly, I wasn't surprised. Besides, it was his job. He was a cop wasn't he? I knew that he would never do anything to harm me after we were together. The only thing that really worried me was that the past I so wished to be forgotten was brought back to life in all it's sordidness.

'It's all right.' I told him, embarrassed.

'Listen, I know this would be hard for you so I just… Burned the whole thing, it's like it never happened, ok? I promise I won't ever talk about it, nor with you, nor with anyone.'

'How much, exactly, do you know?'

'Just a bit...'

'Max.'

'Ok. Quite a lot.'

I sighed, and prepared myself as I waited for him to speak.

'I am sorry to bring it up but your...'

'...Father? Yeah I killed him.' I said, wishing to get it over with. 'He asked me for money and when we met so I could to handle it to him he had the cops there. There wasn't much else to do.'

'Did he...?' He started painfully, respectfully, and I knew immediately what he was talking about so I cut him to it again.

'No. His friend did. But he never stopped it from happening.'

'That's what I need to tell you. He wasn't your father. Your mother left him shortly after she was pregnant with you, and went to live with that pri… I am sorry. With him. Then, of course, he started to hit her too, and she left him as well.'

'Oh.' I said, a bit stunned.

'I am sorry to bring such a hard matter to the surface but... You are my friend, I love you and I think you deserved to know.'

He kept silent, all empathy as he stared at me for a long time, simply passing his arm around my shoulders for comfort.

'How do you feel?' He asked after a few minutes.

'Relieved.'

'Do you want me to find him? I could, in a couple of days. I would bring him to you.'

'Nah. Doesn't matter. He quit. It wouldn't change a thing. Thanks though. Thanks a lot, I really appreciate.'

'I see.'

'Besides, life goes on and I have a lot to look forward now.' Truth was I was feeling insanely happy since I got to keep Daniel. The thought of him alone made it impossible for me stop smiling.

Max grinned, satisfied with my reply and hugged me one last time before leaving.

'You hold on to it.'

'I will.' I guaranteed with a hand wave as he entered his car and drove away.

When I returned inside the boys were waiting for me at the main hall.

'Boss, what took, you so long?' Shaundi asked as I climbed down the stairs. 'We were waiting for you to get our briefing started.'

'Oh, right.' I said, trying to shake the conversation upstairs off my head. I had totally forgotten it. We were to plan our new strategy against Ultor.

'So?' I said, joining them in the middle of the room and taking a seat.

'Boss, since Shaundi's plan didn't work...' Pierce almost yelled so everyone min the room could hear it. '... We will do this my way this time?'

I scratched my head.

'Damn. I can't believe I'm saying this. We have nothing better... Fine Pierce, that is your shot.'

'YES!' He jumped with hysterical delight, then opened his infamous notebook:

I saw in the page a bunch of arrows and complicated explanations, next to a very poorly made representation of a Helicopter.

'Oh fuck yeah Boss, you won't regret it.' He assured me and started to flip through the pages, distractingly singing some song under his breath. 'Now, where did I write down Let's Pretend's number for the Hot Dog suits?'

Yeah you heard it right, hot dogs.

Truth was, I was regretting it already.

The absurdity of that day compares to nothing The Saints have done before. And trust me, if you stuck with us thus far you know that all sorts of crazy shit can happen.

I can't explain you what the plan was, to be honest. I don't think that to this day I grasped the extent of the madness and the randomness that Pierce's brain could come up with. What I know is that a part of the gang was to disguise as the corny Hot Dog vendors of Stilwater ( sausage n' bread costume), and cause as much fuss as possible to distract the law enforcers while he hit our VIP target.

We loaded a van of disguised gang members, but I knew we would need more muscle to distract the feds. So I rang an old pal, that brought back found memories.

Ned was a contact from the old days. I knew he would be glad to help for a good amount of cash.

He worked as a Mascot in a fast food chain that was concurrence for Freckle Bitch's, called 'Lick-a-Chick'. Their hamburgers were ok, but always gave me diarrhea pronto. The kid in question was kind of dorky but man, did he know how to shoot motherfuckers under his giant chicken suit.

'Hi Ned.'

'Hey! I am glad you still remember me.'

'Please. I always had the ultimate respect for people who can pull a carnage while dressing as a chicken.'

The voice on the other side chuckled:

'Nice one.'

'Nice one what?'

'Oh, it wasn't a joke? Ok. So, what can I do for you?'

'Listen, I need a decoy. Don't ask me why but my crew is going to dress as hot dogs for this job, so figured a giant Fast Food bird shooting everything on sight would do the trick.'

'Cool. That's all? Just give me a minute to get there. But I can't be long I am working two shifts today.'

Ned showed up in no time, delighted to take a break from the today's specials and greasy burgers.

So here was the rest of the complicated plan:

Gat was to act as a snipper and give me cover while I reached Vogel.

Tobias also came as reinforcement in his Helicopter, as high as the chopper could ever be.

As our unusual crew took off I had to wonder that maybe we went too far.

This night was been unusual but when you have a mascot, a sniper and a bunch hotdogs all in inside a Heli, what can you expect?

We were to infiltrate some crew in the Ultor building as caterers during the traditional Stilwater's Hot Dog Day. I was bummed to lose the festivities, as me and the Saints always spent the previous years stuffing our faces with some delicious Hot Dogs that were given away freely all over city. But Dane was to give a speech on the same day.

When we got there, a hysteric crowd covered the streets, agitating poster cards supporting Vogel. The bastard calculated it right about using his son to look good for the press. His numbers were plummeting on the charts, now clearly things took a turn in just a few weeks.

Everybody took their positions and after a while our target appeared, surrounded by bodyguards.

He started his speech, suspecting nothing as I watched from a close spot with a gun concealed on my back. I checked my phone impatiently and looked up to the top of a nearby building where Gat was supposed to take action and shoot his brains out, yet nothing was happening. Evidently something was wrong, and turns out he was surprised by a cop just before he could take a clear shot. We heard some faint shots in the distance. The first part of the plan flopped, but it was time to call in out second act and backup:

There were loud Shotgun shots fired in the middle of the crowd. Ned, inside the stuffed Chicken costume. He mingled as obviously no one would mind an extra mascot walking around that day.

A silence followed as someone kept firing in the air and on the sound boxes, cutting the jolly jingle from the campaign. Then screams emerged and soon echoed from every corner of the neighborhood. The people, scared to death, walked all over and bumped each other in a desperate attempt to escape.

It was our window, we had to go after Vogel.

I sneaked closer, pushing the panicked citizens out of my way. With quick steps I climbed up the podium, focusing on what I had to do.

With a quick motion I shot Dane, but being immediately thrown to the ground by a member of the security staff. If the guy hadn't pushed me, the bullet that pierced Vogel's shoulder would've hit his head. By the time I fought my way out of it, the bastard had slipped out of our reach. As imagined, he took refuge inside the Ultor building, just a few meters away from us.

Cursing and still on the ground, I felt a strong buff of wind and a noise of engine coming closer.

It was Tobias, inviting me to his chopper.

We still had one card left to play.

With the armored chopper, we flew sky high until the last floor of the Ultor building. The main office was there, as a metaphor or and ode to all the corporate achievement.

Entering it, wasn't hard to dispatch the bodyguards inside. They were only a few as the security team didn't expect our audacity.

I looked around for our 'friend' and he was hiding behind his desk, pale as a ghost.

A few shots were heard and thought they were certainly aimed at me, they were so random and imprecise that they couldn't hit me if they tried.

Vogel was desperate because knew that this time it was only the two of us. His influence and his power counted for shit then.

I still remember his last plea, smart ass to his last moments:

He was kneeling before me, zero dignity. Well I guess where there is no honor, there is no harm.

" 'For Daniel, don't take his father away from him.'

'I can't take from Daniel something he never had.'

BANG!"

I shot his ass without flinching.

That was the last asshole to worry about in that city.

I couldn't help but feel the glory of achievement, as we flew back home and the last rays of sun fell over Stilwater. The Ronin, The Samedi, The Brotherhood... And Ultor. All fell to our gang.

Third Street!

We owned that fucking city.

Two years later...

