A/N:

Is it weird that vacation from my actual author job is writing for FanFiction? Yes? I thought so. But I embrace my prime weirdness, tenfold.

On with the next chapter!

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Jak.

It was a good day.

Good days were hard to come by. Every time one situation was taken care of, another arose. There was never really any "downtime", even when there was downtime. I'd never gone on a trip before—not alone, not with my wife, not as a family. Sparxon was born, and being the frail little potato he was in the first year of his life, there was no reason to take him on a vacation getaway. And Darla and I didn't go anywhere without him, so we just didn't really go anywhere at all. I figured maybe once he was old enough to enjoy family time away from home, we'd take a nice, long trip. See the world, just the three of us. But that future wasn't in sight yet, so I'd just put it on the list of things to do when I had time. Or chose to make time for it.

But this, right now, felt like downtime. This felt like vacation. This was a good day.

The sounds of the waves rolling along the shore drifted gently through my eardrums. The sand under my bare feet was soft, cooled off from the setting sun. The sky was a beautiful display of pinks and blues, oranges and purples, sparkling on the sea. The water stretched for miles and miles, so far that you couldn't see what lay beyond. The Brink, perhaps? The place I've studied diligently over the last two years, the mysterious location mentioned in my father's documented research files he provided me upon his death? I didn't know for sure, and neither did he. His research only mentioned something about it being the edge of the planet, the drop-off of our world. But, maybe, that's what truly lay beyond.

For now, the world stretched on infinitely, just like this day with my son.

We strolled the beach together, hand-in-hand, with him pulling me along the shore as though he knew exactly where he was headed. His petite palm was engulfed by my larger one, but—in a metaphorical sense—it didn't feel much smaller than my own. Nothing about Sparxon was small, in that regard. My once infant son was now a human being, with the world before him and a wild life ahead.

It was unfathomable to think that, one day, he would grow up and go on adventures with his friends. He was already so much like me, so he'd certainly be up to no good. It was both terrifying and exciting to know that he would some day feel and think and be as I am, yet be his own person at the same time. He would love and hate, feel fear or show courage. The medallion, our seal of House Mar, was once as big as his skull, and one day he would wear it well. He would grow and keep growing away from the little boy that now walked beside me, when it seemed like only yesterday he was just my drooling, wide-eyed, innocent Sparky.

"I'm bigger now, Daddy."

His voice joggled my thoughts. I grinned down at him.

"You're much bigger. Almost as tall as me."

He frowned and halted, turning us to the sea. He gazed down at his toes in the sand, digging them deeper beneath it.

"You miss me small."

"I miss when you were smaller, sure." I nodded, looking out at the water as I moved my foot near his. "But I like you more now. We walk together, talk together, play together. We're better pals than before, don't you think?"

He didn't respond and I glanced down at him. He continued to frown. I knelt by his side, placing my hands on his tiny waist, turning him to me.

"I'm not sad about you being big, Sparxon." I explained, bowing my head so that he was forced to look me in the eyes. "I miss when you were a baby because you only get to be a baby one time. I'm going to miss you every year that you get older. It's not a bad thing—each year that you get bigger is a brand new adventure. Right?"

He shrugged and I squeezed his ticklish sides, earning a tiny giggle from him. I lifted his chin with my finger.

"Think of it this way," I went on. "When you were a baby, you were too little to do all these things with me, like walk and talk and play. But now you're a big kid. You're big enough to tell me we're best friends. You're still my best friend right?"

"Yeah!" He jumped into my arms, flinging his own around my neck. I laughed and sat back in the sand, pulling him into my lap. I sighed, petting his sunny-blond hair.

"You're too smart for your own good." I murmured. He patted my back in reply, as if I needed some sort of reassurance, making me chuckle.

"I know." He pulled back and looked me in the eyes. "Dad?"

I sighed again, knowing whenever he said my name in that tone, it always meant he had questions.

"Yeah, bud?"

"I worry."

