Eris rolls over, the morning sun hot on her bare skin. There's an arm over her stomach, skin against her shoulder.

"Nikolas?" Eris' voice is slightly grating from sleep.

"Who else would it be?" comes his reply, mumbled against her neck.

According to the dream Eris just woke from, it should be Adam. But her head is a little dazed, so she wasn't sure if it was Peter or Nikolas.

Sitting up, Eris realizes she's hungover. She brings her hand to her forehead, then pushes through her hair. She knows the feeling, but she hasn't been hungover in a long time.

"Martini girl," Nikolas mumbles into the pillow, his hand shuffling around for her. "Come back."

"How much did I drink?" Eris asks, reaching over him for her phone.

"A lot," Nikolas replies. "Like, forty."

"I'd be dead if I drank forty martinis, Nikolas." Eris unlocks her phone. "How did we get home?"

Nikolas makes a muffled noise into the pillow. "I drove."

Oh, so she'd been drunk drunk. She scrolls, unsure of what she's looking for. Maybe a text or a call from a man who doesn't have her number and never asked for it. Someone who couldn't care less who she's waking up with.

I think I just wanted to know what it would be like. The moment Eris spoke those words, everything shattered. She's not cunning Eris that outsmarts the cops anymore, she's a kid who falls for them. That's what he'd said. That she was just a kid.

Eris tosses aside the covers, refusing to succumb to this headache. Nikolas mumbles something behind her and Eris ignores it. She gets into the shower and scrubs every pore free of the alcohol in anger. Her skin turns red.

If Adam wanted to play the vicious game, if he wasn't going to get down on his knees and thank Eris for the years of kindness—for the risks she took last night for Daphne, then she'd play it too. And nobody plays the vicious game like Eris.

She sends Peter out to slash his tires first. Two of them, so a spare won't fix it. Peter comes back, saying his car isn't at his apartment. He says it's at Sarah's.

Eris has to stop clenching her fingers because she's afraid her nails might draw blood. Sarah, the idiot. Sarah, the touchy, gentle little girl that shouldn't be with Adam. Her house. At eight in the morning. She tells Peter to slash them anyway.

It makes her feel slightly better, but it's not enough. Since she has almost all of Adam's banking information, she has Nikolas call pretending to be him and cancel both his credit cards. She's crossing lines right left and center and couldn't care less.

Adam knows the tires are her doing the moment he walks out of the house. She might as well have carved her name into his car.

He takes Sarah's car to his apartment to get his things. His lease is monthly, so he won't lose too much. He calls a tow truck for the car so they can replace the tires, and he drives the SUV to work for the night shift. Wilkes is still frigid after the candy-heart incident, leaving Adam to piece together the morale of the officers on the Diakos case while juggling his other cases. They received an anonymous tip of a dealing happening outside a liquor store, and Adam has enough evidence on the owner of the store, Leonardo Tucci, to suspect that he's selling. He orders a stakeout on the back entrance and does cruiser work for most of the night. Through the long hours of driving, Eris' comments about Daphne bounce around in his head. On the conditional that Eris was telling the truth...

Adam stops for coffee at three-fifteen in the morning. The city is almost entirely asleep since the clubs and bars have all just closed, leaving the city lights as Adam's only comfort.

In the drive-thru, Adam's card declines. He tries his other one, but that one does, too. He's never been short on cash before in his life—he's been saving and working since he was twelve—so he knows this is Eris, too.

Adam apologizes to the worker and goes to leave, but she offers to pay and thanks him for keeping the streets safe. Adam takes it.

As soon as he pulls out, the radio chatters to life from the guys at the stakeout.

"Sergeant, we've got a dealing back here," Dipper is saying. "You want us to arrest the guy and bring him back to the station, or do you want us to wait for you so we can strike a deal for the big fish?"

It's always the same big fish. There's no point in that anymore. "Arrest him," Adam says. "Bring him to the station. I'll meet you there for questioning."

Adam gets to the station at three-thirty, and the officers get there shortly after. They put Leonardo down in the interrogation room, and Adam sees a massive, burly and tattooed man in the room. His face is stuck in a permanent scowl.

Adam picks up the file outside the room and flips through it. They've been trying to get Leo for a long time, and only since they pulled funding on Eris has Adam really started coming down on the man. Plus, the tip. Adam opens the door and shuts it behind him.

"How long you been dealing fentanyl and ecstasy, Leo?" he asks, setting his coffee down on the table. Leonardo is cuffed, but his eyes throw daggers. He doesn't answer, but he smiles. He holds up a finger—one year, he's been selling. He won't say it aloud, because this is recorded, but only the audio.

"Okay then," Adam leans back. "Our files say you've been on watch for nearly a year, but you've always been good at hiding. Why the sudden slip ups?"

Adam doubts Leonardo will fall for this kind of tactic, but it's useless anyway. There's enough to put him away based on what's the police already have on Leo.

To his question, Leonardo gives Adam a sickly smile. He hasn't ever been good at hiding. But the police never paid Leo any attention until Eris pulled her stupid little trick. The reason he's here is because of her.

"I can help you with her," Leonardo grinds out, knowing Adam will know who he's talking about.

"Lots of people say that," Adam says. "Very few have any sort of solid connection to her."

