mk robinson wants to be a star. (hitjackpot) wrote in doorslogs, @ 2012-06-01 20:50:00 |
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Entry tags: | catwoman, mary jane watson |
WHO MK & Wren.
WHAT Whiskey and alters and boy troubles, oh my!
WHEN After the group plot.
WHERE The new penthouse at Turnberry Place.
WARNING Wangst, the usual.
Compared to most other people, MJ Watson had gotten off the hook relatively unscathed. As far as MK could tell, her younger counterpart had only a couple bumps in a fairly quiet time in Las Vegas. Just a little boring, but she was glad that she and Mary Jane had no bruises or trauma to speak of. She knew something was bothering the younger redhead, but MJ refused to let her know what, and so MK decided to leave that for Peter to figure out whenever she and Simon let the two of them play boyfriend and girlfriend. After all, she wasn’t being particularly open either, what with the psychos going after her and kidnapping a child and the stint in jail. No, the little superhero boyfriend could crack that shell. She didn’t feel much like being a hypocrite this week. MK immediately headed home after getting her body back, her existence back. Because that had been what happened, right? None of them really existed for a week. It was completely unnerving that something like that could actually happen, and happen in mass. She didn’t turn on the news, but the cab ride from Passages to her new penthouse with Wren told her more than she needed. Smoldering wreckage, destroyed hotels, screaming people. Seattle had gotten this bad. In a vastly different way, yeah, with super prisons and the like, but it still brought back memories that stung like a vicious bite. Vegas was its own special kind of hell, it was turning out, and MK didn’t see how things could turn out much differently than they had all those years ago in that place so many miles away. She arrived home before Wren and took the opportunity to check in on a couple of people to make sure they weren’t one of the victims of the crazy shit that happened at Passages the night before. Exhausted and swimming in the past, she helped herself to a bottle of Jameson while waiting for the blond to arrive back from her search for Gus. MK should have probably met Wren to help, but she had faith that Gus wasn’t too far off. That Wren would find him quickly. So, she poured herself a healthy helping of whiskey and snuggled on a couch in the living room and tried to suppress thoughts of Seattle and of the insanity and of a boy in a mask. Wren had barely noticed the state of the city on her cab ride to Luke’s aparrment, but that wasn’t the case on the ride back. Like MK, it made her think too much of Seattle, the memories bittersweet. Then, at least, she’d thought everything might work out in the end. In those days, a dark corner and a boy, hugs and kisses, had made it all seem like it might be okay if they could just make it to the next sunrise. Now, it was complicated, so complicated, and she wasn’t sure about anything anymore. She was so lost in her thoughts that she missed the cab driver’s stop in front of Turnberry Place, and she gave him an apologetic smile as she paid his fare. She was surprised Silver hadn’t checked in, she realized as she bid the driver farewell, but she knew she would have heard if he was unwell. Felicia would have been in contact, surely, and she just added him to the list of things she wasn’t sure about these days. That list was growing with frightening speed. The private elevator ride to the penthouse was blissfully quiet, the cables barely even making a sound, and Wren walked through the door of the cool, calm manse that was home with a grateful sigh. Petti came to greet her, and she scooped him up and kissed his fur. “Did the maids feed you?” she asked the cranky ball of fluff, assuming they had, and she carried him into the master bedroom with her, bypassing the living room at first in favor of a clean set of clothes and a shower. She could hear MK in the distance, the clink of a bottle, a glass, ice, and she realized her hypocrisy count was about to go up for the day. She was pretty sure telling Luke not to kill people, while agreeing to help Roger kill someone else was pretty high on the hypocrisy scale. She was pretty sure telling MK she had a drinking problem, and then drinking with her counted too. She rubbed at the fading bruise on her temple and convinced herself not to care. Minutes later and her hair still damp, Wren walked into the living room and, after serving herself a glass of whiskey without anything fizzy to water it