Isabella sat on a wooden chair with no cushion, but it was a massive step up from no seat just a day ago.  Her left arm draped over the chair back she tilted her head to the side and listened to the two women in front of her as each told their own version of what happened in the yard less than an hour ago.  In her right hand, she held a green-glass bottle of Coca-Cola, still cold despite the humidity, sweat running down its curves the same way it ran down Isabella’s.

Just behind her and to her left was Alvita.  Just behind her and to her right was Raeni - who she called Patches.  Behind both of the women in front of her, who were bickering more like hens than women, was British whose name turned out to simply be Mary.

Mary’s arm was wrapped, healing up nicely from what the nurse said during this morning’s checkup.  Alvita’s health was a bit dicier.  The diet of rice and sugar were taking their toll on the diabetic woman and there was a very real chance that one day she’d fall down and never wake back up.  For as tough as she was, her own blood might damn well be the death of her… not a bullet or well-placed shiv.

Isabella could hear the door to the hallway open and close.  It was past meal time, so whoever was coming was coming to collect someone.  She could have put this to an end, but she was done bending to these guards, especially after two girls disappeared last night and still weren’t back yet.  

Isabella held up her hand and both women were silent instantly as if she’d covered their mouths.  “I’ve heard enough.”

She listened to the feet coming down the hallway, aggressive long strides, a lone person.  

“You.”  She nodded to one woman.  “I think you’re both telling the truth and that makes the solution here, pretty fucking hard.  In the old country, Dons’ kept problems like this under control by interceding directly and because I care about the future of the women in this cell, and because you recognize the wisdom in trusting me, I’m going to do that.”

“You’re going to give her half of your meals every single day.”  She said to the thief who was now scowling and ready to fight.  The second woman, ‘the victim’ in this matter smiled smugly. 

Isabella continued to speak to the thief, “And when you will decide that you’ve repaid her enough for what you stole - this all ends.” 

Before the thief could speak up and insist that she’d paid enough already to a woman who was lying about exactly how much she’d stolen; Isabella raised her voice slightly and forestalled the stupidity of the bitter thief.  

“I’m assigning Patches here to make sure you get every bit of what is owed to you.”  She said to the victim, who was playing up her situation to be much more than it clearly was.  The woman was hoarding goods and put it on the unfortunate thief who had only stolen a small bit to survive this hell hole.  Isabella didn’t know which she thought was worse, but she suspected she hated the dishonorable liar more than the thief with genuine need.  

“But, because you’re making use of my right-hand woman in the oversight of this task… and there has to be a price for that - some way to way to compensate me for my time… and my time is incredibly valuable.”  

“But I don’t have any…”  The second woman began.

“Oh, I know you don’t have anything… you made very sure of that before coming before me today.  You mentioned it several times in your … argument?  Yes, let’s call it that.  Far be it from me to call into question your good word, so instead, we’re going to do this.”  She smiled at the second woman.

“After every meal, Alvita here will visit you.  Either you’ll produce payment for my Right Hand Woman’s time… or Alvita will take it from you in whatever way she sees fit on that particular day.  This will continue until such time as the thief who stole from you feels she’s adequately repaid the debt she owes you.”

Isabella looked back to the thief.  “If you steal from any woman in here again… there will be consequences.  Instead, the next time you have a need, you should seek the help of a friend… like myself.  I can make sure you don’t go hungry and we can avoid all this unpleasantness in the future.”

The thief came forward and hit her knees in front of Isabella taking her hand to kiss her fingers where a ring might have been.  It was the first time anyone had ever done that to her.  It was a gesture that was not understood by this woman outside of Cosa Nostra, but it was done with pure intent and so Isabella didn’t reject it.  She instead smiled and for a moment wondered what it might be like to be a Godfather - a thought that had never once occurred to her prior to this moment.

“Thank you for your forgiveness Don Luciano.”  

It was at this moment that Agent Billings came into view.  Isabella waved her hand dismissing the women and the circle around her broke up.  Alvita and Patches stepped in closer to her.  “Agent Billings… good of you to come to visit me.  No guards this time?”

“Even in here, you think you’re above everything, don’t you?”

“I’m a humble public servant.  You should try it… it’s a fulfilling life.”  She looked into his eyes, puffy and dark.  “You haven’t been sleeping well.  Is everything okay, Agent?  Maybe I can help you.”

“You can confess to killing Garrett and his men.”

“He beat you and locked you in a basement.  Why would you feel like you owe him this?”
“You’re worse than he ever was.”

“See, I don’t see it that way.  I conduct business.  I give people what they ask for.  I don’t hurt anyone unless they hurt people I love or protect.  Garrett,”  She said standing and walking over to the bars, “... was exactly the sort of man both of us should have wanted to destroy.  A man who should have served people and instead tortured them for his own career and personal interests.  He didn’t care about the law or he wouldn’t have cut a deal with my father… but you know all that.  So, why?”

