Devlin moved in first.

He raised his fist and ran it into Peter's face but it caught him in the mouth which sent him sprawling. Devlin watched as Peter stood, still unsure if he should be hurting him.

"That all you got?" He asked snidely, licked his busted lips, and laughed, a complacent look lining his features.

Enraged at that, Devlin swung at him but only grazed his head with his fist as Peter ducked and kicked Devlin on the back which sent him lurching. Peter leaped at him and began pounding his clenched hand on his guts. Devlin grunted as each blow met him but it didn't hurt, how could it? He'd been preparing for this for so long and was completely ready for setbacks like this, but he needed to win. His life depended on it. And when he looked up and saw the person he had to defeat to survive, the hurt of betrayal sprang up in him.

Angry, Devlin blocked the next two blows and then snatched Peter's fist that was headed for his face, twisted his arm, and spun him. Peter did a counterattack by turning swiftly and throwing a heavy punch. His fist was aimed at Devlin's stomach, but Devlin managed to dodge and catch it in his rib cage. The contact probably broke some of his ribs as Devlin felt sharp pains at his sides. That was nothing. He lunged forward, ducked Peter's incoming fist, and maneuvered around him by snatching his body and grabbing him by the neck, throttling him. He lifted Peter off his feet as he was way taller and more heavily built.

Peter used his fingers to scratch at Devlin's fists as he struggled for air.

"Beg for mercy." Devlin snarled under his breath. "Before I snap your windpipes."

He didn't. His men, on Fener's command, gathered, ready to shoot Devlin down but Peter stubbornly refused to give them the go-ahead.

But Devlin let him go suddenly when Pamela screamed his name, a little too late. A pocket knife tore at his shoulders as he was able to duck in time to prevent it from being plunged into his neck. Devlin used both hands to hold down the geyser of blood that was squirting from his carotid. He angrily whacked Peter across the face, sending him staggering backward. He twisted his arm and unleashed a kick that knocked Peter off his feet and sent the knife flying.

"That is for the money you made me lose." He held him by the shirt and raised him to his feet and punched him again, one harder than the former. "That is for Rob and Dore." He gutted him with his balled fists and kneed him in the groin, making himself deaf to Peter's gurgled groans. "That is for my men that you hurt." The last punch, which Devlin gathered with all of his strength could kill Peter, and he was a hundred percent ready to unleash it. He retreated his hands to gather momentum, ready to finish the betrayer once and for all, when suddenly, everywhere burst with cops.

"Stand down! Stand down! You are surrounded!"

Everywhere became noisy as police radio was shouting instructions along with their siren wail. Peter's men that had been stationed outside had not been able to subdue them, and the remainder of his men who had aimed their guns at Peter when the fight had started was enough to prevent the handful of Bull's men from shooting him.

"I repeat, everyone, drop your weapons! You are surrounded!"

Devlin was glad the cops were around, but he was angry at the same time because he was not satisfied. He still needed to punch the lights out of Peter. He could let him go, pity him, but Peter, although looking weak and bloodied, still had a smug and unremorseful look on his face which irritated the dickens out of him. Devlin angrily gave Peter one last deathly punch that sent him flat on the floor. "And that is for hurting my wife."

"Enough, mister!" A cop yelled at him.

Devlin raised his hands in surrender and stepped back. "You guys are so on time."

"It was hard finding this place. We were up all night combing around." The man answered, walking into the building when a cop signaled for him, and said over his shoulders, "You should thank your stars we didn't give up."

"Is he dead?" Pamela whispered as she came forward to meet Devlin.

"I hope."

"You don't mean that."

In reply, he took Pamela into his arms, his breathing ragged. It was finally over and he was the most heartbroken of all. He had lost not only a brother and a friend but also a companion. It made him want to cry bitterly and sigh in relief all at the same time.

Pamela touched his face, her eyes kind, and understanding. He kissed her forehead, trying to fight the lightheadedness that was washing over him, probably due to the blood he was losing. She was the light amid his darkness, the streak of sunlight behind the dark clouds in his life. She brought sweetener along into his bitter life, giving him hope and reason to live. She was the reason he had come here and he didn't regret it one bit.

She leaned up, just as he leaned down and their lips met in a hot, passionate, and fierce kiss. The molding of their tongues was more than just the molding of tongues, it was a kind of comfort, a kind of escape into a world where there was no evil. It was a kind of recline into a fairy tale movie that starred just the both of them. Even as cops as plenty as an army of ants raided around them, and as paramedics attended to the injured, they both were in another reality, and every other thing around them faded into oblivion. It was the best feeling in the world, one that could not be expressed, either with words, or thoughts but only by the heart.

When they parted, she buried her face in his chest and sobbed. "Thank God this is finally over. Now, we can be happy. Now, we can move on with our lives." She raised her head and looked up into his eyes and his heart skipped beats. Oh how much he loved the woman holding him so tight like he was the most important person in the world! He wiped her tears.