down, she flopped beside MK on the couch and looked over at the redhead. “It feels really strange to be in one piece,” she said, because they were normally a little accident prone, MK and her, and she took a sip of her drink after the understatement. “Gus was terrified, but he’ll be okay,” she said, because she knew MK would ask. “Selina had a really unfortunate run-in with the blonde from jail, Iris, and I think I might be becoming one of those people that dislikes people for other people. Now, you,” she encouraged, steering the conversation away from things like Luke and Brielle for the moment. MK bit her lip to suppress a snide comment about how quickly Wren grabbed a drink for comfort, too, and took a large gulp from her second glass of the day. The first drink numbed the worst of the burn, but she still closed her eyes for a moment as the amber liquid slid down her throat with a delightful sting. “Poor baby. I’m glad he’s okay,” she said, with a small smile, because despite being scared shitless by the child, she already knew she loved him, if only because he was Wren and Luke’s son. “We need to have a back-up plan. I don’t want him to have to keep going over this over and over again.” When they fluttered open again, she nodded. It did feel strange, and she sighed. “Think we got off the hook pretty much. MJ didn’t get into too much trouble, except nearly getting attacked by one of those blue guys, but whatever. She’s fine. I think. I dunno, we haven’t spoken much.” She sighed. “I thought we left things like this back in Seattle, but this is looking worse and worse every single fucking day.” Wren caught that lip bite, and she groaned. “Yes, I know. I’m being a hypocrite. Go ahead and tell me, just wait until I’m drunk?” she asked, and there was still concern in her eyes when she looked at her friend. She knew MK’s drinking problem was much worse than her own coping mechanism, but she’d said her piece, and she wasn’t going to do it again. “I’m going to find someone who isn’t like us for back-up care,” she said, which was the truth, whether Luke approved or not, and whether he wanted to take her money or not. “That’s a change,” Wren added when MK opened her eyes again. “Me actually getting information from Selina, and you not knowing much about how Mary Jane is doing. Are you worried? Do you think she’s involved in something dangerous?” It brought to mind her conversation with Roger, the one about Damian, and she groaned and tipped her glass back entirely, downing it in one long sip and burn. “I feel like we’re just waiting for something terrible to happen to the girls through the door, something that will leave us really hurt.” It was a new worry, but a near-constant one. “This is worse than Seattle, MK, and I think it was all easier to deal with when we were teenagers and everything could be made better with a really good makeout session.” MK ignored Wren’s request and downed the rest of the glass. She wasn’t in the mood for lectures, not today and not of that nature. If Wren wanted to be a hypocrite, so be it. “Good idea,” she said. “Gus needs to be safe. Someone you can really trust though.” She was worried for the little boy, and it was clear as day in her voice. Her conversation with Roger brought up a really excellent point -- that the second Alex figured out how to get to Gus the little boy would be in danger -- and had left her in a bit of a panic since. MK scoffed. “Yeah, isn’t it? I think she’s learning a little too much from me.” Frowning then, she reached forward to fill up both of their glasses, and then sipped some more. “I’m not gonna bother pushing if she doesn’t want me to know something, y’know? She and I haven’t really been really talkative since, y’know, all that Caesars stuff. Something probably happened, but then again, I haven’t really let her know about everything that happened either.” MJ, even then, was uncharacteristically quiet in the back of her mind. “Leave it to boy wonder to crack that.” Another sip and a noise of agreement. “A really good makeout session can still be a good distraction, let’s be honest.” But still, she sighed again, and nodded. “I wish we could keep them safe. Keep ourselves safe. Keep everyone safe. But, we can’t, and it fucking sucks.” “I don’t know who I can really trust, MK, not beyond-” Wren stopped, trying to think of a word to describe the few people she did trust. “Not beyond family. And now I sound like Roger,” she admitted ruefully, taking a very long sip of her drink and then refilling it from the bottle she’d set on the coffee table. “What aren’t you telling me?” she