He didn’t answer.  Just stared.  “The charges are being dropped.”  He muttered.

“My lawyers could have told me that.  Why are you here?”

“Call off your rabid wolf.”  

“My wolf?”  Instantly Isabella thought of William.  Had William come to in her hour of need?  He would do something like that - rush down here the second he heard she was in danger, come to aid Gavin both out of friendship and loyalty… but more, for her.  She smiled.

“Byrne.”  

Isabella felt a fool.  Of course, he meant Gavin.  It was stupid to think he’d know she called William her wolf.  Why would she even consider William coming here?  She’d broke his heart when they last saw each other.  By now he’d already begun to let things go… he wasn’t coming to Jamaica and with how well things were going with Gavin that was most definitely the best thing for everyone involved.

“I have no idea how to get ahold of him and even if I did… Byrne doesn’t work for me.  He owes me nothing.  He comes, goes, and does as he pleases Agent… he’s not a dog.  Like you said, he’s a wolf and wolves are not pets.”

Oliver stepped closer to the cell, “He’s killed men.”

“I warned you.”  She said darkly.  “You cornered him.  You stole from him.  You nearly finished what Garrett started… how did you think this was going to play out exactly?”

Isabella shook her head.  “Maybe once I’m out of here… we go home and things are forgotten.  Maybe.  But if I were you, I’d take that money Elias gave you and finally take his advice to get the hell out of the country… and never return because this isn’t about me, Agent.  You’ve made Gavin Byrne your enemy - and I have no more hold over him than you do.”  She smiled.  “You were a fool to think I did.”

“He loves you.”

Isabella laughed.  “He barely knows me.  We’ve had some good times, he’s incredible in the sack - quite possibly the best I’ve had, and I think he’ll keep me around for a while … but if you think some laughs are enough for a committed bachelor to put aside his life of excitement and settle down, then you haven’t paid much attention to who it is that’s hunting your men.  You should do your homework before deciding to make someone your enemy.  Gavin Byrne has never loved a woman before, and I can’t imagine any good reason why he’d start with an unfaithful whore like me.”

“He doesn’t see you as that he...”  The agent began, but Isabella cut him off.

“William Bowden.”  She said with a smile.

“Wha- who?”  The Agent shook his head.  

“The other man I’m sleeping with… the reason that Elias and I aren’t together.  Elias left me because there were two men.  Not one.  And… yes, Gavin is well aware.”  She leaned into the bars and whispered, “In fact, my lovers helped me kill Garrett - which clearly Stephen never told you about before he died.”

The Agent took a half-step away from the bars.

“That is why I’m not being charged… right?”  She said with a smile.  “Lack of… witnesses?  They can’t put you on the stand because you’d end up having to purger yourself in order to nail me to a wall.  Am I right?”

“How…”

“How what?”

“How did you get him!”  Billings roared.

Isabella smiled.  “I have no idea what you’re talking about, I merely guessed that Stephen was the weak link in my operation.  I was going to remove him as soon as I got home but I heard he’d gone missing.  I figured the guilt must have gotten to him and he ended it all while in your custody.  So tragic.  Another life lost due to the botched efforts of the FBN.”

“I’ll kill him.”  Billings snarled.

Of all he’d said, this threat hit closest to home.  Billings knew what physical weaknesses Gavin had, thanks to his time in a hospital, it was actually possible that if Gavin didn’t kill him at a distance that the Agent MIGHT hurt Gavin.

“While we’re making promises… let me make you one.”  She said grabbing hold of the bars, pressing her face near to it.  “If I get out of here, and you’re still alive, I will find you and I will finish what I started in that basement.  So, if you have a brain in that head of yours at all… I’d go now, while you have a running start.  If I never see you again, maybe you die old in bed surrounded by loved ones - but if you fucking TOUCH anything of mine, I will make sure you live a VERY long time before it all comes to a close between us.  Do you understand me?!?”

Billings turned and stormed back down the hall, Isabella calling after him.  “Goodbye Agent Billings!  I don’t believe we’ll ever see each other again.”  Her words were smug, but her mood wasn’t.  She didn’t know where Gavin was, or if he would realize that Billings was now a cornered animal too.  Would he underestimate the man in his rage over what had occurred?  Did he know she was mere days or hours from freedom? 
 

Gavin had removed the majority of FBN agents in a single night; Billings and Foster were now aware of that- and they were spooked. They almost always had their hands close to their guns, and they were always together- and surrounded by additional local police as well. Gavin could take them down... but if he killed Billings just to get killed by local police, he expected that Bella would not consider that a good trade. Besides, Gavin strongly preferred to live.