He worried. Of course, he worried. He was a toddler who could hear the minds of every person around him. He was "too smart for his own good" because everything he heard registered. I should've known something was going on with him all this time. Though his language was broken and grammar imperfect due to his age, his conversations were different than the other children we knew. He seemed far more mature some days. He had his moments obviously, since he was, in fact, a child. But he never ceased to amaze me, and I should've realized he was struggling.

"I worry big." He touched the side of my face. "But...I don't like when you worry, Daddy."

I rolled my eyes at him. "I'm worrying about you, boyo."

"I know." He rolled his eyes, too. "But I worry for Mommy. You need to worry for Mommy. Not for me."

"I am worried about her, though," I said. "That's why I brought you here. I wanted to protect you. But I'm also thinking about her. I didn't want to hurt Mommy's feelings. And I know I did by running away and taking you with me."

"We think'd it was good to run away. Good for her, and us."

"Yeah. I figured space might do us some good. And you said she needed a clear head, right? No more, uh...clouds."

"Mmhmm." He nodded slowly, his small brow furrowing. "Yeah. But now...I can't hear her. So, now, I don't know."

"You were right, though." I leaned back on my forearms in the sand. "She needed to be away from both of us, even if she didn't want us to leave. Not because of us, but because of those clouds in her mind." I picked up a shell with my fingertips. "I thought I took you here to protect you, but I think I knew she needed a break from us in order to focus on whatever is distracting her so damn much."

"Bad word, Dad." Sparxon glared at me with his sharp, indigo gaze.

I smiled. "Sorry. Anyway, sometimes when Mommy gets upset, she needs some time to think. So I give her a little time until she feels better. And Mommy does the same thing for me when I'm upset. That's why we needed these past few days apart. I think Mommy and I both need to get rid of some clouds."

Sparky watched me with wary eyes. He slid off my lap, sitting beside me and facing the ocean. He then wound his arms around my bent leg, resting his head on my thigh.

"You know best."

It came out like a whisper, and he didn't sound anything like my two-year-old boy. I felt like he meant what he said, but there was something condescending about the way he said it. As if, even though I made a good decision by leaving, he may not think it was necessarily the right decision.

I grimaced, my bottom lip jutting out as anxiety crept into my brain. But Sparky suddenly peered over his shoulder at me, flashing me the biggest grin.

"Dad, I want to see fish!"

I exhaled with relief. My little boy had returned. I smirked at him, lifting an eyebrow.

"How about I take you out on Papa Damas's old fishing boat tomorrow and we can hunt for lurker sharks?"

Sparxon cried out happily and tackled me. I fell back in the sand, feigning defeat as he pounced. We laughed together, the sun finally sinking deep into the see, the sky a light indigo color, much like my son's eyes were.

My thigh vibrated and Sparxon rolled off of me. I sat up and reached into my pocket for my communicator. I saw Daxter's name on the screen and answered, placing the device to my ear.

"Hey, Dax." I said, watching Sparky move our boots and begin to line them up in the sand.

"It's me."

My heart stopped at the sound of Darla's voice coming through in place of my best friend's. I didn't respond. My mouth ran dry and my stomach turned.

She sighed loudly. "You were right. And I understand why you did this. But now it's time to come home."

Sparxon made a pattern with our shoes—big boot, small boot, big boot, small boot. I focused on him playing in an attempt to steady my breathing.

I spoke with hesitancy. "I don't know…"

"I'm serious, Jak." Darla pleaded urgently. "All the secrecy and meetings you weren't in on, all the plans I'd been making without you... They didn't even work. I tried my best, but I wasn't able to do what needed to be done in order protect us from our next obstacle." She paused and I heard her suck in air sharply. "All the lies and our fight, and you taking Sparxon away… It was all for nothing."

I stood up abruptly and took several steps back from my son so he wouldn't overhear our conversation. "What does that mean?"

"It means I failed."

I didn't say anything. I didn't know what the hell she was even talking about.

"I still want to discuss what happened between us." She went on. "I want to mend what's broken, and I promise you things are going to change. But you need to get back to Kras. Now." Her tone was strong, unwavering. "Our family needs to be together for us to get through this next chapter."

