Chapter Text
Portland, 1980
NOTHING BUT DARKNESS. It was all that Tommy could see. He tried to keep his footing steady, but the last blow had taken a toll on him. From his head down to his shoulders, he felt the throbbing pain of the beatings he received while he was lying in a fetal position on the ground.
“What the–”
He felt something cold and heavy in his hand. His fingers were wrapped around it, grasping it, its chilling surface sticking to his thick palms. Heavy, it was, and when he tried to lift his arm, his numb limbs felt the weight of the object, straining and pulling them down. His shoulders were tired, fucking sore, yet miraculously he was still carrying it, hands clenching all over the frigid grip.
Tommy slowly opened his eyes. It was hazy, though not for long, and eventually, his vision adjusted. Something was in front of his face, falling from his head, toward his eyes. Red, likewise, was his vision. A combination of sinister black and crimson overwhelmed his perspective. He had the urge to look down at his hands and saw the same.
There was blood everywhere.
A warm, metallic taste lingered on his tongue, urging him to spit on the ground. A gaping wound, like a slash or a cut, gushed more red fluid. It was fucking terrible. He tried to take a step forward, yet, his legs faltered upon the first attempt, almost tripping him down, so he stood still in his place. Using his free hand, the one with a cut, he wiped the dampness on his eyes with the back of his hand but to no avail. It got even worse. His eyes trained on his surroundings, and from his left to right, he saw them. Bodies splayed all around. Dead.
Then he remembered.
“It’s important that you kill him, Tommy. This is our only chance.”
He agreed. Sonny gave him a gun. A pistol, fit enough for his hand. He was good at using it. Near or far, he would surely hit.
“Bowen’s gonna take Margarette again, Tommy. You don’t want that to happen, do you? He must be ended.”
Sonny tapped his shoulder.
“You’re the best hitman I have. After this, you’ll be a made man.”
His words sounded promising… so promising that Tommy risked his life for it.
It was the dead of the night when he arrived in Harwood, the crisp air of Liberty City after the rain filling the space with petrichor. He could feel the ground below him drenched by the puddles – the leftovers of the torrential rain that ravaged in the early evening. The occasional blaring of car horns from the nearest road could not defeat the boisterous chirping of crickets in the barren land on the edge of the mound, up the hill, overlooking Portland Beach where dilapidated cars awaited their destruction in the junkyard. The stillness welcomed him, and he thought he was alone until he saw the man. He was tall, with long sideburns that lined his cheeks, smoking a cigarette and leaning on a wall of an abandoned shed. No one else was there. No one else was supposed to be there but him.
Turning in his direction, Tommy knew that the man noticed him. Bowen Sindacco. The fastest racer in town. Next to Johnny, the limp guy, an heir to an enemy crime family. The man was gone for many years… eight, he supposed? Tommy didn’t know where Margarette was, but he thought the Don must know. Sonny was just protecting his sister, wasn’t he?
In the dark, Bowen looked at him seemingly not feeling threatened at all. The man threw the stick on the ground and crushed it under the sole of his shoe, the murky stench fading in an instant. Tommy knew that Bowen was aware of why he was there, and though he was sent to kill him, the man looked at him with calmness.
“Look, kid, I’m not looking for tro–”
Then, it happened. A blow to his head. As the throbbing pain shot up in his skull, Tommy turned around to see who it was, but another strike to his face, an object that felt like a steel rod, took him down. He felt the ringing in his ears, dominating all his senses until he felt another hit in his gut. One kick turned to multiple feet taking their turns, stifled yet seemingly wrathful grunts surrounding him. There were many. Seven? He was able to open his eyes and count them first. Then came another. And another. Until he lost count.
The man… Bowen. He wasn’t one of them.
Someone tried to knock him in with a barrel of whatever weapon in his face, hitting him in the nose. Tommy remembered when Joey Leone, that smug son of Salvatore Leone, threw a punch to his face after their squabble in Chinatown. He made sure to give back the same blows twice, ending with the guy in the hospital for a few days and him being hunted down by men in suits.
“You’re brave, Tommy. We need men like you.”
A definite groan of anguish escaped his lips along with sputters of blood as someone gutted him again, tasting nothing but the blood’s bitterness combined with the turbidity of the wet earth that inevitably went through his open mouth. He felt a rib or two break. He was certain about it. A stomp on his head, another kick on his spine, a heavy set of feet stepping on the jut of his hip… Tommy could not fight back. His head was bludgeoned, shoulders, legs, the whole of his body. The only thing he was able to do to protect himself, which somehow lengthened the remaining life he still had, was to curl on the ground, shielding his face from the beating, avoiding as much as possible for the soles of their hard shoes to strike his nose one more time and finally drive him to unconsciousness.
Knife. One of them pulled out a knife and tried to stab him on the ground, but he lifted his left hand and took the blade, the weapon penetrating through the muscles, bones, and ligaments of his palm. He felt it tear his nerves, but the pain it caused seemed nothing. It was just tantamount to the pang he was experiencing in his whole body.
It fell. They were enjoying it, but it fell. It must be what they used to strike him on the nose. He felt the strap land on his left hand lying dead on the dirt. It acted on its own. His hand. He grabbed the strap. He pulled it closer to his body… dragging it. The object etched on the soil as it went to him. Too late when they realized it. In a millisecond, he was already holding the grip.
With one last push, Tommy turned around, lying flat on his back while he held the rifle up.
He pulled the trigger.
“This is the police! Drop your weapon!”
He jerked up from his spot. As his mouth closed, he felt something inside his mouth, prompting him to spit again. A molar tooth, the rancid taste of dried blood, and grainy soil. He didn’t want to let it go. He could still lift it and pull the trigger again, but something inside was telling him it was enough of the fight. Reluctantly, he let go of the grip, the rifle falling from his hand as the strap slid on his arm, down to the ground.
“Put your hands above your head! Now!”
Slowly, he bent his limbs – they were fucking painful. Weakly, he put them over his head. His hair was wet, too. Sweat. Blood. The icy air blew on his skin, sending shivers down his probably broken spine.
“Get down on your knees!”
Somebody held his shoulders and pushed him to the ground, and Tommy just obliged. Red and blue lights flickered all around, men in uniform pointing their guns at him. Sirens blasted in the middle of the night, and he could do nothing but surrender himself. He was alone. He was ambushed. He was betrayed.
Bowen? Sonny?
“How many are they?”
“Eleven, chief!”
“Does he have a company?!”
“No, chief. He’s alone!”
“All of them? This bloke killed all of them?!”
“Apparently, sir. There were no signs of others’ intervention. This was the weapon.”
The rifle glared at him menacingly from the ground. The lifeless instrument of destruction he brought to sentience when he pulled the trigger.
“Fuckin’ massacre! He slaughtered them all!”
As an officer grabbed his hands and twisted them toward his back, he felt the handcuffs clicking around his wrists, and Tommy could do nothing but just close his eyes and give in to the pain that overwhelmed both his head and his chest…
TOMMY PURSED HIS lips. While he listened, he watched the news about the explosion on Callahan Bridge. The report said that the passage was unusable for a while, isolating Portland from the rest of the metropolis. He found himself raising a brow as he saw the footage of the explosion’s aftermath. The bridge collapsed, cut into half, and the whole foundation in the middle crumbled to the ground, covering its nearby surroundings with dust and gravel.
“Damn, you did that bridge well,” he snickered as he leaned his back on the seat, popping a piece of gum into his mouth. “You sure you don’t wanna come here yet?”
He grabbed the remote control and changed the channel, and as he did, he couldn’t help but hiss and shake his head. Every network was showing the same fucking news. He wanted to watch something else, but Liberty City was so attention-seeking that it reeked all media centers at the moment. Donald Love was certainly making a lot of money, wasn’t he?
“I told you. I can’t at the moment.”
“Look…” Tommy turned the television off to stop all the noise. He lifted his feet onto the desk before him. “You said you needed a job. I’m offering you a job. I can even give you a better place to stay–”
“I need to look for her.”
Tommy wanted to argue more, but it was something he certainly could not defeat him with. He breathed a heavy sigh that flared through his nose, which he was sure that his friend had heard on the other end. “You need money?”
“I’ll tell you if I need your help.”
“Then, why are you calling me? Just to say you miss me?” He grinned. “Come on, just say it.”
“Fuck you, Tommy.”
His laughter resounded in the office. His friend’s responses were always an amusement to him. However, he knew he was being serious. He wouldn’t be leaving Liberty City, not because he couldn’t, but because he didn’t want to. Hunting mode. That was what he was at the moment.
“Well, ring me up again if you need any help.”
“Will do. Thank you.” Then, he hung up.
Tommy tossed the phone back in the drawer and pushed it to close. Pressing his knuckles on his chin, he stared ahead, trained at nowhere, thinking of how his friend’s situation had been so similar to his in the past. Six years ago. He couldn’t imagine it had been that long and how his life had... changed.
Notes:
This is in reference to the life of Tommy Vercetti prior to the 1986 – original timeline, where he was ambushed in a mission in Harwood and killed eleven men single-handedly (GTA Vice City).
Thank you for reading! <3
Chapter Text
Vice City, 1995
THE BLINKING LIGHTS of Marco’s Bistro shone on the dark parking lot where three to four cars were harbored. Tommy stepped out of the cab, holding an old backpack where all his things were stuffed after he was set free that morning, finally departing from the State Penitentiary after fifteen long years. The air that went through his nose down to his lungs was different – free and fresh, unlike the damp, congesting, and strangling whiff in prison.
Everything felt different and nearly defiant to him. He swallowed the lump in his throat as he stepped into the foyer, welcoming himself into the lounge of the restaurant. The bartender saw him and pointed him to the back of the kitchen. He walked past the counter without saying anything.
Seeing the door to Sonny’s office and the light that emanated from it threw him back to the last memory he had been there. That night. It always made him regret answering Sonny’s distress call. If he hadn’t, he would have not been told to go to Harwood. He would not have met the man. He would not have been forced to kill those bastards. Although almost reluctant, Tommy inched toward the office when he was compelled to stop behind the doorway as he heard murmuring sounds. Peering into the small gap, he watched and listened to the conversation, much to his dismay and fury.
“Tommy Vercetti, huh…” Sonny scoffed. “I didn’t think they’d ever let him out.” He picked up the shot glass on the table and poured himself a decent amount of brandy.
“He kept his head down, helps people forget,” someone said whose voice Tommy hardly recognized.
Shaking his head, Sonny drained the shot glass and slammed it on the table. He picked up a thick roll of tobacco and put it in his mouth, though it was just dangling and unlit. “People will remember soon enough. When they see him walking down the street of their neighborhoods. It will be bad for business.”
Clenching his fists, Tommy could barely do anything to defend himself. It had been so long, long enough for him to forget how it felt to be in the Family. He was an outcast. Forgotten. Neglected. He was surprised when he got off death row. He heard that it was Sonny’s doing, yet he felt something was off.
“Well, what are we gonna do, Sonny?”
“We treat him like an old friend and keep him busy out of town.”
“Okay.”
The Don picked up a lighter and struck its sparkwheel, blazing up the tobacco. “We’ve been talking about expanding down South, right? Vice City is 24-carat gold these days…” he puffed a cloud of smoke and tapped the stick’s end on the rims of the ashtray. “The Colombians, the Mexicans, hell, even those Cuban refugees are cutting themselves a piece of some nice action.”
“But it’s all drugs, Sonny. None of the families will touch that shit!”
“Times are changing. The families can’t keep their backs turned while our enemies reap the rewards. So, we send someone down to do the dirty work for us and cut ourselves a nice quiet slice, okay? Who’s our contact down there?”
“Ken Rosenberg, schmuck of a lawyer. How’s he gonna hold Vercetti’s leash?”
Tommy was feeling the urge to show himself and smash the head of the man who said that. What the fuck does he think about me? A beast? Hell yeah.
Sonny shook his head. “We don’t need him to. We just set him loose in Vice City, we give him a little cash to get started. Okay?” Everybody went silent, but the Don continued. “Give it a few months. Then we go down, pay him a little visit, right? See how he’s doing.”
Never had Sonny Forelli spoken about him that way whenever he was around. The Don’s words burned a mark on his chest. He felt like he was being disposed of like trash that had no value to the Family at all. Tommy knew that partaking in the business occurring in the South was a huge gamble, so he could not fathom why Sonny was so willing to put a foot down and even disperse some amount. Was he really that desperate to clean up the Family’s name now that Tommy was free?
“Anyway, have you heard?” the unfamiliar man spoke once again. “Bowen’s son’s in Liberty City.” He slid something on the table – a photo, toward Sonny. “Sources said he’s with a woman, doing some crime and shit.”
The Don jeered as he picked the photo, almost coughing at the smoke he had in his mouth. “He won’t last in LC.”
“They said it’s been five years, took us some time to trace him back here.”
“Really?” Sonny huffed, tossing the photo back to the unfamiliar man. “We’ll deal with him soon. For now, we deal with–”
“Hey, look who’s here!”
Tommy did not notice Franco Forelli standing behind him. Sonny’s younger brother, even younger than him. The boy who always clung to Margarette’s side when he was young. His hand patted Tommy’s shoulder and coaxed him to enter the office, showing him to Sonny and the rest of the Family. The Don’s face looked clearly aghast, perhaps, the realization that he might have been listening to the conversation the whole time struck him. Clearing his throat, Sonny stood from his seat and went around the table, reaching out his hand to Tommy for a shake.
“I’m glad you’re back.” Sonny grabbed his hand that hung on the side and firmly shook it. “We’re just talking about you. How’s my greatest soldato, huh?”
He kept a straight face, though a nerve or something twitched on the side of his lips. “Happy to make it out, Sonny.”
Sonny chuckled as if he had not been badmouthing him earlier. He draped his arm over Tommy’s shoulder, pulling him close and shaking him slightly. “That’s the Vercetti I know! Listen, pal, we’ve prepared something for you. You gotta get down to business already. Think you can handle it?” The Don’s question was so cheerful that it annoyed the hell out of him.
Tommy couldn’t stop the snide, torturous smile forming on his lips. He was certain that he scoffed, but at least, he got it stifled. Asking him if he could handle whatever the fuck they wanted him to do was a full blow to his face. Every command, in just a snap of a finger, Tommy would follow no matter how impossible. He should have listened to Margarette before when she told him he shouldn’t follow everything that Sonny said. It was what caused his imprisonment and near execution, to say the least… because he was ready to do everything.
The woman knew better.
“I will, Sonny,” he answered. “I can.”
“Very well!” the Don responded almost instantly. “You’re off to a big mission, Tommy. And I trust you’ll make the Family proud, eh?”
When Tommy arrived that afternoon at Escobar International Airport with Harry and Lee, two other soldatos of the Family, he had not talked or made any sound. He was still pissed off, partly because of the emotions that overwhelmed him after his a-decade-and-a-half incarceration, his discovery of his father’s old printing shop’s condition – now demolished, his estranged, hateful mother gone with the wind, and the conversation he had overheard before he was disposed to the South.
Carrying with him the briefcases of cash, Tommy stepped out of the gates of the airport and waited on the deck along with Harry and Lee.
Serving the Family since he was a young, teenage boy was no joke. Initially, he wanted to follow in his father’s footsteps; he was helping him in cleaning the rollers in his printing shop somewhere in Chinatown and preparing himself to take over the business. His mother, on the other hand, was not someone he was on good terms with. She would always belittle him, his father would never defend him, and he would plant another thistle of hatred. Now that he was free, he wasn’t expecting her to welcome him with open arms. He couldn’t be more right.
He never felt he had a family until he met Sonny Forelli. When he saw him fighting some thugs and beating the shit out of them without a weapon in front of his father’s printing shop, the Don took him in and gave him a head start as a bodyguard to his elder sister, Margarette. She was a sweet woman bound to a wheelchair, almost motherly, and she always told him about her son. He didn’t know if she was just having illusions just like what Sonny always told him, the reason why the brothers put her in a hospice shortly after.
Sonny became fond of him. At the age of eighteen, two years after getting absorbed into the Forelli Crime Family, he had proven himself to the point that he became its youngest soldato. His future was promising, that was what Sonny told him.
Yet, everything just went to waste that fateful night.
Now, he was sent to the South, not allowed to go back until Sonny let him, in order to avoid reminding the people of his presence. He slew eleven men on his own, with a single weapon, while they were beating him up with the intent to kill. He thought he was going to die, but it seemed like neither heaven nor hell wanted his soul, and when the rifle landed on the ground, his mind went blank. Convicted of eleven counts of murder, he was sentenced to death, only for his verdict to be reduced to fifteen years after the Family helped him out.
“Hey, hey, guys! It’s uh, Ken Rosenberg here!”
Tommy was snapped out of his thoughts when a man, ruffled curly hair, eyeglasses, purple suit, got out of a White Admiral, waving his hand at them. The lawyer that Sonny was talking about. He was enthusiastic, but his fervor was not reciprocated by him or Harry and Lee. At first, he spoke with ease and vigor, but Tommy kept his mouth shut and his eyes trained somewhere else. Eventually, Ken Rosenberg began stuttering, seemingly realizing that he was not interested in any small talk.
“Well, uh, I’m gonna drive you guys to the meet, okay? Now, I’ve talked to the suppliers and they’re very keen to start a business relationship, so, uh, if all goes well, we should, uh, be doing very nicely for ourselves, which is, you know… good!”
Harry and Lee immediately got in the car, apparently ignoring everything that Ken Rosenberg was blabbering about. Tommy followed shortly, and he likewise acted as if the talking man was not there. He didn’t have the patience for courtesies and social interactions.
Ken Rosenberg climbed back into the driver’s seat. “Okay, so, they’re brothers, okay. One operates the uh, the business, and the other does the flying…” He talked throughout the journey, and Tommy was sure that the lawyer was already getting on Harry’s and Lee’s nerves because that was exactly what he felt at the moment. Nonetheless, he tried to focus somewhere else. He pulled the window down in the backseat and looked around the town. Vice City was remarkably more vibrant than Liberty City. It was more beautiful, with more interesting establishments, and when he saw a huge poster of a brunette in a pink swimsuit with a martini, he couldn’t help but snicker.
So long, so long.
The trip to the city’s harbor, Viceport, didn’t take them much time. It was just a few turns from the airport, and the place, unlike the roads to the landing fields, was heavily industrialized. Huge containers, cargo ships, cranes, and other machines and vehicles pertinent to harbor business crowded the area. The noise… it was more deafening than anything else. Horns, sirens, and the revving engines from the freighter ships and trucks boomed relentlessly.
When they reached the edge of the harbor, Ken parked the White Admiral near the steel fences. He kept the engine turned on, saying that the trade would be as quick as lightning. He still talked and talked, oblivious as shit. Tommy felt close to slamming Ken’s face against the steering wheel when, from afar, he saw a chopper approaching.
“Okay, that’s them in the chopper,” Ken said as he faced them in the backseat. “All right, here’s the deal. They want a straight exchange on open ground. All right?” He pointed to the opening in the middle.
The chopper landed seamlessly on the port, its rotor blades creating a twister of wind that overwhelmed the place. A black man with a waning hairline and a thick mustache in an orange shirt and beige pants came down the aircraft, carrying two attache cases. The other person, who, according to Ken was the man’s brother, remained in the chopper. Tommy couldn’t see his face from the car.
“Okay. Stay tight, let’s go,” Harry said. Lee and Tommy got out of the car simultaneously. Tommy went first – he was the frontman.
“Got it?” he immediately asked the man from the chopper, wasting no time.
“One hundred percent pure grade-A Colombian, my friend.”
“Let me see it,” Tommy reiterated. The man opened the cases he was carrying and revealed packs of white powder neatly stacked with each other. After a few seconds of viewing, he shut them close.
“And the greens?” Glancing at Harry and Lee, the two men opened the briefcases and showed the money.
“Tens and twenties, used.”
The man from the chopper smiled widely, obviously pleased with the transaction. “I think we have a deal, my friend.”
That was it. Done. Transaction made and closed. Tommy felt relieved and redeemed, and now, he had something to brag about to Sonny. They were handing the merchandise to each other, when, out of nowhere, somebody shot Harry who was standing beside him.
“Oh shit!”
Tommy ducked down and kept his head on the ground, his hands covering his skull, but Lee was also shot including the man from the chopper. The instinct to get out of that place alive was stronger than getting the deal finished, and so instead of grabbing the briefcases of drugs and money, Tommy ran toward the White Admiral, jumping in through the opened window in the backseat.
“Get on, get out of here! Drive!” he exclaimed at Ken, the latter in a state of panic. The lawyer pushed the gear forward and floored hard on the pedal, skidding away from the dock. The chopper had also departed as soon as the shooting began.
Shouting curses about how afraid he was to be chased by the perpetrators, Ken kept up the speed of the car to a maximum, and in his anxiety, he would have almost hit an oncoming truck if Tommy had not steered the wheel to the left, causing them to drift on the pavement and stop at the middle of the road.
Trembling, Ken took his hands off the steering wheel and whimpered. “I poke my head out of the gutter for one freakin’ second and fate shovels shit on my face!” he cried, palpably shaken by what happened in the port.
“Get out of there, let me drive!”
They shifted places and Ken jumped into the backseat, pulling up the window while keeping his head down. Tommy slammed his foot on the pedal and drove toward Washington Beach upon the lawyer’s instructions, and though he was calmer than his companion, he couldn’t shake his dread either. He had just gotten out of prison. He had just been given another fucking headstart. And now, he lost the drugs, he lost the money, and he definitely lost his mind.
Sonny will fucking kill me.
A three-story Spanish-style hotel with pink stucco exterior walls facing the direction of Washington Beach lay before his eyes. Ken pointed to the alleyway beside it, a tight space confined between the hotel and another high-rise building, telling him to park the car there.
As he pulled over in the alleyway, he started unlocking the door. “Go get some sleep.”
“What are you gonna do?” Ken Rosenberg asked, palpably afraid of the recent threat to their lives.
There was nothing much Tommy could do at the moment. He was equally frustrated at what happened, and he felt like circumstances were playing with him. This was supposed to be his new beginning – indeed, it was. A beginning to another fucking whirlwind of a shithole.
He spotted a Faggio, a small scooter in the alleyway. “Is that yours?”
“Y-Yes, why?”
“I’ll drop by your office tomorrow and we can start sorting this mess out,” he said as he took the bike without waiting for the lawyer’s approval and drove away. While he passed by the vibrant establishments toward the Ocean Beach area where his hotel accommodation was, he thought about how to tell Sonny what happened.
Tommy had to report, whether he liked it or not, and he had to accept whatever the fuck Sonny would tell him right after.
The Ocean View Hotel was a four-story inn with an exquisite view of Ocean Beach, though its external design was not so appealing. The paint was pale white and yellow, with a few growing plants on the mini-garden in front, a five-step staircase, and a glass door. Inside, however, was a dark, intricate, and empty lobby. He went straight to his deluxe room on the third floor, which was a studio-type chamber with gray and white paint and shutters.
Tommy loathed every minute he stayed in that hotel.
After taking a hot shower, he composed and convinced himself that he had to call Sonny. He sat on the bed, still damp, with only a bath towel covering the lower part of his body. Reluctantly, he picked up the phone on the bedside table and dialed a number. It rang just about twice, and the person he wanted to talk to immediately picked it up.
“Hello, Sonny,” he muttered under his breath.
“Tommy, Tommy! I know, I know. You’re just overwhelmed with emotions. Fifteen years. Seems only like yesterday.”
It always irked him how Sonny talked as if what happened to him was not something he should worry about. “I guess that’s a perspective thing,” he retorted, trying to keep his temper under control.
“Hey, doing time for the Family’s no piece of cake, but the Family looks after its own, okay?” Sonny countered. “So, how’d the deal go down, you sittin’ on some white gold?”
Something choked his throat. Tommy could not find the right words to say. He took deep breaths and closed his eyes before he spoke once again.
“Look, Sonny. We were set up. The deal was an ambush. Harry and Lee are dead.”
He couldn’t catch every single word Sonny had said, but he was sure he heard a fuck you, bastard, asshole, piece of shit, and all the colorful words he had expected from him.
“You better be kidding me, Tommy! Tell me you still got the money!”
“No, Sonny. I don’t have the money.”
Another round of superfluous vocabulary tortured his ears. It was inevitable. He knew. He knew it very well.
“That was my money, Tommy. My money! You better not be screwing me, Tommy, because you know I’m not a man to be screwed with.”
“You have my personal assurance I’m gonna get your money back and the drugs, and I’m gonna mail you the dicks of those responsible!” His chest was on fire. He couldn’t take the fury or the insult any longer.
“Hey, I already know that. You’re not a fool, Tommy, but I warn you. Neither am I. If it was anybody else, you’d be dead already. But because it’s you, because we got history I’m gonna let you handle this.” The Don was breathing erratically, every air he puffed could be clearly heard on Tommy’s end.
“You’ve got my word,” he promised. He meant it, and he wouldn’t stop until those who were responsible for what happened could pay.
“I’ll be in touch,” Sonny said faintly, and the call got disconnected.
Right after Sonny dropped the call, Tommy felt a surge of anger cascading within. Head throbbing in pain and chest tightening in sheer exasperation, Tommy stood and shouted, grabbing the phone and throwing it to the floor. The device broke into pieces, causing a loud thud and crash on the ground, but Tommy did not care. He felt his eyes sting and dragged his hands through his hair, nearly yanking on the strands. An urge to punch the mirror before him struck, but realizing that breaking the hotel’s property would do him more harm than good, he just slumped back onto the bed once again and wiped his hands over his face in utmost disappointment.
With the money, the drugs, and his reputation at stake, Tommy professed that he wouldn’t let himself down this time, and no more insults from Sonny would ever get through to him. No more.
TOMMY LOOKED AT the piles of cash that Marcus and Leigh placed on his desk last night. The transaction they had with the Sharks proved to be successful, but looking at millions did not excite him anymore, unlike before. Years ago, he was dying to claim those back by putting his life on the line. Now, he did not care how much he spent because they kept on coming in no matter what.
The sudden ringing of his phone in the drawer rattled him, snapping him out of his daydreaming. Who would be calling his personal number at a very early hour? Opening the drawer, he retrieved the device and looked at the screen, seeing the rather unexpected call from a very unexpected person. He found himself grinning at the sight of his friend’s name. He pressed the button and immediately put the phone to his ear.
“Finally, I thought you were already dead,” he snickered.
“You wish,” the person said with a light scoff. “Your offer’s still up?”
“Uh-huh,” he approvingly mumbled. The last time they talked, his friend was blatantly refusing every offer he gave – job, shelter, money – and now, he was calling and asking if his offer was still on the table. To be fair, he did say he would contact him when he needed assistance, but Tommy couldn’t help but wonder what made him change his mind. Raising his feet and putting them on his desk, Tommy leaned his back against the chair. “What makes you suddenly so interested, hm?”
“We gotta get out of LC.”
“We? Who are you with?”
“Someone… important.”
Tommy reached for the mason jar of gum on the table and took a piece. He popped the candy into his mouth. “Always welcome. My suite’s been prepared for at least a month now. You tired of running after ‘em?”
There was silence. Tommy could hear the faint sounds of the waves splashing and the squawking of birds.
“Off-topic, Tommy. But if you still want me to work–”
“Of course! I do! When are you coming?”
“Today, we’re leaving LC.”
Curling his lips downward, Tommy nodded in approval. “I’ll get your room ready. Anything you need?”
“Nothing. We’re good. I’ll see you there.”
“Alright,” Tommy excitedly said as he put his feet down once again, resting his elbows on the table. “See you soon, Speed…”
Notes:
This is in reference to In the Beginning and An Old Friend (GTA Vice City), and to Chapter 31: Leaving All Behind of The Reaper Man.
The dialogues used in the flashback in this chapter mainly were fleshed out from the missions in an attempt to novelize the scenes. I do not take credit for any of these.
And because it was my OC's birthday last Friday, I'm uploading two chapters this week!
Thank you for reading! <3
Chapter Text
Vice City, 1995
WHEN TOMMY CAME back to Ken’s office the day after the ambush, he was once again welcomed by the lawyer’s senseless rhetorics. As much as he had hated him, he had no choice – it was either he would go to him or he would wait for Sonny to take his head in exchange for the money and drugs he had lost.
Ken kept on pacing back and forth, and despite telling him that he had to get some sleep the other night, it seemed like he was fully awake in the past hours. His eyes were burning red, his clothes were pungent and wrinkled, and his hair which was already ruffled looked like he had battled against the demons in his head.
“Can you just sit down? You’re freaking me out,” Tommy said as he took the chair in front of Ken’s desk. On the table, he saw a foil, a straw, and little remnants of white powder.
The restless lawyer sat on his desk and scratched his head. "There's this retired Colonel, Colonel Juan Garcia Cortez. He's the one that helped me set up this deal well away from Vice City's established thugs…”
“So?”
Ken was vigorously shaking his head. “Okay? Now, listen. He's holding his party out in the bay on his expensive yacht and all of Vice City's big players are gonna be there. Okay? I have an invite, of course, I have an invite, but there's no way that I'm going out there, sticking my head out the door - no way! Not gonna hap–"
“Shut up! I'll go myself...” Tommy stood annoyingly and was about to leave the office when the lawyer called him out again.
“Y-You can’t go there like that!”
“Like what?!”
“Your c-clothes! You have to be attired properly!” Ken stood and went behind his desk, retrieving a card and giving it to him. “Go there… uhm, Rafael’s Clothing Store. It’s just a few turns from here. Okay? Take my suit. Wear it. You gotta make a good impression!”
Tommy rolled his eyes, and if it would be possible for him to pull his eyeballs out, he would. He was exasperated. He had not even had the chance to recuperate, to reflect, to rest… and now he had to deal with someone else’s problem.
“Keys.”
“What?”
“Your keys to the white Admiral you drove last night.”
“But, Tommy, you got my Fag–”
“You want me to make an impression, right?” He went up to Ken, chin and head up, glowering down at him. The lawyer seemed to swallow the lump in his throat as he fumbled in his pocket, retrieving the key and giving it to Tommy. Without a word, he snatched it from the lawyer’s trembling hand and stormed out of the office.
If there was a word to describe what he felt right now, it was clear as the sky he was pissed, so pissed that he had to go to a fucking party on a fucking yacht and fucking socialize with fucking people who couldn’t and wouldn’t understand how fucking furious he was.
“Fuck this life, fuck this shit… fuck!” Tommy hissed while slamming his hands on the car’s steering wheel.
He drove to Rafael’s Clothing Store, a shop that stood at the corner of a street south of Hotel Harrison. With a sulking face, he entered the shop, went to the clerk, and tossed the card to claim Ken’s blue suit. The clerk handed him over the suit immediately and watched him with an open mouth as Tommy put on the suit right then and there, taking his shirt and pants off in the middle of the store. The trousers were short, hanging just right above his ankles. He couldn’t do anything but mutter another curse when he found the crotch too tight, making him pull it down often. As soon as he had buttoned up the suit that barely fitted his body, he approached the clerk.
“Do you have a comb?”
“Huh?”
“A comb,” Tommy emphasized.
“We don’t sell combs here, Mister–”
“Then, give me your fucking comb or whatever the hell you got in your bag so that I could fix my fucking hair.”
Tommy left the thunderstruck clerk in the store with a comb, a sachet of gel, and a half-bottle of cologne. He sprayed twice on his neck, then on his wrists, and tossed the bottle afterward into a trash bin. When he got in the car, he pulled down the visor to fix his hair, and he was surprised that small packs of what could have been cocaine fell onto his lap.
That asshole. He grabbed the sachets and quickly stuck them into the dash compartment. He looked at himself in the mirror and brushed his hair with his hands lathered with gel. Without a thought, he wiped the excess cream on his suit. Then, he licked the pad of his thumb and brushed it along his eyebrows.
This should do it.
From the corner where the store was, he turned to Ocean Drive and drove along the highway until he reached the Marina Sands Hotel. Maneuvering to the left, he passed by the driveway in the parking lot where he had seen two gates that led to a pier with only the second one opened. Tommy parked the White Admiral near it and got out in an instant, flipping the suit jacket’s lapels and securing a button near his stomach before walking into the berth.
The yacht was huge. It was extravagant, painted in white, beige, and black, with a wide floor at the top where the party was being held. He walked up the stairs to the deck where he passed by a female server, exchanging sultry looks with her.
Although he looked a bit ragged with his days-old beard, Tommy knew that he caught the server’s attention. He flashed her a devious beam, and he was sure she returned the snicker, and as he watched her vanish among the crowds of people, a rather old man in an army suit approached and greeted him.
“Buenas noches! I understand you’re here on the behalf of Mr. Rosenberg. I hope any recent problems have not affected his health, or uh, mental well-being, Mister?”
“Thomas… Tommy Vercetti. He’s just got a touch of… agoraphobia,” he said while chuckling at the thought.
The man laughed at his statement, amused. “Excellent, excellent. I’m Juan Cortez, the humble host of this party. And you, Mr. Vercetti, how have you been?”
Wasting no time, he immediately got into the business. “I just want my merchandise,” he said, referring to the drug deal ambush that occurred prior to the party.
“Ah. It’s an unfortunate set of circumstances for all involved,” Colonel Cortez responded dimly. “Of course, I have initiated my own lines of inquiry, but such a delicate matter will take time.”
“Of course, Colonel. I’m willing to wait.” But Tommy didn’t mean for long. His temper had already been drained by Ken Rosenberg earlier.
“Amigo, forgive me, but we’ll talk about this later–”
“Daddy, who’s this?”
Turning his head, Tommy saw a beautiful woman coming up beside the colonel. She was wearing a tight-fitting glossy black dress and a pair of long boots. Her jet-black hair with purple highlights flowed freely on her shoulders, and the neckline of her dress divulged her welcoming breasts.
She looked at Tommy from head to toe.
“Oh, Mr. Vercetti. This is my daughter, Mercedes. Caramia, this is Thomas.”
“Tommy. Call me Tommy,” he corrected, regretting why he had even told the colonel about his full name. He hated the sound of it.
“Caramia, could you look after our guest while I attend to my necessary obligations?” the colonel asked while looking at his daughter.
The woman immediately grabbed his arm and slithered against him, much to Tommy’s surprise. “Of course, Daddy! My pleasure.”
Colonel Cortez excused himself right after. While walking, Tommy could not help himself but stare down at her cleavage, which the woman seemed to flaunt nonetheless. Feeling impolite, he averted his eyes, only to feel her pressing his arm on her breasts.
“Mercedes?” Tommy repeated her name to make sure he pronounced it correctly as he tugged his arm quite away.
“You try living with it,” she said, tightening her hold on his limb. “Say, you did something on the way here?”
“Why do you ask?”
She pointed at the stain on his suit. Tommy dipped his chin to check, seeing the faded smear of cream near the lapel. Mercedes grinned.
Realizing what she meant, Tommy felt himself flush, unable to immediately answer.
“It’s okay, I’m fine with that. Don’t worry.” Her breath smelled like honeydew. “I like naughty men.”
“This is a gel,” he retorted, but his lovely companion didn’t seem to care at all.
While Mercedes gave him a tour around the yacht, she told him about the distinguished guests at the party. There was a congressman named Alex Shrub with a starlet Candy Suxxx, who had even bigger and bulging breasts that were obviously implanted. Mercedes also talked about the Vice City Mamba’s star tight-end BJ Smith, a black man with a huge build surrounded by women at the corner of the deck. The topless Love Fist’s lead singer Jezz Torrent lay on a sunlounger while chattering with the colonel’s right-hand man Gonzales, among the others.
Tommy took glasses of wine for them to drink as they leaned on the steel railings and looked over the view.
“Mercedes!”
Out of nowhere, a small, stout, and half-bald man with a generally unpleasantly-shaped mustache came shouting.
“I’m so glad to see you!”
The woman looked petrified, and Tommy felt her grasp around his arm tighten even more. “Oh, I was just taking my friend back into town! Another time, Ricardo!” She tiptoed toward Tommy’s ear. “Let’s get out of here! Actually, take me to the Pole Position Club!”
“My pleasure…” he said, attempting to mimic the way Mercedes said it earlier.
Seemingly forgetting the prime reason why he had gone to the party, Tommy and Mercedes quickly left the yacht and jumped into the White Admiral. As Tommy drove out of the Marina, he wondered why she had wanted, in an instant, to leave her father’s party. Was that Ricardo the reason? Was he pestering her? He wanted to know, but Mercedes took over in speaking.
“Will you be working for my father?”
Tommy didn’t know either. He went there for the failed transaction, to settle his issues about the ambush, but now, he was riding in the car with the colonel’s daughter, heading out to nowhere. “Maybe,” he answered. If Ken was affiliated with Juan Cortez, and if Juan Cortez would help him investigate what happened to the deal, then most probably, he would. But he wasn’t so certain.
After moments of silence, Tommy felt his body flinch when Mercedes placed her hand on his lap. He couldn’t help but look at where her hand was, near the inner… toward the center.
“Do you mind me resting my hand on your lap?”
He couldn’t help but snicker. “Maybe…”
Mercedes proceeded to rant about her father’s business and how it had affected her through the years. She complained that her father would always dictate what she must do, but she was more inclined to liberate herself.
“That Ricardo Diaz?” she asked while peering at him. “I don’t like him. He’s a pervert.”
“Seems like it,” Tommy agreed, finally having the answer to his question.
“It’s so difficult having a rich and powerful father.”
Several minutes later, they stopped in front of a club with neon green and pink lights glimmering in the dark. He was expecting her to just get out as she unbuckled her seatbelt, when all of a sudden, Mercedes grabbed his face and kissed him. Tommy’s eyes gaped in shock, a sudden ripple of warmth spreading between his chest and stomach… down to his loins. He felt her suck the air he breathed, drowning him more with her fiery passion. Her tongue invaded all parts of his mouth, and she devoured his cusps like she had been starving to taste him for a while.
Tommy was surprised, but he didn’t pull away. Who was he to say no? He kissed her back with the same vigor, forcing himself to feel more than that. A touch to her waist made him flare, a little more excited, convincing himself to enjoy the moment. It had been so long since he had kissed someone, let alone had sex.
Their lips parted, and Mercedes looked a bit disappointed that he didn’t do more. She bit his lower lip and asked, her mouth so close to his. “Will I see you again?” She looked at him, her eyes flickering, seemingly begging for him to say yes.
He knew that it wouldn’t be the only thing he and Mercedes would do. The woman was on fire, and he wouldn’t be the one to refuse it. If it meant ending his fifteen-year drought, he was ready to grab every single chance. In those years, he had nothing but his hands, and being locked up in a cell pretty much all alone for more than a decade had made him starve for a real, human touch aside from himself, though that was not what he was really after. His gaze shifted between her eyes and her lips, leaning for a dry peck instead, followed by a mischievous grin on his face.
“I’m sure you will…”
SPANK WAS A fragile and unique merchandise highly coveted by the gangs in Vice City. Tommy had just won in the bidding, and the South Americans were organizing the trade with him. Ken Rosenberg was his middleman, but he didn’t trust that his lawyer friend and business partner could intimidate the dealers. He needed someone to attend the trade with him – be his frontman with Ken Rosenberg in the exchange so that none of what happened to him before would take place. His thoughts drifted back to the assault in Viceport, and though it happened many years back, it still did not make things lighter. He couldn’t be less careful.
Ken’s fingers snapped before him, shaking him out of the daze. The lawyer had been talking for so long, and Tommy didn’t notice that he zoned out. For a few minutes, he could listen to all the details Ken would explain, but the moment his ears got tired of his voice, his attention would fade and train somewhere else… or to nothing at all.
“Are you still listening? Hello, Tommy!” Ken waved his hands before him.
Tommy slapped Ken’s hands away. “I am!” he defended. “I’m just thinking about something.”
Years of dealing with different people taught him plenty of lessons. And many times, though it did not affect his wealth, a part of his money would go missing. Ken was still investigating it, and as his accountant, he had been discovering and reporting more and more amounts getting lost in suspicious transactions and withdrawals. If not an ambush, he had to deal with a thief.
Great.
There was a knock on the door. Tommy turned his head toward it, and he could not contain his delight upon seeing his long-time friend, coming inside his office in Malibu Club.
“Speed!” He found himself standing quickly and approaching him by the door, reaching his hand out.
Claude stretched his arm and shook his hand firmly.
“Is that you, Claude Speed?” Ken asked in amazement.
“I’m sorry Speed,” Tommy said. “I-I don’t really wanna interrupt your vacation. So, how was your stay in the hotel?”
“Pleasant,” Claude answered as bland as he was all the time.
Tommy motioned for his friend to sit on the chair in front of his desk. “Still that callous face, huh? You haven’t changed!” He snickered, unable to contain his excitement. “Now, Speed. Tell me, how have you been?”
“W-Wait, Claude, before anything else,” Ken interrupted, prompting Tommy to roll his eyes. “I want to know how you got out. It’s just been two years. Are you on parole?”
“Escaped.”
“Fantastic,” Tommy commented. “If I had the chance before, I would’ve done that.”
“It’s accidental,” Claude answered. “I didn’t mean it, but I needed to. It was either we die on the bridge or we run away.”
“Isn’t the LCPD looking–”
“Ken,” Tommy interrupted, “for god’s fucking sake, let me talk to him.” He scowled at the lawyer, ultimately shutting him up. “Why don’t you go outside and check the club? Have fun with whoever. We need some time alone.”
The lawyer begrudgingly stepped outside, leaving Tommy and Claude all by themselves. As soon as he was gone, Tommy started talking once again.
“You said you got company?”
“Yeah. I have. I left her in the suite.”
“So, it’s a she…” Tommy raised his eyebrow, looking at his friend insinuatingly. “Moving on?”
“Are we really gonna talk about this?”
“Oh, Speed. Let me tell you something.” Tommy leaned forward, putting his elbows on his desk. “Don’t let yourself get tied up.”
Claude scoffed as he leaned his back on the seat, side-eyeing him. “I’m not like you…”
Tommy could not help his amusement while he watched Claude’s face sour at the story and lecture he told. How he, at his age, could still get anyone he wanted while making sure that all his needs were met. How he, despite having full hands, could still touch anyone he wanted, anytime.
“What’s her name?”
“Reena,” Claude said. “Serena Lane.”
“How’d you meet her?”
“I knew her for a very long time.”
“I thought you never knew anyone!”
Claude seemed not ready to talk about his new partner and the reasons for the sudden change in his plans, so as their conversation turned into something more serious, Tommy decided to discuss with him what he was hiring Claude for – to spearhead the trade in Prawn Island for the Spank.
“Who are we dealing with?” Claude asked him, staring suspiciously.
“South Americans,” Tommy responded. “I’m not sure which South American will be showing their asses off. It’s just a simple trade. That’s all.”
“When?”
“Probably in three weeks,” he muttered, knowing that it might put Claude off.
“The length of time is suspicious, Tommy.”
He was right. “They were having some delays. But it’s sure. Don’t worry about it. And I’ll be there.”
“Whatever you say,” Claude said as he stood and straightened his jacket, preparing to leave. “You have my number. Call me when you need a hand or some ass-saving.”
Tommy laughed, recalling the times that Claude had actually come to his aid. “It’s good to see you, Speed,” he said. “After Catalina shot you, I didn’t expect to see you alive and doing pretty well…”
Claude snarled back at him. “I don’t want you talking about her.”
Shit.
Being the Vercetti he was, Tommy enjoyed intimidating the people around him, especially if they reacted in a challenging way. He didn’t mean to say that, but he wouldn’t be backing down. Sure enough, he expected that response from Claude, feeling his friend’s subtle but fuming glare, and he responded with a snide smile before his friend exited the office. Tommy went back to his desk, settling himself on the leather swivel chair that squeaked as he swayed left to right, legs crossed and chin resting on knuckles. He thought, more than the deal, of his discussion with his friend about his apparently new partner. He wondered what she looked like, although he knew he might see her soon.
Serena Lane, Tommy pondered. If his friend was pining over a woman, she could definitely take him out of focus. He deduced that perhaps, the reason why Claude had not advanced in his revenge was because of her – a distraction.
It had not been long since he was left alone when Ken suddenly busted in, panting and visibly panicking.
“Tommy! You have to come out!”
“What the hell’s happening?”
“It’s…” Ken swallowed. “It’s Claude…”
Without another word, Tommy stood and followed Ken as the lawyer dashed back out, running toward the bar. As soon as he stepped into the pub, he was alarmed when he saw Claude holding up a steel chair, about to hit one of his bouncers in the head.
“Woah, woah, Speed! Stop! Man, what are you doing?!” he cried, raising both of his hands forward.
“Your bouncers are fucking useless!” Claude looked at him, eyes seething in rage, scorching like he was on fire.
“What the fuck…”
Tommy looked around, and there lay before him were five men, three of his bouncers and two strangers, all beaten down. Most of his customers were rushing out of the club, but a few had remained to spectate. Disappointingly, he shook his head and motioned for the others to send the remaining people out.