So he stalked his prey for an entire day, finding no openings before returning to bed. After the second day, he had Linval watch them after, but the defenses were impenetrable. Billings knew Gavin was dangerous from a distance, and so he avoided open spaces or angles vulnerable to a sniper. A dozen local police made a closer attempt impossible.

If Gavin was going to do this, he had to get creative. And the pressure was on, as Jordon had received word about a private plane being chartered out. Their case must be fucked... but Gavin expected Billings to leave a failsafe behind. If he was willing to go outside the law to arrest Bella, he may just try to have her killed when their case failed.

And so Gavin sat on a cliff near Jordon's camp, thinking. The man was one of the hardest targets Gavin could remember chasing. Not only personally skilled and experienced, but paranoid- and with an entire country trying to play nice and make sure he was protected.

Gavin looked down at the giant fall from the cliff and sighed. Then he smiled. A few hours later, he had the supplies he'd requested from Jordon- as well as a trainer. First, Gavin and the trainer jumped off the cliff together. Then Gavin did it himself three more times.

Close enough.

***

Billings was leaving- that much was clear. Whether it was his failed case or his fear of Gavin, Jordon's sources all confirmed that Billings and Foster had chartered a small private plane to depart that evening. Gavin was running out of time- and Billings was as perfectly defended as ever. There was only one place that Gavin knew Billings would be, and that was the plane. It was early morning, still shortly before dawn, when a shadow infiltrated the airport, easily dodging tired guards and mechanics despite the heavy equipment he carrying. As he made his way into the plane, Gavin tried several different hiding places before finding a perfect one. By stashing his special gear in a certain way, Gavin had a small space where he could curl up and sit entirely undetected. He'd be sore, on the other side, but if things went according to plan- he'd also have his only shot at Billings.

***

He snapped awake when the engine roared to life a few hours later- nearly cursing out loud about the aches he was feeling before remembering the situation. Gavin was barely able to move in his tiny hole, created by the stacked boxes and packs, but he was able to gingerly remove his gun from its shoulder holster. The seconds felt like minutes and the minutes felt like hours, but Gavin remained still as he heard multiple voices and the sound of luggage being placed near him. When the plane finally started to move, Gavin allowed himself his first smile in a long time.

Now, the waiting was fun. He imagined Billings and Foster, sitting feet away from him as they glanced out the window at an increasingly smaller Jamaica. They thought they were leaving this place- and the danger it posed them- behind. Nerves that must have been frayed could finally relax. He could hear it in their voices. Gavin forced himself to wait until the plane seemed to level off- then he slowly began moving. His knees cracked loud enough that he was sure the agents would hear him, but they didn't react until he'd stood up behind them and slid the special package on his back. 

He climbed over the seat silently, landing between them just for a moment before popping up and facing them. His M1911 was just out of their reach- and his eyes locked with Billings for a moment.

There was hatred there- on both sides. But there wasn't a need for words.

He killed Foster first, just to make Billings watch it. Then he shot Billings in the stomach a couple times. The chest. Finally, his head. The pilot was screaming, and Gavin ended his screams with two quick headshots. 

Before the plane could dive, Gavin wrenched open the door and jumped.

It was much, much different from the cliff.

For a moment, he was stunned into inaction- fortunately, his spread limbs slowed his descent. The wind rushed past his ears as he plummeted toward sapphire seas, and the fear and awe froze him until he heard Bella's voice and pulled the cord of the parachute on his back. The impact of the deployment caused him to grimace- his wounded chest flaring up again. 

Turning, he tried to face himself back toward Jamaica. He wanted to swim as little as possible... but it was still going to be a long, long journey. Hopefully one of Jordon's boats would find him quickly. If not, it would be a hell of a long swim.

Isabella felt like a cat caged, or a perhaps a Dragon caged as she waited for her lawyers to send for her.  They'd told her today would be the day and yet, she was still inside this box.  Worst of all was they canceled yard time today.  The buzz around the block was that men who worked in sugar cane and bananas were protesting.  Some had been dragged through the women's cell block headed towards where they kept the men.  As more and more men were dragged in, Isabella began to feel the room getting smaller.  

The day dragged on and with each passing hour, Isabella became increasingly convinced that the situation with the workers was going to prevent her timely departure from Jamaica.  All she wanted now was to get out of this alive, find Gavin and go home.  If she never saw Jamaica again it might be too soon.  This vacation had turned into more trouble than any single week she'd lived since launching The Ivory Tower.  This misadventure made every other experience had by all of the previous Tower Dons, except Lucky Lucy's trip to Sicily, look positively dull by comparison.

"Boss?"

