Four days was all it took. Madeline had tracked down Frankie 'Blue Shoes' Malone and made sure he would no longer be a problem for Alexander. She took no shortcuts, offered no bribes. No, a man like Malone couldn’t be dealt with in one way – one very violent way.

In fact, Madeline had done a lot of killing recently. First Don Ricci and his entire upper structure and now Malone. It was almost worrisome how it had become like second nature to her, but in their line of work, it was to be expected. Besides, she hadn’t wanted to hesitate in a situation like this; she wanted to get home before he left so she could make sure he heard it directly from her. She had told him she was going on a work trip and that wasn’t true. She had lied, but it wasn’t malicious, and she wanted to make sure he was aware of that.

What she hadn't expected in the past few days was how much she'd learned about the man. She'd learned about his childhood and his personality; how he spent his time and what sorts of experiences, both good and bad, he'd been through. She didn't know everything in detail, but she knew enough that it gave her a new appreciation for the man he'd become. 

Even still, she was nervous when she got back to her apartment. It was early evening, and the sun was setting over the city. She’d spent most of the day on a plane, so she was dressed casually, wearing dark red pants, a white blouse, and black flats, with her hair tied in a messy bun. Pushing open her front door, she glanced around her apartment; she wasn't sure what to expect. It wasn’t often she came home knowing someone was there already, so this feeling was new to her.

“Hello?” She said, her voice loud enough to hopefully be heard throughout the apartment. “Nikolas? Alex? I'm home.”

"In here!" Alexander shouted out in response from the kitchen. Dressed in pyjamas and a vest, he stood against a counter smoking a cigarette bare-foot. Most of his bruises had turned from the brutal blue to a relatively healthy maroon. The stitches on his left cheek were coming along nicely too. The last four days of rest had been good for his recovery.

As he saw her turn the corner to the kitchen, he pulled the cigarette out and tossed it into a makeshift ashtray he had made from an empty flower vase. "You look like shit." He joked referencing one of their previous encounters knowing full well that in this instance the comment probably suited him more. Limping over to an almost empty pitcher nearby, he poured the pink liquid into a glass and said "The babysitter you left me was pretty loyal to you, wouldn't give up any funny stories about you. That is until I handed him a few of these." Leaving the glass next to her he walked back over to the counter and began wiping it with the rag he had on his shoulder. "Then he sang like a canary. Can't believe you lost your shit trying to swim in 3 feet of water in LA. That's it, I'm volunteering as a coach because you Miss Madeline really need one." 

Wiping off the counter, serving a well-made drink to a beautiful woman, Alexander almost felt like he was back in The Phoenix bar in LA. Wiping his hands off, he tossed the rag aside. And flashed her his conspiratorial grin. Cooped up in the apartment, unable to fully move with ease, he had done little else but make phone calls and try and arrange the money for Malone. It felt good to see a familiar face again. Especially since he had spent his entire time in her house, around her things, he couldn't help but miss her company.

With a sigh, he passed by her and brought his hand up to mess her hair playfully. As he passed her he winced as his sore ribs lit up with a flash of pain forcing him to take a seat.

Madeline heard his voice coming from what seemed like the kitchen, so she headed in that direction. She spotted him, shirtless one again. Her eyes took in his bruises and she was relieved to see that he seemed to be doing much better than when she left him. He made a joke about her appearance, which caused her to chuckle.

“And you’re somehow shirtless. Again. Not that I’m complaining.”

A smirk was on her lips as she watched him pour a drink and start talking about his time with Nikolas. The smirk faded a bit when he talked about how Nikolas had been far more open after drinking a few of whatever it was in that pitcher. “First off, I highly doubt he would be appreciate being called a babysitter. Secondly, he wasn’t supposed to be drinking. He never drinks, so it’s no wonder he’s a lightweight.” Although, part of her was glad to see the man lightening up sometimes. Nikolas took his job too seriously most of the time.

“And most importantly, I did not lose my shit. I got a little nervous, I grew up in Texas. There are no oceans in the middle of Texas.”

She picked up the glass he left her and took a sip, her eyes widening slightly as the liquid coated her throat. “This is fantastic. No wonder Nikolas loosened right up.” She took a second sip, grateful for the liquid courage. Ducking under his hand, she frowned. “No touching the hair.”

A few moments later and he was sitting. He’d improved but it had only been a few days and it was clear he was still in a bit of pain. She took a seat at the table across from him, taking the third sip before she spoke.

“Has the doctor come back to check on you?”

Madeline knew she just needed to spit it out, but suddenly it made her feel self-conscious. She didn't know what had made her suddenly decide to fix this problem for him and she would have no idea what to tell him if he asked. 

