AN: This is a sequel to Fighting Redfox, which you must read first in order to understand the events of this story. Both stories are interconnected.
I had been struggling to write for sometime since my brother's death involving heroin. As I wrote in Fighting Redfox, this sequel contains drug usage; not all who are drowning within the drug's hold are bad people. Not at all. Sadly they just made one bad choice. The rest were made against their wishes, against their better judgement, which could have/may have led to their untimely end. It's not up to us to determine their fate, but we must help them do what is right through encouragement. This story has strong redemption themes as well: there is still hope for the ones still caught in narcotic traps.
Note that I am unwilling to discuss opinions over drug usage/addiction in general in the reviews/comments, as that is reserved for the story itself. If you wish to speak with me regarding the topic, feel free to PM me.
Fighting Redfox and Finding Gryder are dedicated to my brother, Brian.
Storyline: [AU] Recruited by Sting, Mest Gryder begins his descent down a dark path that carries him to the better half of his life. With a family of his own now, he knows about sacrifice. After witnessing a crime, he and Gajeel again enter the struggle against the destructive life they had rejected. It's the fight of a lifetime for both father and son in this Fighting Redfox sequel. [Two plot converg/lemons] *Major character death warning
Two separate plots - the past and the present - collide as events unfold.
*Rated Mature - There is intense language, violence, drug usage, and some sexual situations. Reader discretion is strongly advised.
*I do not own any of the media.
*I do not own any of Fairy Tail - that's all Hiro Mashima.
AN: I watched a lot of the show Graceland, just like I did for Fighting Redfox. Also the movie The Departed. If you like crime dramas, then those are my recommendations.
I understand that some components of being an undercover agent that I've written would not fly in real life, but for the sake of the story.
There is drug usage in this chapter. A disclaimer right now that I do not condone the using of any kind of drug. The only reason I know so much about this crap is cuz I read and I watch too much TV/movies.
Chapter Three - Hidden Skills
Melina checked the time on her phone for the third time that morning. Her husband was usually an on-time kind of person, if not early. Today, he was going to be late for work if he didn't hurry. She gave Brielle small pieces of banana, placing them onto her plate, then turned towards the stairs. "It's almost 7:30!" she called.
Not long after, she heard his rushed footsteps down the carpeted stairs. He emerged at the landing at a clipped pace. His hair was washed, but the rest of him surprised her. It wasn't his usual button up and slacks. He wore clothing that seemed more appropriate for a workout than an office job.
"Sorry, I got held up," he said with a rush. His work phone was in his hand. He shouldered a backpack, one he had used previously to haul his gym clothes.
"Why aren't you dressed?" Melina asked. She didn't hide the clear surprise from her face. She wiped Brielle's face with a napkin, still looking at him.
Gryder grabbed a water bottle from the fridge. "I am, we're going to the department's gym to workout first," he said, holding up his phone to indicate the person he'd just spoken to. He motioned to his backpack slung in one shoulder. "I've got everything else for later."
"Oh."
That was new. Melina simply watched him kiss their daughter on the head as the little girl stuffed a banana piece in her mouth. "What time will you be home then?"
Gryder came up to her and briefly planted his lips to hers. "Same time as normal. If I'm gonna be late, I'll let you know."
"Do you want something to go?"
Gryder shook his head at the mention of breakfast. "I don't have enough time."
"I'm done!" Owen called out.
Gryder turned to make his way to the front door, stopping short with a "whoa" when he almost ran into Owen's hands still sticky with visible jelly from his toast. He laid a hand on Owen's head to direct him to the kitchen sink.
"Be careful, I love you," Melina loudly shouted when he opened the front door.
"Love you too." And then he disappeared with the door clicking shut behind him.
He rushed down the porch steps as he unlocked the device in his hand. Scrolling to the recent contacts, he chose the one he wanted and sent a simple text, On my way.
Part of him felt guilty for not telling Melina the whole of his job. He couldn't disclose it to anyone but his handlers. It was too much of a risk to not only him, but to his family.
When they approached him with the job offer, he had laughed in their faces. It wasn't what he had signed up for. Not in the least. How was that not an appropriate response? It was a position that wasn't coveted for many reasons. Even if offered, no one wanted it because of the danger. Everyone who made it past graduation entered into a career with no surprises. As safe as could be expected considering the field choice.