Isabella turned away from the door to look at Patches.  "Yes?"

"I don't like the looks of things out there."  She nodded towards the small window that was so high up that Isabella couldn't even look out it without utilizing her chair.  "They will riot soon, I think."

Isabella sighed. 

"Good."  Alvita said with disdain.  "Bastards deserve what they get."

It didn't take a lot of thought to realize why they were outside of the prison.  Isabella suspected that the Jamaican government probably practiced the time honor tradition of 'debtors prison.'  For workers who couldn't continue to serve the crown and pay their debts, there would always be a cell and if their family wanted their family member back... an excess fee would be levied beyond what was originally owed.  Either the debtor died in prison, penniless, or their family filled the coffers of the government.

And people think the mafia is bad...

"What kind of numbers do they have?  What are their chances of success?" Isabella asked.  After all, a riot might allow for prisoners to escape - herself included.

"They're poor farmers, most do not have guns or weapons of any kind.  They do have numbers though, an advantage that can not be discounted."  Patches said with cautious optimism.

"Many will die." Alvita said bleakly.

"Do you think they'll get in?'

"Have done before." Alvita said. "I was here during the last one... don't dream that we'll just walk out when they breach the gate."

Patches shook her head, "She's right, last time they got into the prison there was more dead inside than out.  Old scores to be settled, guards left uncheck to do as they want... to say nothing of those trying to put down the riot."

Isabella nodded and said to herself.  "We're in danger."

"I'm afraid we are."  Patches agreed.

Isabella turned to Alvita, "You said you survived the last one?"

She nodded.

"You two get me out of this alive, and I'll bring your families to the United States and you'll work for me."  She offered her hand out to the women.  Alvita took it first.

"I got no one, but out of here sounds good."

Isabella looked to Patches and offered her hand to the woman.

Patches hesitated and then said, "I have a daughter.  You will see that she's educated?  That she has a real chance in your country?"

"If you get me out of this, I'll treat her like the daughter that I'll never be able to have, you have my word."

Patches shook Isabella's hand, "My life before yours, Don Luciano."

Bustamante and Grant were true to their word. The workers of Jamaica, frustrated by their status as second class subjects, were boiling over. In their rage and their desperate desire for fairness, they took to the streets- and the police were mobilized against them. Men died with the cries of "a dollar a day" still on their lips.

Amidst the chaos ravaging the city and surrounding area, Gavin focused on what he could control, as he checked his pistol in the back of the van carrying the rest of Jordon's men. It had taken longer than expected to find him in the ocean, and he was arriving at the prison much later than he'd wanted to. 

The area around the prison looked like a warzone, and Gavin, Jordon, Linval, and their handful of men looked like soldiers as they slowly made their way from the van to the building, covering 360 degrees in case of a potential attack.

The skin on her knees split like fruit rotting on the vine, a mouth full of dust and debris, Isabella rolled under the window as it exploded inward.  Coughing she kept low but bounced to the balls of her feet and kept moving forward attempting to keep up with Alvita who had run this course once before and lived to tell the tale.  So it was that Patches and she decided to follow the eldest woman's lead.

People rushed around in all directions.  Screams of madness, fear, and pain filled the air - as did the chants of those demanding equality from an oppressive government.  This riot was like millions of others that had come before and would yet come again.  It wasn't criminals that made good men into criminals, in Isabella's limited experience it was typically the people who were supposed to protect and serve the average man.

Through the women's cell block and into the men's they went, here the fighting was much worse.  It seemed the height of insanity to go deeper into a prison during a massive riot, rather than to rush the yard with all the others, but Alvita had likened the yard to a barrel of fish.  People rushing about, no clear path to safety, all being picked off by guards posted high up with high powered rifles.  The only safe way out, she noted, was through the ward where the mentally unstable were kept.  There was an exit, she noted, that doctors and supplies came through - rarely, but it existed.  It was their way out if they were bold, fast, and lucky.

Behind her Patches cried out and Isabella stopped to look back.  A guard had her and was throwing her to the ground violently.  Alvita took hold of Isabella’s hand and began pulling, urging her to keep going.  

They had, after all, discussed this.  They needed to spend as little time as possible in the men's cell block.  There would be the most guards here, the most weapons, the most risk.  To dally here was suicide, but Isabella could think about was her own mother and that little girl she hadn't even met yet, the one she swore she'd give a good life.  She couldn’t leave that girl without a family.

"Fuck."  Alvita cussed as Isabella tore her hand away and doubled back, but the woman kept pace.

The guard lifted his short handled club above his head, preparing to bring it down upon Patches' body in order to bludgeon her into submission.  

Isabella grabbed the club with a growl, the man's hand attempted to descend with all the force he'd hoped to put into his victim.  Instead, his hand came free from the club and were it not for a bit of leather that kept it tied to his wrist, Isabella would have disarmed him utterly.  