“Don’t waste your energy up here. This is not LC!” As he looked around him, he wondered why his friend reacted that way. Why, all of a sudden, he was raging and savage, seemingly ready to kill and inflict mayhem on anyone in the club, including his bouncers? Why did he call them useless? Why was there a woman standing at the side, motionless and scared, with torn sleeves and disheveled hair? Why–
Everything went blank to him, however, when he realized who she was. In an instant, he had somehow forgotten that five men were incapacitated in his club, two were still awake yet writhing in pain and three more were all knocked out, with one of them probably bleeding to death. He could not find the right words to describe what he was experiencing, having not felt it before, not even with Mercedes or the other girls he met. Wearing a red dress, standing stiff beside his now-violent friend, eyes twinkling in the dark and glistening with tears, she looked so helpless, so demure, so… mesmerizing.
Things happened so fast – she was just there unmoving, and now, she was already walking away. When Claude turned around and she quickly followed, Tommy wasn’t able to hold his tongue anymore.
“Speed!” he called out, his desire to know the woman was greater than the current situation at hand. “Aren’t you gonna introduce me?”
Claude faced him, palpably furious, and beyond the expressionlessness on his face, Tommy could feel that he was already on the verge of hell.
“I must say, your choice of women is very… unique.” Tommy walked toward the woman who stilled beside his friend, shaking in fear. He reached out his hand, wanting to shake hers. “I’m Tommy Vercetti…”
However, even before he could step further, Claude came up to him and blocked his way. Though Tommy stood higher, he knew that his friend would not yield.
“She’s off-limits.”
He saw how Claude’s jaw clenched. “Alright,” Tommy said, while he walked back, but then he turned to her with a wide smile. “You must be Serena Lane. Speed has said so much about you…” Although, the truth was that Claude had not talked about her to him… yet, aside from her name and a couple of other things.
She didn’t even have the chance to answer his question as Claude snagged her wrist and yanked her out of the club.
Tommy watched them walk out of the club, and he couldn’t help but admit to himself how foolish he was with his first thoughts about her. She glanced back at him, hair bouncing over her bare shoulders, and for a millisecond, Tommy caught a glimpse of something so elusive that made him realize why his friend brought her along with him to Vice City. She was something else – a distraction.
A beautiful distraction.
Notes:
This is in reference to The Party (GTA Vice City), Chapter 32: Meeting an Old Friend, and Chapter 33: Rampage of The Reaper Man.
The dialogues used in the flashback in this chapter mainly were fleshed out from the missions in an attempt to novelize the scenes. I do not take credit for any of these.
Thank you for reading! <3
Chapter Text
EXPANDING HIS BUSINESS in Vice City was Tommy’s number one priority. It had been years since he took control of the metropolis, but new competitors were always ready to take the opportunity. He was not selfish in sharing the city with other entrepreneurs, but he, in particular, had to be the only one to manage the most exclusive and precious merchandise there was – drugs.
By obtaining Spank from the South Americans in Liberty City, he’d secure his footing in the distribution business, and no other groups could ever go against him.
However, as if the world was giving him quite a hard time, the deal with the South Americans turned out to be rough. His friend, Cuban gang leader Umberto Robina, had promised to make amends, but it was not enough. The delay in the merchandise’s delivery would cost him a lot of time and money. Besides, his competitors were like beasts waiting to be unleashed once the transaction failed, particularly the Haitians and the Sharks. He could not give them any window time to spot a chance.
Tommy fretted on his seat, his right leg tapping vigorously as he listened to the dealer on the phone. His teeth were clenched, waiting for the man on the other line to finish talking, but he said a lot of irrelevant things, driving Tommy to his wit’s end.
“I don’t fucking care what’s happening to your business, but I want my Spank.”
“Amigo, we don’t cheat our friends, eh?”
“We're not friends. This is business.”
“Eh, whatever you say. My men will bring your stuff to Prawn Island next month.”
“Another delay? You said three weeks!”
“Lo siento, amigo. Por favor? We promise, no more extensions.”
“Three weeks, that’s final. I don’t want no tricks.” He hung up, slamming the phone on the table.
“Do you trust them?” Ken probed.
Tommy stood, ire wrapping around his head while he paced back and forth. The Spank. He didn’t expect a change would happen. The Cubans were initially dealing with him, and Umberto Robina guaranteed that they’d get the drug seamlessly, but now, they were shifting to a higher organization, making the transactions more complicated.
“This is why I needed Speed,” he said. “They’re gonna try to extort more fuckin’ money from me. I need someone who’ll intimidate the heck out of them.”
Ken scratched his head. “But do you think it’s gonna be fine? We both know they aren’t on good terms.”
Tommy didn’t answer him. Instead, he grabbed his car keys. “I’m going out for a coffee.”
“Won’t you let me come?”
“You’re not someone I want to drink coffee with in the morning.”
Tommy left the estate and drove to Washington Mall, a shopping center on the beach side. In moments like this, he just wanted to be alone and relax in an ambiance without Ken Rosenberg or any other malice. He kept a straight face as he strolled inside the mall, heading for the escalator that led to the lower ground floor where the coffee shop was. Most establishments were still closed, and none of the people he saw were either recognizable or pleasant to the eyes. There was a woman wearing a very short and fitting dress on high heels eyeing him, but he averted his look. Not interested.
Everything was banal and unpleasant, making him think if he made the right decision to leave. Ultimately deciding that the Pole Position Club might be a better place to hang out, Tommy turned around and meant to leave until he saw a familiar woman in a boutique, leaning on a counter.
In a yellow blouse, blue jeans, and sandals, with her hair flowing down her shoulders, embracing her slender arms. So simple, yet, so stunning.
Tommy could feel his heart pounding in his chest, accelerating and getting more intense as each second passed. The shame and guilt of last night’s events took over him, taming his usual confidence. Should he tell her that he fired the bouncers? That he had his men disposed of those motherfuckers?
No sense in being a coward. After all, he didn’t know when his next chance would be to see her on her own, without Claude.
Strike the iron while it’s hot, he told himself.
Gathering up his fragile courage, he smoothed his hair, licked his thumb, and brushed it on his eyebrows. Tommy shook his shoulders and approached the entrance of the boutique.
“I did not expect I’ll see you again very soon!”
The distraction looked surprised. Her hair bounced as she looked at him, bracing in her spot, her lips parting slightly.
“Good morning to you, Serena,” he said, grinning while he struggled to stifle the anxiety deep within.
She forced a smile. “Mr. Vercetti…”
“What are you doing here at this early hour?”
“I just need to buy things, and I’d taken a stroll. That’s all.” She grabbed the paper bag that was handed over to her by the clerk. She pressed her lips together into a thin smile and lowered her head as she walked past him.
Leaving already?!
Tommy followed her as she walked away from the boutique. Facing her with his hands inside his pockets, Tommy carefully stepped backward. He had to find a reason to keep talking to her. He was not used to asking women out because they'd just throw themselves on his way for a short date or a quickie, but when curiosity struck, Tommy knew he had to make the first move.
An idea came to his head. He wasn’t sure if she’d accept, but what were the chances if he wouldn’t take the shot?
“Let’s have a coffee,” he said as invitingly as he could.
Her eyelids fluttered as if she didn’t know what to say. Serena shook her head. “Thank you, Mr. Vercetti, but I have to go…”
Rejection was not Tommy’s strong point. Sure, he’d been rejected before, but throughout his life, he never took it well. Some people had attempted to refuse him in business deals and agreements. Some politicians tried to not support him in his operations. Some competitors dared to oppose him and sabotage him. They all tried, but in the end, Tommy got what he wanted, turning the rejections in his favor through persuasion or coercion.
Claude’s new lover wasn’t an exemption. After all, it was just a coffee.
But why did it feel so difficult?
Out of the blue, his hand – yes, his uncontrollable hand, held the crook of her elbow, keeping her in place. It wasn’t his plan to touch her of any sort, but he just simply couldn’t stop himself.
“I insist,” he said, pushing a brave grin that almost faltered. Looking at the bags she was carrying, he quickly snatched one and walked ahead of her. “I’ll carry this one for you!”
She looked so stunned. Her mouth gaped as he marched away from her, clutching the paper bag in his arms, doubling down. He glanced over his shoulder, tipped his head, and continued sauntering once more.
Tommy knew he already cornered her when she sighed so heavily and followed him through the escalator.
Wouldn’t it be nice to know more about the distraction? he pondered, basking privately in his triumph, excitement overcoming shame in his guts.
Serena trailed close behind looking awkward, head bowed down and face churned.
When the powerful aroma of the brewed coffee filled his senses, Tommy wasn’t able to hold back his excitement. “What a nice morning we’re having!” His day might have started poorly, but this one twist was exactly what he was looking for.
Time to know what she’s up to.
Tommy pulled out a chair and motioned his hand to Serena. She settled down, keeping her gaze low. Tommy sat across from her and crossed his legs, observing every strained movement she made… when she put her bags on the spare eat, when she bit her lower lip, and when she tucked her hair behind her ear.
The waitress approached them, and from her apron, she drew a small notepad and a pen. “The usual, Mr. Vercetti?”
“We’ll have two cups of Americano,” he said, then turned to Serena. “Do you want sugar?”
“Yes, please…” she mumbled with a faint nod.
He looked back at the waitress and smiled. “You heard milady…”
Right after the waitress left, the soft music playing in the background overwhelmed them. He glanced at his companion more often. He could feel that she was uncomfortable and indisposed.
It still caught him off guard, thinking of how she looked last night.
A few minutes passed and their coffee arrived. After saying her thanks, she started to stir hers immediately, lifting the cup slowly to her lips. She grimaced upon making contact with the hot drink.
“Be careful…” he warned. “They ground the coffee here fresh, right before they serve it to you.”
She did not answer. She didn’t even look at him for longer than a second.
“So, how did you and Speed meet?”
Serena looked at him, and Tommy saw her gleaming hazel eyes. A slight smile on her lips rather melted his motives. “We met in Portland, Mr. Vercetti. Coincidentally, in a club as well.”
“Really?” he asked, surprised and elated to learn that she met Claude the same way they met. In a club. “I heard he saved you, from whom?”
She breathed a heavy sigh. “Mr. Vercetti, I don’t think I know you enough. I hope you understand.”
Guards up.
“Alright, my bad…”
He was getting a little impatient. He wanted her to say more. Yet, for some reason, Tommy was nervous about how to keep the conversation going, leaving him with no choice but to be more assertive.
“Your suite in the hotel… I paid for it.”
A gentle smile laced her lips. “Thank you for the wonderful accommodation, Mr. Vercetti. I am pretty sure Claude is gonna pay for it well with his services.”
His mouth quirked up. Impressive. Coy but feisty. “You’re right. He’d really do an excellent job.”
Serena took the teaspoon and stirred the coffee after she put another cube of sugar in it. “What about you, Mr. Vercetti? Why are you alone?”
He thought about it, unsure of what to say. “Let’s just say, I enjoy my own company.”
She looked out at the glass window. From his viewpoint, Tommy saw the light freckles that emblazoned her cheeks. She already looked distracting last night, but now, he realized how she looked best in the light, in simplicity.
How unique. Why did she feel so different?
“How long have you known Claude, Mr. Vercetti?” she asked, taking him out of his defiant wonders.
“About six years,” he replied. “He worked for me on something very important.”
“That’s nice…” she mumbled, her eyes sparkling as she smiled. “He’s a good man.”
Tommy felt drawn. Was there something in the way she stared at him? The way she gleamed?
He wasn’t going to let her take control.
“What about you?” he asked. “How much do you know about Speed?”
It seemed his inquiry puzzled her. Her eyes blinked more frequently, and her cheeks turned red.
Unlike him, she was not so good at hiding her own confusion.
“How long have you been together? About a month? From Portland to Staunton Island, and now here in Vice City…” He swigged the last gulp of his coffee and laid the cup on the saucer. “If you want, I can tell you more about him, of course, with what I just know.”
For a millisecond, Tommy saw her tremble. There was worry, then there was fear. She looked astounded by what he said, as a matter of fact, interested, and he could hear her shouting aloud in her mind YES.
“Mr. Vercetti, I think I know Claude enough to trust him this far,” she retorted quite the opposite of what he wanted to happen.
She was bluffing. He knew.
“So you know what he wants to do in Liberty City in the first place?” he asked once again, coaxing for a more genuine response. A woman like her – such a disparity to Claude’s world – had just questionably come to his friend’s life without a warning, changing the direction he was heading. Deep inside, Tommy felt himself snicker, sensing some sort of success in stirring the distraction.
Serena shook her head in a way so light yet so distinct. “No, I-I don’t.”
Too much for such trust. “Then, I don’t think you know him enough.”
She wore the same look last night. Those scared eyes that sought comfort… those trembling lips that couldn’t utter a word…
Serena stood from her seat in a bolt, grabbing the paper bags she put on the spare seat. “I… I think I should go.”
Wait, no, I’m not done yet–
“I thank you for the coffee and the chat, Mr. Vercetti…”
She left the coffee shop. As soon as she went out of the door, Tommy almost slammed his hand on the table. He just touched his forehead and ran his fingers through his hair, thinking how he fucked up the chance. He could hold the collars of his shirt and punch his face right now.
Disappointedly, he leaned his back on the seat. Something crumpled behind him. When he turned around to see what it was, his smile resumed. He couldn’t be happier.
The paper bag.
Placing a hundred-dollar bill on the table and not minding getting the change at all, Tommy dashed out of the café. He quickly ran toward his car in the parking lot and drove slowly on the avenue. She’d realize soon that she had left something, and she’d be forced to go back to him.
He wasn’t letting go of the second chance.
As he scanned the pavement, he saw her pacing on the sidewalk.
“Serena,” he called. “I got your bag!”
She spun on her heels. Relief flashed on her face as she approached, reaching out for the paper bag, though, her cheeks remained flushed. “Thank you, Mr. Vercetti. I’m sorry for bothering you…”
“You have lots to carry,” he wheedled, hanging an arm out of the car window. “You can have a ride with me. I’m sure Speed won’t mind…”
Her brows furrowed. She looked over the cars at the back. Some drivers blared their horns aloud. Tommy wouldn’t move, however. He was determined to get her to jump into the car, even if it meant pressuring her at others’ expense.
Come on, Serena. Say yes!
“Don’t play hard to get!” one of the drivers shouted irritatingly.
When he saw her walking around the car toward the passenger seat, he couldn’t help but smile widely, ignoring the strident yells behind him. “You can put your stuff back there,” he snickered, pointing a thumb to the backseat.
Serena got in the passenger seat. Tommy drove away from the mall, leaving the throngs of impatient drivers, heading for Ocean Drive.
He noticed that she was playing with her fingers on her lap.
“I am truly ashamed right now, Mr. Vercetti,” she said, surprising him a little.
Shaking his head, Tommy grinned. “I think we got off on the wrong foot last night, and I have obviously creeped you out today. I’m sorry… will you forgive me? Please?”
The way she glanced at him changed. “Yes, Mr. Vercetti. And I’m sorry, too, if I have been too standoffish.”
Tommy chuckled at her confession. Yes, he knew and anticipated it, but he didn’t expect her to admit it so candidly. Taking further the second chance he had, Tommy offered to give her a tour around the vicinity. Serena, seemingly more willing this time, agreed.
Throughout the trip, Tommy found her company entertaining. She paid close interest to everything he said, and her initial indifference was no longer perceptible. They made a roundabout in the avenue, cruising the roads that traversed both Washington and Ocean Beaches. Tommy pointed at the establishments he was affiliated with, making her ask more questions. It was fun to answer all of them, making him forget about time.
On their way back to Ocean View Hotel, Tommy thought of telling her more of what he knew, something that she’d have fun knowing about. He enjoyed her inquisitiveness and reactions, her warmth and disposition. Such a new feeling to flounder in.
“Do you know that Speed was a street racer?” he asked, hoping to see her awestruck. It was one of those things that Claude barely shared with anyone, and in some way, Tommy wanted him to be the first to share it with her.
Serena looked quite amazed, just as expected. “No, I-I don’t.”
“That was a long time ago,” he said while shifting lanes, “with Catalina.”
It was an insignificant detail, or so he thought. Tommy noticed the change in her expression. A little bit, he was bothered, but then he realized that this was exactly why he wanted to speak to her.
“Do you know her?” he asked, her silence growing more compelling.
It took her a few seconds before she responded. “I’ve… I’ve heard of her before, but I’m not interested.”
She could deny it, but Tommy witnessed how she became rigid.
Hitting a sore spot, am I?
The once-gone awkward feeling relapsed. Tommy wallowed in the hush that only the noise of the engine was able to cover temporarily.
As they arrived at the Ocean View Hotel, Serena smiled at him. It was genuine, although tainted by the looming unease he had triggered.
She unbuckled her seatbelt and opened the door. “Thank you, Mr. Vercetti. I enjoyed your company…”
“Tommy. Call me Tommy.” He was utterly pleased to achieve even just half of his goal. “And Serena, I’m sorry for what happened last night. I assure you, things have been taken care of.”
“Thank you, Mr. Ver–” She shook her head and smiled sheepishly. “Tommy. I appreciate that.”
Never had it crossed his mind that once Claude came back to Vice City, he’d be bringing something special that even Tommy could not comprehend. A distraction filled with wonder. A woman who might be full of love and innocence. A lover who seemed oblivious to the dangers that lay ahead of her path.
Did she know what she was getting into? Did Claude know what he was getting her into?
Serena climbed up the steps of the hotel’s porch, then, before she entered, she turned around and bent, peering at him with a delightful expression. “And call me Reena!” she cried, smiling ineptly no more.
She disappeared at the entrance. Tommy wondered when he’d be seeing her again. After all, a short talk was not enough to discover her true intentions toward his friend.
Tommy would not let her blindside Claude no matter how beautiful of a distraction she was.
Coffee. Art by stephydrawsart_ (Reena and background) and peyaya_ (Tommy) (Tumblr, Twitter, and Instagram).
Notes:
This is in reference to Chapter 34: Morning Coffee in The Reaper Man.
Thank you for reading <3
Chapter Text
ONE FUCKING MONTH. Tommy didn’t expect that the Colombians would really push the limits even though he stood his ground. What was more, he didn’t anticipate it would be that long before he could make a reason to see the distraction. Twice he met with Claude, but of course, he never brought Serena along, and their meetings were too short, just a few shots here and there.
Now, he had the opportunity. He wouldn’t be wasting it.
He folded the page of an old newspaper with a picture and tucked it in his suit’s inner pouch. While standing at the foot of the concrete stairs a few steps from the Moonbeam, Tommy watched as Ken Rosenberg marched past him, holding the briefcases of money. As soon as the lawyer was already in the backseat, instead of riding with him, Tommy turned in the garage’s direction.
“Hey, aren’t you coming?” Ken asked, peering by the window. “We gotta drop by the Umberto first before we go to Claude.”
Tommy hopped on the Vader, keyed in, and started the engine. “No, Ken. You’ll be my proxy.” He didn’t wait for the lawyer to inquire anymore as he wore the helmet and dashed out of the estate. Unwilling to show Ken or any of his men where he was going, he throttled forward, speeding the bike, crossing the whole bridge away from Starfish Island in no time.
Reaching Ocean Drive, Tommy parked the bike before the Front Page Café, two buildings away from the hotel, and from there, he sent a message to Claude.
“Ken will meet you outside in an hour.”
It was an important day to him, of course. Finally, his merchandise was coming, but the urgency of his other priority was rather more compelling. His interest in Serena had been piqued, and he was determined to know more about her – or rather, to see how she’d react to what he’d be giving her.
Tommy waited until the Moonbeam arrived. When Claude got in the car and the vehicle dashed away, Tommy hopped on the bike again and pulled over in front of the hotel. The deserted lobby met him, and Tommy sat on a couch and waited.
No doubt that even without him, the trade would be successful. Ken was there to secure the exchange and the money, and Claude was present to make sure that the dealers wouldn’t mess with them. His uneasiness, however, was brought more by the fact that he’d be confronting the distraction again. It was a mixture of anxiousness and exhilaration.
He needed to know, once and for all if she was just like Claude’s ex-lover. And what was a better way to bring out her true colors than by making her face his past that she seemed unaware of?
After an hour of waiting, Tommy finally climbed up and headed to the suite. As he stood in front of the door, he breathed in and out, raising his fist and gently knocking on the door. He heard someone approaching, so he quickly brushed his fingers through his hair and fixed the lapels of his suit. The door opened, and her shocked expression greeted him again.
“Good day, Reena…” he said, remembering she told him to call her by that name. He let himself in, tugging his gaze around the suite. He couldn’t help but lift his head, however. The room smelled like those bakeshops early in the morning. Lemon-scented and fresh.
“Mr. Verc– I’m sorry, Tommy,” she mumbled. “What can I do for you?”
Where in the heavens does that smell come from?
Tommy searched for the source of that fragrance he couldn’t resist. He went to the fridge, opened it, and scanned the contents inside. He found a bottle of beer, a few more containers, and, lo and behold! A newly-baked cheesecake.
It was the reason for the warm and fuzzy scent that welcomed him the moment he opened the door. A beam lined his lips as he stood straight and looked back at Reena. “It looks great! Did you bake this?”
“I… I made it for Claude.” She smiled and nodded.
Tommy wouldn’t let the chance pass without having a taste of it, even just a bit. His palate screamed, yearning to feel the scrumptious flavor on his tongue. His mouth started to water, and as he struggled to keep it close, a question escaped his lips.
“Can I have a slice?”
She looked quite stunned. “Of course, yes, help yourself.” She sounded reluctant, and though she tried so hard to hide it, her not wanting him to touch the cheesecake showed. “It needs to settle for a while. The middle’s still soft, but you can already have… if you want.”
He knew she didn’t mean it, but he didn’t mind either. It was another reason to intimidate her, and real colors came out in times of inconvenience. Perfect.
Grabbing a saucer and a knife, Tommy sliced a piece of the tart as carefully as he could and placed it on the little plate. Using a fork, he scooped it and put it into his mouth. Out of his goals, and definitely not a part of his plans, but god-fucking-damn, it was the best cheesecake he’d ever tasted! There was no flamboyant sweetened jam or berries at the top, but it was the barest, freshest, and most delicious one he had ever had.
You’re making it so hard for me, distraction.
“This is scrumptious!” he hollered, failing to stop from bursting. He was enjoying the food too much while Reena just stood there and watched him with a bewildered gaze. When he glanced at her, he could sense her growing rankle within, and he braced himself to receive the backlash. After all, it was what he wanted to see.
She cleared her throat, softly yet distinctly. “Why are you here, Tommy?”
He took another bite and felt the creaminess spread in his mouth. Fuck, so good. He sniggered, then he stuck a hand out, the one holding the saucer. “Would you like some?”
“Why are you here?” Her voice was firmer. She folded her arms over her chest.
“I just thought of paying you a visit.” She was getting there. Just a bit more push.
“Thanks, I’m doing well. Aren’t you supposed to be with Claude?”
Tommy scraped the food on his plate, devouring up until the last smear of cream on the fork. “Actually, I purposely didn’t come so that I can talk to you again…”
Her eyes narrowed. “And why is that?”
Moment of truth, distraction.
From his suit, he took the folded newspaper. “I have something for you.” He stretched his arm, handing her over the object. She took it, now and then looking back at him with sheer skepticism until her eyes got fixated on the information that was laid before her.
Tommy was not at all different from Claude. He could have had it worse. Fifteen years of imprisonment for self-defense, almost getting executed, but never in those years had he talked about the Forellis. He knew something was up with Sonny then, but he kept his mouth shut, keeping his loyalty afoot. He never turned them up. Through those years, he struggled all alone until the same Family called in favors to get him out, only to discover they still intended to get rid of him, much to his resentment.
Like Claude, he was let down by the people he trusted, people he respected, and people he cared for. Claude was like a younger brother to Tommy born from a different family. There was no way he’d let his friend experience another heartbreak, not when he could do something.
Reena sat and read the news clip, and he could see how her demeanor changed. She was focused, reading word by word, seemingly engrossed in her discovery. After she finished reading, Reena looked like she’d been struck by lightning. Her mouth was open, her eyes blinked rapidly, and her hands scrunched, crumpling the paper.
“I… I don’t know what to say…”
Let’s see if you can’t still say anything after this.
Reaching into his pocket again, Tommy pulled out the picture. “He’s unlucky, isn’t he?” he asked, and then he stuck out his hand toward her for the second time. “I have another one...”
The way she stared at the picture was the same way a child looked at something newly-discovered. “Who… is this?”
“That’s Catalina,” he said, taking a swig, giving refuge to his drying throat.
Tommy believed that someone’s true colors would come out when they were confronted with things that had been hidden from them but they deserved to know. That was how his true colors came out toward Sonny Forelli and how Claude’s true colors came out toward Catalina. The distraction was no exemption. He believed Claude was too distracted by his newfound comfort and romance with someone he barely knew… someone whose arrival was so sudden and effects so life-altering that caused the change of course of Claude’s actions.
“Does Claude still mention her?” Her eyes trained on Catalina’s picture. Tommy could see the worry on her face.
Sitting across from her, he said, “No… no, he does not. But he’s looking for her.” And it was the truth. He might be an asshole, but he would never lie.x
“He’s… looking for her?” She lifted her eyes to him, and Tommy felt a certain pang in her gaze.
“That’s the reason why after he escaped, he stayed in Liberty City. All those work for pay… they’re for Catalina.”
Her face turned cold. “Why are you showing me these?” she asked, somewhat accusing.
“Didn’t he tell you about it?” His brows furrowed in the middle. “Her?”
Reena mumbled something when his phone suddenly rang. Rolling his eyes as he answered, Ken yelled, his voice stuttering and almost delirious, raving about how angry Claude was upon learning they were dealing with the Colombians.
“Speed, what are you doing?”
“Colombians?!”
“Speed, you don’t understand–”
Claude hung up on him, making it certain that what he did had crossed the line. As he put his cell back into his pocket, he looked at Reena, and though he was thinking about how to face Claude’s wrath later, he was seized by the woe in her eyes.
A lump grew in his throat. He didn’t know why, but panic wrapped around his head, seeing her low spirits. Tommy wasn’t supposed to be feeling any sympathy right now, but why did it feel so wrong to know he was the cause of her reservations?
“Problems. Your boyfriend’s getting insane again,” he said, trying to mellow the situation with a bitter smile. “Now, where were we?”
She was staring at the floor. Her voice was low and almost inaudible, but he was able to read how her lips moved.
“Do you think he still loves her?”
The distraction was calm. Too calm. He expected her to raise her voice, to cry, to berate him for coming uninvited and planting all these seeds of doubt, but no. Not a sign of mistrust flickered in her eyes or a harsh word came out of her lips. The way she gazed at him was profound and sincere, a mere search for an answer.
Somehow, Tommy was uncertain of what to say. It was so straightforward that even if he were in Claude’s position, he couldn’t answer without risking and saying something he might regret. He looked into her eyes intently, probing for a flaw, finding nothing but pure devotion… a willingness to accept whatever the truth was, even if it hurt.
To be honest with her was all he could do. It was for Claude’s benefit… and hers.
“Reena, you must answer that question yourself, but a decade’s worth is incomparable to a month.”
She stood still before him, her arms on her side, shoulders rested. She nodded, seemingly absorbing every word he said. Tommy wanted to retort, he wanted to explain why he said that, but when she smiled, every little thing in his head went wild.
How is she doing this to me?
Albeit his legs waning, Tommy stood and tugged his suit, trying to conceal the quivering of his fingers. “Well, I must go, I’ll leave those to you.” He went to the door with her pained smile engraved in his mind, bewildering him. Tommy swore on every nerve of his being that Reena wouldn’t speak to him anymore, and this was the last chance. Shutting his eyes, he faced her once again, taking the opportunity to invite her but expecting nothing at all. “I don’t know if Speed has told you, but I’m celebrating my birthday this weekend.”
Tommy left the suite. He just knew that Reena wouldn’t tell Claude about his visit, just like how she didn’t tell him about their meeting in Washington Mall.
The harrowing feeling lingered as he made it on time to welcome Claude and Ken.
He tried his best to justify the reasons for his unsolicited appearance to Reena. He didn’t like seeing Claude getting sidetracked from his goals, and she was, more or less, the reason why he wasn’t getting any nearer to his revenge. He despised what happened to his friend, and unlike before when he wasn’t able to do anything for him, now, he was determined not to let him lose the way.
Yet, he also realized something else. Seeing Reena’s reaction to everything he said proved all his impressions about her wrong. His questions and insinuations had placed her in a rather vague situation, probably making her question Claude’s intentions for her, but she remained so steadfast and serene.
Had he been too much on her? Had he judged her so quickly? He felt like he did, and he could no longer deny that he felt bad about it.
Do you think he still loves her?
Her question replayed in his mind, and the fact that he’d answered it so carelessly made his chest implode. He thought he was doing Claude a favor, but he was making a fool of himself by judging the distra– no, she was not his friend’s distraction, but he still couldn’t pinpoint what she was.
The Moonbeam entered the driveway and parked at the bottom of the concrete stairs. When he saw Ken scrambling, Tommy knew that the after-deal events sucked for the lawyer. Claude got out of the car, pushed the door with force enough to snap its bolts, and slammed it shut.
Clicking his tongue, Tommy turned around and walked toward the Waterview.
“Why did you fucking set me up?!” Claude yelled, following him.
Tommy unbuttoned his sleeves and pulled them up to his elbows, preparing for what could be an inevitable confrontation. “I did not…”
“That simpleton lawyer said he thought you did tell me!”
“Speed, he’s traumatized. He’d done nothing wrong.”
“Why didn’t you tell me it’s them?” Claude was glaring so close, so close that made Tommy want to throw a fist at his face.
While he took delight in Claude’s unyielding temperament most of the time, he didn’t like how Claude spoke to him. He cracked his knuckles, glowering at Claude while his mouth parted. “You should be thanking me, Speed. I’m taking her to you. You’ve let her pass for so long.” Tommy broke off his glare. “Besides, I learned too late it was them. Can’t risk you refusing the task.”
“Why would you do that?!”
“I really needed the Spank, you see,” Tommy said softly as he walked past him, yielding and going straight to the edge of the patio for a calmer view. “I thought the Cubans would take care of it, but they withdrew. They said the deal’s moving to something higher. They’re trying to extort more money from me.”
Claude seemed to rather calm down so fast. He just shook his head, dismayed, but he didn’t argue anymore.
Tommy thought Claude understood why he did what he did.
“I’ve got no plans of getting back at them anymore,” Claude said.
Tommy felt his face twist. “What the hell is wrong with you, Speed?!”
“I’m planning of leaving Liberty City behind. I’m taking her far away…”
He'd known Claude for a long time. He was not someone to back out. Tommy knew this man would tear a city down just to find those who caused all his misfortunes. What he just said, however, was something that didn’t come from the Claude Speed he used to know. He was no longer the same.
Claude told him everything that happened in Portland. How he got involved with the Mafia. How he got framed up. How he met Reena. As he listened, Tommy saw a different side of his friend, a side he’d never seen before.
In love. He was deeply fucking in love.
“What led you to that decision?”
Claude revealed to him the entirety of his plans and his worries that those who were hunting him down would come after her. He was determined to leave his old life behind… to start anew, something that Tommy himself was not able to do.
“They tried to and hurt her many times. I won’t let that happen again.”
“What about your revenge?!”
“I wanted to kill them, but not anymore… not now with Reena.” Claude’s voice was firm except when he said her name. His demeanor softened, yet, his fists remained clenching. “But one of them said they’ll be back.”
“This is your chance!” With the last bit of hope, Tommy tried to encourage him. “It could mean that Catalina would come!”
“I don’t care, but if ever they step foot here in Vice City, I’ll make sure to blow their fucking heads off one by one.”
“Are you sure about this?!” he asked, trying another shot.
“I’m fucking sure.”
“You’ve said that before with Cata–”
“Cut it out, Tommy!”
Speedboats passed by the docks, and Tommy wondered what else Claude had been thinking and planning that he hadn’t revealed yet. He was a changed man, and Tommy couldn’t say if it was for the better.
Tommy couldn’t blame Claude either. He must have finally found what he wanted. Who was he to deny it from his friend? In fact, what Tommy felt was more than disappointment. For the first time in a long time, he felt envy. If he had the chance to leave his life behind to begin again, he’d grab it.
But with whom was he going to start? Who would be his distraction?
Claude started walking away, aiming to leave the estate, but he stopped and turned around.
“I need you to do me a favor.”
Tommy was taken out of his musing. “What favor?”
“Our pact. If something happens to me, promise me. You’ll keep Reena safe.”
It was not something he expected Claude to ask, but Tommy, without a doubt, would do it in a heartbeat. To protect the distraction lest things turned upside-down. Tommy could do that.
“Speed,” he called out, “you comin’ on my birthday, right? With Reena?”
Claude snickered as if Tommy hadn’t pissed him off. “Yeah. I’d like to see you getting fucking old.”
Tommy found himself nodding as his friend waved a hand and disappeared from his sight. He wasn’t sure what was on Claude’s mind anymore.
Even he could not understand why he was so willing to fulfill the promise either.
Notes:
This is in reference to Chapter 36: Deal Breaker and Chapter 37: Change of Plans in The Reaper Man.
Also, if you would like to check this out, a wonderful person made a fic inspired by the series T_T
scarletk537Thank you for reading <3
Chapter Text
SAME OLD FACES. Tommy was slowly getting bored in his very own birthday celebration, although more and more people had been coming into the mansion. He saw four of his men carrying two roasted suckling pigs on huge plates adorned with other roasted side dishes, trays of beer and liquor, and a weird grilled animal on silverware, among others. He inserted his hands into the pockets of his khaki shorts as he walked around the room, smiling banally at his visitors.
“Thomas!” Colonel Juan Cortez cried followed by a couple of sailors in their uniforms. Beside him stood his daughter Mercedes in a tight purple dress and black see-through stockings and the starlet Candy Suxxx in her V-neck dress with USA flag designs that revealed her protruding breasts.
Mercedes greeted him, approaching and kissing him on the cheek with a unique puff. “Hello, Tommy,” she whispered, and the way she blinked made it certain she was hinting at it again. Always, on his birthdays.
Forcing a smile on his face, Tommy motioned toward the crowd in the sitting room. “Welcome, help yourselves! There’s plenty of food in the dining area…”
But Mercedes wasn’t moving away from his side. She looked back at Candy and grabbed her hand. “It’s Candy’s first time being here, right?”
The starlet nodded quickly along with the jiggling of her breasts. “Can I see the place, Tommy?” Candy asked as she flipped her long auburn hair to the back of her shoulders, showing more of her skin.
He pulled another tight smile. “Of course. Mercedes will give you a tour.”
The women looked disappointed when Tommy made it clear that he had no intention of joining them, so Candy sighed and clung to Mercedes’s arm, briefly pouting her lips. The two women climbed up the stairs and disappeared in the left wing, so Tommy turned back his attention to Juan Cortez.
“Colonel, what about you? Would you like to have a drink?”
“Oh, of course,” the old man answered, the faint white strands of his hair accentuating his bravado. No matter where he went, he was always wearing his old army uniform, a way for him to brag about his former position and authority. “I’ll go to the sitting room first and talk to P. Rowe.”
Once again, Tommy was left alone in the foyer. He strode toward the right wing of the mansion where the dining area was, finding Ken and some of the goons cutting a piece from the suckling pig. He tugged his gaze around and found another group of people hovering over the dishes and desserts that were abundantly laid out on the long table.
Not feeling hungry at all, Tommy left the dining area.
For the last six years, the same thing had happened. Grand celebration. Multiple visitors. Drinks and drugs. Sex with Mercedes or others, if there were a new company. But every year he got older, he felt more alone. Despite having Ken around, or his acquaintances, or the escort girls from the Pole Position Club who were always a call away, he’d never felt more lonely. Did the glum feeling really come as someone aged? He wasn’t as happy as when he was supposed to be.
His thoughts drifted, not noticing that he was already stepping back into the lounge. He was surprised to find Claude standing at the foot of the stairs. His friend was staring at someone beside him, leaning too close, and a faint, cunning smile laced his lips.
If Claude was already here, it also meant that–
“Speed!” Tommy called out excitedly.
In an instant, Claude glanced in his direction, and Tommy felt like he’d been splashed on by cold, fresh water on the face when he saw Reena, standing beside his friend in a thin white sundress, shaping her figure so perfectly.
Claude snickered and approached while tilting his head toward the distraction. “Reena made you something. You better be thankful.”
“Happy Birthday, Mr. Vercetti,” she greeted, stretching her arms out that cradled a small box of cheesecake toward him.
Tommy remembered his first bite, back in the suite. “Wow,” he muttered, yet, he wasn’t referring to the cake anymore. His eyes focused on her face, seeing the faint, beautiful lines on her sweet lips as she smiled and the bright glow in her eyes as they twinkled. When he realized that he’d been gazing at her for quite too long, he immediately grabbed her gift, slightly brushing his hand on her fingers, sending a tingling sensation down his spine. “D-Did you bake this on your own just like the cheesecake?” he asked, still in complete disbelief at how thoughtful she was after what he’d done.
“What do you mean just like the cheesecake?” Claude interrogated.
Shit.
Why he’d forgotten to be cautious of his words, Tommy didn’t know. It totally slipped off his mind that he just sneaked into the suite when Claude was on Prawn Island with Ken Rosenberg. Blowing off his own pretense meant he might also put Reena in a dilemma because apparently, he was right. She didn’t tell Claude anything.
Tommy tried his best to think of an excuse. “Didn’t you tell me about it, Speed? The cheesecake?”
“Did I?”
Reena clung to Claude’s arm as her face blushed. “You know, the cake needs to be refrigerated,” she interjected, looking at Tommy quite surprised.
“Yeah, you’re right.” Tommy quickly scanned the area desperately in an attempt to break off from Claude’s questioning. Seeing Ken walking across the foyer was a perfect excuse. “Ken!” he called out.
Ken’s face soured as he dragged his feet toward Tommy. “Anything I can do for you? But please be quick, I got someone waiting for me.”
The lawyer was holding a box that Tommy recognized as Ken’s stash of coke and weed. “Don’t you fucking use drugs here you moron. The VCPD chief’s here!” Tommy groused, trying to subdue his growing rankle.
“Sorry, I–”
“Put my cake in the fridge. You’re not allowed to have a slice.”
“Ugh, fine!”
Ken left, stomping his feet on the ground, but Tommy couldn’t care less. He faced Claude and Reena once more. “Speed, I want to introduce you two to some of my acquaintances.” He briefly glanced at Reena, too distracting, so Tommy walked away and tried to divert his attention somewhere else.
He couldn’t.
While introducing them to the visitors, Tommy observed Reena’s every move. She kept her head low all the time. Yet, whenever they hopped from one person to another, she was always able to pull off a friendly smile. Most of them didn’t pay attention to her, and Tommy hated it. Who doesn’t recognize a stunning lady but dumbasses? They were missing a lot. A LOT.
“You must be the friend that Thomas had always talked about…”
Tommy was surprised to see Colonel Cortez approaching them. Proud like a big brother, he clapped Claude’s shoulder and looked at the colonel. “Claude Speed, this is Colonel Juan Cortez. He’s an exceptional diplomat, and he hates French.”
“Are you French? Your name–”
“No, I’m not, Colonel,” Claude retorted, and then he turned slightly toward Reena and held her hand. “This is Reena, my girlfriend.”
Girlfriend, huh?
“Young lady, I see,” Colonel Cortez commented. “I remember my daughter when she was your age.”
“Mercedes isn’t far from her age, Colonel,” Tommy countered. He and Mercedes were of almost the same age, and Juan Cortez commenting about it made Tommy feel much, much older, especially, compared to the distraction. He was eight years older than Claude. She mustn’t be too far from Claude’s age, right? And why would it matter?
Out of nowhere, Mercedes appeared, letting go of Candy’s hand and holding Tommy’s arms. “We’ve been looking for you, birthday boy…”
“In a minute…” Tommy whispered, feeling the urge to pull his arm away. He glanced at Reena, trying to see her reaction. Nothing.
“Who’s she?” Mercedes asked, seemingly interested in the distraction, but she quickly turned her attention back to Tommy. “Anyhow, Candy’s already leaving and I will be waiting for you upstairs…” Her finger trailed from his cheek down to his chin until she unclung from him and walked away.
Colonel Cortez snickered, shaking his head a little. He also said goodbye, telling him that he had something else to do and that he left him a gift – a grilled turtle – which Tommy could consume to increase his drive, according to the colonel.
Once the colonel departed, some of the visitors gathered around the sitting room, the noise of their conversations drowning the thoughts in Tommy’s head.
While the others crowded around him, Claude walked with Reena toward the bar. They both grabbed a drink, and the two of them exchanged smiles while sitting side by side on a couch. Tommy got gripped into observing them, trying to see what Claude would do next and how Reena would respond.
The way they looked at each other was distinctive, provoking a sensation like his gut was getting punched. Whenever Reena looked at Tommy, her eyes scarcely glimmered. But whenever she gazed at Claude, they would unmistakably sparkle.
Why am I feeling this way? Tommy asked himself.
“Tommy!” BJ Smith, the buff football player who always persuaded him to buy his auto shop business in Little Havana, cried and nudged his shoulder. “Let’s have a boat race!”
The crowd of men roared in agreement.
He couldn’t avert his eyes from the couple. “I’ll let you use my boats except for the Dinka Marquis. I just bought that.”
“Why, aren’t you joining?” Kent Paul inquired.
“I got something else to do…”
“Oh come on, Tommy! Don’t be a killjoy! Don’t tell me you’re afraid to be beaten by me!”
He was slowly getting rubbed. It was unusual for him to run out of patience, especially on his birthday, because of people making requests. Could his thoughts affect the way he was feeling at the moment? Definitely. He was wondering. He was questioning. And there were these people, breaking the moments of his self-reflection.
“My proxy would do it for me,” Tommy said, jerking a nod at Claude. “Speed!”
Claude looked at him bewildered. Reena, on the other hand, gazed at Claude, seemingly urging him to go to Tommy, eyes compelling and beguiling.
Tommy approached them, trying to look as confident as he could. “What do you say?” he cajoled, struggling for his eyes not to fall on her.
“I’m your proxy?”
He leaned toward Claude. “Yeah. Give this to me, Speed. Gotta do something upstairs with Mercedes…” he implored, convincing himself to get preoccupied with someone else. Not the one beside his friend. Not the one. But he still glanced at her, and as their eyes met, the curiosity in them glinted, and all Tommy could do was subdue the pounding in his chest by smiling.
Claude seemed to want to refuse, but it seemed like he knew Tommy wasn’t giving him a chance to say no. “Fine,” he grumbled.
As the men cheered and left the room, Tommy saw that Claude looked back at Reena, and she was giving him two thumbs up, smiling so cheerfully. His friend tilted his head, and Reena stood from her seat, following Claude.
When can I have someone like that? Tommy wondered, wallowing in his envious thoughts. Sucking in his breath, he climbed up the stairs, leaving all the clamor behind.
Mercedes was already on the bed, naked, save for her panties. As soon as Tommy closed the door behind him, she stood and approached, cupping his cheeks and pulling his face down. Her lips claimed his, warm and wet, tongue playing against the seams of his cusps. Tommy kissed back, trying to get himself in the mood, putting his hands on her waist.
He felt the cabinet’s door on his back as Mercedes dragged her mouth down his neck, nipping on his collars. Tommy closed his eyes, feeling her breasts brush on his arm, conditioning his mind to focus on the moment. From her waist, Tommy slid his hands to her ass, squeezing her luscious buttocks, trying to relish her smooth skin.
“What do you want me to do with you?” she asked, her breath so close to his ears. It usually gave him the shivers, but Tommy couldn’t understand why it didn’t now.
Mercedes stood in front of him and glared intently as she slowly dragged down her panties. Tommy kept his eyes on her, seeking her hazel eyes, her freckled cheeks, and her orange hair–
Wait.
She dropped to her knees, tugging her mouth along the belt of his khaki shorts. Mercedes reached for his belt and unbuckled it, then she grabbed the button, undoing it.
It would be nice to just press himself on the cabinet door and dip his chin to his chest. To watch his length disappear in her mouth. To feel the soft tug of pleasurable sensation. To enjoy the moment as he stared into her doe eyes. Tommy thought of all this, but instead of Mercedes, he was with someone else... someone distracting enough to make him second-guess everything.
Shit.
He grabbed Mercedes’s hand and removed it from his shorts, preventing her from freeing his cock. He pulled the zipper back up and tightened the belt around his waist.
Mercedes looked up at him, puzzled. “What’s wrong?”
Tommy chuckled bitterly. He didn’t want Mercedes to think that he didn’t appreciate her present, but he was sure that having sex right now was not something he wanted. He tried to distract himself from his languishing, but he failed miserably.
