-1-

Haley is surprised by the number of people who want to roleplay  RLA officers so badly they pay hundreds of dollars a night for it.

His first Control client had been an actual ex-RLA lieutenant. He'd been exonerated of war crimes by whistle blowing on his superiors. He came in wearing his uniform, the name ripped off to hide his identity.

The first things he’d said to Haley was “mine was a brunette.”

He ordered Haley to undress, stared at his tattoos for a while and then just held him in bed. They spent the next 22 hours watching old pro-RLA propaganda documentaries on a continuous loop. The man occasionally fondled him but mostly he cried into his hair. 

A few clients just wanted the feeling of having complete power over another person but most wanted more. They wanted to take out their personal rage at the RLA out on his body. And for a  higher price he let them.

The few women who came through were less cruel. They seemed to have more shame for what they were doing. All of the women wanted him blinded  before they even arrived and kept him that way to hide their identities. They rarely spoke, pushing, and pulling him where they wanted him to be.

Some days his time in Control made him sore and other days it made him physically sick, but he couldn’t complain about the money. He’d made more in 5 months than he had in a year working overtime on the assembly line at the MBC factory.

More than he’d seen in his entire life.

Haley quickly comes to understand the look he’d been given by the dark-haired man when Jean first brought him through Virtue. Jean Dory  moved on to new projects quickly and losing Jean’s undivided attention to the next new escort stirred up feelings of abandonment and jealousy Haley didn’t like to dwell on.

At first Jean came to visit him daily; keeping him company, helping him take his daily antivirals, making sure he always knew when a client was coming and what they expected. Then it was Charlotte who would come and tell him when he had a client coming and after a few weeks it was just a message on his Syndicate with a date and time. 

Either way someone always told him when to expect someone. 

Which is why Haley's adrenaline spikes when he wakes to a stranger sitting on the edge of his bed.

He quietly reaches under the bed for the small panic buttons hidden in the room. His fingertips just barely brush the button  when the figure on the bed shifts positions. He catches the glint of metal through the figure's gray pants.

“Luce ?” Haley rubs the last bit of sleep out of his eyes. “Good morning.”

Luce shifts to face him, his handsome face expressionless as his eyes go from the digitized black to their normal bright sea blue color.

“Good Morning ? You know it’s like 3 PM, right ?” Luce responds tersely.

 “I took a sleeping pill last night,” Haley explains, burying his eyes in his palms

“Nightmares?”

“No…My client from last night wanted me asleep the whole time so it’s a strong pill—”

Haley catches himself explaining himself to the person who was technically an intruder.

“Wait---What are you  doing here ”

Luce shrugs. “I was around the corner roughing up a crooked cop for Rayne—the asshole called backup while I was trying to make his eye bruises match and the neighborhood was flooded with cars. I figured I’d hide down here in case they come looking in the club.”

Haley nods. Luce often hid out in Virtue when he was on the run from some recent job. But he mostly stayed upstairs in the Virtue social club.

“But—how did you get in here ?”

No one could get into Control unless they were invited.

“Did you seriously just ask me that?,” Luce scoffs.

“…You hacked the security system ?”

“You don’t have to hack easily distracted old men,” Luce says, holding up Jean’s key card.

When Luce turns back to the screen in his lap, Haley wraps a blanket around his body and  quickly slides out the bed, padding to the attached bathroom.

He stands under steaming water fall of  hot water, meticulously rinsing the evidence of last night out of his body. Wrapping a towel around his lower body, he pulls open the bathroom door to step back into the bedroom and is taken a back by Luce is standing in the bathroom door frame--like he’d been waiting against the door.  They hold an uncomfortable stare and it seems to take Luce a full minute to advert his eyes from the tattoos that Haley usually covered in his presence.

“Oh…shit sorry. I was just going to tell you I was going I—um,” Luce stammers. He looks embarrassed and off balance and for some reasons Haley finds it endearing to see an  emotion on Luce besides generalized bloodthirst.

“It’s fine…um, I don’t really  cover them when I’m here.”

Modesty didn’t have a place at Control, Haley had gotten used to that but Luce keeps his eyes trained on the opposite wall as Haley pulls on a clean tank top, with the Virtue logo scrawled across in gold, and long pants.

“You can look,” Haley says after a moment, running a comb through his wet hair.

Luce shifts his gaze to him. He tries to act normal but his eyes flick over the the mess of vulgarities etched into Haley's skin. Luce had glimpsed the tattoos on his arms and chest but not the ones across his midriff and hips and down his lower back.

“You know I wasn’t trying to look…You don't have to show me--”

“It’s fine…I showed you mine. Show me yours,” Haley interrupts and Luce frowns, confused at his attempt to diffuse the tension.

“What ? You want to see my tattoos ?,” Luce asks, amused.

“N-no, your leg,” Haley explains quickly. “It’s only fair.  I should finally get to see the part of you I’ve never seen.”

 “Fine.” Luce kicks off one dress show and lifts his metal leg to the bed. He presses a few buttons until the joints decompress and he easily pulls it off. The skin just above where his knee should be is a glossy pink before ending in  a smooth, metal coating.

Detached, the intention of the sleek and silver cybernetic leg was even more clear; it was a weapon.