"Yes, baby. I don't ever want to see you cry, the only tears you should shed are tears of joy."

"Really? What if I'm cutting onions and they make my eyes water?"

"Then I'll invent an alternative to cutting onions, all for you." His heart swelled with pride when she laughed. He sighed. "I just can't wait to move on with our normal lives."

"Speaking of moving on, I think we better get going. You stink like a shit wagon."

He laughed and winced when his sides jabbed him but the laughter was worth it. Just moments ago, which seems like ages, when his worst fears had become a nightmare after he found out who Bull was, he had thought he would never be able to laugh again in his life but Pamela had a way of making everything work, even in the direst of situations.

"Besides," She continued. "I'm bleeding. You are too."

"I'm fine." He lied. "Holding you in my arms is the best healing I could ever get."

She gave him a watery smile which elaborated into a grin. He grinned back at her and then studied her arms. "Thankfully you were only grazed, as was I." He lied again. He didn't want her to be worried about him any more than she was already. "The knife didn't touch any of my arteries."

"If it had -"

"Don't think about it."

They automatically, as if on cue reached out for another kiss, though brief. They kissed openmouthed and deep. When they finally broke apart, she continued to run her fingertips over his face as though to assure herself that he was really there. With emotional raspiness and her eyes filling, she said,

"I thought I would never see you again."

"Me too." He stroked her face, her chin. "That would have been torture."

She kissed his palm then her eyes flickered to the cops that were looking around, searching this and that, and arresting people. One of them had Fener in cuffs. "They're gonna arrest you." Her voice sounded strong with emotion.

"I know. But it doesn't matter. The fact that I'll be seeing you is consolation enough."

"I'm gonna camp outside the prison walls with tents." she declared.

"No problem. Provided they allow us to have sex, I'm okay with anything."

"What?" She burst into laughter and he joined her, laughing so hard that his sides hurt. When she sobered, she gave him a look that showed that she would do absolutely anything for him. "I love you." She said. "So, so much."

He knew he loved her too, and all he wished for at the moment was to say it back. He wanted her to know how much she meant to him, how much he would risk just to make her happy – he was already risking his life by letting himself bleed just to touch and hold her in his arms, so yeah he would tell her he loves her and bring his heroism up in every conversation. He grinned at her, ready to say it back.

But he only got as far as opening his mouth.

There was an eruption of gunfire. The shot sounded like a cannon blast and the piercing pain of the bullets that flew into his stomach and back cut him off. Shock registering on his face, he looked down and saw blood gushing from his stomach. He turned sideways and saw Peter with the gun that had shot him, a satisfied look on his face. He aimed it again at Devlin, with the same look but the look lasted only milli-seconds more as the shots from a nearby cop that finished him wiped it off.

Devlin went down, getting drawn into unconsciousness but Pamela's screams lulled him back to consciousness.

"Somebody help!!!!"

Everything started to move in slow motion. The only sounds he could hear were the sound of his heartbeats; other sounds sounded like they were being said from a distance, which was getting farther and farther by the second. The only thing he could feel was the agonizing pain that rippled through his body as he hit the ground.

Tears fell down the sides of his eyes. All he ever wished for was to be happy, to love and be with the woman he loved, and now that he was going to die, he would gladly go because he had removed all threats from her path. Without him, she would be safe. Hell, he'd brought the threat to her in the first place, and now that he had helped get it out of the way, he would happily go knowing that she was safe.

"Devlin hang on! Please! Stay with me!!" Her face swam before him like it was being viewed over water.

This was the end, the final episode of his life. He had lived a life filled with deaths and bullets and drugs; it was only fair he went that way and his consolation was that Pamela would be fine without him. Another consolation was that he would close his eyes with her face hitched to his memory forever. There would be no forgetting her, no, this love was eternal.

"I -" he struggled to say. "I love - you - too."

"Devlin please, I beg of you. Please don't go!"

He could hear the tears in her voice, the agony behind her every intake of breath, the misery behind her every word. He managed to smile at her, albeit a weak one. He had to tell her one way or the other that he would be fine. "Be ha - p -py - please."

"No, no!"

He usually heard that on the verge of death, one sees their dead loved ones before transitioning, and frankly, the only dead loved ones that he had was Dorothea, Robert, and his grandmother. He had thought it was a boring cliché but now that he was experiencing it, he saw that it was so. They wore white and had beautiful smiles on their faces. They stood, just beyond him, beckoning him, happy that they would finally be reunited. The next thing he saw was blackness, and just as it enveloped him, he heard Pamela scream,

"Nooooooooo!!!!"

~

They say something is soothing about the view of the sea.

It could be the way the tides come and go or the way the waves lawlessly erode the sands as it wriggles their way gently towards the shore, or perhaps the rhythmic pulse it emanates which is unmatched by any other part of nature.