“Sorry, I’m not in the mood right now.” He brushed his fingers through the strands of his hair. “I actually wanna see the race, if you don’t mind.”
Of course, it was just a horrible excuse. He wasn’t at all interested in the race, nor who among them would need to pay him for destroying his speedboat. He was itching his way out for some reason, and he had to go. Now.
Tommy didn’t bother to elaborate. He got out of the bedroom and hurried downstairs. As he reached the sitting room, he heard the clamor, boisterous voices of men talking and laughing all together.
“The race was done.”
He turned around and saw Ken holding two bottles of vodka.
“Who won?” he asked, much to his lack of interest.
“Heh,” Ken huffed as he chugged one of the bottles. His face grimaced as he swallowed the drink, making him cough a bit. “Of course, Claude.”
As expected. He left Ken choking in the foyer and went to the doorway of the sitting area. He was about to join them when he noticed that she was missing. There was BJ Smith, of course, the chief of police, Kent Paul, and a lot more others, including Claude. He was seated among the men, snickering at the side while he poured himself a drink.
She wasn’t there. His eyes scanned the sitting room fast enough to see everyone’s face, but not hers.
“Looking for someone?” Ken caught up with him in the doorway.
“Where’s she?”
“Who?”
“Reena,” he said quite annoyingly. “Why isn’t she with Speed?”
“Oh,” Ken said as he squeezed himself into the doorway. “She’s in the Waterview. She said she likes it there so she stayed behind.”
Instead of approaching his visitors, Tommy sneaked to avoid catching their attention and scooted toward the back of the mansion. In the Waterview, all alone? Tommy felt his pulse race as he paced across the yard. He looked ahead, and once he passed by the winding hedge maze in the garden, he found her perching on one of the patios.
He stopped in his tracks, unsure what he’d tell her. Should he ask why she was left here? Why wasn’t she with Claude? But then again, Tommy realized that her being alone was to his advantage. Another chance for him to have a private conversation with the distraction.
“Where’s Speed?” Tommy inquired as he stared at the skyline, pretending to enjoy the Waterview himself before looking at her.
She was surprised. Her hazel eyes gaped, and damn, the distraction was exceptional. When she smiled and giggled, it seemed like he was listening to a mellow tune that cast the entire garden into a rose-colored spectacle.
“So, how’s your celebration upstairs?”
Tommy saw that she was staring at his collars, and when he looked down, he found a kiss mark, and even further down to the belt of his shorts was another. Shame grew in his stomach. He scratched his head, trying to think of an excuse, but there was no sense in explaining.
Reena didn’t have to know that he refused sex because he was thinking about her.
“Let’s just say, I enjoyed it a bit,” he said, hoping it was enough to convince her.
She smiled, and Tommy felt he was plummeting down an exciting and gut-wrenching rabbit hole of madness. A kind of madness he wanted to be trapped in forever.
“By the way, I wanna thank you last time.”
Caught off guard, Tommy found himself churning. “What for?”
“For those… bits of information.”
Right. Tommy was ashamed for being invasive, but here she was, thanking him for it. How could she take all those things so fucking graciously?!
Why are you like this, distraction?
“You haven’t asked him about them yet?”
She shrugged. “I don’t think I have to. I’ll just wait for him to tell me those things. Don’t wanna nag him about it.”
Tommy was fascinated. Reena was akin to a rainbow after a rainy day. A colorful ray of light. A positive glow.
“Seldom do I meet a woman like you.”
It was true. Women he knew were either crazy or nonchalant, extreme, wild, or just simply uncaring. His mother was one. His girlfriends before were. Mercedes, she was kind, but she couldn’t stay in a relationship because she always hopped from one happy place to another. Tommy didn’t blame her for that. It was their mutual decision. He didn’t want to get stuck into a pretense of a relationship only to end up regretting it in the end either.
But Reena? The distraction? Why did it seem so good to be stuck with her?
“What do you mean?” she probed, her eyes narrowing charmingly.
“Clever… and patient.” And lovely. So, so lovely. Shit.
The shy beam on her lips made her look more adorable. Pressing the heels of her palms on the concrete patio as she swayed her legs, she said, “If you don’t mind, what’s the story behind this estate? I mean, how’d you get it?”
Tommy squinted, feeling amused and confused at the same time, but he wouldn’t let go of the new chance for a better conversation.
“You want me to tell you how I got this?” He waved a hand around the property.
Reena nodded, full of enthusiasm, her eyes locked with his.
Accepting the challenge, Tommy cleared his throat and heaved a hollow voice from his guts, just like how narrators in the shows he watched sounded like. “Once upon a time, there was a drug baron named Ricardo Diaz.”
Her laughter was so warm that it tickled a soft spot in his heart. “Come on, Tommy. Don’t treat me like a child!”
“No, no, I’m not!” he retorted as he turned toward her, putting both his feet up on the patio and sitting with his legs crossed. “Lemme do this my style…”
“Okay…” She sat the same way.
Smacking his lips while he stared at her, Tommy continued, “So, this estate, he was the owner. Colombian. I know you hate them.”
“Not all of them…” Reena protested.
“Well, he still counts, and I’d rather you do,” he responded with a stern voice, though he was still very thrilled to recall the past. “So, six years ago, I was just a teeny-tiny asshole, working for some big guys here in Vice City while I was looking for my former boss’s money and merchandise.”
“You mean, drugs?”
“Yeah, dru–” He frowned yet with a smile. “How’d you know?”
“You don’t differ from Claude…” she said softly.
His lips parted and he smiled. “I kind of, because I don’t forget you’re missing.”
Her face suddenly blushed, her eyes fluttered, and her jaw dropped. “It’s okay,” she mumbled while looking down at the floor. “He needed to shake his stress off. Sometimes, we need to be separated too…”
He sensed the tinge of sorrow in her voice, making him more certain that she was feigning. Trying to turn the mood around, he said, “Alright.” He leaned, getting a little closer to her. “Well, there was this guy and, let’s call him Lance Vance.”
“Sounds like a good name.”
“Uh-huh. So, when I came to Vice City, I was supposed to deal with him and his brother. Ken was with me at that time. When we’re about to exchange stuff–”
“Drugs and money?”
“Drugs and money, yeah…”
He was getting more and more rivetted by her interruptions. She was curiously listening, profoundly interested. He liked it. He loved it, making him want to make the storytelling one of his best performances.
“Some bastards ambushed us, killing my companions and his brother.”
“That’s… horrible,” Reena said, touching her lips. “Did they steal your stuff?”
Tommy nodded. “Yeah, they did. And I gotta retrieve it, you know? My boss, he wasn’t exactly a kind guy.” He paused at the thought of Sonny Forelli.
“Are you alright?” Reena asked, her worried eyes peering up at him. “You don’t have to do this...”
“Oh, no…” Tommy forced a smile on his face so Reena wouldn’t be upset. “Okay. Colonel Cortez, the old man in an army suit. D’you remember him? He made me do some work until eventually, I and Lance met again.”
“So, you and Lance became friends?”
He affirmed. “We did work together for Ricardo Diaz. Then, we found out that he was… the snake.”
Her eyes grew large upon hearing the last word. “Was he the one who… ambushed you?”
“You got it right. He did. He orchestrated the attack. But the thing is… when we found out about it, Lance Vance took matters into his own hands.”
Tommy could still vividly recall when he found Lance tied, restrained, and severely wounded in the storage shed at the back of a scrapyard. The path to his location wasn’t a piece of cake. He fought his way in against Diaz’s goons, and Tommy, for Christ’s sake, couldn’t help but let his wrath overwhelm him.
“I was in a panic,” Tommy said, reminiscing every minute of that day. “I told him he blew my careful planning to shit, and that he screwed up real good. I cut his ties, draped his arm around my shoulders, yanked him up… I couldn’t leave him there.”
“What did he tell you?” Reena asked, tilting her head to the side.
“He asked me if I expected him to mow Ricardo’s lawn,” Tommy said, cackling.
Lance Vance was very impulsive, but his reasons were justifiable. To find out that the man they were both working for was the one who took a shit on them was a blow to their trust. Diaz’s betrayal caused Sonny Forelli to belittle Tommy and make him feel worthless. If the drug baron hadn’t betrayed them, he would’ve had a peaceful life. The Don wouldn’t be pestering him… insulting him… threatening to kill him. Tommy could’ve just been lounging on beds of money, doing whatever he wanted, but because of Diaz, he was back to nothing but a shattered pride.
And because of the ambush, Lance’s brother, Victor, died. His only family.
It was worse.
“I dragged him out of the junkyard, and I told him we gotta take Diaz out first before he does. But Lance was fucking bleeding, his wounds didn’t stop gushing out blood. He’d been stabbed near the guts.” He pressed his hand on the right side of his stomach, showing the spot to Reena. “I had to take him to the hospital, hauled him into the emergency.”
Diaz wouldn’t stop until they were found, especially knowing by then that he saved Lance Vance. Waiting for hours on end, he told Reena how he planned to infiltrate Diaz’s mansion. The drug baron would’ve surely sent his guards to defend the estate, and it would be difficult for Tommy to attack now that Diaz, more or less, already knew he was siding with Lance.
“But Lance was such a goddamn asshole,” he continued. “He went out of his room and told me he was fuckin’ suffocating in there. I almost seized his hand had I not looked.”
Reena bit her lip. “That would’ve ended much worse.”
“You’re right.” His head bobbed up and down in agreement. “Lance told me we gotta get out of there.”
Although Lance still needed medical attention, Tommy agreed with him. He couldn’t stand the hospital and all the shit going on around him. The nurses, especially the security guards, had been eyeing him constantly. Even those who stood afar were rather fixated on him. He wondered what the hell their problem was until he looked at his hands and arms and found himself covered in blood.
“I asked him where we should go. I brought him to my car and we hurtled out of the driveway.”
“Your friend, he must be tough…” Reena commented. “I can’t imagine how he did it.”
Tommy agreed. “He asked me if I got guns. I told him I did.”
“For what?”
He chuckled. “You won’t believe it, but he told me we should take Diaz out. I said, what the fuck’s wrong with you Lance, you trynna kill yourself? But the douche just laughed at me.”
The drivers behind them who cursed and blasted their horns were all engraved in Tommy’s mind. It was very humiliating, but he was too shocked to react with reason.
“Lance told me we’re a team, and nothing can beat us if we work together, not even Diaz’s men.”
In retrospect, whatever Lance was thinking of doing could’ve put them both in jeopardy. In the first place, it was the reason why Tommy needed to rescue him. Lance’s impulsivity often led to shitty situations, but the fool in him thought that Lance was making sense. Prolonging the wait could’ve made Ricardo Diaz stronger and more prepared. They had to attack when he was still planning, or confused, or fucking. Whatever he was doing. There was no other time. Besides, if they worked together, Diaz and his men wouldn’t have had the chance to beat them, just like what Lance said.
“Did you follow him?” Reena asked in palpable anticipation.
“What do you think?”
Her jaw dropped. “You did!”
Tommy snickered. Her reactions were top-notch.
“We expected that there’d be goons waiting for us on the road, but there were none. I don’t know, maybe Diaz wasn’t so good after all.”
It was just like yesterday. He and Lance went straight up the driveway, rounding at the curve in the entrance of Diaz’s estate. Mobsters nonchalantly roamed around the property, and their arrival in the driveway proved to be something unexpected. Diaz’s men fired at them, peppering their car with the relentless clanking of bullets. Lance dodged, and Tommy pressed his foot on the gas pedal hard, pushing the car to maximum speed, ramming over the goons in the driveway. The wheels of the Cheetah rolled over the bodies on the ground like humps on the road, and Tommy swore he heard the cracking of their bones.
Skidding at the bottom of the wide stairs that led to the mansion, he and Lance got out of the car, holding their weapons steadily on their sides.
“I took the west wing while Lance made his way to the east,” he said, pointing at the areas in the back of the mansion. Reena’s curious eyes followed his motions.
How they survived that day was still a question to Tommy until now.
Diaz’s men were fucking everywhere. In the hallways, corners, even in the hedge maze and inner pools. They lingered all around the estate, and Tommy needed to shoot anything and everything that moved. He’d run out of bullets, so he’d take a dead man’s weapon and exhaust it until he needed to take another. He navigated the maze-like hallways from the basement, firing instantly every time he turned to a corner. Tommy knew he couldn’t be lax and complacent. In each turn he made, someone was waiting for him, blasting with their weapons and charging forward without fear. The Colombians were ruthless, ready to slaughter even if caught off-guard. He had to be more merciless than them.
When he entered from the rear through the pool entrance, Tommy was welcomed by another mob in the hallway. He hid behind the foundations as they fired at him. He sneaked a shot or two, and every time he did, Tommy made sure to take someone down. He took advantage of every window of time he got to retaliate.
“Lance was right,” he said, “Diaz’s men were stupid. We’re just two, but the fuck they were, they couldn’t even shoot.”
Tommy gestured as if he was clinging to the rifle between his torso and right arm, telling her that he charged forward and entered another hall, describing how he found bodies splayed on the floors and stairs.
“I saw Lance on the other end. More goons came from the second floor, firing at us. We stood back-to-back, blasted at them ‘til our bullets run out. Felt like it was raining, but instead of water, it was blood.”
Reena stared at the mansion, her eyes tugging up and down, from the roof to the ground. Turning back to Tommy, her face looked even more aghast. “But where’s Diaz?”
“He appeared soon enough, holding a machine gun.”
“No shit…” she muttered, but she suddenly cupped her hand over her mouth. “Sorry!”
Tommy burst into a peal of laughter. He couldn’t help but touch his stomach. “God, you’re cute.”
“What did you say?”
His heartbeat jumped. “I said, we need to execute.” Tommy cleared his throat and shook his head. “We chased after him, shot his men. Shot everything that moved. Pretty much did the house so bad that day, you wouldn’t think it could be this beautiful.”
He remembered Diaz berating him. The horrified look on his face was forever etched in his mind.
“I let Lance get him while I took the others out in the balconies. Diaz was shot, he lost the weapon in his hand.”
Diaz’s shriek rang in his head, and the memory of him hunkering on the floor and gripping his bleeding hand replayed in Tommy’s mind. He was cursing under his breath and screaming ferocious words that proved no point. He tried to reach for the weapon again, but Lance kicked it out of his reach.
“No one else came?” Reena asked, her fingers touching her lips. It was as if she wanted to bite them, and Tommy wondered how the pads of her fingers would have felt on his cusps.
Shaking his head, Tommy forced a smile. “No one came anymore. He told us we’re stupid for what we’ve done to the estate. I kicked him over so he’d lie on his back, then Lance pointed the rifle at his face and shot him.”
Reena lowered her hand, clutching her dress. “That was… extreme.”
“Lance told him it was for his brother.” Tommy smiled. “I think I would’ve done the same.”
Tommy couldn’t say if she was impressed or scared of him after knowing how he’d obtained the estate. He gave too many details, but he couldn’t stop himself from telling how everything happened like he was recalling a precious memory that gave him a unique sense of nostalgia.
“So, after you killed Ricardo Diaz, you took over this property?!”
Tommy smiled bitterly and nodded. If he could take back what he said and censor the bloody details, he would. Reena was probably aware of the kind of life he was living in, considering that she and Claude might have undergone dangers just the same. She might no longer be foreign to a felon's life because she was with another felon, but still, Tommy couldn’t help but feel he'd gone overboard.
As he scanned her wondering eyes, however, he couldn’t see any judgment. No malice. No prejudices. If he were in her place, he would’ve already stood and walked away, considering how brutal the nature of his story and life was. He wouldn’t want to talk to people like him, but she? How could she be this naïve? It was as if his story and his words and his admittance to an illegally-lived life had little to no effect on her.
Reena lifted her gaze as if an idea popped into her mind. “B-But, what about Lance–”
“I’ve been looking for you.”
Tommy was surprised when he heard the voice. Claude stood near the patio looking tiddly. His face was red and his eyes were droopy. He was kind of a mess, really, yet Reena’s first reaction was to stand and approach him, catching his face with her hands.
“Hey… You’re drunk…”
“Oh, am I?” Claude smiled as he leaned forward and pulled her for a kiss.
Tommy watched how she caressed Claude’s face and wiped the fuzziness from his eyes, how she wrapped her arms around his neck, and how she smiled sheepishly against his kiss, the two of them getting lost in the moment.
“Would the two of you like to stay? I have plenty of rooms.” Tommy offered, though he couldn’t shake the feeling of something quite abominable in his gut.
Reena pulled herself from Claude’s kiss, shaking her head. “No, I think we can make it back to the hotel. I’ll drive…” She looked at Tommy with a shy beam on her face as Claude buried his face in her shoulders and started touching her waist.
“Uh-huh… with him slithering all over you, I don’t think you’d be able to drive properly…”
Tommy wasn’t appreciating Claude’s public display of affection, or how he touched her, or how he kissed her, or how, for fuck’s sake, he could be doing something to her tonight.
All of a sudden, Claude jolted up, seemingly vigilant like he was no longer intoxicated. He approached Tommy and tapped his shoulders. “Happy birthday, Tommy.” Claude puffed a potent-smelling acrid breath. “Off-limits…”
Tommy’s lips twitched and quirked up. He didn’t deny it, though he didn’t admit it either, and while he wanted to retaliate, Tommy decided it was best not to fight back with an inebriated man. He just patted Claude’s knuckles, a brief gesture to get the grip off his shoulders. “Thank you, Speed.”
When Claude let go, Reena looked at him apologetically. Claude went back to her and hugged her from behind. “I’m sorry…” she said, looking so embarrassed about how Claude was acting.
“My men will be driving you back home. They’ll give you my number and call me when you’re already there, okay?”
“Y-You don’t have to do that, I can drive,” she refused.
Tommy saw Claude pressing his hips a bit behind her, causing his heart to skip a bit. His fists clenched into a ball, but he held himself back, keeping the ire within the bounds of his awareness.
“It’s already dark. I insist,” he said, trying to ignore everything that Claude was doing. “Besides, I wanna make sure you’d be safe.”
A smile slowly occupied her lips, and for a second, Tommy thought he’d seen her eyes spark – the same shimmers he saw whenever she was looking at Claude.
“Thank you, Tommy,” she said, her voice calming and pleasant.
“Don’t mention it.”
Two of his henchmen, Marcus and Leigh, helped Reena mount Claude into the Comet. Tommy told them to drive the two back to the Ocean View Hotel safely. From the gates, he watched as they drove away, and Reena waved back at him before they disappeared on the road.
Some of the guests were already leaving. The boisterous music began to soften. Cars drove out of the estate, leaving the mansion bare once more. His bedroom was now empty, devoid of Mercedes’s presence.
But Tommy? He had never felt this fulfilled. Who would have thought that with just a small talk, his whole day would turn around? His celebration had never been so remarkable. It was something he’d be thinking about for the days to come. Maybe week. Maybe months. Or longer.
As his night was just about to end, Tommy felt his phone ring. Looking at its screen, he found himself grinning from ear to ear, pressing the button to answer the call.
It would be nice to hear the distraction’s voice before he went to sleep.
Notes:
This is in reference to Death Row and Rub Out (GTA Vice City) and Chapter 38: The Celebration in The Reaper Man.
The dialogues used in the flashback in this chapter mainly were fleshed out from the missions in an attempt to novelize the scenes. I do not take credit for any of these.
How are you all doing? I hope you're feeling fine. It's been a rough week, and I wish you had a better one.
Thank you for reading! <3
Chapter 7: Realizations
Chapter Text
TOMMY INTENDED TO attend to the papers in his office that he was not able to accomplish due to his birthday celebration, yet, he ended up focusing on and enjoying the cheesecake. Every bite was exquisite – the fine crumbs of the buttery base tickled the roof of his mouth, and the decadence of the creamy filling burst on his palate. He hadn’t noticed that he’d devoured everything, almost licking the whole plate, too engrossed in reveling in the sweet treat. No work had been finished, but it was fine. He enjoyed the gift and the thought of the distraction too much. It wouldn’t matter if it took him another day to finish all this shit.
His pleasures, however, diminished in an instant when Ken Rosenberg stormed into his office, waving a VHS tape in his hand. He looked mortified, but also excited, and the combination of emotions felt wrong on the lawyer’s grimaced face.
“You must watch this!”
“Don’t waste my time, I’m begging you,” he muttered, scowling. Perhaps, if there had been more cheesecake on his plate, he would’ve reacted more nicely, but Tommy had already eaten it all. There was no reason to be nice anymore.
Ken’s insistence, much to Tommy’s dismay, was irrefutable. “Oh, you’ll never know what you’re missing until you watch this!”
Tommy stopped and resigned, sighing a breath of frustration. “Fuck, Ken, if this is a waste of my time, I’m gonna slit your throat!”
ROMANO’S SPECIAL. The words were written on the side of the tape. Tommy snatched it from Ken’s hand and examined it with a lack of interest. He’d watched multiple pornographic films. He even had his own adult film production company for fuck’s sake! Tommy knew every ridiculous plot twist, stupidly written script, and movement of actors as they shagged.
With all these dull thoughts, he insipidly put the VHS in play.
Tommy stared at the television screen with his eyes half-shut. A man was holding a video camera and recording his way toward a dark room. He turned on the lamp on the side, revealing a woman bending on the bed, half of her body on the cushion and the other half hanging at the edge.
A man with a big belly fucking an unconscious woman on the bed. “Is this what you wanted me to watch, you pervert?!” he exclaimed.
“I’ll fast-forward it, you’ll see!” Ken explained as he picked up the remote control.
“You know, just fuck off!”
Before he picked up a knife and slashed Ken’s neck, Tommy decided to leave the office until the tape was disposed of. He grabbed his suit jacket that lay on the couch’s armrest, aiming for the exit when his attention was suddenly caught by the screen. Ken paused the film, showing a different angle, and the woman’s face was now so clear. A close-up shot. All his first impressions about the film instantly changed. His eyes gawked, and Tommy found himself approaching the television.
Ken began to laugh at his back, seemingly expecting his reaction. “Would you believe it?”
Tommy looked closer and observed keener, trying to verify if his eyes were just fooling him, but no. The soft waves of her hair. The undeniably flawless skin. The blushing freckled face. And those pair of hazel eyes in tears. It was definitely her.
He slumped back in his seat in utter disbelief. The distraction.
“So, what can you say?” Ken asked. It was as if he was waiting for him to say more.
“Where did you get this?”
“Somebody just sent this here. It’s for you.”
Tommy’s hand closed around Ken’s neck. “Why the fuck are you opening the packages that aren’t yours?!”
“Alright, I know! I’m sorry!”
“You’re a moron!”
Tossing him away, Tommy snatched the remote control, stopped the film, and ejected the tape. With the film in his hand, Tommy sprinted into the garage and jumped into his car. Without a second thought, he hurtled out of the driveway, heading to Ocean Beach.
Whoever sent the package to his estate discovered he knew Reena. There was a reason why they were sending him the tape, and he needed to find out why.
His phone rang. Though in a hurry, he had no choice but to slow down. “Vercetti,” he answered as he held the phone to his ear, his foot still pressing on the pedal.
“Hey Tommy, it’s Steve…”
“Did something happen to the studio?” he asked as he rounded the corner to Ocean Drive.
“Oh no, no, in fact, somebody gave me copies of a tape.”
Tommy slammed his foot on the brake, halting the car. “What tape?!”
“These were samples. I didn’t know–”
“Listen, Steve,” he said as he resumed driving again, “don’t watch those fucking tapes!” He hung up and sped toward Ocean View Hotel.
Fuck, they even sent it there!
While he dashed on the road, he couldn’t shake the image of Reena in his mind. Bare. He watched the man doing the nasty thing behind her, pulling her hair, and even though the audio was poor, he could hear her stifled grunts. The man behind was growling, panting, almost reaching the peak of his madness, while she clutched the sheets and whimpered.
Who the fuck did that to her?!
His car skidded as he parked in front of the hotel, almost scratching the car behind him. Tommy took the tape and raced toward the lounge, climbing up the flights of stairs so fast he hadn’t noticed he reached the top floor in more or less than a minute. When he came to their door, his fists automatically landed on the surface, knocking loudly.
“Speed!”
A soft moan. Tommy paused, second-guessing whether to knock again until he heard panic clattering followed by approaching heavy thuds. The door flew half-open, and he was welcomed by his friend’s sullen yet blushing face like that of the previous night while he was drunk.
Claude was in his pajamas and holding a throw pillow, seemingly covering something. When Tommy looked over Claude’s shoulder, on the couch, he saw Reena buttoning her blouse, and a sudden heat shot up in Tommy’s throat. He quickly took his gaze away from her, realizing that he was looking at her longer than he was supposed to. He wasn’t even supposed to look at her in the first place!
“You gotta come with me to the studio,” he said while he panted, partly because he dashed up three flights of stairs, and partly because he was struggling to shun her image in his mind… an image he shouldn’t have fucking seen. The pleasured sound he heard when he arrived and Claude half-opening the door with his face red and a pillow over his fucking crotch. Claude grimaced and rolled his eyes, making Tommy realize what they were doing… and what he inadvertently stopped.
Without letting go of the door handle, Claude turned around, seemingly asking for Reena’s permission.
“I’ll be alright,” she said, tucking her hair behind her ear, grabbing the book lying on the table. “Good day, Tommy,” she greeted with a smile, waving at him from the couch, a total opposite of Claude’s reception to his arrival.
“Hello, Reena…” He wanted to say more, but he just couldn’t. Not after what he saw.
Tommy stood in the doorway while he waited for Claude to get changed. Reena waved, inviting him to come in, but he just shook his head and beamed, thinking it would be better if he kept his distance. It felt so uncomfortable to look at her as throngs of questions ran through his mind, especially about the film.
“You sure you don’t wanna come in?” she asked, fully naïve of what was going on.
All Tommy could do was nod and smile nervously.
What the fuck happened to you?
In a few minutes, Claude returned, his leather jacket on and a handgun tucked into a holster on the side. He went to Reena and kissed her on the forehead, whispering something to her ears.
Tommy felt a pinch in his chest, but his mind kept on chanting the same thing.
Off-limits. Off-limits. Fucking OFF-LIMITS!
The way he and Claude dashed in the hallway and down the stairs felt like a marathon. His heart pumped so loud in his chest, unsure how to break the news to his friend, more or less worried about how he’d react. Tommy didn’t know if Claude was aware that something like the film existed, or if he knew about this part of his distraction’s past, but the abominable feeling wouldn’t go away soon.
Once they made it to the lounge of the hotel, Tommy cleared his throat, making Claude look in his direction. “Somebody sent a tape to the mansion. Ken found and watched it before I did.”
“What tape?!”
Tommy stopped, and much to his hesitation, he stuck out his hand, showing him the VHS tape.
Claude snatched it from his hand and gripped it so strongly that the case almost broke. “Who the fuck sent this?! And why did you watch it?!”
Tommy didn’t know how to answer the question. In his defense, he didn’t know the film was about Reena. He didn’t even have the interest, to begin with, and if he could pull his eyes out and scrub them off of the memories of what he’d seen, he would’ve already done it.
“There’s no return address,” he answered, deliberately ignoring Claude’s question, wishing that his friend would just drop it.
Tommy walked around the car and jumped in the passenger seat. Yet, as soon as he buckled the seatbelt, the questions he’d been holding back flowed relentlessly. “Who made these films?” he asked, straining against the surge of anger in his chest. “Why does Reena have a sex film?”
For a moment, he saw how hesitant his friend was to answer. Once the car started moving, heading toward the north, Claude cleared his throat. “Her stepfather, Romano Sanchez.”
“He must’ve sent these,” Tommy construed while he stared at the tape on the dashboard. But why would someone send it to him?
“No,” Claude retorted almost instantly. “He was already dead, so there’s no fucking way it was him.”
“Dead?!”
“His head was… amputated.”
Tommy stared at Claude for a while, trying to process what he’d just said. But as soon as realization struck him, Tommy couldn’t help but gape and cackle aloud. “You are so nasty and brutal! Did you do that?!” He was amazed to find out, and even though Claude didn’t say it directly, he knew Claude was the one who slaughtered the man.
“He was pestering Reena. Called her one time and asked her to come to his suite. I took the chance knowing where he was.”
“That fuckin’ jackass… he deserved it a hundred percent!” The second-hand anger he felt was very despairing, considering that he could no longer do anything to the stepfather after learning what he did to the distraction. He hated sex offenders, and he and Claude had their own ways of showing their displeasure against them. He agreed with what his friend did, and if it made him feel any, it was that he felt satisfied.
“That’s why there was no way it was him.”
“But, if it isn’t him, who else could it be?” Tommy inquired.
“There’s someone I think who might still have access to the tapes…”
As Claude drove faster, Tommy plunged deeper into his thoughts. The first time he saw Reena – the distraction – he thought she was just a temporary person, someone who would just come and go, too gullible and impeccable to the kind of world Claude was living in. Just a distraction. A diversion to goals. A barrier to revenge. He aimed to bring out that she wouldn’t last until she herself would decide to leave and stop the madness, yet, Tommy didn’t know that behind everything, she likewise had an awful past that pulled her close to Claude. He thought of her, somehow filled with sympathy, but he was more curious. More tempted. More infatuated.
But he knew she was off-limits.
The InterGlobal Films studio was busy that day. The noise in one of the buildings blared across the compound. Guttural moans of pleasure, a mixture of a hollow male and high-pitched female crescendos welcomed them as they entered one of the studios. Tommy could barely see, the whole backstage was draped in darkness, and the blinding dazzles of the spotlight toward the scene caused a throbbing pain in his head. Steve’s face contorted in motion while he waved his hands at the actors. Candy Suxxx was on all fours, groaning unintelligible screams of desire, while the man behind her thrust his best, hands tightly gripping the starlet’s luscious hips.
Tommy's stomach churned. It was rather mundane to him after getting past the moment of exhilaration whenever he witnessed an actual taping, but now, it felt… wrong. Of course, it was Steve Scott’s passion; he couldn’t take it away from the director. All his actors were consenting and on contract, paid, and gaining profits. It was a business he’d taken, yet, he started to feel it was something he had to let go of. He couldn’t keep it, not with the distraction around.
Claude suddenly stepped in front of the director, stopping the latter from what he was doing. In palpable frustration, Steve yelled, halting all the actions in an instant. “Who’s this idiot? You! You! Why are you here in my space? Why?”
Below the suspended figures of sharks and spaceships at the top of the bedroom scene, Tommy took his place beside Claude. “Fuck, Steve, cut it out!”
Steve Scott was mortified, and the actors quickly left the area while rushing to put their clothes on. He took off his tinted eyeglasses and gawked at them in shock. “Tommy! I’m sorry I didn’t recognize you! I’m in the middle of filming!”
Tommy pondered whether he should keep the studio. What if she finds out–
“Where are the tapes?” Claude immediately inquired, nonchalant about his surroundings.
The director’s eyes raked Claude from head to toe, seemingly fascinated at his sight. “Who’s he?” he asked with keen interest. “New actor? I bet he’d do better than my–”
“Steve,” Tommy called out after the director stopped midway, seeing the glare in Claude’s eyes, “the tapes…”
“T-They’re in my office…”
Reluctantly, Steve Scott led them to the room at the back of the studio. On the table lay a couple of VHS tapes with the same title as the one they possessed. Tommy asked Steve where the tapes came from, and the director explained that an old friend arrived yesterday and gave him the copies. Much to his dread, Steve’s friend also asked to meet him specifically, which seemed to push Claudes’s buttons.
“It’s a business proposal for ya,” Steve ended his explanation as he handed over a card with a number to call. After Tommy looked at his friend, he seized the card from Steve’s hand and dialed the number. He pressed the loudspeaker and waited for someone to pick up on the other line.
Somebody answered immediately. “Bet you’re interested in the tapes,” the man said. Claude and Steve Scott listened keenly, seemingly holding their breaths.
“Who the fuck are you?” Tommy asked, struggling to keep calm.
“That isn’t the question I wanna hear…”
“How much?”
“Don’t you wanna know how many tapes there are first?” The man’s voice was so condescending like he knew he had the upper hand.
“Okay,” Tommy huffed, “how many?”
“About ten copies each.”
“How much?” He could feel his temper running out.
“I’m pretty sure this worth’s a lot. Do you have the girl?”
Tommy was on the edge. Once he opened his mouth again, there was no turning back. It might make the situation worse. A multitude of curses plagued his head, but he couldn’t blurt them out, not yet. Instead, he gave the turn to Claude, motioning his hand angrily toward the device.
Claude moved forward. “Name the price.”
“You must be the reaper man. This is El Burro of the Diablos. You have my property.”
Property? Is he fucking referring to Reena?!
“Cartel?!” Claude’s face contorted.
“Nope.” The man on the other end seemed to sneer.
“Gotorelli.”
“Hah… A hundred grand. Leaf Links. For better negotiation, bring me the girl.”
The call got disconnected, and as the beep ran along, Tommy, Claude, and Steve stood motionless. After a few more grueling seconds, Claude grabbed the device and slammed the phone back into the switch hook.
“He wants to meet in Leaf Links… with Reena.”
Steve Scott asked something, but Tommy didn’t hear him. Tommy was too preoccupied with the call, and he knew that Claude was too.
“So, what’s the plan now, Speed?”
“Let’s destroy that fucking Diablo…” Claude said as he aimed for the door.
“Speed,” Tommy called out, stopping Claude midway. “We gotta tell her.”
Claude looked back at him, eyes vicious. “No, we don't.”
His answer was firm, but Tommy wasn’t convinced. “Aren’t they asking for her?” he probed, walking closer.
“So what?” Claude retorted. “I’m not taking her there.”
“Speed, this is not about you. Reena has the right to know what’s going on.”
Claude’s shoulders stiffened. “I could kill him just like what I did to Romano, and she didn’t have to know.”
“You’re treating her like she can’t do shit for herself!”
“What the fuck did you say?!”
“Look, Speed!” Tommy poked a finger into Claude’s chest, making the latter step back. “Think about this. Don’t you think she’d want to decide what to do with him? Give her a chance to fucking avenge herself!”
Slapping his finger off, Claude charged and grabbed his shirt near the neck. “No one’s fucking hurting her again!”
“Have you talked to her about what she felt when you took care of her stepfather?” Tommy hollered and braced. “All you think about is yourself, but you never thought of asking her!”
Claude raised a fist, ready to throw a punch. Tommy shoved him away, forcing Claude to let go of his grip.
“I did it for her.” Claude’s vicious eyes burned. “Reena… she was miserable. I won’t let her go through that again…”
“Then, let her take control.” Tommy stood straight and tugged the collars of his shirt. “It’s not your call to make.”
~~~~~~~~~~
The chirping crickets overwhelmed the garden that surrounded Leaf Links docks, and Tommy propped his back behind a huge boulder that surrounded the area. With an assault rifle in his arms, he watched as a couple of Stallions arrived, the Diablos oblivious of his and his mobsters’ presence.
It seemed like Claude would not yield, but Tommy was surprised that he told Reena about it when they got back. He watched his friend wrap his arms around her, soothing her while she cried. Her voice trembled with every word that came out of her lips, saying the same thing over and over.
I was right… he was still looking for me.
Tommy found himself leaning on the doorway with his arms folded and head bowed down. Claude tried to convince her to just let him and Tommy do what they had to, but Reena spoke for herself. She didn’t want to be afraid anymore. Tommy wanted Claude to realize that he needed to let Reena have the final say… that what was happening was not about him but was all about her. She was the one who’d been disgraced, hurt, and violated, and it wouldn’t make a difference if Claude had taken care of everything.
Like them, his friend was taking away her autonomy. Claude had to give it back to her.
Revenge. Tommy always believed in it. Reena had to take back her power, and as long as she was hiding in the shadows of Claude’s protection, she wouldn’t be able to get on her feet on her own. She didn’t need to put blood on her hands. They would do it for her very willingly, but she had to give the command.
Tommy and his men watched as Claude and Reena met with El Burro. He couldn’t hear what they were talking about, but Claude was exasperated while Reena just stood beside him, motionless. Holding each other’s hands, they walked to the back of the Stallion. The Diablos followed them. Seeing how El Burro looked at Reena as if he was undressing her, Tommy tightened his grip on the rifle, itching to pull the trigger, wanting to shoot the sick fucker in the head.
The trunk of the Stallion flipped open, but when Claude was about to get the bag, the Diablos surrounded them. Though they’d been walled, Tommy could still see Reena, and she was what he needed to start the attack.
We’re getting rid of them, distraction.
Clasping the rifle tightly between his arm and torso, Tommy peered over the barrel and aimed at one of the Diablos nearest to the car. With his calloused finger feeling the curve of the frigid trigger, Tommy took the shot. His mobsters followed suit and sniped the rest of the Diablos dead, each of their bodies hitting the floor one by one.
Amid the chaos, Claude swung the bat he was holding toward El Burro, hitting him in the back of his shoulders, sending him kneeling to the floor.
Reena stood on the side with her head lowered, eyes closed, and hands on her ears.
As soon as the perimeter was secured and emptied, Tommy and his men came out from their posts, revealing themselves to the lone Diablo leader. He stood beside Claude as the interrogation went on, but more frequently, he’d glance at the distraction. Every time Claude asked a question and raised his voice, Reena would churn and flinch.
El Burro spat at Claude’s face. Fucking dipshit.
The bat was smashed into the Diablo leader’s stomach, sending him pummeled to the ground. El Burro lay on his back, mouth bleeding, gurgling, and screaming in agony. Tommy loomed over him, seeing how helpless El Burro was.
“Where are the fucking real copies?!”
“He won’t talk…” Reena mumbled in a strained voice. Something in her reverberated that Tommy couldn’t fathom.
“Of course, he will…”
Claude raised the bat and aimed at El Burro’s face, but the Diablo leader screamed and begged for his life, revealing the tapes’ location.
Scoffing victoriously, Claude shoved the cap into the Diablo leader’s cheeks. “What do you want us to do, babe?” he asked, looking at Reena over his shoulders.
“You fuckin’ deserve your name,” Tommy interjected, recalling how smug El Burro was while talking to them on the phone. Now, he looked so puny and vulnerable, but for Tommy, it wasn’t enough. “You do really look like a donkey from here.”
El Burro prayed for Reena’s mercy, asking for her forgiveness, telling her he didn’t want to die. Reena just looked at him indifferently, and as El Burro expelled tears and sweat and drool on the ground, she stood still, her hands curling on the side.
“You didn’t listen to me when I pleaded back then…”
When Tommy looked at her, he found it in her eyes. Resentment. It was the first time he’d seen it in her, and truth be told, he was glad the vindictive part of her came out. She deserved to feel it. She had all the reasons to. She was abused, tarnished, and wrecked in the worst possible way. And now that one of those responsible for breaking her apart cried for her pity, Tommy couldn’t help but wish for the distraction to be cruel, to lash out, to say every bad thing that she could think of, even to throw a kick or a punch or a slap.
But she was just there, standing calmly with such graceful wrath.
Tommy knew that Claude could feel it too.
“Do as you please,” Reena muttered with lackluster eyes, blank as ever. “Goodbye, El Burro.” Then, she spun on her feet and walked away.
“Atta girl,” Tommy whispered and grinned at his friend.
Claude looked at Tommy approvingly as he pushed the bat into El Burro’s open mouth. Then, Tommy pointed the muzzle of the weapon at the Diablo leader’s head.
He smirked, making sure that his smile would be the last thing El Burro would see with his eyes, and he and Claude would be the last men to see his whole face because he’d be gone on the face of the earth.
The distraction would never see him again.
Notes:
This is in reference to Chapter 39: The Retail and Chapter 40: The Cleansing in The Reaper Man.
How are you? Life's getting more challenging lately, but we're getting by!
Thank you for reading! <3
Chapter 8: Seeing Through
Notes:
Waiting for Christmas is too long for me >.< Apologies for a Christmas chapter in November!
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
AS THE FIRST ray of sunlight seeped through the blinds of the master bedroom’s windows, Tommy pushed himself up, flipping the sheets that covered his half-bare body on the mattress. His head ached a bit, feeling the aftermath of his solo drinking spree the other night, welcoming yet another lonesome Christmas Eve. But today, everything would be different. Claude asked for his help to prepare surprises for Reena, and Tommy had been invited to celebrate the day with them.
The last real Christmas celebration he had was more than two decades ago, with his old man, and they just drank beer together, watching the fireworks on the old Waterfront Promenade in Chinatown. In Vice City, Tommy had no memory specific to any holiday celebration but just himself drinking alone. That was when he realized how long it had been since he recognized Christmas as a holiday.
He expected the same, but things changed two days ago when Claude brought him to The Jewellers.
A special gift for Reena. A pink diamond necklace.
If he were Claude, he would’ve bought her more than that. In fact, Tommy would buy the fanciest and most expensive ring in the store, completely embellished with the rarest gem ever there was. But who was he to make the call? He wasn’t the boyfriend in the first place. Also, he didn’t want to stir up an idea that Tommy might regret in the long run.
He knew he could do better than Claude if he were in Claude’s place.
A week after what happened to El Burro, like Claude, Tommy worried about the distraction. No doubt, she blamed herself for what happened. Tommy felt that his insistence to let her make the decision herself caused her more harm than good. He didn’t want her to feel that way. It was never his intention.
While in The Jewellers, Tommy couldn’t stop asking so much about her. How she was doing, how she was coping by, how Claude was trying to make her feel better until his friend was already pissed off all his questions.
Claude asked him if he’d gotten rid of the tapes.
He burned the tapes. He burned them all, and not an inch of his skin wanted to see them again.
After a quick shower, he dialed Claude’s number, but the phone just rang. A couple of more tries and Tommy stopped calling. He’d just drop by the hotel and wait for Claude there.
As Tommy reached the foyer, he found his henchmen, Marcus and Leigh, standing by the main door. The twins looked at him and grinned.
“Merry Christmas, Boss!” Leigh said.
With a big smile on his face, Tommy climbed down the stairs. “Yacht’s ready?”
“Yes, Boss,” Marcus answered. “The chef’s arriving too. It’ll dock here by eleven.”
“Good. See you.”
Tommy excitedly wore his sunglasses and scooted to the garage while singing Feliz Navidad as if he knew the lyrics to the song by heart. He whistled the tune as he drove out of the estate, cruising on the bridge that led to the Vice City Beach area. While he jovially drummed his fingers on the steering wheel and bobbed his head up and down, he observed the spectacles on the road and the establishments all around. Various colors of lights and decorations gave a unique ambiance, the lively atmosphere stretching along the streets and shores that lined up Ocean Drive.
In no time, he reached the Ocean View Hotel, amazed by how its lounge transformed. A decorated Christmas tree was erected in the middle with a golden star on top. A certain Christmas song played in a crackling speaker somewhere. The hotel’s intricate interior was now filled with vibrant lights twinkling joyously in all corners. He’d never seen the hotel lounge so lively.
Suddenly, his phone buzzed. It was a message from Claude.
“Be down in a minute.”
So, he waited, and though he could go upstairs to see the distraction already, Tommy thought it would be nice to wait until later. He walked around the lounge, running his fingers on the garland furnishings. The Christmas balls that hung on the tree caught his attention. For each ball he could reach, he’d swing it like a pendulum so it hit the other. The Christmas tree shook a little when he pushed one of the balls too hard, alarming him.
“What the hell are you doing, Tommy?”
He was startled to hear Claude’s voice, finding his friend standing at the foot of the stairs. Tommy let out a nervous chuckle and shrugged his shoulders, to which Claude responded with churning eyebrows. Dismissing Claude’s reaction, he grinned and put his hands in his pockets.
“Shall we? It’s already open…”
They drove to Vice Point, discovering more magnificent things that showcased the city’s celebration of the Yuletide season. The street was filled with people, couples, families, and groups of friends who celebrated Christmas together. Restaurants were jampacked, gift stores were occupied, and even the theater nearby had a long line of people waiting for its opening.
Everything looked like innocent, fleeting moments until Tommy caught a glimpse of a crowd along the way. A man with an exaggeratedly long fake, white beard and a protruding beer belly in a velvety red and cottony white costume was distributing candies to children. People approached the man, probably parents, dragging their children and forcing them to have their pictures taken with the mascot, which some of them didn’t seem to like.
“Father Christmas my ass,” Tommy groaned as he approached the mascot, leaving Claude behind. When the last kid left after snagging a candy bar from the mascot’s hand, Tommy went to him. “You Santa Claus?!”
The man was baffled by his question. The children and adults stared at them, the former eagerly awaiting an answer. Clearing his throat, seemingly embarrassed, the man patted Tommy’s shoulder. “Ho, ho, ho! Yes, I am! Merry Christmas to you, big man!”
“Why are you saying hoe?” Tommy asked, flinching his shoulder to get Santa Claus’ hand off. “Anyway, can I have a candy bar?”