After Daniel... How to explain it? My life took a new turn. It was no longer only mine. If I got shot, if I died tomorrow, who would take care of him? Once more I was confronted with the dilemma of leaving the gang for a loved one, but this time I learned from my mistakes. In the past I lost Carlos because I thought we had time, that we were invulnerable and tragically was shown otherwise.

With that in mind I decided to legalize some of our business and cut old connections so I could live on my share of them. We had risen to the status of crime celebrities nationwide ever since we took over Stilwater, there couldn't be a better time to slip out of the old life.

Gat was already expecting it, surely. He simply nodded and asked if, while they looked for a successor he could still call me Boss as he didn't know what else to call me. I was moved, even though between us there would never be a goodbye.

I said yes, but revealed to him my real name. He decided to go with me until I got settled. No matter what, he would always remain in my life as the best fucking friend I had in this world. And as for Shaundi and Pierce, they were family as well.

So we took Daniel, my best car, the most expensive shit I owned and got ready to hit the road to Steelport.

Before leaving the Hideout, though, I had one place I needed to go: Carlos' bedroom.

I had locked it and only came in occasionally to clean it up.

I spent a few hours inside, sitting on the floor next to his bed. It wasn't like before, the exasperation and insanity weren't there anymore. Nothing was overtaking. It became normal, and integrated itself to life, losing all it's crescendos.

But... It was never gone. Part of it would never move on, no matter how much the rest did and life called with it's urgent proposes.

'Hasta luego, mi amor.' I said to the room and flipped over the light switch, feeling remorseful, like I was leaving him there in the dark.

Night in Steelport.

A former Saint walked down the streets, head down under his black zipper hood.

Carlos Mendoza, it was no one else but him, even if he looked slightly different now.

The neon lights caught on his face, showing that he had several minor scars on it, and a damaged eye that was almost blind.

Maybe that's why he hid under a hood or sunglasses every time he went outside. The ex Saint Lieutenant didn't seem to be ok with his appearance after what the Brotherhood did to him.

While he passed by a newsstand, something caught his eye:

A gossip magazine.

As soon as he looked at it, he frowned sadly and moved away, walking a bit quicker like he was running away from something. He always ran from the press in general. A well known gang leader's face was too often on it. The woman in the cover was known to most people as 'The Boss', but once the one he called the love of his life.

He walked halfway down the street, but turned on his heels and went back to where the newsstand was, looking pissed with himself, like he was about to do something that he shouldn't.

'I will take a Marlboro and this.' He said, opening his wallet, as he pulled the magazine from where it was, suspended above.

A few minutes later he was on the back of the garage he owned, sitting inside a Hayate for privacy.

He hastily opened the magazine to the part that interested him.

'Fuck, how do you do that? You look even more beautiful now.' He chuckled sadly, and a knot formed in his stomach.

All the memories he never allowed himself to relieve were now flashing in his mind's eye, along with wonderful sensations that at the same time hurt more than he could bear.

He suddenly understood that no matter how much time passed and how much he moved on with his life, all it would take would be a moment of weakness like this to make him see that nothing changed and that his soul still belonged there.

All his self, at present, called out for her.

Carlos was shaking.

In rage with himself, he started to tear the pages, one by one as his mind went back in time to the day when, after leaving the Hospital, he came looking for the Boss at The Hideout…

Found almost dead and in an unrecognizable state, he remained in a coma for several months. As a criminal, as soon as he was recognizable, he was to be sent back to jail.

To his horror he couldn't reach the gang, as they changed phone numbers often for safety. All he could do was to wait for an opportunity to escape.

As soon as he was able to move again, he ran away when they were to transfer him to the Prison Hospital. Days later he got into a cab and went straight for The Hideout.

What was supposed to be a happy reunion turned out to be the heartbreak of his life.

He recalled in slow motion how, through the window of the car he saw another vehicle parking in front of them. He recognized it perfectly: It was The Boss' Venon! The one driving was her.

His heart contracted with extreme happiness and belonging, but to his surprise she left the Venon carrying something in her arms: A baby.

Confused, he watched her lean towards it and kiss the small child with such a loving attitude that it left no doubt to misinterpretation.

He didn't have time to process the scene and someone else was already stepping into it: A tall man, with brown hair and handsome features came from inside the church to welcome them. He passed one arm around The Boss and picked up the child with tender enthusiasm.

Max!

Tears were already falling, inundating the collar of his shirt. Under a shock, sick to his stomach, Carlos sunk his head in his hands and frantically calculated the time they've been apart: For a little more than a year, yes, the child was hers and Max's. And she moved on quickly.

After this event, he decided to move to Steelport and never come near anything related to The Saints again in his life.

The once lively, innocent Lieutenant changed. He became cynical, isolating himself in his new garage, where he did small deal with the Luchadores and tuned cars for a living. Even smoking, that once he loathed more than anything in his life, became a way to cope with the emptiness and the bitterness of the last years.

Steelport, days later...

Ever since I became the Leader of The Saints people wondered when my birthday was. Like most of my past, this remained a mystery even to my closest friends, such as Gat.

Until Max gave the date away by sending me a birthday card.

And then every single year the guys from the gang would do variations of the following: Fake a kidnapping or a robbery, cover my head with a hood and shove me into a car that in the end took me to a surprise birthday party. Except the only surprise was my own, or better, the one I had to fake in order not to disappoint my friends.

I would pull my best surprised face and say something like:

'Wow you guys I thought it was for real! I almost drew my gun!' or 'Gat, you fucker, you really got me this year.'

Not to mention Pierce's live performances. One year he dedicated the 80's track "We Don't Have To Take Our Clothes Off" to me.

Like a bad flashback from PTSD, it was impossible to forget the image of my least favorite lieutenant under the night club lights, mic in hand and those funky karaoke images playing on the background. Worst birthday gift ever.

'Oh Man, even the Boss' stone heart is touched! Crying her eyes out, would you look at that!' He wiped his eyes with a dramatic gesture, showing how my "tears" induced his own.

In reality, I was simply covering my face to hide the convulsive laughter that his performance elicited. By then, as I said, Pierce had grown enough on me so I was trying to spare his feelings. As he resumed his singing, now aggravated with ridiculous little sobs, I sank my mug lower behind Shaundi's shoulder, and laughed even harder.

A side glance to the other guys confirmed that I wasn't the only one "moved" by his performance.

This year wasn't going to be different.

I saw it coming weeks ahead, so much they sucked at hiding it. To make it easier for them I left the apartment we were sharing at the Brickston district and went to take a drink at a bar on the corner of our building, leaving them alone to discuss it.

As I walked down the street I gazed around curiously, since we arrived at that city just a few days before. Steelport was just as low rent and ugly as Stilwater, our home town. I felt I didn't belong there, the fact that we owned nothing on that town maybe helped to it. Apparently, the whole city belonged to The Syndicate, a local crime ring I've never heard about before. But since most of the Saints' paycheck right now consisted on royalties, interviews and movie deals, gang activity was no longer our focus.

Reaching the bar I took a sit outside and ordered a beer.

So you must guess knowing about the birthday party scenario, that I wasn't surprised at all and didn't even fight back when a blue car parked viciously in front of the bar, knocking off some chairs and two huge masked thugs came out of it and held me at gun point.

I heard a shotgun click on the back of my neck and they tossed me to the back seat. I barely hit the leather and the car already took off with a stench of burned tires. I was on my way to a party, but not the kind I expected.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Thanks for reading! Preparing for the very last chapters of that story... :D Sit tight! I will see you soon in another chapter. I've been stitching old and new material together so I can deliver you a finished story. Sorry this chapter feels sort of rushed, but otherwise things will never be ready. Next chapter will be different! Review :3

Chapter Text

Now I was back on my feet. Life and its events were starting be of interest again.

Colors were returning, even if underneath the ashes there was a wound that couldn't be healed. There was still an eventual dark moment here and there where I missed him more than I could handle (actually I missed him every second to be honest), but Gat was right: Things, were looking up. I understood that even if I would never be the same, that didn't mean I could not be happy again.

Since that realization the other night, I felt much better and got it that Carlos had left me one last gift before his parting. His love helped me to cure most of my darkest self esteem issues. Without a single doubt, I know I am not a good person, but that doesn't mean I am not worthy of love. If anything, I had better integrated my dark side, accepted better who I was. That of course, gave me a shitload more of confidence, so I decided to take advantage of that and reconnect with an old 'friend' of the Saints: Mr. Vogel.