“Okay, show’s over.” Luce re-attaches the leg, his eye going digital as the cybernetics re-calibrated themselves.

Despite himself Haley smiles.

Isla and Gram aside, Luce Grace was the closest thing Haley had to a friend.

When he’d gotten himself to  the cartel’s  doorstep Luce has been the one to greet him (albeit with  a gun to the temple) and when Luce found out that Haley wanted a contract kill on Kenneth Maxwell he’d personally lobbied Rayne Washington and his assistant Minnow Dory on Haley’s behalf.

 At first Haley didn’t know why Luce was helping him so much. But he quickly learned Luce wanted to be the one to take the hit. He was the only hitman in the cartel that hadn’t had a high profile hit and he saw Maxwell as his chance.

Even when Haley had been   years  from being able to afford the cost of the hit, Luce had come to his small apartment once a week to go over new details about Maxwell and to discuss how the hit should be done, where it could be done and how Haley wanted it done.

Public or Private ?

Did he want to be there ?

Suffering or quick death ?

Violent or clean ?

Drowning or hanging ?

Do you want someone to find his body ?

Where should I hide his body ?

Do you want a trophy ?

A finger ? An eye ?

It had made Haley uncomfortable to focus on those details. After a few weeks of talking only about the hit they’d found other things to talk about.

Luce had garnered a reputation for being a  cold hearted cyborg but that persona never made sense to Haley.

Luce Grace lived a charmed life.

Sure, he’d had a hellish cybernetic surgery as a child but his mother loved him unconditionally, had given him the best education possible and with no real financial obligations he spent the  40% commission he made off each job on custom cars; ridiculously expensive, fast, dangerous concept cars. Rumor had it he had an underground car warehouse on the edge of the Sprawl.

Although Haley was starting to think the fact of Rayne’s impending death and his little brother inevitably becoming his boss was getting to Luce.

“I have to  eat,” Haley tells Luce, touching his Syndicate. He always ate as soon as  he could—he couldn’t shake the feeling he might be forced to go without again.

There was no staff in Control and any food ordered was brought down by Charlotte or an overly eager man Haley had deduced was Charlotte’s assistant.

“Great, get me a cheeseburger and a Jack and soda.” Luce says.

“That’ll be $25.00.”

“Jean makes you pay for you own food ?”

Haley nods, scrolling through the menu on his Syndicate.

 “Fine, I’ll pay for both of us,” Luce says. “But I can't eat in this fucking room.”

“Why ?,” Haley asks, placing the order and loading a new game on his Syndicate. Luce wasn’t good for long conversation and he needed something to distract him if there was a lull.

Luce gestures, half-amused,  to the shackles bolted to the floor, walls and headboard.

“It’s cleaned after--"

“I don’t care. I’ll be too busy thinking about what those sick fucks do in here.”

“Everything the happens in here is recorded. For $700 dollars I can send it to you,” Haley says just to get a rise out of Luce.

“I’ll pass,” Luce grimaces. “ Let’s eat outside.”

“No. People will think you paid to be with me and--”

“Who gives a fuck what they think ?,” Luce asks. “They’re the sad fucks paying someone to tell them their fucked up fantasies are okay.”

Haley wanted to argue more, explain that he didn’t feel safe in Control outside of his own room. But a part of him was afraid Luce was going to leave if he was too argumentative and something inside him didn’t want that.

He walks to the door and opens it, leading the way to Control’s “social club” although there was less socializing and more public debauchery and binge drinking. There was always a small crowd in the bar and he’d quickly learned that Jean always cleared the bar when he brought new people around for a tour so not to scare anyone off.

There is only one empty table and Haley speed walks towards it, not looking back to see if Luce is following. Haley  keeps his head down as they sit, he can feel the eyes following him, like they always did when he made an appearance.

“LUCE GRACE ? WHAT ARE YOU DOING DOWN HERE ?”

Haley turns to see a frowning Charlotte Dory coming down the steps with two plastic takeout containers in her hand. She wore a different version of her puritan like outfit everyday, today her pale pink skirt swishes madly behind her as she stomps down the stairs.

“Mr. Dory dropped this,” Luce said, giving her a shit eating grin and holding up the stolen key card which she snatches immediately.

“Luce !,” she shrieks as quietly as possible. “You can just come down here whenever you want. Control members expect the fullest amount of discretion and privacy--”

“Relax,” Luce says and the furrow in Charlotte’s brow increases. “I won’t let it slip that the deputy chief of police is in that corner over there on his knees wearing a bridle and bit in his mouth while that nice lady fucks him with his Federation issued bayonet… Man, I just really hope when he leaves here tonight you encourage him to get his boss to call off the manhunt they have out for me or I may have to leak the recording I’m taking right now.”

Luce taps the side of his face, where the control plate for the camera in his right eye is located.

“I’m telling Jean about this,” she says and then she puts a hand on Haley’s shoulder, her expression softening. “Are you alright, sweetie ?”

“I’m fine,” he says and she nods her head before going back up the stairs.

“This place really is a fucking gold mine for blackmail, isn’t it ?,” Luce asks, sliding one of the plastic takeout containers across the table to Haley.

Haley nods. He’d never been with anyone notable but he’d seen a few recognizable faces with others. Just yesterday he’d watched a married ambassador from Europe disappear into a backroom with the McQuillan Sisters, the stunning newly minted 18-year-old triplets who would have fit in upstairs at Virtue if not for their desire to experience everything together.

