Eek! Well, this took a LOT longer than I anticipated. I'm so sorry about that. Life got in the way, as it tends to do, but also this chapter killed me. It's over 9000 words and that seems to be too big for my brain to manage. Either way, here it is if any of you all are still reading it. Lots of love, L
Crimson Lane - Chapter 11 - The Traitor
Morning in the city was a deranged cocktail of senses to Kylo: jackhammers pounding, sirens screaming, crying babies, all of it stewing in a pot of pollution and garbage.
He stalked forward, head down with his hands stuffed into his pockets, his path direct; determined. People passed him, bumping against his body while fiddling on their phones, careless and self-absorbed, ignorant of how every touch made him stiffen; hyper-aware.
The product of someone who'd always had to watch their back. And never more so than right now.
Normally, if he had to walk down the street, he did so with a pair of earphones in, tuning out the world around him.
But today, there was no music. He needed to be aware.
The noise of the city dulled into the background, the jolting disarray of sound overwhelmed by a subtle roar, breathless and quiet. Like the wind before a train cuts through a subway tunnel.
Everything fell silent but the roar of his inner monologue: You were the one who chose this path, you, a grovelling, terrified teenager.
And now his road cut deep, a chasm with no escape. He'd tried to claw his way out of it many times, but Snoke had always been one step ahead of the game.
Not any more.
Two weeks ago, Kylo Ren waited in Snoke's office, eyes downcast, hands in pocket, toying nervously with a sleek black cylindrical shaped UBS Drive in his pocket.
"You wanted to see me?"
"Be patient!" Snoke scolded him, hungrily clicking on his mouse, the pink flesh of his tongue coasting across his lips.
"You said it was urgent."
Snoke glared at him, lips moving, silent and angry.
"Were you on my computer before?"
"No," Kylo said flatly.
"My settings have changed." He clicked his mouse in loud tapping motions, annoyed. "That bastard San Tekka has been leaking info to the press again. I thought you were taking care of it."
"I am. Hux and I have almost tracked him down. We're close."
"So you keep saying."
Snoke clicked on the mouse a few more times, fascinated with whatever was on his screen. "For ex-security, he seems to know a lot about our operation."
The hairs on the back of Kylo's neck prickled unsettlingly. "Lor San Tekka may have just been a security guard, but he had the means to access a lot of information."
Snoke was silent.
Watchful.
Kylo pulled at the collar of his shirt, feeling as if he were being choked.
"Do you think he's getting his info from someone else?" Kylo asked.
"Possibly." Snoke shrugged. "What do you think?"
"Unlikely—" he began, then smirked, thinking of a better response, "How much do you trust Hux?"
Snoke's shoulders moved, a laugh. Kylo was almost ready to breathe a sigh of relief when his boss's eyes narrowed at him as they flicked between the monitor and him.
"You little fucker!"
Kylo paled, throat closing.
"Did you think I wouldn't see this?"
Snoke spun his laptop around. The footage was dark and the sound unclear, but there was a clear outline of men wearing black balaclavas. In the middle of the room was an elderly man, blabbering incoherently.
The tallest of the masked assailants took a step towards him and, with lightning speed, kicked him in the loin. The audio bled into weeping screams and Kylo stepped back, turning away. It always made him sick to watch himself work.
"Did I tell you to look away?"
Kylo straightened, his pulse pounding at the base of his neck. "I don't see what the problem is. You got your money."
"You call that a Mawashi Geri? You are off-balance. What am I paying you for if you can't even deliver a simple roundhouse kick?"
"We got the money," Kylo stressed the point through gritted teeth, balling his fists behind his back.
Snoke rolled his eyes as his lips curled into a sneer.
"It's not just about the money, son. These vipers need to learn that the First Order owns them. Did he need to go to a hospital?"
No, they had left him bleeding and screaming on the floor. In pain, but not seriously injured.
A failure, in Snoke's eyes.
"Just what I thought. I have no use for spineless worms who can't follow orders."
Kylo nodded, eyes downcast. "Is that all?"
"No." Snoke stood, his golden robe sweeping around his body in a gesture of grandeur. He glided towards Kylo, slow and smooth as a snake slithers through the grass.
"I have a question for you," he whispered. "Blonde or brunette?"
"Huh?" Kylo asked, taken aback at the change in conversation.
"What do you like to fuck, blondes or brunettes?"
"I…" he stammered. Some part of him still felt ashamed that he used the girls here. It was— It was not the way he saw his future playing out.
"Which one—" Snoke's voice rose.
"Brunette."
"Ha!" Snoke purred. "Interesting. You know, I found a pretty little piece of flesh the other day. Phasma's going to bring her in. She has no family, is desperate for cash, young. You will like her. Brunette."
"They all do the same job once the lights are off," Kylo said dryly.
Snoke chuckled to himself, his bony fingers reaching out and squeezing Kylo's shoulder. "Well, that's true. I'll book her in for you. Monday, July 2. Kanjiklub are late with their payment again. I need you to show Tasu Leech we mean business. Smash his kneecap, I don't care which one. You can have this girl when you're finished… to unwind."
"Fine," Kylo grumbled. "Bring her in."
"Oh, I will," he hissed, those icy eyes filling Kylo with a chill that ran straight to his core.
Bring her in.
Those three fateful words. Kylo had said them just to shut Snoke up. But his boss had planned this from the beginning, setting the trap, using Rey as the bait. The question was why, now, after all this time, was Snoke so focused on him? Was it a power play, a lesson to bring him into line, or something bigger and far more dangerous?
And Rey.
Snoke had dragged her into this shit-show. Manipulated and lured her into thinking she could pay off her debt—the one he had forced on her.
Kylo stormed past a metal bin anchored to a pole, battered and dented from years of misuse.