"Yes, yes I am. Funny how that happened. Maybe the universe is trying to tell us something, no?" He teased her and added a wink for good measure. Leaning back comfortably in his seat while he still had his fist clenched, trying to fight through the pain he smiled and said. "Never took you for a cowgirl you any good at riding or is that the same as your swimming?" That was the first time she had told him about her past. His eyes burned with questions but he knew he couldn't push her. She'd tell him what she was ready to tell him when she was ready to tell him.

As she took another sip and complimented the drink, a dry chuckle elicited out of his throat. Rubbing his bruised jaw delicately, he rolled his eyes and joked "It is, isn't it? Almost as if I've done this professionally in the past." 

When she mentioned the doctor, his face turned sour and fearing a stern talking to, he hesitantly said "He did, wasn't happy that I wasn't under bed rest. Told me to let go of the stress so I kicked him out." With a sheepish grin he continued "In my defence, it's hard to stay in bed, regardless of how comfortable it may be, for too long. Those springs don't seem to have been too strained. What's wrong? Having a dry spell."

The look in her eyes turned threatening and he raised his arms in surrender while smiling mischievously. "Besides," He paused to draw in a deep breath. His expression turned stoic as he added. "I had to make some calls, come up with the money. Burnt some bridges, but I think I've got what Malone asked for now."

Madeline's eyes flashed with a moment of anger. Although she knew he was teasing, she didn't like that he thought of her that way at all. She'd never been ashamed of it, not really, but for some reason, she cared what he thought about her and those sorts of comments made it seem like he saw her as some kind of a floozy. 

"I'm not a cowgirl, and I don't ride horses. I did, however, learn how to shoot at a very young age." She grinned, one of those smiles that were innocent without actually being innocent. "You're in the guest room, and I never have guests, so you're probably the only person who has ever slept on the thing. Besides, I told you, I don't bring men here." A quick grin and a mischievous glance were followed by "And I don't have dry spells." 

She took another sip from her glass, chuckling at his comments about the doctor. The man had been working with the family since she came to New York, she was sure he was used to dealing with stubborn mafiosos. But when he mentioned Malone and the money he'd spent the past days trying to come up with, she couldn't help but sigh. She took another long sip from her glass before her eyes met his. 

"You don't need it. Not anymore." She could see the confusion on his face, and she pressed forward. "I lied when I told you I had a business meeting already arranged. I was angry at what happened to you, and I went to deal with it. I tracked down Malone, and I made sure he wouldn't both you again. You won't need the money you scrapped together, not now and not ever." She was sure the implication was clear, but she stopped short of actually saying the man was dead. 

Madeline carefully watched him, her eyes searching his for any sign of anger or disappointment. She still wasn't sure she had made the right decision to make this move without telling him first, but she'd find out for sure in the next few moments. 

Glad to see her sense of humour could handle his jabs and allow her to dish out some of her own, he smiled in approval. However, her last comment made it disappear. His face displayed a million different emotions at once as he tried to comprehend what her words meant. When the realization of what she had done struck him, his mind battled between horror and relief. 

He'd always known that she was involved in illicit activities on the wrong side of the law but he had chosen to remain blissfully ignorant of the details. He had been living in a fantasy world where the illegal actions of people of criminal disposition, although everpresent around him, had never directly had any fatal consequences towards the people he knew. A bribe here, a threat there, that was all he had asked his New York associates to conduct to facilitate his career. But this, this was something that could never be taken back.

And yet at the same time, he knew how hard he had to struggle to afford the money this time. How many bridges he had to burn to scrounge together this meagre amount of cash. Would Malone really have left him alone after he got the money? Would Alexander have been able to return to his developing business in serious debt? Would his dreams have simply evaporated because a ghost from the past came knocking?

All those questions were once he had the answer to but didn't want to face. She had done the right thing and he would be grateful to her forever. Still, one question still rolled in his mind, pricking at him like a poisonous thorn. It was a question he couldn't answer and not just because he didn't want to. It was something he truly didn't understand.

Tilting his head upwards he leaned close, held on to her hands, looked into her worried eyes and broke the silence. "Why? Why risk yourself for me? Why patch me up? Why help me deal with my problems? Why me?"

Madeline watched as various emotions showed on his face. His silence seemed to drag on for eternity, and so, of course, she instantly doubted every decision she’d made. Why did she always have to be so impulsive? Especially in situations like this, maybe it would have just been better to wait.

She wasn’t sure what to expect when he took her hands and leaned in closer to her. His question wasn’t entirely unexpected, although maybe the way that he asked it was. “I don't know.” Her voice was soft as she responded, and she let out a gentle sigh.

“I could lie to you and tell you that I did it because you're valuable. Because you grew here in New York and Tara is a business associate of mine. You're an investment for her and helping to protect you could be advantageous for me politically. I could tell you that, and maybe you would believe it because it's logical.”