Ferociously she brought the club down the man’s side, behind and up the man's back, pulling his arm into an uncomfortable and difficult to break free of position.  Alvita came rushing in, wordlessly she began to stomp the guard down. 

Patches stood up, unshed tears in her eyes she gasped, "Thank you."  

Isabella freed the club from the guard’s wrist and Alvita lifted a set of keys off the guard’s belt.

"Let's go." Isabella told the women and she began to move forward again.  Behind them in a pool of his own blood, the guard lay dying.

Together the three of them moved as fast as they could in the opposite direction of every man and guard who they encountered, only stopping once they came to a thick wooden door, beyond which Isabella was sure she could hear hell itself.

Alvita tried the door, but as she expected, it was locked.  One by one she tested keys, but none of them were working.  Isabella wheeled around and began fending off a guard with her club.  Two blows to his core and he managed to connect a solid left hook that caused her to see stars.  It was in this moment that she realized, William had held back on her.  Isabella had NEVER been punched like this before.  She stumbled and struggled to stay in the moment, blinking and spitting blood.

“Give me those!”  She heard Patches say.  “Help her!”

Isabella held her head, the ringing in her ears was so loud.  She watched Alvita’s fist hammered again and again into the guard.  It was astounding anyone could fight that hard.  It was a stone cold reminder that Isabella, for all her tough talk, was no true child of the streets.  She was a guest in a world run by Alvitas.  It was all she could do not to gape in wonder at the woman, her brutality was an art form.  The way her body moved, it was like a shark in the depths.  The lines of her muscles, how even her clothing moved about her as she went from one blow to the next.

It was while she moved that Isabella saw it.  The glint of steel.  

She dropped down to her knees just then, her face poised suggestively, but instead of moving for some sort of romantic endeavor, she lifted his pant leg and relieved him of his knife.  “I may need this.”

Isabella ran forward and pulled Gavin’s knife from Alvita’s waistband.  She turned to speak but Isabella had no interest in her feeble explanations, instead she sliced a wide smile in the woman’s throat baptizing herself in a crimson spray.

She turned just as Patches got the door open.  

“GO!”  Isabella called out, casting one last look at Alvita drowning in her own blood on the floor beside the guard who she had bested.

Patches gaped only a moment before racing through the door into the asylum with Isabella hot on her heels.  Isabella tried to ignore the things she saw here.  She did not want to think about the shackles and the chains, or the people secured to walls and beds by them.  She did not have time to pity them or consider freeing them if she and Patches were to escape.  

She could have hidden, surely, and hoped that it was true that she was getting out… but this knife, the knife was the proof that Billings and his men had set people (even in here) about the task of finishing what they could not.  Worse, it might have been done by someone she trusted, and with Gavin’s own blade.  

Isabella held the knife to heart as she ran for the door on the farthest most right of the building.  It was cold steel now covered in an enemy’s blood, it should have given her no comfort at all, but it did.  It was a promise that very soon this would be over and she’d be reunited with Gavin.  She just had to find him first.

Patches got the door open, and Isabella stepped out into the sunlight.  She was nearly free of this place… nearly.
 

Gavin hit the prison like a battering ram, practically running as he moved with a mixture of instinct and reading occasional signs. They left Jordon and two other men at the door to secure their exit- and the van- while Gavin, Linval, and two others went deep into the prison. When they reached the women's prison, there were two left; both of Linval's supporters had been shot by trigger happy guards. Linval had a slight limp where a prisoner had whacked him with a pipe, but he was still moving. There was a fire somewhere in the building, and the smoke made it harder to see more than a few feet ahead.

As they reached the women's prison, Gavin wanted to shout her name. But he stayed quiet, moving silently as they made their way through the halls. Empty. They continued deeper into the prison. The smoke, the screams, and the chaotic, violent sounds turned the setting into the closest thing to hell that Gavin had experienced for over a decade. 

That is, until he saw Bella.

For the briefest moment as he turned the corner, he raised his gun at the two figures running at him- before flinging it to the side and knocking Linval's gun up and away as well. Gavin was thankful that the two other men were dead; they almost certainly didn't possess Linval's discipline.

"Bella!" 

She thought she was hearing things, he couldn't be here - he just couldn't be! 

Isabella turned, scrubbing Alvita's still warm blood from her face with the back of her off hand.  His face was less gaunt than the last time she saw him and covered in a beard.  He looked rugged, powerful, and more beautiful than he ever had to her before standing there with a rescue party she didn't really need.  But that wasn't the point. 