Rey.
He kicked it as hard as he could. The metal crash rang out, scattering loose pieces of rubbish on the ground.
He had to keep Snoke away from her, and time was running out.
Kylo kicked the bin again, this time it dislodged from its anchor, and crashed onto the sidewalk, almost taking out a middle-aged couple in the process. They exchanged knowing looks at each other and mouthed the word 'drugs'.
If only it was drugs. Then he would have an excuse for being the way he was. Violent. Unbalanced.
He charged down the street, fixated on the passing pavement beneath his feet until he was standing in front of a faded red door.
Kylo hammered on it.
No answer.
Again.
He stopped, knuckles stinging, from the other side there was the sound of rattling keys and... one, two, three: the locks snapped open. The handle turned and the door creaked open, just enough.
A gaunt man with short-cropped white hair, a neat beard and pale blue eyes peered out.
Kylo pushed the door open with his boot and Lor San Tekka took an unsteady step back.
"Look how old you've become."
"Something far worse has happened to you," Lor replied.
Kylo straightened his spine, glowering. "You know why I'm here."
"Take a seat."
Rey crossed her arms, gnawing at the inside of her mouth like she was chewing on a bone.
This was a bad idea.
A very bad Idea.
"Come on, Rey. I don't bite," Poe said, flashing his dazzling white teeth at her.
She studied him warily, noting the way he stood between her and the exit; one hand clutching his briefcase, the other inviting her to sit. Ridiculous smile, glued in place. No doubt he tried to look welcoming, but it was too eager, like she was being lured into a trap.
You could still leave. She tried to stay calm. Just turn around and disappear forever.
Poe must have sensed her hesitation, because he sat down with a lazy thump, kicking his feet up on the chair opposite, and casually began reading the menu with a bored expression.
Eventually, Rey took a measured breath and lowered her body slowly into the booth as Poe watched her subtly, peering out beneath his thick brows. At the far end of the room, a tray crashed to the floor and the sound of breaking glass shattered around her. She jumped, skittery as a wild deer. Heart pounding.
"Here." Poe pushed the menu towards her, his voice placating. "Order whatever you want. My work's paying."
She supposed she could stay for a bite to eat if he was paying. After all, Rey looked around at the plush velvet seats, vase centrepieces with explosions of colour… and then there were those rich aromas wafting from the kitchen. She closed her eyes and inhaled.
A restaurant meal. When would she be lucky enough to score one of those again?
"Okay," she sighed and opened the menu, running her finger down the line of prices.
$29, $35, $32…
Ah. There it was.
"I'll have that one." She tapped her finger against the menu.
"The lobster?" Poe squinted at his own menu, jaw-dropping. "It's sixty-five dollars!"
"Yes, that's the one." She nodded decisively. "I've not tried it before."
He took her menu back and groaned. "Really? You've ordered the most expensive thing on the menu."
"Did I?" Rey teased, a picture of innocence.
Poe shook his head, mumbling something about a thirty-dollar limit. It was a small victory, but it was sweet enough.
Once the orders were taken, Poe pulled out a dog-eared file and whacked it on the table.
"Don't you use computers at the Hosnian Herald?" she asked.
"Cute. If you want to be a reporter sweetheart, you watch and learn."
Rey rolled her eyes, but watched anyway, because hell yes, she wanted to be a reporter.
Poe placed a notepad filled with messy shorthand strokes on the table, followed by a dictaphone.
"I thought you said you left that back at the office?"
"Did I?"
Rey scowled at him, but that may have been because otherwise she might have smiled. Bloody reporters!
"Right, let's get started." Poe bypassed the notepad and pressed 'record' on the dictaphone.
"So, Rey," he said, locking his black coffee-coloured eyes on her. "How's life in the sex industry?"
Shit! She shot her hand to turn off the recording device.
"You can't record that!"
"For a girl who's trying to protect her secrets, you're not very obliging."
"What makes you think I'm trying to hide anything?"
"Oh, in that case, I'll call Finn back and he can take notes. Sorry, my bad."
Rey's mouth turned to ash, fingernails pushing into her forearms, leaving half-moon pressure marks on her skin. She was stuffed, and could only watch in horror as Poe unlocked his phone, flicking through his contact list.
"Wait!"
Breathe, Rey! The words were her own, but they had mixed with the gravelly undercurrent of her former Sensei, Master Skywalker. The memory swept her away to a quiet hall with bright, sunlit windows and polished wooden floors.
"What do you see?" Master Skywalker asked, his voice filtering through her meditation, guiding her.
"The man in black," she whispered. Those quiet moments of self-reflection always wrenched her back to that cesspit of a home, to the night she was attacked. She could never stop seeing him.
"You see your enemy?" his voice was calm, a safe harbour in stormy seas.
"Yes."
"Never show weakness before your enemy. Stand strong."
And like that, she was back, faced with this smiling, ambitious reporter who thought he could bully her into exposing her story.
She stiffened, lifting her eyebrows and meeting his eyes with a level-headed coldness.
"Are you blackmailing me, Poe Dameron?"
"Blackmail?" Poe looked affronted. "What!? No!"
"So, what if I refuse to tell you anything?"
"Then you refuse. There's not much I can do about it."
"You won't tell Finn what I'm doing?"
Poe sighed. "Look, I don't want your story, Rey. I have no wish to expose you or call you out. I just want you to tell me everything you know about Snoke.
Alexander Snoke. Rey shivered. Even the thought of that deceptively frail, hulking creep made her want to disappear forever. "I don't know anything about Snoke."
Poe nodded, as though he expected as much. Untying the document wallet before of him, he opened the flap and pulled out a stack of newspaper clippings.
"Let me enlighten you then."