asked of the worry in MK’s voice. They knew each other too well not to know when the other was keeping secrets, and MK was keeping something. “I had a really bad chat with his current nanny, who quit, for the record. I want to like that woman, I do, but it just doesn’t work,” she confessed, because things with Iris always ended up in an ugly fight, for one reason or another. “At least she didn’t imply I’d killed Gus this time.” Wren didn’t like the thought of leaving MK’s possible safety in the hands of a teenage boy, which is how she viewed Spider-man. At least the Bat was something menacing, and she was pretty sure he wouldn’t let Selina get herself killed at this point. “Do we trust the boy wonder to crack things?” she asked, her uncertainty in the question. “I’m sure we could recruit another superhero. There seem to be a lot of them to go around, if the footage from last week is anything to go by. Superman? He hates Selina, but I’m sure he could be recruited. I would offer Roger’s little boy, but I don’t know much about him. All I get from Selina where he’s concerned are orders left on the phone to check on him and find out where he is.” The statement that makeout sessions were a good distraction made Wren smile. “I don’t know. I think life has finally gone past the point where makeout sessions make me forget everything else I need to worry about. I think that’s either a sign that things need to calm down, or that I need to be drunker. Or maybe we just hole up and become recluses, like our next door neighbor.” “That’s okay. I kinda like it when he calls us family, as annoying as it is,” MK said with a smile. They kind of were like a family, at least a jumbled up one, but those tended to be the best kinds, in her opinion. Much better than her blood family, at the very least. Speaking of Roger... “He brought up a really good point.” Drumming the side of her glass, she fell quiet for a moment before continuing. “What about Alex? When he figures out how to get to Gus....” The redhead huffed, pretty much at a loss of what to do. How could they really keep Gus safe when everyone around him were tied to that stupid fucking hotel? She rolled her eyes at the mention of Iris. “Are you fucking kidding me? I’m sorry, but she’s not his mother.” Unlike Wren, she wasn’t as worried about leaving Mary Jane’s safety in Spider-Man’s hands. MK smiled at Wren. “I think he might have better luck than some random guy would. Even as impressive as Superman was. Let’s see how the kids do, hmm? I mean, my Spider was able to get a lot out of me. Boy wonder’s got a good head on his shoulders from what I can tell.” She smiled again at the thought. As much as she hated it at the time, he did have a good knack at figuring her out, and thinking back she loved that. “Recluses sound good. We can just sit back and be lushes and let life pass us by,” she replied with a laugh turning to tuck her legs underneath her and face her friend more. “I think you just need a really, really good makeout session. Or something like that. Maybe more booze.” Her glass raised in salute before she downed the rest. “Maybe a new escape. Something to distract yourself. Distract ourselves.” When MK said that Roger had brought up a good point, Wren immediately knew she wasn’t going to like it, whatever it was. Once MK voiced the concern, even truncated as it was, Wren had to pour herself another drink, downing her current one as she sat forward. She hadn’t thought of that. Oh, God, she hadn’t thought of that. She dragged a hand through her hair, and she tried to think past the image forming in her mind, but she was only half paying attention when she answered MK. “She sent me a note saying she wasn’t going to take care of Gus anymore, and giving me permission to talk to Luke about potential nannies. Which she followed up by throwing money at me for legal counsel, and telling me she’d paid Luke for Gus’ future childcare.” Anyone who had known Wren when she was young would know she didn’t react well to charity, and she was already touchy about the subject of Gus altogether. “Luke doesn’t want me seeing him,” she admitted, and then she sat back and turned her attention entirely to her friend. That was easier than everything else. Wren smiled when MK mentioned her boy, and she wondered how different things would be if he was still around. She almost stated the obvious, that it was painful how much MK missed him, but she held it back at the last minute. Instead, she just reached out a hand and brushed strands of red hair away from her best friend’s face. “How are things with Simon?” A