November 21st, 2014

Emergency vehicles' lights strobed in front of the club as I pulled into an office building's parking lot across the street. When Claire sent the text, "Please come get me," I sprinted to the garage and headed for Live. Anything could have happened since my father and Isabella took over the establishment. RPD officers were walking to and from the entrance, but only one ambulance was parked outside. That was one too many for my liking.

When I approached the entrance, an officer I knew as Adams noticed me. "Whoa, buddy. Stop right there."

"Captain Wesker of STARS," I announced, initially intending to brush past him.

The officer held his arm out to bar passage. "I get that, but this is an RPD case."

Vexed, I rejoined, "STARS is part of the RPD!"

"You guys have your special cases, and we have ours." This nitwit would dare to use an emergency as revenge for the times they were left out.

I was on the cusp of losing my temper until I remembered other members of my squad were more liked than me. "Redfield's sister is in there."

Adams deeply inhaled and rolled his eyes. "Come on in." This was not the best idea; Adams would report this to Chris, if not the entire RPD. Despite knowing this when I left, I still had to come. I needed to know that she was all right. I needed to know I didn't have to kill my father and his "family members."

As I swept by my unlikely ally of the night, I pulled out my phone to text Claire and ask her location inside.

She informed me that she was upstairs, but the line of security guards and officers should have been a good indicator. The club had been emptied except for everyone with upstairs access.

Squeezing past several men, I finally reached the top of the stairway. Claire sat before a table in the center of the space, checking her phone. I cleared the distance in a few strides.

"Al!" she exclaimed once I was in view. Claire jumped to her feet and reciprocated the embrace I pulled her into. Her body felt tense in my arms, but it was undoubtedly due to the incident. Whatever it was.

Quickly, I kissed her cheek in acknowledgment of the crowd. We both knew that I wanted to do more than that. "What happened?"

Brow furrowed, she pointed to the back of the area where at least five police surrounded someone. "Some crazy guy attacked Isabella!"

Though I heard the name clearly, I almost asked her to repeat it. The crowd of cops parted, and I saw her standing among them. That woman knew how to play them all.

A concerned look was painted on her face as she appeared to give them her side of the story, and I heard her harsh accent break through the area. How could it be that I went from being an outsider to being right in the conversation just by focusing?

I heard her telling the men that she didn't know who the attacker was and that they yelled something in a foreign language. The thug had infiltrated the VIP area and wrestled with her before throwing himself from the railing.

Then, one of the officers informed her that the attacker was still breathing when the paramedics arrived. Only I knew that her relief was feigned.

"I think he was on drugs," she declared. "He probably didn't know where he was!"

It wasn't ideal for Claire to take note of the attention I was paying to Isabella's report. I asked, "Are you all right?"

A small hand found mine against her cheek, and I imagined she was distracted by the significance. Such a public display should be frowned upon and curbed, but her eyes locked with mine.

A shallow breath left my chest as I drew nearer until I could feel her own against my lips. The rest of the scene was muted as I became lost in her gaze. Could I just…

"Hi!" a small voice piped up.

With reluctance, Claire and I parted. We turned our attention to a small, blonde woman across from us.

"Sorry," Claire said as she shook her head. "This is my best friend, Amanda."

Unsure of how to introduce myself at such a time, I leaned over the table to shake Amanda's hand. "Captain Wesker. Claire's brother's captain."

With a mischievous smirk, Amanda replied, "I know who you are."

Nervously, I saw the auburn-haired woman next to me tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. Should I have felt flattered to know she had been talking about me to someone? This revelation didn't invoke anger, but did it call for joy?

"I've heard about you as well," I recovered. Amanda was petite with an ample bosom that wasn't natural. Pouty lips that were also enhanced fell from a smirk into a genuine smile once she registered my words. Her artificial tan could not hide the fact that she was obviously darker-hued without it; her tan lines were barely noticeable. Every part of her was manicured and polished, leaving nothing about her to be jagged but her infamous personality.

As she stood, she shrugged and said, "Eh. Claire tends to leave out the good parts. 'Bout time you joined us for a party! It's even better when you know the owner."

When she gestured to Isabella, the raven-haired woman pretended to finally notice me. "Albert!" Without excusing herself, she walked past the cops that were questioning her.

Claire stepped back and asked, "You guys know each other?" Though she was confident, I could see the insecurity on her face. She self-soothed by hugging herself but tried to play it off by rubbing her arms. Though undeniable, Isabella's beauty titillated fools; a learned man could spot her calculating nature the moment they greeted. Claire was open and vibrant. She was incapable of veiling her true nature.

Without an effort to gain control of the narrative, I looked to Isabella; she would tell them whatever she wanted. Or so I thought. "She works for my father," I admitted.

"She's your father's liaison?" Claire asked in interest.

In her newly-softening accent, Isabella said, "I have worked with Ozwell for years. His family is my family."

With unintended spite, I countered with, "Yes. Alex is very much like a brother to you." The inflection I added to the word "brother" was not subtle, and for the first time, I think I caught her off guard. I could see the curiosity growing on Claire's face, but she remained quiet.