The point was that Gavin Byrne, the man who never looked back - the man who left lines of women broken hearted across the whole of the United States - the man who was once scared away by a toothbrush; this man came for her.  He'd fought against his wounds & impossible odds... he'd fought through hell to find her, despite what everyone thought he might do.

He'll always come for me.

She half-sobbed half-laughed his name, "Gavin!"  She didn't realize it until she was nearly in his arms, but she had broken into a run just to get to him faster.  All the while, silently, Patches watched for possible trouble.

Gavin was so concerned with making sure that he and Linval didn't shoot her that he was surprised to find Bella rushing into him and hugging him. Part of him wanted to just enjoy it, but he immediately grabbed her shoulders and pushed her back.

"You're bleeding. Are you hurt?"

His brow furrow, even as he scanned the hall behind her for possible trouble.

"I'm okay it's not mine..."  She said, frantically, though in truth some of it was - but she'd all but forgotten about how the guard has nearly knocked her block off when the adrenalin had flooded her system upon seeing Gavin's knife.

"There's a way out.  An exit the doctors use - back that way," nodding back towards Patches who was coming forward.

"This must be the Wolf."  Patches said.  Isabella blushed slightly, but was back to business as Patches continued to speak, "My Don, we should go."  She looked at Gavin.  "Even people close to her in here are trying to kill her."  Isabella knew Patches was right, but it took everything in her to not stare at Gavin - as if he was a dream suddenly made flesh.  "The faster we leave, the better.  Come, this way."

Patches turned back towards the door.

"These guys all with you?"  Isabella asked Gavin.

Gavin started to nod, then got stuck on the plural. Hadn't the other two been killed? He quickly turned and shot the man walking up behind Linval. A guard. 

"Uh... this one is. What do you say we get the hell out of here?"

Gavin kept his gun in his right hand, and held onto Bella's hand with his left. He was determined that they didn't get separated again. They weaved their way back through the building. Their perception of time broke once again, as the increasing smoke made it even harder to see. Gavin largely guided them back the correct way, although he occasionally had to backtrack or get corrected by Linval. 

When they reached the door they'd come in. Jordon and one of the men were still fighting to keep the way clear. The other man was shot, but not killed, lying in the back of the van.

They group moved forward, but it appeared that the danger was now focused on the interior of the prison or elsewhere.

The wounded men were loaded into the van first. Jordon drove and his remaining guard rode shotgun. Gavin, Bella, Linval, Patches, and the wounded men were in the back. As the van pulled away, Gavin knelt down in the back, holding the door slightly open to keep an eye out for signs of pursuit.

Isabella sat in the van and leaned her head back against the steel wall.  She was passed a bottle of water by a man she didn't know, but she gave him a smile and sniffed at it before swallowing, just to be sure it wasn't alcohol, right now she wanted her wits about her.

Linval smirked at her sniffing and eager consumption of the water. "White Wolf," He began in a quiet voice meant for Isabella alone, "Your Gavin, he's been a man with a singular mind these past few days and very deep pockets, I wondered what treasure was worth so much trouble."  He chortled, "It is good to finally meet you."

She realized then she was still gripping Gavin's knife white-knuckle tight in her main hand.  Her eyes remained on Gavin even while Linval spoke, watching as he stared intently out the back door.  His body framed in the light peaking through.  She smiled at him.  She knew he wouldn't look at her right now though, he was protecting her... he only had eyes now for what might be a threat. 

He was doing his job so she could live to do hers.  It was then she remembered her father's words and tears came to her eyes with a new enlightenment to the Godfather's surprising wisdom in the matters of the mafia, and of the heart.  And again, Gavin somehow seemed perfect, like her, because of his flaws and not in spite of them.  

My white wolf...

Through all the hell she'd seen and experienced in the last few days, it was this moment that truly threatened to break her.  She put a hand to her mouth to hold in the emotions.  Linval turned away, letting her have some hint of privacy.  She didn't dare speak a word in response to him, or any semblance of calm she had left would be gone with the wind.

They pulled up to some sort of camp and Gavin helped her out of the back of the van.  Isabella discussed with Patches where they could find her daughter and began making arrangements to gather the child up... as well as plans to have her long-suffering bodyguard picked up as well to meet them at her private plane.  It was time to leave this hell hole and get back to civilization where at least people had the decency to kill you in something resembling humane circumstances.

She didn't say a word of what was on her mind to Gavin, just stayed near him, working in tandem.  Him dealing with the men he knew so well and she interjecting where it seemed right and necessary.

Within a short amount of time, she'd been given something to clean up with and a change of clothes, then they were driving to the airport.  Patches daughter, no more than 11, was a quiet girl who clung to her mother.  She was seemingly grateful to have been reunited with her, but also scared of the people she did not know.  Isabella only spared the girl a gentle smile, for now, that was all she could make herself do - every ounce of her attention was locked upon Gavin.