“How much money have you saved up ?,” Luce asks.

He wonders what Luce would do if he told him about the ambassador from Europe. Did Luce think killing for money was more noble than what went on in Control ? They’d never really talked about it, but Luce didn’t seem interested in physical or emotional relationships. Haley had once peaked at Virtue’s records  and saw that Luce had been to Virtue twice as a client , but he hadn’t looked at the recordings.

“Alex ?” Luce snaps his fingers. “Hey.Lex.”

Lex. He’d started calling him that after he heard Isla absently call him that in a video message. “Sorry…I have a little under $100,000--”

“It’s been six months.”

“I know....but I had to give some money to my sister to help pay for my grandmother’s care,” he explains. “We wanted to put her in a nicer place and give her a private room…and we’re getting a mausoleum space for my mom and Harlow…I don’t want to pay for one for Harlow but Gram really wants us to do it.”

He’d also had to pay to have minor plastic surgery at Jean’s insistence. Small things like having his teeth re-done and some of his scars covered up but he didn’t want to admit that to Luce.

Luce just nods quietly. He always went quiet when Haley talked about his family. He didn’t know if it was because half of Haley’s immediate family was dead or if Luce just didn’t care. He hoped it was the former.

“I want to do this hit, that’s never going to change.” Haley says. “But I still have to  help my family first.”

“Family first,” Luce scoffs under his breath and then sighs. “Yeah, I get that.”

“Are Rias and Twyla okay ?,” Haley asks

Luce suddenly takes extreme care chewing his food as he thinks it over. He picks up an errant blueberry from Haley’s plate.

“Twyla’s perfect…as usual,” he says. “Rias…I don’t know. He’s been spending whole weeks  with Rayne and Minnow so he’s  probably trying to find a corner to cry in right  about now.”

 “Are they that hard on him ?”

“I don’t know. I think it’s too much for anyone; the company, the cartel, watching his dad die. But this is his birthright and he needs to present a tougher front even if it’s bullshit.” Luce takes a drink and stares at the grain of the table. “A lot of assholes don’t know he’s my little brother and I overhear shit all the time…guards and dealers making jokes about taking him out once Rayne is dead. I mean if Rayne were to drop dead tomorrow, the other cartels could use that moment to--”

“YOU DISGUSTING SON OF A BITCH!,” a woman screams.

At first Haley thinks it’s Charlotte yelling at Luce again, but this voice is guttural and angry. Haley is about to exchange a lets-get-out-of-here look with Luce when a sharp pain explodes across the side of his face. Tears  prick in his eyes.   A  dark liquid, too thin to be blood, runs in small rivulets down Haley’s cheek and when he opens his mouth to scream he can taste a dry red wine dripping across his lips.

 A middle aged woman comes out of nowhere and shoves him to the ground, slapping him and curling her fingertips to drag her polished nails across his cheeks.

“YOU SICK SON OF A BITCH, YOU DISGUSTING SON OF BITCH! WHAT DO YOU KNOW ABOUT THE RLA ? WHAT THE HELL DO YOU KNOW ? THIS IS WRONG.”

The  fragments from the wine glass she'd hurled press into his bare lower back as she forces him against the dirty floor and he wants to fight back but the woman reminded him so much of his own mother and there was a strict no hurting the clients policy at Control.  Unlike the escorts in Virtue, they escorts in Control had been instructed to take any abuse from clients and report later.

The woman lets out a shocked scream as she is dragged backwards by the back of her dress. Luce presses his gun to her tightly curled brown hair.

“Hands off her, Luce Grace!” a new voice shouts, this one male and direct.

A warning shot fires and the lights go out for a beat, pitching the bar in total blackness. When the lights come back up  most of the workers and their clients scatter as Virtue security detail  storms down the steps. The security detail are all identical, men and women well over 6 feet and some so  muscled they couldn’t lay their hands to their side. The security detail mostly guarded the doors of Virtue at night and hardly came to Control unless someone snuck down or a client was in danger.

The bartender, one of a series of concealed leatherclad women who took rotating shifts, totters on her heels to the crying woman who had attacked Haley. The bartender whispers an apology as she guides the woman away, the security also apologizes to the woman as they approach Luce.

“Where the fuck is Jean ? That bitch threw a fucking wine glass at him! She attacked him and you  assholes apologize to her!” Luce shouts.

“Nobody lays a hand on Mr. Dory’s customers. You are currently intruding, Luce.” the security guard bellows.

“God, I can’t believe how well he has you trained. How do I make you sit ?,” Luce snaps as he extends his arm to help Haley off the ground.

“You need to leave now,” the security guards snaps back. “You can walk out or we can walk you.”

“I’m okay, Luce.” Haley says, standing on his own.

“That bitch--”

“It's fine,” Haley looks at the security guard who was still staring at them. Waiting for Luce to leave. “You’re not even supposed to be down here. You should just go…It’s okay. I've been through worse.”

There were always the occasional person who would get triggered by his tattoos, although they were mostly the young, RLA veterans. Most of them just yelled or at least gave him an indication before they decided to lay hands on him.  For every one person who hit him there were three more who schedule appointments later.