The air had thickened with tension, but the universe wasn't finished adding to it. "What the hell happened here?" We all turned to see the younger form of my father hurrying up the stairs, shooing away officers that attempted to approach. When he saw me, he loudly inquired, "What the hell are you doing here?"

"Spence." Isabella coldly barked the name and stopped him in his tracks.

I felt Claire's body move closer to mine, certainly concerned with the changing tone. "Um, should we go?" The "we" she referred to was herself and Amanda, but I didn't feel comfortable leaving her alone now that I knew she was acquainted with Father and his "liaison."

Phone raised, Amanda announced, "I can get a ride."

"Don't be ridiculous," Isabella scoffed. "I'll take you home."

The blonde looked between her and her best friend.

"Could you?" Claire asked me. Even now, she couldn't be selfish and let Amanda fend for herself.

Before I could respond, Amanda displayed the screen of her cell to us. "No big! Dawson is coming to get me," she assured us. "My parents are out of town, and I kind of don't wanna be alone." The subtext read that we did. Little did she know, I had thoughts about her accepting a ride from Father and Isabella.

"Please, be careful," Claire asserted.

Without a verbal response, Amanda rounded the table to pull her friend into a tight embrace. Then she looked at Isabella with that mischievous smirk from before. "Tonight was the best night I've had at Live. The change in theme was awesome."

"Noted. Thursday night is rave night." Isabella smirked back, and the boldness of their flirtations shocked me. The two hugged, and the dark-haired woman kissed Amanda's lips. It was so short -a peck, really- that it may have been innocent, but the memory of Isabella tucked into a corner with my brother at dinner suggested otherwise. She was the monster we saw in movies and on TV. We read about her voracious appetite for sex and blood, yet we exonerated their actions because they were en vogue.

Claire looked at me with raised brows, demonstrating that we were on the same page concerning what we'd seen.

I moved to signal for us to begin exiting, but the man I knew as Father held up a finger to tell me to wait.

"Albert, a word?" "Spence," ushered me toward the corner the police had conducted their interview in earlier. As he waited for me to excuse myself, he lit up a joint without the care of his audience. When I returned to work, I'd be poking around Irons's office to see what this Spence character had on the RPD for him to flagrantly commit a crime in front of officers. "What are you doing here?"

"You know what I'm doing here," I countered while fanning back the fumes of his joint.

"I almost forgot how tight she was," he mused. "I guess I can see why you're here."

I stepped in closer to look down at him. Father was shorter than me, but in his youthful form, he gained two inches and stood at 5'10" versus my 6'2". Four inches was bit to a man that wanted to lord over everyone in the vicinity. Ozwell Spencer never appreciated being made to feel small, and though he would always win the war of words, I needed none to get my point across to him. "You and your friend will leave Claire and Amanda alone."

In mock amusement, he taunted me. "Awe, have you found a human?" He chuckled, "We've all been there."

I growled, "Lower your voice."

"You have no idea, do you?" The bewilderment in his voice caught me off guard. "How loud do you think we're talking?"

Upon glancing at Isabella and Claire, I saw they were engrossed in a conversation, completely unaware of ours. Claire was, at least.

"The abilities come on one at a time spontaneously," Father informed me. "What else have you experienced?"

My gaze wandered back to Claire, and I couldn't get her away from Isabella sooner. I informed Father that we would speak about this later. As I escorted Claire from the club, I barely gave the ladies time to say their goodbyes. The longer I spent in the presence of my new "family," the more I considered it was probably for the best that I limit the young woman's exposure to me. Could I?

This was the first time I'd ever been in his car. Now that the thought occurred, I'd never been given a proper tour of his home outside of the downstairs interior. Perhaps I'd get to familiarize myself with his property soon. Yes, I called him to get me, but I also knew that we needed to hit restart. So, I was polite when I complimented the black S-Class Mercedes that my mom had been dropping hints about to Dad. The red interior was a genuine surprise that I marveled at, and Al seemed to appreciate how impressed I was with his choice of vehicle. As I questioned him about the automobile, I noted that he'd taken a longer route to get me home, but it was soon revealed that he wanted to inquire about the incident tonight.

There wasn't much information I could provide; I was preoccupied with crossing the line I drew. I admitted that I was drinking. Part of me was surprised that he didn't chastise me, but the other part appreciated that he wasn't a hypocrite. He seemed assured when I tried to convince him that once things got rowdy, I mostly sobered up.

When I asked him about Isabella, he seemed to avoid the subject as he merely said, "I don't know much about her relationship with my family." Then when I asked about his implication of her and Alex's familiarity, I swore he winced. "I really don't know much about that."

"I only ask because Amanda seems to like her." It was an easy way to gain the upper hand on the topic of a woman I barely knew.

"Then they both are equally equipped on both sides."

My friend's sexuality remained a mystery; I thought she drew the line at physical hookups with women, but could they have ended up as more? Alex was no friend of mine, but it put me in an awkward position if I were to hear her praises from Amanda after witnessing her and the former together. These thoughts of Al's brother suddenly reminded me of mine. I whipped my phone out to check my alerts. I missed several calls and text messages, but they were recent.