It wasn't as much for revenge as it was for Ultor being pretty much everything that stopped us from having total power in this city. I also envied his loot, and of course having to bring down such a prick in the process of getting it was going to be of enjoyment.

That's how we decided to take things to the next level…

I gathered the guys. We sat together at the table in the game room the whole afternoon, around some Freckle Bitch's and Loa, while we decided what was the best way to get rid of the motherfucker.

I sensed that everybody was kind of eager to screw him. While no one had direct business with Vogel, it was a popular opinion that he deserved a bullet up his ass. Dane was like a fly, it couldn't hurt on his own but was so freaking annoying that it should be a pleasure to squash it.

'We could buy his secretary into giving his schedule, then get some Saints hired as his employees.' Pierce suggested, opening his notebook. 'Then, we jack their security system and...'

I heard Gat sigh at my side and lean back on his chair.

If I wasn't chewing on my Chicken Bazoom I would've told him to stop this complicated scheme right there. 'We were just out of jail and starting from scratch, don't be too hard on yourself for recruiting him.'

'...And then we use our helicopter go to the top of the Ultor building. You shoot the windows open and next, now I won't lie to you Boss, it will require you to stand on top of the bird and jump your way in.'

I scratched the back of my head. By then Pierce had grown enough on us for me to restrain from yelling at him for his idea of a plan.

'...Or...' Shaundi started, blowing on her bulb. All heads immediately turned to her, taking her seriously. Pierce frowned. '...We could use the camera system we stole from the PD and hit Dane's car on his way to work.'

Pierce just closed on his notebook, sourly, and Gat tapped on his back sympathetically.

'Fuck, we will do that. Nice call Shaundi.'

Shaundi and some guys caused a distraction by coming after Dane's car. Immediately the bodyguards started to shoot at them and the driver, under pressure, accelerated.

We ambushed the limo with a Cheetah Bus properly stolen for the occasion.

Pierce came in front and crossed the bus across the road, blocking the passage.

Meanwhile me and Gat came from the back with a faster car and violently bumped the limo out of control.

The car went off the road, nose down in the water from the canal next to it.

It created quite a crash, me and Gat cautiously approached with our guns ready.

'Eyes on Vogel, he will try to run.' I told my friend as we hurried up.

We stepped closer to the wreck, and we nodded to each other. In a quick motion we both kneeled and shot the two bodyguards, who were already aiming at us.

We heard something fall in the water after that, but we didn't pay much attention. Gat was going straight for the back seat, eager as child on Christmas day.

But weirdly, he pulled back his shotgun and shook his head.

He stared at me, confused. With his chin Gat pointed to the back seat, all bent and fucked up from the impact:

Dane wasn't there. There was only a... Baby chair hanging limply from it.

My mind started to race, turning its focus to that splash in the water a second ago. Acting on impulse, I jumped in the canal.

Moments later, still couldn't believe that I managed to bring a living child back to the surface.

Bewildered, too shocked to say a word, our small crew saw me sit on the asphalt to catch my breath with the small baby on my arms. It was now crying to the top of its lungs.

'I think we've got the wrong Vogel guys.' I said, equally disturbed.

'What do we do now Boss?'

'Home.' I said, taking the shirt Gat took off his body and wrapping around the child.

When we returned to the Hideout, I rushed to my room, overwhelmed.

The Crew, understanding nothing of that sudden change watched me silently and full of surprise.

Truth was I felt guilty and responsible for that little life that hadn't done any harm to me, and that was paying for my criminal actions just like Carlos did.

It had no one else in that moment and that it needed me. A choice of life and death was in my hands, like many times before, except this time I couldn't dare to do what I usually did in such cases.

Surprisingly, I was feeling terrible about what I did.

I started to speak to him softly, apologizing in sweet and random words I came up with and almost begging for him to calm down.

So out of instinct and without thinking about what I was doing, I put him on my lap, rocked him lightly and kissed him, so desperate to stop his crying, that, little by little his body relaxed on my arms started to calm down. He stopped to lash about and watched me silently, as he bit on his finger.

Minutes later he shifted, rested his head on my chest calmly, going to sleep.

At the contact of that trusting head on my bosom a strange and sweet emotion passed through my body and I wondered how he had no clue, if he knew better; me, who was a crook, was after his father and almost killed him a moment ago.

I haven't felt I mattered to someone like this since Carlos.

From that moment on he would stay with me in my room, his cradle and his innocence contrasting deeply with the guns and drug stash lying around.

As days passed something as strange as surrendering started to happen.

I understood that he loved me, because he felt at home in my presence and he cried when I wasn't there.

And I never guessed I would ever say that... It was as unsettling as it was amazing.

All I longed for while I was away was to return home, waiting for the contact of his little warm body against mine as if something was viscerally missing.

For hours I would sit next to Daniel, watching him sleep as this force unknown to me so far took control of everything in my being.

If he had showed up before in my life… Maybe everything would've been different!

'You really like this kid, heh Boss?' Gat poked his head on the doorframe. This undefinable and slight smile was on the corner of his lips, impossible to read.

I just got the feeling that it had to do with Aisha, I dunno why.

'Yup. I do.'

'Vogel gotta be eager to have him back. I hope they won't send the Masako on us like the last time.'

'You are right. We should ask for ransom, like this they will know he is safe and won't interfere for now.'

I nodded, concerned though, at the boy's future: From what I read in gossip magazines his mom was a crazy and addict ex-model. She and Vogel parted ways a while ago. He gave her a large pension, with the agreement that he would have the child's custody. I couldn't say I pictured Vogel as a caring parent, but I hoped to be wrong.

And turns out the worries were justified.

Unexpectedly Max called, telling me that he was now working as a private detective and that he got the info through a contact that Dane wasn't paying for the ransom.

I confess that I was shocked, even after all we saw from Vogel.

What did that prick had in mind? Notoriety? Coming out as a martyr? I never knew, but I suspected it had something to do with his new Mayor campaign.

I told Max everything that happened and that I would be keeping the child then, and he told me it was a great decision. He also said that he got a new girlfriend and it was a huge relief to me to know that he had found happiness again. After that, he came to visit, wishing to meet Daniel. I was a bit afraid that the sight of the baby would trigger him because of the daughter he lost, but my dear friend seemed genuinely at ease and touched when he held the child for the first time.

He spend the day with us. But by the evening, as we were saying our goodbyes, he pulled be to sit in the stairs next to the exit out the church and said he had something important to confess. He seemed very uncomfortable to talk about it as if he was fearing my reaction.

Apparently, by the time we worked together, he had an investigation ran on me at Ultor's orders.

Honestly, I wasn't surprised. Besides, it was his job. He was a cop wasn't he? I knew that he would never do anything to harm me after we were together. The only thing that really worried me was that the past I so wished to be forgotten was brought back to life in all it's sordidness.

'It's all right.' I told him, embarrassed.

'Listen, I know this would be hard for you so I just… Burned the whole thing, it's like it never happened, ok? I promise I won't ever talk about it, nor with you, nor with anyone.'

'How much, exactly, do you know?'

'Just a bit...'

'Max.'

'Ok. Quite a lot.'

I sighed, and prepared myself as I waited for him to speak.

'I am sorry to bring it up but your...'

'...Father? Yeah I killed him.' I said, wishing to get it over with. 'He asked me for money and when we met so I could to handle it to him he had the cops there. There wasn't much else to do.'

'Did he...?' He started painfully, respectfully, and I knew immediately what he was talking about so I cut him to it again.

'No. His friend did. But he never stopped it from happening.'

'That's what I need to tell you. He wasn't your father. Your mother left him shortly after she was pregnant with you, and went to live with that pri… I am sorry. With him. Then, of course, he started to hit her too, and she left him as well.'

'Oh.' I said, a bit stunned.

'I am sorry to bring such a hard matter to the surface but... You are my friend, I love you and I think you deserved to know.'

He kept silent, all empathy as he stared at me for a long time, simply passing his arm around my shoulders for comfort.

'How do you feel?' He asked after a few minutes.

'Relieved.'