Everyone that is, except him.
Maybe it was because of his scores in certain areas, having scored the highest out of all the rest of his class in the particular categories the supervisors flagged for. Maybe it was his life history. If it was, he could consider neither it a blessing nor a curse. It was his lot. Call it fate.
Nevertheless, it killed him that he had to lie. Every day. To his wife. He had had to spin intricate fabrications to his entire family and friends from his very first day on the clock. It was quite literally his job description.
Not that he complained much. It brought food to the table. It could all be much worse.
As soon as he pulled over to park along the street curb, he tugged his backpack along, palming his keys. The walk to the rental wasn't far. To the untrained observer, he was just another visitor to the old man who lived there. A grandson or nephew.
He knocked on the door. A muffled voice answered. "Who is it?"
"It's me, dumbass. Open up," Gryder hissed. Behind him was the street and on the other side were houses that lined it. He fought the urge to look over his shoulder. It always felt like someone was watching. Like he'd get caught.
The door cracked open and Gryder immediately pushed it further inside to slip through. He turned the corner into the living room. It all looked the same. Just as he had left it the day before.
Three different kitchen tables were clustered together in the center of the carpeted room. Upon each of them were many electronics. Laptops, listening devices, and cameras were all attached to their charging cords, which were massed together and plugged in at an industrial strength power strip in the middle of the triangle.
"What took you so long?" a man in a white button up asked, sitting back down. He didn't look up as he rolled his chair to the next table, intent for the computer upon it.
Gryder frowned. "You know I have a life, Don."
"A life. That's cute." Don's voice dripped with sarcasm as his fingers typed. He hit the enter button on the keyboard and sat back in the chair. His voice went back to a hard edge. "We own your ass now. You don't get to have a life."
"Go easy on the kid," Tom spoke up. "Just for that, he's getting your cup." He casually sipped from a coffee mug and handed Gryder the other one in his hand.
Don ignored him. Instead of acknowledging, he looked at Gryder as he took a tentative sip of the hot coffee. "It's 8am. You got fifteen til drop."
"Do you think he'll show?"
"He better. Depends on how well you've done your job." Don frowned.
Trying to quickly drink his first beverage of the day, Gryder took the chair next to him and leaned in to see the screen. It was split into two different windows, each one the active roll of two security cameras on the house several doors down. One viewed the front and the other the side and backyard. "Of course I did my job. Who else could get a drug dealer to befriend an undercover cop?"
Don couldn't help but crack a grin. "As long as he doesn't think you're some kind of nark."
"I did everything short of using the stuff myself. He agreed almost instantly the moment I suggested I had a friend who was interested."
Tom nodded. "Good deal. All we need is him with the content spread out, so make sure he's showing off the product. The rest will be up to the DEA. Don't forget to put on a good show."
"Yea, yea, this ain't my first rodeo," Gryder joked. He caught the gaze of the old man with a small smile.
Nearly retired from the force, Tom was the grandfather he never had. Unlike Don, the veteran police officer had faith in Gryder's ability to blend the law and the crime world together seamlessly. It had taken a few rounds in the undercover ring to convince him, but after the kid got the hang of it, he knew Gryder would be a force with which to be reckoned.
Gryder stood up to walk off the bit of nerves that always plagued him before a show. As he walked and stretched, Tom nodded to him. "Remember, there will be no lights or sirens. I'll alert you when they're seconds away, so act surprised."
"They will know which ones are the cops, right?"
Don seemed insulted. "You're not bald with tribal tattoos on both sides, are ya? Of course, they'll know. This time."
"This time?" Gryder's voice rose. His hand flew into the air and he turned to him, altering his voice when he spoke. "What tha fuck is that suppose ta mean?"
The undercover handler at the computer let the smile crack on his lips. "There's the Byron Selles we all know on this case. Time to retire the name. Bring him down."
Gryder nodded.
He was ready. As ready as he'd ever be. There was always an anxious flutter in his stomach every time he entered the stage, but as the act went on and he played the part, his nerves gave way to solid steel. Failing to morph into his cover identity was something he rarely did. The walkies came to life as he opened the back door to leave. The swat team signaled their positions a few blocks over and were awaiting orders.
He touched the nearly invisible earpiece tucked into his ear, making sure it was in all the way. The hair curling around his ears helped to hide it further. He backtracked down a few houses, easily maintaining a casual walk up the sidewalk towards the target house.