I was terrified by what she meant by all of this. Usually when Darla and I gave each other space for whatever the reason, we allowed one another to actually get that space. I know this time was my most extreme, literally leaving with our child without a single word. But I was so used to Darla letting me cool down after an argument or bad day, and I always did the same for her. But she demanded that I come home immediately. And that could only mean one thing.

Whatever future or fears she'd been keeping from me were finally here, just over the horizon.

The storm had arrived.

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Darla.

I paced the apartment, awaiting Jak's arrival.

I tried to wait a few days before calling him. Almost a week. I knew he'd come back like Keira said, and I knew he was only trying to do the right thing for our family, just as I had been. I thought he'd be back in a day or two, and we'd fix things, and I'd tell him what was about to happen to all of us. I would tell him that, a long time ago, I'd had visions that we'd all somehow be roped into a crime war that involved being forced to race for our lives. What was once a fun sport that made Jak thrive would soon become his worst nightmare. I'd tell him I wasn't sure how or why we'd get involved, but there was no way I could've stopped it. I had thought he'd be back by now for me to tell him all of this.

But it couldn't wait any longer. The reading of Krew's Will was happening in two days. I had done all I could, and he needed to come home so we could be a family again. There was no time to waste on fighting each other when another battle was already here.

The front door clicked and I gasped with anticipation. My belly warmed, both from nerves and the want to see my husband after days of being apart. The door opened slightly, and it was just Jak's head that peeked into our apartment.

I don't know what I expected. I thought maybe he'd come in guns blazing and pissed off. Ready to fight me as I tried to tell him the truth. But he didn't look pissed. In fact, he looked far from it.

Jak looked like a sad, disheveled crocadog. His blond-and-green hair was in complete disarray, a spiky mess of bedhead, and his goatee was looking scraggly. He'd always had this nervous tick, where he consistently scratched his chin to oblivion, so I assumed it was from that. Dark circles bore beneath his wide, blue eyes, which stared at me like he thought I was about to bite him. His shoulders were hiked up to his ears, as though he were afraid of coming into the room. His jaw stuck out, his bottom lip in a pout.

I grumbled, almost angry that he wasn't as angry as I felt, but also relieved that he looked almost apologetic. I walked up to the door and pulled it gently open to guide him inside. He slipped through the opening, closing the door behind him.

"Where is he?" I asked when I noticed Sparxon wasn't with Jak.

Jak rubbed the back of his head, leaning against the door, avoiding my gaze. "I dropped him off at the garage to see Keira and Daxter. I didn't think he should be here for...our conversation."

"I see."

"He already knows too much." Jak went on bitterly, standing a little taller. He crossed his arms, suddenly glaring at me in an accusatory way. "He's too young to know as much as he does. Did you know?"

I lifted my eyebrows. "Did I know what?"

"About his powers." Jak said, "Did you know he could read minds? Everyone's minds?"

My chest constricted, but not in the way it did before major visions. No...this was a constriction of panic.

"N-No." I whispered, spinning away from Jak so he wouldn't see my sudden terror. "I knew he'd...I thought he'd be able to do things we couldn't, have abilities we didn't have. But I never thought he'd have them so young. I never thought this would be..." I trailed off.

My son, my little boy, was burdened by the consumption of countless minds belonging to countless souls.

My hands rested over my chest and I walked toward the couch. I didn't sit.

"Yeah, well," Jak followed me to the living room, his stance tense. "He knows everything. It's why he's so fucking smart, Darla. Why he speaks in the way he does, and why he's always so intuitive. How he always knows exactly what we are feeling and thinking. Why he always says such strange things..." He dragged his hands down his face with clear exasperation. "God, Darla, he can see your visions when you experience them."

We finally locked eyes as I covered my mouth with shame. My job, my life's purpose, was to protect my son. But I couldn't even protect him from my own thoughts. How was I supposed to protect him from everything else?

"How long have you known?" I asked.