She looked at him, her green eyes meeting his as she tried to explain something that she didn’t even really understand herself. “But none of that even crossed my mind until I was already on my way back, trying to decide how I would explain it to you. All I know is that when you lay in that bed and explained to me what that man was doing to you, I decided that I couldn't allow that to happen. And when I found him, and I spoke to him, I knew it wasn’t as simple as just paying him off. If I had done that, he’d never have gone away. He would be back every time you launched another album or made any lucrative business deal, asking for more and more money. He would never leave you alone.”

Madeline looked down at their hands, intertwined with each other. She wasn’t good with this stuff; with words and emotions. She didn’t like the way it made her feel like there was an aspect of her life that she couldn’t control.

“I barely know you, and yet every time I'm with you I feel…different? I don’t know how to explain it. The past few weeks of my life I have been to hell and back again. You saw some of that when you found me after the show. And I’ve started to piece myself back together again, but I’m not the same person that I was before.”

Maybe she was saying too much. She usually didn’t say enough, but in this instance, she couldn’t seem to stop it from just flowing out.

“It was very out of character for me, to pick up and fly off to defend anyone other than myself. I truly believe that I did what I was supposed to do. You matter to me, Alexander. Even if I don’t quite understand it myself or know what to do with it, I know it’s true.”

This overwhelming sense of vulnerability was exactly why Madeline didn't share her thoughts or feelings very often. To just lay it all out for another person and then have to wait for their response was something she had tried to avoid for so long. Even now, as she sat here, she was questioning why she was doing it. Except it was already done and she couldn't exactly take it all back now. 

Images flashed through Alexander's mind. Her coked out of her senses at his opening night on Broadway. Her showing up at his apartment distraught and drunk. Him taking off to a new city. The two of them laying by the docks staring at the stars. Him waking up to her worried face sitting beside him waiting for him to wake up after his beating. It seemed like they had a way of running into each other at their worst moments. When their problems got too much for them, they would somehow find themselves in each others company.

He had felt a protective instinct overcome him the moment he knew she needed help. He had been there for her without smothering her and allowing her stubborn desire for self-dependence to suffer. Now it seemed, the same could be said of her. 

He understood how hard it must have been for her to utter those words. Facing those realizations was tough for him, but he knew it was much worse for her. He could see the vulnerability overwhelm here. He could see her second-guessing her actions. He could see the feelings repressed within her beginning to resurface. He could see all of those things because they reflected his own anxieties and fears. They were too broken people seeking solace from the pressures of solitary existence but reluctant to face their desires.

There had been moments when he had wondered if they could grow into something more than they were. There had been moments when they had flirted with the idea of a deeper relationship. There had been moments when they had almost taken the crucial step. But he had hesitated. His rational mind had warned him against an unhealthy tryst with her.

His hand came up to brush a stray strand of blonde hair behind her ear. It traced a slow path down her cheek to her chin. His eyes gazed into hers and in that moment he knew. He didn't care about the ramifications, the consequences, the outcome of this unhealthy liaison. He wanted her, no... he needed her.

Without a word in response to her confession, he leaned in close. His hungry lips brushed against hers, sending jolts of electricity into his body at the touch. His hands moved to her hair as they kissed. All those months of hesitation and anticipation had led to this. As their lips parted and his tongue pushed past, his decision had been the right one. Whatever came next they would face it together.

Pulling back reluctantly, he rested his forehead against hers. With a conspiratorial smile, he whispered. "Thank you, for everything."

To say Madeline had kissed a lot of men in her life would be an understatement. She wasn’t blind to that, and she didn’t hide it; she wasn’t ashamed. But none had been like this; the two of them had danced around this moment since he had found her at her darkest. He had taken care of her that night, and she had done the same now.

There was so much about life that Madeline still didn’t understand. Every day was a struggled to not fall back into the darkness, but at that moment, when their lips touched, all the doubts and worries and fears fell away. There was no perfect answer to life. There was no simple solution to every problem. But what Madeline had come to learn since Texas was that sometimes having a partner to solve problems with wasn’t a weakness, it was a strength. 

There was still so much about her that he didn't know and she knew the same was true in reverse, but they had time to figure all of that out. In situations like this, usually, every instinct of Madeline's was to run as far and as fast as she could. But not this time; it seemed she and Alex were inexplicably drawn together no matter what happened and Madeline knew there was no running from this. 

"You don't have to thank me. I would do it again." And she knew that she would, without hesitation. She kissed him again gently before standing, taking his hand and tugging him with her. "I'm about to break a cardinal rule. But something tells me it will be well worth it." She smiled at him softly before leading him to her bedroom and closing the door behind them.