'Do you want me to find him? I could, in a couple of days. I would bring him to you.'

'Nah. Doesn't matter. He quit. It wouldn't change a thing. Thanks though. Thanks a lot, I really appreciate.'

'I see.'

'Besides, life goes on and I have a lot to look forward now.' Truth was I was feeling insanely happy since I got to keep Daniel. The thought of him alone made it impossible for me stop smiling.

Max grinned, satisfied with my reply and hugged me one last time before leaving.

'You hold on to it.'

'I will.' I guaranteed with a hand wave as he entered his car and drove away.

When I returned inside the boys were waiting for me at the main hall.

'Boss, what took, you so long?' Shaundi asked as I climbed down the stairs. 'We were waiting for you to get our briefing started.'

'Oh, right.' I said, trying to shake the conversation upstairs off my head. I had totally forgotten it. We were to plan our new strategy against Ultor.

'So?' I said, joining them in the middle of the room and taking a seat.

'Boss, since Shaundi's plan didn't work...' Pierce almost yelled so everyone min the room could hear it. '... We will do this my way this time?'

I scratched my head.

'Damn. I can't believe I'm saying this. We have nothing better... Fine Pierce, that is your shot.'

'YES!' He jumped with hysterical delight, then opened his infamous notebook:

I saw in the page a bunch of arrows and complicated explanations, next to a very poorly made representation of a Helicopter.

'Oh fuck yeah Boss, you won't regret it.' He assured me and started to flip through the pages, distractingly singing some song under his breath. 'Now, where did I write down Let's Pretend's number for the Hot Dog suits?'

Yeah you heard it right, hot dogs.

Truth was, I was regretting it already.

The absurdity of that day compares to nothing The Saints have done before. And trust me, if you stuck with us thus far you know that all sorts of crazy shit can happen.

I can't explain you what the plan was, to be honest. I don't think that to this day I grasped the extent of the madness and the randomness that Pierce's brain could come up with. What I know is that a part of the gang was to disguise as the corny Hot Dog vendors of Stilwater ( sausage n' bread costume), and cause as much fuss as possible to distract the law enforcers while he hit our VIP target.

We loaded a van of disguised gang members, but I knew we would need more muscle to distract the feds. So I rang an old pal, that brought back found memories.

Ned was a contact from the old days. I knew he would be glad to help for a good amount of cash.

He worked as a Mascot in a fast food chain that was concurrence for Freckle Bitch's, called 'Lick-a-Chick'. Their hamburgers were ok, but always gave me diarrhea pronto. The kid in question was kind of dorky but man, did he know how to shoot motherfuckers under his giant chicken suit.

'Hi Ned.'

'Hey! I am glad you still remember me.'

'Please. I always had the ultimate respect for people who can pull a carnage while dressing as a chicken.'

The voice on the other side chuckled:

'Nice one.'

'Nice one what?'

'Oh, it wasn't a joke? Ok. So, what can I do for you?'

'Listen, I need a decoy. Don't ask me why but my crew is going to dress as hot dogs for this job, so figured a giant Fast Food bird shooting everything on sight would do the trick.'

'Cool. That's all? Just give me a minute to get there. But I can't be long I am working two shifts today.'

Ned showed up in no time, delighted to take a break from the today's specials and greasy burgers.

So here was the rest of the complicated plan:

Gat was to act as a snipper and give me cover while I reached Vogel.

Tobias also came as reinforcement in his Helicopter, as high as the chopper could ever be.

As our unusual crew took off I had to wonder that maybe we went too far.

This night was been unusual but when you have a mascot, a sniper and a bunch hotdogs all in inside a Heli, what can you expect?

We were to infiltrate some crew in the Ultor building as caterers during the traditional Stilwater's Hot Dog Day. I was bummed to lose the festivities, as me and the Saints always spent the previous years stuffing our faces with some delicious Hot Dogs that were given away freely all over city. But Dane was to give a speech on the same day.

When we got there, a hysteric crowd covered the streets, agitating poster cards supporting Vogel. The bastard calculated it right about using his son to look good for the press. His numbers were plummeting on the charts, now clearly things took a turn in just a few weeks.

Everybody took their positions and after a while our target appeared, surrounded by bodyguards.

He started his speech, suspecting nothing as I watched from a close spot with a gun concealed on my back. I checked my phone impatiently and looked up to the top of a nearby building where Gat was supposed to take action and shoot his brains out, yet nothing was happening. Evidently something was wrong, and turns out he was surprised by a cop just before he could take a clear shot. We heard some faint shots in the distance. The first part of the plan flopped, but it was time to call in out second act and backup:

There were loud Shotgun shots fired in the middle of the crowd. Ned, inside the stuffed Chicken costume. He mingled as obviously no one would mind an extra mascot walking around that day.

A silence followed as someone kept firing in the air and on the sound boxes, cutting the jolly jingle from the campaign. Then screams emerged and soon echoed from every corner of the neighborhood. The people, scared to death, walked all over and bumped each other in a desperate attempt to escape.

It was our window, we had to go after Vogel.

I sneaked closer, pushing the panicked citizens out of my way. With quick steps I climbed up the podium, focusing on what I had to do.

With a quick motion I shot Dane, but being immediately thrown to the ground by a member of the security staff. If the guy hadn't pushed me, the bullet that pierced Vogel's shoulder would've hit his head. By the time I fought my way out of it, the bastard had slipped out of our reach. As imagined, he took refuge inside the Ultor building, just a few meters away from us.

Cursing and still on the ground, I felt a strong buff of wind and a noise of engine coming closer.

It was Tobias, inviting me to his chopper.

We still had one card left to play.

With the armored chopper, we flew sky high until the last floor of the Ultor building. The main office was there, as a metaphor or and ode to all the corporate achievement.

Entering it, wasn't hard to dispatch the bodyguards inside. They were only a few as the security team didn't expect our audacity.

I looked around for our 'friend' and he was hiding behind his desk, pale as a ghost.

A few shots were heard and thought they were certainly aimed at me, they were so random and imprecise that they couldn't hit me if they tried.

Vogel was desperate because knew that this time it was only the two of us. His influence and his power counted for shit then.

I still remember his last plea, smart ass to his last moments:

He was kneeling before me, zero dignity. Well I guess where there is no honor, there is no harm.

" 'For Daniel, don't take his father away from him.'

'I can't take from Daniel something he never had.'

BANG!"

I shot his ass without flinching.

That was the last asshole to worry about in that city.

I couldn't help but feel the glory of achievement, as we flew back home and the last rays of sun fell over Stilwater. The Ronin, The Samedi, The Brotherhood... And Ultor. All fell to our gang.

Third Street!

We owned that fucking city.

Two years later...

After Daniel... How to explain it? My life took a new turn. It was no longer only mine. If I got shot, if I died tomorrow, who would take care of him? Once more I was confronted with the dilemma of leaving the gang for a loved one, but this time I learned from my mistakes. In the past I lost Carlos because I thought we had time, that we were invulnerable and tragically was shown otherwise.

With that in mind I decided to legalize some of our business and cut old connections so I could live on my share of them. We had risen to the status of crime celebrities nationwide ever since we took over Stilwater, there couldn't be a better time to slip out of the old life.

Gat was already expecting it, surely. He simply nodded and asked if, while they looked for a successor he could still call me Boss as he didn't know what else to call me. I was moved, even though between us there would never be a goodbye.

I said yes, but revealed to him my real name. He decided to go with me until I got settled. No matter what, he would always remain in my life as the best fucking friend I had in this world. And as for Shaundi and Pierce, they were family as well.

So we took Daniel, my best car, the most expensive shit I owned and got ready to hit the road to Steelport.

Before leaving the Hideout, though, I had one place I needed to go: Carlos' bedroom.

I had locked it and only came in occasionally to clean it up.

I spent a few hours inside, sitting on the floor next to his bed. It wasn't like before, the exasperation and insanity weren't there anymore. Nothing was overtaking. It became normal, and integrated itself to life, losing all it's crescendos.

But... It was never gone. Part of it would never move on, no matter how much the rest did and life called with it's urgent proposes.

'Hasta luego, mi amor.' I said to the room and flipped over the light switch, feeling remorseful, like I was leaving him there in the dark.

Night in Steelport.