He placed his hands on his hips. "Since I took him away. He kept...saying things. While we watched the fireworks, I asked him if he could hear people's thoughts. He told me he could. He said he hears everyone. He told me my head is 'loud' and yours is 'quiet', and that your head right now is apparently full of clouds, and that if we didn't leave, you'd wouldn't be able to 'save us'." His breath caught and he bit his lip, gaze shifting to the floor. "He was the one who told me it was okay for us to leave."

No wonder it seemed so easy for Jak to take our son away. Our son told him it was okay. He practically gave him permission for Jak to take him away...all because of me. Because I wouldn't be able to save them.

Sparxon was right. I couldn't save them.

"He knew we were in trouble," I uttered.

Jak threw his hands up in annoyance. "Guess so. Seems like everyone's been in the know except me."

I made a sound of disgust and shot him daggers with my eyes.

"Give me a break, Jak," I spat. "I'm sorry for hiding so much from you, but you know damn well it was for your own safety."

He snarled, his upper lip curling. "Oh, no, I'm sorry, Darla. I'm sorry for being worried about you. I'm sorry for feeling left out of your life when it's supposed to be our life. I'm sorry for being the only one who doesn't know how much danger we are actually in, or what the danger even is!"

"Really? Really?" My tone raised at least twelve decimals as I felt my demon stirring in me. I stormed around the coffee table until I was in Jak's face. "Wasn't it always you running around getting into trouble with Dax and the Underground for all those years? Wasn't always you who left me hanging, left me worrying sick, left me pregnant and alone—"

"I didn't know about the baby!" He cut me off, throwing his hands up again, eyes flaring. "I was at a crossroads then, D, there was so much shit going on—"

"And? What's your point?" I shouted. "I did my part in the Underground while we kept our relationship afloat and you fought for your life. I still work hard at protecting our family and friends, all while navigating our relationship!"

"But you don't have to work hard." He groaned, pulling his hair. "We've been doing just fine without running after our enemies. You don't need to fight, there is nothing to navigate. You don't need to do anything anymore! We have our son now—"

"So, should I have just sat around these last few years, then?" I laughed humorlessly, jabbing him in the chest with my finger harshly. "Should I have sat around playing housewife, ignoring my visions, while you ran off into danger to play hero?"

Jak looked stunned, eyes wide as saucers. His arms dropped to his sides and his jaw went slack.

"Darla, I haven't been a 'hero' in almost three fucking years!" He yelled, causing me to flinch. His nostrils flared and he shook his head slowly, looking disappointed in me. "You're the one who seems to have been working that job full-time!"

I fell silent. The guilt that had chewed me before now swallowed me whole. I stared at Jak as he took three deep breaths, hands grasping his hips.

A lot had changed with him in the last few years. He was far less reckless, far more overbearing, far more...afraid. But he was also more loving, if it were even possible. He was more attentive, as proven by our most recent argument. And he was so much more mature. He'd changed, and I never really thought about how, never even really noticed, until the moment he screamed at me.

Maybe I never noticed, because I hadn't changed. I've pretty much been the same Darla since Jak and I met. It wasn't necessarily a bad thing. Jak had become a different person because of all the different experiences he'd faced over the years. He had to fight on a daily basis just to learn how to be who he was right now, while my own growth had been relatively gradual. I just needed to figure out how to better understand him, adjust my own actions and reactions. While he had seemed to hang up his boots, I had continued wearing mine. Maybe...Maybe I had to be more afraid, and more attentive, than I'd been in a while.

I was hardened. Becoming a mother made me soft in someways, and stronger in others. I hadn't changed...but I was different, and he needed to accept that I would not be the exact same woman he fell in love with all those years ago. I'd never be the same person, and neither would he. But we had to grow together. We had to meet in the middle, even if we didn't agree on whatever the matter was. We had to start acting married.

And the only way to do that was to start being honest, and stop keeping things from Jak.

I released a quiet sigh, pressing my palms flat to his chest. I gazed up at him, closing the gap between us, putting my body against his. His glare softened as he watched me, then disappeared completely when I moved my arms to the back of his neck.

