Connor sat in his tiny apartment and tried not to fidget. If he kept still, he could sort out the muddle going on in his head. His mind was going crazy. And it wouldn't shut up no matter how he tried. There was always alcohol of course but he refused that route. If he kept drinking so much he would turn into Miles. So in the end, he just rolled a coin between his fingers as he often did.

"You know, when a man gets married, he generally likes for his family to be there."

Connor didn't even turn to face his father. "I'm sure Miles did an admirable job as a stand in. And shouldn't you be with your new bride, enjoying your honeymoon?"

"My son decided he didn't need to show up, I worried." Bass poured himself some whiskey and sat in front of his son. He looked like he hadn't slept in days with his rumpled tux and scruffy beard. Connor knew differently. "Would it kill you to pick up the phone once in a while?"

"Considering I spent the last half hour playing solitaire on that thing...I'm going to go with no."

"Then could you start returning my calls?"

Connor rolled his eyes. "I didn't want to disrupt your connubial bliss."

"Don't talk to me in that tone."

"I was being sincere. I hope you and the bitch are very happy."

Bass scowled at his son. "She has a name."

"And when I feel she has earned my respect, I'll start using it."

"Are you always this sarcastic?"

"Hang around me once in a while and you might find out."

Some days Bass wanted to strangle his son. He loved the boy to death but he was just so willful and angry all the time. "I'm a busy man. Or haven't you noticed that I'm building an empire for you."

"I am well aware that you're building an empire. Who it's for is still up for debate but its existence is without question."

The bitterness in his tone hurt Bass. He wanted his son to care about him. The same way he cared about Connor. Hell, he had done everything for the boy since his mother passed away. Why couldn't Connor see it? Bass lived his life to better pave the way for his son so Connor wouldn't suffer the way he did. "Look, I understand that you hate me but could you pretend not to for once?"

"I don't hate you," Connor said quietly. "You're my father and I love you. I don't respect you or a single one of your choices since mom died but I do still love you."

"All I did was get married and you're crucifying me for it."

"You got married to a woman whose husband you murdered. That doesn't seem fishy to you?"

"Of course it does. But I can keep an eye on her better if she's in my house than if she's off plotting in some corner of my empire." Bass looked his son over. "She has a daughter you know."

"I can see where this is going and let me just say, fuck that girl."

"That's what I'm hoping you'll do, actually."

"I'm not marrying some girl I don't even know," Connor retorted. "So get that idea out of your head."

"She's not a girl. She's only five years younger than you are."

"It's not happening."

"It happens if I say it happens."

"I'm sorry, I thought you gave a damn about me."

"Connor, I love you. You're my son and I care very deeply for you. I want what's best for you. And that's why I want this marriage."

Connor began to fiddle with his coin again. "If I get married I want to marry the way you and mom did."

"I know," Bass murmured. "But that isn't the life we have right now. Besides, she has to be kept close. That family is going to do something, I can feel it."

"You've already got Miles and Rachel under your thumb. Let the girl do what she wants. She can't be that big of a threat. She's one girl."

"We'll discuss this later," Bass finally decided. Connor knew his arguments probably wouldn't be heard but he'd try them anyway. But later, as his father said. Arguments could wait. They hardly saw each other after all. "Get your coat and your gun. We have business."

"What sort of business?"

"What sort do you think?"

"I think you have me confused with someone else. I don't do that sort of work."

"Connor, I need back up."

Connor glared at him. "We had a deal. I don't get my hands dirty anymore. You promised me when you took over the family that I wouldn't have to do that sort of work. You promised me on mom's grave."

"You don't have to do any of it. Just be my backup gun. I'll do all the killing."

"You promised." Connor knew that he sounded petulant but he couldn't help it. He didn't like killing. It reminded him too much of the night he lost his mother.

"Please, Connor, I don't trust anyone else to back me up."

"What about Miles?"

"He's busy with Nora."

"So order him not to be," Connor retorted. "You're the damn Don. Tell him to get off his whore and do his job." The words tasted sour in his mouth. Not about his father or Miles. But Connor didn't like calling Nora a whore. She was a nice person who just wanted to keep her head above water. He didn't take it back though. He was too angry.

"Don't call Nora a whore. It's disrespectful."

Connor noticed he didn't say it was untrue. But then, he knew how his father felt about Nora. He wasn't entirely sure why his father felt that way but it didn't really matter in the grand scheme of things. Let his father hate his best friend's girl. Maybe he would off Miles and Rachel could come for his head and Connor would be free. "You really don't care about my mother do you?"

"I loved your mother more than anyone else on this earth. And don't you dare say other way."

"You sure don't like respecting her memory." Connor looked at him. "Why are you even doing this? This is something for one of your thugs. Let them take care of this stupid hit. Go enjoy your new wife."

"It's too important to leave to them. I have to do this myself. And I need back up."

