"Gil." Jessica plastered a pleasant smile on her face as she sailed into the living room. Regal as a queen. Or a mama bear about to shred the predator threatening one of her cubs. Gil had a feeling he was the predator she longed to tear into. "I'd say it's a pleasure to see you but given how you just arrested my son..."

"Jessica, I had no choice." Gil took his life into his hands as he pushed to his feet and walked towards her. "My orders came from the top. I had no choice but to arrest him. As of this moment, he's our prime suspect."

Jessica, predictably, scoffed.

She didn't slap him, though.

She didn't let him off the hook, either.

"You had no choice but to bust down his door and treat him like some common animal?"

"I didn't arrange for SWAT to be there when we went to arrest him." He had to wait for his fury to pass before continuing. It was difficult to think in logical steps through anger. However justified that anger might be. "They were there when we got there and already in process of breaking down the door."

Something he had not been happy about. Fury, a raging flood of it, swept him as he recalled seeing the outer door to Bright's loft open and SWAT lined up in the inner stairwell, ready to kick the front door in and rush him.

"What?" Her eyes glittered with a mixture of anger and concern. "On whose order was that permission given?"

"I can't answer that." He wished he could. "All I know is it came from the top."

One dark brow arched. "From the top?"

Gil nodded.

"It came directly from the commissioner's office."

Jessica's mouth dropped open. If not for the seriousness of the situation, Gil might have teased her about it. She recovered quickly. A testament to her strength.

"The order came from the police commissioner?"

Gil didn't want to believe the order to bring Bright in came directly from the commissioner but he had no proof it hadn't. All he could say was, "If not from him then from someone in his inner circle."

He had a few good guesses there about who in the commissioner's inner circle the order might have come from. He just couldn't prove that either.

Not yet, anyway.

Soon, though.

He'd find out who it was and make them pay for the trauma they inflicted on Bright.

"Nicholas is behind this, isn't he?"

Gil wished he could tell her no.

He did.

More than anything he wanted to tell her everything was going to turn out alright, he'd fix things.

He couldn't.

Gil wasn't sure how to go about setting things right. Not given the enemy they were dealing with. Every move was under scrutiny. One misstep could see any of them end up on a slab in the morgue.

If their bodies were even found.

That's why he needed the kid to not do what he typically did: run off on his own.

They had no idea how many assassins Endicott had on his payroll.

They didn't have a clue how far or deep his reach went. If it extended to Washington like Sorcha suggested earlier when she told him, "I think Malcolm's firing had a bit of a helping hand."

It wasn't impossible for him to believe that.

It never sat well with him, the kid's ousting from the bureau. It seemed to much of a coincidence that it came at the exact same time Carter Berkhead started repeating The Quartet killings. Almost as if someone was pulling strings from behind the scenes to make sure Malcolm resumed seeing his father.

He could even see Doctor Whitly calling in such a favor in return for his continued silence about Sophie Sanders. Bright's firing from the FBI ensured he'd have to return home to New York. Returning home meant resuming visiting him. And that, Gil knew, was the only thing that mattered to Martin Whitly.

"Gil?"

"Yes." He let his fingers brush against hers. The most he could allow himself until things with Nicholas Endicott had been resolved. Their kiss lingered in his mind. Fed his determination to make things right before thinking about taking things any further with Jessica. "That's why Malcolm can't go off on his own. Not with everything going on."

"Malcolm won't be alone, Gil," a voice spoke up. "I'm here to make sure he doesn't do anything stupid, remember?"

Gil turned a bemused look on the woman framed in the doorway. "He doesn't need you going off to do something stupid for him, either."

"As if he'd let me go alone."

That's what concerned him.

"Bright doesn't need you enabling him."

"I've been enabling him for years." Sorcha tossed her shoulder as she headed for the couch. "That's part of the problem."

"It's something you need to work on, kiddo."

"I'm going to help Malcolm however I can, Gil." Determination toughened her voice. "I'm not letting him get sent to prison or Claremont."

"Malcolm cannot leave this house," Jessica stated in a voice like velvet steel. "He knows that."

"He knows it," Gil told her, "but he won't listen."

Like always, he added silently.

"He's wearing an ankle monitor…"

"That he learned how to remove while training with the Marshal Service during his stint at Glynco."

Gil kept his eyes on Sorcha's. Waiting for a twitch or a blink that'd give away that removing the monitor was what the kid planned to do.

Her eyes were huge, dark, unreadable.

Face glacier calm.

The perfect poker face.

He should have expected it from her, though. Loyalty and support. They were a religion with this woman. She had been the kid's rock since they were eighteen. His unwavering line of support. No matter what problems were between them she'd stand by him.

Offer him the comfort he needed while he grieved for Eve Blanchard.

Help him with figuring out how he got framed for the murder of Eddie.

Work with him to figure out Endicott's endgame and put a stop to it. To him.

It not only made her the kid's strongest ally but also his. Her family connections could help him in finding out how deep Endicott was in the pockets of the commissioners office.

"Malcolm doesn't have the tools necessary to remove said ankle monitor."

Gil slanted a look at her.

"You snuck his FBI bag out of his loft in your purse."

