Red

"Are you sure you wanna stay here?" I ask Mia for the third time because it's me who doesn't want to leave her here.

She nods softly, her warm hands covering mine over her cheeks.

"I am," she says. "I can't face Eliot. Not yet."

"It's alright," I tell her. "Silver will stay with you and I won't take long. It's just a café across the block; you need me, just call and I'll run back to you."

She chuckles. "Just go, Red! I'll be fine," she utters with confidence, and I think I believe her now.

"Okay," I breathe. "We're leaving tonight so get some rest while at it."

"Aye, aye, Captain. Just give me this"—she manages to steal my gun from the pocket of my jeans—"and I'll be good."

"Mia—"

"I know how the safety works now," she interrupts.

A small frown flits on my face. "And you're Gal Gadot? I only taught you about it an hour ago, Mia." I can't help but laugh.

"Gal Gadot is sexy. Why not?" she replies in a coquettish tone of voice, her eyes devouring my manly patience so intently. I nearly go hard until he says, "I need it for precaution, Mr. Hunter. Now go!" She pulls the ammo almost expertly as she's checking the rounds left in the cartridge, her eyes on me.

"Okay." I pull myself together by expelling a long breath. "Anything I can bring for you? Anything but the pie only your Abuela can make?" I take caution because that's exactly what she said she wanted to eat today.

She burst into laughter.

"Something sour, please. Pickles with olive potato chips will do." She jabs the magazine back, pinches her one eye shut, and then points the gun at me. "Boom," she whispers.

My eyebrows harden but all I manage to say is "Okay stop being crazy," and walk over to kiss her temple before taking my leave.

Kenna and I find Eliot at a small speakeasy café not farther from our logging. Incased with warmth, probably from the burning woods on the fireplace, the inside is the opposite of the snow-capped rooftop outside. A few folks are having the usual, picking and ordering their coffees and bread while adjusting their winter gear—scarves, fur coats, and gloves.

A booth with an entrance view is where the young Kingston is. He waves and we waltz over, the emotions between us anything but joyous. I get why Mia didn't want to meet him; he doesn't look well even at first glance. He smiles, however, and gives us a gladdened gesture as though we somehow share part of his pain or whatever the hell he is feeling right now.

"How is Mia?" he asks.

"Hanging on. She's traumatized," I reply matter-of-factly. He nods gently, assessing the answer with calmness. "Did you see him?" I ask about his father's body.

He nods again, sadly. "We're doing arrangements to transport him back to Portland. We'll cremate him. The sooner the better," he answers, his hands resting around his steamed coffee mug like a scared little boy.

Dread and sadness seem to eat him alive deep within, but he's still strong-willed, I imagine. He's hurt but barely remorseful. I'm slightly amazed but I understand him too well to dwell. He was fully aware of the retribution his actions or reactions toward his father's legacy were to be, and that's why he is who he is right now.

"My mother is a mess. I told her it was an accident but she thinks you killed him," he says with a laugh full of pity, but I'm sure it's anyone but me. "She was sick. Her obsession over my father was sick and maybe now she'll get better, who knows?"

"Yeah, maybe," I respond. "And it's best it stays that way. I'm the one who killed him, not Mia. Understood?"

"Understood," he answers gently. "Now where is he? Your guy. Let's get it over with."

"What about Derik?" Kenna cuts in. She leans over the tab, giving Eliot closer scrutiny. "What's his say in this? He's your brother and he wanted all of it for himself so what's popping now that Daddy dearest has kicked the bucket and left a load of horseshit behind?"

Eliot's lips part but he's not haste to respond. He finally lifts the mug and sips whatever's inside it before saying, "If you're talking about the Kingston empire, then my answer is very limited at the moment. Me letting the X-File reach the Feds means we're losing a big deal. My brother has to accept loss or he goes to jail for being part of the bad guys. I gave him the choice but what he chooses is not up to me."

"You're okay with losing?" Kenna asks.

I'm not as curious as she is. I've accepted the fact that Eliot Kingston is one of a kind. He's a silent killer—the most dangerous type to come across. He's stuck on the precipice between good and evil; whatever side he chooses to step into, he's gonna be a formidable opponent to the one forgone.

He can be better or worse than his father if he chooses to be and Derek Kingston stands no chance against him.

"Yes, I'm okay," Eliot answers with that very same smile. "Sometimes starting over means losing it all. I just need my family back and this is the only way. As long as we have Kingston Pharmaceutical, everything will fall back in place. We'll go back to the way things used to be when I was just a little boy lowering around the halls watching people trying to save lives and not take them. The time when Patrick Kingston told me "This is us being part of the future. This is us saving the world" and that's what will happen."

"Whatever sails your ship, dude, and I don't think Marlow will show up," Kenna says, and it's jet cur to order something from the menu.

She's right. Marlow won't show up. A text message rings on my phone and he says he's at home.

With my... babymama?

"Son of a bitch," I snap under my breath.

Mia

"Mom!" I can't believe my eyes.

I lower my gun and hurl myself forward until she basis me into her arms.

"Oh, I was so worried, Mia! I was so, so, worried!" She cries and embraces me so tightly I may break.

Her scent and her warmth awaken the baby in me. I cry with her, look at her, and u think I'm not remaining one not. It's indeed Sophie Diaz, my super mom who came to Alaska.

"How?" I ask, confused. "How did you know I'm here and who are those—" I pause and take a proper look at the guy I nearly shot at.

Silver seems to know him given the shock registered on his face after knocking him down. But the man just laughed despite everything and now that I feel like he sounds and looks familiar.

"Well, shit," he says while standing upright. He's tall and stout, middle-aged, wearing an expensive Armani suit and a floppy hat. "What a way of greeting an old friend, huh?"