"You'll always be my hero," I told him. "You don't have to be fighting in a war to be my hero. And I'm not trying to be a 'full-time hero' myself. But I would do anything to protect you. I did everything I could, including lying, hiding, distancing myself, putting myself in the middle of danger, and hurting your feelings." I touched his face, and he leaned into my hand. "I went about it all wrong. I'm so sorry for that. I promise you I won't lie to you anymore, like I have been. I promise I will include you in everything."

He nodded, his shoulders starting to sag.

I gave him a knowing look. "But you also need to remember that there will be times where—when it comes to my visions—I really, truly cannot tell you everything. There are some things I just can't say. To anyone. There is a balance that needs to be kept. It kills me, but that's just how it is."

I rose on my tiptoes and pressed my cheek to his. He smelled like the beach, like how he always smelled. I breathed him in, relief washing over me that I had him here in front of me, alive and well. I didn't care if he'd be still mad after this. I didn't care how mad it made me when he left with Sparxon, just to teach me some kind of lesson, or give me space, or whatever the reason had been. It didn't matter, because I knew I still had him. No matter what. And I knew I had to get him through all the awful things headed our way, because it was love that kept him going strong and fighting on. It kept all of us strong and fighting.

"You deserve so much more than what the world gives you," I whispered in his ear. "You have to know how sorry I am for my behavior lately. You have to know how much I love you."

Jak's arms instantly went around my torso and he squeezed me, groaning into my neck.

"Of course I know, D," he grunted, sounding defeated. "I was just...so angry. I love the hell out of you. I just need you to remember we're in this together. We need to talk more." He pulled back and shot me another dirty—but a bit more flirty—look. "Please, my darling wife, please do this...if not for our relationship, then at the very least, for my sanity."

I let out an impulsive giggle and wrapped my arms around his waist. He moved his arms to my shoulders, clutching me to him.

"You drive me nuts." He growled, pressing his lips to mine.

"I know," I smirked. "I'm going to be more honest...starting right now." I pulled away from him before he could distract me further. "You're not going to be happy about what I'm going to tell you."

"Good thing I'm expecting the worst." He frowned and sat down onto the couch.

I don't think you are. I thought, making my way over to the kitchen counter, where I'd placed a small "I'm sorry, forgive me" token of my love I'd bought him the day before. I snatched up the package and brought it over to Jak, plopping down beside him.

"I got you something," I handed him the box. He glanced at me quizzically, looking wary of what was inside. I gestured to the gift, urging him to open it. "I just thought it might soften the next blow I'm going to deliver."

"Oh, God." Jak snorted, then pried open the cardboard folds of the box. His eyebrows furrowed and he blinked up at me. "New...goggles?"

I nodded and pulled them out. "Your old ones are so dingy, and the lenses are scratched from the last time you took Sparky in the dune buggy." I ran my thumb over the shining material. "These are tinted for when you're out in the sun...which is a lot. You always get the same pair, so I thought I'd get you a better one that will withstand the forces of nature. They're scratch-proof, shatter-proof...basically everything proof."

I hoped I was convincing enough. I needed Jak to think they were simply a nice gift, rather than a replacement for the old pair that would cause him to go blind in his left eye during a collision in one of the upcoming races he'd be in. We wouldn't get through this if Jak only had one working eye the whole time. Again, this was a vision he didn't need to know about if I'd found an easy way to prevent it by buying him upgraded protective eyewear.

Jak flashed me a wide smile and leaned over to kiss my cheek. "They're awesome. Thanks."

I took the box from his lap and placed it on the table. I then took his hands in mine and took a deep breath.

"We're in deep shit, love." I tried to sound lighthearted, but it came out so much more grave than I'd intended. "Krew's daughter is in town. She invited us for the reading of Krew's Last Will and Testament, because we're apparently in it. All of us."

"First off—Krew has a daughter?" Jak's expression was incredulous as he shivered. "That's...just...No. Nope. I can't even think about it. We're going to move on from that topic immediately. Secondly...why would any of us be in his Will?" Jak glimpsed at our hands in his lap. "I was sure Krew's attack on us was premeditated. There's no way he would leave us with anything. And even if he had, he would have removed us before he tried to kill me. Unless we had killed him before he had made any changes to the document's verbage..."