The voices of his handlers in his earpiece were a comfort as he assumed his character and approached the target's front door. He made a point to sniff and fidget with his sleeves before he knocked three times. Standing there, he looked over his shoulder once, sniffing again. His hands stuffed themselves in the hoodie pocket.
There was no weapon on him now that the act was once again live. To show the man he'd been investing into for months that he was indeed the same Bryon who shot up heroin every day, who was a harmless addict looking to make extra cash, he had to keep continuity. The moment something changed on his person -no matter how minute of a detail it seemed- it could potentially fuck up the entire investigation. A gun now when there was not before would be a red flag.
And they'd have a difficult time trying the same tactic twice on the same subject; they were criminals, they weren't born yesterday.
The door opened, revealing a bald man in a white tank. He was tall and built. One glance at Gryder and he stepped aside, turning his back to let the familiar guest follow.
"Alright, we're inside, standby." Don spoke to everyone through the same channel, giving only important play by play information when necessary.
The two of them entered the main living room. The glass coffee table was moved closer to the couch and a large black case was open on top. Inside was a junkie's dream, full of choice selection gathered from the streets and connections with cartels from various locations across the area, complete with the means to use said merchandise.
It was also the DEA's single reason for targeting the very person Gryder now stood mere inches from. Andre had been ratted out by a fellow street dealer and distributor -who was now Gryder's CI- not long before in exchange for a lesser prison sentence later. All they had to do was come up with a buyer and catch them in the act. The evidence would be right there alongside in plain sight. It would all be enough to indict.
Gryder followed closely behind, shoulders hunched and fingers slightly fidgety. "This all of it?" he asked. His green eyes skirted the case.
Andre narrowed his eyes. "Yea, it's not good?"
The undercover cop made a face. "It could be better, but my dude ain't picky. It's good enough."
The bald man smirked and roughly sank into the couch cushion. "Have you talked to him? When's he comin'?"
Gryder pulled out a rolled blunt from his pants pocket and casually lit it with a lighter inside the supply case. He offered a while roll to his partner, who took it with a grunt of thanks.
"On my way here," Gryder said as he inhaled. He held the breath for the briefest of moments before letting it and his words out in a rush. He tried to be as calm as he could. "Said he's comin' now."
He coughed when the white smoke tumbled out of nose. He looked at the small roll between his fingers, holding it like a pencil. "This shit is dank, dude."
The smoke billowed from Andre's parted lips before he began to cough. He tried to speak through it, but ended up nodding with a huge grin.
It wasn't hard for the undercover officer to draw on the atmosphere. Memories of snorting the same stuff packed away in the case six years prior, back when he worked for Lascola, it was easy to fake the high. Both good and bad recalls came to mind, but Gryder expertly shoved it all back to focus on the now. What he smoked presently was nothing in comparison.
He'd rather not be tempted.
"You gonna shoot?"
Andre's eyes hooded a bit and he rolled his head towards him. "Wanna now?"
Gryder chuckled. He paced from the curtains that covered the windows to the recliner next to them. He sat down, haphazardly putting his foot on the coffee table's edge. "Ya know me. I think we should wait for Nate. It ain't polite to get high on the merch, what if he's insulted we couldn't wait, eh?"
"You have the self-control?"
"My self-control is about tapped," Gryder confessed. He made a point to tear his eyes away from the case with difficulty, pretending it was making him itchy for a loaded needle. He scratched at his left arm near the inner elbow.
"Buyer is at the walkway," Don's voice calmly stated in his earpiece.
The cop looked at the floor to listen for the knocks.
At the few tentative knocks on the front door, Gryder sat up. "May I?" he asked, gesturing to the door.
The drug dealer flicked his wrist.
Once he checked the porthole at his eye level, Gryder opened the door and met another undercover agent working with the DEA disguised as an experience heroin buyer. The two of them smiled and worked their hands into a quick handshake gesture, keeping it casual. They were supposed to know one another.
Nate slowly entered the living room, eyes roving all over to get his bearings. "'Sup," he stated easily, giving a nod to Andre.
"My man Selles says you're good for it." The bald man never made a move to stand up. Maybe the kush blunt was working in Gryder's favor in keeping him sedated.
Nate sniffed. "Yea. If the price is right."
"I dunno, you tell me if it's right'er not."