The man squinted. He leaned closer to Tommy and bowed his head. “It’s just for kids, man. Why don’t you buy candy somewhere else?! You’re ruining my day…”
Tommy jeered, looking over the man’s shoulder and seeing the children interested in whether Father Christmas would give him a candy bar or not. “You know,” he said, wearing a snide smile, subtly cracking his knuckles, “I’ve never seen you when I was a child, probably because I wasn’t a good boy…”
The man forced out a trembling chuckle. He was stiff, looking as if his heart reached his throat. In an instant, Santa Claus fumbled in the sack he was carrying, drawing out a candy bar and giving it to Tommy.
“H-Here you go… I think you’re a good boy now…”
Snickering, Tommy grabbed the candy bar. “Thanks, Santa.”
All of a sudden, the children cheered for the mascot while the adults glared at Tommy with disgust, whispering shameful remarks. And like the adults, Claude rolled his eyes and started marching away, keeping a distance from him. Tommy cackled as he tore the candy bar’s wrapper, revealing a chocolate-coated crunch inside.
“Bullying Santa in front of kids? That’s very inspiring, Tommy.”
“He looks like selling crack to me…” he said, biting on the candy bar. It was too sweet. He couldn’t even taste the crackers.
“I know only one person selling crack here in Vice City.”
“It’s not crack, Speed. It’s Spank.”
Their bickering led them to The Jewellers. Feeling a rush of excitement, Tommy pushed the door open.
The attendant saw him, bracing in his spot. “W-Welcome to The Jewellers, gentlemen. Are you here for the n-necklace?”
“Why else will we be here?” Tommy leaned forward, pressing his forearm on the counter.
Claude shook his head and stood beside him. “Today, you said?” he asked the attendant.
“Most certainly, sir. Give me a moment.”
As soon as the man went to the back of the store, Tommy noticed the place’s likeliness to the hotel lounge. It was as adorned and spirited as the other places, seeing how the store took a 180 turn in just a few days. The song Feliz Navidad played in the background, and Tommy couldn’t help but jive, tapping his feet on the floor, beating along with the repetitive music.
“Never seen Christmas so vibrant before,” he commented.
“Thought you didn’t believe in Christmas.”
“I believe in Santa. Got a bar of candy from him.” Tommy waved the empty wrapper. “I thought you didn’t too…”
“Reena does.”
That same reason explained perfectly why Tommy agreed to celebrate the day in the first place.
When the attendant came out and laid in front of them the velvet box that contained the necklace, Tommy and Claude couldn’t hold their excitement. The pendant shone gloriously on the silk cushion it was lying on, looking so opulent from every angle.
Tommy imagined Reena wearing it, and he felt his heart thump, soft and warm in his chest. “That’s fantastic.” It was all that he could say. In his mind, he imagined how it glimmered on her neck, and with her sparkling hazel eyes and beautiful smile, the necklace would definitely be a sight to behold. “Time to start the surprises now, eh?” he asked, clapping a hand on Claude’s shoulder.
“Yeah…” Claude’s eyes remained on the necklace, seemingly imagining something, and Tommy was certain they were thinking of the same thing. “I’m sure she’ll love them…”
~~~~~~~~~~
The table was already filled with a variety of delicious food. There was a stuffed turkey with roasted vegetables, a huge plate of Italian spaghetti with meatballs, a green salad, parfait, and a bottle of champagne. Tommy puffed nervously at the sight of the food, feeling they weren’t enough. He asked Claude what Reena would like, and he said she wasn’t a picky eater, but she loved to have vegetables.
“Marcus, do you think I should buy more? Is this enough?”
“Relax, Boss. That’s good.”
Tommy took a last glance at the food and went back inside the cabin. There, he combed his hair, wiping a gel over it to keep the strands intact. He wanted to look fine and presentable to his visitors when they arrived, particularly, to the distraction. He wore his favorite Hawaiian shirt, leaving the last button near the chest undone, accentuating the gold chain necklace.
As he sprayed cologne on his neck, he heard Leigh call from the deck. “Boss, I think it’s them!”
A craft roared outside, urging him to hurry.
“Hello, Marcus! Merry Christmas! Where’s Leigh?”
She’s here.
“He’s on the other side, Miss Reena…”
Tommy ran a last flick on his eyebrows and scampered up to the deck, smiling widely as he saw Reena in a thin white blouse and a shawl barely covering her hips down. He felt himself blush, but he quickly forced out a greeting. “Welcome!” he said, reluctantly tugging his gaze to Claude.
Reena smiled widely. “Tommy… I’m glad to see you here!”
“Me too.” Very much, indeed.
Claude came up to her side and put his arm around her shoulders. “We’re having our lunch here and a little tour in the afternoon.”
“Really?!” The excitement in her voice was delightful to hear.
“Second gift. Also, Tommy’s,” Claude said while glancing at him briefly. “We’ll be sailing toward the Marina. Eat some good food, drink some champagne, do things you like. Does that sound good?”
She nodded. Tommy and Claude walked to the other side of the deck where the food was waiting. The moment she saw the feast on the table, Reena’s eyes sparkled even more, hands clutching above her rising chest, mouth gasping in exhilaration. Tommy felt accomplished that she found the food breathtaking, solidifying the smile on his lips. He enjoyed seeing the gleam on her face, very contrasting to her weary look back in Leaf Links.
“Y-You could’ve told me so I could have baked something, at least!” she retorted. Claude pulled a seat for her, which she sheepishly accepted.
“Give yourself a rest for today, Reena,” Tommy said as he sat a chair apart from her. “If you like, we can order a cake!” he suggested, knowing how much she loved to make one.
“Oh, no! These are enough for us all! I can’t… I can’t even remember the last time I had turkey!”
“You can have as much as you want.” Claude smiled, put the juicy leg of the meat on a plate, and gave it to her.
Tommy reached out for the bottle of champagne in a bucket, tearing the foil open and pointing the bottle’s mouth outward. He quickly twisted the wire around the cork, holding the neck of the bottle down to his abdomen. Twisting the cap too quickly, the cork flew like a speeding bullet, shooting down to the water in a projectile motion. The champagne bubbled and overflowed, spilling its contents toward his trousers.
“Ah, shit! My pants!” Tommy yelled as the alcohol sloshed into his clothes. He grabbed a napkin and shook his wet palm before setting the bottle on the table. “I really fucking hate champagne,” he grumbled as embarrassment filled him for soiling himself in front of the distraction.
“That’s a Merry Christmas to you, Tommy,” Claude taunted.
“Let me get you a wet napkin,” Reena immediately said.
Tommy stopped her but she was too fast to stand, grab another napkin, and head into the cabin. “She shouldn’t have bothered…” he said as he made futile attempts to wipe off the stain.
“You cried like a baby, what do you expect?” Claude moaned as he filled the glasses with the liquor.
“This is a hundred-dollar pants, Speed.”
“Well, you should buy something waterproof next time.”
He was about to snap back when Reena emerged from the cabin, handing him the wet napkin. Tommy accepted it and wiped it on his hands and pants.
“Thank you. You didn’t have to do that,” he mumbled.
Reena smiled at him and winked. “Don’t mention it!”
That was his fucking gesture. Tommy couldn’t help the burst of laughter, profoundly stunned and elated to witness her using his own mannerisms toward him. He didn’t notice how ridiculous he looked as he did that to her, but she, on the other hand, looked adorable. “That is clever,” he said, chuckling.
As Reena sat back, Claude distributed the champagne glasses to all of them. Tommy grabbed his glass and raised his hand toward the table’s center, near Claude and Reena. He looked at the bowl, seeing how the sun’s rays reflected on its rim and the sparkling drink it held. He couldn’t say how much the day was so special to him, with it being the only time he genuinely celebrated with someone he wanted to be with. It felt like his years of numbing and familiar desolation vanished into the thin airs, making him warm and belong.
“Merry Christmas to us…” he said, and Claude and Reena toasted with his wine glass, the clinking, cheerful sound commencing their celebration.
While they feasted on the scrumptious food on the table, the yacht sailed toward the open seas, heading for the Marina’s rock formations. Reena had been eating a lot of turkey, which Tommy found amusing, but she caught him watching her as she stuffed her mouth with more meat, making her stop.
“I’m sorry, I’m eating a lot…” she apologized. “It’s not that I don’t like the other food, but this turkey’s so good…”
“Carry on, Reena,” Tommy assured her as he grabbed another slice and put it on her plate, which in turn, made her look thrilled. “Do you have another request?”
She shook her head. “No, no! This is enough, I swear! And please, stop putting more…”
“And why?” Claude asked as he sliced another and laid it beside the meat that was already on her plate.
“Because,” she said as she swallowed, grabbing the knife and fork once again, “I’m gonna eat all of it and I’m gonna get bloated–”
Tommy could no longer hold his laughter, Claude either, making Reena drop the utensils.
Claude’s eyes gaped. “Oh, no, don’t put them down–”
“You’re making fun of me!”
“No, we’re not!” Tommy said, but he chortled once again.
It took them time to convince Reena to continue to eat, causing her to become overly conscious. She’d glare at them whenever she put something in her mouth. Tommy pretended he wasn’t watching, but she seemed to know and later on, learned to ignore him and Claude.
“I thought she liked vegetables,” he whispered to Claude, trying to conceal his growing laughter again.
“Me too,” his friend affirmed, and they both burst into another peal of laughter.
“Are you talking about me again?” she asked while lifting an eyebrow.
Tommy shook his head, unwilling to let her know that he and Claude had just done. “Say, you wanna try the jet ski?” he offered, diverting her attention. The Marina was ideal for sailing on a watercraft, and it was near the Vercetti Estate. He and Claude talked about it as one of the plans for the day – let Reena experience riding a jet ski with either of the two of them.
Her expression turned nervous, eyes showing worry as she looked back and forth between them. “N-No, I-I don’t think so…”
“Come on, we’ll teach you! See that private dock? That’s behind Tommy’s estate. We’ll be close to land, and we’re here to guide you.” Claude insisted.
She seemed very indisposed at first, but when she put the knife and fork down and wiped her hands and mouth, they both knew that she was already on it.
“Okay… but don’t blame me if I break it.”
Break as many jet skis as you like, distraction. I don’t mind.
Claude and Reena stood and headed to the yacht’s stern. Tommy, on the other hand, went to the cabin quickly and changed into shorts. When he came out, Claude had already opened the austere, revealing the jet skis inside.
On the swimming platform, Tommy stepped and went to the first jet ski, lowering himself into the waters. He looked up at Claude and Reena, seeing her removing her shawl, revealing her glorious, flawless legs and that damn ass–
Shut up, Tommy!
“Ready?” Tommy asked nervously, averting his gaze as much as possible.
He sailed forward, giving Claude a space to lower the other and let Reena hop on it. The moment the two were already on the craft, Tommy saw Claude whispering something into her ear. Feeling a pinch in his chest, he accelerated ahead and splashed water at them.
“You like doing that?!” Claude grumbled aloud.
“Yeah! Come on!” Tommy felt triumphant about breaking their moment.
From his position, he watched their craft move so sluggishly as they sailed toward his spot. He griped, thinking that Claude was purposely slowing things down so he could take more time with her. But there was nothing bad if he did. Why was he complaining about it?
When they approached closer, Tommy sailed in circles. “That’s what I’m talking about!” Excitement coursed through his veins. He couldn’t wait for Reena to make a mistake. If she did, Tommy would have the chance to take the turn of having her for a ride.
Reena attempted to steer, but when she failed and both she and Claude fell to the water, Tommy couldn’t help but feel ecstatic.
My time has come.
He went closer and splashed water at them again, further irritating Claude. “Your teacher sucks,” he said as he stuck his hand out to Reena. “It’s my turn now.”
She grabbed his hand and he hoisted her up to the craft, letting her sit in front of him. Tommy tried so hard, but he'd find himself staring down, observing the magnificent thing before him.
“Alright, you better take care of her.” Claude snickered at them. “Care to race?”
“Come on, Reena. We can beat this guy…”
He was too close… too close to her hair, to the back of her neck, to her cheeks… and Tommy could feel something inside him growing. The struggle to keep his posture and to avoid burying himself in the waves of her hair was so tormenting.
Claude pushed forward, sailing away from them and leaving a trail of ripples on the surface. Reena followed suit as Tommy guided her. The hull of the jet ski bumped into the waves, shaking them on the rugged surface of the waters, causing him to press on her.
“Whatever you do, never let go of the trigger,” he said, his hands tightening around her waist after he almost fell into the water. He wouldn’t want that to happen, but it felt so good to feel the curves toward her hips.
Fuck, I’m such a creep.
“Alright, I got it!”
Reena sailed faster, pushing the accelerator even more, and almost instantly, they caught up with Claude. Tommy laughed and teased, seeing his friend snicker back at them. When they were near the docks, Claude slowed down, giving way for Reena to reach the berth first.
“See who’s the champion now?!” Tommy asked proudly as he patted her shoulders. “Good job, Reena.”
Claude sailed to their side, assisting Reena in jumping back onto his jet ski. His friend planted a kiss on her cheek while congratulating her for beating him. However, Tommy heard her complain that Claude slowed down instead of letting her win on her own accord, which made Tommy more charmed.
She had the attitude. A real deal attitude.
He couldn’t imagine how else better he could’ve spent this day.
“Tommy, Reena says one more round!” Claude held on to her waist as she grabbed the control.
“Come on!” he roared, and together, their jet skis sailed to the open seas.
Who was he to refuse another race? Maybe, he could let himself be defeated as well.
~~~~~~~~~~
Tommy sat quietly in the driver’s seat. He was a bit tired, but he was smiling to himself, recalling the last moments he spent with Reena before she and Claude left. He was just standing beside her facing the Waterview as Claude harbored the jet skis with Marcus. Tommy couldn’t stand the awkward silence that surrounded them, so he started a conversation, that, much to his delight, the distraction willingly participated in.
“What makes you believe in Christmas?” he asked her while looking at her over his shoulder.
Her smile was distinct. “I just… like to think that there’s good behind everything,” she muttered, turning at him with a full smile, tilting her head a bit, “like you.”
“What? Me?” He remembered chuckling as he pointed a finger at himself. “I’m not good!”
“I thought you were an asshole at first.”
“You did?!”
“Yeah!” she admitted, flashing a smile on her face… a smile that Tommy would never forget. “But Tommy, there’s more to you than what you show…”
He wasn’t able to answer after that, not even until Reena met with Claude on the patio and walked with him toward the Moonbeam in the estate's front yard. Tommy watched them drive out of the estate, speechless, held within the bounds of her last words about him.
How did she know? Why did she sound so sure? Could she see through me?
Tommy had never felt so exposed... but the way she did made him feel recognized and understood.
The door to Print Works clangoured and scratched as it was pulled close by an old man in blue overalls and a cap. Snapping out of his thoughts, Tommy quickly got out of the car, holding a box wrapped in red and green paper and ribbon, calling for the old man.
“Pops!”
Earnest Kelly turned around. He smiled and walked toward Tommt with his arms wide open in the air. As they met, they embraced, and Tommy felt his frail limbs. Earnest Kelly patted his back a little before letting him go and holding him at arm’s length.
“Well, look who decided to come out on Christmas! Hello, sonny!”
“I have something for you,” Tommy snickered, sticking out his hand and giving the old man the present. Earnest Kelly smiled from ear to ear, and they both sat down on the steps of the front porch of Print Works. He watched his pops tear the wrapper, revealing a box of brand-new shoes.
“Wow… this is the first time you’ve gifted me on Christmas!” Earnest Kelly teased. He removed his leather shoes and tried on the pair. It fitted him well. “What’s with you, Tommy?”
“Well,” he said, looking at the man he treated as his father, “I think I believe in Christmas now.”
The old man put his old shoes into the box that once contained the gift. “Thank you, sonny,” he said as he grabbed and nudged Tommy’s shoulder a bit. “But why? What made you change your mind?”
There was something more to see in everything than they appeared to be. Tommy quietly loathed the kind of life he had. He never felt free, but he realized more people had been feeling imprisoned than where he was. He thought he was alone, his own Family abandoned him many years back only to realize that he’d found a new family in Vice City. He’d been living in luxury, getting everything in just a snap of his fingers – power, money, women – but he thought, perhaps, his life wouldn’t end just like that… banal and purposeless.
Maybe, he was meant to be something else for someone, just like what she said.
Tommy smiled at Earnest Kelly as he leaned forward, propping his elbows on his knees. He looked up at the dark, night sky, seeing the constellations of stars twinkle like beacons in the heavens. Maybe, Santa Claus or whoever granted him something so precious.
As the silent night enveloped him in his deepest thoughts, he turned to Earnest Kelly with a profound gaze.
“I think… I think I found her, Pops…”
Notes:
This is in reference to Chapter 41: Presents and Chapter 42: Mistletoe in The Reaper Man.
Thank you for reading! <3
Chapter Text
FOR THE FIRST time, Tommy found himself thinking deeply about someone. He’d often stare at nowhere, his thoughts filled with wonder, but sometimes, he’d gaze at the mirror, looking for that something more in him Reena was talking about.
Tommy closed his eyes. He pinched the skin above his nose, desperate to get her off his head but to no avail. Convincing himself that pining for her was wrong, he shifted his focus on the papers in front of him, but fuck, her words rang and her smile was etched in his mind! In frustration, he pressed his hands on his head, grabbing fistfuls of his own hair, pulling the strands as if he were tugging out images and memories and thoughts that weren’t supposed to be there.
“Come on, Tommy, stop it…”
For hours on end, he’d been grouching, taking a swig of the leftover scotch he had last Christmas Eve until the pints were not sufficient to drown away his feelings into oblivion. Tommy grabbed the bottle and chugged it in an instant, letting the drops roll down his cheeks and chin.
He needed to forget, he needed to wake up! There was no way he was really feeling this for her. She was Claude’s, and by all means, a stranger. For fuck’s sake, he couldn’t possibly have fallen in–
His phone suddenly rang. A call from an unknown number. Frowning at the digits that were flashed on the screen, Tommy pressed the answer button and put it to his ear, forcing himself to speak despite the gruff throat.
“Vercetti.”
“Tommy!” A thick, South American accent greeted him. “Feliz Navidad, amigo!”
“Why the fuck are you calling me?!”
Miguel had no business with him at all since the transaction was over, and after the deal in Prawn Island, he received no calls or messages from the Cartel. He wasn’t supposed to be calling anymore, but here he was, pestering him with greetings of merriment, though Tommy knew it had to be more than that.
“Amigo, me and my friends, we didn’t like our last transaction…”
“I paid you the fucking two million dollars just like what we have talked about.”
“You see, Tommy, I am Colombian. I want men with loyalty. You have no loyalty,” Miguel said quite disappointingly over the phone, further aggravating Tommy’s pride. “You gave us a million short, and you sent us an enemy…”
“What the fuck are you talking about?! I paid you in full!”
If there were things that Tommy was very certain he would never do, it was to cheat and lie, regardless of who he was dealing with. He couldn’t stomach the fact that the Colombians were accusing him of something he didn’t do. Besides, their problem with Claude wasn’t his to worry about, but Tommy knew that if he didn’t send his friend to trade with the Colombians, things would be less complicated.
Not his burden to carry, but it was undeniably his fault. He shouldn’t have sent Claude.
“My friend,” Miguel muttered, the menace in his voice making Tommy’s blood boil, “have you met the Diablo?”
He felt a nerve twitch in his head. “What did you say?”
“Eh, seems like you took him out for your friend. You’re a good amigo, Tommy, but not to us.”
As things fell into place, Tommy closed his eyes in exasperation, realizing that even El Burro’s arrival in Vice City was a consequence of his doing. He brought the enemies to them. He brought El Burro to her.
Am I really a good friend?
“I don’t care what your problem is with Speed,” he grumbled half-heartedly as guilt swept in like a tide, “but you’re getting out of the line…”
Miguel clicked his tongue. “As payment for your betrayal, we are taking the studio, entiende?”
Rumbling gunshots were followed by people shrieking from the other end, and Tommy could do nothing but listen for a few seconds. As soon as he opened his mouth, realizing what was happening in InterGlobal Films, the call got disconnected.
The Colombians were a pain in the ass, their hounding coming to its height. Tommy’s vision blurred, anger ripping off his chest. In an instant, all the things that he could grab from his desk were sent flying around his office, crashing and smashing on the walls and pavement, including the empty bottle of scotch he’d just consumed.
When there was nothing else to grab, he smashed his fist on the table, and the hardwood desk cracked slightly. With his hands trembling and sore, Tommy ran his fingers through his hair, picking up the phone once more. He tried calling Claude, but his friend never answered.
“Colombians took over my studio.”
“They want war.”
“LET’S GIVE IT TO THEM.”
He slumped on the couch, holding his head once again. Breathe in, breathe out, he tried, but the hammering in his chest never settled. The Colombians were taunting him, but aside from that…
You gave us a million short.
“Tommy!” Ken Rosenberg’s voice started him as the lawyer stormed into his office. “Steve called me! Was it true? Are they really in the studio?”
His jaw clenched. “Not for long…”
On the side, he opened the closet, revealing a huge collection of firearms. Taking rifles and bullet belts, he put them all in the trunk of his car and instructed his mobsters to get their weapons prepared. He wore a bulletproof vest under his shirt as he prepared to go to the studio. InterGlobal Films wasn’t the crème of the crop, and he could’ve simply given it up much to his delight, especially now. However, what pushed his buttons was the fact that he was being disrespected in his very own territory by foreigners whom he’d just dealt with, and that they were claiming something he didn’t do.
Before he passed by the lawyer in the doorway, Tommy stopped and stared at him. “They said I didn’t pay them in full…”
“I-I’m sure it’s their men!” Ken stuttered and chuckled bitterly. “Why are they blaming you?”
The lawyer’s face was white as shit. He already had doubts, but he decided to let go of them in the meantime as an engine revved and roared outside. He left the office, sprinted down the stairs, and went out of the door to see Claude and Reena getting out of the car together.
Claude’s face was sulking, but the distraction? She looked terrified.
He marched down the concrete stairs holding a rifle and a wooden club. “Welcome back to the estate…” he greeted begrudgingly, tossing the club to his friend. Albeit pleased to see her again, the disposition Tommy was in wasn’t allowing him to smile at least.
“What’s this all about?” Reena asked.
“Colombians.” Tommy walked between Claude and Reena, inadvertently stopping the latter from reaching for his friend’s hand. He gave Claude a bulletproof vest. “As you said, they really did come back.”
Reena stared at him, dread coursing through her teary eyes. Even though she wasn’t saying anything, it seemed like she was asking what was going on.
Tommy tugged his gaze away from her, his heart breaking. He glared at Ken Rosenberg instead. “Bring her to the safest room in the mansion,” he said, tilting his head slightly to Reena. “No questions.”
“Alright, I will,” Ken Rosenberg affirmed. “Let’s go, Reena…”
“No… w-why? Where are you going?” She looked back and forth between him and Claude, begging for an answer.
I’m sorry, Reena.
Tommy left her and Claude, approaching Marcus and Leigh and giving them instructions to lure the VCPD away from the island. While he did, he couldn’t help but glance at the couple, observing Claude as he gave Reena his phone and the keys to their car. Claude was saying something. Reena’s face turned sour, and it seemed like no matter what his friend was whispering, she didn’t seem at ease.
“Come back to me, please,” she said, then she tiptoed and pulled Claude’s face for a kiss.
He knew it well he had no right, but the pinching pain in his chest was stronger. Tommy turned his head away.
Don’t look.
“We’ll return. I promise...”
Claude walked toward him and got in the Cheetah. Before Tommy jumped behind the wheel, he gazed at Reena. On her neck, the pink diamond necklace shimmered. It was majestic, so perfect on her, but Tommy didn’t have time and the right to bask in her glory.
Reena was staring at Claude, at his friend, but out of the blue, she lifted her eyes, meeting Tommy’s gaze. All that he could do was give her a firm nod, an assurance that they’d be back. Tommy stuck the key into the ignition and turned the engine on.
In the sideview mirror, he watched the distraction until she disappeared, and Tommy turned his focus back on the road as they hurtled toward their destination.
Vice City hadn’t gotten off the hangover of Christmas, yet, unknown to the people, an impending clash was going to happen on Prawn Island. Tommy was sure who was at fault, but he also blamed himself for letting this all happen. His friend’s presence in the trade might not be the sole purpose why they were back, but it definitely influenced its urgency.
“That Colombian called me. He said the payment for the Spank wasn’t complete,” Tommy explained as they reached the North Bridge, breaking the silence that consumed them.
“Ken gave them the briefcases. I saw it.”
“I know. That’s what I thought, too.”
As they neared the studio, Tommy could see the barricaded roads and gates, preventing his gang from fully infiltrating the area. Annoyed, he stopped in the middle of the road near the compound, and he and Claude got out of the car.
“Welcome to Prawn Island, friends! I wish Catalina were here. She’d love the reunion,” Miguel greeted with open arms.
Tommy didn’t answer. His friend neither.
“Estamos de vuelta, mi amigo…” Miguel said, looking at Claude.
They didn’t reciprocate his warm welcome, and the Colombian turned to Tommy, putting his hands together.
“Amigo, please don’t take this personally. This is just business.”
Out of nowhere, a round object rolled on the ground before them, and as soon as they realized what it was, Tommy and Claude jumped away. The bomb detonated, creating a gigantic blast. The cars blazed, and the thick, dark smoke of the burst rose in the air, engulfing the atmosphere with choking debris.
“Matalos!”
Peppering gunshots filled the air, sparks from the weapons flickering in the space. Tommy rolled on the floor and hid behind a post, his body almost tumbling on the ground. He cocked his rifle and lay flat on his stomach, shooting underneath a car, taking down three Colombians at once.
“Speed, come on!”
Tommy got back on his feet and charged forward. Pressing the rifle between his arm and torso, Tommy shot any Colombian who appeared. Claude stayed behind him, protecting his back from assault.
A couple of assailants grappled him in front. One of the Colombians whacked his face with a rifle. Ignoring the pain, Tommy threw his head back and forward, twice in a row, hitting his forehead on the Colombians’ faces, sending them plummeting to the floor. Pain climbed up his face, causing him to waver a bit. A crawling and burning sensation went through his nose, toward his sweltering head, then his temples. But Tommy didn’t have time to feel the agony. He pushed himself up to keep walking, and swiftly, he retrieved a rifle from the ground and continued blasting.
Rubbing his forearm on the effusive, warm blood that flowed down his lips, Tommy looked back at Claude, seeing his friend removing a belt around his neck while panting.
“Can you get up there?!” He pointed at the left side of the concrete walls where the roofs of two buildings converged. “I’m getting in. Take the bastards out!”
More Colombians waited inside. Tommy propped his back behind the walls at the entrance, motioning for his men to charge. As the mobsters did, raging bullets welcomed them, and not even one made it past the gates as all of them dropped to the floor.
“Fuck, I should’ve brought Marcus and Leigh…” he groaned as he snagged a rifle from the ground.
His glare sharpened, fury flowing in his veins, and the desire to eviscerate the bastards raked his chest.
“Motherfuckers, you think you can stop us?!”
He pulled up the two rifles in his arms and fired. Sweeping from left to right, Tommy didn’t let go of the triggers, scouring his front and shooting all the Colombians in his sight dead. When he ran out of bullets, he dashed, aiming to grab another weapon for change, when, out of the blue, a couple of gunshots blasted from behind the clouds of smoke.
A sudden piercing pain shot around his neck, slowly creeping up to his head and cascading down to his body. His knees faltered, and as he held his collar, he felt blood gushing down his arm. The metallic taste lingered in his mouth. Tommy’s vision began to blur, causing a surge of panic, his mind racing along with the pounding in his chest.
“Fuck,” he panted. “Speed!”
Dread... it had been so long since he felt it. Is my heart beating slower? he thought, wondering if his body was already giving up. It wasn’t the first time he got shot, or the first time he felt like dying, or alone, but it had been so long that the sense was so foreign and he didn’t recognize it. And why, after all these years, did he fear this time would come? Tommy was always ready. He had nothing to lose. If he died, no one would mourn for him, or look for him, or remember him… but somehow, somewhere in the rubble of his thoughts emerged someone he never knew he’d think about in a bleak time of his life.
I can’t die right now. Not now…
With his sight jaded, he looked forward and saw someone scurrying toward a helicopter. Miguel. He was clambering up the aircraft, but Tommy saw him fall, arm and leg bursting after getting shot. Losing his grip on the railings, Miguel shrieked as he crashed to the ground. From the top of the building, shots were fired toward the helicopter, forcing it to start flying away.
“Hey! Hey! No me dejes! Hey!”
Smoke drifted away, clearing the compound. A hand clapped his shoulder.
It was Claude.
His friend grabbed his wrist and pulled his hand away from the wound, lifting his chin a bit, checking it. His glare softened, and Tommy heard him puff a sigh of relief.
“Graze,” he muttered, sticking out his hand to Tommy.
“Fuck, those Colombians can’t shoot,” Tommy mocked, unwilling to show Claude that he thought his time had come. “They couldn’t even shoot me in the head.”
“You’re fucking bleeding.”
Claude yanked him up, but not before he grabbed a rifle from the ground, and together, they marched toward Miguel. The Colombian was lying on the floor, his arms and legs bleeding. Miguel whimpered, seemingly aware of how it was going to end for him, his eyes gawking, body shaking.
“Amigos, please don’t kill me. I was just given the order… I'm sorry about the crazy bitch, amigo. They're all the same... please? Por favor?”
Tommy clicked his tongue as he shook his head. “Amigo,” he said ominously, “if you did not shoot me, I might have let you live for five more minutes.”
The blast was muffled. Holding the rifle up, Tommy watched the blood and pieces of his flesh and brain roll down from the weapon’s snout, and the smoke that smelled metallic rose into the air. He looked at what was once a face, now unrecognizable, blood streaming out from the hole in his head. As if he wasn’t sure that Miguel was already dead, Tommy playfully kicked the Colombian’s body, checking whether he’d flinch or not.
Blaring sirens from the distance grew louder. Marcus and Leigh weren’t able to hold them for long.
“Do you know how to drive a skimmer?” Tommy asked. “I have one at the back.”
An old seaplane that Tommy used before to distribute flyers all over Vice City when he was just starting the adult film business was harbored in the rear of the studio, waving naively on the surface of the water. He recalled the very first time he attempted to fly the craft, and truth be told, he didn’t want to repeat it.
“Fuck, that’s old.”
“We have no choice or you’re going back to jail!” Or both of them.
They immediately hopped into the seaplane, settling themselves on the crumbling seats worn out by the weather and sea breeze.
“How do I make this work!?” Claude asked, looking at the empty dashboard and panel.
“You have to step on this to accelerate.” Tommy pointed at the pedal on the floor. “And then as we pick up the pace, pull the throttle. It’ll fly… eventually.”
“Wish me luck…”
Claude did as he instructed, and as the skimmer picked up speed, the authorities arrived. One of the officers shouted, “Stop! In the name of the law!” They fired at them, but the bullets landed aimlessly on the water as the skimmer dashed away.
“Hurry up, Speed!”
“Hang on!”
The seaplane elevated, gaining altitude as Claude tugged the throttle. Tommy’s stomach sank as they glided, the craft going against the blows of the wind. After almost a minute of struggling to stabilize, the skimmer settled down, going smoothly in the space. Tommy relaxed, and he saw that Claude breathed a sigh of respite too.
“Stop! In the name of the law!” Tommy imitated the police and snickered at his foolishness. Claude chortled too. “Now, all you gotta do is to keep us alive up here ‘til we reach the goddamn estate.”
Tommy stared at the skyline ahead, pressing a hand on his bleeding neck as the briny, sea breeze blew against them, his mind drifting to the distraction.
This was the reason why Tommy hated these feelings. These emotional “fuckers”. They made him weak. They made him scared and uncertain and unwilling to take the risk. If he didn’t know her, he wouldn’t care if an adult film director was sending him sex tapes. He wouldn’t care if his enemies shot him in the neck. He wouldn’t care about Claude getting distracted. He wouldn’t care about anything else if it wasn’t her.
Why of all women he met, only she could do this to him? Why couldn’t he get her off his head? Why did his heart flutter every time he thought of her, or saw her smile, her eyes?
And yet again, he was thinking about her now.
Tommy didn’t notice that they’d already reached Starfish Island. The skimmer bounced on the water’s uneven surface. He laughed at Claude while the latter tried his best to keep control of the craft. As soon as they landed and got down, Tommy ordered his men to get rid of it.
His head swirled as they climbed up the stairs with him losing a lot of blood from the wounds he obtained. Aside from his neck, his arms also bled, and his head too, making him realize how badly he was hit during the clash.
It was a victory that they’d taken out those who crossed him and vandalized his property with their filthy beings. It was a relief that they were finally back at the estate, dodging the police. It was a delight to anticipate seeing the distraction again.
Tommy couldn’t wait until they made it into his office. Claude would call Reena, tell her they were back, and she’d storm into the chamber to find him hurt. What would she do? Would she come to him and ask how he was just like how she cared for Claude when he was drunk? Would she show the same worried face when he spilled the champagne on the yacht? Would she tell him everything was going to be alright, relax, and get rested? He was imagining her reaction, daydreaming that she’d show concern and offer herself to take care of him.
Stupid. He knew it was impossible, but he loved to ponder about it anyway. He’d been thinking about her since he got shot in the neck, but he had to keep his cool. He couldn’t let Claude see the excitement he had.
A panic-stricken Ken met them midway. He wasn’t who Tommy wanted to see, so he dismissed the lawyer’s worries. When Ken rushed to his office to call for his doctor, one of his mobsters came scurrying, shocked to see them in the office. The man stammered, reluctant to tell what he was supposed to say until he blurted it out, much to their confusion and dismay.
Reena left.
“She was the only fucking woman here in the estate, and I told you to bring her to the most secured room in the mansion! Where the fuck did you let her stay?” Tommy bickered at Ken, the lawyer staring back at him with wincing eyes.
“I-In the guestroom on the third fl–”
“Was that the fucking most secured one?!”
“That’s enough…” Claude interjected. “Reena has my phone. She must have gone back to the hotel. She didn’t know any other place here.”
“Why would she go back there knowing well enough you’ll be back here?!” Tommy wondered aloud. All his anticipation faded, replaced with disappointment. Though he was still bleeding and untreated, he turned to Ken and waved a hand. “Get me new clothes. We’ll look for her–”
“No, Tommy, you gotta rest. I can handle it. I’ll look for her.”
He couldn’t object. Loathing his situation, at the same time, wanting to know where she’d gone, Tommy went to his desk and grabbed the keys to his car, tossing them toward Claude. “Take the car from the garage. Don’t scratch it. Call me when you need help…”
“I will…”
Claude left to search for Reena, leaving Tommy with no choice but to stay put. His current condition might have forced him to stay, but if things got worse than they turned out to be, he didn’t care if he’d bleed to death as long as Reena was found again safe and sound.
And if he had to go out and look for her on his own, he would. He fucking would.
Notes:
This is in reference to Chapter 43: The Clash and Chapter 44: Confrontation in The Reaper Man.
Thank you for reading <3
Chapter 10: Confidante
Notes:
Heads up! Minor changes in details. The previous Dinka Marquis/yacht cruise was changed to land travel.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
ALBEIT COVERED IN a bandage around his arm and a gauze plastered on his neck, Tommy rushed to put on a shirt and drove out of the estate, scurrying to get to Vice Point. When Ken saw him, the lawyer tried to convince him to stay, but Tommy insisted on going. Once asked where he was headed, he snapped out, yelling and threatening everyone to not follow him.
For whatever reason, he didn’t get any update about why Reena left the estate without Claude, and he was just surprised when he received her call.
Tommy floored hard on the gas clutch as soon as he caught a glimpse of Café Robina. He quickly pulled over at the roadside and got out of the vehicle. Tommy stormed into the café, looking ahead to the seats. Umberto came out of the kitchen, smiling at him.
“Amigo!” the Cuban exclaimed, wiping his hands with a dirty towel. Umberto looked at his arm and neck. “What the hell happened to you?!”
“Umberto,” he greeted though cumbersomely, propping his uninjured arm on the counter. “I’m looking for a girl, have you seen–”
Tommy stopped when he tugged his gaze to the corner. There, he saw her, back facing him. He hadn’t seen her face, but the agile arms that lay on the table and the waves of her hair made him certain it was her. Without looking back at Umberto, he went to her and put a hand on her shoulder.
Reena flinched, looking up at him with swollen, teary eyes. Her nose and cheeks were flushed, proof that she’d just stopped crying. Tears began to gleam in her lashes again, and when a drop rolled down her cheek, he found himself sitting across from her.
“What happened to you?” he asked.
She peered at him with uncertainty in her eyes. She stared at his neck and arm. “A-Are you alright? You’re hurt…” she said, her voice scratchy and weak.
“You seemed more hurt than I do.” Tommy looked over her shoulders, seeing Umberto ogling them with a snicker. He averted his eyes from the Cuban. “I gotta call Speed–”
“No! Please, Tommy, don’t!” she implored, her voice trembling. Her chin stiffened, then she began to cry, her hands scrunching into fists on the table. Her lips curled and trembled, a desperate attempt to stop another burst that she failed to quell. Tears streaming down her face. Her shoulders bouncing in a fickle. Muffled strain escaping her lips.
All Tommy could do was watch her.
He wanted to hold her in his arms and embrace her until her pain subsided.
His thumbnail pressed on his middle finger. He had to stop the urge. His fists trembled as they tightened.
Reena brushed the back of her hand on her cheeks, sniffing as she stopped crying. She pinched a tissue to her nose. “I’m sorry if I bothered you,” she said, her voice breaking. “Claude and I, we fought.”
“Okay, wanna tell me about it?”
Tommy didn’t expect he’d be a therapist tonight, but he was more willing to do so. He wanted to know why she left the estate despite knowing that Claude would come back there, but he patiently waited for her to speak, knowing that she was struggling to get the words out.
At least, it was he whom she called.
She swallowed, lowering her head, avoiding eye contact. “Somebody sent him a message. It says… she misses him and she’s thinking about him every night...”
Tommy leaned his back on the seat. “Who sent the message?”
“C-Catalina…”
“Reena, calm down. Maybe it’s just someone who’s pretending to be–”
“No…” She looked at him, her head no longer bowed. “I called the number. She answered me… she said, she said she wanna talk to Claude, and…” She whimpered, her chest heaving up and down so fast. “And she said they were planning to see each other, and…”
Reena burst aloud. The people at the other tables stared at them. Umberto looked more curious and approached. The snicker on the Cuban’s mouth grew bigger, staring at him insinuatingly, looking back and forth between him and Reena. “Everything alright, Tommy?” Umberto asked, grinning a tease beneath his thick mustache.
Tommy glared at Umberto, telling him without a word to get away and leave them alone. The Cuban chortled, lifting his two hands. With his left, he formed a hole with his index finger and thumb. Then, he inserted the middle finger of his right hand into the hole.
Luckily, Reena hadn’t lifted her head yet. Tommy felt his jaw drop in embarrassment.
“We’re fine,” he said, firm as ever. “Thanks. We can handle this ourselves.”
Umberto waved his hands jokingly forward, winking at Tommy and pointing his lips to Reena before he left.
Tommy realized they couldn’t stay here with Umberto lurking around. “Alright, come on.” He stood, touching the crook of her elbow and pulling her up from her seat. Reena obliged without protesting. Tommy glanced at the counter before exiting the café, finding Umberto guffawing soundlessly and moving his hips into thrusting motions. Tommy grumbled within, but he couldn’t deny that the Cuban was somehow right, at least...
He drove away from the café, heading to Starfish Island. Only her sobbing filled the silent void that engulfed them in the car.
“How’d you get here?” he asked, breaking the hush.
“I… I took a cab,” she mumbled in a raspy voice. “I told the driver to bring me across the borough. I just saw the café sign and thought it’s a nice place.”
“Isn’t Claude blowing up your phone now?”
Reena shook her head. “I turned off my phone after I called you.”
This woman needed to vent, to scream, to let her emotions flow without getting judged. Tommy pondered whether he should tell Claude that she was with him, but he realized that Reena might not have wanted to because if she did, she wouldn’t be with him now in the first place.
Tommy decided the estate was the fittest place of all.
When she recognized where they were, her face turned into a frown. “Why are we here? Is Claude here?”
“No, no, he’s not. Don’t worry. Let’s go to the Waterview, shall we?”
He got out of his car first and opened the door for Reena in the passenger seat. She was still wary of her surroundings, sweeping her gaze across the porch and the lawn. Tommy noticed her unease, so he paused in his spot, urging her to halt.
“Speed!” he screamed at the top of his lungs, making Reena jump. “Speed, come the fuck outta here!”
“Tommy!” she called out, whispering his name into the wind. “What are you doing?!”
“Claude Speed!” he shouted again, grinning as he did. “Reena’s here!”
She scooted toward him, grabbing his arm, tugging it gently. “Stop! They’re looking at you!”
The mobsters were peering from the balcony and the doorway, some were even looking from the driveway, wondering what was going on. Tommy didn’t give a damn about them. He looked at Reena and motioned his hand. “See? He’s not here. Cut some slack, will ya?”
Though she looked mortified, Reena did let go of her caution. She lowered her head once more, glancing at him sheepishly, so Tommy stuck out his hand, inviting her to hold him.
“Come on,” he said, “let’s go to the Waterview.”
Reena stared down at his hand, seemingly thinking of what to do. She pressed her lips together, lifted an arm, and accepted his offer, her soft hand closing around his. Her fingers felt so warm on his calloused hand, making Tommy feel something inconceivable.
Fuck, now he understood why Claude always wanted to hold her hand so much.
Swallowing the sudden lump in his throat, Tommy tugged her to the back of the estate. They passed by the hedge maze and the pools and rounded the mansion’s skirting. Once they reached the patio where he found her before, he pointed at the flat concrete. “Sit down,” he commanded. Reena obliged, her face still twisted, but she’d calmed down.
The glistening lights in the dark waters provided solace, the beauty thriving and revitalizing.
Tommy sat beside her, and unlike before when he kept a distance, he inched closer. It was cold, his wounds began to ache, but he wanted them to stay here. He let her breathe in and out first, to try to settle before he talked and before she continued expelling her frustration. It was effective, though. And his estate was more private. She could do whatever she wanted.
The night breeze blew. The gentle wind brushed on his skin while he watched Reena close her eyes.
“I yelled at him, and he yelled back at me.”
He looked at her, feeling the ire in his chest. Of course, Tommy had yelled at a lot of people many times, but not at a woman like her. Not ever. And how was Claude able to do that? How could he ever fucking yell at the distraction?!
“And why’s that?”
“I asked him what are we.” She breathed a heavy sigh. “I asked him if he loves me…”
Tommy’s teeth clenched. “What did he say?”
Reena opened her eyes. “Nothing. He didn’t answer me.” She turned to him, and though her face was devoid of emotions, her eyes were giving her away. “You’re right when you said a decade’s worth is incomparable to a–”
“God, Reena, no!” Tommy retorted immediately, and while he detested Claude for saying nothing, he was already blaming himself and regretting all the things he told her about in the suite. “My words shouldn’t–” He paused, shaking his head. “Don’t think about what I said. Speed’s not… a very expressive man. Sometimes he’ll just let you speak and yadda… yadda… you know what I mean. But that doesn’t mean he didn’t love you. And I know, he does. He really does.”
“He asked me what would I do if he told me that he was still talking to her and he still wanted to be with her…”
Fuck you, Speed. It’s getting difficult to defend you.
Tommy tried his best to de-escalate Reena’s uncertainty despite his repulsion against Claude’s response. “Maybe he just… said that in the heat of the moment. But not because he hated you, or he didn’t care about you. He’s told me of his plans, and I assure you that you’re a part of them.”
If he were selfish, Tommy would’ve taken the chance to meddle with her thoughts. He could’ve said that maybe, Claude was still planning to see Catalina. He might still love her. He could have been wishing to get back to her. But no. He knew Claude, and he knew what his friend felt for Reena. It was just that… he fucked up big time.
“Listen…” Tommy said, moving closer, “he brought you to Vice City because he wanted you to be safe. You haven’t told me anything about what happened to you in LC but I’m pretty sure, and every time I look at him I do see it, that he’d always lay his life for you. You gotta trust him. Catalina – that bitch was out of the equation. You should’ve already felt that.”
She nodded, a faint smile lacing her lips. “Thank you, Tommy. But I think we need to straighten things out.”
Frowning, Tommy’s eyebrows furrowed. “What do you mean?”
“Vice City’s like a dream to us,” she whispered, “and we need to wake up.”
His heart imploded. “You wanna go back to LC…” he said, almost in a question, yet he knew he was right.
“We can’t keep on running away.”
Tommy exhaled. Going back too soon. He was so used to being alone, but when they came, especially her, he felt he had company. He wanted her company.
Reena was staring at the skyline, the faint freckles that embellished her flushing cheeks were so mollifying to look at.
“Do you see it?” she asked, her eyes trained ahead.
“See what?”
“The beauty. It’s beautiful.”