"Well, he kept us in it either way." I shrugged. "As a result, we're attending a gathering Saturday in the the top floor conference room at our Kras City HQ."

"At least we'll have a nice view." Jak wrinkled his nose. "So, why are we in deep shit, then?"

"You know how Krew was tangled up with different mob bosses throughout all the cities surrounding Haven?" I fiddled with my fingers, twisting my wedding band around and around. "In a Will, a normal person would leave people their valuable items, some money, maybe a property. But Krew..." I bit my bottom lip. "He basically left us his mess to clean up."

Jak rested the back of his head against the couch. "Goddammit. That's probably why the crime rate in all the local cities skyrocketed—everyone's fighting for a piece of what Krew left behind. No one's claimed anything, so it's all up for grabs."

"Right." I frowned. "And Krew wants to ensure that he's still on top, even though he isn't even here. He wants to preserve his legacy. He wants us to preserve it for him."

"Then how come his daughter never came around to claim what is rightfully hers? 'Rightfully' being the operative word here, obviously." Jak scratched his chin, "Why wait until others are after his empire? Why has it taken this long for his Will to be read?"

I glanced to the side, thinking of a way to be vague about this without straight-up lying through my teeth. How would I skirt around the fact that we were in worse danger than he could possibly imagine?

"That's the thing," I rubbed my thighs, clenching my fists as I did so. "The timing is just right. He planned it perfectly so that his Will would be read at the exact moment he needed it to be."

Jak eyed me, his hand slowly falling from his face. His frustrated look and clenched jaw told me that he knew I wouldn't be saying much more about it.

"I can tell by your deadpan expression that there's a bigger reason Krew has chosen this specific date, and you won't be saying anything more about it until after it happens." Jak was utterly monotone, knowing me all too well. "I can assume that Krew will force us into doing his bidding, and that's what you've been unable to prevent. Which can only mean we are, in fact, in deep shit. And I'm going to be a very, very infuriated man."

I clasped my hands together in my lap. "Uh-huh."

"And there's nothing we can do to stop it?"

"No." I confirmed. "I've tried everything. Searched the future for other paths but...this is one we need to take. It'll bring us out on a better side."

Jak nodded, pursing his lips. His eyes flashed, purple electricity sparking within his irises before they flickered to mine. He then rose to his feet, reaching his hand to me.

"I've had about enough fury in my life to feed the poor." He said gutterally. "Instead of being mad right now about something that hasn't happened yet, I intend to feel good for the next few hours while our child isn't home."

He yanked me to my feet, then swung me up into his arms bridal-style.

"Oh?" I blinked in surprise, folding my arms around his neck.

"Even just a few days away from you was torture." He raised his eyebrows at me, his hands gripping tighter. "If it's all right, I want to make up for that lost time. Specifically, in our bedroom." He tilted his face down, grazing his nose over my own. "In our empty apartment. Where we can be as loud as we want."

I internally shivered, closing my eyes.

"Okay." I breathed, and almost immediately, he hungrily crashed his lips to mine, carrying me down the hallway with a determined gait.

It was as if he'd never left.

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Somewhere on the west side of Kras City...

"Roberta," a man drawled as he watched his redheaded right-hand approach, "I assume you've taken a liking to the new gig?"

Roberta smiled anxiously and nodded, trying to show her boss she was happy, when she was actually terrified and desperate to stay alive. Even if it meant spinning herself around a pole to entertain the men and women of this crime-ridden city.

The west side, plagued by destitution and slum lords owning the streets, hadn't always been this awful. Not when Roberta and her boss first arrived earlier that year. It was cleaner, quieter, and in some ways, quite fun. It felt like a new start, even though this "new start" began with covering up the murder of her previous boss, who'd been killed by his own son. His own son, and the man that stood before her.