Linval came along to the airport as well.  Isabella had discussed with him some options of him coming aboard with her at the Tower if he wanted, and she suspected in short order he'd be her newest bodyguard. Of course, details would need to be ironed out, but she had fully intended to give Neil the retirement he richly deserved just as soon as she got him back to the United States.  He'd been through enough for two lifetimes and she didn't want him dying in this line of work.  He should get married and have a bunch of little mid-western babies on a farm... caring for his elderly mother.

Only once the plane had gotten into the air, and she and Gavin were buckled in next to each other did she FINALLY break her silence to him.  She reached up and touched his beard lightly.  "I like this look on you... it suits you well." 

Then she gave him his knife back.  "Sorry I kept it so long, it's been through a few hands, but it's no worse for the wear."  She squeezed his hand and kept herself from rambling on about how much she loved him and how happy she was he was alive and all the over-used things people say in moments like this. 

If she was going to say the words to him again, she didn't want it to be after yet another near-death experience,  "When we land, can we just hide away for a day... I know my family is worried and yours is too... but, I just need to get my head back on straight and sleep... a lot.  God, I could sleep a week I think."

The transition from the van to the plane was chaos. Gavin didn't even relax when they were in the air. After all, it wasn't that long ago that Billings and Foster had felt themselves free and clear.

But as the ocean continued to fly by underneath them, Gavin finally let himself start to relax. He looked over at Bella as he pocketed his knife; there was much to say, but now wasn't the time to ask questions, to fill each other in on what had happened after they'd been separated. That would be later, and probably after a good night's sleep.

But for now... 

Gavin dug into his pocket, removing a bloodied, dirty, and ripped orange scarf that he handed to Bella. He couldn't help but smirk as he handed it to her.

"A souvenir. It was supposed to be a surprise."

Isabella took the tragic piece of fabric that had once been so beautiful.  She smiled at it.  "My scarf... you stole my scarf!"  She broke into laughter, which became an uncontrollable urge.  Her hands traveled to his face, fingers tangling in the still young hair of his beard, and pulling him towards her lips.  

She kissed him again and again, delighting in the feel, smell, and taste of him.  The kissing went on and on, she'd lost track of time as at some point she ended up in his seat on his lap.  They just kept holding, caressing, and kissing one another.  She might not even have stopped if not for the giggle of the child that reminded her she wasn't on a plane with grown adults who could look away and deal with it.

She laughed awkwardly and returned to her seat after that, making note of Neil's warm smile at her.  He genuinely was happy for her and Gavin - and so, it was settled in her mind.  There was no way she'd ever ask him to come back.  No one as good and sweet as Neil deserved to be part of her world.  His tour of duty was certainly done.

The plane landed late at night in Port Huron Michigan, and cabs took them to a hotel not far from the airport.  Rooms were booked for Niel and Linval and another for Patches and her daughter Ciri. Everyone was given enough cash for food the next day and then Isabella and Gavin left.  Bella had intended to shower in her own shower, eat her own food, and sleep in her own damn bed.  And so she took Gavin to her home in Port Huron, a place that she'd only told one other soul about up until this point - William, though he hadn't been very good at taking a hint and so had never visited.

A two-story old Victorian style home, renovated, it was a palace compared to where they had been, though it was similar in that it had a great view of the Blue Water Bridge and the St. Clair River.  She instantly turned to Gavin upon entering and locking the door and began kissing him and recounting to him the story of her misadventure - and he retelling his own.  Their stories interspersed with kissing, quick food prep and eating, drinking wine, and more kissing.

She hadn't been shocked by his actions with the agents for the most part and even told him how she'd told Billings his future.  Though she was horrified to hear Gavin had jumped from a plane and struggle suggested he NEVER tell his sister that.

She lamented the loss of Gavin's pet squirrel as they both remembered the poor creature at about the same time in the recounting of their tales.  It was almost despicable how they both felt back and yet found themselves laughing about the whole damn thing.  It was ludicrous if one thought about it... two mobsters, in the situation they had JUST been in, worrying for a baby squirrel in a fucking mini-cast.

Isabella would have offered to get him another one but she supposed really it had served its purpose and Gavin really wasn't a pet sorta guy anyway.  They'd had their joy with it... she hoped it escaped or bit one of the Agents before dying at least.  

After a long while, she curled up into a bed, naked beside Gavin, which ended exactly as she expected, exhausted but enthusiastic lovemaking.  She felt safe calling the act this, as this time it felt as though Gavin's every touch wasn't something done of lust or pride... but of self-indulgence.  The way a person savors a rich chocolate cake, as if they mean to make the pleasure sustain as long as possible.  Weary though they were, there was nothing that could have kept them from being together tonight.  Soon they would be states apart again - and her bed would go back to being as cold and empty as it had been when she thought Elias dead.