The dark horizon radiated everlasting glory. The waves splashed gently on the docks, creating breathtaking melodies in the depths of the night.
But Tommy? He saw beauty beyond the Waterview.
“Yeah, I see. Probably the most wonderful I’ve ever seen in my life.”
Reena smiled widely, but when she turned to him and their gazes met, her hazel eyes fluttered.
She was like rare merchandise. Simple, fragile, yet one of a kind. Like those diamonds that must be dug from the chasmic pits of the earth. Like those stars billions of lightyears away. His eyes fell on her slightly gaping lips, and much like any man who’d find priceless treasure, Tommy wasn’t able to keep himself just sitting straight up.
His hands caught her face, pulling her toward him, crashing his lips onto hers.
He kissed a lot of women before in many different ways and on different parts of their bodies that he could ever imagine. He touched a lot of luscious bosoms and behinds, voluptuous waists and tender skins. Yet, as his mouth felt the warmth of her breath and his hands caressed her elusive cheeks, Tommy found something so distinctive. So deep. So enthralling.
Her breath flared against him, seemingly exhaling the air she held so long in her lungs. Tommy slid closer, pressing his lips into her cusps more deeply, surprised yet thankful that she wasn’t stopping him. His mouth moved and relished her taste, parting the seams of her lips with his tongue. He grabbed her waist with his other hand, not minding the strain of the injury, yanking her closer to his body.
Reena’s hands fell on his chest, and though it hurt, he fucking loved it, and he fucking wanted every minute of it that they spent so close. His fingers dug into the curves of her waist, and his hands slid toward the small of her back, down to her hips, but when he leaned forward, Reena held his cheek and pushed him away.
“Tommy, stop…”
Every fiber of him didn’t want to, but Tommy backed away almost immediately.
He touched his head, swept a hand over his face, and stared at her utterly shocked face.
“I’m sorry…” It was all Tommy was able to say. He wanted to apologize more, but the air he breathed choked him, stopping midway through every word he attempted to say.
Reena shook her head. “Let’s just…” She swallowed hard, and like Tommy, she seemed to have difficulty breathing right. “Let’s just forget about this.” She looked up at him, her eyes pleading.
He nodded. He wanted to refuse, but he couldn’t. “Yeah, yeah…” he said while he panted. “This never happened.” He smiled bitterly.
I’d fucking remember every second of it.
“I need to go back to the suite,” Reena said as she collected her bag and stood, walking away from the Waterview.
~~~~~~~~~~
Seagulls squawked in the early morning near the estate’s docks as the sun began to rise on the horizon. Sitting on the patio all alone since he got home after driving Reena back to the hotel, Tommy watched the distant watercraft sail on the waves. On certain occasions, when the breeze blew chilly winds, his wounds would ache, arms and neck would stiffen. Yet, to him, there was no other place he’d rather spend the rest of the time but the Waterview.
Where they kissed.
The sun had already made its way into the sky when Tommy decided to head back into his office. A couple of his mobsters guarded the driveway while another was inside the mansion, although the latter was seated on a chair near the door with his arms folded across his chest and head bobbing up and down. Usually, he’d snap his fingers at anyone who was caught sleeping during their shift, but now, he didn’t. He quietly ascended the stairs and opened the door to his office.
He sat on his chair and closed his eyes, his thoughts drifting to places and events not even he could recall, but he knew for a fact that he was thinking of only one person. He thought of her face, of her eyes, of her smile… but they vanished quickly, spiraling into distorted images when someone called his name.
“Tommy, wake up. Claude’s here!”
Ken Rosenberg pulled him out from peace into the harsh realities of consciousness. Normally, he’d gnash at the lawyer, but when Tommy realized that Claude was there, standing behind Ken, all his lethargy just vanished.
Scratching his eyes, Tommy pinched the skin between his eyebrows and waved his hand outward, motioning the lawyer to leave them alone. He whispered something to Claude until Tommy cleared his throat, forcing Ken to exit immediately.
“We need to talk,” Claude said, his voice hollow and stern.
His heart pounded, feeling the intensity in Claude’s voice. Tommy cleared his throat and straightened his back on the chair. “H-Have a seat,” he gestured his hand at the bloody couch where he had splayed the previous day after they got back from Prawn Island. “W-What’s the matter?”
Claude didn’t sit. He seemed agitated, disappointed… nervous. His head moved left to right, his jaw clenching. For a while, Tommy thought that his friend would punch him, and he actually felt that he deserved it.
He shouldn’t have kissed her, but he did, and he’d welcome every punch from Claude just to get the chance again.
However, instead of meeting a fist on his face, Claude looked at him imploringly.
“Reena wants to go back to LC,” Claude said, his face filled with worry. “Help me convince her to stay.”
Relief was the first thing Tommy felt after Claude made his intentions clear for coming to the estate. He imagined the worst, but then, he also realized that he couldn’t help him anymore. He’d already professed his help to Reena the night before, promising her his support although he didn’t agree with her as well.
“W-What happened? Why would she want that?” He pretended that he didn’t know.
“We… we fought yesterday. I found her in the suite. She was accusing me of… cheating on her.”
“How come?!” Tommy asked. “Did you do something to make her doubt you?!”
“No, I didn’t… you fucking know that.”
“Have you, at least, tried to de-escalate the situation?”
Claude shook his head slowly. “I-I must have said something that made things worse.”
“You do know how to handle a woman, don’t you?” Tommy said, knowing well enough what happened, struggling to stay calm.
“I didn’t come here to be criticized. I came here to ask for your help to convince her to stay. You know my plans."
“But what makes you think I can convince her?”
“I know you’ve talked to her multiple times behind my back. Partly this was your fault.”
Tommy was stunned. “Okay, alright, I’ll try…” He stood and went to the corner of the office, pretending to call Reena. He knew that Reena’s insistence to leave had something to do with him. He kissed her, and she guiltily received it even just for a few, defiantly fulfilling seconds. Tommy knew she wanted to get away, not just to settle things with Claude back in the place where they left everything behind.
It hurt, but Tommy had to accept the repercussions of his actions.
After a few minutes of feigning, he went back to the desk. “You drove all the way down from LC, right?” he asked Claude.
“Yeah, what about it?”
“I can get you through the toll gates.”
“What?!”
“Calm down, Speed, sheesh! She asked me if I could help you two to get back to LC, and I said yes!”
Tommy thought that Claude would finally throw the punch to his face.
“Thank you for trying to help me out,” his friend grumbled, pissed off with the result of his intervention. As soon as Claude was out of his sight, Tommy sat back on his chair.
“I saw Claude leaving the estate. He didn’t look happy,” Ken said as he entered the office.
“Oh, he never looked happy anyway.”
“What’s up with Reena?”
His face twisted as he looked up at Ken. “What do you mean?”
“I saw you two, last night.”
“What did you see?!” Tommy asked, frantic.
“That… you’re sitting at the back of the estate? It was dark, and the bushes were kinda covering you, so…”
“Good,” he said, lull cascading in his chest. Fucking thanks to the bushes that the mobsters hadn’t trimmed for a while.
“Why are you so nice to that woman?”
Because I–
Tommy opened the drawer of his desk and took a piece of gum, popping it into his mouth. “Don’t be silly, Ken. I’m nice to everyone…”
~~~~~~~~~~
The Rumbo growled gently on the driveway. Marcus and Leigh helped Claude and Reena mount their things in the van. As the last luggage was set, Reena approached Tommy with a pale smile on her face. She was still beyond doubt downcast, but her eyes showed that she was elated, at least, when facing him.
“Thank you, Tommy.”
Much to his surprise, she wrapped her arms around him and planted a kiss on his cheek. In return, he embraced her slightly and patted her back a few times with an awkward but content feeling in his chest. “Be safe,” he said as she let go, smiling at him before turning around.
Claude came to him and firmly shook his hand. “Thank you for accommodating us even just for a short time.” It seemed to be coming from his nose, but Tommy knew he meant it anyway.
“I hope to work with you again, Speed,” he said. His glance fell quickly on Reena, staring at her from afar. “Take care of your girl, will you?”
Claude scoffed. His hold on Tommy’s hand tightened, his daunting glares showing clearly what was going on in his mind. “Even if I die, she’s off-limits,” Claude said, then he let Tommy go.
Tommy remained in his position, watching his friend and Reena drive away. He knew there was nothing much he could do. She was tied to his friend, and Tommy understood that she was in love with Claude. It was impossible for him to inch his way through, but Tommy was far from giving the fuck up.
Just one misstep, just one. If ever Claude hurt Reena again, or left her behind, Tommy would be there, and he would always be waiting…
Stolen Kiss. Art by stephydrawsart_ (Tumblr, Twitter, and Instagram).
Notes:
This is in reference to Chapter 44: Confrontation and Chapter 45: Reality Check in The Reaper Man.
Thank you for reading! <3 I hope you're having a nice day!
Chapter 11: A Little Too Late
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
THERE WAS NOT a single update about Claude and Reena since they left Vice City, and Tommy was still struggling to condition himself into accepting that he had no business knowing what happened to them, especially to her. For days on end, he bored himself in Malibu Club and spent his cold nights in Pole Position Club with escorts to make him forget. Mercedes came to him a couple of times too, and Tommy no longer refused sex. But as usual, she was gone with the wind right after each visit.
He spent New Year’s Eve all alone, in the sitting room of his estate, drowning himself with the bitter, cold rum he bought for another year of solitude celebration.
Tommy thought of going to Liberty City. However, having not seen the metropolis for six years since he was released from prison, the idea of him returning felt foreign. Besides, the LCPD would probably still recognize him, and he didn’t want to stir some trouble for Claude, and even more so, Reena. He’d shunned the idea, thinking that his hands were already full of his problems…
…until three nights ago.
Out of habit, Tommy turned on the television in his office. While searching for a show to watch, a news channel caught his attention.
“The suspect of the Cochrane Dam Massacre on Liberty City’s 203rd Foundation Celebration was finally identified by the LCPD.
A total of 20 bodies were found in Cedar Grove and Cochrane Dam two weeks ago, including the casualties in a helicopter that crashed in the reservoir. Some bodies were also discovered in the Pike Creek area. The LCPD confirmed that they were members of the infamous Colombian Cartel.
Chief of Police Elmer Groove was also found dead in the Mansion in Cedar Grove. It was suspected that he had been involved with the Cartel and was killed due to a disagreement with them.
Deputy Officer Alvin Green will supersede the late chief…”
Fumbling for the remote control, Tommy turned the TV off after the list of the deceased and missing was flashed. He pinched the skin between his brows, his head suddenly aching. It was big news.
And more than that, Claude crossed his mind. Could he be involved? Tommy wondered. With most of the deceased profiled as members of the Cartel, he couldn’t shake the feeling that somehow, Claude might be a part of this.
His friend was steadfast that day. Claude told him that he was already letting go of his quest for revenge, even though Tommy didn’t agree with him.
But Claude never called him anymore. His number was already inactive. Suspicion grew in his head, but Tommy had no proof.
What was more rational and admittedly painful for him to think about was that Claude and Reena had probably gotten away and never to return. They could have eloped somewhere far out of everybody else’s reach.
With a broken heart, Tommy convinced himself that it was meant to happen after all.
But now, here he was, stepping feet once again into Francis International Airport, scanning the hilly terrains that surrounded the tarmac, his heart hammering in his chest.
Ken Rosenberg hailed a taxi. “Come on now, Tommy. Where will we go?”
“Torrington,” he said. “Ammu-Nation.”
Throughout the trip, Ken hadn’t stopped talking, ranting about why Tommy needed to get his hands on this again. Tommy just looked out of the window, his chin pressed on his knuckles, an elbow propped on the window.
“It says here that he isn’t eligible for an external lawyer anymore! We’re just wasting our time!”
Ken's voice just got muffled, everything else he said mushing into a senseless garble that Tommy didn’t mind comprehending anymore.
With or without Ken Rosenberg, Tommy was determined to help. An old friend, Phil Cassidy, was residing in Staunton Island, managing the weapons shop enterprise in Torrington. He confirmed that the man Tommy was searching for, 8-Ball Hudson, was there.
They had to do something no matter what it would take.
The trip was long and exhausting, even the cab driver sighed frequently. It felt like a huge spike was taken out of Tommy's chest when they crossed the Shoreside Lift Bridge. They’d be in Torrington in no time.
“I'm telling you, Tommy," Ken grumbled beside him, "you got so much to think about in Vice City than this.”
“You can jump out of the cab now,” he said. “I don’t mind.”
Ken stopped talking, pouting and sinking into the seat.
The Ammu-Nation in Torrington stood at the corner of a busy street, its massive sign glaring at every passerby. Snow began to fall as Tommy got out of the car, the skies dark and heavy. He walked into the door, pushing the fiberglass open. Ken followed suit, his mouth shut tight.
“Yo, brother, what can I do for you?” A black man with a bald head greeted them.
While Ken perused the displayed weapons on the wall, Tommy went to the counter. “Is Phil around?”
“Sorry, he’s just left for Shoreside Vale. He’ll be back tomorrow.”
“What a shame,” Tommy said, thinking of the right words to tell the man in front of him. “You see, I’m looking for a man named 8-Ball Hudson. Do you know him by any chance?”
The black man’s eyes gaped askance. His jaw tightened, corded veins sticking out of his neck. “Why? Who are you?”
“I’m Tommy. Tommy Vercetti.”
The black man rounded the counter and motioned for Tommy to follow to the corner of the store. Tommy glanced over his shoulder, seeing that the lawyer was still busy, so he marched to the spot where the black man stood, seemingly waiting for him.
Sticking out a hand, the man cleared his throat. “I’m 8-Ball Hudson. Phil told me you’re coming.”
Tommy grabbed 8-Ball’s hand and shook it firmly. “We’re going to the State Penitentiary.”
8-Ball looked left and right. “No one can get there now. The LCPD walled everything.”
“I can do something about that.” Footsteps shuffled behind them. It was Ken, staring at 8-Ball intently. “I’m a lawyer. Kenneth Rosenberg.”
8-Ball went back to the counter and pushed the customers out, saying that the shop was closed. One of the customers protested, refusing to leave the premises.
“It’s my right to buy guns!”
“Yeah, it’s my right to shoot you in the face. Now, get the hell out of here!”
After locking the doors and turning off the OPEN sign, 8-Ball went back to them. “The very day we learned about what happened, we tried to get there, but we can’t get through. We suspect someone’s behind all these, but we got no evidence.”
“Who could it be?” Tommy asked.
“The judge,” 8-Ball pondered, “he’s affiliated with Leones.”
“Maybe we can infiltrate–”
“No, no, no!” Ken interjected. “You know that ain’t a good idea!”
Tommy wanted to seize the lawyer’s neck, but his anger would be for nothing.
They discussed further, trying to exchange ideas on how to turn things around, but it did not help. Tommy was already on the edge of his restraint, and the more they tried to think of a way to solve their problem, it only led to one conclusion.
It couldn’t be solved in any fucking manner.
They’d be treading on eggshells in every action and attempt.
“Where’s she?” Tommy inquired, wondering how she was coping with all of these. She was not in a good place when they left, and Tommy wanted to know if she was safe.
“Who?” 8-Ball probed, giving him a suspicious glare.
“Reena. I wanna know where she is.”
8-Ball lowered his head. “She’s in Whetstone.”
“San Andreas?!” Tommy said aloud, almost shouting. As 8-Ball confirmed with a nod, Tommy wasn’t able to prevent his face from churning. He couldn’t believe that she was on the other side of the Mainland. “Why was she there? Why was she too far?”
“Claude bought a property there for them, supposedly. She’s in that house now.”
Tommy closed his eyes in exasperation. Sure, he was delighted to know that Reena was okay, but she was out of his reach now. Going to San Andreas was no joke, but if it meant seeing her, Tommy was fucking willing to cross thousands of miles.
“How can I talk to her?”
“Tommy, she didn’t know. I thought we just agreed to–”
“I won’t tell her anything,” Tommy sternly declared, and he meant it, but he could and would not let Reena just be all alone.
“Are you going to her?”
“Yes, of course, I’d –”
“Just leave her alone, Tommy. I wanted to be there for her, believe me, but she needed that time. And please, she couldn’t be stressed. She’s…” 8-Ball halted so suddenly as if he was thinking if it was his call to say.
“What? She’s what?”
“She’s pregnant… with their baby.”
It felt like a lightning strike. A distinct pain pierced through his chest, pinching the nerves in his heart. Of course, what did he expect? Tommy couldn’t understand why he was hurt, but somehow, learning about her condition made him feel more resolute to get to her… the more reason he needed to do what Claude had asked him to do before.
Our pact. If something happens to me, promise me. You’ll keep Reena safe…
“She needs company,” Tommy entreated. The thought of her living alone in such a faraway place was tormenting. He didn’t care if she wanted or needed to be alone. If all of them, including 8-Ball, were able to just dispose of her in Whetstone, he was not. He could not.
He thought he was already moving on. He couldn’t be more wrong.
“I won’t tell you where she is. I’m sorry. You gotta scour the whole fucking San Andreas, and you won’t get any information from me.”
“You wanna know what I can do?!” Tommy retorted, glaring at 8-Ball with a sheer threat. “I can fucking look for her even if you don’t help me, and I swear by the name of whoever fucking gods that you won’t know where she’ll be once I get her.”
To their side, Ken just watched, but Tommy could feel the lawyer’s eyes trained on him. “Guys, calm down,” Ken pleaded, briefly touching his shoulder.
Tommy didn’t flinch. He realized that if he wouldn’t set aside his pride, 8-Ball was more unlikely to work with him. 8-Ball clenched his fists, and from his gestures and expression, Tommy knew that the man didn’t trust him. As livid as he was, he couldn’t blame 8-Ball anyway. They knew nothing about each other, and Tommy didn’t have confidence in him either. He could find Reena, that was for sure, but he didn’t want to cause her more pain.
Surrendering, Tommy softened and shook his head. “Look, Hudson… 8-Ball, I just wanna talk to her. I just wanna know if she’s safe… if she’s doing well. That’s all. I ain’t doing or saying anything shit if that’s what you‘re afraid of.”
For what it was worth, Tommy meant every word he said. He just wanted to know how she was or if she needed comfort, someone to talk to, and someone to cry with. Reena was fragile when alone. He’d witnessed it before. He needed to be there for her, and he would be, even if it meant the whole world turning against him.
Reluctantly, 8-Ball stomped his way back to the counter and grabbed a paper and pen. After writing something, he slid the paper toward Tommy.
“That’s her number.” 8-Ball smacked his lips while looking at the paper, then nodded firmly. “We tell her when he says we do, yes?”
Tommy lowered his head and pressed his lips into a painstaking smile. “Yeah. I appreciate it, Hudson…”
~~~~~~~~~~
A burst of laughter could be heard blaring from the television, but Tommy just stared at it blankly. It was a comedy show, but he couldn’t be entertained. He was just looking through it, through the wall where it was leaning against, his mind was somewhere else… his mind was with her.
To his side was his phone, and in his hand, he held the paper where Reena’s number was written.
Ken Rosenberg was snoring on the other bed, even louder than the television itself. Breathing a heavy sigh, Tommy stood and went out to the balcony. The chilling winter wind of Liberty City brushed against his skin, making him shiver. It had been a long time since he experienced this cold, wondering how benumbed Reena must be feeling as well without any companion to lean on.
“I told her not to answer numbers she didn’t recognize,” 8-Ball told him. “I won’t tell her to answer your call.”
Hudson must not really trust him at all.
Tommy dialed the number. He held his breath as it rang, wishing badly for her to pick up. Seconds passed, then a minute, and the call automatically dropped after not having been answered. His teeth bared, eyes shutting in disappointment, but Tommy had no plans of giving up.
For another time, he pressed the call button, putting the phone close to his ear. Tommy tapped his foot on the ground at each snow that landed on the back of his hand. Tightly, he gripped the handrails, keeping his eyes on the darkness ahead where the city lights blinked into oblivion.
The call dropped. For a moment, he doubted if 8-Ball gave him the right number. Tomorrow, he’d go to him again, and if he needed to force it out of him, he would. He needed to talk to Reena no matter what.
As his thumb trembled in the cold, he called her once again, pressing the phone into his ear. Each ring that went on ticked by his heartbeat, and he knew that even if the call dropped multiple times, he’d still call her again. And again. And again. Until she answered.
He prepared himself to listen to the call ending once more, when, all of a sudden, the ringing stopped, and from the other end of the line, a static noise screeched.
“Who’s this?” she said, her voice husky and faint.
All the turmoil that was running through his head stopped as soon as she spoke. Her gentle voice which he loved hearing was speaking to him now, and he couldn’t help but feel delighted that she finally answered. Unable to stop himself from chuckling, Tommy exhaled in relief, sniffed as he brushed the back of his hand on his nose, and inhaled the wintry breeze.
“I’m glad you answered, but you shouldn’t do that when you don’t know who’s calling.”
Silence followed thereafter, but he could hear her gasp. A light feeling cascaded in his chest that made him smile to himself, knowing well that she recognized his voice.
“Tommy? Is that you?”
“Yes, it’s me.” A smile occupied his lips. “I’m really happy to talk to you again, Reena…”
Notes:
This is in reference to Chapter 57: Start Again in The Reaper Man.
One day, someone will hear me. Someone will pick up the call I'm making.
Thank you for reading <3
Chapter 12: Fallout
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
THREE MONTHS PASSED by so fast, and it seemed like it was just yesterday when Tommy went to Liberty City. The burden of carrying the secret and respecting the decision weighed him down, and the gut-wrenching feeling it brought was overwhelming sometimes, but he needed to man up. In the back of his mind, he buried the last request implored, and the only consolation he got was the fact that he’d found a way to talk to Reena, much to 8-Ball’s despise.
The Malibu Club was too busy and jampacked, but Tommy took the chance to lock himself in the office, shutting down any possible disturbance. He closed the door, muffling the noise coming from the main hall that still penetrated through the soundproof walls. Tommy settled himself behind the desk, on the leather swivel chair, and grabbed his phone from the drawer.
His most anticipated time of the week had come. He promised her that he would call her every weekend, and though he wanted to talk to her more frequently, every day in fact for god’s sake, he knew he needed to give her space, unless, she wanted to.
Smiling to himself, he listened as the ringing stopped.
“Hi, Tommy…” Reena greeted, her sweet voice sounding more relaxed compared to the last time they talked.
“Hey…” He smiled. “How are you doing?”
“I just had my check-up this morning,” she began, “and he’s kicking now. I can feel him moving.”
Tommy grinned at the phone. “So, it’s a he.” Cloud nine. He couldn’t understand why. It felt like he was anticipating his own child. Isn’t it nice?
He spent the next hours talking to her, suggesting possible names to give the boy, and as usual, Reena just giggled, commenting nice things on his suggestions. Although she never said so much during their calls, Tommy enjoyed hearing her amusement, ascertaining that somehow, he was able to do something for her though they were thousands of miles apart. Tommy would never get tired of listening to her gentle protests about his mischievous remarks and her resignation to his persistence.
For a moment, he thought of telling her about another property he was going to acquire. A small, two-story villa in the heart of Vice Point, with a pool and a wide, open garden. It was such a beautiful house that he wanted to give it to her as a gift… a gift deserved by a beautiful dweller. Yet, Tommy held his tongue. He didn’t want to spoil the surprise. First, he needed to secure she’d agree to his invitation.
“Would you like me to come and visit you?” Tommy asked. He always took the chance to throw the question every time they spoke.
“I’m fine. Please, don’t waste your time going here,” she answered as expected. It was the same statement she would say over and over. Why did she think going to her wasn’t worth it?
“Going there’s never a waste of time, Reena,” he retorted. Never had he ever thought of her that way. If any, it was something he badly wanted to do if not for his agreement with 8-Ball to leave her alone.
“I mean it, Tommy. Probably next time.”
Sighing heavily, he asked for an alternative. “What about you go here?”
Reena laughed heartily on the other line. “You know I can’t do that…”
“Okay. What about we make a deal?”
“What deal?”
Tommy sat upright on his seat, ready to sell yet another pitch. “I’ll stop asking you about when can I visit you, granted…” he emphasized, “that you will give me one chance to go there by surprise.”
Her response was an immediate chuckle, making his heart swell with joy. How on earth did she always make him feel this way? “I don’t think there’s something I can get from that,” she griped playfully.
“There is, there is…” Tommy said with enthusiasm, feeling it in his bones that she was nearly approving. “Just one visit, Reena. One visit. And I’ll buy you a house… or anything.”
She burst into laughter, and while Tommy was pleased all the while to hear her delighted, he waited for her and was hoping that she’d take the offer seriously. He meant everything he said.
“Alright,” she responded, much to his glee. “If this is what will stop you from forcing a visit, deal.”
In exhilaration, Tommy’s hand clenched into a fist and he tugged an elbow to his side, exclaiming a silent “Yes!” He leaned on the backrest of his swivel chair and pressed one side of his balled hand on his lips, sighing in utmost ecstasy. He’d begun imagining things, like purchasing his ticket, boarding the plane, flying on the coasts of the Mainland until he reached San Andreas, then he’d go to her in Angel Pine, scour the fucking mountains just to get to her–
“Tommy, is there any news about… Claude?”
His breath got seized. The fulfilling moment ended too soon. Of course, she always asked about him whenever they talked, always taking the chance. As his disposition made a full turn, Tommy lowered his eyes and cleared his throat. “I’m sorry, Reena. Until now, I… I don’t know where he is.”
He told himself he’d never lie to her, but since that day, he failed. He had to, or else, he’d be hurting her and himself.
Tommy tried to veer the conversation back to where it once was, but he could sense Reena wasn’t enjoying it as much. He talked more akin to a record on repeat until it was already late. He advised her that she should rest and that he would call her again next week, reminding her to respond to his messages every day.
“Hey, don’t forget to take the pills… or the capsules, whatever they are.”
She giggled, but it seemed forced. “I will. Don’t worry. Thank you, Tommy.”
They said their goodbyes, more solemnly on her part, and as soon as he put the phone down, Tommy was surrounded by gloom once again until he caught an eery figure at the corner.
Ken Rosenberg was standing at the doorway, fidgeting and nervous. Tommy jumped in surprise and threw the lawyer a confused glare. Though dark, Tommy was sure Ken’s eyes were red and droopy. In an instant, Tommy tossed the phone back into his drawer and ran his fingers through his hair, trying to conceal what he was doing. He didn’t tell Ken that he was already talking to Reena. He didn’t have to know. And of all times he’d appeared uninvited in his office, why now?!
“Can you knock before coming in?! What are you doing here?!”
Ken scratched his head, ashamed and reluctant. His face contorted a bit. “Tommy, I have an urgent matter to ask.”
Tommy’s brows furrowed, and a slight throb pulsated on the side of his head.
“Uh… can I borrow money from you?”
Without budging from his seat, Tommy shook his head. “You already did.”
Ken approached him and sat on the chair in front of his desk. “Tommy, I’m sorry. I know that was foul, but I badly needed it that time.”
Tommy kicked his feet up the desk, unbreaking his glower at Ken. “I don’t just bleed out money, you know. Millions have been lost in my account. Do you know where they are?” He tried sounding curious, but he knew his tone was accusing.
The lawyer shook his head vigorously, eager to convince Tommy that he was oblivious. “N-No, I-I don’t.”
“I can’t lend you more.”
Much to his surprise, Ken Rosenberg dropped to his knees and put his hands together, begging and crying.
“Tommy, I really needed the money! Some people are going after me. They’re gonna kill me!”
Couldn’t he get any lower? Where did his self-respect go?
Squinting, Tommy wanted to yell that he didn’t care, but the littlest tinge of gratitude left in him for the lawyer resurfaced. Clenching his hands into tight fists, Tommy pinched the skin above his nose and bared his teeth.
“From whom did you get indebted this time?” he asked, swearing to himself that it would be the last time he’d help the lawyer. Tommy opened his eyes and glared at Ken who was still kneeling on the floor with sweat rolling down his forehead.
“H-Haitians…”
CASH AMOUNTING TO five hundred grand was provided by Tommy to settle Ken’s debt to the group, which had loaned him packs of drugs, particularly Jujus. They were cheap on the first try, and Ken thought he could handle buying them, but he went overboard and didn’t notice he’d gotten too much. Somehow, he suspected the group to have cheated, but the sane in him knew that they didn’t.
He just needed the fucking drugs.
Before giving him the cash, Tommy lectured him about controlling his consumption, and if he didn’t stop or at least, moderate it, Tommy would be forced to send him to a rehabilitation center. Ken didn’t want that, but he was calling the bluff. He was certain that Tommy would never do that to him because Tommy needed him more than anyone else to keep his businesses under control.
After an hour of humiliation that Ken begrudgingly endured, Tommy gave him the bag of money, telling him to drop by his office on the estate right after.
Tommy had always been stingy in giving what was due to him. After all the money he was earning in his business deals, both legal and not, he’d give Ken a very little slice of the cake. Ken believed with all the help and service he was providing that he deserved more than what he was receiving.
Tonight, after paying the Haitians, he’d be standing his ground. He’d be asking for what was supposed to be his in the first place.
Ken drove to Little Haiti. On his way to the rendezvous, he’d transferred the two hundred grand into another bag and secured it in the backseat. He lit a cigar while he drove, tasting the fresh nicotine in his mouth and inhaling the burnt smoke that dispersed in the air. As he neared the meeting place, he opened the compartment beneath the steering wheel, seeing that he only had a couple of sachets left. He needed to buy some more, or perhaps, loan again. He would be paying them at half-price this time, and more or less, he could renew.
He arrived on barren land near a huge sewer beside a residential lot where crumbling bungalow houses stood so close to each other. He had seen the men he was about to meet from the windshield, so he slowed down until he pulled over the nearby road. Grabbing the bag of money that he left on the passenger seat, Ken got out of the car, walking confidently toward the dealers when suddenly, he was surprised that there was someone else.
“How’s me boy, Tommy?” She smiled widely. The two Haitians in their usual purple attire were standing on her both sides.
In a huge yellow dress, big round earrings, and a turban on her head, making her distinct from the others, Ken recognized who she was. He went closer and spat on the dirt before handing over the bag of cash to the Haitian boys. “Poulet, I thought you’d left Vice City,” he muttered in confusion. “Tommy wouldn’t be pleased to know you’re still here.”
“Attorney,” she said, “he wouldn’t be pleased either to know you loanin’ again, eh?”
Puckering his lips, he nodded. “Yeah, fair enough.”
“Me heard me Tommy buyin’ a villa in Vice Point?”
Ken’s brows churned. Tommy’s buying a villa? He wondered, but he didn’t want Poulet to see he wasn’t aware of it. “Y-Yeah, why?”
“What for?” She tilted her head, seemingly scrutinizing him without moving from her position, the flaps of either her belly or dress dangled like accessories on her body.
“I… I don’t know…”
“Hm, keepin’ secrets from you? I thought me boy Tommy trust you.”
Ken’s face scrunched. He could not understand why the woman was asking so much about Tommy. Yet, he couldn’t deny that the questions made him question too. Why don’t I know? Every time Tommy purchased something, he would be the first one to get consulted. Tommy trusted him in those matters, but why didn’t Tommy tell him about the villa?
The woman smiled, her lips twisting to the side in amusement. “You be wonderin’ too, eh?”
“Just… just don’t let Tommy know you’re here. And my stuff, ‘kay?” He turned around and left the Haitians before the monarch could say more.
Just as how he was instructed, Ken drove back to the estate. He planned to use the information he learned about the Haitian leader being back in Vice City again to distract Tommy. Ken knew that Tommy would inquire, and ask for receipts perhaps, but if he discovered that one of his nemeses was back to pester him again, Tommy would eventually forget about his suspicions and focus on pushing away his enemies.
Ken knew him like the back of his hand.
Fully convinced that his plan would work, Ken stepped into the office.
Tommy was talking to someone on the phone when he arrived. “Yeah, I’ll be sending him there soon.” When Tommy lifted his eyes and saw that he was already in the office, Tommy quickly said goodbye and hung up.
“Hey, who’s that?” Ken asked, feeling that he was the subject of the conversation.
“You’re back,” Tommy commented as he picked up a pen and started writing.
“I-I’ve already paid them.”
Tommy nodded and pursed his lips. “Good. Now, where will you use the two hundred grand?”
Blood escaped his head. Was I followed? How did he know about–
“I have a favor to ask.”
Undecided whether to feel relieved or scared for his life, Ken waited for Tommy to say what he wanted him to do. Tommy signed some of the papers first before standing up from his seat. He took a card from his chest pocket and handed it over to him.
“I want you to go and stay there. I’ve already set the appointment for you,” Tommy said as he let go of the card and turned around.
FORT CARSON MEDICAL CENTER: REHABILITATION CENTER
Fort Carson, Bone County, San Andreas
2120021-8561 loc. 56
“Here in Fort Carson Rehabilitation Center, we give you another chance.”
Ken felt his head expand. “What for?! I-I promise to control it!”
Tommy scoffed. He looked at Ken with clear mockery on his face. “You’re an addict, Ken. I can’t let you go around spending and stealing my fucking money buying some shit from those Haitians.”
“Are you serious?! You’re sending me there?! San Andreas? I… I’m not stealing your money!”
“Don’t get me started with your bullshit! I know you took the money for the Cartel!”
Ken gulped. He thought his heart was going to explode. “L-Look, Tommy, I… I will pay you…”
“You’ve made your bed,” he said, continuing to work on the papers.
Silence surrounded the office, and the dense air lingered in every corner of the dreaded chamber. Ken didn’t know what to do – whether to keep standing, leave, or sit down. Eventually, he walked toward the couch and let himself sink into the cushion, feeling the weakening of his knees.
While looking at the coffee table, or wherever, he remembered the question Poulet asked him.
“Why are you buying a villa in Vice Point?”
Tommy stopped and peered narrowly back at him. “What do you mean?!”
“Was it for business,” Ken construed, “or are you trying to impress someone else?”
No matter how subtle he hid it, Ken would always see the truth in the way Tommy’s eyes glimmered whenever the subject was her.
“I’ll buy and give her whatever I want,” Tommy answered with a firm voice, dodging eye contact.
“You’re really gonna take her?!” Ken snapped. “Are you really out of your mind?”
Tommy stood from his seat and slammed his fist on the table. “Why do you care?!”
“You’re getting out of the way, Tommy,” Ken shouted, feeling the surge of emotions in his chest. “That’s selfish. You’re being selfish!”
It was the first time that he had ever retaliated against Tommy. He didn’t know where he got the strength, whether it was from the heat of the moment or his growing resentment every time he was demeaned. Tommy was great on his own, no doubt about that, but the man seemed to forget how he, a meek lawyer, helped him – a raging and hopeless ex-convict – to get back on his feet.
“If you think you’d stop me from what I’m gonna do, make sure you’re clean first. Perhaps, I’ll consider that those statements are coming from someone lucid enough to speak against selfishness!”
Ken jolted up, his anger tantamount to that of Tommy’s. He couldn’t believe how ungrateful the bastard was to him. “I may be a drug addict, but I’m not a hanker for a woman!”
That night on the estate, Ken saw Tommy kiss Reena. He didn’t admit it when Tommy asked what he saw, but it was clear as day despite the darkness and bushes that shrouded them. He saw how his hands grabbed her waist and pulled her closer, and she – that woman – let him do it. The mere fact Ken knew she was with Claude at that time but her lips were on someone else gave him a different impression of her. A whore, just like in the film. That was what she was.
Tommy wasn’t nice to everyone. He was just too fucking nice to Serena because he couldn’t keep his dick in his pants and he was ready to jump into her knickers.
“She cheated on Claude with you, Tommy,” Ken declared, unable to stop his emotions. “I saw the two of you. I thought Claude knew, I wanted to tell him, but I didn’t because I respected you and you’re my friend! And now, you’re gonna fucking dispose of me?!”
“What did you see, Ken?” The way Tommy asked the question seemed to come from the depths of his guts.
“That you kissed her, and she let you! Gods, Tommy, don’t you see?! You’re pining for someone ready to fool around! What’s more, surprise, Tommy! She’s a whore! Did you forget you’ve watched her video? Or is it the reason why you’re so eager to fuck her?!”
Tommy’s fists and teeth were no longer clenching. The veins that usually stood on his neck and forehead were also gone, seemingly non-existent. He was calm, but his calm was menacing, and Ken knew that he had solidified his fate.
I shouldn’t have said that. Fuck.
Without explaining further, Tommy walked past him toward the door. He didn’t lift his eyes to Ken anymore. “Tomorrow, you’ll be going to Fort Carson,” Tommy said, and Ken Rosenberg was left all alone in the office…
Notes:
This is in reference to the events that occurred after 1986 in GTA Vice City where Tommy Vercetti sent Ken Rosenberg to Fort Carson for rehabilitation, which ultimately broke their relationship.
HAPPY NEW YEAR!!! Let's look toward 2023 with a heart filled with love and hope! Wherever you are, I'm wishing the best for you!
How's your celebration? Hm? Hm? My tummy still feels full until now!
Thank you for reading! <3
Chapter 13: Provocations
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
THE DAY KEN was freed from the rehabilitation center was supposed to be the happiest day of his life. The fresh air that blew around the dry and empty lands of Bone County, the noise of the cars that passed by, the drivers that occasionally cursed at him for crossing the highway, and the chance to get back on his feet again after getting disbarred from practicing law were rather promising than being locked up for good. He was carrying two duffle bags when he stepped out of Fort Carson, just like how he did now when he stepped out of the gates of Francis International Airport, the tarmac’s luscious green terrains a total opposite to the aridity in his chest.
Five days ago, with barely any money left, Ken flew back to Vice City in hopes of reconciling with Tommy. He expected a warm welcome upon his arrival on Starfish Island, but all he was met with was blatant rejection by the mobsters that watched the estate’s gates. He demanded to see Tommy and called him multiple times either through the burner phone he had or the telephone booth by the mall, but no matter how many times he attempted, he could never get through to him. In Malibu, in Pole Position, in Cherry Popper, in Kauffman Cabs, and even in Print Works. Ken got nothing.
“I’m calling Tommy Vercetti. Yes, this is Ken Rosenberg. K-E-N-R-O-S-E-N-B-E-R-G. You haven’t heard of me? Who are you?”
On the next day, he tried again, lingering in the 24-hour lounge of a shop because he had nowhere else to go. He didn’t have enough money to spend a night even in a low-cost inn. All he had in his mind was his desire to make it up to Tommy, regretting all the words he said against Serena and his actions before he was sent to the rehabilitation center.
“Oh, you told him I called? Then why doesn’t he still talk to me? Listen, I made that ingrate! And now he won’t take my calls?! Just put him on the phone right now! Hello? Hello?!”
Yet, it didn’t matter how many times he tried to reach out because he was met with the same answer over and over again.
Ken did not give up in the following days. He kept on calling until the person who’d been answering his calls picked up no more. His calls would go through the voice mail. He loitered around in Washington Mall, spending a dollar for a meal a day and sleeping on the benches. When a security guard caught him, he was sent out of the establishment, giving him no other place to stay but the gutters of the busy streets.
“Tommy, I’ve nowhere to go. I ran out of money. I’m begging you. I’ve been disbarred… I got no food, no proper clothes… the guards kicked me out of the mall. Please, Tommy. I need your help.”
With the last bar of battery in his phone, he sent the message to Tommy, hoping he’d answer.
After aimlessly strolling around Vice Point, Ken found himself in front of his old office. He sat down in the alleyway beside it, and he didn’t notice that he had fallen asleep. When he woke up, he discovered an envelope beside him. Curiously, he picked it up and tore it open. Five fucking grand. Ken couldn’t contain his happiness, and for a moment, he was willing to throw himself to the feet of the gods and worship them on his knees until he found a short note.
“Don’t call anymore. That’s the last amount I could give you.”
His delight was trampled in an instant.
Ken had nothing… no food to eat, a decent place to stay… and all he was hoping to keep was a friend. With every step he took on the sidewalks, he felt a foreign sensation in his chest. Growing, insurmountable hatred as realization hit him hard. Tommy Vercetti, the man he helped with all he could, had abandoned him. Not just now, but long ago, ever since he’d been sent to San Andreas… ever since he spoke against Reena.
Discarded. Ditched. Disrespected.
Tommy sent him away to get rid of him.
So, he made a decision. After a week of homelessness in Vice City, he rented a room for the night, washed himself up, put on new clothes, ate something else other than a piece of bread, and bought a ticket to Liberty City. He contacted an old mentor – Martin Francois – and learned the old lawyer had a special client that he was willing to give him.
He hailed a cab, telling the driver to take him to Portland. If Tommy didn’t want him back, he’d go to someone who needed his fucking help.
The Leone Don was nothing but a poor successor to his late father. Too young to take over, too naïve to decide for the Mafia, and too unskilled to even stand up for himself. Martin Francois said that, if not for the crime family’s caporegime, the Leone family would have already fallen to pieces and trampled by the other groups emerging, particularly, the Yakuzas. Portland remained their stronghold, but it wouldn’t last for long if the boy wouldn’t man up.
Help. That was what the Don needed.
Ken got out of the car in front of an old garage in Trenton. A buzz surrounded the district brought by warehouses and factories, manufacturing plants, and freighters that passed by heading to the harbor nearby. Martin Francois told him this was where the Don was staying. The ridges of the roof looked like they had once been painted with a vibrant, blue color, the walls tinged with orange and green, but it seemed time had tested them enough to wear them down into a fading façade of no glory.
Three vehicles, and what looked like a car before, lingered in the front of the garage, toppling over the other. He wondered how many of them belonged to the Leone himself. They didn’t look like a Sentinel at all. Rusting bodies, decaying engine parts, and their overall emptiness seemed to reverberate with Ken as he passed them by, heading for the door that was slightly ajar.
A thin man in a filthy, blue mechanic suit was crouching by the rear of an old Bobcat, grunting as he tugged the wheel of rubber from its hinges.
As the only legitimate son of Salvatore Leone, Ken somehow felt sorry for him. Losing his father whom he relied on so much was a big blow to his life, let alone getting an inheritance that was nothing compared to what his half-sister got. The Don once begged Martin Francois for help to obtain the assets, but the old lawyer knew it was impossible, unless, the heiress waived her rights to the inheritance voluntarily or faced death. Either of the two would do.
How could he do that if he didn’t know where his half-sister was?
Lucky enough, Ken thought, I’m here.
“Mr. Joey Leone?”
The man looked over his shoulder and found him. His face turned into a frown before he stood, the obvious question of who the fuck are you flashed on his face.
“I’m Kenneth Rosenberg. Ken, for short. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Joey Leone.”
Wiping his hands, the Don approached, giving Ken a better look at his face. Damn, he didn’t want to look this old. “What do you need?”
“Mr. Leone, I’m here to offer you my services. I learned that you’re in dire need of money having spent almost all that you have.”
“Who the fuck are you?!”
There it is. “I have information that you might be interested in.” Moving closer, Ken gave him an envelope. The Don opened it, revealing a couple of photos that made his eyes gaping.
“Why are you showing me these?!”
It wasn’t anger nor pain that he could see in Joey Leone’s eyes. Something else. Something worse, but he could feel it because that was what he felt too after his only friend whom he’d almost given his life neglected him like he was nothing but used merchandise.
“Waiting does not make a good revenge,” Ken said. “You have to start where it hurts. Also, you need her, right? To get the rest of the inheritance?”
“What do you mean?”
Desperation was fuel for people to keep moving in blind determination, a catalyst to keep the unhinged to generate a force that would keep its rusting screws rotating for function. It would ignite any dying light into a spark, then, into a bright flicker that would start a wildfire, ready to devour every malleable object on its way, including people.
“You may want to pay your sister a visit…” Ken said with a certain smile on his face.
TOMMY SAT AT the foot of the bed with his pants, smoking. He could taste the nicotine on his tongue, overwhelming his senses, when all of a sudden, the weight on the mattress shifted, and he realized that Mercedes had already woken up. Only a thin white blanket covered most of her intimate parts. Her jet-black hair flowed like stream waters, shining with the faint reflections of light on her bare shoulders.
When she seemed to notice that he was no longer lying beside her, she pushed herself up, letting the sheet that covered her body slide down. She crawled to his back and held his shoulders, kneading and massaging him, her hands sliding down toward his chest. “What are you thinking?” she whispered close to his ear, breathing warm air that made him feel tingling sensations before. Her breasts brushed on his spine, soft and plump.
However, he didn’t move a muscle, not even a blink. In fact, he felt naught.
I can’t take it anymore.
Mercedes stood, and in the corner of his eye, he saw her picking up her clothes. He’d often help her put them back on before, but this time, he couldn’t budge from his position.
“I might be gone for some time. Hope you don’t miss me that much.” Mercedes leaned and kissed him on the cheek before she walked away. When he heard the door close, Tommy lay down on the bed with the cigarette in his mouth, sprawling his arms on the cushion.