Terror bombing kills 120
First Order scores multi-million dollar government security contract
Palpatine's popularity soars amidst vote of no confidence
Resistance battered into submission, Organa-Solo resigns
"And my personal favourite."
Reporter targeted in Yavin car bomb
"Your boss, Alexander Snoke, is behind every single one of these stories."
Rey sifted through the articles as Poe continued to bring more out, scattering them on the table in a messy collage: reports of beatings, stabbings, robbery, blackmail… the list seemed endless.
"To the public, he is the revered CEO of the First Order. Fortune magnet. But behind the scenes, he is manipulating the government and crushing anyone who gets in his way."
"What's his endgame then?" Rey flicked through the pages, amazed at how much Poe had actually pegged against him.
"Power." Poe twisted his cup of water on the table, watching the way the water stayed still regardless. "By bombing the Resistance, he created a sense of panic. Meanwhile, he has a few quiet words to his mate Palpatine, and what do you know? The First Order scores a huge government contract, providing security and weapons to the police force. Suddenly the Imperial government's rigid military rule starts to look like a pretty good idea, and since Palpatine owes him a couple favours he can start to cash in and make things go the way he wants on a larger scale."
"That seems like a bit of a far stretch for a guy who runs a brothel."
"A brothel and a multi-billion-dollar company. Anyway, the brothel is just a front, essentially; plus, he likes it. The guy's a complete sexual deviant."
Rey thought back to his special cupboard, the way he had filmed her. Poe sure as hell wasn't wrong about that.
"From Crimson Lane he does all the illegal stuff because he wouldn't be caught dead doing that at the First Order; it's under a lot more scrutiny. Also, he can't fund any underhanded deals through First Order books, so that's where the loans and drugs come into play. He preys on junkies and anyone else in desperate positions. He finds their weak spot and breaks them through blackmail, loans, threats, addiction, whatever he can to fund his operation."
Rey searched through the clippings, her expression hollow. It was so much bigger than she ever thought.
And was this what Kylo Ren was part of? She couldn't believe it. She wouldn't.
But…
And there was a but. A brutal threatening fact that lurked in the shadow of her mind.
Her hand strayed across the Resistance bombing articles, Senator Leia Organa-Solo had stepped down after they had lost so many lives, feeling somehow responsible.
She picked up the largest article on the Resistance attack:
Terror bomb devastates. Beneath the headline was a photograph of broken bodies beneath white sheets that were smeared with blood. From beneath one of them was a child's hand outstretched, charred and bloody. Lifeless. She had seen images of that hand on the television news that day. It had stayed with her long after.
She read beneath the image.
There are fears up to 120 are dead today after a mysterious bomb blast crushed Resistance headquarters in the early hours of the morning.
A spokesperson for the Police first response team said the perpetrators designed the bomb to cause maximum damage.
The Imperial government has denied any involvement and has condemned the attack as "despicable".
It looks to be the end of an already embattled Resistance party after they suffered a landslide defeat in the last election.
Rey glued her eyes to the story, hand trembling.
Did Rose know she was working for the man responsible for her sister's death? Did any of them?
"How can you be sure that Snoke is behind all of this?"
Poe lowered his head and whispered, "I have a source."
Rey nodded, furrowing her brow. There was a rising feeling of anxiety from deep within. Poe pressed on, leaning forward.
"I promise you, once we're finished with this story, Snoke will be done. We'll have him on the Resistance bombing and so much more. Rey—"
He said her name with a breath of desperation, as though he had come to the point where he would plead his case, but he held back.
Rey gnawed at her fingernails, mind racing. If Snoke was behind all this, then did it mean Kylo was the one inflicting the damage?
"We need to get him, Rey. This bastard never gets his own hands dirty. He gets his army of trained mercenaries to do it for him — he calls them his Knights."
She nodded, face ashen, the newspaper report on the Resistance bombing trembling in her shaking hands. Her eyes, glued on the pictures of covered bodies. The sound of that explosion, rippling through her brain. The stench, smouldering rubble, singed flesh, sirens, screams, despair. She hadn't even there, walking two blocks away, but it was close enough.
"What do you know about the Knights?" she asked.
"There are nine of them, headed up by the guy only known as Kylo Ren." Poe pried the article from her fingers and slipped it back inside his folder. "No one knows who he is or what he looks like, but from what I understand, he comes around the brothel from time to time—"
Her lungs were burning. Why couldn't she breathe?
Poe paused, eyes narrowing in on her. "Rey, do you know who he is?"
She opened her mouth, closed it again and looked away.
"This is important Rey. If you can identify him—"
"No," she snapped, shaking her head. "I don't know who it is. I've just heard his name mentioned, that's all."
Poe exhaled, his demeanour slumping into the chair. "That's a shame. Well, anyway, if you come across that guy, Rey, you run and don't look back."
She nodded.
"I'm sorry," she murmured and meant it. Sorry that she had lied. That even while she understood Kylo was one of the "bad" guys, deep down she wasn't ready to believe the worst of him. Perhaps, just perhaps, he was stuck, like she was.
But if Kylo was involved in that bombing, she couldn't…
She swallowed. Her body was prickling with feverous heat, like the temperature rise before throwing up.
"Do you think he…" She took a drink of water, trying to hide the way she couldn't stop shaking. "Do you think Kylo Ren was behind the bombing?"
Poe stared at her for a beat.
Too long.
"No. Anything with pyrotechnics is Armitage's work. Red-headed English guy. A snivelling rat. You'll know him when you see him. Total psycho. Loves his work."
Rey startled as the waiter slid their meals in front of them without a word. Rey ignored it, even though her stomach was rumbling and the rich smell of the lobster with white sauce was wafting before her.
"If you've got a source, why do you need me?"
"Because I don't know how much longer I will have him."
Poe cut into the tender flesh of his steak. The juices bled onto the plate, drowning the rest of his food in red.