After she was physically spent, Isabella allowed Gavin to wrap himself all around her and hold her tight to his chest and here she fell fast asleep, trying not to have dreams of the places she'd been or the things she'd done or might have happened.  Failing miserably.  Twice she woke with a start only to have Gavin brush his fingers through her hair for a time and soothe her back to rest.  If only she could find some way to lift Gavin up out of Philly for good and bring him home to her Tower.  If only...

In the morning, Gavin stealthily exited the bed and walked silently to the bathroom, as if on padded feet. He showered briefly, shaved, and did his best to repair the lapses in hygiene that had occurred during his singular focus for the last week. When he returned to bed, Bella was still asleep, resting on her side. Gavin ran his fingers lightly through her hair and traced them over the curve of her naked hips. The memory of the previously night excited him, and he came to her again. What had last night been patient was now almost desperate. He wanted her as achingly as he did not want her to leave, and he was so taken aback by the intensity of both emotions that he threw himself into the moment. 

When he was finished, he collapsed on her, grinning as he kissed her scars before returning to his place by her side.

Today would see them go their separate ways, he thought. His thoughts consumed him for a moment- or perhaps more, since Bella had fallen asleep again next to her.

His voice was barely a whisper.

"I love you."

Again, she didn't wake up. In a few hours, they'd be gone. But for now, Gavin, perfectly content, allowed himself to drift back to sleep. 

Isabella stretched like a cat, lazily in a beam of sunlight that had insisted she open her eyes.  It was the ass-crack of two in the afternoon.  Did the sun have absolutely no respect for what she'd been through?  Well, at least she'd slept soundly after the excitement of the morning.  She turned over and pressed her body to Gavin's surprised to find him lying awake already.

"Oh!"  She said with a smile.  "You're awake."  She wondered how long he'd been watching her.  "How about I get up... and without a stitch of clothing on I make us something to eat before we talk about what can't be avoided?"

Gavin started to open his mouth.  Isabella put a finger to his lips.  "No.  I won't talk about it.  Just... we know we have to at some point.  Let's pretend a little bit longer that it's not coming... okay?  Just yes or no... do you want breakfast food?  I have pancakes."

He nodded.  And so she bounced out of bed, trotted out to the kitchen as nude as the day she was born, and began preparing pancakes.  He watched her with a smirk, but she was comfortable - singing as she cooked.  The room was decorated with photos of her mother and her from her childhood as well as her artwork.  THIS place felt like her.  It had bright colors and curiosities, hints of her mischief made in cities across the US.  Trinkets and souvenirs, she was a collector of things that seemed meaningless but Gavin could tell nothing here was without meaning.  A small label saved in a frame, a little brass elephant on the mantle, a string of wooden beads.  Each one had a story untold, it was as if he'd been welcomed into a small corner of her heart.

Sure enough, on a table, he found a matchbook from a bar in Montreal and in its cover, the date he and she had been there.  Casting eyes around the room, there had to be a lifetime of memories in physical form collected.  Bella, was more sentimental than she ever wanted anyone to know by the look of the Tower.

She plated the food and urged Gavin to join her.  "I'd like you to come back and visit again soon.  I have a lot of work to do and I know Jack needs you... but... if you can't, maybe I can sneak away to check on Purgatory?  You'll let me know how things are going in Philly, right?"

"Come to Philly."  Gavin said between bites of pancakes.  "As soon as you have time, let me show you the city."

"I've been to Philly before."  She said with a chuckle.

"Let me show you my Philly.  We'll have some laughs.  Piss my sister off properly."  He smiled and she smiled back knowing how much he loved Tara despite the headaches he gave her.

She sighed.  "I guess... but I demand ice cream."

"Vanilla."  He said nodding.  "Got it."

"And we stay at your place, even if it means you hire someone to clean it.  I want to see where you actually live.  Now that you've seen my home and not just the place I work."

"Deal."

Isabella popped some pancake into her mouth, nodding and after swallowing she said.  "It's settled then.  I'll come to Philly for an overnight visit just as soon as I settle affairs enough with my crew that they can spare me.  Ideally, that won't take terribly long."  What she didn't say was how sure she was that it was going to be at least a week, maybe two.  An overhaul of things was needed.  House cleaning had to be done.  God she was going to hate this, but if the Tower was to stay strong, she had to do what needed doing.

But first... she had to go to her Father.  That wasn't a meeting she was looking forward to at all.  The only thing she had going for her in this was that she was now decided on a relationship, and she'd been successful in clearing out the traitors.  Sadly, the cost had been very high for Detroit indeed.