The dealer leaned up and turned the case around on the glass top, exposing the goods inside to a new set of eyes. The man stared hard at the contents. His hand came up to his wrist, a tell where he preferred to shoot up.
Gryder returned to his previous seat, saying, "We waited. I dunno 'bout you, but I need my fix."
Without another prompt, Andre dived right into his supply and started preparing a syringe. The man was playing right into the agents' trap. While he worked, Gryder and Nate shared a meaningful gaze, knowing both heard the same thing in their earpieces: the team was moving into position.
Andre held it up in the air, pointing the needle up. He stared at it like a wolf staring down a deer. His hooded eyes dropped to the other two men, offering the first dose.
Gryder sat back and put his feet up again, looking at Nate. His eyes held a serious tint. "You first since yer shellin' out the bucks."
Nate gave an easy smile and took the syringe. "Alright, don't mind if I do."
"Go, go, go." The voice in the earpieces went from quiet and focused to clipped and excited the moment the full line exited the field agent's mouth.
Gryder tried not to tense when his partner in the charade said the magic words. They knew in a matter of seconds through the door would come a whole lot of heat.
Like clockwork, the door swung wide with a bang, and in came a swarm of black-vested officers wielding .9mm Glocks, yelling out their agency's name and to get on the ground.
The onslaught took the dealer by total surprise. He looked up with utter shock on his face when they burst in. He gave quick glances in both Gryder and Nate's directions. Officers had their guns pointed at all three of them, their shouts now hurting their ears.
"DEA! Hands on your head! Hands on your head!" one agent yelled, aiming his Glock close to Gryder's face. "Do it now!"
He compiled, but not before mouthing off. "Motherfucker!" The young disguised cop picked his head up off the carpet and shot a glare at Nate as another officer pulled his hands behind his back to cuff him. "The fuck! You do this?!"
Nate returned the gaze with fury as his own hands were cuffed with a few clicks of metal. "Like hell I did."
Andre was silent, keeping his eyes trained on who he thought was his friend, watching everyone's reactions. Gryder tried to shake off the hands now holding him down with a growling "fuck you", but it earned him another hand squishing the side of his head onto the dirty floor with more force than necessary.
"Shut up, asshole," the officer spat, crouched above him.
More officers flocked to them, one keeping his gun trained on the drug dealer the whole time. A few DEA gathered around the case, taking extra pics of the whole scene and carefully packing it up to be examined later.
Two officers hoisted the undercover agents to their feet, then another did the same with their target. Outside the house, marked units sat in the small, unmowed yard. They walked the men in custody to separate holding vehicles. Andre watched with defeat as the cops began to haul his stash of wrapped heroin bricks out in duffle bags.
It was over for him. He'd been unofficially caught.
There was not a damn thing he could do. With this the law would throw him into prison. The druggies who frequented him for their supply would be forced to find someone else who to encourage their habit or sober up with the realization that they too run the risk of eventually falling into the same trap.
With what seemed like hours of sitting in the locked patrol vehicles, they finally wrapped up the scene and units began to leave. The first one to leave had Andre in the back. Gryder, with a rough look of feigned anger, watched as the marked unit hauled back to the department. Once the vehicle was out of sight, Don appeared beside the SUV.
"Good work, Gryder," he commented happily. He opened the door to let him slip out.
"Get these off me."
The cuffs released their hold on his wrists. "These were way too tight," Gryder said. There was a partial red ring around the sides where it had pressed against him. He hoped it wouldn't develop into bruises; that would be another thing he would have to keep from Melina.
Tom came around then with a bottle of water. He offered it out to his grandson. "That was a successful raid. Great job."
"All in a day's work," Gryder replied and took the bottle. He let a grin show before he chugged some.
Don nodded, and briefly clamped his hand on his shoulder. "We're all getting burgers from the Lounge, let Frank know what you want."
With that, he left them by the street to help the others with the aftermath of the arrest. Tom kept silent, then gave Gryder a look. "You alright?" he asked.
"Yep," the young officer said in an exhaled breath.
Adrenaline was still in his system. It caused him to shake a little. He reached into the patrol car's drivers side to pick up the pack of cigarettes he had left there, depositing the remaining rolled blunts from his pocket onto the seat in exchange. The weed would probably be better for his nerves, and he probably would have lit another one if he weren't for his profession.