"A guy named Lor San Tekka got in touch with me a month ago. He's been feeding me information on Snoke. He used to work for him until last year as a security guard. He quit after the attack. His wife, Marianne, worked for Senator Organa. She was one of the first ones found in the wreckage that day, or at least, they found parts of her."
Rey shivered, nausea growing in her gut.
"Why on earth would you tell me who your source is?" Rey asked, horrified. She had learnt that much in the university; never, ever reveal your sources.
"I'm telling you because I need you to listen out for me. If you hear anything that sounds like they will make a move on San Tekka, I need you to tell me," Poe said in a hushed voice. "The guy has a USB drive with enough dirt to take down Snoke and the First Order once and for all. But I don't know…" He dragged a hand down his face, all of his suave arrogance disappearing in the movement.
"I have a bad feeling about it, Rey. Like it's all too easy. This San Tekka guy's got a target on his back. He's the only one with the motive to take down Snoke. It won't take them long to figure out he's the leak... if they haven't already."
Rey thought about it. Something wasn't right here, and she had good instincts about these things.
"So, you have him on the Resistance bombing?" she asked.
"That and so much more, I mean, this last Tuesday, Tasu Leech, who heads up the Kanjiklub crime family, was left beaten within an inch of his life. That was Kylo Ren's work, according to my source."
Tuesday. Rey felt the blood rushing from her face. Their first night together.
"What else do you have on Kylo Ren?" God, she wished her voice would stop shaking.
"We have everything, Rey. Everything he's been involved in over the last ten years up until last week. Well, everything except his true identity."
Rey played with her food, quiet and thoughtful. There were so many mixed emotions fighting within her. And then a thought struck her.
"If San Tekka was just a security guard who quit his job over a year ago, how does he have access to all of this? I mean, these are some of Snoke's biggest secrets. That doesn't make any sense to me."
"What are you thinking?"
"Well, wouldn't it indicate there was another source? One that still works for Snoke really closely. Perhaps Lor isn't your primary source. You said his wife was murdered in the attack, but what if he was just a front-man, who was being fed information from the real source, so he or she can stay in a position of trust."
Poe gawked and then smiled appreciatively. "Well, I'll be damned, Rey. Finn said you were brilliant."
"I'm far from brilliant—" Blighted, more like.
But Poe ignored her. "Tell you what. You help me crack this case and there will be a job for you at the end of all this."
"What, as your coffee assistant?" she scoffed.
"As a reporter, if that's what you want? You ask the right questions, Rey, and you can obviously write since Finn said your first year was on a scholarship. And you've got sass. I like that."
Rey considered his offer. What if, after all of this, she could still have a future… How dangerous could it be?
"You're thinking about it." Poe leaned in with a hungry smile. "Maybe once this story is done, I could even give you a joint byline with Finn."
A byline. Her jaw dropped, eyes smiling. Could it happen? She almost felt like crying at the possibility.
"Poe, I—"
"Don't thank me yet. Because there's one more thing I need from you."
Kylo Ren squeezed into the ornate dining chair, covered in floral upholstery. The cushion of the seat was stained yellow and every time he moved it creaked, threatening imminent collapse.
Lor San Tekka's late sister's townhouse was a time capsule of 1970s decor, vomited up into the modern day. Vintage brown paper lined the walls and floral drapes with dusty sheer curtains clothed the windows. There were layers of dust upon every surface and it stunk of potpourri.
Next to the front door, a stoic grandfather clock stood guard, passing time with resonant beats. It was near midday. Six hours before he would be with Rey. The thought of it made his throat dry, senses alert.
She had left things … hopeful.
But he couldn't think of her now.
Kylo sat alone at a compact dining table with two regency chairs.
The silence of the lounge room forced Kylo to listen to the old man groaning with pain, accompanied by the sound of an erratic flow of urine splashing into the basin with moans of relief.
Fuck old age. He never wanted to be old and weak. Luckily, he figured his time would come sooner rather than later—
The toilet flushed and Lor battled to return down the hall, face wincing with every step he took towards the small dining area.
Lor smiled weakly. He'd withered into a shell of a man, with dark circles beneath his eyes, bones protruding against stretched white skin, his hair missing in clumps. And then there was that smell, hidden beneath the layers of potpourri, a stench that hovered like a low cloud blotting out the sun. It was the smell old age, like candle wax and old newspapers; the promise of death. He knew Lor was sick, but he hadn't realised how close he was to the end.
"How have you been?" Kylo asked, ignoring the expressions of pain that fleeted across Lor's face as he sat.
"The doctors say there's not much time left. The cancer has spread too far. Inoperable, apparently. Let this be a warning, young Solo, to get your prostate checked regularly."
Kylo looked out the window, past dust floating in roads of sunlight. He had known Lor his entire life; the guy was his goddamn Godfather. But even in his old age, Lor had been a beacon of strength, both physical and mental.
That had changed after the bomb. After Marianne had died…
"I'm sorry to hear that," Kylo said, refusing to meet his gaze.
"Don't be." Lor poured a cup of tea for them both.
"Is there nothing they can do?"
"Why should they do anything?" Lor stirred his tea, spooning out stray tea leaves. "I have been hanging on here by a thread, Ben. I want to go home, I want to be with my wife."
"Let's get on with this—" Kylo snapped, pulling a USB stick out of his pocket.
Lor smiled, eyes distant. "You know, I still remember the day I met her. Marianne was an intern for the Resistance, and I was First Order security." He laughed. "If looks could kill! Well, let's say I wouldn't be around to talk to you."
Kylo flicked him a fake smile, more focussed on the small cylinder of information that could potentially destroy him and everyone else that worked for Snoke, than Lor's musings of yesteryear.