"You couldn't even kill Benjamin Matheson yourself like he deserved. I can't imagine this even comes close. So if this is some stupid attempt at bonding, forget it."

"I have to deal with a rival family. And you may hate it but we are family. So can I trust you to watch my back while I do all the dirty work?" Bass demanded

Connor didn't even try to pretend like he wasn't angry. Appealing to his sense of family was a low move and his father knew it. But he was also right. They were all each other had. His mother used to say that at the end of the day, family were the ones you could really count on. "Fine," he muttered. "Let me get my coat." They swept out to the car and he typed the address his father gave him into the GPS.

"Connor," Bass began as they pulled out.

"Don't. Talk," Connor growled. He would drive his father where they needed to go but he was going to do his best to block the entire night out. There were so many reasons why he hated this and even more why he hated his father for bringing him into it.

The actual hit took almost no time at all. True to his word, Bass let Connor stay in the car while he went in and did the killing. Connor thought he could handle it but when his father came out with actual blood on his hands…he felt a little sick. He still refused to talk to his dad, letting him off at the apartment before speeding home in a blur of anger and sadness. Connor hated his father. He hated that his mother had left them. And he hated the life he had been dragged into kicking and screaming. At times like this, he just felt like one big ball of hate.

Connor staggered up to his apartment, trying not to run into anyone. Fuck this entire night. He went to his closet and pulled out an old steamer trunk that looked like it was being held together with prayer and hope. Inside were mementos of his past, including his childhood teddy bear. He had been holding onto it the night his mother was murdered.

He took the bear and curled up on his bed, forcing himself to remember each and every moment of that horrific night. It was the only way to stay grounded at times like these.

Connor was trying very hard to be brave. They had driven so long only to be stopped by strange men and made to go all the way back. He wondered why they had to hurry out of the house if they were just coming home again. But something about how mommy and daddy were reacting made him scared. He also had to pee but didn't think it was a good idea to say anything.

They were taken in front of a man Connor had never seen before. But the man started talking to mommy and daddy and there was yelling. He didn't understand what they were talking about. Why was everyone so mad? Why was his mommy crying? Daddy tried to get in front of them but they pushed him out of the way. "Don't let them see," mommy begged. "Bass, promise me."

"Emma!"

"Take care of them for me, Bass. I love you. Take care of our children."

Mommy was dragged to the center of the room and Connor couldn't see what was happening. Daddy pulled him into his arms and all he could see was Daddy's collar. His daddy's ragged breath echoed in his ear. There was a loud bang and Daddy screamed. Connor wanted to see what was going on. He began twisting in his father grip but he was being held too tight. "Not my girls," Daddy begged. "Please, they're just three years old. Let them live."

Two more loud bangs came and Daddy started sobbing. Connor clutched at his bear. Something was very wrong here. Daddy held onto him while the men walked them to the car and drove them back to the house. "Where's mommy?" Connor asked once they were alone inside.

Daddy didn't answer. He called Miles over and they went to the kitchen to talk. Connor stood in the entry way until Daddy was finally done with Uncle Miles. "It's time for bed," he said in a rapsy tone. "You need to get changed."

"I wet myself," he said, burying his head in his bear. Daddy was going to yell at him for this. Five year olds were big boys and big boys didn't wet themselves anymore.

"That's okay," Daddy said, kissing his hair. "We'll give you a nice warm bath okay? It's going to be fine, buddy."

Connor followed his daddy upstairs and let himself be bathed and tucked into bed. He wanted his mommy to read him a story like she did every night. But something in Daddy's eyes told him not to ask that. He lay in the dark illuminated by his Big Bird nightlight for a long time before Uncle Miles came to the door. "You're not sleeping," he noted.

"I can't," Connor blubbered. Something was wrong and he was scared. Uncle Miles sat next to him and began to sing. It wasn't quite right but it had been an exhausting night and it was nice to hear something familiar. Connor slipped into slumber.

Connor came back to reality, realizing he had soaked his bear in tears. He remembered the days after when he barely saw his father. Dad and Miles had been arranging his mother and sisters' burial in Jasper. Connor hadn't been allowed to attend. While they were in their hometown, he was left behind with a strange woman he later learned was to be his nanny. And damn had Connor ever needed one. His father was distant from that day on, finding any possible way he could numb the pain while he hunted down those responsible.

He wiped his eyes and looked at the picture of his mother he kept on his night stand. She wouldn't want this for him. Emma Bennett was the kind of woman that believed in true love even after her first husband abused her. But Connor knew no matter how he argued, he was going to be married to the Matheson girl.

It was not what he wanted. But that didn't make it bad. Tomorrow he would contact his father and ask for a picture of her. If he was going to be married, he should at least know what she looked like. Then he would learn everything he could. What she liked, what she hated, who her friends were, every last detail he could glean from those around them. Even if she wouldn't love him (and he suspected she wouldn't. He was Sebastian Monroe's son which was already two strikes against him) he could make her his friend. That would at least be bearable.