The old Gryder would, no doubt.
He took one out of the container and lit it. At Tom's silent question, Gryder let out the drag he'd taken. "Helps calm me down after. Don't tell Melina." Smoke rolled from his words.
Tom shrugged. "Not my secret to tell. But you know my stance on it."
"Right. There's a lot riding on me. A lot of secrets."
"Didn't say I didn't understand," Tom said. He motioned for Gryder to walk with him. "We all deal differently. Just don't cross the line. You know."
They made their way down the street towards the rental they used as a base to help pack up all the equipment. Tom waited patiently beside him as he finished the cigarette. He stood there by the open front door, watching officers carry boxes of wires and devices. He didn't say anything. Each time Gryder assumed a new character for a case, a tiny part of him disappeared.
The twenty-five-year-old didn't know it yet, but he'd eventually figure it out when the stress wore him down. He was living a double life, and the line that separated actual truth from his work would be a constant blur. It was just the beginning of his undercover career. Tom knew what awaited. It was going to be rough for him. And on his and Melina's marriage. The good news was he could always switch departments, actually acquiring a desk to push papers like he had been told to tell everyone.
But that wasn't nearly as fulfilling as fieldwork in general.
When he had finished, Gryder followed Tom inside and they joined in the process of packing up. When their lunch arrived later, they took a well-deserved break on the front porch. The house was more or less cleared away and cleaned. Now it was transporting all of their surveillance essentials back to the station and paying the owner of the rental for allowing them to use the property.
"When the initial paperwork is done, go home," Tom said in between bites of his sandwich. "Get your statement about today's raid down while it's fresh, then take the rest of the day. Spend time with your family."
Gryder's eyebrow twitched as he chewed, then said, "Are you sure? I'd feel like I wasn't doing my job."
"You already did, kid." Tom chuckled. The old man picked a thick onion slice from his burger and put it in the bag beside him. "The paperwork is just the legal stuff, anyone with a badge could turn it all in after the official statement is taken. Let me worry about it, as your handler. Take care of yourself."
Gryder took a deep breath through his nose as he finished his sandwich.
It was a relief. Stress had been heavily laden upon him. He was blessed to have someone in his corner who understood. His handlers were the only ones he could confide in officially. According to official public records, he was not affiliated with any law enforcement agency. It was vital in case a criminal with connections were to run a search; it kept his identity and his family, in turn, safe.
"Thank you" was all he could say. The simple statement as he looked him in the eye was enough to convey his gratitude.
Tom nodded. "Say hello to my granddaughter and grandkids for me too."
"Will do."
Melina let out a long breath.
Slowly standing up from the couch with a hand on a sleeping Owen's head, she laid his head down softly on the cushion. The only noise was the cartoons on the television, which had lulled him into a nap just after their lunch.
After covering him with a blanket, she checked on Briella. The child was on the blanket she had laid out for her. Both were sound asleep.
Their mother allowed herself a victory sigh.
Now she could get some housework done before Gryder came home. It was almost summer. The heat always aided her in getting her children to nap. A few hours in the pool and lunch and they were ready without complaints.
It wasn't long before she had wiped down most of the kitchen except for mopping. She hated mopping the floors. She couldn't venture into the living room to pick up toys and vacuum until both children were awake. Instead, she crept around the house dusting where she could reach, hoping her cleaning noises wouldn't wake anyone.
As she dusted the living room blinds, she found herself daydreaming. Although what had happened in her third pregnancy, she knew she wanted another baby. No doubt Gryder did as well. Sweet images the children and husband playing in the living room ran through her mind. Genetics had been kind to them; Owen and Briella were born healthy and still were. There was a balanced mix of Melina and Gryder in them both. Who would their third child have resembled the most?
There was still time. The young parents were fertile. They could still have more.
The sound of a car door shutting broke through to grab her attention. Gryder's blue truck was now beside her vehicle in the drive. Her eyes darted to the man now striding up to the house.
She set the duster down and hurried to the door to meet him, as well as to keep him quiet for their children's sake. And hers, if she was honest. He was now dressed in the tan slacks and blue button up that he usually went to work in, the black backpack slung over one shoulder.
"Hey," she quietly addressed him. She kept her voice low once she had the door open. She put a finger to her lips and mouthed, 'they are sleeping' before murmuring, "Is everything ok?"