pause. “And Adam?” And she hated Adam, oh did she hate him after Luke’s confession about how Adam had used him, but she couldn’t come clean about that, not with MK, not without telling her about Luke. Regardless of Luke’s fears about what she would do with that information, Wren wasn’t going to tell anyone. She hadn’t even told Jack, and Jack was the only person she could think of that might be able to help. “We could always bake the recluse a cake, some vodka. Some cake vodka?” she asked, tucking another strand of hair behind MK’s ear. Okay, so maybe she was matchmaking. As for that good makeout session? She groaned. “Luke and I are off again, thanks to Brielle. Kind of. I don’t know what we are, MK. I love him, but I don’t trust him. But he cried, and that breaks my heart, and I can’t be in a room with him without touching him.” She leaned her head back against the couch and groaned, well on her way to tipsy. “What if he’s with Brielle right now? How do I stop worrying about that?” A new escape, now that sounded like a plan. A dangerous plan, but a plan. “What kind of escape?” MK couldn’t help but roll her eyes again. “What a bitch,” she said of Iris. Any sympathy she had for the other woman flew out the window just then. MK knew how much Wren hated hand-outs, especially from people who disapproved of her. She was the same way, after all. “I’m sure she cares for Gus and that Gus likes her, but come the fuck on. Seriously. Did Luke have anything to say about it?” She made a noise, a tiny, agitated thing. MK hated the idea that Wren had to be kept from her son, especially after all that her best friend went through with the boy. “I wish it wasn’t even any issue. He give you a reason for it? I think he’s worried about messing up that order, not because you’re bad for Gus.” The brush of Wren’s fingers brought a smile then, even as her question caused an exasperated sigh to slip from the redhead. “They’re good. Simon wasn’t really hurt or anything during all that insanity, so that’s good. I...told him about that message Alexander sent me, and I just hope he doesn’t do anything stupid about it. I really, really hope so because I can’t--I can’t have him hurt.” Definitely on her way to being buzzed, the pleasant tingle already shivering up and down her body, she frowned before biting her lip. Neither of them could get hurt. “Adam is...Adam. I’m worried about him. About what Hank Pym is gonna do to him.” And, of course, the fact that he got someone murdered. It made her stomach lurch to think about it still, but she couldn’t talk to Wren about it. MK knew Wren didn’t like Adam, and she didn’t want to fuel the fire. No, she would deal with all of that herself. Maybe just her being around would help him stay away from that. “Have you actually met this recluse yet? We can always just get one of those big cakes and pop out of it. Pretty sure that’ll make anyone happy.” MK reached for another refill, filling the amber liquid a little too high and sloshing a bit onto her hand and wrist. She was buzzed enough to not care about decorum and licked the excess alcohol from her skin. “Don’t think about it, Wren. You’re going to drive yourself nuts.” She wished she could wave a magic wand and make everything okay for her best friend, but it seemed impossible. “I don’t know what I’d do, kitten, but just...don’t worry about it now, okay? There are other things to focus on. Give it time because he really does love you, and I know you love him. But it’s gonna take time.” MK smirked as she lifted the glass to her lips again. “Oh, I dunno. I’m sure we can think of something. Can we get into some fun trouble? I haven’t gotten into fun trouble for a few weeks.” “I didn’t talk to him about it,” Wren said of Iris. “I avoid that. He likes her, she’s from his door, and he trusts her. And she cares about Gus, which matters more than anything else, right?” she asked. “Telling him about our problems is only going to make him pick sides and, these days, I’m not sure he’d pick mine.” It was a hard thing to say, but true. She was pretty sure he’d defend Iris, and she just didn’t want to hear it, not after everything Selina had said in her voicemail and Iris’ own message from earlier that day. “She was cruel to Selina, too, Iris. Selina says even the Bat agreed. I don’t know, MK,” she admitted with a sigh. “Maybe I’m just being childish and hurt.” The admission, along with the slur that was rapidly developing, was an indication of just how drunk she was getting. Wren had no idea that MK knew about Adam having people killed. If she knew, she would have panicked about MK