A former Saint walked down the streets, head down under his black zipper hood.

Carlos Mendoza, it was no one else but him, even if he looked slightly different now.

The neon lights caught on his face, showing that he had several minor scars on it, and a damaged eye that was almost blind.

Maybe that's why he hid under a hood or sunglasses every time he went outside. The ex Saint Lieutenant didn't seem to be ok with his appearance after what the Brotherhood did to him.

While he passed by a newsstand, something caught his eye:

A gossip magazine.

As soon as he looked at it, he frowned sadly and moved away, walking a bit quicker like he was running away from something. He always ran from the press in general. A well known gang leader's face was too often on it. The woman in the cover was known to most people as 'The Boss', but once the one he called the love of his life.

He walked halfway down the street, but turned on his heels and went back to where the newsstand was, looking pissed with himself, like he was about to do something that he shouldn't.

'I will take a Marlboro and this.' He said, opening his wallet, as he pulled the magazine from where it was, suspended above.

A few minutes later he was on the back of the garage he owned, sitting inside a Hayate for privacy.

He hastily opened the magazine to the part that interested him.

'Fuck, how do you do that? You look even more beautiful now.' He chuckled sadly, and a knot formed in his stomach.

All the memories he never allowed himself to relieve were now flashing in his mind's eye, along with wonderful sensations that at the same time hurt more than he could bear.

He suddenly understood that no matter how much time passed and how much he moved on with his life, all it would take would be a moment of weakness like this to make him see that nothing changed and that his soul still belonged there.

All his self, at present, called out for her.

Carlos was shaking.

In rage with himself, he started to tear the pages, one by one as his mind went back in time to the day when, after leaving the Hospital, he came looking for the Boss at The Hideout…

Found almost dead and in an unrecognizable state, he remained in a coma for several months. As a criminal, as soon as he was recognizable, he was to be sent back to jail.

To his horror he couldn't reach the gang, as they changed phone numbers often for safety. All he could do was to wait for an opportunity to escape.

As soon as he was able to move again, he ran away when they were to transfer him to the Prison Hospital. Days later he got into a cab and went straight for The Hideout.

What was supposed to be a happy reunion turned out to be the heartbreak of his life.

He recalled in slow motion how, through the window of the car he saw another vehicle parking in front of them. He recognized it perfectly: It was The Boss' Venon! The one driving was her.

His heart contracted with extreme happiness and belonging, but to his surprise she left the Venon carrying something in her arms: A baby.

Confused, he watched her lean towards it and kiss the small child with such a loving attitude that it left no doubt to misinterpretation.

He didn't have time to process the scene and someone else was already stepping into it: A tall man, with brown hair and handsome features came from inside the church to welcome them. He passed one arm around The Boss and picked up the child with tender enthusiasm.

Max!

Tears were already falling, inundating the collar of his shirt. Under a shock, sick to his stomach, Carlos sunk his head in his hands and frantically calculated the time they've been apart: For a little more than a year, yes, the child was hers and Max's. And she moved on quickly.

After this event, he decided to move to Steelport and never come near anything related to The Saints again in his life.

The once lively, innocent Lieutenant changed. He became cynical, isolating himself in his new garage, where he did small deal with the Luchadores and tuned cars for a living. Even smoking, that once he loathed more than anything in his life, became a way to cope with the emptiness and the bitterness of the last years.

Steelport, days later...

Ever since I became the Leader of The Saints people wondered when my birthday was. Like most of my past, this remained a mystery even to my closest friends, such as Gat.

Until Max gave the date away by sending me a birthday card.

And then every single year the guys from the gang would do variations of the following: Fake a kidnapping or a robbery, cover my head with a hood and shove me into a car that in the end took me to a surprise birthday party. Except the only surprise was my own, or better, the one I had to fake in order not to disappoint my friends.

I would pull my best surprised face and say something like:

'Wow you guys I thought it was for real! I almost drew my gun!' or 'Gat, you fucker, you really got me this year.'

Not to mention Pierce's live performances. One year he dedicated the 80's track "We Don't Have To Take Our Clothes Off" to me.

Like a bad flashback from PTSD, it was impossible to forget the image of my least favorite lieutenant under the night club lights, mic in hand and those funky karaoke images playing on the background. Worst birthday gift ever.

'Oh Man, even the Boss' stone heart is touched! Crying her eyes out, would you look at that!' He wiped his eyes with a dramatic gesture, showing how my "tears" induced his own.

In reality, I was simply covering my face to hide the convulsive laughter that his performance elicited. By then, as I said, Pierce had grown enough on me so I was trying to spare his feelings. As he resumed his singing, now aggravated with ridiculous little sobs, I sank my mug lower behind Shaundi's shoulder, and laughed even harder.

A side glance to the other guys confirmed that I wasn't the only one "moved" by his performance.

This year wasn't going to be different.

I saw it coming weeks ahead, so much they sucked at hiding it. To make it easier for them I left the apartment we were sharing at the Brickston district and went to take a drink at a bar on the corner of our building, leaving them alone to discuss it.

As I walked down the street I gazed around curiously, since we arrived at that city just a few days before. Steelport was just as low rent and ugly as Stilwater, our home town. I felt I didn't belong there, the fact that we owned nothing on that town maybe helped to it. Apparently, the whole city belonged to The Syndicate, a local crime ring I've never heard about before. But since most of the Saints' paycheck right now consisted on royalties, interviews and movie deals, gang activity was no longer our focus.

Reaching the bar I took a sit outside and ordered a beer.

So you must guess knowing about the birthday party scenario, that I wasn't surprised at all and didn't even fight back when a blue car parked viciously in front of the bar, knocking off some chairs and two huge masked thugs came out of it and held me at gun point.

I heard a shotgun click on the back of my neck and they tossed me to the back seat. I barely hit the leather and the car already took off with a stench of burned tires. I was on my way to a party, but not the kind I expected.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Thanks for reading! Preparing for the very last chapters of that story... :D Sit tight! I will see you soon in another chapter. I've been stitching old and new material together so I can deliver you a finished story. Sorry this chapter feels sort of rushed, but otherwise things will never be ready. Next chapter will be different! Review :3

Chapter Text

Gat and I were on our way to the Casino when his phone rang. I didn't pay attention to it, thinking it was probably just Shaundi or Pierce. I wasn't yet recovered from my shock, nor my disappointment and I knew I would need a good week to be able to put this night behind me.

'Who? Who...? Why should I care who this Matt Miller is?' Johnny said to the person on the other side of the line, and that name caught my attention straight away.

I snapped his phone away, to his surprise: 'We're listening.'

'The name is Kinzie Kensington. I went to college with Shaundi...' A woman's voice started.

'Oh.' I replied, pleased. 'So, Kinzie... I am guessing we share a dislike for nosey Emo nerds, am I right?'

'Sure do!' The voice on the other side sounded excitedly encouraged by my words. 'I will take you to his despicable person, trusting that you will do the right thing. The asshole lost me a job at the FBI by leaking some private videos of mine... Nothing too extreme but still enough to discredit me!'

Although I didn't ask, and surely wasn't interested in knowing the weirdest kinks of a total stranger, she started to list some odd BDSM practices I didn't even know about.

'Can we get back to Matt's address?' I interrupted her, unfortunately listening enough to visualize everything.

After she did so, I hung up the phone.

'Weird woman.' I shrugged. 'Change of plans Gat, let's go for some action.'

'Ok, but you better tell me who the hell are all these people are...'

Back at home Carlos was sitting in the part of the garage where the cars that were ready to be retrieved were kept, sitting inside a Hayate for privacy. At his feet and on the side of his seat, were balls of printed paper from the magazine he thorn a few days ago. He felt the need to be on his own, so the weird mix of emotions he was experiencing would decrease.

Bliss, jealousy and anger clashed contradictorily in his self, causing his chest to raise up and down with quick breathing.

After smoking a whole pack of cigarettes without being able to leave, he finally gave in and picked up the magazine on the floor.

After what he did tonight, what would it change?

He hastily opened it to the part that interested him.

'The Leader of The Saints tells all: Guns, crime, and fashion'

'God, what kind of press is this?'

There she was, in a beautiful, but kind of overdone style of picture, lying on the grass in a black couture dress with a big cleavage, in one of those 'I'm pretending to be natural but been hot' kind of pose.