“It’s not okay,” Luce argues. “She had no right to take her anger out on you. How fucking dumb do you have to be not to know the difference between what’s real and fake.”

Haley shakes his head and forces himself to smile. Luce was always trying to save him—probably because he really wanted the Maxwell hit.

“My tattoos aren't  fake,” Haley reminds him, crossing his arms. “I don’t want to get you in trouble. You should go.”

Luce rolls his eyes and without another word follows the security team back up the steps.

----

-2-

“Oh, I miss doing this,” Jean Dory sights to himself, running his fingers through Haley’s hair. “Minnow used to have this wonderful hair until she snipped it all off like a madwoman.”

Haley nodded even though he thought the short, sideways bob, streaked with purple that Minnow Dory wore fit her perfectly. It made her look severe but also sweet depending on how it was styled.

The silence  in the room filled with the muted sounds from the party going on downstairs in the Virtue social club. Jean continues running his hands through Haley’s hair, the light touch sending tiny pings from Haley’s scalp down to his toes.

Haley dares to look at himself in the mirror for the first time in the two hours since he’d been summoned to Jean Dory’s suite in Virtue. He thought Jean called him up here because was going to give him advice about tonight, but Jean simply said he wanted to fix Haley’s hair.

He’d kneeled over the bathtub’s showerhead while  Jean  washed his hair and done a number of other things  to it Haley couldn’t keep track of. Now he was on the thick, slightly shimmery carpet in Jean’s bedroom, sitting between Jean’s bent knees

Looking at his reflection Haley is relieved to see his hair is still it’s natural color, although if there was anyone who could have made a different color look good it would be Jean Dory. Haley catches Jean’s eye in the mirror and Jean smiles, but then Jean’s eyes flit to the reflection of his glorious California King bed—where Ariadne sat propped up on a pillow watching them silently.

Ariadne Hart was Jean Dory’s newest obsession, his fourth obsession in the year that Haley had been at Control. She and Jean had still been in bed together when Haley had arrived at the suite door.

She’d been a classically trained theatre actress who became an adult film star in  the Eastern State. She’d  gotten clearance to settle in the Republic where she’d had surgery done to make her already perfect face mimic the golden ratio; she was well educated, beautiful with an athletic body and had a sexual curiosity that even Jean admired.

She’d come to Virtue only a month ago and Jean dropped everything to work with her. Once she made her debut later this month she’d  be Virtue’s first escort born in the Eastern State.

She was in the bed now, she’d been lying in the bed--in a sheer nude-colored lingerie set-- staring at them in silence.  Very few escorts were ever invited into Jean Dory’s  private suite, although at one point Haley had seen Charlotte leave the room early in the morning.

The fact that he’d even been invited to spend time with Jean made Haley even more nervous about tonight.

“You should wear your hair like this all the time, love.” Jean says pulling Haley’s hair back into a ponytail at the center of his head.

“I can’t,” Haley says, rubbing his hand over the roman numerals on his exposed neck. He’d tried to wear it back once while in public, thinking the roman numeral tattoos would be innocuous but  someone in Mojave had recognized DeCartes’ Mjollner style and tried to pick a fight with him. He had to run.

Jean sighs and walks to his large, messy vanity and  returns with a plastic tube with a sponge on the end. He rubs the end of the tube on Haley’s neck and like an eraser the inked numbers disappear. He sprays the spot with something that smells like alcohol and blows on his neck.

 “Ta-da,” Jean sings

“Now if only you could do my whole body,” Haley sighs as Jean secures his ponytail back with a clear band.

“I think I’d need a bigger bottle,” Jean says and kisses his forehead before standing up and stretching.

“You look wonderful, love, now get dressed,” Jean continues. “I need to make a quick pop in at the party downstairs before we head out. Do you want to walk through the party with us ? ”

The party downstairs was Virtue’s monthly open house, the one night Virtue opened the door to the entire city for an all night party of top tier decadence. While most citizens claimed to come just for the free gourmet food and people watching, Jean’s client lists always went up by 20 percent after each party.

 “I’ll just meet you outside,” Haley says and Jean nods.

“Alright then,” Jean says and then calls lovingly to the bed. “Ariadne, let’s go show them how to make an entrance, sweetheart.”

The girl in the bed stands slowly, slips into a pair of glittering heels and pulls a loose fitting mini dress over her lingere set and then running her fingers through her hair. It’s the minimal effort anyone could make, but she manages to  looks like she’s had a professional team working on her all day. Jean smiles, sauntering over to her,  he kisses her mouth hungrily, pinning her against the wall. She giggles as he waltzes with her across the suite and then out the door.

Haley quickly dresses in a starched long sleeve shirt, pants and jacket and as he boards Jean’s private elevator--that went directly to the street outside--he can hear the sounds of applause as Jean and Ariadne enter the party.

Night had fallen, making  the heat outside  bearable and he sits on the ground, against Virtue’s building and loads a game. This one was called Tulip Fever and involved picking the correct amount of each tulip in an allotted time. He liked the ones with bright images and simple tasks, they distracted his brain from dark places. The running timer on the game is close to 45 minutes when he feels a light kick on his hip.

He looks up to see Jean Dory grinning down at him.

“Sorry, I took so long. I got a little carried away,” Jean says and gestures towards a waiting luxury black car.