Al drove in silence as I tried to get through to my mom, but I figured her line was busy with calls to the RPD. Instead of trying to call everyone, I sent a group message to let them know I was okay and nearby. I placed my head against the headrest, stared through the moonroof, and exhaled deeply. How would this go? Surely Al would drop me off. I pulled the jacket he lent me tighter around my body, catching the scent of his Bvlgari cologne upon inhaling. I didn't want to give it back.

Al was with emergency services, so it didn't surprise me when he entered the master code to enter the gate of Cherry Creek. My stomach began turning flips as we turned down my street. Then he drove past my house with the windows all alight. Rather than reading my mind and exiting the neighborhood, he stopped near the edge of the street to put some space between me and the tornado I'd have to walk into.

"I don't want to go in there," I moaned.

He killed the engine and tapped the steering wheel thoughtfully. "You could come home with me." It didn't take long for him to add, "Although I'm certain your family wants to make sure you're unharmed." The streetlights allowed little light into the cabin of the coupe. Cold air started to creep into the vehicle. As I delayed, it grew chillier, and his concern became tainted with conflict. "Well," the blond began, pulling a pair of shades from the compartment above to put them on, "we could stay here a little longer, but I think you need the heat."

My chauffeur restarted the car and cut the lights. I was glad he did; Chris was probably checking the windows constantly and would've noticed immediately.

Without meaning to, I admitted, "I'd love to go home with you." I rolled my head to the side to look at him to find that he never took his eyes off me. "Starting over," I reminded him as I stared back down the street into the distance. As I pursed my lips, I closed my eyes and waited. There was nothing in particular that I was waiting for, but I knew he wanted to be alone with me too badly to accept silence.

On cue, the blond brought my hand up to his mouth to kiss it, and despite the chill, I began to melt. "Then you should go, Claire."

It felt cold again. "Thank you for coming to get me." What was the point in starting over?

His jaw clenched. "What are we doing?"

You're turning the lights on and taking me back to your place, I said to myself. Aloud, I instead stated, "I'm going home. You're going home. But you're texting me. Tonight." His question was double-edged; he wanted to know what this was between us. Though he didn't say it outright, I blurted out, "I want us to be more than fuckbuddies."

A single laugh cut through the air. "We haven't even 'fucked.'"

"Let's not kid ourselves. We want to. But I really like you. We don't talk about it. Al, I want to be more than whatever we are. I know I'm young, but I couldn't take it if-" Pathetically, the words caught in my throat, and I failed to expound.

Before I could embarrass myself further, he grabbed the back of my head and pulled my face into his. Our lips messily met as we leaned into the kiss. My hand rested against his throat while his free hand roamed beneath the leather RPD jacket to cup a breast.

Dizzily, I panted, "Take me home with you." That tickle, those butterflies, and the fog that weighed on my usually rational brain overpowered me. I couldn't stop kissing him. Even when his hands retracted from my body to turn the lights back on.

As he reached for the gear stick, we heard someone yelling, "Captain!"

We both could have groaned in frustration at that moment. Instead, we just stared into each other's eyes and accepted that tonight wouldn't be the night.

Reading my mind, Al assured me that the tint was too dark for anyone to see through.

"Captain, is that you?" Chris yelled out as I spotted him crossing the street.

Al reached for his door handle. "I'll text you when I get home."

Upon his exit from the cabin, I sank down into the crimson passenger seat. Prayers were being muttered for my skin to return to its unflushed color as I zipped up his jacket to my chin.

"Captain, did you hear-" When my brother's voice cut off, I knew he'd spotted me

"Thank God! Honey!" Mom's voice was still growing closer; she ran around to yank open my door. My parents swarmed me when I exited the vehicle, and I was glad for that. Their bodies shielded my face from Chris while I mustered up the appropriate display of relief to see them again. "Captain Wesker, thank you so much for getting her home!"

Through their arms, I managed to peek at the blond, but his back was to us.

"What's she doing with you?" Chris asked in a low voice.

Confidently, Al responded, "I picked her up when I heard about the incident. Spencer's liaison was there."

I saw the confusion on my brother's face. Before he could get kicked out of STARS, I pulled away from Mom and Dad. "Amanda and I are friends with her. The whole RPD showed up, and Amanda was too upset to go home. Dawson picked her up, so I asked Captain Wesker for a ride."

Chris's blue eyes darted between the two of us. "You're on medical leave."

"I'm the only STARS member on call for Lord Spencer," he announced. "That goes for his liaison."

"'Guess it's a good thing you showed up then," he said insincerely. "You got cold?" he shouted from the other side of the car. "Thanks, Captain, but we got it from here. I'll see you back at work next week."

My parents took that as a sign to head back inside.

As they ushered me along, I apologetically glanced at Al, but he only ducked his head and smirked. During our walk to the house, my fingers rested against the cell phone in my pocket. I should've gone with him.