"Oh, I've got a solid connection." Leo leans forward. "Solid as fuck."

"Chances are she knows you're in custody already," Adam says, flipping through the file.

"No doubt she does. She put me in custody."

Adam glances up. That's interesting. He looks back down.

"Call it my own fault, whatever you will," Leo snarls. "I pissed the bitch off; I pay the price. But I ain't never thought she'd have the hots for you enough to put me in jail."

Adam looks up for good. "What's that?"

"You know, I ain't even really sure if she did it for you, or if she did it because I just pissed her off enough. But either way, I'm in here because that bitch was getting into people's heads."

The tip. "You buy from Nyx, then?"

"The hard, bulk shit," Leo says. "Hundreds of thousands a year she makes on me."

Still no confession of selling, though. "Excuse me, then," Adam says, shifting. "I'm confused. You're saying Nyx voluntarily put a massive profit of theirs in jail?"

"That's what's so scary about this bitch—you ain't know what crazy-ass shit the maniac is gonna pull off next. She's fucking unhinged, and she ain't like that I wanted to get out of her grasp. That, or the girl just has it bad for you, and the Dashie threats really got to her."

"The what?"

"Dashie."

Adam blinks. "What's a Dashie?"

Leonardo scoffs. "Man, you ain't even know the name of your own kid?"

Adam runs his tongue over his teeth once. Daphne. Eris has been telling the truth—and she might've even taken Leo out for Adam. Then slashed his tires and cancelled his cards.

"What's the plea," Leonardo says.

"You're not getting a plea. You're going to jail."

Leonardo makes that scoffing noise again. "You want Eris. I'm the only way you're gonna get her."

"You're useless if she knows you're in custody, which—considering you say she put you here—seems to be the case."

"I know how Nyx works. I know Eris."

"You know her other buyers?"

"Eris don't let her buyers know the other buyers."

"You know where her stores are?"

"Man, she don't tell me that shit. But I'd guess it's the penthouse."

Adam collects the file. "Again, Leo. You're useless for a plea, and you're going to jail."

Leonardo is starting to get a little desperate. He always thought snitching on Eris would be his fallback. "I know where she does the loading. She always uses other companies that would normally deliver to Nyx—liquor, food, decoration—"

"Right. And she does all her actual deliveries of those things at the same time, which means thirty different companies are loading back there in one night, and the law doesn't let us intercept every one of those to see which have cocaine in them. We have to know what we're looking for." Adam slaps the file down. "You're going to jail. Your bail is set for five hundred thousand dollars, so say goodbye to the free world, Mr. Tucci."

Adam stands, leaving Leonardo to curse Eris' name over and over. The officers come in to take him to the holding cells, and Leonardo spends the entire time thinking of ways to get that bail money. He doesn't have that kind of money right off the bat, and he has no clue how to get it, but he'll deal with it somehow. Get that bail money and take the hell off. Europe, South America. Something. He just needs the money—

"Leonardo Tucci? Your bail is paid."

Leonardo glances up at the cop in front of his cell. Nobody he knows has that kind of money to just throw around except—

Leonardo scoffs. No way. He barks out a laugh. "The fuck is that bitch playing at?" he says to the cop.

The cop clearly has no clue what he's talking about. He takes Leonardo back up to the main floor, handing him a bag of the things he came with, minus the drugs.

Leonardo walks out into the parking lot. He has no ride, but he can walk to the bus stop. He makes his way out of the parking lot and as he does, he spots a car that looks out of place. Sleek, black, shining.

Leonardo scoffs one more time. He pulls open the passenger door of the Maserati and gets in.

"You're a crazy fucking bitch."

Eris has her knees up by the wheel, the seat back like she's been waiting for a while. She's reading a book—some mythology story—and she holds a finger up to get Leo to wait.

"You pay half a million in bail to get me out of the jail that you put me in?" he pushes.

She holds the finger higher. She marks her page, shuts the book, then lowers the finger.

"You're going to make a list for me," she says. "It's going to have the name and numbers of each and every one of the buyers you sell to. I'm going to replace you."

"Like hell you are. I'm getting the fuck out of America, thanks to you."

"No, you're not. I have your phone records, your bank statements, and I have your pregnant girlfriend's information as well. The moment you try to leave the city, the cops will be on you."

Leonardo figured as much. His situation is getting shittier and shittier. "If you just gonna fuck me around here and not let me leave, why the fuck you think I'm giving you the names of my buyers?"

"Because if you do, I'll lawyer you. You'll get fifteen years with parole down from life."

"Ain't no way you can pull that kind of switch."

"I think you know I can. Any other lawyer is not only going to suck the money from you and Nessa, but they're not going to pull anything off. Give me a list of the buyers, I'll lawyer you and charge you nothing, get you fifteen years with parole, and replace you while you rot in jail."

Leonardo laughs quietly. So he's been played. Good and played. "You're damn brilliant, Eris. You shouldn't be dealing. You should be some sort of NASA engineer or some shit."

Eris starts the car. "I get that a lot. Get out. Have the list at Nyx by Sunday."

Leonardo can't help but admire it. Admire how she just sucked and drained every dealer in the business. Played pawns against each other when she's the queen.

He gets out of the car. He'll have the list at Nyx by Sunday.

But he might have some other ideas.