Haley can smell strong wine coming of Jean and he expects Jean to configure in the autopilot on the vehicle but instead he takes the wheel and begins to navigate. Haley had never  seen anyone drive, well besides Maxwell, but he wasn’t supposed to think about that. He’d really only been in a car a handful of times, and he was struck by how in control Jean looked.

“No autopilot ?,” Haley asks.

“Do you really think I’d stand for that bullshit ?,” Jean laughs and for the thousandth time Haley wonders how Jean Dory navigates the world.

“Do you know what tonight is about ?” Haley asks finally.

“I honestly don’t know,” Jean says, but Haley doubts it.

 Haley had received the dinner invite from Minnow Dory on behalf of Rayne Washington two days ago. They’d never invited him to dinner and he didn’t know if this was good or bad. He’d worked as much as he could over the last year and only had a few  thousands of dollars left to earn to pay for his hit. He’d been monitoring Maxwell and nothing had changed.

-3-

To Haley’s surprise they travel at a respectable speed across the desert to Mojave and to The Hydra, Rayne’s residence. The spindle like apartment complex glowed against the night and Jean offers a simple nod to the armed guards standing at the gates of the complex.

Four more armed guards stand at the entrance to The Hydra lobby, Jean tugs one of them gently by the collar and whispers into his ear. The man laughs nervously and Jean touches the guard’s chest before nodding to the others and proceeding into the building.

“I’m surprised Rayne doesn’t have the penthouse,” Haley says, once they’ve entered the elevator and Jean hits the button for the 12th floor. 

“Soft bastard gave his ex-wife Ivy one penthouse and  the other to Sara when Lachlan died. So Rias could be closer he says.”

“Is Rayne Washington  nice ?,” Haley asks, feeling stupid for how he frames the question.

“Apparently only if he’s been inside of you,” Jean laughs as they exit the elevator and head towards the end of the 12th floor hallway.

Jean taps the small circular LED light on the door and the doors separate  to reveal Jean Dory’s younger sister, Minnow. She breaks into a smile and hugs her brother.

“You came ! I’m surprised you’re not working the open house,” she says, linking her arm in her brother's as they walk inside the apartment.

“I have an in with the boss,” he replies.

“So, then Harry was like…,” Minnow begins and Jean grins.

Haley follows behind as the start in on a conversation  like they’d only dropped off from talking a second ago.

Rayne Washington’s apartment is a wide open space of floor to ceiling windows creating the illusion of the starry sky everywhere. Overtop the marble fireplace are black and white portraits of who Haley recognizes as Rias and Rayne and he assumes the other men are Rayne’s brother, father and grandfather.

Alan Gray is the only one seated in the living room, he’s sitting with his arm crossed, watching a video of what looks like a surgeon slicing a human stomach open.

“Alan , come on ! And ew, turn that off ! ” Minnow calls behind her,  then immediately goes back to her conversation with Jean.

Alan falls in step behind Haley and mumbles something brief to him.

“Don’t you dare ask him how he’s doing, in fact my advice is don’t talk to him.” Alan says under his breath.

Before he can ask more they are in a formal dining room, an elegant long  table set with porcelain platters filled with steaming food. Soft music plays from the speakers and seated at the head of the table is Rayne Washington, looking stoic in a chrome and black ergonomic wheelchair. Sitting to Rayne’s right is Zacharias, looking equally stoic and sitting across from Zacharias is his mother, the notorious assassin and hacker Sara Banner.

Beside Sara is Twyla Banner,  the youngest of her children who is chatting happily with her mother, not noticing her mother’s eye constantly fleeting to Zacharias who is staring blankly as a woman in a black and white uniform stirs together a bright green margarita for Rayne.

Next to Twyla is Luce, leaning back in his chair, his balance wavers for a moment when his eyes meet  Haley's but he only  offers him silent two fingered wave. He hadn’t seen Luce in months, he stopped coming by Control and Haley rarely came out this far but for some reason the gesture makes him feel slightly more at ease at this strange dinner party he’d been invited to for reasons he still didn’t understand.

The meal itself made up of the most delicious food Haley had ever eaten but the company is odd, he somehow manages to get seated between  Alan and Minnow, neither of whom try to talk to him. Rayne never eats, he simply sips his margarita with a long thin straw, his son occasionally wiping his mouth for him.

Rayne laughs and occasionally adds to the conversation but he sounds far away, like a man talking during a wake. No one discusses cartel business, just stories from the Mojave Blade Company or about who’s birthdays are coming up and what happened last year.

Luce sometimes nods at something his little sister says to him or leans down to tell her something, but mostly, he just eats and sits with is arms folded through most of it.

It’s not until Haley is running his spoon through the remnants of the peach ice cream served for dessert that he senses as change in the room.

“It’s late. Time for bed,” Sara says standing and tugging on Twyla’s orange strands. “Thanks for dinner tonight, Rayne.”

“Yes, thank you,” Twyla adds.

“Anytime,” Rayne says nodding, stiffly.

Twyla pops out of her chair and offers a group goodbye before following after her mother.

Alan Gray stands too and walks out of the room without a word, only pausing to ruffle Minnow’s hair—she playfully slaps his hand away and a small smile stirs in the corner of his mouth. Haley can hear the sound of Alan walking upstairs to the top floor of the loft.