knowing that Luke was the one who actually did the killing. She was blissfully unaware, but there was something in her friend’s tone when she spoke about him, and she addressed that before the easier subject of Simon. “Does he have anyone else? Anyone who can help him if Pym does something?” She paused, frowning. “What do you think Pym will do?” she asked, before taking another sip and focusing on Simon. “I told Roger about Alexander too, and Selina told Luke. Maybe enough people know that it’ll be safe. I’m worried though- Selina’s in Arkham, and Crane is running that place now.” She was too drunk to remember if she’d told MK who Alexander was through the door, and she was well on her way to being drunker. “I haven’t met the recluse,” Wren admitted, though she smiled at her friend’s suggestion and the messy slosh of amber liquid. “And I wish I could stop thinking about it,” she admitted. Even drunk, she wasn’t the type to forget herself, forget the people she cared for and what she wanted. If anything, booze made the ache and longing more acute, and she tugged lightly on a strand of red hair as she sighed. “Does fun trouble involve getting drunk and dancing somewhere with strobing lights?” she asked. “Or does it involve prank phone calls and skinny dipping in the communal pool?” “No, it’s a little different, I think. This is your family, Wren. Your son, and she’s trying to tell you what to do about him. I don’t like it. Whatever, I don’t think my opinion means much compared to hers, I guess, but I still don’t like how pushy she’s being about it all.” MK sounded incredibly frustrated, and doubled with the amount of whiskey pulsing through her, she was getting fairly pissed off. “Selina isn’t bad either, and I assume if the Bat isn’t a fan, then there’s something there. I don’t know either. Maybe it’ll be good for her to have some space, at least for a little while.” She bit down on her lip harder, wishing she could tell Wren about Adam without the other woman getting livid or losing her mind. “Pym’s a jackass. I spoke with him on the phone before all that shit last week, and...I really don’t like him. He’s angry about a lot of stuff, and I think that’s going to rub off on Adam. And he’s sure that I’ll mess up one day really bad, and that’ll be when he takes advantage, when he’ll try to break him.” Her free hand reached up to pinch the bridge of her nose, and she fell silent for a few beats. “I don’t know what to do. About any of it, really. About Pym or about Alexander.” Her hand fell down, and she quirked an eyebrow. “Crane? Is that...oh, fuck that makes sense. You’ve got no idea what he’s doing to her, right?” Polishing off the rest of her glass, she looked at Wren, all heavy-lidded and lopsided grin. “We should introduce ourselves. Be good neighbors, y’know. And fun trouble can involve whatever you want, kitten. You know I’m inclined to both.” One of the things Wren loved most about MK was how quickly her friend always was to go to bat for her, to get upset on her behalf. She did the same in return, and she’d missed that tremendously in the years they’d been apart, the knowledge that someone out there in the world would always understand. “I wouldn’t say the Bat isn’t a fan. I think he likes Iris. I just think Iris reacted poorly to Selina, and it made for a really messy situation. And I don’t think Selina is likely to forgive her. She doesn’t seem the forgiving type to me.” The conversation about Adam made Wren frown, and she closed her eyes and drunkenly went out on a limb. “I know he believes in lethal methods, MK,” she said, no mention of Luke and only an old kind of knowledge that she could have required during her own days in the vigilante scene. It wasn’t a stretch; he’d always been overzealous. She didn’t scream or lecture, but she figured it was a good place to take the conversation from, one that excluded all mentions of Luke. “A lot of the masks back there were. It caused some trouble.” she said, remembering Jack’s problems and how often he butted heads with Thomas over them. It was a sobering topic of conversation, and she chased it with a drink. “Tell me everything Pym said,” she added, because they were in this together, even if she didn’t think Adam was anywhere near good enough for her best friend. The question about Crane earned a shake of her head. “No. I have no idea what he’s doing to her, and that’s probably good. I have a feeling the Bat will get her out of there, even if she’s too proud to ask for help.” “Okay, we’ll knock,” Wren suggested, and she quirked a brow. “Or maybe you should. As for fun, I’m