His heart was pounding suddenly hard just to look at it, a world of memories rising that now he didn't care to push away, at least not during this indulging time he accorded himself.

Next he started to read the interview, close to another fashion photo. This was a standing pose of The Boss in only a long white shirt, high heels and a gun. Ok, she still looked tough. But he had to wonder how it was possible that the Saints went from gangsters to jet setters so godamn fast...

'Fuck how do you do that? You look even more beautiful.' He chuckled sadly.

'Shit baby, you've got silicon on your tits.' He noticed. 'They were fine just the way they were.'

He looked at the photo longly, like trying to retrieve something from it.

Meanwhile an object next to her almost bare breasts caught his attention, it seemed very familiar to Carlos:

A golden cross, suspended by a thick chain. His heart contracted with pure happiness, even if he tried to suppress that sensation.

'It's Hector's cross.'

He recalled a detail from earlier that night, one that he didn't pay much attention to in the heat of the moment... Yes. She was wearing this chain and he saw it when he opened her shirt to check on her wound!

'Maybe she still thinks about me...! She STILL cares, in a way!'

After reading the whole article and turning back the pages several times to look at the pictures, Carlos closed his eyes while he ran a hand through his hair, vanquished:

'Dios Mío! Por que me haces esto?'*

Matt's favorite spot to hang out was the basement of a costume store downtown. His gang owned 'Let's Pretend' chain in Steelport, making it the perfect place to retreat. Besides, it always made him feel even more like an undercover genius, belonging in a science fiction movie.

Bruised was his body and mostly was his ego, so he decided it was time to keep a low profile for a while.

But turned out that, this night, the young hacker was about to regret trusting the security of that retreat.

Miller barely had a few hours to calm himself partially and recover a bit, when to his total panic he heard shots above through the ceiling.

Panicking, almost shiting his pants, the young gangster grabbed a pistol and got up from his chair, but at the same time the door of the basement was kicked open.

'There he is!'

The Boss, followed by Johnny Gat and a woman with red hair stormed inside. He recognized his FBI rival and understood all hope was lost.

As soon as The Saints approached and The Boss charged in front of the others, Matt immediately tossed his gun away and fell to his knees with nothing else in mind but to save his ass. He started to mumble, voice disturbed by fear:

'B-before you do anything hasty... Think of the advantages of having the finest hacker at your gang's service! I, I got new gear this morning and its top tech…'

His trembling fingers grabbed a laptop to show them.

'Oh, no no no. I'm gonna kill you.' She quickly guaranteed charging and pointing her gun, not waiting to give him false hope.

'W-what if you didn't?' He pleaded, wiping his face with his sweaty hands. 'Please, please spare my life!'

The Boss tilted her head and thought for a second. Not that she was used to compassion, but she didn't really hate Matt.

'Kid, you better give me a good reason to be so nice.' She hesitated, still aiming at him.

'I do! I can achieve whatever you ask me to, I am a better hacker than her.' He pointed at Kinzie.

'What? Just shoot this bastard Boss!' The young woman with red hair reacted, walking towards Matt.

The Boss raised a halting hand in the air to make Kinzie stop, and slowly pulled her gun away.

'Tell you what Miller. You don't fuck with us and, if I ever need a favor from you... You'll say yes. Then you will swallow your pride and will apologize to the lady here. Deal?'

'Holy fucking deal!' He answered, delighted.

'But one last advice, kid. You back stab us and...' The Boss taped with the sides of her gun softly on his cheek and he winced. '...Well, you know.'

She then offered him her hand, inviting him to get up and Matt happily grabbed it, sealing this new alliance and second chance to live.

'Does this mean I have to wear purple now?' The young hacker asked, worried.

'Don't make me change my mind man.'

'I'll shush.'

A week later...

Getting Matt and his gang to colab with us turned out to be an excellent move. We weren't on the Syndicate's list for the time being, and actually managed to bribe our way into tranquility. Had this happened years ago, there would be no questions asked and certainly The Saints would be making a move to exterminate any concurrence. But now, the last thing I was wishing for was another gang war. But to be perfectly honest, that wasn't he reason why I kept Miller around.

Ever since that night something has gotten into my skin. The same thoughts kept coming back, turning into obsession.

I tried to keep my cool, to hide from the guys what was going on and everyone was acting like they were believing me. Everyone but Gat, that is.

That day we got into an argument because he kept asking me questions, sticking his nose into my business. Out of concern, I know; but it was really starting to piss me off.

'I know what you're thinking about.' He said. 'You've been weird all fucking week long, talking to that Miller kid. I ain't dumb Boss. Why do you need a hacker now that you're leaving the Saints?'

'I thought he could help finding something, just in case.' I caved, unable to bullshit him.

'Just in case?'

'Yeah, just in case.' I snapped, starting to lose my temper. 'It's my life Gat...'

'Right. You are free to ruin it just after you got yourself out of that hole.'

'Shut up.' I said, banging my fists on the couch and he did the same to the wall. He pulled his gun and fired some shots on it out of frustration (Our flat was new but already had numerous small holes everywhere).

I held his arm and stopped him, not wishing to wake up Daniel with the noise.

'You should meet someone, honestly, it's driving you nuts.' He started.

'Pff. What the fuck?!' I turned, waving my hand in the air with extreme annoyance. 'Is this a joke?'

'No it's not a joke...' He spoke more softly, trying to reason. 'I know it hurts. After Eesh I couldn't go balls deep for a whole fucking year, but then I moved on. You if weren't so dumb you could've had Max back, but now that ship sailed. Don't spend your whole life in mourning, Boss.'

I haven't been with a dude since Carlos. Truth was, I didn't want to. My body healed enough to yearn for sex again by now, but the very thought of it felt like betrayal. How could I be intimate with someone after he left this world, and by my own fault?

But Gat, and God was I pissed at him for it, he was right. It wasn't healthy. At some point, I had to move on.

I sighed, disarmed. Gat was trying to pull me back to shore, how could I keep being mad at him. I tapped on his shoulder friendly, unable to say another word.

'Come on, just think about it.' He concluded. 'I'm off to bed.'

I kept watching his silhouette until it disappeared up the wide staircase. Our new flat was huge. It reflected well how filthy rich every single one of us was by that point. The ceiling of the living room we were was high enough to shelter a very tall statue of a Spartan warrior. The architecture was modern and spacious.

After checking on Daniel's sleep I couldn't go to bed, confronted to a dilemma.

I opened a bottle of wine and headed back to the living room. I felt an unbeatable need to think straight. I kept walking barefoot over the samples of a crappy photoshoot I've done earlier that week for a magazine, and that were scattered on the floor.

I looked through the huge windows of the penthouse to the pool : Outside the crackling sound of distant thunder announced a summer rain under the dark grey clouds.

The wind was blowing strong, whistling as it waved the surface of the water. It was freaking loud, as if some force was wishing to warn me of something, to keep me from going back to sleep.

There was something mystical, unreal about that night. Something eerie as if the past was suddenly coming back.

My mind kept returning to the masked man in the motorcycle, trying to find a connection. Any hope that Carlos could be alive. But no reasonable explanation came, nothing to make me even dare to believe it was possible.

I sat over the pictures, defeated.

'He is gone. Don't do that to yourself. Gat is right, don't go there again.'

Taken by goosebumps, I jumped a bit when my phone vibrated over the coffee table.

A message from Matt.

'Found something but don't be too excited. Some random people claim to have recognized Carlos Mendoza after his death. Got this info from social media and it lead me to Sephren Nichols TV special. One unaired episode called 'Secrets of the Pyramid', claims to have footage of him .'

I cursed a bit under my breath. Matt's source wasn't serious at all. I remembered that conspiracy theory show, that aired every Friday after hours on Channel Six. Bullshit beyond levels. I hated it since there was one ridiculous episode about my friend Lynn, suggesting that she became a Zombie and that she haunted the canals of Stilwater. Come on. Now what, was Carlos supposed to be a Zombie too?

'There is nothing else but if we don't try, we will never know. I will dig on my side.'

To think about it...

He was right. If I didn't try, I would forever blame myself for doing nothing.