That was their little secret though, Robbie thought, as she placed her boss's whiskey onto the table in front of him. She gazed at him playfully over her thick-rimmed glasses, feeling sick to her stomach at the way he gazed back at her. She must've been a damn good actress to get him to believe that she wanted him. His hand glided up her thigh to her bare ass beneath her striptease skirt. She bit her lip in an effort not to cry out and prayed he'd go no further. She'd gone this long without him touching her more than this, and she refused to let anything more happen. She was no longer the same innocent, little mouse she was before she helped murder an old man.

The Precursor's were on her side, because he smiled and dropped his hand.

"It suits you. Dancing, of course. Not the stripping. Though, I mean no disrespect." He grinned widely. "Although, I do enjoy watching you strip. You look like a dirty little librarian up on that stage."

"Thank you, Mi—" She'd almost slipped. "Thanks, Blitz." She had recovered. He'd almost killed her the last time she used his real name in public.

Blitz tossed back his drink and adjusted the blond wig that covered his entirely bald, tattooed head. With the wig, he almost looked friendly, as opposed to the psychopath she'd was accustomed to seeing.

"I told you I'd take care of you." He rose to his feet, tightening his violet suit jacket around him. "You've gone from being a waitress at my first restaurant, to being bartender at my first nightclub, to now managing this place and being a wonderful den mother the beautiful girls and guys who live to perform every day and night of the week." He leaned in and kissed her cheek softly. "I'm proud of you, my little she-wolf. Your pack adores and respects you. You're an alpha to them. That respect is the most important thing."

"I aim to please." She murmured seductively, hating the way her own voice sounded as the phrase left her lips.

"That's right, Robbie." Blitz laughed and winked as he backed away from her. "You do. And soon enough, my empire will grow to the point of no return. This city will be mine. These people and their lives will be mine. With the money we have and the opportunities given, I'll be unstoppable ,and you'll be able to have whatever your cold, precious heart desires."

He pulled out a cigarette and stuck it into his mouth. He whipped his lighter out and flicked it, inhaling the now-burning stogie. "I'll see you later, sweetheart."

Robbie smiled cheerily and waggled her fingers, waving until the rat bastard was out the door and out of sight.

"Goddamned arrogant fuck." She growled, snatching the empty glass off the table. "I swear to the Precursors..."

"Is G.T. gone?" A small voice said from behind her. A short brunette youth, no older than seventeen years, peered into the office from the hallway with his wide, blue eyes.

Roberta sighed and followed him into the hall. "He's gone, Sweetie."

Sweetie sighed, mussing his brown locks. "Good. Hell, I get anxiety every time he walks in. How do you do it, Robbie?" He accompanied to her dressing room. "How do you put up with his shit?"

Robbie closed the privacy door behind the two of them and pressed her back against it. "I won't be for much longer."

Sweetie narrowed his eyes at her. "Why? Are you quitting the club?"

"Oh, Callum." She shook her head, dragging out the syllables of his true name. She reached out to touch his cheek affectionately. "I'd never leave you or the others. I hate to say it, but Good Graphics is my home. You've all become family to me."

"T-Then what do you mean, you won't be putting up with G.T. for much longer?" Callum whispered, eyebrows low.

"I mean," Robbie pinched his cheek excitedly, "I'm going to destroy that cocksucker if it's the last thing I ever do." She released Callum and approached her vanity. She switched the bulb lights on, illuminating her pretty face.

Callum stood behind Robbie, taking a hesitant step forward. He watched her with a determined look set in his square jaw. The two of them locked eyes, and he smiled malevolently.

"How can I be of assistance?"

A smile crossed Robbie's face, as she processed what he meant by this. For once, she'd get what she wanted in life. For once, she'd fight back without repercussion.

Finally, she'd be set free.

JDJDJDJDJDJDJDJDJDJDJDJDJDJDJDJDJDJDJDJDJ

A/N:

I hope you all enjoyed! This one was a little short for two reasons:

1. I've been SO freaking busy with my publisher regarding my first book (which will be out January 2019!), plus I've been hard at work wrapping up the sequel.

2. The next chapter is the actual start of the Jak X game, and I wanted to give that chapter special attention!

I know...excuses, excuses. But I love you all and I'm still here. Hope you stick around!

~RyJo