He couldn’t understand himself anymore. Sex was supposed to be amazing, but it didn’t feel right. It felt rather a chore every time Mercedes came to visit him on the estate, pushing himself to go deeper, harder, faster… but none of it changed the way he felt.
Was it because he’d stopped calling? Changed his number? Felt guilty of staying away?
His thoughts would always drift to her. Alone to tend to herself and her baby. Far away from her friends. He’d given himself time to think through his decision by keeping a distance. Maybe, he was just pitying her. Or, he might be feeling responsible for helping her out. Perhaps, it was the pact he made with Claude. He tried to rationalize, to be mindful of his decision… not to give in to his impulsivity.
Yet, instead of being able to contemplate objectively, he had become more restless.
A part of him was telling him he should just let it go, but something else was whispering, clearer and louder and more powerful, not to. He didn’t want her to think that he’d abandoned her too. Tommy wouldn’t do that to her. Never. His reasons were beyond even his own understanding.
Ultimately resigning to the voice speaking within him, Tommy grabbed his phone on the side and called Marcus and Leigh’s cousin, an officer in the Los Santos Police Department who’d been working in San Andreas for some time. An ex-tracker and surveillance specialist from the force. After confirming all the details, he ended the call and closed his eyes, pinching the space at the top of his nose, breathing a heavy sigh.
“You’re getting out of the way, Tommy. That’s selfish. You are being selfish, Tommy.”
If this was what it was, then he was indeed selfish.
In a swift motion, Tommy put on his clothes and rushed out of the estate, passing by Marcus, Leigh, and his other mobsters in the foyer. He hopped into his Cheetah and dashed to Little Havana, just in the nick of time to find Earnest Kelly dragging down the rolling metal door of Print Works. Tommy didn’t even enter the parking area anymore. He slammed a hand on the horn, catching the old man’s attention. Upon seeing his Cheetah, without a word, Earnest Kelley went to him and entered the passenger seat.
“Ain’t it too late for a ride?” the old man asked.
“Can you join me for a drink and a talk, Pops?”
Earnest Kelley glanced at him and chuckled. “When did I refuse?”
From Little Havana, Tommy hurtled toward Downtown, finding a bar across from Pole Position Club. The old man seemed to look confused, but he followed Tommy anyway, not asking any questions at all.
He ordered a bucket and something to eat, but Tommy hadn’t touched the latter.
The hubbub in the bar rang in Tommy’s ears, but he was certain he could hear Earnest Kelly’s dense sigh. The old man was just looking at him intently, watching each time Tommy took a bottle from the table and chugged it down. When Tommy lifted a hand to call for a server, Earnest reached out and pulled his hand down, pressing it lightly on the table’s surface.
“I thought you wanna drink and talk, sonny, or did you just invite me here to watch you get wasted?”
Tommy felt himself fluster. He drew back, feeling the old man’s rough palm brush over the back of his hand. Clearing his throat, he lifted his eyes and peered at him. “Sorry, Pops.”
A group of young people stormed into the bar all the while chortling and shouting like there was no tomorrow. They caught Tommy’s attention. A black girl who wore skin-tight latex pants and a tube that almost revealed her breasts smiled at him deviously.
Some time ago, he’d find himself on a bed fucking with anyone to whom he was attracted, or in the backseat of his car ramming into a horny chick’s bum, but since the distraction came into his life, all of the things that satisfied him carnally were pretty much non-existent.
He wanted to be the same adventurous him.
“I’ll be back, Pops,” he said as he stood and went in the restroom’s direction.
Tommy knew that the girl was following him. When he entered, she went in too, and in no time, the girl pushed him into one of the empty stalls. Locks clicked and soon, they were devouring each other’s mouths, his hands moving to places he thought he yearned to touch. The girl’s hands fell to his crotch, rubbing against the spot where his cock was, and she pushed him to the wall, dropping to her knees.
There’s more to you than what you show…
His eyes gaped open when he heard Reena’s voice in his head. The girl kneeling before him was about to put his cock in her mouth, but Tommy quickly shoved her and put his pants back on.
“Asshole, what’s fucking wrong with you?! You playin’ rough?!”
Without looking back or answering, Tommy busted out of the cubicle. Cold sweat riddled his head as he made his way back to the bar. The hall he passed through seemed to tighten with every step he made. When he saw Earnest Kelly, he quickly drew money from his pocket and slammed it on the table.
“Let’s go, Pops.”
The old man followed without asking a question. As they got into the car, Tommy quickly buckled himself on the seat and dashed away from the parking lot, tearing through the dark avenues in the middle of the night.
“You know, sonny, at this point, I’m already snoring.”
“That’s why I’m taking you home–”
“Did you just try to shag in that fucking bar’s restroom?”
Tommy veered to Ocean Drive, ignoring Earnest Kelly’s question. His eyes trained ahead even though he knew that the old man was glaring at him. He wasn’t just sure what his Pops’ face was churning for – confusion or disgust. No word was said, though.
The lights of the apartments in Vice Point flickered in the distance, and somehow, as they reached the neighborhood, his heartbeat slowed down. Tommy felt more relaxed as he turned to the street where Earnest Kelly's apartment was, realizing that they were already far away from the bar. He couldn’t even believe that he did what he’d done. Playing with his emotions at a very stark moment, apparently, was not a sound decision.
He slowed down in front of the apartment building. The old man unlatched the seatbelt and prepared to go down, but Tommy sensed he paused. When he turned his head slightly toward Earnest Kelly, the old man leaned his back on the seat and stared ahead at the windscreen.
“Mr. Vercetti… Tommy, if you really love her, what’s stopping you?”
Tommy’s hands tightened around the steering wheel. There was something in his throat, choking his neck, disabling his breathing. He didn’t know what to say.
“Are you afraid to be judged,” the old man probed, “or are you afraid she won’t love you back?”
Sometimes, Tommy wondered if Earnest Kelly was some sort of a mind reader or something.
“Eh, who cares? How would you know if you wouldn’t try?”
The old man’s words were like a flood that swept all the ruckus ravaging Tommy’s head. He was right. His Pops was right. Now that Tommy had the chance, would he let it slip away just because he was afraid of not getting reciprocated?
“I’ve never seen you so dedicated to a woman before, sonny.” The old man’s hand clapped his shoulder, nudging him a little. “The Tommy Vercetti I know isn’t just someone who must be feared. Tommy Vercetti is someone who deserves to be loved.”
He felt it. If his father were around, would he have told him the same?
“Well, I must go now, Sonny.”
Earnest Kelly pushed the door of the car open, and deliberately, he stepped out and sighed a heavy breath. Tommy watched him stretch his limbs while inhaling the night air. Before closing the door, however, Earnest Kelly stooped down a little, face twisting with palpable stiffness due to the bending of his back, but he did it anyway.
“Can’t wait to see that fucking damn smile on your face once she’s come with you.”
All that was left to Tommy was the clicking sound of the car door as it closed. Through the window, he watched the old man slowly walk toward the front porch of his humble abode, and as soon as he vanished in his sight, a faint smile painted on Tommy’s lips while his head bobbed up and down.
“I will, Pops,” he said so certainly. “I will.”
Notes:
Thank you so much for reading!
Also, Merry Christmas to our Orthodox Christian friends! <3
Chapter 14: Misery
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
THE FAINT SOUND of the television’s static noise surrounded the house. Waking up from the dream she never wanted to leave, Reena found herself alone once again. She had fallen asleep on the couch, she couldn’t remember when or how. Every detail of her dream, however, was vividly inscribed in her mind. It felt real… but it was not.
I knew it… I knew you’d be back…
Failing to stop herself from immersing in her hopes even in her sleep, Reena felt the tears stream down her face. The darkness was deep and calm, but her emotions poured relentlessly. Clutching the sleeves of Claude’s leather jacket that she wore on her shoulders, her memorabilia of him, Reena curled on her seat in desperation.
While she wept, she felt the baby kick in her womb. Reena halted, her hands sliding down toward her baby bump. The pain she felt rather vanished, and she was filled with the relief of feeling her baby move. It wasn’t the first time he made his presence felt, but he just did at the right time. Reena stroked her womb gently, feeling every part of their child within her, almost ready to say hello to the world.
The clock on the wall ticked at six minutes past four in the morning. It happened more often – she would fall asleep while daydreaming, hoping and wishing for him to come home, but she would wake up all alone, desperate to go back to her dreams again. Reena forced herself to stand, pressing the heels of her palms onto the armrest. With Claude’s jacket still draped on her shoulders, she climbed up the stairs, wanting to give herself a rest.
She lay on the bed once more, shutting her eyes and forcing herself to dream again.
But when the rays of the sun broke into her bedroom window, she realized that she could no longer continue the reverie. She’d been staring at the wall for hours on end until the crowing noise of a rooster from Mr. Jenkin’s yard echoed in the void. Despite being awake the whole time, it took Reena more time before she finally stood and made her way downstairs.
Same lonely living room. Same lonely kitchen. Same lonely and empty home without Claude.
Mustering her will from the depths of her guts, Reena went to the door to open it. The bright dazzle of the rising sun shone on her face, making her put a hand above her eyes. The fresh morning air seeped through her lungs. The fragrance of pine and cedar from the nearby forest that filled the surroundings was rejuvenating, though, it didn’t make her feel less lonely.
At the doorstep, there was a package. The box was lying on the front porch of her house without any marks or messages. It was just there waiting to be found. Was it here yesterday? Reena wondered, but if it were, she was sure she didn’t notice it. She took the box inside, but instead of ripping it open, she disinterestedly placed it on the counter as she prepared herself to go to work.
The truth was, she didn’t have to work at all. When 8-Ball left her in Angel Pine, he gave her a purse filled with money, enough to sustain her daily needs. It was from Claude. 8-Ball said Claude had it saved lest the two of them started their lives together. She barely touched the money. She didn’t want to use what she thought wasn’t hers. At the same time, it was difficult for her to spend it without him. It was supposed to be for them, not only for her.
Despite crying all night, Reena dragged herself to the furniture shop. She didn’t feel like going, but she didn’t want to spend her day all on her own in the house either. It would only make her think about him more.
Time fleeted upon her as she walked around and aimlessly dusted the furniture on display, even volunteering to organize the desk at the entrance. The cloth she was using to wipe around did not even turn dark. There was no more left to clean. Even though Mrs. Herrera would tell her to just sit down, Reena couldn’t idly watch people come and go. Doing nothing only paved the way for her to remember what she ought to forget.
“Reena, mi hija, it’s lunchtime.”
She nodded faintly at her boss whose eyes trained on her with worry.
“Are you alright? You’re looking pale, hija.”
The chimes at the door jingled, and two police officers entered the shop. Mrs. Herrera seemed reluctant to leave her, but the woman eventually spun and approached the guests.
Reena went to the desk and checked the pile of papers on the clipboard, searching for the inventory. Crazy idea, she knew it was, but she was too determined to cross-check the supplies so she’d get her mind preoccupied. There was no room for her unwanted musings.
She grabbed the clipboard and headed to one of the stalls, holding a pen and checking if the count of the furniture pieces and figurines was accurate. At first, she was pleased to feel focused, but soon, her mind wandered somewhere else again. The touch of his hands on her baby bump. She shook her head, ticked the boxes, erased the numbers, then rewrote the same ones she deleted on the inventory. The feel of his face in her hands. She touched her head, feeling her temples throb. The warmth and sweetness of his lips. She bit her cusps as her eyes stung. Realizing what she was doing was nonsense, Reena left the stalls. She went back to the counter, but instead of putting the pen and the clipboard on the desk, she tossed them into the trash bin.
“Dear…” Mrs. Herrera’s touch on her shoulder made her flinch. “Are you alright? I think you should go home.”
Reena lifted her eyes. Aside from Mrs. Herrera’s concerned gaze, she saw the two officers staring at her as well. “I… I can still work.” She touched her forehead and felt the cold beads of sweat on her skin, which she immediately wiped with her hand. She tried to reach for the things she threw when Mrs. Herrera stopped her.
“Are you okay?” the woman asked, and she wasn’t letting go of her wrist. Her hold was gentle, but Reena didn’t want it.
“I’m fine, please don’t worry about me.”
Mrs. Herrera gradually ungrasped her hold. “If you say so.” The woman leveled her eyes with hers. “Let’s eat?”
She nodded too vigorously. Swirling stars appeared in her vision. It was as if she lost her sense of balance all at once, her legs shaking and failing to keep standing up, and the last thing she caught a glimpse of was Mrs. Herrera’s horrified face as everything else faded…
~~~~~~~~~~
The woody scent in the furniture shop was gone. In fact, it was the first thing Reena noticed when she opened her eyes. A little bitter, too pungently pure as if bleached. When she tried to move her arm, she felt something tug her wrist. An IV drip. Her head pulsated, stronger at the backside. She squinted as her eyes adjusted, the bright glow in the ceiling blinding her.
Trying to sit up, she felt the baby move in her womb, urging her to stop and caress him. “Ssshhh… It’s okay,” she hushed while she pressed her back against the headboard.
She had to be okay.
“Hija! Estoy muy feliz tú bien!” Mrs. Herrera rushed to her side and helped her perch up. She didn’t understand a single word the woman said, but she often spoke in Spanish whenever she was in extreme emotion. Like now.
“Did you bring me here, Mrs. Herre–”
“I’m gonna call the doctor.” The woman quickly left without letting her finish.
Confusion followed by inevitable shame came upon her as she touched her forehead. Her temples still felt tender, but the urge to go home was more compelling than her pain or dizziness. As soon as the doctor arrived, she would request to be let go. She had no plans to stay in the hospital, let alone be pitied by her boss or the people around her.
A nurse and a doctor entered the ward and went to her side. The former checked her IV level and noted her vital signs. The doctor, on the other hand, sat beside her on a foldable steel chair.
“How do you feel now, Miss Lane?”
She tried to lift her eyes, but the bright white lights in the room stabbed her vision. With her eyes narrowing and face churning, she lifted a hand to the back of her head and felt its tenderness. “I feel a little bit… hurt.”
“Mrs. Herrera said you fainted and hit your head. Do you have anyone with you at home?”
A shake was the only answer she could give.
The doctor pursed his lips and stared at her, looking bothered. “Your blood pressure is low. With that condition, you’re not supposed to be alone. Besides, your due’s almost up. Do you go to your check-up regularly?”
Reena looked down but she didn’t know where to stare. She just wanted to avoid the doctor’s scrutiny. Besides, there was nothing to say. This doctor wasn’t the one she was having her check-up with, thankfully, because that doctor would definitely scold her for not going for a long time.
“As your day comes close, you must have a companion with you. This is something you cannot do alone. Aside from that, your boss said she doesn’t see you eating or resting on time while at work.” He paused, seemingly waiting for her response, but she remained tight-lipped.
She thought she could hear her heart beating. Hesitatingly, she forced herself to answer to dismiss the doctor’s interrogations. She looked up at him painstakingly and smiled. “Don’t worry about me. I… I can do this by myself.”
“Miss Lane, do you understand what I’m telling you?”
Reena looked over the doctor’s shoulder, toward the windows. The evening was starting to set, making her question how long she’d been in the hospital. In her thoughts, she wished that she didn’t wake up anymore. Perhaps, her dreams would’ve continued from where they ended, and she would not be lonely or crying again.
“I wanna go home,” she said while staring blankly at the flickering night lights of Whetstone.
Mrs. Herrera insisted on driving her back, but Reena quickly left the hospital and strolled on the road that led to the mountains. It was on the other side of town, yet, she didn’t mind. It was cold, making her wrap her arms around herself, but she’d rather endure the chill than have company she didn’t want.
She was dragging her steps burdened by the weight of her womb on the roadside when the phone in her bag suddenly rang. Checking it out, she was surprised to see 8-Ball’s name on the screen. Her heart skipped a beat. Does he have news for me?
“8-Ball,” she answered softly, still feeling weak, “have you found him–”
“Are you okay?” His voice sounded uneasy, but she didn’t need that.
“Yes, yes I am,” she lied. Not in a second she thought of telling him what happened to her. “Listen, do you have news about–”
“You’re not good at lying, Reena. Your boss called me. I’m heading there now.”
Mrs. Herrera called 8-Ball? Good lords.
The heavy air was expelled from her lungs. “You don’t have to do that. I can handle myself.” She tried to sound delighted to convince him.
“She said your blood pressure’s dropping. Do you eat and rest? Do you still take your vitamins?”
A sigh escaped her lips. She appreciated 8-Ball’s concerns, but she didn’t want him to waste his time. Truth was, she didn’t want to see any of them anymore. She didn’t want them to discover the kind of mess she was in.
“8-Ball, please don’t come.” She hung up and turned her phone off.
It was too late for them to be there for her. Her chest ached, recalling all the moments they promised to go there and visit her, but who was she to demand their presence and time? 8-Ball, Asuka, and Maria had their own lives, and their lives didn’t and weren’t supposed to revolve around her. However, she couldn’t help but feel they left her all alone… to be just on her own. They had not even told her any update about Claude.
Is it why they pushed me to move to Whetstone… so that they could get rid of me?
Even Tommy. It had been a month, receiving not a single message or call from him. Several times, she tried to reach out, but her attempts would end up in the voicemail, much to her disappointment. Reena pondered that maybe, Tommy had grown tired of talking to her because she was spoiling his weekend nighttime to call her and getting nothing but short, unenthusiastic reactions. If she were Tommy, she would feel bored and exhausted too, and she didn’t blame him for just leaving her hanging.
Perhaps, she deserved to be alone.
A car slowed down beside her, blue and red lights flickering on its roof, and on the doors were the markings of LSPD. The driver rolled down his window and called her. “Miss, do you need a lift?”
Reena glanced and saw two police officers inside the car. The man behind the wheels was white with slightly brown hair. He was big, kind of reminding her of Marcus and Leigh. The man in the passenger seat, on the other hand, was black with a thick mustache and bald head. Wondering where she saw them first, she realized that they were the officers who came to the shop that morning.
“Are you supposed to be walking alone at night, miss?”
She forced a smile. How many times did she have to do that today? “I’m fine, officers. My house’s just near.”
“What about you ride with us?” The officer behind the wheel seemed sincere, his brows creasing. “The backseat’s free, miss. It’s freaking chilling.”
“No, officer,” she firmly said. “I’m alright.”
“Well, we won’t leave until you reach your house.”
Why couldn’t people just get off her tail? Lowering her head, she turned around and went to the backseat, opening and closing the door gently as she got in. It was a bit cramped, but she was used to it before, and the driver looked at her worriedly while the other… she wasn’t sure. Curiously?
“My name’s Ralph,” the driver said, then pointed to the man beside him, “and this is Frankie.” The other officer saluted sluggishly.
“I’m Reena.”
The officers drove her home while she pointed them in the direction. When they reached the rugged uphill that led to the yard, the vehicle pulled over and she got out of the car. Ralph gave her a firm nod, to which she responded with a wave of her hand, and after she took a few steps up the mound, they sped away.
Cicadas rasped aloud from the mountains, their buzz echoing into the hollows of the night. The same, overwhelming scent of pine and cedar filled her senses, but along with it came the bitter taste in her mouth as she sucked up the harrowing reality of her anguish. She felt earth and gravel beneath her feet as she made her way to the porch of her lonely home.
She opened the door. Darkness and desolation welcomed her once more. Looking left to right, Reena tried to make sense of everything. All these gaps in her heart that were drained by her nightly mourning left her without a purpose. Her shaking hand fumbled for the light switch on the wall, flooding the living room with its dim glow, and there, on the couch, she saw Claude’s jacket again.
Time to grieve.
As she closed the door, however, she noticed the package that she placed on the counter before leaving for work. She hadn’t thought about it the whole day, and now, she felt a sudden compulsion to open it. Grabbing a pair of scissors, she started cutting through the seal. When she tossed the flaps of the box, small and round styrofoam fillings spilled out, spreading and falling to the floor. Almost, Reena thought the box was just empty had she not reached down to the bottom.
There were pictures. The first was a photo of a group of police officers surrounding someone on a gurney in what looked like a dam, while the second was a photo of a huge building, which she assumed was a police headquarters. She flipped the photos and put one under the other until she felt her hands tremble.
It was a picture of her in the shop. At the back was a note written in thick, aggressive strokes of blank ink, sending shivers down her spine.
“FOUND YOU!”
She turned the box over, looking for details of the sender but to no avail. Panic surged in her chest and her legs waned, so she reclined on the counter to keep standing. The box fell right in front of her, and all the minuscule pieces of styrofoam scattered on the floorboard.
Reena rushed for the door and locked all the bolts. Her heart rose to her throat, a rather queasy feeling she needed to endure. She climbed up the stairs and shut herself in her bedroom. She even went to lock her windows and cover them with dusty curtains. With only a pale light to shine in the dim chamber, Reena lay on her side while holding Claude’s jacket.
Who sent her the package?!
BANG!
She was jerked up by the slamming of the door downstairs.
What was that?!
With her fingers trembling, she took a solid figurine from the bedside table, walked slowly toward the door, and unlocked it. The hallway was as empty as it was before, though she couldn’t shake a perturbing sense as she stepped out of her room. She crossed the corridor that led to the stairs, careful enough not to make a sound. The banging continued and it got more aggressive as she climbed down. It did not stop until she reached the bottom of the steps. The faint creaking of her paces screeched in the dark. Only the light post outside illuminated the interior of the house, but it also paved the way for sinister shadows to be cast on the wall.
The door suddenly flew open, knocking her off. Reena felt herself bounce hard on the floor, pain shooting up to her hips in an instant. Her right hand fell on her protruding belly while the other pressed behind, keeping her from fully lying on the floor. Before her, the silhouette of a man emerged, grim and uncanny and menacing, and Reena could feel the chill in her bones spreading throughout her body as her eyes fixed on him.
“FOUND YOU!”
Notes:
This is the connecting event to Chapter 58: Faithfulness in The Reaper Man.
Thank you so much for reading <3
Chapter 15: Visitors
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
REENA'S EYES FLICKERED at the streak of light that seeped through the drapings of her bedroom window, her bedsheet and clothes dampened with sweat that accumulated beneath her skin. She was clutching the cloth above her baby bump, the same as where it was in the dream. The humid air of the room rather smothered her, and though the shining light was faint, it felt like no longer an early morning. Slowly, she sat and brushed her fingers through the strands of her hair, sensing a slight pang in her temples. Like her other dreams, the one she just had seemed real, but unlike her reveries of Claude, it was something she was thankful for that ended.
Aimlessly, she found her way toward the hall of the second floor, stepping softly on the wooden floorboard that creaked until she reached the stairs. Her body felt so heavy, but she pushed herself anyway, ignoring the growing pain and stiffness in her hips. Pressing her right hand to the small of her back and the other on the handrail, Reena climbed down, unsure of what to do once she got to the ground.
Halfway down the steps, she caught a glimpse of a calendar on the wall, from which she averted her gaze, turning her head to the kitchen counter where she found her phone beside the box. The styrofoams were still scattered on the floor, invading every little gap under the furniture they could reach. She left them like that the other night, having no strength to clean up after the mess she made when the box flipped accidentally. Looking at it, however, still gave her the creeps, remembering her picture and the two others she found inside of it.
The trip down the stairs also felt like a difficult journey to trudge. Finally, when she made it to the bottom, she strolled toward the counter and grabbed her phone, turning it on.
Mrs. Herrera’s message came first. “You don’t have to come today, hija. Take a rest.”
Squinting at the words her kind boss sent her, Reena saw that the time was already past noon. No wonder she was feeling all shit and in pain, especially around the hips. She sat on the couch, seemingly lost with what to do, hating the fact that she had no choice but to stay now that Mrs. Herrera told her not to go to work. It meant deliberately torturing herself in the prison she called home.
A home without Claude.
Her phone vibrated in her hands as multiple, consecutive messages came through. Frowning at the device, she saw that all of them came from 8-Ball, asking her what was going on and telling her he’d still come.
While reading the messages, she heard the sound of an engine driving across her yard. It was distinct that the wheels screeched against the rocky terrain. Listening to the sound of the car’s door being shut and footsteps approaching the front porch of the house, Reena found herself sighing heavily. She scratched her eyes with her knuckles and prepared herself to face 8-Ball. There was a knock, and reluctantly, she went to the door and opened it.
Mustering all the remaining strength she had to speak, she lifted her eyes to the person before her. “8-Ball, I told you not to–” She halted, her voice getting stuck in her throat while she gawked at the person she didn’t expect to appear. “Tommy?”
His lips trembled and curved into a smile. “Hello, Reena.”
She never expected him to come albeit whenever they talked in the past, he always insinuated it, and her hopes dropped even more when he stopped communicating. Her disappointment for feeling abandoned, however, somehow thinned, and she found herself smiling ear to ear. “Y-You surprised me,” she mumbled, hearing the pounding of her heart in her chest as she anticipated his purpose. The styrofoams got sucked by the faint gust outward the house, feeling their soft brush on her bare feet. Realizing that she’d been holding him up by the door, Reena stepped back and opened it wider. “Come in!”
Tommy welcomed himself in and closed the door, all the while not taking his gaze away from her. With his hands inside the pockets of the denim jeans he wore, he glanced around the house but immediately looked back at her. “I’m sorry if I hadn’t called you,” he said apologetically, his eyes locked on her face. “I gotta change my number. A dealer was nagging me, and I didn’t like it.”
She went around the counter and took the pot from the corner. “It’s okay, it’s not like you’re required to do so. I just figured you’re busy,” she bluffed, forcing herself to keep a happy face while she scooped ground powder into the filters. “Do you want coffee?”
“Yeah, I do, I’d love to.” His eyes were trained on her with profound delight. “Have I disturbed you?”
“Oh, no, I-I just woke up.” She chuckled, sheepishly tucking her hanging hair behind an ear. “I uh… I didn’t see the time. I’m sorry I can’t offer you anything else.” She put water into the pot and set it on the stove.
Seeing someone new – though, not really new – in her home was surreal. The people she had seen and met for months had always been the same, limited populace of Angel Pine, and though the town was small, she still didn’t know who they were. Having a visitor, especially a friend like Tommy, was like a breath of fresh air in an otherwise turmoil of sadness she was living in. What more if he’d tell her what she’d been wishing for?
If he was here, then, it might mean…
“Why are you here?” she inquired, deep inside desperately eager to hear about him. Reena’s yearning grew immensely, and only at the moment, she allowed herself to hope that Tommy’s presence meant there was an update.
Tommy leaned on the counter and smiled, his eyes glimmering like the gentle twinkles of stars in a night sky. “You look beautiful…” he mumbled, and his gaze was at hers still.
Glancing back at him, a soft, ashamed giggle escaped her lips. Reena squinted and her brows churned, but she looked at him anyway. As she prepared the cups, she asked, “Do I? I think I kinda look horrible.”
The pot whistled sharply, jerking her a little. She poured the piping hot black coffee into the cups before dropping a cube of sugar into each. Placing the cups onto saucers, she gently slid one toward her visitor and smiled.
“Always…” Tommy answered as he reached out for the cup.
Please, please, tell me about him…
“You know, Tommy, you always surprise me with your visits.” She was about to take her cup when he grabbed it before she did.
“Where’d you want me to put it?”
“On the coffee table, please.”
She was so used to tending to herself since 8-Ball’s last visit, and though Mrs. Herrera and Mr. Jenkins would sometimes drop by to accompany her, their presence was not enough to quell her longing. She didn’t expect that Tommy would somehow fill the gap with his sudden arrival, wishing that she should’ve invited him to come sooner. Perhaps, she wouldn’t be as lonely as now.
And perhaps, he could tell her something.
Tommy quickly placed their cups on the table, then he met her halfway, holding her gently by the crook of her elbows and leading her to the couch. He didn’t leave her side until she was already settled on the cushion.
“Thank you.”
He sat across from her. “You’re welcome.”
Amid the silence, they sipped from their cups slowly. The bittersweet brewed coffee comforted her… a taste she wasn’t able to appreciate when drinking alone.
“This is way better than the one we had in Washington Mall,” Tommy commented, flashing a bright smile while he looked at her.
“They make good coffee here in Whetstone…” she affirmed with a nod not too vigorous.
After sipping twice, Tommy laid the cup back onto the table. “It’s been so long since I’d seen you.”
“Me too, Tommy.” She paused, lowering her head and fiddling with her fingers. Tommy coming to Angel Pine might mean something big. Although afraid that she’d receive the same answer to the question she’d endlessly asked him, Reena slowly lifted her head and met his gaze. “Tommy, is there any news about Claude?”
The fear she felt at the very start proved to be correct as Tommy failed to respond. When he dipped his chin to his chest, she already knew what he meant, and in what felt like ripples of desperation, her heart began to shatter to pieces… again.
“Reena… how are you?”
People around her had always been asking that question. 8-Ball’s message would always begin with that. Mrs. Herrera’s first words to her in the morning were always the same. Even the doctor she had her check-up with before never failed to throw in the same inquiry. Everyone else seemed to want to know how she was, yet none of them could see what was really going on.
She’d be fine if he came back.
“I… I’m doing alright,” she conned, pursing her lips subtly. It was what she’d tell anyone, and they, afterward, would just turn away from the worry as if she didn’t look miserable. A little part of her was hoping that Tommy would see through, but she didn’t want to push on the matter more. She placed her cup back onto the table, forcing a little smile on her lips when she looked at him.
There was something in the way Tommy stared. His eyes scanned her whole face, lowering to her lips, then back into her eyes, seemingly searching for meaning through the façade she was showing. He was studying her carefully, scrutinizing every bit of defiance in her expression or in the way she spoke. He did it before when they were in the coffee shop on Washington Mall and when he visited her in the suite.
“I can see it, Reena,” he said, leaning forward, moving closer. “You’re not okay.”
Fortunately, she’d already put the cup down, or else, she would’ve dropped it to the floor. The smile gradually left her lips, and she couldn’t help but frown. She tried to retort, but her lips only shook and let out stutters.
His eyes – his scrutinizing eyes, from hers, they fell to her belly. She thought she saw them dull for a moment, then the sparkles returned, and he looked back up at her again.
“When are you giving birth?”
Reena thought about it. As her mind drifted and searched for an escape, she realized that she didn’t know the answer. How far am I now? 38 weeks? She pondered, and though she knew she could tell when if she’d just look at the wall, she refused. Out of fear, perhaps? Or out of spite?
“Soon,” she faintly muttered, unable to hide the reluctance on her face.
Tommy hadn’t moved from his seat. He hadn’t even removed his eyes from her face. “What do you plan to do? I… I mean, how?”
It all came sweeping toward her. Their absence. His absence. Her thoughts began to race against each other toward reason, setting aside all the hatred she consumed and subdued only for them to relapse and overwhelm her again. How dare you ask how right now when you refused to take my calls for a month?! Reena could feel her heart almost exploding, nerves raking in her ribcage.
She felt her baby kick, forcing a grunt out of her. “You don’t have to worry about me,” she sternly replied. “I can do this on my own.”
He was steadfast. No matter what she said, or however she showed her face with a pout, Tommy seemed to be unfazed. Unintimidated. Unyielding. Reena was familiar with that look on his face, and she couldn’t help but clutch tightly on her dress, feeling his growing trepidation across from her.
“Who’s gonna be with you?”
I want Claude.
Feebly, she played with her fingernails. “I’ll just go by myself. It’s close, and I –“
“I can’t let you do that,” Tommy spoke in a serious tone, the smile on his face was no longer existent.
“What do you mean?” Suddenly, a shooting pain began to linger on her hips, causing her to breathe shallowly.
Tommy sighed with a heavy breath and stood from his seat, walking toward her and kneeling at her side. Caught in surprise, she felt his hands on hers, slowly grasping. Though she was stunned, she didn’t draw back, and she let him clasp her hand, slightly kneading the plump pads of her fingers.
When he looked up at her, it almost felt like he was begging. His hold was gentle yet firm, and his eyes that spoke of his intentions looked dire. “I can’t let you go through this on your own,” he said, his voice assertive yet ironically tender. He paused, blinking twice, and his hands tightened around hers. “Come with me… to Vice City.”
Her mouth gaped, finding no right words to say. It was like a reflex that she suddenly pulled her hand away, standing up from her seat and grabbing Claude’s jacket on the armrest. “I don’t think I have to do that. I’m waiting for Claude here.”
He lowered his gaze to her belly, then to the floor. “I can no longer let you cry alone at night…”
What do you know?!
“Tommy, I appreciate the concern, but I really wanna do this by myself.”
Reena was certain that she didn’t want his help, but her heart sank when the shine in his eyes faded. Before her, she saw how he seemed to die inside but quickly revived himself back to earth. Tommy looked at her, palpably eager, and from the ground, he stood as well, mightier than she could ever be. His hands clasped hers again, and though for a second she considered pulling away again, she didn’t.
“Let me take care of you… and the baby–”
A loud knock thumped on the door. Their heads turned in its direction, and without waiting for Tommy to let go, Reena removed her hands from his grasp and approached the door. The pounding became consistent, getting louder each time, and she heard a familiar voice calling her name.
“Reena! Are you there?!”
She yanked the door open, seeing 8-Ball’s worried face. Beads of sweat had formed on his forehead, panting like he’d sprinted.
“Are you al–” 8-Ball halted upon looking over her shoulder, seeing her other visitor. The concerned look on his face immediately turned into a confused, half-agitated glare. “Tommy?!”
Tommy’s footsteps stilled behind her, and somehow, Reena felt the faint yet profound stiffness in the air between the two men who came to her house on the same day.
“Why are you here?!” 8-Ball probed, and she was certain he didn’t look pleased.
Compared to 8-Ball, however, Tommy was calmer. Amid the confusion she felt toward 8-Ball’s reaction and Tommy’s response, with the latter not answering the former’s question, she looked back at Tommy and smiled. “See, I uh… I’m not alone. 8-Ball will be here with me.”
It was just for a moment, but Reena swore she saw defeat haunting Tommy’s face. Lowering his head into a morose bow, he took a card from his pocket and placed it on the counter. He walked toward the door, staring and imploring at her, searching her eyes for something only he knew.
“I’m leaving my number in case you change your mind,” Tommy said, pursing his lips. He nodded at 8-Ball and smiled bleakly, then, he briefly touched her arm before he walked past her, heading straight for the car parked in the middle of the yard. Reena watched Tommy as he entered the vehicle, started the engine, and drove away from the house, leaving nothing but trails of dust bursting from the earth under the high sun.
As soon as he was out of sight, 8-Ball turned around and asked her with a churning face, “Why’s he here?!”
“He just… came,” Reena retorted, and she couldn’t help but glare at her friend. “I told you not to come.” She spun on her heels and walked back toward the couch, grabbing Claude’s jacket in her arms and clutching it tightly toward her chest without looking 8-Ball in the eyes.
While staring straight ahead, Reena caught a glimpse of 8-Ball going to the kitchen and stopping before the stove. He shook his head, and his disappointment only became more apparent when he opened the fridge and found nothing. 8-Ball began to click his tongue, causing her to turn her gaze toward him.
“Coffee again, really? And no food in the fridge?!” He tiptoed and opened the kitchen cabinets, finding a half loaf of bread on the second one and an almost empty jar of peanut butter. “Have you eaten?” he questioned her while spreading the paste on the slice of bread. “You can’t go on being like this forever…”
Reena was tired of hearing all of his blabberings. Whenever he called, he repeated all these reminders like a tape on rewind as if he was concerned, guilting her into taking care of herself because the baby needed it. An immense pain dawdled in her hips as her chest tightened, turning her face into a definite frown. Without looking at him, Reena felt a nerve within her snap.
“I told you not to come anymore.”
He was not listening. 8-Ball took her hands and forcefully made her hold the sandwich. “You have to eat,” he demanded, staring down at her with a stern expression.
Though she didn’t want to surrender, out of shame, Reena slowly lifted the bread to her mouth and took a bite. She forced herself to chew and swallow, tasting nothing but staleness. Even she couldn’t understand why she didn’t eat properly at all, losing her appetite and forgetting to drink. Every time she looked in the mirror, she’d see a woman with insipid skin, flimsy arms, a thin face with shades beneath the eyes, and long, lifeless hair. She didn’t believe Tommy when he said she looked great. Perhaps, he just wanted her not to feel bad about herself.
“When was the last time you had your check-up?”
Another nagging. For god’s sake, please, just stop.
8-Ball puffed. He scratched his head and stood, gently grabbing her wrist. “You have to take a shower,” he suggested, “and if Claude’s here, he’s gonna kill me–”
“Don’t mention him.”
His hold softened, and in no time, 8-Ball crouched before her, looking up into her eyes. The pesky 8-Ball had vanished, and in front of her, she saw nothing short of a friend, staring at her with profound distress.
“Is he still coming back?!” She felt her jaw tremble.
“Reena, you have to tell me what’s going on.”
She forced herself to keep looking down, but the tears that waited beneath the hollows of her eyes started welling. Reena clenched her teeth, trying to stop the inevitable stream of agony from flowing down her face, but even her remaining fortitude withered like the dead leaves in fall. A whimper flowed from her lips, soft at first until she cried louder and clearer, feeling the unbearable pain within. Her fists scrunched on the leather sleeves, hoping it would give her comfort, but they only brought so much grief.
“I dreamt about him,” she cried, lifting her now swollen eyes. “I saw him coming home to me… I felt his arms in my body, his breath in my hair, and oh… his face, I touched his face!” She raised her trembling hands, palms wide open, looking at the pads of her fingers that caressed him in the dream.
“Reena–”
“I don’t want to wake up anymore!” she puled, clasping fistfuls of hair on her head that flowed between the gaps of her fingers as if she was going crazy. “But every day I do, I still do, and my pain doesn’t stop… So, please, 8-Ball… tell me… is he still coming back?!”
8-Ball looked at her and stroked her arms. Reena didn’t want him or anyone to pity her, but she’d been holding back all the pain and sorrow for months of desolation and desperation, and this time, they had no plans of being buried in her imploding chest.
Arms wrapping around her, 8-Ball rubbed her back. “Calm down, Reena, you gotta breathe…”
She couldn’t help but rest her head on his shoulder, feeling the soft space rather caress her weariness. It had been so long since someone hugged her, and right now, it didn’t matter if it was Claude or not. She needed the fucking embrace so bad she thought she could die already.
They stayed that way for god knew how long, and 8-Ball hadn’t flinched even just a bit. He would sometimes press his lips on her head, and she’d close her eyes, imagining someone else burying himself in the waves of her hair.
“I’m gonna get you some drink, okay?”
Reena nodded, realizing how parched she’d become. As 8-Ball stood and went to the fridge, she felt her belly and hips rather cramping, causing her legs to twist slightly. Sporadic grunts escaped her lips, feeling the creeping sensation putting pressure beneath the small of her back, but in fear that 8-Ball would see her discomfort, she tried to hide it to the best she could.
Perhaps, it was because of her relentless sobbing, making it more urgent for her to stop. She needed to give herself and the baby a break.
“Reena? W-Where did these come from?”
Looking in his direction, she saw that he had opened the box and drawn the pictures out. 8-Ball’s face looked extremely alarmed, glaring at the pictures and the message.
“I-I don’t have an idea...” she mumbled, brushing the back of her hand on the tip of her nose. “It just arrived yesterday.”
“Have you noticed anyone spying on you? Who else might still be looking for you?!”
“I… I don’t know. I’m wondering, too… I, uh, I really don’t have an idea,” she said as she curled in her seat, unable to hide the growing pain any longer.
“Are you alright, Reena?”
“Maybe I… I just need to get upstairs and take a rest. I think I need to lie down. My back’s hurting…”
8-Ball swiftly came to her aid as she attempted to stand, catching her arms. She could feel the waves going around her hips like cramps, which she often had, but stronger. As 8-Ball helped her to reach the stairs, her eyes fell on the calendar plastered on the wall. A few marks here and there, the last she made was more than a month ago, recalling her final visit to the doctor.
He saw where she was looking, and as 8-Ball studied the calendar, he frowned. “Reena, what does that cross mean?” He pointed at the red mark she made last month.
“That’s…” She grunted, feeling another wave splash around her hips again. “That’s my last check-up.”
“You haven’t gone to the doctor since?!”
No use in lying and denying, so she shook her head. “I don’t think I still need to–”
“Shit, Reena,” 8-Ball huffed, not out of anger but more of fear. “It’s your month now, ain’t it?!”
That was when she realized that 8-Ball was right…
Notes:
Thank you so much for reading <3
Also, Happy Lunar New Year!!! Woooh! <3
Chapter 16: Hunted Down
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
TOMMY TOSSED THE keys to the valet attendant of the Vank Hoff Hotel as soon as he got out of the car. He begrudged that there was no open hostel in Whetstone, forcing him to look for one a mountain across from the small town, in San Fierro, with the nearest being the Queens. On his way, he noticed the crowd around Paradiso and a fleet of trucks with grandiose designs, congesting the traffic. As annoying as it seemed, if he had to pass by that same traffic just to get to Reena, he knew he would. He was well aware that he couldn’t convince her in an instant, and he didn’t expect 8-Ball would be there, almost blowing up his visit.
Disappointedly, he trudged the steps toward the elevator when he felt his phone vibrating in his pocket. Before he went into the platform, he answered the call.
“Vercetti,” he mumbled, struggling to say his name clearly.
For a few seconds, no one spoke on the other end. His brows creased as he considered hanging up; however, he heard a heavy sigh followed by what seemed to be grumbling.
“You could’ve just told me to fuck off. Why do you keep on ignoring me?”
The sound of the man’s voice on the other line pulled through Tommy’s nerves. For god’s sake, he didn’t know how the schmuck got his number, or why did the schmuck keep on calling him even though he made sure he didn’t intend to speak with him anymore.
Summoning the last straw of patience from his guts, Tommy gritted his teeth. “What do you want, Ken?”
“I just want to tell you I’m clean, Tommy.”
Not in a million years would Tommy believe his shit. “Oh yes! That’s amazing Ken! Finally, you can live your life without your fucking drugs! Can’t you?”
“Look, I tell you, I’m good, okay? I can go back. I’m fine, I’m–“
“Listen, Ken,” he paused, looking gallingly at the elevator closing before him. He put a foot between the doors to stop them from fully shutting. “Would it be so difficult to sense if someone doesn’t wanna talk to you at all? I’ve been trying to show you this but you just can’t pick the clues up!”
“Are you going to dump a friend for a whore?!”
Here he was, again, calling her demeaning names she clearly didn’t deserve. If he was just facing Ken, Tommy imagined that his fists were already crushing the bones on his face and his bare fingers pulling his tongue out, making sure that his darned mouth could never speak such a word.
“Don’t you fucking call her that,” he hollered. “And I did not dump–”
“Just like Claude?” Ken retorted, but even before he could retort, the man on the other line hung up.
As he opened the door to his room, Tommy angrily threw the phone onto the bed. He was furious that Ken found his number, that the lawyer was trying to intimidate him, and the mere fact that he actually got intimidated.
He took his clothes off and went straight to the shower, feeling the sprinkle of warm water over his weary head. The drops were comforting, but his thoughts were still in rubble, and he couldn’t get his mind off Ken Rosenberg’s call. Tommy ran his fingers through his hair as he let the water seep through the strands until they slid to his back. He hadn’t realized how stiff and tired he felt until now.
After a while of feeling the flow of water on his skin, Tommy leaned forward and pressed his hands on the bathroom walls, watching the ripples of water get sucked by the drain on the floor.
His eyes closed. He thought of Reena and how her hand felt in his. In his mind, he reminisced about the look on her face when she opened the door. She was fucking beautiful, and though she seemed thinner and forlorn, he saw her eyes glimmering at him. He felt himself smiling and his heart warming up. Her hazel eyes sparkled because he was there… the same way they sparkled whenever she looked at Claude before.
She was happy to see him. He knew she was, but she was still hoping for him.
“I’ll come back tomorrow,” he told himself aloud as he stood straight and turned the shower off.
The moment he got out of the bathroom, however, the phone on his bed rang once again, and Tommy couldn’t help but glare at the abominable device. Still bare, he scooted toward it and ignored the trails of water droplets he left on the floor, picking the phone up and pressing the answer button.
“For fuck’s sake, Ken, you gotta stop calling me or I’ll hunt you down!”
“Tommy,” someone on the other line called whose voice was not of Ken Rosenberg. “This is 8-Ball.”
Blood got drained from his head and he felt himself stiffening out of shame in an instant. Snapping out of his anger and disgracefully wiping his face with his hand from forehead to chin, he apologized. “I, uh, I’m sorry. Why are you calling? Where’s Reena?”
“Has she mentioned anything to you about a package?”
“N-No, she hasn’t. Why?”
“I… I think she might be in trouble. Can you come back?”
He didn’t have to know what the trouble was about. Without any hesitation, Tommy hurried to put on his clothes and exited the hotel room.
“I’ll be right there…”
Tommy found himself sprinting in the hallways of the hotel, rushing down the stairs, and heading straight for the parking lot. Once inside his car, he immediately turned on the engine, pushed the gear, and stepped on the gas pedal, darting out of the area in no time.