"Maybe I did." Her shoulders lifted into a shrug. "And maybe I didn't."

"Plausible deniability doesn't apply here, kiddo."

"The way I see it?" A slight smirk twisted her lips. "I'm neither confirming nor denying I snuck his FBI bag here."

"I checked the trunk in front of his bed after you went into the bathroom to get his shaving kit." He folded his arms across his chest. "The bag was not there."

"So, I grabbed it." Sorcha took a seat on the couch. "Given what's going on, I felt it a good idea to bring it to him."

"His service revolver is in it?"

"I won't confirm what's in the bag, Gil. That," she said as Jessica let out a small distressed sound, "you will need to ask him about."

"When and if he decides to talk to me."

"It's the 90s all over again." Jessica made for the sideboard. "At least his father languishes in a prison cell." She let out a small sigh. "Finally."

"Malcolm just needs time to process everything."

"We should call Gabrielle." Jessica reached for a decanter. "Make an appointment for him to see her since he will not make one on his own."

"I already made one."

Jessica glanced at Sorcha over her shoulder. "You already made one?"

"Yes, I did." Sorcha tucked her hair behind her ears. "He'll deny it but he's in crisis and needs proper counseling to help him."

"You think he's in crisis?" Jessica's expression was pained.

"His girlfriend has been murdered and he's been framed for the murder of her killer." Sorcha set her iPad on the coffee table. "Beyond that, his greatest fear has come to life as the man he idolizes and looks upon as a mentor is the one who arrested him on suspicion of that murder."

Guilt formed a lead ball in Gil's belly. If he had things to do all over again, he'd have found some way to let Bright know what was going on.

Tell him he believed him.

Trusted him.

He didn't have that option, though. He hadn't been given that choice or chance.

"I had no choice but to arrest him," he repeated as he moved to take a seat in one of the chairs. "My orders were clear."

"I know that, you know that, and deep down, Malcolm knows that." Sorcha accepted the tumbler Jessica handed her with a nod. "However, knowing is also wrapped up in the importance of the facts." She took a small sip of the amber liquid. It was one of the few times Gil ever saw her drink alcohol. Given the situation, he couldn't fault her need for it. It had been a hard night for all of them. "What he knows is that his team busted down his door, cuffed him, took him to central booking, put an ankle monitor on him, and essentially don't believe him when he says he didn't do it."

Gil shook his head at Jessica's offer of a drink. As much as he'd love a shot of liquid courage at that moment, it wouldn't mesh well with the pot of stale coffee he consumed while trying to figure a way to get Bright out of the mess he was in.

"I know he didn't do it."

"You need to tell him that." Sorcha rest the glass on her knee. "He needs to know you believe him. That you trust him."

"I will tell him that once I know what we are up against." Gil blew out a breath and sat forward. "That's why I'm here. I need your help."

"My help?" One eyebrow winged up. "With what?"

"Finding out who inside the commissioner's office might be on Endicott's payroll."

Sorcha's made a small, speculative sound deep in her throat.

"Uncle Hoyt'd be able to help you with that," she said. "He still has many friends in the commissioners office." She took another sip of her drink before setting it on the table beside her iPad. "You should call him."

"I can't contact him myself." At her quizzical look, he explained. "It'd raise too much suspicion if I reached out to the former deputy commissioner."

"Good point." She blew out a heavy breath. "I'll call him on Uncle Jamie's phone and ask if he knows anyone in the commissioner's office who could be in Endicott's employ."

"Your uncle gave you his cell phone?" He didn't know why he was surprised but he was. "What else did he give you?"

Because he didn't believe for one minute that was the only thing Lieutenant Jamie Brannigan gave his niece.

"He also gave me my dad's service revolver and a stern lecture about obeying you."

"He gave your dad's service revolver to you?"

Unease slithered into Gil's belly. Brannigan wouldn't have done that if he wasn't worried about his niece's safety.

"Yes, he did." Sorcha sat back on the couch with a sigh. "He said that someone willing to hire an assassin to kill Eve Blanchard won't have any problem whatsoever in taking out whoever else he feels is a threat."

And his niece could be viewed as a threat given her connections with the department.

"You have your carry permit with you?"

"Always."

"Gil." Jessica's soft warble got him to look at her. "You don't really think Nicholas could send someone to kill us, do you?"

He pushed to his feet and moved to her. "I think Nicholas Endicott is willing to do anything at this point." He set his hands on her shoulders. "Especially if it achieves whatever he has planned."

"My god…"

"I'll fix this, Jessica." Somehow, some way. "I promise."

She lifted wide, fearful eyes to his. "Just be careful, Gil."

He gave her shoulders a reassuring squeeze before stepping back. "I'll be careful." He looked over at Sorcha. "Stay close to Bright."

"I plan to be his shadow."

That's what worried him. Gil made a mental note to call Lieutenant Brannigan once he got home. Somebody needed to keep an eye on the kids and there was nobody he could think better suited for the job than her uncle.

A/N: Hello, all! Hope this finds you well!

I want to send a special thank you to Rookblonkorules and chelsnichole12 for their lovely reviews!