Haley expects all the attention to go to him, but it goes to Luce instead.

“Your bedtime too,” Minnow says to him.

“If this is about the Maxwell hit, I should know of any changes. It’s my hit. I’m staying,” Luce says and then looks over at Rayne.

“I see no harm,” Rayne Washington says. “You can make sure Zacharias fills your mother in properly on what we discuss.”

Then Rayne’s eyes focus on Haley and he suddenly wants to disappear into the floor.

“Is it true you wear a New Revolution saltire ?,” Rayne asks him.

Haley simply nods and then catches himself.

“Yes, sir.”

“You believe in God ?,” Rayne asks him.

He wanted to say yes, but 7 years at Ft. Pride had hardened his heart. He’d spent the first few years trapped there praying for an escape. It never came and after a while he stopped.

“I…Some days,” Haley says.

“You’re one of the few people in this Republic who still do. Who believe the universe will hold us all accountable.” Rayne says. “It’s why I trust you. Why I think we’d work well together. You may not like what I’m about to say but you need to trust me.”

Haley didn’t know how to respond so he stole a glance at Luce, wondering what Rayne was asking. Did the man want to sleep with him ? Would he ask that so publicly ?

Rayne lifts his hand up to his Syndicate, his hand is shaky, like he’s putting extra effort just to lift it. When he finally makes contact a projection of the Justice Bureau’s organizational structure displays.

“I want you to take it from here, son,” Rayne says turning to Zacharias. “I think it’s appropriate.”

Zacharias suddenly sits up from where he’d been leaning on his fist and looks at Haley. He tries to do the math,  Zacharias would be in his mid-teens now and still looked out of place in his lanky body.  Haley wasn’t sure if anyone had ever told him  how Haley’s family took care of him for the first years of his life, he doubted it. The life hadn’t been very good and they were likely ashamed he’d been made to stay with such a poor, broken family.

“Um,” Zacharias says, looking across the table at Minnow. “ There’s been a new law--”

“---Reform, an entirely new bright and shiny crime prevention reform,” Minnow interrupts.

“Yes,” Rias nods and looks at his father who also nods. “And we need more influence in the Police Commissioner’s Office.”

“I’m sorry,” Haley says. “I don’t understand--”

“I do. I think I know how this is going to end !” Jean Dory says loudly standing up.

 He’d been getting louder with every drink that night.

“You want Haley to make a blackmail recording with someone in the administration. Frankly, Rayne I didn’t open Virtue so you could shame people--”

“God, you’re so drunk,” Minnow laughs shaking her head as Jean flops back into his chair. “And we want something more than a blackmail recording. We want Haley to form a special relationship with the Police Commissioner’s Special Assistant.”

“Who, thanks to nepotism, is also the Police Commissioner’s son,” Rayne adds. “He’s a college drop out and his father created this job just for him. His parents divorced and his mother died shortly leaving him with a shitload of money in a trust. He’s young, angry,  has money to spend, is possibly grieving and a little asshole as far as I can tell. He’ll be easy to influence.”

Rayne zooms into the image of the Police Commissioner’s organizational chart and Haley almost laughs when he sees the name and face of the Police Commissioner. He couldn’t get away from this family no matter what he did.

Commissioner Carlyle Winthrop.

Cassia Winthrop’s father and also secretly Harlow’s. The two people who had made his life hell.

“The Winthrops worked with the RLA,” Haley says. “How did he become police commissioner?”

“He’s fucking rich…don’t you remember the trials ?,” Minnow asks.

“I was locked in a prison camp,” Haley reminded her.

“You poor baby,” Jean slurs. He gets up from his chair again and begins to stumble towards Haley.

“Right, well no one could prove he participated in any actual war crimes,” Minnow continues, ignoring her brother. “He somehow got himself this job, which means he’s extra vulnerable if anyone finds out his son  has thing for boys with RLA tattoos.”

“Does he actually have a thing for that ?,” Haley asks

“One of his many fucked up sexual hangups,” Minnow says.  “If you want the full rundown you can ask Sara, she’s the one that had the unfortunate job of hacking into his porn history.”

For some reason Haley’s eyes shift momentarily to Zacharias, his eyes were heavy lidded and he looked uncomfortable with this whole conversation.

“Now,” Rayne continues. “This is a long term job. You will get a bonus for any useful information you get from Commissioner’s Winthrop’s son and anything you can get him to do to help us,”

“I can try—will try,” Haley says, feeling nervous when Rayne’s gaze lands on him.

 “Good. Now for the bad news,” Rayne says. “It’s come to my understanding that you’re close to being able to pay for the hit on Maxwell.”

Haley nods.

 “As you know he’s a federation judge and there are some cases pending that make the balance of power very delicate. We’ve also heard he may be appointed to Attorney--”

“OH, BULLSHIT!,” Luce says slamming his fist on the table. Jean flinches and lets out an annoyed moan.

“Luce--,” Rayne and Minnow admonish him at the same time.

“No,” Luce says. “You want more work out of him, but you won’t do the one thing he asks--,”

“Luce Grace, you are out of line,” Rayne says in a threatening tone. “You will either learn some respect or get the fuck out of this house.”