What he couldn’t believe, however, was the short time he spent in the hotel paved the way for a huge difference in traffic as soon as he reached the intersection. The roads became extremely crowded. Patiently, he waited, but he’d been sitting in his car for almost two hours, stuck in the heavy traffic in a roundabout in Paradiso and literally inching his way toward his destination. Tapping his fingers on the steering wheel, he counted each second that passed by without getting closer.
8-Ball’s words echoed in his mind. He hadn’t been told of anything except that there was a package, which Reena hadn’t mentioned to him when he was there. Maybe, it was the box on the counter, but he didn’t pay attention to it because he’d been focused on her and his intention the whole time. He was still quite disoriented by Ken’s call, but his worry for Reena was greater. Besides, if it was not something urgent, he believed that 8-Ball wouldn’t call him. It just meant the man had no choice at all.
The cars in front of him had been honking endlessly, and the blaring noise added to his displeasure and restlessness. Tommy gritted his teeth and tapped his leg on the car’s floor, looking ahead at the windscreen until he spotted a couple of road officers.
Through a megaphone with SFPD markings, one of them spoke, “We apologize for the inconvenience, but you gotta turn around. This road’s closed due to the parade.”
A throng of grumbling and cursing blasts instantly filled the area. Horns blared even more as the officers went from one line of vehicles to another, telling the drivers to go back. Some incensed motorists exchanged shouting fits against the officers whose message, despite getting blighted by an angry mob, had not changed.
“We can’t do anything, fellas. You gotta turn around and find another road.”
Some of the cars had started to back out, but the movement was too slow as it had to start at the rearmost vehicles. Tommy looked ahead, and several meters away were the huge ornamented floats with statues and people in costumes he saw on his way to Queens. He looked back at the other cars and drivers around him as they sluggishly maneuvered, and as he thought of following suit, his phone beeped, showing a message from 8-Ball.
“Hey, you coming? She’s been in pain since you left. I think I gotta get her to the hospital.”
“Fuck this shit parade!”
Veering to the little gap where he could squeeze his car into, Tommy floored and zoomed forward, alarming the road officers. One of them attempted to stop him but to no avail. He speedily drove toward the junction, scraping his car against the other vehicles whose drivers blared no more at the officers but now at him.
Several trucks and people were marching at the intersection. Without care, Tommy hurtled toward the parade, ramming the back of one of the trucks and causing the statues to fall over and the people riding on them to be thrown off balance. The others striding behind the truck quickly dispersed as they nearly got hit all at once, shouting and screaming curses and whatnot.
Without looking back and with the front of his car damaged, Tommy kept on driving forward, ignoring the clamor of the people behind him…
REENA FELT SHITTIER. The night had already set in, and the contracting pain around her hips and abdomen was getting harsher. Her grasp on 8-Ball’s arm would tighten every five minutes, and whenever he touched her hand, he’d tell her how cold it was. She felt herself shiver, trying to stop the whimpers that came out of her mouth, but they were too unbearable.
“We gotta go to the hospital now…” 8-Ball stood and grabbed the leather jacket that she was holding, helping her wear it. “I’ll be calling for a cab. Stay here. We can’t wait for Tommy anymore.”
“Hurry, please…” she implored as another round of contractions made her almost cry. The overwhelming feeling of pain in her hips and belly was too much that she couldn’t say more than beg 8-Ball to speed up. As she watched him leave the room, she caught a glimpse of flashing lights through the bedroom window, hearing the boisterous revving sound. She wondered if it was Tommy.
The door from which 8-Ball exited stood ajar, and somehow, Reena had the urge to follow him. In spite of the pain, she stood and walked slowly toward the silent hallway, taking each step in a scrupulous way. Every press of her heels on the ground shot up a sensation throughout her body that would culminate in her hips, forcing her to halt for a few seconds before she could take another step again.
Her heart skipped a bit and she felt it in her throat when a loud sound boomed from the floor below. It seemed like the door had been knocked down, like in her dream, and shuffling sounds of heavy footsteps riddled the floors that echoed toward the balcony. Her hands quivered as she touched the wall, trying to keep herself up despite the painful cramps. As wonder and trepidation filled her, she realized that whoever was downstairs was surely not Tommy, and they were many.
“Wait!” There was a man’s voice that she’d never heard before, so gruff and hollow. Whoever that was, he even harrumphed and knocked on the drywall. “I know you’re in here, Serena Lane! I went to your work and you weren’t there, so I fucked up the store, and that sweet lady and her weird son!”
Reena’s breathing stilled. Pain in the hips, on the legs, and in the chest altogether. She thought of her boss. Mrs. Herrera. Bobby. Did she hear the man right? Did they hurt them–
8-Ball suddenly appeared in front of her and grabbed her scruff, cupping his hand over her mouth while shushing. Mortified, Reena pushed his wrist. “What’s going on?!”
“Serena!” the man called out with excitement. “I know you’re here!”
She was about to react when 8-Ball yanked her back to the room. He locked the door and opened the closet, shoving her in.
“Sit down, don’t talk–”
“What the fuck’s going on, 8-Ball?!” she exclaimed, unable to hide her fear any longer.
Terror plagued his eyes. Bending on his stomach, he cupped her cheeks and stared at her profoundly. “It’s Leone…”
The pain in the back of her hips worsened as waves of throbbing sensation conquered her body, but hearing the name she’d not thought of for a long time seemed to gut her. Reena thought of her father… then of his death… and soon, the image of her half-brother came to her mind. The man in the dark corner of the club with Misty.
“Joey?” she asked. “What does he want–”
“Hide and be quiet!”
She pushed herself to the corner of the closet, holding her knees toward her body.
Panting heavily, 8-Ball shut the closet tightly. Through the gaps in the louvered closet doors, she watched him pick up the figurine on the bedside table. Footsteps approached from the hallway, and 8-Ball shrouded behind the door. The doorknob began to twist, then they started kicking the door until it opened wide.
The men came in, and as one of them entered while holding a gun, 8-Ball quickly hit his hands with the figurine. The man shrieked as he dropped the gun. 8-Ball quickly struck the man in the face, knocking him out. He grabbed the gun and shot the other. He pushed the door once more, dragged a small dresser, and wedged it beneath the knob. He scooted back to her and got her out of the closet, leading her to the window.
“Reena, can you go down there?!” 8-Ball pointed to the ladder at the far left.
Without any objection, she stepped out of the window, her trembling feet striding on the roof of the porch. It was fragile, so Reena tried her best not to put all her weight on the gable while holding on tightly to the windowsill. As she clung for her life, suddenly, a memory snatched her mind.
She remembered the time when she also jumped from the window of a hotel… with Claude.
The chilly air that brought along the calming yet ominous fragrance of the nearby pine and cedar trees blew through her hair, taking away the soundness she still had. Her throat tightened and dried up. Following the little voice inside her head, Reena jumped from the second floor of her house.
“Wait, Reena!”
Unlike before when she writhed in pain, she landed on the thick shrubs and grasses down the porch, rolling over her belly, then her back. Every time she’d see the plants she’d not trimmed, she felt like swearing at herself, but she didn’t know they’d be cushioning her fall in such a stark moment.
After regaining her footing, she looked up at 8-Ball and urged him to follow, waving her hands. “Come on!”
He looked doubtful for a second, but soon, he slowly put his legs out to step on the roof. As soon as both of his feet landed on the gable, a loud bang blared on the second floor, and Reena watched 8-Ball’s face as it flashed agony. He seemed to lose strength from holding on to the windowsill, and he crashed and rolled on the roof until he fell to the ground.
“8-Ball!”
She hastily leaped toward him on the shrubs, slumping on the earth and picking his head up. His face twisted in pain, and upon touching his back, Reena felt warm fluid oozing out. Drawing her hand back, she saw bright crimson glistening all over her palm and fingers.
“Oh my God…” she gasped.
Her mind went blank. The memory of that night at the heights of a burning scaffold where she felt his back and touched the hole from which it gushed out came crashing back to her senses. Air seemed to stop flowing in her lungs, and no matter how hard she tried to breathe, she felt nothing but terror and hopelessness.
“Claude…”
The potent stench of fire burning the foundations of the grounds she was standing on… the way she clasped the sleeves on his body that she wore now… and the agony of watching him slowly fade… they were all sweeping within her like a raging tide.
Rippling waters. Scorching steel rods and planks of wood. Explosions. She looked at her wrists and saw the scars that they left her months ago.
“You gotta go! I’ll stop them!” 8-Ball gripped her arm, shaking her out of vogue.
Her eyes fell to his face, and like witnessing the same thing over, she clenched her teeth. “No!” The word escaped her mouth like it was a reflex, certain not to leave her friend behind. She tried to heave 8-Ball up, anchoring her arms beneath the crook of his shoulders. She grunted in pain, but fuck, she didn’t care! She would never leave 8-Ball behind.
As they struggled to cross the rocky yard, hopefully, reaching the side of the road for help, she heard footsteps stepping heavily on the porch. From the door of her house came out a man she’d not seen for a long time, wearing a shimmering black suit.
“You might not remember me, but I’m Joey Leone. Salvatore’s only child.”
Reena panicked when she saw the gun in Joey’s hand. While holding 8-Ball in her arms, she unconsciously lowered her gaze toward her belly, then quickly looked back up again to Joey Leone, seeing that he was staring at her baby bump likewise.
“Your time’s almost due. Is that the son of the bitch?”
Though tears were starting to well in her eyes, Reena felt rage cascading within her. She glared with all her might, nerves drumming in her veins, when, in the midst of her anger, the most excruciating pain shot around her hips and belly. It was like her womb began twisting… constraining… and she couldn’t keep standing as she fell to the earth and let go of 8-Ball. She touched her belly as her insides tightened harrowingly.
“Oh…” her jaws trembled while 8-Ball crawled toward her. “It hurts…”
Joey laughed out loud with a mocking tone. “Is that it?!” he asked excitedly. “What a bad timing!” Joey’s fiendish snicker flashed in his mouth as he aimed at her belly.
“Go!” 8-Ball shouted, pushing her legs with his frail hands. He turned to Joey and grabbed the gun, pulling him toward the ground. “Get outta here!”
Reena tried to stand, but the pain in her belly became crueler. Whimpering, all she could do was push her body backward on the ground with her quivering legs, grabbing weeds on the soil for a hold that easily came off. She kept her eyes on 8-Ball, watching him wrestle against Joey on the ground until the latter fired.
“8-Ball!” she cried, seeing his hands bleed. “No! Stop it!”
Standing and snagging the gun from her friend’s bleeding grip, Joey pointed the weapon at 8-Ball for a second, seemingly pondering whether to shoot him in the head. But then, Joey hissed and faced her instead. “I’m sorry for your baby. It won’t see the light of the day.”
“Please, Joey! No!”
His finger was on the trigger; the muzzle was directed at her belly. Reena knew he was about to shoot her when out of nowhere, his hand suddenly burst. Extreme shock and pain evinced on his face. Joey Leone bellowed, holding the wrist of his bleeding hand. Horrified, she stared up at him and saw one of his fingers – no longer a finger, in fact, but a stub where blood splurted in all directions. Reena felt something coming out from her gorge, and to her side she leaned, puking on her arm that lay on the soil, warm bile from her stomach meeting the sweat and blood on her skin.
“Tommy?” Joey cried in a fit of rage. “Tommy Vercetti?”
Another blast roared, and in the corner of her eye, she saw Joey collapse, screaming and thrashing in pain.
“Motherfucker gods!” he yelled once again, and the once threatening voice he had was no more than just an outcry for help.
Finding the strength to shift in her position, Reena canted to her back, her elbows sinking into the ground, and there, not far from her, she saw Tommy shooting the men coming out of her house. He was carrying no ordinary pistol, and the bullets that came out of it riddled the men in suits, their bodies falling to and thudding on the front porch.
Looking back to the ground, she found her friend crawling weakly toward her. Joey Leone, on the other hand, was no longer in sight.
“Hey!” 8-Ball groaned and nudged her leg with his bleeding hand. “What’s happening to you?!”
Another round of blasts, the blaring noise of a weapon’s muzzle that splurted out seemingly unlimited bullets echoed, and flints of the ammo sparked in the air and struck a vehicle zooming away from the premises. When the car was gone, the shooting stopped, and silence once again took over the night until a popping sound came off. Reena looked down at her legs, between her thighs, seeing some sort of fluid gushing out from her groin.
“Tommy! Help! Reena!”
A hand fell to her back. Tommy was already looming over her, looking at her with terrified eyes. “Are you alright?!” He looked down at the ground as well, and she knew he saw the same puddle of fluid forming beneath her hips. The waves of pain crested, and unlike before, it didn’t ease anymore. Ripples were ripping through and smashing on her walls, the pressure in her groin turning stronger.
Blinding pain. She couldn’t talk any longer; she only grunted and whimpered as the agony continued. She was holding her belly, breathing shallowly in every surge of blow in her lower spine.
“Fuck…” 8-Ball cried, “You’re gonna give birth!”
Tommy hastily stood and picked her up, scooping her in his arms. He rushed to a visibly damaged car on the side of the road, almost stumbling on the hilly terrain, and gently laid her in the backseat. Once she was in there, he met 8-Ball halfway, the latter striving to walk, and draped his arm around his shoulder. He also led him to the backseat, ushering him to assist Reena’s head.
“Breathe in and out…” he told her, but he appeared in tremendous dread. Tommy shut the door and ran to the driver’s seat, jumping behind the wheel and starting the car in a bolt.
A scream tore her throat in a horrible cry, and as she felt the car move, her sight darkened. The numbness and discomfort and fear that she might not make it through overwhelmed her and took all the reasons away except for one.
She had to. For Claude.
Labor. Art by a-shipping-life (Tumblr, Twitter, and Instagram).
Notes:
Today's a good day for me :) I wish to share my happiness with you!
Thank you so much for reading! <3
Chapter 17: Cleo
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
THE SENTINEL ZOOMED on the road in a desperate attempt to get away from Angel Pine as quickly as possible. Joey groaned and howled in pain in the backseat, holding his bleeding shoulder and hand with one less finger, causing an instant panic to the only remaining mafioso – the driver. Every time Joey grunted, the mafioso would look at him both scared and worried, seemingly unsure how to help him out.
“Boss, shall we go to the hospital?” A huge, red cross sign gleamed not far from them. “It’s just there around the cor–”
“No! Fuck, just drive!” Joey shouted as he forcefully took his suit off, tying its sleeves around his wounded hand. “Make sure you get us outta here!”
“But boss, you’re bleeding–”
Joey slammed the headrest, startling the driver. “Did I stutter? When I say drive, you fucking drive!” He laid his back against the seat that barely provided him comfort, sliding up slowly and very, very carefully on the leather cushion while struggling to avoid straining his hurt shoulder. Using his left hand, he fumbled through his pocket, pulling his phone out and dialing for the only person he could ask help from.
While he waited for the capo to answer, he couldn’t help but wonder what the fuck Tommy Vercetti was doing there. It had been a long time since he heard about the man, back when Sonny Forelli died. Everybody knew that it was Tommy who murdered the feared Don, ending the Forelli’s reign not only in Liberty City but also in Las Venturas, giving Salvatore the edge to secure half of their shares in the Caligula’s. Joey knew him by the face, or so he thought, as he hadn’t seen him since he got imprisoned after the manslaughter he got involved in many years ago.
The Harwood Butcher. Yes, that was him. Salvatore met with him once after Sonny Forelli’s death for an unknown reason, which he later learned was to establish a deal that, as an expression of his gratitude for eliminating a prime enemy and rival in Liberty City, Salvatore promised that the Leones would never touch anything that Tommy Vercetti owned or protected, whichever or whoever that was.
High school, summer of ’75. The crunch of his cheekbones from Tommy Vercetti’s punch was still fresh in his mind. Fucking asshole. He hadn’t had the chance to revenge! But as much as Joey hated Tommy, he didn’t bother about his father’s agreement with him. Now, he quite resented the deal.
“Joey?” Toni’s voice surprised him. He sounded like he’d just gotten up from sleep. “What’s the matter?”
The Don swallowed whatever he could down his dried throat, beads of sweat falling toward his chin while blood gushed out from his wounds. The frigid whiff of the air conditioner in the car added to the throbbing pain he felt. “T-Toni, I need your help. Please…”
“Why? What’s wrong? Are you hurt?!”
He grunted. “Yeah, I was… shot. Hand and should– Fuck!” Joey screamed as the Sentinel leaped violently after passing a hump on the road. “Slow the heck down or I’ll fucking shoot you!”
The driver looked at him with fearful eyes through the rearview mirror.
“What the hell happened to you?!” Toni asked exasperatingly, but he sounded more curious than worried. “Where are you? And is it true you’re in San Andreas? What the hell are you doing there?!”
Of course, he didn’t tell Toni about Ken Rosenberg. The disbarred lawyer who approached him in the garage suggested two ways how he could get the inheritance. Maria Latore’s part was easy – it was just a car and a million – and like Serena, she didn’t have to know. As per the love child, it was either she’d give up the inheritance voluntarily and sign him as the executor, or she’d die. The latter was easier; he just didn’t expect that she was carrying an imp and some fucking ghosts in the past would be around to protect her, especially, an old teenage nemesis.
“I-I looked for her,” he mumbled, cowering at the very thought of Toni Cipriani bursting in anger. He wished that he’d side with him. “Gotta get my money from that bitch…”
“Who?” Toni asked. “Reena? Did you look for Reena?!”
Joey frowned. Why was he livid? “Who else?!”
“What did you do?!”
“I gotta void her inheritance–”
“The fuck’s wrong with you, Joey?!”
Toni’s voice thundered, and though they were thousands of miles away, the capo’s anger seemed to reverberate from the other end. Joey always knew that Toni, even without saying it, agreed wholeheartedly to Salvatore’s will, and how, he’d just proven it. What he couldn’t understand, however, was why the capo was so protective of his father’s bitch. It didn’t make sense at all, and the lingering feeling of his probable involvement in his father’s killer’s escape came crashing back again.
“Stay away from your sister–”
“I don’t have a fucking sister, Toni!” Joey retorted, rage brimming over his head. “For the love of god... I don’t know how it happened! She… she’s with Vercetti…”
There was a pause from Toni’s end. Radio silent. Joey thought he got disconnected, even looking at the phone to check if the call was still ongoing. When he put it back into his ear, he heard Toni’s low voice.
“Reena is with Tommy Vercetti?”
Joey squinted in pain as he adjusted his ass over the seat. “Yeah, and 8-Ball, but Vercetti… he’s here in San Andreas too…”
He didn’t know why but mentioning Tommy Vercetti’s name appeared to be some kind of a threat. Why would he be afraid? Or if it wasn’t fear, what was it?
“You’re in fucking trouble, kid,” Toni huffed. “If what you’re saying was true, don’t ever get near her again…”
“I’m not scared of him!”
“You should! Your father had a deal with him! Don’t be the one to taint Sal’s name!”
Anger raked Joey’s chest. All of them, they think so little of me.
His eyes trained ahead, seeing the distant lights of San Fierro from the mountainsides they were traversing. “Listen,” he panted, thinking of Tommy Vercetti’s image, then of Reena. The bitch. He was hoping she’d be ripped apart while she gave birth. “If you think I can’t do this, you’re wrong.”
“You’re out of your mind, Joey!”
“I just wanna tell you,” he muttered with his teeth grating beneath, swearing to never ask Toni Cipriani’s help ever again. “I’m taking what’s mine, Toni, even if it kills me…”
THE ROADS IN the south of Angel Pine were difficult to traverse at night. Far from the existence of cable cars in the highly industrialized part of the town, it was still predominantly huge grasslands and vast empty dirt roads. The pavements that led to the main highways were uncemented, rocky, and unstable, and there were only a few posts that shed light along the way, making Tommy’s car suffer every possible damage as it hurtled toward the center of the town.
“Who the fuck thought of buying a house here?!” Tommy exclaimed as he impatiently drove on the gravelly streets. At the back, he kept on glancing at Reena, whose head was lying on 8-Ball’s lap, seemingly passed out. Likewise, 8-Ball was pale and weak. He wasn’t able to answer his query either, not that it mattered.
Two people who looked like dying in his car… great. If that fucking parade didn’t block his way…
As they reached the town center, Tommy dashed through the avenue, ignoring the red light and a couple of crossing pedestrians. He ramped up on the footpaths, honking at the passersby to be let through. The more they moved forward, the narrower the streets became.
After a few more sharp turns and seconds of reckless driving, they finally arrived at Angel Pine Medical Center.
In fact, it didn’t look like a hospital. It was empty – too empty, aside from an old ambulance harbored at the corner that looked unused for a while. There wasn’t even a guard at the entrance. Not a sight of any other patient. It was the only fucking infirmary in the area. Tommy couldn’t risk driving across Mount Chiliad now. It was too late for that, and she might not make it through if he would bring her to San Fierro.
Tommy quickly got out of the car and took Reena from the backseat, scooping her in his arms again. Despite her weight, he ignored the strain on his limbs, and he didn’t fucking care if a nerve would tear as long as he’d get her into the emergency room. As he sprinted, Reena clung to his neck. Her eyes were squinting, her breathing was shallow, and every bead of sweat on her shit-white face remarked dread.
“My baby…” she whispered. “Please…”
Kicking the doors of the emergency room open, Tommy exclaimed, “Help!” He thought there’d be no one, but he thanked the heavens when he saw a staff behind the nurse station with earphones on. The sound his bursting made apparently caught the staff’s attention, and though looking rattled by his sudden entrance, the staff immediately approached them.
“What’s her name?”
“Serena Lane…”
“Are you having your check-up here, Ser–”
“Just fucking get her now!” he yelled in panic, scaring the staff who promptly ran away to call for help. He turned to Reena, and in an instant, his disposition changed, holding her closer to his body. “You’re gonna be fine…”
A nurse and a doctor appeared in the corridor, and the staff earlier was pushing a gurney toward them. Tommy gently laid her on the bed, wiping the hair off her face. She held his hand, but as the personnel took her away, her grasp slipped, leaving Tommy standing alone.
As he watched them take her to wherever, he recalled he still had another patient.
“Shit, 8-Ball!” Tommy exclaimed, darting out of the infirmary to get the bleeding man in his car.
~~~~~~~~~~
Still covered in sweat and blood, Tommy rested his back on the hospital bench and his head against the wall, eyes closed. The metallic stench of blood lingered in his clothes, and dry, rancid smears smudged all over his arms. He even thought he could taste it on his tongue, making his stomach churn. Trying to ignore all the things overwhelming his senses, the news being flashed on the television screen that hung at the corner of the waiting area caught his attention.
“No. 1 Desert Home Furnishing in Angel Pine, Whetstone, was attacked by an unknown group of men. The shop’s owner, Corazon Herrera, said that the group went looking for someone. When she asked what was going on, the group destroyed most of the furniture, the loss amounting to twenty-five thousand dollars.
Corazon Herrera said that she and her son, Robert Herrera, were too lucky to be able to hide after the group riddled their shop with gunshots, destroying their properties.
Meanwhile, a disturbing noise awoke the outskirts neighborhood of Angel Pine after a series of gunshots took place near the boundaries of Shady Creeks. The police found several men dead. The San Fierro Police Department is still investigating the incident…”
Cursing in exasperation, Tommy quickly took his phone and dialed his connection in LSPD, telling him that he needed things sorted out. Good thing, Marcus and Leigh’s cousin was easy to deal with, and the man assured him that he didn’t need to worry about anything. Breathing an exhausted sigh, he closed his eyes once again.
His mind wandered back to Joey Leone. Salvatore’s son hadn’t stopped looking for Reena, and he still wanted to avenge his father’s death. But why her? His stiff throat rose, its parchedness making it hard for him to swallow.
“Mr. Vercetti?”
He jolted up from his seat, red eyes fluttering in surprise. Rubbing the back of his hand on his eyes, he cleared his throat. “That would be me.”
“8-Ball Hudson has been stabilized. He needed a blood transfusion, though. He lost a lot.” The doctor said, to whom he responded with a nod. “We gotta transfer him to San Fierro Medical Center for treatment. Has this been reported to the–”
“Yeah, yeah, I’ve already reported it,” Tommy dismissed, lifting his phone and showing the doctor the call he just made.
The doctor nodded and invited him to see 8-Ball, but he was also warned that he couldn’t get inside the room for sanitation purposes. Soon, the doctor left, and apart from him, the hallway stood still and quiet, devoid of any living presence. It was the strangest hospital he’d ever been to, in a town where there was almost nothing.
Tommy rubbed his hands on the sides of his pants and stood to look for a restroom to clean himself up. He didn’t mind not getting into the room where 8-Ball was, but he had to do something if he wanted to get near Reena.
In the corner of the third hallway to the entrance was the male restroom. It had three urinals to the left and a couple of cubicles in the rear. A long counter with three basins stood on the right opposite the wall-sized mirrors. The staff in the middle urinal peered narrowly at him while he faced the sink, taking off his nasty shirt. Using as many tissue papers as he could, he wiped his face, neck, and arms, removing any nasty marks. Holding the collars of his shirt, he shook the dust off in the air, particles of soil and whatnot exploding and scattering on the floor. The staff in the urinal left, scratching the tip of his nose and mumbling some curses, but Tommy didn’t give a fuck.
He went to 8-Ball’s ward and checked him out, seeing that he was lying on his stomach while passed out. After staying for a few minutes, Tommy left the ward and walked back to the hallway where he was previously staying. Just right after he made it to the benches, a little fresher than he appeared before, a nurse came to him.
“You’re Mr. Vercetti, right?” The nurse looked at the patient chart she was holding. “Serena Lane’s given birth. Are you the father?”
Surprised by the question, Tommy nodded awkwardly. “Yes, yes… I’m the father… and the husband.”
Doesn’t it sound nice?
The nurse motioned him to follow toward the room where Reena was resting. The corridor smelled of a potent cleaning agent, whatever the hospital staff was using, and he hated that it lingered in his nose. Yet, with each step he took, he couldn’t contain the excitement to see how Reena had done as if he’d been waiting for that moment for a long time. When he entered the door, he saw her lying on the third bed to the right of the ward, exhausted but awake. An IV drip was connected to her wrist.
Albeit with eyes half-shut, she managed to force a smile at him. “Tommy…”
“Hey…” he said as he approached her, pulling a chair and sitting beside her. He carefully took her pale, cold hand and blew air into it, trying to make her warm. “Are you okay?” He smiled at her gently, gazing at her pale face. Despite the hollows beneath her eyes and the absence of color on her lips, she was still beautiful.
She nodded slightly and ever so deliberately. “Thank you…”
His heart swelled in joy. “Don’t mention it…”
Reena fell into a nap while he held her hand. Her candle-like fingers felt cold and frail. With her chest rising and falling slowly, Tommy realized how drained she was. It was his first time seeing her sleep, and despite what happened, she looked so serene.
Like her, he was fatigued. His head throbbed like hell, limbs strained, and body sore, but for him, it was nothing compared to what she’d just gone through. As he was dozing off, he suddenly started when a nurse came in, smiling fully while carrying a baby. His sudden action awoke Reena too.
“Here he is!” The nurse laid the baby under the crook of Reena’s arm.
Fully swaddled in a white cloth, the baby squirmed and cooed quietly. His face – he just looked like a carbon copy of Reena. Bubbly pink cheeks with faint freckles, small, pouty lips, and hazel eyes. The only thing he didn’t get from her was the color of her hair. His was dark brown, and for a moment, Tommy thought he saw a little version of his friend.
Weakly, Reena turned to her side and carefully stroked the baby’s face. He looked so fragile, and the sweet sound of his voice made Reena chuckle and whimper in delight. “He’s wonderful…” she mumbled as she leaned down and kissed him on the head, pressing her nose on his thin hair.
In his mind, Tommy lauded how strong Reena was despite cradling the baby alone the whole time. She fought through loneliness and hopelessness, battled against the threat to her life, and now, she had her most precious treasure. Her son with the man she loved wholeheartedly. The man she grieved yet still hoped for to return. The man to whom Tommy made a promise to keep her safe.
“Reena,” he said, reaching out and cupping her face, “I won’t forgive myself if something happens to you again. I’ll take care of you and the baby. Come with me to Vice City.”
She looked at him with rather forlorn eyes, but Tommy saw them glow in a different way. “How’s 8-Ball? And… what about the h-house?”
“8-Ball’s stable now. They’re taking him to San Fierro,” he smiled and continued, “and don’t worry about the house. I-I’d take care of it.”
She glanced back to her baby who had already fallen asleep. Tommy looked at him too… at the little bundle of joy embraced on her side.
“If… I come with you,” she said, “do you think, Joey won’t be able to hurt us?”
Tommy pursed his lips. “I promise you.” He grabbed her hand and squeezed it gently. “No one, not even Joey Leone could ever come near you again...”
His words flowed, a reassuring promise of safety and security, of protection and care he was always ready to offer and provide. Her hand, albeit feeble, tightened in his grasp, trembling as she nodded and beamed. His heart jumped with joy as she let him know that she was accepting, and he responded with a smile, feeling a sense of relief cascading within him.
“Claude…” she mumbled, “he’ll find us even if we leave Angel Pine, right?”
As he forced himself to nod, Reena let go of his hand and turned to the baby beside her, pulling him close to her chest.
“We’re going to Vice City, my Cleo...”
Notes:
Thank you for reading! <3
Chapter 18: Anything
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
TOMMY STOOD ON the gravel that surrounded the house in Angel Pine. He watched Reena as she hugged Cleo to her chest, climbing up the steps of the wooden front porch in the company of a gentle breeze and rustling leaves. She stopped before the door, seemingly in deep thought, tugging her gaze from the skirting of the house to the bedroom’s window above the roof.
“Welcome home, baby…” Reena leaned down and pressed her lips on Cleo’s forehead.
Then, she reached out, her fingers wrapping around the knob and twisting it. The door creaked as it was pushed open, illuminating the lonely living room. Her shadow cast on the floor, a perfect outline in the darkness, the only figure that had once given life to the desolate house at the foot of the mountains.
It was fixed. Immediately the day after Reena gave birth, Tommy hired people to settle the remains of the commotion that occurred on the property and had Marcus and Leigh flown to San Andreas. Broken doors and windows of the dwelling were fixed. Pieces of furniture were cleaned and covered. Reena’s things had been retrieved and taken by the two to Vice City in advance. In a few days, everything about the house in Angel Pine went back to normal, save for the emptiness because nobody stayed there anymore.
A faint whimper slipped from her lips. She pressed a hand over her mouth, then she closed her eyes, a tear rolling down her cheek.
Tommy approached her and touched her back, patting her softly.
“I didn’t realize how much I love this house,” she said, smiling through tears.
They stood before the house as she silently reminisced, letting her emotions pour out from her heart. Amid her cries, he stood beside her, just as he promised. She strode inside, and he followed, accompanying her and Cleo every step of the way as she made one last round in the house.
Somehow, he thought she didn’t want to leave anymore. She seemed to have difficulty letting go of the door when they exited, standing quite long before it. He could feel her profound heartache, and the smile she forced on her lips when she turned around to face him was giving away what she truly felt.
Of course, Claude bought it for her… for them. The hopes she nurtured for months on end hoping for his return were all gathered and would be left in the house, and Tommy couldn’t blame her for being afraid and reluctant to leave.
Reena walked out of the porch, taking a deep breath in front of him.
“I’m ready to go,” she said, biting her lip.
Tommy didn’t move. He just stared at her, giving her a chance to back out.
She walked down the three-step stairs so carefully, holding Cleo tightly, and pouted. “Come on. Don’t tell me you’re changing your mind?”
Tommy found himself smiling. “I just wanna make sure I’m not forcing you.”
As he and Reena walked back toward the car, an old man suddenly appeared on the roadside, peering at them with curious eyes. Beside him was a woman whose face resembled those classic mothers in sitcoms.
“Mi hija?”
Reena’s eyes lit up. “Mrs. Herrera! Mr. Jenkins!”
It seemed like she’d forgotten she was carrying Cleo. Reena rushed to the old man and woman, hugging them both. They were delighted to see her too, cupping her face, touching the crook of her elbows. The woman smiled so brightly and peered at Cleo, saying a lot of things in Spanish about how lovely he was. On the other hand, the old man was askance, often glancing at Tommy, leaning toward Reena, and whispering something.
“Is that him?!” Then, he threw Tommy a sharp and scrutinizing glare. “Well, his father better take care of you both! He’s been away for too long!”
Reena touched his arm briefly as if to calm him down. “Don’t worry, Mr. Jenkins. Tommy’s taking care of us.”
Didn’t she deny it?! His heart skipped a beat.
The woman embraced her tightly and kissed her on the cheeks. “I’m so glad you’re safe, mi hija. Tu esposo es muy guapo!”
Another one. Are you denying it this time–
“He certainly is,” Reena answered and peered at him. She tilted her head, urging him to come close.
His heart didn’t just skip a beat. It stopped beating. He forced himself not to stumble as he made his way beside her and Cleo.
“Mr. Jenkins, Mrs. Herrera, this is Tommy. We’ve been staying with him in Queens since I gave birth.”
They talked about a lot of things, and the couple asked about their plans. Reena told them she and Cleo were moving with him to the South. They seemed disappointed, but they also said it was better than her and her child living alone, lest another unlikely event happened.
“We’re so worried about ya,” the old man murmured. “We thought you got taken. Police and shit were all over ‘ere that night.”
“Me and Bobby… we’re so scared for you.”
“I’m really sorry, Mrs. Herrera, Mr. Jenkins. I didn't mean to–”
“You ain’t need to say anythin’.” Mr. Jenkins stopped her, his eyes growing large. “What’s important is you’re safe, you and that kid.”
“Be safe on your trip, hija. And when you come back, you’re always welcome to drop by the shop…”
“And my house o’er there!”
Reena embraced the woman and the old man so firmly. All Tommy could do was watch them say goodbye to each other while wiping the tears from their eyes. The old woman seemed to not want to let her go, but after some coaxing, she finally unwrapped her arms from Reena’s neck and just kissed her on the cheek.
She wasn’t so alone after all. In Angel Pine, though a few, Reena was surrounded by wonderful people. No doubt, despite her seclusion, life had been a bit survivable.
And Tommy wasn’t letting her go through it once more.
After waving at them for the last time, she tucked Cleo in the backseat and hopped into the passenger side with Tommy.
“I’m sorry if Mr. Jenkins and Mrs. Herrera thought you were my husband,” she said apologetically. “It would take a lot of explanation to correct them, so I just let them think you are. Is it okay with you?”
“No need to correct them,” he briefly stuttered as he started the engine. If she just knew how thrilled he was that they thought he was her husband and Cleo’s father…
The drive out of Angel Pine was slow and relishing. Aside from he wanted to be careful not to shake Cleo so much during the trip, he wanted Reena to enjoy the sight of the place for the last time. She seemed happy, though, as she closed her eyes while the rays of light seeping through the tall, dark trees that surrounded the road shone on her face.
“Think Cleo could do it?” he asked, breaking the stillness that engulfed them.
Reena turned around and peered at her baby in the backseat, quietly tucked in the carriage and sleeping. “He’s a big boy now,” she chimed, “he’d be better than me in flights.”
Three months. That was the length of time they had to wait at least to allow Cleo to travel by plane. Tommy had been going back to Vice City since then, but he’d stay longer with Reena and Cleo in the suite in Vank Hoff Hotel where she and 8-Ball recuperated. He was confident to leave her for a while because 8-Ball and Leigh were there.
Joey Leone didn’t return either and based on what he heard, he was back in Liberty City.
In the corner of his eye, he saw Reena rubbing her hands over her arms. She was wearing the leather jacket, but it appeared she still felt cold. “Are you alright?” he asked worriedly.
“Yeah, I am,” she mumbled, yet, she kept on doing the gesture. “Mrs. Herrera was right. When it’s autumn’s peak, it gets too cold here.”
“Well, in Vice City, it’s all warm and summer throughout,” he chuckled. “You’ll love it there.”
She just smiled and tucked herself in the passenger seat, closing her eyes once again as she leaned on the half-opened window.
Now, the day of their departure from San Andreas came, and Tommy and Reena picked up 8-Ball from the hotel. Together, they went to Easter Bay Airport, and during the trip, 8-Ball seemed to enjoy himself with the boy in the backseat.
The airport’s buzz was overwhelming compared to the tranquility of Angel Pine. Tommy marched toward the threshold and found Marcus and Leigh waiting near the check-in. “Everything’s set?” he asked, handing them the bags he was holding.
“Yes, Boss,” Marcus answered. “Leigh will come with Mr. Hudson.”
“Good.” He turned around and faced 8-Ball, pointing at Leigh to his side. “He’ll make sure you won’t get in trouble in Shoreside Vale.”
Jerking a firm nod, 8-Ball shook his hand. “Thank you, Tommy.” He didn’t look like despising him that much anymore. Ever since getting out of the hospital, 8-Ball had been remarkably kind to him, far from the disposition he had when they met at Reena’s door.
Smiling gently and tilting his head a bit, Tommy shrugged his shoulders. “Don’t mention it.”
Beside him, Reena moved closer while carrying Cleo in her arms. “Take care, 8-Ball. And thank you,” she spoke with a tender voice and smile, cupping his cheek with her right hand. “You saved us, me and Cleo.”
Seemingly unable to control himself, 8-Ball lunged forward and wrapped his limbs around her in a careful embrace. “You too, Reena… You too,” he whimpered, then his gaze lowered to Cleo, and glints of tears welled in his eyes. He leaned down and kissed the baby’s forehead, whispering something into the sleeping boy’s ear.
“Hey, don’t cry…” she teased, nudging his arm. “Don’t worry, we’ll be safe. I’ll let you know when we’re in Vice City. Tommy will take care of us.”
Tommy grinned to himself. He loved to hear it from her. She recognized that he’d take care of her and Cleo... that they’d be safe under his wing. When she looked back at him and beamed, all he could do was smile back and nod, but deep inside, he wanted to cry out of joy and scream at the top of his lungs. Too much happiness that he felt his chest almost exploding.
“It’s Uncle 8-Ball for Cleo, don’t forget!”
They watched 8-Ball as he entered the terminal with Leigh, waving at them for the last time before disappearing into the crowd. Peering over his shoulder, he saw Reena’s eyes trained on 8-Ball’s direction, though, he soon realized that she was staring at nowhere, her mind wandering in deep thoughts. Tommy touched the small of her back, jerking her a little bit, and led her gently into their terminal’s direction where Marcus was waiting.
“Asuka said she’s waiting for him at the airport,” he assured her, worrying if she was thinking of 8-Ball or pondering again to stay. “The LCPD won’t get him.”
“Thank you, this is a huge favor,” she answered, yet, a remarkable melancholy in her voice remarked something bothering her. “I promise to repay you–”
“It’s nothing. You sure you’d be okay on a plane?” Tommy waved his hand toward the craft from the airport’s huge transparent walls. He assisted her as she sat on one of the benches while they waited to board.
She flashed a bright smile, far from how she was before the baby came. “I’m sure my Cleo would be comfortable,” she said. There was no more dullness and resentment, and though pain might still be there, she seemed renewed and vibrant. Tommy looked at her as she kissed Cleo’s fluffy cheeks, burying her nose in the baby’s neck. The boy was surprisingly very behaved as well. Occasionally, he would mewl softly, or fuss, but he wasn’t giving Reena a hard time at all.
How lucky he must be to witness all these. Seeing her happy again felt like everything he needed. And looking at the baby – Cleo – his chest warmed in utmost delight, watching the lovely being coo in the arms of his beautiful mother. Whenever he did, she’d pull him closer to her bosom, and he’d quiet down.
As much as he wanted to watch them the whole time, Tommy forced himself to speak. “Flight’s about six hours long, non-stop. I’ll make sure you have everything you need. Marcus reserved first-class seats for us.”
“Isn’t this too much?”
“No, it’s not,” he assured her. There was nothing too much if it was for her and Cleo. He reached for her hand and clasped it gently. Then, out of nowhere, something glowed in her eyes. She turned to the huge walls, but instead of the plane, she was looking toward the vastness, toward the skies.
“Claude will find us in Vice City, right?”
A soft yet distinctive pinch tugged the nerves of his heart. After all, she still thought about him.
Forcing the gloomy feeling deep down his gut, Tommy smiled. “You ready?”
Though it took a moment, Reena’s lips curled upward as her eyes shimmered before him.
It was an extensive trip, but there was not a second that made it tiresome. Reena told him that she wasn’t so fond of flights, but she seemed to enjoy watching the clouds drift in space, the clear blue skies painting a colorful picture of peace and a new tomorrow. Tommy couldn’t help but look at her all the time, checking if she was truly doing fine and not just pretending so that he wouldn’t feel bad. Cleo was sleeping soundly in his mother’s arms, undisturbed by the mechanical noise and pressure in the cabin. He was astounded by the boy’s cooperation, making not a fuss, giving him a chance to spend quality time with him and his mother.
“Why are you looking at me like that?”
His face flushed when he found Reena peering at him with a grin on her face. Tommy shook his head and smiled nervously, pinching the skin above his nose. “I uh… I’m not looking at you. I’m looking at Cleo.”
She grinned even more. Fuck. “Are you wondering why I’m not dizzy?”
“Yeah, uhm… kind of–”
“Me too. Maybe you’re just a good companion.”
His heart almost burst with her words.
Apart from the smooth travel, Reena loved the food, the gourmet menu making a great impression on her. She was even ashamed to eat at all, but Tommy assured her it was part of what he availed for them.
“You really spent a lot for us…” she commented, but he just smiled at her.
I’m fucking willing to throw all my money for you.
The descent was rather seamless. Marcus got all their luggage and his mobsters waited at the airport’s threshold. Once they got out of the building, Cleo woke up, mewling a tad. Reena hugged him tighter, planting a kiss on his cheek. The boy immediately calmed down.
From Escobar International Airport, they drove through Downtown and Little Havana, passing by the busy streets and crowded avenues of Vice City. Tommy glanced to his side, seeing Reena looking ahead while Cleo lay on her bosom. He felt a different joy now that he’d come back to Vice City with her hand to hold.
As the city buzz faded upon reaching the bridge to Starfish Island, he couldn’t hold his excitement to show her what he prepared for her in the estate.
Tommy assisted Reena as she got out of the car with Cleo in her arms. He offered multiple times to carry the baby for her, but she seemed so unready to let go of her bundle of joy, keeping the little boy close to her chest all the time. Tommy understood that, and though he worried that she was getting sore, he could see how happy she was being with Cleo, so he didn’t push to relieve her of him anymore.
“It’s been so long,” Reena muttered under her breath, looking at the sight of the mansion in awe.
“Nothing’s changed,” he said, but his heart was racing in anticipation to see how she’d react once they made it to the yard. “But I wanna show you something.”
Up the stairs, they walked side by side until they reached the balcony, but instead of going inside, Tommy led her to the back of the estate. The dazzling garden pool surrounded by different kinds of flowers and plants welcomed them, and he was certain he heard Reena gasp. Tommy grinned, noticing how her walking became faster and her eyes gaping everywhere, head turning ever so slowly.
“Since when have you decided to tend your garden?!” she asked with palpable enthusiasm, looking back at him with an amazed expression. “Your place, it’s magnificent!”
Two angel statues with vases poured water into the pristine pools that overflowed toward the sea. The corners were lined up with topiary of various shapes and sizes, and the extensive grounds were carpeted with well-trimmed Bermuda grass, giving way to the cadence of colorful blossoms to flourish. At the base of the mansion was a little greenhouse shed surrounding the middle pool, where racks of empty pots and plants nestled at the sides. It was as if time willed it to happen that a butterfly landed on one of the flowers, adding to the exquisite beauty of the garden.
“I learned you like gardening, so I set this up for you.” Tommy motioned to the shed. “If you have time, you can start planting here.”
She giggled, and the way she did sounded like music to his ears. “You’re full of surprises, Mr. Tommy Vercetti.”
But he really did make it for her.
Reena was almost reluctant to leave the garden. To convince her to get inside first, he told her that she could go to the shed after she rested. She pouted, prompting his amusement, and when he started to laugh, Reena rolled her eyes playfully and obliged.
They entered the mansion and Tommy led her to a bedroom on the second floor. It was a nursery, completely equipped with a cot, a couch, a shelf of children’s books, a dresser, a pantry for milk and other stuff for feeding, and a lot of toys. The walls were also painted with light blue color and had a few cute drawings on them. Reena looked at everything in wonder, laughing to herself in utter disbelief. She glanced back at him and opened her mouth, seemingly wanting to say something, but she closed it again, just exhaling what looked like a puff of astonished and sheepish breath.
A slightly old woman in a uniform entered the bedroom. She approached, stretching her arms toward Cleo. “Welcome home, Madame.”
Reena turned her body away from the woman and prevented her from touching Cleo. “W-What are you doing?”