I remained pensive for a second, then, taken by sudden resolution grabbed my coat and headed towards the door.

I texted him back on my way down to the garage:

'Thanks Matt, I will dig on my side too.'

The outskirts of the city were almost empty at those hours.

Steelport's and road lights only, in the background, casted a bit of contrast on the somber highway.

From afar, two headlights appeared, bringing a bit of life to that deserted landscape.

A large purple vehicle followed a long road ahead, then took a hard turn that crossed to a suspended bridge under a sign in which the directions read: 'Stilwater.'

It kept going through the highway for an hour or so, until it reached the city. Finally, it stopped in front of those iron gates, under a big sign: 'Mourning Woods Cemetery.'

The gates were closed at that hour, but The Boss simply put on reverse, backing off a little, then accelerated, smashing it open with massive front of the car.

She got off the vehicle and opened the trunk, retrieving a snow shovel from it.

As the gang leader walked around the empty graveyard, she lit the torch on her phone and put it on the front pocket of her coat as a source of permanent light. It projected a moving shadow under the crosses and mausoleums.

The Boss took a while to orient herself, but finally halted in front of three tombstones that stood side by side, marked with a Fleur de Lys. One could say someone was guiding her, making the hairs in the back of her neck stand up.

She casted the light on them, taken by strange emotions. There were carved the names of: Aisha Keith, Lin Feng and Juan Carlos Mendoza.

'Here we are again guys.' She said to herself. Without wasting any time she started to dig the ground under Carlos' name.

It took her a while to do the job alone. With concentrated will, she dug the shovel in the ground and tossed the earth away at a pile next to it. Several minutes passed until she suddenly stopped:

She leapt a bit in anticipation, the shovel just hit something hard. A bit of dark wood appeared, peaking through the earth.

Not wasting any time, she got to her knees and continued the digging barehanded, tossing handfuls of dust and brushing it away with her fingers.

Something shone then slightly in the dim light.

A dirty, golden cross was engraved on the surface of the lid.

She finally managed to get most of the coffin to appear, and got the corners clear, then inserted the shovel in the gap to use it as a crowbar.

'It's for you I'm doing this Carlos.'

She expected to have to do some serious levering, but it wasn't sealed so hard. Just nails were securing it, and only the weight of the solid wood kept in place. She kept forcing the shovel, and the top was finally lose, broken in it's articulations. She took one deep breath to prepare herself to whatever could come from it, and couldn't help but to feel a knot in her stomach at the thought that maybe she was about to contemplate the remains of the man she never stopped loving. With one more sight the lid was pushed out the way.

The Boss turned her head away for a moment, coughing, then avidly leaned towards the coffin:

Carlos was notoriously shorter than this skeleton. It could never have been him.

The Boss sat at the edge of the hole she dug, nodding and smiling in victory.

About two hours later later her and Shaundi were sitting inside a Danville, at Freckle Bitch's drive through. Shaundi was still wearing her PJ's under her coat and seemed very impressed with the news. Both girls were discussing it excitedly and noisily.

'So you drove in the middle of the night and decided to do some grave desecration...'

The Boss replied, still covered in dust while sipping her coke:

'Of course. Do you think I could sleep after that?'

'But, Boss, how is this possible? We'd buried him.'

'Bruno was with Carlos that day. We never saw him again after that.' The Boss theorized. 'I called some people at a lab and they will take a sample to confirm that.'

'There is just one thing, if he is alive, why he never looked for us?'

At this the gang leader's lips twitched, it was hard to say it:

'Maybe... He's still angry because it was my fault, you know...'

'Boss. You didn't see it coming.'

After our nocturnal snack Shaundi and I went to break into Nichols' mansion and shake him up.

In no time the former host caved and confessed that 'Secrets of The Pyramid' was indeed recorded, but never aired. Ultor put a lot of pressure on him to keep quiet about that back in the day, going to the point of discrediting his show into cancellation.

After that information it took weeks of searching until we found a trail, then the actual episode upload on a forgotten website with terrible, shitty quality.

The sightings of this supposed Carlos were filmed right here in Steelport! But then... The Luchador! It could explain everything.

Impatiently, I took the expensive gear clumsy out of Matt's table, fast forwarding it to the part I needed to see: Nothing more than security camera footage and low resolution shots, but my heart skipped a bit. It seemed to me that the man on the video carried himself and moved just like Carlos did.

My heart was beating so fast, I was so drunk on hope that I actually grabbed squashed Matt's hand under mine convulsively.

'Piece of cake. Just give me time.' The hacker kid promised me, painfully trying to free his hand. 'I will look for anything that looks like that man in every camera around Steelport.'

Salander District Church, weeks later...

'Sorry M'am. We have to close now.'

I sighed to the Sacristan, it was the second time that he came to see me that night.

I nodded, vanquished:

'I will be on my way. Thanks.'

'Another wasted day...' I thought, in the semi darkness of that place. Candlelight danced everywhere, illuminating sacred statues of saints, real ones that is.

It was easily the fifth time I have been to that church. All because Matt found a match there. I would come first thing in the morning, and wait until closing hours.

But now it was late so I was about to get up, and call it a night. I would come back tomorrow...

It was when I heard steps outside.

The sacristan looked outside, then after a short hesitation opened the door again, looking at his own watch, clearly pissed off and eager to leave. 'Please hurry up, we were just closing.'

A man walked into the church. He was wearing a black sports jumper and his face was covered by a hood. Something in his way of walking seemed sad and what else? A bit defeated, but familiar. I stood there, trying to act casual.

My heart would skip a beat, I gulped.

I could hear that famous pumping into my ears, all my awareness was suddenly very concentrated on the vision.

Only a glimpse of his face was visible, as the light was flickering weak.

I couldn't distinguish his features clearly, but he had a regular face, light skin and a black eye patch, kind of like a pirate.

He passed right next to me, I kept still at my spot instinctively, like if iI was praying, and he didn't notice me.

He stopped, I saw him doing a quick movement with his hand to cross himself and his hood slip. He had his back turned at me, all I saw was a silhouette with short dark hair, a regular sized scar on the top of the skull.

He then sat at the first row, tilted forward and head down, hands on his chin, like lost on deep thinking.

For a second I just froze there.

I wanted to check him better, at the same time I was afraid to kill this sweet hope in my chest. Walking forward, my legs were very shaky but I tried my best to act casual.

Now in front of me there was the marbled stone of the aisle, decorated with golden ornaments that were polished and made a perfect mirror.

I lowered my head as if I was immersed in praying just to catch a better vision of the reflex of the man sitting behind me.

All the pain, all the missing in my heart melted. The man in the reflection was still young, his large, chocolate eye looking down, full lips moving softly and quietly in prayer. He was a bit different, maybe his emotional state, surely the reconstructive surgery he had undergone, but still handsome, still himself. I would recognize him always, no matter what.

I turned to him, letting the lights of the candles illuminate fully my face.

'Carlos...!' She pleaded in his direction, her voice was perfectly clear but not firm.

He looked up in the direction of the voice and saw a woman in front of him, suddenly alarmed. He thought he recognized the voice of someone that was in his thoughts more often than he wished, someone he was sure would never show up again, it was strange, in that light skinned woman standing two steps away from him, a dark coat on her back, hair pulled up in a tight bun.

She didn't change so much. More makeup, different hair. But same look. Same voice. Same accent when pronouncing his name.

He shook his head slowly from side to side, unsurely, eyes wide open.

His lips moved, it was clear that he was sayin 'Boss', but no sound came out.

He was mostly sure their paths would never cross again. Even if he pictured it happening many times in his head, a few actually while siting at that very bench. He thought he would be angry, and relive pretty much every awful feeling that he had that day he went to the Saint's Hideout and would find out she was with Max.

But in that moment it didn't exist, something else was there taking suddenly all the room, leaving no empty spot left for resentment and bitter memories. It was happiness, pure and simple. The child like one, the one you feel when you see a very dear face after an awfully long time. There was no room left to think of her forgetting him for Max, the hardness of those years trying to make a life again, or to think of the shock his appearance could cause on her. It was so good but, funny, it also hurt like hell at the same time.

It was her, she was back. This person so missed was again standing next to him, looking for him. Shecame to look for him. All the rest didn't matter. Like all was fine, life was wonderful no matter how bad it could be from now on.