“Fuck you--”

Rayne swipes his arm across the table, wine glasses and dessert dishes fall and smash on to the floor.

Haley notices Rias roll his eyes before putting his head in his arms on the now naked table.

“LUCE GRACE, WHEN WILL YOU FUCKING GROW U--”

“--YOU LIE TO PEOPLE ALL THE GOD DAMN TIME.  YOU DON’T HAVE TO LIE TO HIM--,”

“DID ANYONE ASK YOUR OPINION ? YOU BETTER LEARN TO FALL IN LINE--”

“OR WHAT ? YOU WANT TO TRY AND RIP MY LEG OFF OLD MAN ? FOR OLD TIME SAKE--”

“I WILL GLADLY TAKE WHATS MINE. YOUR CYBERNETICS ARE MINE. EVERYTHING YOU OWN IS MINE DON’T YOU--”

“TRY IT. I’D LIKE TO SEE YOU, GO AHEAD STAND UP. STAND UP, RAYNE."

“GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY HOME!” Rayne roars and Luce just shakes his head, smirking.

The two continue to  dissolve into an incoherent shouting match that is only stopped by the ugly crunch of an unconscious Jean Dory falling face first on to the dining room floor. The room goes silent for a beat before Rias and Minnow rush over to him.

“ALAN !,” Minnow screams and Alan comes bounding down the steps at her call. He shoves Rias out of the way and puts two fingers on Jean’s neck. He runs a finger under Jean’s now bloody nose and presses a mirror up against his nostrils.

“He's still breathing...he probably took something at the Open House tonight that didn’t play well with alcohol and put his system into shock.” Alan says. “He’s fine… just really, really, shitfaced. Lucky bastard.”

“Oh, Jean,” Minnow cooes through clenched teeth, running and hand through her brother’s hair. “I think he should stay here with us tonight, let’s put him in the guest room--”

“We’re staying here tonight?,” Alan asks, almost petulant.

“I have a 6AM meeting at MBC, there’s no point in going all the way back to the Sprawl just to come back here.” she says patting Jean’s cheek. “I’ll call Charlotte and tell her he’ll be late tomorrow.”

Rayne snaps at two guards who pick Jean up unceremoniously and walk him upstairs, Minnow following after.

Rayne turns to Haley, his expression exhausted.

“I keep my promises no matter what anyone says,” Rayne tells him. “I’ll send you information about Winthrop’s son through the secure network. I think we’re all done with tonight. I’ve had enough for today.”

Zacharias stands from where he’d been shoved away by Alan a few moments ago and stifly hugs his father before going to the door,  without a word to anyone else

“I trust you can see yourself out,” Rayne says to Haley, navigating himself to the wheel chair lift on the stairwell, his guards following close behind. Haley wondered if they stayed with him outside his door at night.

Haley nods and quickly heads for the door, Luce following silently behind him. Once the  apartment doors have shut behind them, Haley stares at the elevators.

“You just hit the down button,” Luce tells him, his voice slightly sarcastic.

“I—Jean was my—nevermind,” Haley says hitting the down button.

“Shit, he drove his car didn’t he ? Crazy bastard, we told him not to take the autopilot out--”

“I’ll take the train--”

“It’s after midnight, the last train just left--,”

“I can wait--”

“5 hours ? You can spend the night with me upstairs,” Luce shrugs.

“Um--”

 “I mean we have a couch—obviously. It’s no big deal. You can leave in the morning.”

“Oh…Thank you,” he nods.

The elevators chime with their arrival  and Haley tries not act as mesmerized by the expansive view as the clear glass elevator ascended to the Banner penthouse.

The penthouse was darkened when Luce unlocks it with his handprint but Haley can tell it’s nicer than any place he’d ever dreamed of living. It had the same high windowed starkness of Rayne’s apartment but there was more evidence of life. Printed pictures on the surfaces, misplaced coffee mugs in the kitchen, and tablets strewn on the table.

Haley wordlessly follows Luce up a set of spiraling iron stairs and into his bedroom, which was as sparse and plain as Haley would have predicted but what was there looked expensive.

 “I think your bed is bigger than Jean’s,” Haley observes, staring at the California King sitting on top of a leather headboard.

“Gross, don’t say shit like that,” Luce says, but his tone light.

Luce goes to a tall set of stark white dressers and digs to the bottom before pulling out a t-shirt.

“I don’t know how you sleep but you can wear that if you want,” Luce says throwing the shirt at him.

Haley holds it out, studying the faded Arkham Academy school logo. His eyes land on the tag, where Luce’s initials were written in permanent marker. The shirt would still be too big for him, but that wasn’t what made him uneasy.

“What ?,” Luce asks. “What’s wrong ?”

“I--It’s just short sleeve--"

Luce looked annoyed but quickly hid it.

 “I run too hot for long sleeves. I could get something out of Ri’s room, I mean or  maybe even Twyla’s.”

“Never mind. This is fine,” Haley says, not wanting to be a bad guest.

Before Luce can protest Haley  pulls off his layers and slips on the shirt and turns to the door, folding his arms out of habit.

“Does it matter which couch--”

“You can sleep in here if you want,” Luce mumbles

“Oh--”

“I mean like you said…. it’s a big bed. We’re adults.”