"She was sharp as a tack, outspoken with a fiery temper. You can only imagine how much grief she gave me."
Kylo nodded, a half smile. He could imagine Marianne putting San Tekka in his place, almost like… he saw her in his mind's eye; hazel eyes, sun-kissed cheeks, dotted with a galaxy of stars…
Lor was still talking, but he had stopped listening, although now the old man's tears fell, simply, without fanfare.: Chronic sadness.
He couldn't imagine that pain. He wouldn't let that happen to him, to Rey. Not that he loved Rey, or even…
He didn't know. But he sure as hell wouldn't let anything happen to her.
"What's on your mind, Ben?"
Kylo straightened his back against the chair, hesitant to ask, but he had to know.
"How did you change her mind about you?"
"I didn't. She fell in love with me despite what I did or the fact I worked for the 'enemy'. She made me a better man."
"You sold out then." Kylo took a sip of his tea, dark eyes flashing up at Lor to check his reaction and was not disappointed,
Lor glowered, cheeks red, the first glimpse of colour on his grey face.
"No, you idiot. She made me want to be better."
"How sweet." Kylo gave him a wry smile.
"Mock all you like. But I know where you came from, before you called yourself Kylo Ren. I know what lies beneath the darkness."
"Anyway." Kylo rolled his eyes, weaving the small cylindrical shaped USB drive between his fingers. "This has all Snoke's correspondence leading up to the Resistance bombing, and plenty of dirt afterwards. You need to get this to Poe tonight. I won't be able to get you another copy, I risked everything just getting this one."
Lor took it from him, appearing to marvel at the size of something so powerful.
"This is it, Lor, this drive has everything we need to take Snoke down."
"Everything?"
"Video footage, photos, emails, for the last five years, the lot. It will ruin him."
"And what about Kylo Ren? Where does he fit in all of this?"
Kylo got up, hands restless as he paced about the room. "I told you, I wasn't involved in the Resistance bombing—but my hands aren't clean." He stopped, meeting Lor's gaze. "I'm not hiding anything. If the First Order is to burn, Kylo Ren will burn with it."
"Ben—" Lor leaned in, as though he would stand, but that bolt of pain showed in his face again and he clearly thought better of it. "You can still…"
"No."
Kylo looked out into the street beyond, face resolute.
"It's time to let the past die. I'm done with all of it. Snoke, the First Order, the Resistance. Everything."
"I still don't understand why you're rushing this through now," Lor said "It was safe when we were just trickling information to the press, pulling back when Snoke got suspicious. If this doesn't go to plan, we're both dead men."
Kylo gazed out the window as cars streamed past, colours muted by the lace curtains. On the footpath, children rode their bikes. People. Peace. Life. It went on, regardless of what happened to him, or Lor.
"It's not negotiable. I need to bring him down by Friday."
"But why—"
"Because!" Kylo snapped. Because if he didn't, how could he keep protecting her from Snoke? No. From Friday, that bastard had cleared her bookings for the rest of the week; apart from the odd session with Hux, the rest he had pencilled in for himself.
Not a fucking chance.
It was the least Kylo could do to make it up to her. For being the one that haunted her nightmares, and terrorised her daydreams. If he couldn't tell her the truth about that night in Jakku, he would at least do this. To free her. To free them both.
"Very well," Lor conceded. "I will get this to Poe tonight. It's time we brought this bastard down once and for all."
Kylo gave him a solemn nod and turned, throat dry, blinking. He worked to clear it, trying to hold back the unsettled feeling bubbling in his gut.
"There's one more thing—" Kylo paused as he took a deep breath, forcing himself to look the old man in the eye. "After tonight, you need to leave. Snoke has a hit on you."
"That old bastard's had a hit on me since I left the First Order."
"But this time—" Kylo clamped his jaw, rolling his lips together. Time was running out for Lor.
"Snoke will send you after me." Lor guessed what he would say. "And Kylo Ren never misses."
Kylo was silent, but his face gave away the truth, it always did.
"Maybe it's time I started missing," said Kylo.
"No." Lor shook his head. "Not this time. If Snoke discovers you're the leak, then any chance we had of taking the First Order down is over. You need to protect your position, play the game. It isn't worth risking everything for—"
"I won't let him find you."
"And if he does? What will you do?"
Kylo stared at him, silent.
"You will need to do it, Ben."
Kylo looked away, eye's glassy.
"You will do it, won't you, Ben?"
Lor reached forward, grasping his hand around Kylo's wrist. His grip was firm, even though his end was coming.
"We have to see this through, Kylo. Who will be next, your father? Your mother? This girl Snoke's toying with in front of you? The bastard will never stop until he's removed everyone you've ever cared about."
Kylo pinched the space between his eyes at the sharp pain that was building there, increasing every day.
"He wants you Kylo. You've always been a prize to him, something he can covet and keep and control. If he can't have you, he will destroy you."
Kylo fingered the keys in his pocket as he nodded a quiet goodbye.
"It's all right, Ben." Lor eventually stood again, grasping his shoulder, breaking him out of his reverie. "Whatever happens tonight, it will be all right."
Kylo moved towards the door, silent and dark, a black shadow disappearing into nothingness. He gripped the front door handle, eyeing the moving hands of the grandfather clock. The noon chimes would sound within the minute. But he had an overwhelming urge to leave before the hour struck. He pulled the door open, just as the sound of the low, ominous toll of the clock chimes followed him out. They were like the strike of a death knell, forcing him to a fate he couldn't escape.
The door closed behind him and the cries of the clock chased him into the daylight again. He keeled over, pushing his hands against his knees, trying to breathe, trying to think.
But all he could hear was the roar, loud and consuming, tearing at him now.
It was a feeling, a warning, that this plan of theirs was all going to hell.