All of this just lasted a moment, and for a while they just stared at each other quietly, both recovering from the initial shock. He thought he knew better by now or was too old to feel so childish again. He wouldn't lie and try to hide it from himself, so just lowered his head in sad acceptance and some shame. He didn't want to look at her directly in case she could guess his feelings:

'What do you want...'

The Boss frowned in confusion and was surprised at his reaction.

'What do I want? To see you. Damn Carlos... I mourned you, I thought you were murdered and now I find you here, alive.'

He didn't move.

She understand his reaction all wrong and froze, relating it to him not being able to forgive her for the consequences of her provocations on Maero. And now you could see a frank dread in her eyes. She blamed herself so much for it all the way, of course he did it too. Surely that is why he disappeared without giving any news. She feared so much he would react like this.

She lowered her head, lips twitching and unable to say anything apart from:

'I'm sorry. I'm so sorry.'

He chuckled bitterly, the light in his heart now dead. 'Guilt. That is why she came back. She feels guilty for what happened to me. She probably needs to hear I forgive her to keep living her life.' And her life meant of course, a life with Max. He felt a void in his stomach.

For a second he savagely thought of denying her that. Like this she would somehow live a lesser happy life next to the man she chose over him. At least he would have that. Her feeling guilty because of him. He never blamed her for what happened with the Brotherhood. If anything he blamed himself for not being a better Lieutenant and being careless enough to get caught. But she took so much from him, hurt him so much. Cant a man have a tiny, ridiculous compensation?

But one look in her direction changed his mind. 'Look at her. She is miserable. Is this the huge love you have for her? Can you live with yourself after ruining the life of someone you love, and who, before walking away with another was so good for you? And fuck, inside a godamn Church? Are you going to become this kind of man?' For everything they had he had to let her walk away from with her peace restored. He had to let her go again. It ached like being stabbed in the heart but that was what had to be done.

'Look...' He started. 'I never blamed you for what happened to me.' There was sincerity in his tone.

That restored her courage to the point she got closer, kneeling next to his seat, touching his arm. She was looking at him with some sort of sad tenderness.

Her being so close suddenly made Carlos realize she was close enough to notice his face better, and pulled away a bit, obviously embarrassed and turning his face to the shadows.

'I don't want your pity.' He pressed more harshly. 'I can handle anyone's but yours. If anything you gave me a chance to live with the Saints for a while, to become someone. I was to blame for been such a no good, mess of a Lieutenant. You came here to have a clean conscience, I'm giving you that. Please, now just go back to your life and leave me alone.'

She listened to his final explosion and merely stood there, shaking. This was the old Carlos she knew, making his comeback from the time he had no self confidence. She hated to see him like this. What the hell happened to him during these years?

'Pity...? No.' She spoke in a whisper. Her face contorted in a nervous laughter. And then she was getting increasingly pissed off, like always when something would get in her way 'I NEVER! Do you really think that what this is about? Guilt, more likely! Love, fuck yeah! It killed me all this time and never a day went by without me thinking of how much, oh just how much I... fucked... up!'

She was yelling in rage now:

'Damnit, I felt so guilty for you, and her voice went from psycho anger to sobbing. 'Because I care so much about you. And if this guy exists.' She pointed at the cross in the altar, stumbling on her words. 'Then He only, knows how much... I mean why would i come here if not to tell...'

She wouldn't finish for not a second later her head was pressed hard against Carlos' shoulder, he kneeled down on the floor too, and placed his arms tightly around her.

'I didn't know that darling... I'm sorry... I missed you too, so much, you have no idea... But what about Max?'

'...Carlos, you don't know how much I suffered after you left us!' The Boss added, for once been all vulnerable, sobbing like a little girl and getting it all off her chest. Her hands were grasping hard on his jumper. 'How can I prove that I love you? I will go where you go, doesn't matter where or how, it's fine by me... Been at your side is more important.'

He realized she also had been very miserable from missing him. He felt a huge relief and also felt right. Happy. Again... It was like all those dark years never happened. Maero and Jessica never happened. He felt his fucking self again.

He kissed her hair, the back of her neck, the tip of her fingers in a desperate attempt to calm her. And like always there was such a loving vibe in his purpose, it did work. He would always have a calming effect on her.

'Max?' She suddenly remembered. 'He will marry again, next year.'

He shifted on the seat, moved, his lips grinned and trembled at the same time.

'But what about the kid?'

'Oh. Daniel, you mean.'

'His?' Carlos took the most obvious (and painful) shot with an unsettled smile. 'It's ok...'

'There was nothing between us.' The Boss shook her head, grinning at the jealously that was written all over him and caressed his arm reassuringly. 'No. Daniel is Vogel's son.'

Carlos face showed shocked surprise, he wasn't sure he was following anymore:

'You had a son with Dane Vogel…?!'

The Boss bursted with laughter at this.

'Of course I didn't. He is my adopted son, sweetheart.'

'A kid...! I've always wanted to have kids with you, doesn't matter how.' Carlos laughed too and kissed her lips, then continued on the subject that clearly was hard for him so they could get it over with:

'All I am saying it's… What happened in your life those years… it's ok. I mean, you had to move on at some point… But now we are back together and for good, just as we planned before.'

'…No one, Carlos.'

'Really...?'

'I had no one after you.' She smirked, and lowered her head.

'No one?' He asked again, sinking deeper in his emotions, as if it was hard to believe so.

The Boss raised her head to look at Carlos. Her eyes were pearling with tears.

'I am not saying it was healthy. But yeah… no one.'

He didn't answer and cupped her face with one hand gently, kissing her.

She frantically start to caress his hair backwards, expanding all of this pent up affection overflowing for years in her heart.

'Damn! You look good...' She said, kissing the side of his lip, and he had to smile as he knew her enough to know this was sincere.

'Wow. What about you then.' He softly stroke her hair with the back of his fingers, watching her from head to toe carefully. 'You look wonderful, lady.'

'Image as Designed had something to do with that...' She admitted with a laugh as she stared down at her boobs, and suddenly they were both laughing together like in the old times, but it was much more than just about the joke.

When you have one of these moments that you feel everything life put you through was worth it, then you know.

The Boss had her laugh interrupted as he pressed his lips again into hers, more hungrily now. She eagerly reciprocated it, shivering with longing and passion.

'Uh...I'm suddenly very aware that we are in a church...' He started.

'Yup. Lets get out of here.'

Hours later we were in this hotel room, finally together after three long years of separation.

So much had happened and nothing had changed.

Unable to say anything after desperately making love, we kept tight in each other's arms in bed, wondering what force of destiny could gift us with that complete happiness after the storm.

Saints' Hideout, Stilwater.

The following week:

Carlos stuck this last piece of luggage in the car, and rushed to open the back door for me. I carefully placed my biggest treasure inside, and fastened the harness of his baby seat.

We looked back one last time at the Hideout, about to be left behind along with our purple sins. For me and Carlos, this was goodbye.

I finally realized that a lot passed us by. I wasn't the same crazy gangsta girl, who used to terrorize Stillwater and make it to the top 5 most wanted. Nor the woman that 10 years after, reclaimed the city from scratch with Gat's help.

I didn't have that will to risk and to claim anymore. Somewhere along this bumpy road it got lost, like I didn't need to prove myself any longer to be deserving of anything.

To be honest, this story was never about redemption. If you expected me at this point to end things on a sweet note of remorse, or a speech on being a better person, I am afraid I will have to disappoint you. Do I regret anything? Not by any chance. Would I do it all the same? Yes, absolutely!

Then, if it wasn't for salvation, what was it for? I don't know, I guess life isn't about a perfect answer, but more about heading you towards where you yearn to be. And now I had found what I was looking for all along.

Earlier that day, I quit. My ears were still fucked up from the noise of all the ammo fired up in the air to celebrate my retirement, and my eyes were filled with tears. But my heart was filled with nostalgia and gratitude as I turned my head to stare at the entrance of the hideout, covered in purple shirts and dear faces.

Turned out I didn't have a gang to belong anymore.

But now… I belonged to my family! Finally, I had everything to lose.

All I could thank for is that we were alive to enjoy it.

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Thank you so so much for reading. :3 :3 :3