Haley hadn’t been looking forward to sleeping alone downstairs in the massive, strange apartment and he liked the idea of seeing Luce sleeping, he’d never seen Luce look anything but impenetrable.

When Luce slides into the bed with him,  it doesn’t feel intimate but distant. Luce lays his body on the very edge of the bed, as far from Haley as physically possible.  It feels like those few months  he’d been made to share a bed with Harlow, when Gram has burned Harlow’s bed after catching him with a girl.

Haley turns slightly to see the soft outline of Luce’s body in the glow of his  tablet, a series of short dark lines cross the taught muscles in his angular bare back.  He knew Luce kept track of his kills but he’d never imagined there would be so many.

Something comes over him, bad impulses from his time in Control,  and he crosses the distance, tracing his finger across the marks. Every muscle in Luce’s body immediately tightens at the first touch. His tablet smacks into the floor.

“Sorry--,” Haley starts, snatching his hand back.

“What are you apologizing for ?,” Luce asks, turning to lie flat on his back.

“I—those are all the people  you’ve killed ?,”

Luce throws an arm lazily over his eyes and sighs.

“No,” Luce says.

“Really ?”

“Yeah,” he says, still not looking at Haley. “Ma has made sure that I’m the least successful Shy Cartel hitman. I’ve only had three good hits in all my time. Rayne uses me as a glorified thug, so I just started counting any job where I drew blood. Don’t get me wrong, I can do the job, I’m still a good shot. Now, go to sleep.”

It was probably the most words he’d probably ever said to Haley that weren’t about the Maxwell hit.

“One last thing-- Do you think I should do what Rayne is asking ?,” Haley asks. “Help him blackmail Winthrop’s son ?”

Luce doesn’t answer and within minutes Haley can hear him softly snoring.

 

***

-4-

Haley could never shake the early mornings from the RLA prison camps and wakes a few hours before the sunrise, which showered Luce’s entire bedroom in bright morning light.

The smell of coffee forces him downstairs to have an awkward breakfast with his mother and Twyla—neither of whom Luce had bothered to tell that he’d spent the night.

When Twyla leaves for school Sara switches to all business and shows him the browsing history on the Police Commissioner’s son. She was live streaming everything he did on his Syndicate and that very minute he was watching a video from Control of a woman who found pleasure from being cut.

“What the hell, Ma ?,” Luce glimpsing the screen as he jogged down the steps, dressed and twirling a gun between his fingers before holstering it.

“We’re talking about the job,” she says curtly and Luce rolls his eyes.

“We should go,” Luce says to Haley. “Minnow said Jean is still puking up whatever he did to himself last night. I’ll drive you back to the club.”

Haley nods.

He watches Luce exchange a single worded goodbye to Sara and when Sara kisses him briefly on the cheek like it was second nature Haley feels a horrible jealousy seize him.

They walk in silence to a small storefront on the edge of an abandoned street.  Luce enters a complicated code and  the store’s door opens for him, he breezes past the rows of  dusty convenient store snacks and into an elevator tucked in a corner. The elevator goes down farther than seems possible and when they’ve reached the basement floor the air is suddenly different—it’s cooler and smells like fuel and fresh plastic.

They step into what looks like a crowded underground parking lot that Haley knows must be Luce’s car collection. The cars ranged in color and style but each one was artful, elegantly designed and expensive looking, all displaying the CYB0RG license plate

“Am I going to get to drive one of Luce Grace’s cars ?,” Haley asks, cutting the silence.

Luce turns to him, his glare intense.

“Do you want to ?”

“No--I was just—I don’t even know how to drive--”

“I can teach you,” Luce says and then shrugs. “Living this life you never know when you’ll have to be a get away driver.”

Haley smiles and nods.

“I’d like that,” he says. But he knows it’d just be so he can spend more time with the only person he could call a friend.

Luce chooses an older silver car with a  curved body that drove so close to the ground it was almost like the car was sliding across the desert as they sped towards the Sprawl.

Watching Luce drive was nothing like watching Jean drive. Luce lazily navigated the car, his fingertips barely on the wheel as he made slight adjustments, keeping the car balanced and on course, even as it drove itself. He effortlessly maneuvers through the tight crowded city streets of the inner Sprawl and to the back alley entrance of Control.

 They were back almost too quickly.

“Look, I know it’s fucked up but it’s a  good thing,” Luce says as he puts the car in park.

“What ?,”

“This Winthrop thing. Rayne trusts you with something. Hell, even Ma trusts you. That’s good, you’ll be able to use it for your advantage. Look how far Rayne’s favor got a fucking idiot like Alan Gray. Rayne’s a bitter, old, walking corpse but he’s connected. You do what he wants and you could get anything you wanted.”

Haley didn’t know if he was sensing some envy coming from Luce or just an observation.

“I don't need an in with the cartel. I only want one thing from Rayne Washington.” Haley reminds him.

“I know,” Luce says. “And no matter what I’ll make sure you get it.”

Luce taps his finger on the dashboard and Haley’s door quietly swivels upward, cool morning air brushing against his bare neck.

“Thank you for—thank you,” Haley says and he feels a strange compulsion to kiss Luce on the cheek or hug him goodbye.

But he didn't know how to cross that divide between them, they both had low tolerance for  physical affection.

He meets Luce's eyes for a second, and Luce only nods as he exits the car.