out on bail and in the middle of a custody battle. I think our fun would have to be disguised or quiet.” She smiled. “We could find somewhere to play dress up, invite the boys.” And God, that felt like the old days. It felt so much like the old days that it ached. “Except for the part where both of our relationships are a wreck.” MK shrugged, a bit of uncharacteristic ruthlessness bleeding through with her drunkenness. But she couldn’t stand people going after Wren. She had her knives and her vigilante skills and her stubbornness, but MK always felt protective of her best friend. Like, while the blonde tried to save the world, she made sure Wren was safe. “Maybe Selina’s got the right idea. She’s a little cutthroat, but I like her. We’re kinda alike, I think.” Sighing, MK grabbed the bottle and decided to forgo the glass in favor of the straight, easy burn. A swig of the bottle to numb the pain as usual. Just the thought of what Adam had done made her sick to her stomach and her head ache mercilessly. “It doesn’t mean he is now,” she said, not wanting to share his secret still. That he still was a fan of lethal methods. That he had a man killed and he wanted Alexander killed, too. “I don’t know a lot of what went on in Seattle with you guys, I know, but it’s been years. Things change, people change.” And she lied, lied, lied. Lied because she didn’t want Wren to stress herself over it. Because she didn’t want to risk losing Adam. Another long drink from the bottle, and she found it hard to remember exactly what Pym said to her that first night after being released. “Uh,” she started, trying to recall the most important details. “When I was brought in, I kind of called Simon before Adam. Which was a fuck up, on my part, when Adam and I argued just a couple days before about our relationship. But, whatever. Adam hid in the door, and Pym said it was my fault, which yeah, I guess it kinda was. And he told me Adam needs me, and that every time I hurt him, hurt Adam, Pym gets stronger. I don’t know how much of it to believe, but it makes me worried. Really worried.” She answered Wren’s eyebrow with a quirked one of her own. “Are you trying to plan something, kitten? That looks like your mischievous look.” The suggestion stung more than it should have, bringing back memories of stupid teenage girls with less cares than they even realized. While she tried to hide the ache in her chest the mere idea caused, the expression was clear as day in her eyes. “I can do quiet and sneaky. Disguises are fun. The boys aren’t necessary, since they’ll be all disapproving and not very fun.” It sounded like fact, the way she said it, and maybe it was what she believed. Wren was pretty sure that Selina was more than a little cutthroat but, admittedly, she was starting to appreciate having the thief in her corner, even if she couldn’t hear or sense her. She could definitely see MK sympathizing with her, and she leaned over and kissed her friend on the cheek, the affectionate gesture reminiscent of all those nights spent whispering at each other on a couch in Seattle. “You’re a really wonderful friend. I don’t say it enough,” she said, sitting back again, her glass of whiskey sloshing onto her thigh. Wren knew Adam hadn’t changed, and she just shook her head slowly when MK said people changed. “Adam hasn’t changed, MK. I only know one person who was part of the lethal scene that has changed, and I keep expecting him to go right back to it. I don’t think it’s easy to leave that behind. Circumventing a non-functional justice system is too easy, and it feels like the right thing sometimes, ending a life.” She shrugged a tiny bit, before finishing her drink. “I’ve killed two people. Remember? And I always pushed the envelope in a way the other masks didn’t. I know what it’s like.” She looked at her friend a moment longer, staying quiet for a few seconds. “Why did you call Simon first?” was the question that she finally asked. The rest, the part about Pym getting stronger, that worried her in the same way that Alexander and Crane worried her, and she realized this was so much worse than she expected it to be. She could talk to Luke about it, but she selfishly didn’t want Luke going anywhere near Adam. “I’m never mischievous,” Wren assured her friend, thankful for the subject change. “Okay. Sneaky. Disguises. Let me see what I can find. There’s a lot of parties around here that cater to that kind of thing. No boys,” she promised. She would warn Luke, just in case something went wrong, but a night out with MK sounded like Heaven. “The weekend? I have to let Selina