— [FROM HERE KATH]
Poe hesitated, scanning the room before continuing, "If things fall through with Lor—"
She buried her forehead in her hands, dreading what was coming next.
"Rey, this is important. If things fall through with Lor, I need another backup. Someone on the inside who can get close to Snoke and Kylo. Someone who can feed information to us without suspicion."
Rey groaned and pushed her plate away, no longer hungry. "I knew you would ask me this."
"People's lives are on the line."
She raised her voice. "My life is on the line!"
Restaurant patrons froze, forks hovering mid-air to their mouths, looking at her, silent. She slid deeper into her chair, lowering her chin and rubbing her forehead as though she were pushing away a headache.
Poe smirked. "Are you trying to draw attention to us?"
"No," she sulked, poking at the remains on her dinner plate like it were a dead carcass.
After a time, the diners resumed their chatter and returned to their lunch. Rey breathed a sigh of relief, careful not to draw more attention to them. There was no guarantee that there wasn't a spy or friend of Snoke's lurking around, listening.
"Poe, look, you seem like a nice guy. Fighting the good fight and all, but I need this job. If I lose it—"
She met his gaze, unflinching and thoughtful. Should she tell him everything? He might know who was holding her ransom with this crippling debt.
The scraping of plates, murmuring patrons and gentle jazz faded away, leaving a heavy silence between them.
"I owe some money, and someone's after me to get it back," she whispered.
Poe leaned in; that reporter's spark shining in his dark, hungry eyes. "Who's after you?"
"I don't know his name or anything about him. He wore a black mask and black clothes."
"Right," he drawled, leaning back in his chair. Thinking. "A man in black. Like in The Princess Bride?"
"What?!" she shrieked. "Nothing like the Princess Bride. Have you even watched that movie?"
"Hey, I saw the trailer. Twice."
"Well if you'd watched it you'd know he was trying to rescue her the entire time. He was the love interest. Forget it!" she snapped and grabbed her bag, pushing an uneaten dinner roll into the front pocket.
"Hold on, hold on! I'm sorry, Rey," Poe pleaded, hand outstretched, patting the table before her. "Don't go!"
She paused, still clutching her bag, itching to leave.
"Please, Rey," Poe continued, his voice gentle, disarming. "I want to help you."
"You can't," she breathed.
He took her hand in his own. It felt warm and rough, thick and gentle. "Try me, sunshine."
Rey sighed.
"Okay… six years ago." Her stomach churned at the memory of that time. "I went back to my home in Jakku…"
There she was again. Transported to the deserted apartment building, forgotten by everyone except the resident cockroaches moving in scattered swarms across the kitchen floor.
Rey had hauled her dog bed up from the street below, opened the windows, and cleared the cigarettes and beer bongs. Within a week, the chemical haze had disintegrated, and now she almost felt comfortable.
Her late parent's apartment was scorching in summer. Heat rose through every storey, making her little spot like an oven during the night and even more unbearable in the day. The cockroaches dwindled in number but no matter what she did, there were always flies; buzzing and bouncing around the rooms clumsily.
But, it was home.
The days were easy, filled with scavenging and hunting for treasures she could swap for food. But the nights were something else. The abandoned building had become a hive for squatters; she could hear them through the walls, shouting, fighting, humping. Sometimes, they tried to ransack her room. Banging at the door with broken bottles, asking her to come out. She had bolted the door and hammered planks across the doorframe, barriers to stop them getting in. But there was always the fear it wouldn't be enough to hold them back.
And it wasn't.
"The chair!" a voice hissed. "Tie her to the chair."
She scrambled, arms and legs flailing. She lashed out with her nails, kicking at whatever flesh she could find, even biting when she had the chance. The fight was short-lived and pathetic; in under a minute, the cold steel of the chair was hard against her back.
"Stop!" she cried. "I'm just a scavenger. Can't you see I don't have anything?"
A man in black towered over her. He was over six feet tall with broad shoulders, and while a balaclava hid his face, she could clearly see his eyes like pieces of coal. Cold and empty.
"Quiet," he hissed, pinning her hands down with his forearms while he tightened cable ties around her wrists.
"Last month you came into a sum of money…"
"No," she whimpered. The money she had gotten for selling her body. The money that Unkar Plutt had stolen from her the same day. "I don't have it!"
He came closer, voice calm and deadly. She felt his gaze all over, studying her from top to bottom, assessing her. A wooden club tapped against his leather palm in a slow staccato rhythm.
"She's lying." Another man stepped out of the shadows, also masked, but with fire-red tendrils of hair poking out from beneath his balaclava. "I just got off the phone with him. She has the money to cover the parent's debt."
Her assailant stepped forward again, squatting before her, resting his heavy elbows upon her knees. He raised her chin with his club, forcing her to meet his piercing gaze.
"I know you have the money."
She shook her head again, but he pressed the club hard against her.
"And now you're going to give it to me."
She kicked her legs at him, aiming for his groin, but missed, hitting his shin instead. His eyes twitched with pain, and he wrenched her hands forward, almost ripping her from the chair.
To fight or take flight? There was no longer a question.
She riled. An inferno of heat exploded in Rey's body. She'd had enough. So far she had been abandoned, abused, taken advantage of and now assaulted. Enough!
She drew the saliva from her mouth and spat at him with as much force as she could muster, her spittle landing in his eye.
He wiped it away, and she smirked.
"I'm not giving you anything!"
"We'll see." He stood, turning away from her as he tapped a number into his phone, bringing it to his ear.
The room fell into silence, the subdued ringer, the only noise in this vacuum of sound. The red-haired man paced in front of her, while the other men anchored around the perimeter fixed their eyes on her like hungry dogs waiting for the kill.