"Well, not the kind of story I heard recently, Marlow. Things changed and shit got shittier," Silver replies while hosting his gun back.

We were having a chat about his relationship with Red and Kenna when the door burst open and this guy rang the doorbell making us all wary.

"Hey, I'm still me. I only brought the lady to see her daughter and that doesn't seem like an evil plan, does it?"

"Just shut up, Hijo De Puta!" Mom recoils and I'm almost thunderstruck at the nature of their weird acquaintance. "Where is Red? I heard what happened, Mia, are you okay? Did that man hurt you or the baby? Did he—"

"Mom, I'm fine," I tell her briskly to lessen her dread. "It was horrible but I pulled it through. I'm alright now and Red is too. He went out to meet Patrick's son."

Mom sighs with relief. She's here, damn it! Still beautiful even in a pair of old jeans and boots and a long jacket lacking taste. She's still my gorgeous Mom.

"I'm glad." She pats my hair, her teary smile as tender and loving as always. "I'd die if anything happened to you, baby. I can't handle it, do you understand me? I can't, Mia."

"I know, Mom. I'm here. Okay? I'm here and I need to know how you ended up here with this man." I cast a glance at the Armani guy who's had is now off bit his smile as on ad a crown. "Have we met before?" He looks hell-familiar.

"Marlow!" we hear through the door and I know it's Red running frantically.

"Here come the theatrics," remarks the Armani guy, Marlow if I'm right. "All is well, kid. We are just having a family reunion and—"

A punch strikes through his face and what follows is nothing I expected. Red grabs the collar of his jacket and slams him against the door, but he just laughs it out.

"I didn't touch her. She's okay! They're both okay!" the Armani guy says in a low but controlled voice.

Panting, Red looks around the room. He sees me, then my mom and a wee bit of relief deters his anger. Slowly he freed the Armani's collar and turned toward me and my mom who are standing next to each other, baffled.

"I'm pretty sure I've met him before," I pipe in, almost certain of the memory semblance playing in my mind.

"Of course, we have, pretty lady," the guy replies rather excitedly while adjusting his suit jacket to previous perfection.

And the name "pretty lady" with his voice and Southern accent hits the back of my mind.

Yes, the tavern guy!

"How?" I take a step forward to where he is. In my peripheral, I see Red shutting his eyed in a busted fashion. Looking at him, I snap, "He was part of it, right? The whole thing was staged by you, wasn't it?"

"Yeah," Red replies.

I don't even know what I'm feeling, honestly. So I laugh and laugh until the whole room grows silent and colder.

"Well," I say with a sigh, back to my normal composure, "feel at home, a tavern owner. You had me fooled back then. Both of you." As my eyes are longer on Red for a short moment and I know with all the forces of the universe surrounding us, he wants to at least hold my hand and explain himself.

But I don't let him. Not right now.

"You're mad at him, aren't you?" My mom asks me as we stand on the balcony, overlooking the freezing mentoring perched with cars, dustbins, and a pile of snow on the road.

"At Red? No." I pull the sides of my jacket together, breathing out any sort of frustration canoodling inside me, although barely do I want to regale it. "We have mutual understanding so none of that will stop me from having my happily ever after, Mom." She draws her head back, sharply. Laughing, I say, "Yeah, it probably doesn't exist as my own experience speaks for itself but I have to believe, don't you think? I must believe."

"Who said it doesn't exist?" Mom enthuses me with an easy smile I never knew I missed until now. "Baby, your happily ever after is being happy with the choices you made along the way. Some days you'll cry, and many more you'll laugh but it's all okay as long as you don't get to regret choosing your path."

And I know I won't. I regret not even choosing Patrick as a husband because I wouldn't have met Red if it weren't for him. In the end, I am where I was supposed to be and I'm gonna fight for things to be better from this moment on.

"Well," I breathe, looking up at the bleak sky, deprived of sunlight. "Red asked me to go with him to meet his family and I said yes."

"Oh?" I can feel Sophie's enthusiasm for the news. Smiling, I look at her glowing face with a mass of raven hair perfecting her olive skin as though she's been sun-kissed by the Acapulco sun. "Go ahead, Mia. You love him and he moved you and I know hell take good care of you and my grandchild. He's proved it. As your mother, I don't think I have any reason to advise you otherwise."

I believe this is the first time Sophie Diaz has approved any of my choices. Se couldn't stand my decision to leave New Orleans at the age of seventeen, and most especially marrying an Old billionaire when I was just twenty-one.

"Thanks, Mom." I stand upright and sigh. "Now I tell me how you ended up with that guy. I think I understand anything but it's as if he brought you here. Do you know him?"

Mom's face changes abruptly. First anger, then disappointment, and at last laughter that I can't quite explain.

"I need tequila. You got some?" she asks me.

From behind us we hear, "Has someone mentioned tequila? Because I have a sealed bottle right here fresh from Mexico."

It's Kenna.

With that, we head into the kitchen where Mom tells us all about her encounter with Marlow, the guy who stalked her from Portland to New Orleans claiming she stood his heart.

"You believe him?" I quiz my mom.

"Of course not. He's a liar! He wanted to use me as a bargaining chip in his shady business and he confessed everything. He's the one who told me that you were kidnapped and I made him bring me here," Sophie explains bitterly. She takes places the tiny glass on the table after a third shot and says, "I don't know who he is but he kept his promise and that's all that matters. He brought me to my daughter." Tears linger in her eyes as she takes my hand in here over the table.

I just smile for I don't know how else to react.

"You made Marlow Seyfried confess his intentions? Just like that? Woe!" Kenna remarks, astonished. "That's new. I doubt know what's going on but that doesn't sound like him at all. Not that self-centered bastard."