try to get out of that prison first. She begged on the voicemail.” The kiss on the cheek reminded MK of two teenage girls, years before, sitting on a beat up couch in a shitty apartment worried about things that seemed so much simpler and sillier now. Things like secret identities and worrying whether two certain boys actually felt the same way they did. MK would give anything to just have a few hours of those times before everything went to absolute shit, but she was here now, in hot Las Vegas instead of dreary Seattle. Worried about whether or not the man she was in a relationship with might have another person killed or that the world might end or that they could all end up dead at the hand of someone who should be stuck in a book. She smiled at Wren still, even as all the thoughts brimmed over and clouded her eyes momentarily. It wasn’t as though she liked to dwell -- she tried to bury it every day -- but times like these, sitting on the couch with Wren, made it hard to forget. Or want to forget, either. “Only because I love you,” MK teased of being a good friend, draining a little more from the bottle. “I think Selina might think I’m a bad friend sometimes, but I try.” She frowned though as Wren refuted her claim that people changed and shot Wren a look. “I know. He told me he thinks Alexander should be killed, that getting rid of him would be the only way.” Oops, she hadn’t meant to say that, and she visibly balked and stammered for a split second while she tried to cover her mistake. How much had she had to drink? Shit. “But, he told me he won’t. He won’t because he knows I won’t like it.” And, in that admission, there was a desperate tone of belief. Like she had to believe it for her own sanity, and frankly, she kind of did. “You’re always a little mischievous. You’ve got something cooking up there too often.” MK smiled softly and reached forward to tap her finger against her best friend’s nose. “No boys,” she repeated, even if she’d probably tell Simon or Adam or both that she was out to cause trouble. “Sounds excellent. Yeah, get Selina out, poor kitty. MJ and Peter need to spend some time together, too. And I’ve got to like, get work done, I guess. Weekend,” she agreed. “That’s when the real party starts here anyway.” Wren wasn’t surprised to hear about Adam’s opinion of Alexander. She couldn’t even disagree with it, unfortunately, and she knew that the only reason Alexander had lived through Luke’s most recent visit was because Simon was present. Simon, who was too good to kill anyone, and she knew that’s what had stayed Luke’s hand. No, it wasn’t the fact that Adam thought Alexander should be killed that worried her. It was MK’s reason for why she thought Adam wouldn’t go through with it. She took the redhead’s hands in her own, setting aside bottles and glasses for the moment. “MK, knowing you won’t like it isn’t going to be enough to stop someone who’s been killing for years.” She sounded sad when she said it, like it was something she was all too familiar with. “I want him dead too, Alexander,” she admitted, voice going hard, and maybe she’d had way too much to drink, “but I’m not the same as Adam.” She touched a hand to MK’s cheek. “I wish you didn’t have to go through this.” And maybe it was telling, that she didn’t immediately condemn Adam in the way she should have, but she wasn’t sure MK could handle it. It was hard, shifting gears into mischievousness, but the tap to Wren’s nose did the trick, and she smiled. “I’ll text you the details. In the meantime,” she continued, nudging MK’s arm. “Sleep. The potentially handsome recluse next door can wait.” Wren was right, thinking that MK couldn’t handle it, couldn’t handle the disapproval . The mere thought sent her into a tizzy, and it had been something she avoided thinking about since her conversation with Adam a few weeks before. She leaned into her friend’s hand, the gentle touch soothing the stress bubbling underneath, even as she shook her head slightly. “No,” she said helplessly, but she didn’t want to argue, not then. She had to hang onto the belief that Adam wouldn’t do it, and Wren might be able to really to destroy it if given the chance. Even with as stubborn as MK could possibly be. She rolled her eyes, but gave into Wren’s request. To placate the girl and to also avoid the truth Wren surely wanted to lay on her. She didn’t even reach for another swig of the Jameson as she leaned over to press a kiss to Wren’s forehead before pushing herself off the couch. “Everything has got to work out. And if not, whatever, let’s at least have a little fun, right?” |