"You were right. The parents died of a drug overdose a year ago," the man in black spoke quietly into the phone. "The girl's here like you expected. What do you want me to do with her?"
Silence.
He nodded, covering the mouthpiece to speak to her.
"Is your name Kira?"
"Piss off," she hissed.
The man gave her a wry smile. "Yeah, it's Kira."
He walked around the room, murmuring into the phone inaudibly. At one point, he walked straight over her bed on the floor, tripping on it. He kicked it out of his path, and then paused, looking back at her.
"You got a dog?"
Rey shook her head, brows knitting in confusion until she realised what he was talking about. Her cheeks burned as she looked at the dog bed, her bed.
He stared at her, almost like he knew. She didn't know where to look, because now he studied her with a gravity that made her even more unsettled than the cold darkness in his eyes.
"Right." He held the phone out to his partner. "He wants to speak with you."
The red-haired man snatched the phone. "Yes, I'm here," he said with a pompous voice, too grandiose and out-of-place for a common thug. He walked out with the phone, leaving Rey alone with her assailant and his silent disciples.
She tried to quiet the threatening thoughts in her mind, her imagination running wild, picturing what a gang of criminals might do to her alone, in her apartment, with no one to help her. She closed her eyes, praying to whatever God was listening to her, to get her out of this alive.
When she opened them again, the man in black was right there in front of her, squatting, in her space. She could smell the spicy aroma of his aftershave and see the bags under his eyes.
When he kneeled this close to her, the cruellest thing was that those eyes were not unkind—in fact, they were almost sensitive.
But there was the lie. For this person was dangerous, a harbinger of all her worst nightmares.
"How old are you?" he asked, voice quiet. She would almost have thought him gentle, had he not been holding a weapon at his side.
She gathered herself, pushing back the tide of terror threatening to overwhelm her.
"I'm s—sixteen."
He turned away, mouth furrowed.
He went to speak, but just then the door thumped open and the redhead stormed in with a satiated grin.
"What the fuck are you doing?" the man in black shouted, as his companion held out his phone and hit record.
"The boss wants to watch you work."
"Turn it off," he growled.
"No can do. He wants you to break her arms, just to see if it will loosen her tongue."
Rey's blood ran cold, and the world slowed into some terrible horror film. The man in black marched to her, gripping her left arm between the fingers of his black gloves.
"Speak," he ordered, squeezing.
Tears welled, burning her eyes, she couldn't hold them back. It was too much, the fear, the pain…
"I can't—- I don't…" she stammered.
"Tell us where the money is!" The grip on her arm grew tighter, bruising her flesh.
Her tears came faster now, hot torrents streaming down her cheeks.
It was too much.
She could barely see, vision blurred by those hot salty tears, but she could still make out the baton held back and ready to swing against her arm. And then he crushed his fingers around her tighter, so hard she thought her bones would break.
"Stop!" she screamed. "Stop, it hurts too much."
He faltered, letting her go. She crouched over as much as her bindings allowed, heaving sobs rushing from her chest, as the men who had watched silently from the edges sniggered.
"Please," she whimpered. "I don't have the money. I never had it."
The heaving breaths would not subside and she squeezed her eyes shut, waiting for the crack that would splinter her bones.
A beat of wind rushed past her and every muscle in her body clenched as she waited for impact. There was a loud crash, followed by a ruckus of yelling and swearing. A wall mirror shattered, shards of it cascading around her.
Rey lifted her head, confused. He hadn't hit her.
Another smash, but this time she had seen the moment the man in black had raised a chair above his head, throwing it across the room and smashing a coffee table, destroying a thousand-piece puzzle she had been constructing.
"Speak, or it will be your head next!" he roared, with a voice as wild and untamed as a feral beast.
"I don't—" she sobbed, her voice coming in waves of sound and silence. He was going to kill her. This monster would be the last person she would ever see. Even as her tears came, he smashed his club around the room, forcing holes within the wall, destroying pictures, every last thing she had ever owned.
Rey watched them all fall in pieces at her feet.
"Are you quite finished?" the red-headed man sneered at him, holding the phone up to get a better angle of her attacker.
"I'll make her talk," the man in black growled.
"I knew you wouldn't be man enough to follow through. Do it." He turned his rat-shaped eyes intently toward Rey. "If that doesn't loosen her tongue then she can pay off her debt in the brothel. We can all help her, lads, can't we?"
The men cheered. Rey tried to swallow, but her mouth felt like flint. The only one who hadn't cajoled was the man in black. But his expression was different, fiercely intent and no less terrifying.
Rey's heart dropped. Was this what her life would be reduced to? To spend her life as a whore, without love, without a home, a slave—
She was jolted out of her thoughts as the chair she was tied to was dragged backwards, the sound of metal screeching across the tile floor. All she could do was look back at the surprised eyes of the men who watched her being dragged away.
Alone, with this psycho.
She squeezed her eyelids shut. Preparing herself for whatever was coming next.
"Open your eyes." His voice was like steel, firm and low, cutting sharp in the scorched air.
She did. They were alone in the kitchen.
And he had her knives.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
A blast of hot wind blew in from the open window as he unrolled a small bundle of Brazilian knives. She had kept those on the bench for cooking. Meticulously, he slid one out, flicking the blade, testing the sharpness by pressing the point through the finger of his glove, making it bleed.
He came to her with silent footsteps, sucking the blood from his finger. He pulled her chair in front of the window with a rough jolt.
From here she could see the street, five storeys below, empty and black. She thought about screaming.
He placed a hand on either side of the armrest, and he peered at her again, biting his lip.
"You know I can take whatever I want."
Rey swallowed. Her tears were dry now, courage resurfacing. "That's no less than I would expect from a monster in a mask."
"A monster?" He stepped back.