Whatever characteristic of the sea it was, Pamela King did not feel soothed.

She was standing in her room, looking through the window, lost in thought. Could she be lost in thought? Whatever she wills herself to be lost in was torture, and so was reality, so there was no escape. She felt chocked like she was a prisoner in both her thoughts and her reality. Her eyes filled and she let the tears fall freely down her cheeks but she didn't sob. She took in a sharp intake of breath and released it, but it did nothing to abate the heaviness she felt inside.

She jumped slightly in alarm when a hand gently touched her shoulders. She relaxed. She hadn't heard Florence come in. Florence hugged her from behind then stroked her hair and kissed her forehead, while tears coursed down her cheeks as well.

"It's time."

Those two words softly spoken had a bomb-blast impact on her. Time. She scoffed gently. Time was not her friend. If it had been, time would have had mercy on her and would have gone more slowly. If time was her friend, time would have given her more time with her husband. Probably a hundred years more.

But here she was, clad in black, about to go bury him.

She leaned her head back and looked up at her housekeeper, and wiping the tears from her cheeks, she picked up her sun shades and put them on. Her miserable reality was too bright and she needed something to dampen it. "Let's go."

She smiled sadly at Florence and let her take her hand and lead her down the stairs and to the car. When they arrived at the cemetery, she smiled sadly at the people gathered there. It was a mass burial day. Three of Devlin's men had been killed in the invasion two weeks ago, Bob included, and a lot had been injured, Cody included. Cody was still recovering but came in a wheelchair to pay his last respects to his brother and his boss. The way he was clad in bandages and casts made her want to weep but she had to be strong for them.

Today was also the day she was going to bury her mom so her mom's friends were at the venue. They hugged and kissed her and assured her that they would be there for her. How could she tell them that she didn't need anyone other than her husband?

They started first with Bob and the other men. Pamela would have felt pity for Cody and the loved ones of the deceased if she wasn't a sight to be pitied herself. Helen came to the funeral with a baby bump, and even though pregnancy makes a woman's hormones run riot, she was in check with her emotions more than Pamela had expected.

After the brave and loyal men had been buried, they all moved to the King's sepulcher and Pamela requested that her mom be buried first, wanting her husband to be last. She told the priest that it wouldn't be fair to keep her mom's friends and family waiting which was why she wanted them to go first, but the truth was she wanted to stall. She didn't want to put him six feet under just yet, she still wanted to feel him, even if he was gone. She still needed him to somehow help her get through her mother's burial, but who would help her get through his?

When it was time for Devlin to be buried, she was asked if she wanted to see his face for the last time but she declined, as she had done weeks ago when his body had been ready to be seen at the morgue. The thought of seeing him in a freezer, so still and calm and lifeless was not something she wanted to experience. She would rather have memories of him alive than dead.

Pamela told herself that she would be strong. She told herself that the slow hymn of 'Jerusalem on high' that was being sung by the choir would not get to her, however harmonious and dulcet it was. She told herself that she would not break down and cry as she heard people talk about how loving, kind, and strange on the outside but sweet on the inside Devlin had been. She told herself that her lips would not tremble and her hands would not give in to tremors as she poured sand on the casket.

But she just couldn't help it. Especially when the remainder of Devlin boys from all over the country had worn dark suits and sun shades and had arranged themselves in a creative way that formed a heart shape. Watching them as they fired shots to honor him, it was all she could do to control her tears. She buried her face in her hands and wept bitterly. The stored tears continued to flow and the sobs wracked her body, robbing it of the ability to speak – barely allowing even a breath to be drawn.

It was heart-rending to say goodbye to her friend, her lover, her laughter pill, her gossip buddy, her mafia, but she had to. And she promised herself one thing, that she would always love him and remember him, every single hour of the hour, in every breath she took, in every step, she would remember him:

Always and forever.

~

Remember Me

To the living, I am gone,

To the sorrowful, I will never return,

To the angry, I was cheated,

But to the happy, I am at peace,

And to the faithful, I have never left.

~

I cannot speak, but I can listen.

I cannot be seen, but I can be heard.

So as you stand upon a shore gazing at a beautiful sea,

As you look upon a flower and admire its simplicity,

Remember me.

~

Remember me in your heart:

Your thoughts, and your memories,

Of the times we loved,

The times we cried,

The times we fought,

The times we laughed.

For if you always think of me, I will never have gone.

- Margaret Mead.

~

I'm crying! Tears are rolling down my face for a lot of reasons.

We've finally come to the end of TMKM and it's been a hell of a ride. Thank you so much once again for reading this chapter, please do vote and comment how you feel; I have a feeling we all have a lot to say, like offer our condolences to Pamela and our frustrations too.

But there's something I'll like to assure you, it isn't goodbyes yet cause I'm not good at goodbyes.

I'll be posting an author's note very soon, please watch out for it, thank you!