He nodded and gave her a quick kiss on the mouth. "Yea, the supervisors let everyone leave a few hours early."
"Really?"
"Yea, there's been a lot of paperwork recently. A lot of cases. They can't give too much overtime."
Melina crossed her arms and watched him shut the door with careful consideration, glancing towards the sleeping babes as he did so. "So. Does that mean you're office-free until Monday?" she softly asked. Her lips slid towards a smile with expectation, her gaze falling to the rest of his face before returning to his green eyes.
He smiled in return. His was voice a little thick. "That's exactly what it means."
He set his backpack on a chair. A large step in her direction brought him close. His arms slid around her waist, his hands feeling her familiar body. They settled on the space above her ass, his fingers giving a gentle squeeze. "Your day seems calm so far."
Shaking her head, Melina let her forehead tilt until it touched his chest. "Oh if you only knew. Owen is such a hyper kid. He gets Bri riled up too and then they're both screaming. It's all I can do to get them like this." She gestured towards the makeshift bed the couch was at the moment. She looked up at him. "How was your day?" She inquired.
It was such a simple question. So innocent. Yet the most difficult to avoid without deception. A groan threatened to shake loose from deep within Gryder's tired chest.
An exhale hissed from between his lips. He pulled away from her and started for the kitchen. "It went," he monotoned.
"It was a bad day, huh." The corners of his wife's eyes crinkled with a grimace. When he stopped at the counter, she walked passed him to stand in front of the sink. The side yard stared back at her through the short window curtains.
"Not bad. It was long. Full of nothing but files. Just so much shit," he replied. He leaned his elbows on the sparkling surface to look at her, sighing again as he did. His wife knew nothing, thinking that he sat at a desk all day, without worry of danger. It made him feel guilty.
She turned her body from the window. "Like what?"
He tilted his head. "Resisting arrest, for example. They dig themselves a deeper hole. More charges mean more paperwork," he said.
"I can't believe people are so stupid."
"Well, you and I both know how that goes." He chuckled, remembering a certain time in both of their lives before they really knew each other. Back when his old mentor was still alive.
She glared at him, but her lips were betraying her with the beginnings of a grin which she fought to hide. "Don't bring it up."
"I wasn't gonna."
"Mhm."
Melina saw the play in his expression. There was something heavy in his eyes as he gazed at her. He motioned for her with a nod of his head. Before either of them could say anything further, the patter of feet increased in volume. They knew that someone had awakened.
"Daddy," Owen mumbled. He looked up, his hair matted on one side from lying on it. His face lit up with a mellow smile.
Gryder turned around at the sound of his voice. He bent down and picked him up with an exaggerated groan. He used an upbeat tone. "Hey, buddy. How was the nap?"
"You're home," Owen said instead. It was a good surprise. One that Gryder really never got a chance to provide for his children.
"That's right. I wanted to come home early so we can have some fun." He glanced at Melina.
Little eyes widened with excitement. "Really! Can we go outside-"
Melina rushed forward in an effort to keep him quiet so Brielle could sleep longer. Her words were rushed, almost hissed. "Owen, use your whisper voice."
Gryder pursed his lips with his son's loud, excited shout in his ears. "Yea, we can go outside," he said in a quiet voice to calm Owen down. "Maybe we can convince your mom to help us give the yard a drink of water."
Narrowing her eyes, she put a hand on her hip. She scowled, but it slowly turned to another knowing grin. He was up to something. And knowing him, she'd probably have to clean up in their wake. "You mean a reason to get out the garden sprinkler?"
"Maybe. It's pretty hot out there today." He set Owen's feet on the hardwood and told him, "Go change into your swim trunks and I'll set up the sprinkler."
Melina leaned her backside against the wall and closed her eyes while Owen shouted with more excitement. The rest of the day he would spend with his father. He inadvertently woke up his sister in his rush up the stairs. "Great, there goes a quiet afternoon," she huffed. The attitude was short-lived, however.
Gryder tsked at her for her statement, tilting her chin up with a finger to force her to look him in the eye. "You girls suit up and meet us outside in ten." He kissed her cheek when her lips broke into an open mouth smile.
"I love you," she drawled. Whenever she presented with a bad attitude, he would somehow manage to turn it around before it got out of hand. This far into their marriage and he was fluent in Melina language.
"Yea, I know."