He lifted his hands, the black leather gloves pulling up the base of his balaclava. Rey's panic increased tenfold; everyone knew an attacker who was willing to betray their own identity was going to go the whole way.
He pulled it up over his chin, revealing a narrow jaw and then…
He stopped, before she had seen anything, as if suddenly changing his mind.
An ambiguous looked passed between them before he went back to the knives, placing one in each hand.
"I never miss," he said calmly, lifting a filleting knife up for her to see.
He flung it at her and it speared past her head, smashing through the windows and clattering onto the dilapidated fire escape outside.
Rey shrieked, and he threw another, cutting through the wind beside her ear on the other side. More glass.
She had no more words; they were drowned by her sobs. She wanted her mother. Her drugged-up, absent mother. Anyone—anyone else in the world other than him!
"You need to learn how to fight," he said surely.
The words surprised her, but only for a moment because then he slammed the wooden baton against one leg of her chair, the force of it flipping her face down against the tiles.
She lifted her body, just enough as to splay her hands against the cutting board on the floor. And then he grabbed her fingers, forcing them flat on the board. She fought against him, trying to clench her fist shut.
"Spread them."
She shook her head, tears spilling on the white tiles.
"I said spread your fucking fingers!"
She obeyed, waiting for the pain of losing them.
"Bring her back in here," the redhead's voice came from the other room. "Or do I need to come into that fucking roach-infested kitchen?"
"Keep still," the man in black whispered, eyes narrowed, knife poised.
"Please!" she cried once more.
"Still!" he roared, and she closed her eyes, keeping her fingers as steady as she could.
There was the clean-cut sound of a knife slicing downwards and Rey jumped as it landed with a thud.
She opened her eyes to see a silver blade wavering between her index and middle finger. And then his feet, perched either side of her, crouched down, breath pressing against her ear, dark wet hair falling onto her cheek.
"I suggest you think very hard about what you will do next. You have two minutes."
"Rey, I—" Poe stammered, his face the colour of curdled milk. "What happened next?"
"He left me there," she said, taking a shaking breath. "As soon as he was gone, I used the knife to cut the ties on my wrists and then my feet. I jumped out to the fire escape before he came back. The bloody thing almost collapsed. I ran and ran. I don't know if he saw me go. I didn't look back."
Poe bit his lip, eyebrows knitted, like a thought was building that he wasn't ready to speak yet.
"And then what?"
Rey smiled, face wistful, as she remembered the moment Maz had found her curled up behind a dumpster. The barely-there woman with dark skin and large thick glasses crawled down on her hands and knees to get her. She never did ask Maz how she managed to find her there.
"A woman named Maz Kanata found me, she has a home…"
"…for disadvantaged kids," Poe finished the sentence, face brightening as he spoke. "Yeah, I know Maz. We go way back."
Rey took a napkin and dabbed at her eyes. Retelling the full story for the first time had felt cathartic. But she was surprised to find her eyes were still wet with tears.
"How do you know her?"
"I used to work as press secretary with a close friend of hers, Senator Leia Organa-Solo."
"Senator Organa? That's big time, Poe," Rey gushed, before blushing at how pathetic it sounded. "She's practically a hero."
"She's a good woman. Our families have been friends for years," he said. "Small world, hey?"
Rey nodded, a little more impressed by him.
"I thought Maz only took on younger kids though?" Poe asked.
"Normally she does," Rey said. "But I think I looked too pathetic. She was amazing, she put me through school during the day and tutored me at night. On the weekend she arranged private self-defence lessons at Skywalker Academy—"
She was rambling, relishing the happy memories that followed. She hadn't even noticed the way Poe scrunched his face in thought and worry.
"Rey, who is your debt to?"
She shifted. "I—I don't know."
"Have you got anything, a business name, email, phone number, anything?" His voice was urgent, pressed.
She shook her head, but then remembered. Fishing around in her bag, she grabbed her wallet and pulled out a crumpled-up note
"All I have is an account number." She pushed it across the table. "Do you think you can find out who owns it?"
"It's not much to go on, but maybe." He pocketed the piece of paper, looking over to the door and eventually behind Rey with a half-smile.
Rey started, feeling two warm hands on her shoulders.
Finn!
She jumped up and gave him a hug, wrapping her arms around him and hiding her face in the crook of his neck. Finn laughed, his broad lips and wide smile settling the fear and worry in her heart.
"I missed you too, peanut!" he joked. "Poe, I have no idea where you've put your dictaphone, mate."
"Oh." Poe smiled guiltily and exchanged glances with Rey. He stood, leaving a wad of cash on the table. "Not to worry, I'll find it somewhere. By the way, your girl's going to work with us on the Snoke story."
"No, I didn't say…"
Poe stood suddenly, eyes fixed on some point outside.
"Poe?" Rey asked, but he was transfixed.
"I'll be God-damned," Poe said to himself. "It's Ben."
"Who—-"
Poe dashed out of the cafe without a word.
"Well, that wasn't weird," Finn said, grabbing the files and papers Poe had left sprawled all over the table.
Rey smiled. "Is he always like that?"
"Pretty much."
Finn pulled her close, beaming with excitement.
"Oh my God, peanut! I'm so excited you're going to work with us." They walked towards the door, Finn's arm resting on her shoulders. "I told him you were bloody brilliant. You won't regret this."
Rey blushed, punching him gently to stop. Up ahead Poe was waving his hands wildly. Then his booming voice made almost every passerby stop and gawk at him as he bellowed, "Ben Solo, over here!"
In the distance, a tall, dark-haired man, in a white shirt with sleeves rolled up to the elbows, froze on the footpath.
He had his back to her, and even though he looked different, polished and pristine, Rey knew at once.
It was him.
And that meant she held the most dangerous secret of all.
The real identity of Kylo Ren.
[ENDS]