So protective. Motherly instincts.
“I’m sorry, Reena,” he interjected, walking toward the side of the woman who lowered her arms but was still smiling. “This is Mrs. Hubbard. She’ll be helping you in taking care of Cleo.”
Reena stared at her with worry in her eyes. “Mrs. Hubbard’s helping me?”
“Madame,” the old woman said sweetly, “you must be tired. You have to rest.”
He thought she’d still resist, but Reena walked toward the woman and handed over Cleo to her. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be rude. And please, call me Reena, Mrs. Hubbard…”
“You’re not, madame– I mean, Reena,” the woman assured her, gently scooping Cleo in her arms. “It’s my fault. I should’ve introduced myself first.”
Tommy was relieved to see Reena smile at the woman. He also noticed how she started pinching her arms, seemingly massaging herself. Perhaps, after hours of carrying her baby, now was just the time she felt her limbs strained. Albeit looking exhausted, this mother hadn’t taken her eyes away from her son, making Tommy admire her even more.
“Thank you, Mrs. Hubbard,” he said as he gave the woman a firm nod, and then led Reena out of the room.
As they walked into the hallway, she looked up at him and churned. “Why did you hire a nanny?”
He didn’t answer her yet. Instead, he opened the door to the room beside the nursery. There was a king-size bed on the left, facing the massive windows with thick drapings overlooking the Waterview. A few baubles rested on the drawers and a book under a lamp on the bedside table. Tommy showed her the walk-in closet where her clothes were neatly folded and hung. Across from it was a door to the bathroom.
“This is your room,” Tommy declared. “I had your stuff collected from the house. If you wanna see Cleo, he’s just in the other.”
“Cleo and I can stay in the other room. We don’t need to separate rooms–”
“That won’t be good for you. You won’t rest. I know.”
Reena puckered her lips and lowered her eyes, seemingly affirming his suspicion that she wouldn’t take a rest if Cleo was with her all the time. Although in a sense, she’d recovered a bit, Tommy believed she still needed more time to recuperate herself, and that wouldn’t work if she’d keep on tending to the little boy.
On the bed, she sat and resigned. “Alright. But I can’t promise you I won’t bring him here.”
“You’re free to do whatever you want,” Tommy assured her. “This is your house now. You and Cleo will be staying with me for as long as I have to protect you.” He sat beside her and took the book from the bedside table, giving it to her. “Why don’t you relax? I know you love reading a book.”
Reena’s brows creased as she faced him, putting her feet on the bed and curling up toward her body for a hold. She leaned her back on the headboard, and for a moment, Tommy wasn’t able to decipher what was going through her mind. Her expression changed so abruptly as she stared at him.
“Why are you so good to us?”
Tommy couldn’t help but smile, returning the book to the bedside table. He removed his shoes and scooted beside her, leaning his back against the headboard as well. As they both gazed at the windows while watching the wind blow through the drapings, he turned to her and gleamed.
“You wanna hear a story?”
She peered over her shoulder with a grin. “Mrs. Hubbard’s taken Cleo. As if I have anything else to do,” she jested. “Besides, I enjoy listening to you in person.”
He felt his blood rush to his face, making him certain that he blushed. He peered over his shoulder as well, seeing the intent in her eyes. She was right. He had nothing else to do, either. But if he did, he’d gladly abandon it and sit beside her just this way.
“Well, if you insist,” he said as he prepared for a trip down memory lane…
Notes:
Thank you so much for reading! <3
Chapter 19: Hired Guy
Notes:
Chapters 19-22 all contain flashback stories inspired by the missions in GTA Vice City.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Vice City, 1995
TOMMY CAME HOME to the estate only to find Lance Vance and the other mobsters drinking in the living room and doing nothing he considered productive. Empty boxes of pizza lay on the counter, bowls of nuts and other junk food, half-drained bottles that had spills at their bottom, and many other things tugged his nerves. Yet, what ticked him off was Lance just looking over his shoulder, seeing him standing at the doorway, and turning back to drinking like he didn’t give a fuck.
He’d been out all day dealing with their business partners in North Point Mall, professionally convincing them to pay protection money. He even had a disagreement with one, hard-headed man, and he had to prove to him that his head was rather soft.
As his ire grew within, he approached the intoxicated men, planning to confront them. However, before he even made it to the chairs, he caught a glimpse of the disappointment painted on Lance’s face.
Halting, Tommy clenched his fists. “What’s the problem?”
Lance took a swig from the snifter, then, in one swift motion, he slammed the glass on the counter. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and sniffed. “Some bar’s refusing to pay. They reckon they're protected by a local gang of thugs.” He took an unopened bottle and proceeded to open the cap. “But don’t worry, Tommy. I can handle it.”
Since they acquired the estate, Lance had been indolent. He couldn’t understand if it was because Ricardo Diaz was no more, making Lance complacent, or because, in reality, Lance still hadn’t pulled his own shit together since his brother’s death. There was no more effort on his part. Tommy, on the other hand, wanted to do things on his own most of the time. He knew he couldn’t trust everything to his men. He needed to be hands-on… to set an example. That was what he did and had been trying to do, but his friend was not matching his vigor.
Pissed, Tommy seized the bottle from Lance’s hand before he could even open it. The mobsters stared at him in fear, their droopy eyes ogling wide, suddenly losing their intoxication. Leaning on the table, he leveled his head with Lance.
“You call this handling it?”
Shaking his head, Lance seemed to ignore him. The man stood, took another shot glass, and poured some Bourbon, sticking out his hand toward Tommy. “Drink up, man. You’re too stressed out.”
“I ain’t like you, Lance. I don’t go around sitting and emptying every bottle in this estate the whole goddamn day and claim that I’m doing my part in this job.” Tommy snagged the shot glass and drained it immediately, slamming its bottom on the counter louder than Lance did earlier, cracking it. “If you can’t pick up your asses, I’m gonna do it myself.”
Wasting no time, Tommy stormed out of the estate, wiped his mouth with his forearm, and jumped into his car, driving away from Starfish Island. Those assholes were really getting into his head. If he just didn’t consider Lance as a friend, he would’ve already gotten rid of him.
The goddamn manager of that fucking bistro needed some hard life lessons.
Front Page Café was nestled between the Ocean and Washington Beaches, just a little north of the arrays of hotels in Ocean Drive. Parking his car across the road, Tommy got out and went straight to the café holstering a Colt Python.
There were a few customers in the café – a couple, a middle-aged man, and a Caucasian lad, the latter glancing at him at the slightest. As he entered the premises, however, two guards blocked him, and the manager seated at the far end stood.
“I-I told you, Tommy. We aren’t paying for another protection from your group!”
Two buff men stood behind the stout manager. His eye was twitching, and for a millisecond, Tommy thought he saw the manager tremble. Tommy’s glare tugged to the side. One of the men was pressing something on the manager’s back.
If Lance was more proactive, he’d learned that something wrong was going on in the café.
“You sure about this protection?!”
“Leave,” the manager said, his voice cracking.
Tommy didn’t move. Sneering, the two buff men charged. Tommy drew the Colt Python from his side, shooting them swiftly. As their bodies fell to the ground, he spun around and sniped at the other two at the entrance, killing them in seconds.
The customers screamed and cursed, rushing out of the bistro in panic.
“Your protection needs a little more protection,” Tommy huffed. “Why’d you get these guys?!”
“They threatened me, Tommy!” the manager admitted, shivering on his spot. “Told me to refuse your men or they’ll kill me!”
“Next time, before you get scared of someone else, think about me first!”
Deep inside, however, he was bothered, brewing a hunch about who was behind the nuisance. Their brown coats and clef logos on the left chest ascertained the crime family they were from.
Sonny Forelli pledged to make him pay, and since Tommy stopped answering his calls, the Don had been more aggressive in chasing him down, trying to extort a cut from his very own earnings. Tommy hissed in exasperation. The manager seemed to think it was because of him, so he scampered and took a crumbled cheque from his pocket.
“We’ve talked of cash!”
“This is all I have! They took all my cash and–” The manager gawked while looking over Tommy’s shoulder. “Oh, God!”
A screeching armored truck halted in front of the café, bursting clouds of fumes through its exhaust. From the vehicle emerged more men in brown coats with assault rifles. They immediately pointed the weapons at the café.
“Duck, you fucking moron!”
The café was riddled with incessant firing, a deadly storm of bullets from the abominable weapons clanking the steel tables and chairs. Tommy hid behind a narrow wall while the manager dodged underneath a table. Glasses broke, floral vases shattered, and smoke engulfed the café. The bullets ricocheted on the furniture, creating faint sparks that flew in all directions. When the shooting stopped, Tommy checked his revolver, finding two more bullets, so he took out the assailant who was advancing toward the manager.
Deciding he needed to attack, he sprang toward the manager’s side and flipped the steel table, using its top as a shield. Behind the metal platform, Tommy peeked and shot one more. The manager shrieked, both hands covering his head and his buttocks sticking out. Tommy peered once again, finding three men charging.
“Shit! What kind of a café do you have? A fucking drug den?!”
He threw his revolver toward the men, distracting them. As quickly as he could, Tommy sneaked at the side, grabbed a dead man’s pistol, and shot one more yet blindly. One was hit on the knee, and as he fell to the floor, Tommy sniped him again in the head.
“This won’t do shit!”
Unable to stop himself any further, he held the pistol in both hands and stood, swiftly firing at one of the remaining two assailants. Tommy was able to take him down, but the other was already holding up his gun. In a split second, he tried to think of how he could turn to him, but he knew he was already late – the last man standing was already about to pull the trigger while Tommy’s gun was still pointed at someone else.
The gun boomed, but he was not shot.
Instead, someone from the back sharp shot the assailant. The bullet that was supposed to hit Tommy struck a pole nearby.
The truck screeched and drove away from the café, leaving all the dead goons behind. Tommy breathed heavily, feeling his head throb both in exhaustion and wrath. He turned around, seeking whoever helped him.
A Caucasian lad. All the other customers in the bistro left when the commotion started, and he didn’t notice that this man stayed.
“Looks like you needed a hand,” the man said as he tucked his pistol into the pocket of his leather sleeves, face contorting in shock and brows creasing at the center. He wasn’t big or muscular. In fact, he looked young, in his early twenties, with crazy, long sideburns that almost reached the tip of his jaws. He had no huge tattoos or scars on his face, but he radiated a certain impression that interested Tommy.
Looking back at the manager, Tommy dusted and straightened his shirt. “You better pay me the right price after this, asshole!” Then, he turned to the Caucasian lad. “Nothing I could say but thanks.” Tommy walked toward him and stuck out his hand. “Tommy Vercetti.”
The man pulled the zipper of his jacket up to his chest. Then, he reached out and shook Tommy’s hand firmly. “Claude Speed.”
Tommy yanked up the table he’d flipped. It had a lot of bullet dents. At least, the furniture was sturdy as fuck. “I’m not gonna pay for that,” he grumbled at the manager scornfully, then, he looked at the man again. “You new here?”
“Yeah, I am…” Claude Speed said as he stepped over one of the bodies. “I was just hired to escort and drive someone here.”
“Driver?” Tommy probed further.
“On-hire.”
“But I see you can do more than just being behind the wheel,” he commented, waving his hand toward the man that Claude Speed took down.
“You’re quite… right about that.”
“Fancy another job?” Tommy offered. Aside from he needed a more hands-on employee, he was impressed and thankful that this someone – a stranger – saved his ass.
Claude Speed smirked. “We could negotiate that.”
Tommy pursed his lips as distant sirens approached. “Fancy a beer?”
The question seemed to please the man more. “Glad you asked.”
“Alright,” Tommy said as they walked out of the bar, leaving the manager standing stiff at the center. “We can talk over this new job as we drink…”
REENA WAS SMILING the entire time Tommy was telling how he met Claude. While he was too engrossed with his gestures and hilarious facial expressions, she couldn’t help but be amazed by their story. She liked listening to him all the time. He was a very entertaining narrator, but she loved it more because it was about Claude. Learning things about him kept him present and alive in her memories.
“The guy he drove for, it’s Avery Carrington...” Tommy snickered and paused, looking at her with excited eyes.
“Isn’t he the person you’re meeting that day?”
“He is…” He nodded while running his fingers through his hair. “He’s gonna introduce me to Speed!”
A peal of gentle laughter came out of her lips as she listened to Tommy’s revelation.
“When I learned that Speed was working for him, and he was about to introduce me to him, Avery boasted how he got to know him in Liberty City, saying he’s working an excellent job,” he said, smiling as he recanted. “Apparently, Speed was also his bodyguard during his short stay in the north.”
She found herself nodding while stretching her legs on the bed, feeling the accidental tension that the curling had caused. “How long did he work for you that time?” she asked, not wanting to drop the subject.
“Just short. Within two months, he went back to LC,” Tommy said as he stood, stretching his arms. “The moment I met him, I knew he was reliable. Saw my young self in him, won’t deny that.”
“Yeah, he is. Even my fa–” She paused, shaking her head. “I mean, Mr. Leone trusted him, too.”
Tommy smiled as he walked around the bed. “For a month, nothing eventful happened. I kept Speed around. He drove for me and accompanied me everywhere I went until I got more problems comin’ up…”
Her head followed Tommy’s direction, and seeing that he was about to go out of the room, she felt her face twist. “Where are you going? Are we done?” She was ready to beg him to continue if he’d say he was already leaving.
Peering at her from the doorway, Tommy grinned. “I’m getting us something to drink. Storytelling’s pretty long, and my throat’s parched. Hope you’re ready for a long ride…” He winked at her before he disappeared.
Now alone in the room, Reena turned her head toward the window, looking through the vast Waterview in the back of the estate. The wind was blowing gently, making her chill. From the hallway, she could hear Mrs. Hubbard humming softly, realizing that she’d not heard her son cry just yet. Relief filled her, followed by excitement, staring at the door and waiting for Tommy so that he’d continue telling her their story…
Notes:
This is in reference to Shake Down, Bar Brawl, and Recruitment Drive (GTA Vice City).
Some of the dialogues used in the flashback in this chapter were fleshed out from the missions in an attempt to novelize the scenes. I do not take credit for any of these.
Thank you so much for reading <3
Chapter 20: Wanted: Cops
Notes:
Chapters 19-22 all contain flashback stories inspired by the missions in GTA Vice City.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Vice City, 1995
THE SHOP OWNERS’ initial reluctance to cooperate with Tommy had gradually changed in the past month. They had been more cooperative, and in return, Tommy and his mobsters provided protection as promised. Payments for their services were smooth flowing and continuous, except for one delinquent shop that refused to settle for less.
Lance’s voice thundered as he shouted at Mike, one of the mobsters, on the estate’s terrace. Tommy immediately saw them, and his eyes landed on his friend whose movements manifested utmost trepidation.
“You moron! What were you thinking?! Do you realize what this means? We could all be sunk!”
“The timer must’ve got screwed! That place was wired to go up like a firework factory! Then, somebody tipped off the cops!”
Tommy climbed up the staircase, and upon noticing him, Lance and Mike quieted down, the former putting his hands into his pockets and turning around. He kept his eyes on them, and the way they acted in his presence made it known that something was horribly wrong and he wouldn’t like it.
“What’s the problem, fellas?”
Curling his lips, Lance reluctantly went up to him and grimaced. “Mike was supposed to torch that café in the mall, but he screwed up the fuses and now the cops are crawling all over it!”
“Tarbush?”
“Yeah, and I don’t understand why you’re still so calm about this,” Lance snarked as he came closer. “We gotta get our stuff and get out of here!”
“Relax, both of you,” Tommy said as he put both his hands up, keeping Lance a foot away from his face. “Let me think for a second.”
Lance looked over Tommy’s shoulder with a scowling face. Sensing his unwelcoming behavior, Tommy turned around and discovered that he was staring at Claude. The man was just standing nonchalantly at the foot of the estate’s wide stairs, but he seemed to notice that they were looking at him, so he stared back up in palpable confusion.
Gawking intensely, Lance jerked a nod in Claude’s direction. “Who’s that?!”
Tommy turned around and motioned for Claude to climb up, and though reluctant, he slowly did with his head bowed down. Lance glowered at him, and the more Claude went closer, the more Lance’s face sulked. Claude stopped a few steps away from them, seemingly sensing he wasn’t welcome.
“The cops are gonna be going over that building with a fine-toothed comb, right? But that takes time. We gotta go in and torch that place ourselves,” Tommy said, but Lance seemed not to hear him. His face just warped in inexplicable repugnance. Sighing a heavy breath, Tommy nudged Lance’s arm and tilted his head to the side. “Claude Speed. He helped me in takin’ out the DBP. He’s been working for me, barely a month.”
“So, your new friend and business partner, huh?”
“Whatever you say, Lance.”
Claude remained standing at the edge, reciprocating Lance’s glare.
“As per your plan,” Lance mumbled, shifting his eyes to Tommy, though it looked like he struggled a lot, “no one but a cop could get within a mile of that place.”
Victor Vance seemed unsuccessful in passing down his wit to his little brother. Tommy couldn’t understand why, in every suggestion he gave, Lance would always be skeptical… always finding an excuse to say it wasn’t worth trying. Living their lives as thugs for as long as he knew must have taught him something, but it seemed like he hadn’t learned any. It was a shame Victor had to die in that ambush, and he still blamed Ricardo Diaz for it.
“So, we go as cops…” Tommy declared, disappointed that Lance didn’t get the idea in the first place. “We gotta get uniforms, we’re gonna need a squad car–”
“How are we gonna do that?”
“I’ve got an idea.” Tommy turned around and headed down the stairs. As he passed by Claude, he patted his shoulder and jerked a nod. “You’re coming with us.”
He didn’t bother to look back at Lance anymore. He heard him snarl, sounding as if he wanted to oppose, but Tommy wasted no time and got in the car as swiftly as he could. Claude followed suit, jumping behind the wheel, and after several seconds, Lance came in, riding in the backseat.
Silence engulfed the three in the vehicle as Claude drove out of the estate. Tommy didn’t care that much, though, whenever he looked at Lance through the rearview mirror, he could see him rolling his eyes at Claude. Shrugging off his childishness, Tommy opened the dash compartment and pulled out an Uzi, cocking the weapon in his hand while he scanned the road for a police car.
“Tommy, our time’s runnin’ out!” Lance nagged, but he was clearly insinuating that the new friend was driving too slowly.
“We won’t find a police car if I’d be racing,” muttered Claude under his breath.
“I ain’t talkin’ to you!”
“Shut up, Lance!” Tommy shouted.
Lance lowered his head, but Tommy couldn’t care less what was going through his mind. His friend’s impatience and brazenness were unreasonable and pesky, especially toward Claude. If he knew Lance would be acting this way, he wouldn’t have brought him with them anymore.
From afar, a VCPD car approached, its red and blue lights flashing in the middle of the day. As soon as Tommy saw it, he pointed in its direction, urging Claude to drive close to the police mobile.
“You sure about this, Boss?”
“Yeah, follow them…”
Claude quickly maneuvered, tailing the VCPD vehicle. As they reached a roundabout, Claude drove past it. The officers looked at them suspiciously as they dashed. Once the squad car was behind them, Tommy rolled the window down and stuck an arm out. Pointing the Uzi upward, he fired a blast into the air.
The VCPD’s siren started blaring. “Stop! In the name of the law!” an officer exclaimed at them through the cracking megaphone.
Claude shifted gears and slammed a foot on the clutch pedal. He swerved left to right, avoiding the civilian motorists ahead. The VCPD took the other lane and zoomed toward them. Claude turned to the side near the bridge’s railing and ramped up the car into an inclining position in the gutter. The bottom screeched as it dragged on the cement, creating fiery sparks beneath.
“To Viceport now!”
That was Tommy’s plan. They had to get caught, but not on the bridge… not on the highway, but in the lock-up in Viceport, away from the public eye.
At the end of the bridge in Little Havana, Claude veered to the left, entering Downtown to the city’s harbor.
Tommy glanced at the side view mirror, seeing one of the police officers aiming a gun at them. The bullet hit the glass, the shards exploding and almost hitting Tommy’s face had he not pulled the windows up at least by half. He cursed explicitly, glaring at the rearview mirror, and apart from seeing Lance Vance with an annoying sullen face, he saw that there were three officers in the car behind them.
Jackpot.
“The lock-up’s just a few turns around the corner!”
Swiftly turning in the winding toward the secluded area of the port, Claude dashed on the empty streets into a bend of a cul-de-sac. He drove the car into the garage, almost ramming the wall.
“What are we gonna do, huh, Tommy?!” Lance’s inquiry irritated the heck out of him.
“Get out of the car now!”
They jumped out of the vehicle in haste, facing the open threshold. Tommy pointed to his side, urging Claude to go to the corner and stand by the wall near a red button. As soon as Claude did, Tommy raised his hands, showing the gun he was holding, and Claude and Lance reluctantly followed.
“Tommy, they’re here–”
“Just fucking stay still, Lance!”
The officers got out of the squad car that continued to blare a booming sound and flash an almost non-existent light. They clasped their guns so tightly, fingers curling in the trigger. One of the officers advanced, walking closer so cautiously as he stared at the weapon in Tommy’s hand.
“Drop your weapon and turn around!”
Tommy glanced at Claude, eyeing the red button on the wall. Claude seemed to understand what he meant, and when he stooped down and slid the gun to the officers, Claude pushed the button, and the door to the lock-up closed…
~~~~~~~~~~
Since taking over Diaz’s mobsters, Tommy had also gained control of the businesses in North Point Mall, a shopping center located at the edge of Vice Point that housed an array of businesses such as clothing stores, food courts, and record stores, among others. All of them were easy to coax except for one, a strange shop, that just popped into the mall out of nowhere. He intended to ignore it at first, but when he learned about its owner, Tommy knew he couldn’t turn a blind eye.
Tarbush Coffee Shop, the target, was located at the north end ground floor, and according to Lance, the police were all over it. At the police station in Vice Point, quite a distance from the mall, Tommy spotted some police officers on the road.
In the backseat, Lance was busy tucking the hem of the uniform below the belt that held his pants. “Oh, fits perfectly,” he commented, straightening the ruffled top.
“Bit tight around the crotch though,” Tommy muttered as he pulled the crosspoint of the pants, feeling its tight clutch in his groin.
“Oh yeah, mine too, mine too…”
Claude put on a pair of sunglasses as they approached the checkpoint. It was from one of the officers they left in the lock-up. He sped up a little, nearing the mall’s entrance.
“Easy, brother! No cop drives this bad!” Lance yelled in a whisper.
“Remember, smile at the other cops,” Tommy reminded as he threw Lance a lazy glare.
When Claude passed by the officers, he rolled down the window and saluted. The cop gestured firmly as well and let them pass by without further questions.
“Smooth, Speed. Smooth…” Tommy lauded, then he turned toward Lance. “Bomb’s ready?”
“Yeah. All set.”
“Okay, let’s go!”
They got out of the car. Tommy gave Claude a gun, which the latter holstered at the back of his pants while Lance brushed his hair up at the mall’s threshold.
“Hey there, officer. Nice badge, nice badge…”
After they passed by the guards and made it inside, Claude cleared his throat. “No one tells an officer that he has a nice badge…”
“Shut up! I’m doing my part!”
“Guys, relax…” Tommy walked between them, separating the two.
A huge palm tree stood in the middle of the mall surrounded by a tiled patio where some people sat. Faux vines and plants hung around the railings on the second floor where the shop Flyingdale’s was clearly seen. There was a cup-molded Sprunk booth to their left where a quite long line was waiting to be served the special lemon soda. The roof of the mall was see-through glass, letting in natural sunlight.
“What’s up with the café?” Claude suddenly asked.
“The owner…” Tommy said as he looked around credulously. “A Forelli.”
“Forelli?” Claude repeated as he removed his sunglasses. “Didn’t know their business reaches Vice City–”
“Stop asking, pretty boy,” Lance retorted. “We’re already here.”
Two officers in military fatigues carried assault rifles and stood at the café’s door. Tommy, Claude, and Lance passed them by, the latter rolling his eyes at one of the guards.
The coffee shop was empty. The potent scent of brewed coffee overwhelmed Tommy’s senses, amplified by the burnt smell of something being baked. Lance walked over to the corner near the counter, stooping and sticking the bomb underneath.
“Also,” Tommy said as he readied his gun, “their coffee sucks.”
“Okay, the timer’s set. Ten seconds ticking...”
Mortified, Tommy ogled at Lance. “Ten fucking seconds?! We gotta get the hell out of here!”
They stormed out of the café, startling the two officers standing by the doorway. The bomb detonated in no time, shaking the whole ground floor in an instant. The see-through ceiling was shattered by the impact and the nearby stores were covered with smolders and fumes as the debris from the demolished café flew all around.
It was chaos. A fucking chaos.
Tommy, Claude, and Lance leaped away, landing flat on their stomachs on the ground. Tommy ducked down, hands covering his head as pieces of glass fell over them. A huge spike dropped in the middle of the open area, exploding into small spikes, causing Lance to curse. The falling debris chimed like bells in tune accompanied by horrifying screams from the people who began to flee the place.
As soon as he regained orientation, Tommy snapped at Lance. “What the fuck?!”
“Intruders!”
The police were approaching. Tommy got on his feet, Claude and Lance following him close behind as he ran toward the exit. They were chased by gunshots, nearly hitting him and Claude. Tommy slid and hid behind a stall.
“You have to get a car!” Tommy exclaimed as he shot back at the police. He took cover behind the huge palm tree, using its trunk as a shield against the blasts. Though thick, the wood splinters struck his face as the bullets pierced through the tree’s body.
Claude unhid and knelt on one knee, sniping the officers that targeted Tommy. “Boss, you gotta move!”
Tommy ran toward the Sprunk booth, finding the seller cowering beneath the counter. A police officer started shooting in his direction, hitting the cups and pitchers of the infamous soda. The liquid spilled all around, covering the whole booth with its sticky, lemon-scented concoction. As the police officer charged, Tommy threw a stack of paper cups toward him, hitting him in the face. He quickly took advantage of the diversion to snipe the officer in the leg, disabling him.
Leaping out of the booth, clothes wet and humid, Tommy kicked the gun away from the officer’s reach and ran toward the exit. Claude followed him.
“I’ve got no bullets!”
“Where the fuck’s Lance?!”
The blinding light of the sun hit upon him, distorting his vision.
“Put your hands up!”
Tommy saw a group of police officers waiting for them outside, three of them pointing their guns. He and Claude looked at each other, and together, they dropped their empty weapons to the ground. No exit. Soon, officers from the mall would be coming out as well, and in all directions, they would’ve been cornered.
His plan didn’t work out after all, yet, Tommy couldn’t help but blame him for all of this. The Don hadn’t stopped hounding him. After the encounter in Front Page Café, he swore that he’d never let Sonny intimidate him anymore. Trying to threaten him was just one, but actively sabotaging his business while extorting him for money was another.
Did I really think I could go against such a powerful man?
With his gut churning, Tommy felt desperate. He was on the verge of giving up, throwing him back in time in Harwood where he was holding his hands up, being kicked down and forced to kneel by the same force that blocked his way now. All his hard work, his pain, his determination, everything… they began to pale before his eyes.
A boisterous roar. Tommy looked in the direction of the noise’s source. An Infernus was rushing toward them, and like a bolt of lightning, the vehicle rammed the group of officers. Bodies rolled to the roof of the car while others slipped beneath, crushed in the wheels of steel.
“Get in the car!” Lance exclaimed.
Without a second thought, he and Claude jumped into the backseat. The car zoomed out of the mall’s premises. Instead of going through the same way that they traversed as they headed to the mall, Lance turned to the right and aimed for the bridge on Prawn Island.
A fleet of VCPD chased after them. Revving vehicles with booming sirens and flashing lights overwhelmed the high roads.
“Stop! In the name of the law!”
Police officers hung half of their bodies out the window, firing at them. Lance swerved the car side to side to deter the gunshots while Tommy and Claude stumbled in the backseat.
“Do something!” Lance yelled as he kept on glancing in the rearview mirror, fear and panic raking his eyes.
“Give me a gun!” Claude hollered. Lance tossed a pistol toward him.
Claude opened the window and positioned himself leaning on the passenger’s seat. He quickly peered and shot the wheels of the police car, taking its front and causing the chasing vehicle to skid on the road. He retreated to the car just in time when another officer fired, hitting the right side view mirror.
“Bastards…” Tommy muttered as he opened the window on his side, poking half of his body out as well, shooting the squad car’s windshield. The bullet pierced through, causing it to veer uncontrollably to the side of the bridge until it crashed into the railings.
Along with Claude, he continued shooting at the police officers, particularly targeting the wheels to delay them from keeping up. At the end of the passage, Lance went straight to Downtown and turned left toward Little Haiti.
“What are you planning, Lance?! We thought you got screwed!”
“I don’t get screwed, Tommy! Not Lance Vance!”
The car crossed the narrow alley between Well-Stacked Pizza and Rock City. Though the car’s body scratched along the tight walls, Lance kept on going up to the dirt track leading to an old cab depot. In the backyard of the abandoned terminal, Lance parked the car at the far end, behind the dilapidated taxis, hiding their vehicle from the police. Tommy listened closely to the sirens as they came near but eventually faded, ascertaining the vehicles were just passing by and not lingering too long in the area.
No words had been spoken. No blaming and cursing. No shouting. Tommy leaned on the backseat couch, closing his eyes at the fact they almost got caught. He held the gun in his hand stringently, feeling the grip’s carvings on the pads of his fingers. He was thankful that Lance had come for them. He thought he had already left them behind.
Tommy didn’t know how long they stayed, but when they got out, he quickly headed for one of the cabs in the repair station. Claude went to the driver’s seat, but before he could grab the door handle, Lance stood before him.
“I’m driving, pretty boy.”
Without protesting, Claude backed away and opened the door to the backseat. “Suit yourself, Lance Vance.”
Lance scowled at Claude before getting in the car, but as soon as he sat behind the wheel, Tommy held his shoulder. “Let Speed drive.”
“What?!” Lance protested. “I can handle it, Tommy. I just fuckin’ saved your ass–”
“No, Speed will drive. That’s his job.”
“Fucking bullshit!”
Lance nudged his shoulder, removing Tommy’s grasp, and exited the car again, slamming the door shut behind him…
REENA RECALLED THE first time she’d heard of Lance Vance. Tommy didn’t have the chance to tell her about him because Claude suddenly came. Somehow, she wished that the same would happen – that while Tommy talked about Lance Vance, Claude would appear, telling her that they needed to go home, and he’d pull her close, wrap his arms around her body, lean forward to kiss her–
“You alright?” Tommy asked as he drank from the glass of water he was holding. “What are you thinking about?”
She immediately shook her head, feeling silly for even imagining it. “I’m sorry. I just… remembered something.”
“Do you wanna go to sleep?”
The trip was tiring, that was certain, but Reena hadn’t felt drained until Tommy asked the question. Did she look drowsy? Perhaps, or maybe it was her position that from sitting erect on the bed with her back leaning on the headboard, she was now slowly sliding into the sheets.
“No, no,” she answered quickly, trying to dismiss the thought of ever closing her eyes. “Tell me more.”
But she lay on her side and put a pillow between her arm and her head. She looked up at Tommy while she felt her body relaxing on the mattress. She didn’t realize how comfortable it was, feeling the coolness of the covers touch her skin like it was inviting her to nap. A yawn swiftly slipped, and she immediately covered her mouth with her hand, dreading that Tommy might interpret it as boredom with his stories. She enjoyed them a lot and she wanted to know more, but her body was giving in to the exhaustion she’d been trying to ignore the whole time.
Looking down at her, Tommy gently stroked her hair. “Why don’t you rest for a while?”
She was baffled by the gesture. Sure, it was not the first time he touched her. When she came out of the hospital after giving birth to Cleo, it was Tommy who assisted her in everything, from holding her arms when she was walking to lifting her shirt when she was changing. He’d always been respectful. Never had he looked at her whenever she was bare, and he’d leave the room when it was time to feed Cleo. She wondered why he was doing all of this, especially the distinct gentleness his caressing on her hair made her feel. It took her back to the time in the Waterview when they kissed–
No, it’s wrong. He might not remember it anymore. I… I shouldn’t think about it…
Reena frowned, forcing herself to refocus. Her question. Wasn’t it the reason why he was telling her their story… to enlighten her of his reasons?
“You still haven’t answered me…” she mumbled.
“We’ll get there, sweetheart…”
Tommy continued stroking her hair, and though her mind was trying its best to fight back, Reena couldn’t help but close her eyes. And by the time she did, she knew she wouldn’t be able to open them any longer. The last thing she felt was his fingers tenderly brushing against her cheek until her body decided to fall into a deep, peaceful slumber…
Notes:
This is in reference to Cop Land (GTA Vice City).
Some of the dialogues used in the flashback in this chapter were fleshed out from the missions in an attempt to novelize the scenes. I do not take credit for any of these.
Thank you so much for reading! <3
Chapter 21: Father Figure
Notes:
Chapters 19-22 all contain flashback stories inspired by the missions in GTA Vice City.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Vice City, 1995
TOMMY WOKE UP to find that Lance Vance had left the estate before him. His friend usually stayed there longer than he did, so he was quite surprised that Lance left early. He went straight to the shower, giving his beaten-up body a warm bath. His shoulders still felt stiff and his back was sore, discovering that he had a few scratch wounds caused by the shards that fell from the mall’s ceiling. He had some of his mobsters clean the wounds for him the other night with Claude and Lance in the living room, recuperating themselves.
Today, he planned to go to Print Works. The sheets for counterfeit money he’d collected from a syndicate were delivered to Earnest Kelly and the crew had been working hard to produce the bills. He wanted to know how was the business going, but apart from that, he just wanted to see him.
When he got out of the bathroom after a lengthy shower, he found his phone buzzing on the bed. Lance’s name was on the screen, and thinking it was urgent, Tommy picked up the phone, pressing it between his shoulder and ear while he snagged a towel and wiped his head.
“What’s up, Lance?”
“Keep your mouth shut there, Tommy, because I ain’t got time to talk. I ain’t interested in what you got to say. Why should I be? You don’t care about me, do you? You gotta look after me a bit better. Give me a fair slice, you know…”
Utterly shocked and confused, Tommy even looked at the screen to check if he was indeed talking to Lance. For a moment, he thought it was someone else, but upon confirming it, he put the phone back to his ear.
“What’s going on?”
“Tommy… man, look, I’m sorry. It’s just that people patronize me all my life and treat me like a li’l kid. My brother would do that. Please, don’t do that…”
“Look, Lance,” Tommy said as he sat down on his bed, scratching his head, “I think you need to take a break. This is stressing you out.”
“I told you, Tommy, I ain’t no kid! And you pick that damn Caucasian over me–”
“Hey! What the hell’s wrong with you?!”
“I gotta go.”
The line got disconnected, and all Tommy could hear was the beeping sound on the other end. Putting the phone down, he closed his eyes and swept a hand over his face in a mixture of disappointment and exasperation. Lance was turning into a burden, an immature freak with mood swings and lots of insecurities. Tommy wasn’t sure how long he could still put up with the shit.
Fretting over Lance’s incoherent rambling was a waste of time. Tommy stood and put on his favorite Hawaiian shirt, blue jeans, and rubber shoes. Earnest Kelly always told him that the attire looked good on him, and he took it to heart. Of all the places he needed to go to every single day, Tommy enjoyed going to Print Works every time. Earnest Kelly was like a father to him, and talking to the old man took him back to the memories of his own father, who, just like Earnest Kelly, worked in a printing shop in Liberty City.
“Mr. Vercetti? You bought the old Print Works?”
He’d never forget how surprised Earnest Kelly sounded when he purchased the dying company.
“Yeah, my old man used to work on these. I used to spend the evenings with him cleaning the rollers. I was gonna follow him in his trade but... I lived a different life.”
Since he’d acquired the printing shop, the old man taught him valuable lessons. He didn’t expect the extent of knowledge he had in terms of bogus cash, telling him that printing magazines and newspapers were all shit in business. Talking with Earnest Kelly about random stuff in Print Works felt like the kind of life he used to live before getting into the path he was taking now.
As he strolled down the hall toward the mansion’s exit, his phone began buzzing again. A wave of hesitation came, thinking that Lance was calling again, but when he checked it, much to his delight, it was Earnest Kelly’s name he saw on the screen.
“Pops, what’s up?” he answered enthusiastically. “I’m already heading there.”
“Hey, hello? Tommy? We got a situation over Print Works.” It was a different man, and he sounded scared. “You better go and check it out! Some kind of mess or other. Things are messed up!”
“Why, what’s happe–”
The caller hung up before he even finished his question. Realizing the urgency of the situation, Tommy hurried to the stairs, almost running on his way down.
“Boss…” a familiar voice called out. “How do you feel?”
Claude was standing at the foot of the steps, waving a hand at him. Tommy didn’t remember telling him to come, but he was just around in the right place and at the right time.
“Listen, Boss, I have something to tell you–”
“Good thing you’re here…” Tommy cut him out as he walked toward the garage. “Let’s go to Print Works.”
Claude seemed stunned, but he immediately followed him and jumped behind the wheels anyway. “What’s going on, Boss?”
Tommy didn’t know what to say. All he knew was that something was going on in Print Works, and he worried that Earnest Kelly got involved.
“We’ll find out.”
It didn’t take them long to reach Print Works. As soon as Claude pulled over, Tommy got out of the car and ran to the building. A group of men was hovering at the corner. He felt his face sour as he approached. They were looking at someone on the floor, one of them slightly crouched and holding whoever that was.
Earnest Kelly was beaten up, his face was filled with protruding and swelling bruises, one eye closed and sore, his upper lip burst, and a gaping wound on his forehead gushed out blood. His arms were battered, his right leg was seemingly limp and thrashed, and his whole overalls were covered in both blood and sweat.
Rage cascaded like a flood in Tommy’s chest, turning his vision dark in an instant.
“Who?!” His voice thundered, causing the men to disperse and give way for him to come through.
“T-Tommy…” Earnest Kelly whimpered, trying to muster the strength to speak while being assisted by younger staff. “Some mob thugs said they’d come to take their cut… said it was Mr. Forello’s money.” A coughing fit ensued, urging the old man to hold his chest as blood and saliva flowed from his mouth. Wiping the fluid with his sleeves, his hand fell onto his bleeding head. “Oh, I feel like crap!”
“Forelli?!” Tommy hollered, his temples pulsating in wrath. “ Sonny Forelli?!”
Earnest Kelly’s head trembled. “Yeah! That’s the guy! He took the money!” Tears started to stream down his inflamed cheeks, filled with remorse. “I’m sorry, Tommy. I wasn’t able to prevent them!”
Tommy pushed the others away from Earnest Kelly and scooped the old man in his arms, carrying him toward a more comfortable seat. Tommy held his face as gently as he could, patting his cheeks. “Don’t worry, Pops. I’m not angry with you.” He turned to the group of men and pointed at the tallest one. “Get him to the hospital.”
Only one thing came into Tommy’s mind at the moment. The Front Page Café… the Tarbush Coffee Shop… and now, Print Works. The Don was having fun hounding him all around, harassing innocent people just to get his way. Tommy took one last look at the old man, who, upon realizing that he was going, held tightly onto his arms.
“Rip that guy a new asshole for me!”
Earnest Kelly didn’t have to say it because that was exactly what Tommy was going to do.
“I’m gonna rip him two!” Tommy turned around, finding Claude standing stiff and distraught while staring at Earnest Kelly. He patted Claude’s shoulder and exhaled a heavy breath. “Come on, Speed. We got some hunting to do.”
They rushed to the car. As Claude started the engine, Tommy slammed his hands on the dashboard. He couldn’t even unclench his fists as his eyes continued to burn.
“Hurting an old man… I can’t imagine Sonny could go this real low.” His voice shuddered at the thought of Earnest Kelly while he pressed the dash compartment open. When he was about to take the Uzi, his phone buzzed, catching his attention. Without checking who it was, Tommy clicked the answer button and pressed the cell to his ear.
“Tommy, remember me?”
If there was one thing he didn’t want to hear, it was Sonny’s voice. But here he was, on the other line, taunting him. It was as if Sonny knew his disposition, calling him right now, perhaps, expecting him to fucking blow.
But Tommy was wiser. He wouldn’t give what the Don wanted.
“Hello, Sonny,” he answered in a very calm manner while brushing his fingers through the strands of his hair. Tommy leaned on the headrest, his teeth baring.
“That's right. We're old friends. You never write me, you never call. Don't you want to be friends no more?”
Beside him, Claude just waited quietly, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel.
“I've been busy trying to sort things out. You didn't give me a lot of support down here, Sonny.”
“Oh, my fault is it? Well, I've heard you been busy all right. Busy killing drug barons. Busy taking over. Don't forget about us, Tommy, 'cause I can assure you, I ain't forgetting about you.”
His chest was going to explode. He couldn’t imagine the kind of nerve Sonny had to tell him all these things. After sending him to Vice City, unleashing him in the South, and neglecting him as a part of the Family for years, the Don still had the audacity to assert authority over him.
“How can I forget you, Sonny?” he retorted, and from reclining on the seat, Tommy sat up straight, slamming his fist on the car’s dashboard. “Your men fucking beat up an old man!”
There was a chuckle, a very pesky cackling on the other end. “Obviously you’re suffering from hearing problems, so I'll try again. Where's the goddamned money, where's the goddamned stuff, and where's my cut of your new action?! You’re making an idiot out of me, Tommy, and I'm not laughing yet.”
His head pounded as if being beaten by a hard whack. Sonny wanted the money? Then, he’d get it.
“Where do your guys wanna receive your cut?”
“Now, we’re talkin’…” Sonny cried, his voice roaring in excitement. “Viceport, Tommy. My men will be waiting for you.”
“Expect me there.” Then, he hung up.
Rain was starting to lurk in the dusk, darkening sky. The noise of the city faded as they passed Downtown. Tommy snapped a full magazine into the Uzi, cocking it. He wrapped his fingers around the grip, feeling the cold steel in his hand, then he grabbed the bag from the backseat and stuck the weapon beneath the packs of white powder.
“You sure about this, Boss?” Claude asked as he drove into the entrance of the harbor, slowing down beside ten-wheeler trucks for a cover.
“Couldn’t be more sure than this.”
The docks were not at all desolate and quiet, although there were a few blind spots here and there. Tommy told Claude to drive toward the same place where he had a deal with the Vance brothers – the same spot where they were ambushed months ago.
Three men wearing light blue and brown Hawaiian shirts with guns holstered in their belts stood near the berth. It irritated Tommy, seeing them wearing the same shirts his mobsters wore, surmising that they might be using his name in collecting from his businesses. He looked ahead, seeing them glaring through the windshield at him, expecting his arrival.
When he was about to get out of the car, he noticed that Claude grabbed a baseball bat from the backseat. Confused, his brows churned and he turned to his side. “A bat?!”
“I got a gun, alright?” Claude smirked as he moved the flap of his jacket, showing a pistol on his belt. “But for men like this, bats are better. Trust me.”
“That’s impractical…” Tommy protested. “They could’ve just shot you.”
Claude huffed while pulling the handle of the car door. “Watch me.”
Shrugging his shoulders, Tommy exited the car holding a bag in his left hand. The Forelli mafiosos trod closer toward them. Claude followed close behind as they met the men in the middle of the clearing. The three wore blank faces, but one of them eventually grinned, lifting a hand toward Tommy.
“Bet ya the Don will be happy,” the man said. “You’ve been ignoring him lately.”
Without saying a word, Tommy tossed the bag toward the man who caught it in the air, grunting a bit upon clasping the straps. “A bit heavy, eh?” Another mafioso snickered and started unzipping the bag.
At the surface, a few hundred dollars were stacked over a pile of pouches that contained white powder. Tommy watched the mafioso click his tongue while fumbling through the contents of the bag.
“You know this ain’t enough. The boss will be mad.”
“Oh, isn’t it?” Tommy probed, walking closer. “I put everything there. Mind if I check it?”
The mafioso nonchalantly tossed him back the bag, and he caught it just like how the other seized it earlier. Tommy scoured the contents, taking the pouches out and handing them over to the mafioso. He let the bills, however, drift in the air, causing the others to panic and catch them.
“Hey! You’re throwing the money away!”
“I told you, it’s complete,” he said as he drew his hand from the bag, gripping the Uzi.
Tommy wasted no time. He blasted at the mafioso’s face immediately, bullets piercing the man’s head. The other mafiosos began to charge, but Tommy dropped the bag, clasping the Uzi with both hands and peering over the barrel as he fired. He sniped one in the chest and the other in the groins, taking the two down in an instant.
“Told you, guns are faster and more practical,” he told Claude as he holstered the weapon in his side.
The one that was shot in the groins was still alive, squirming in pain and whining on the ground. Tommy approached him and bent down on his stomach, seizing the man’s face. “Say, do you still have others around?”
He thought the mafioso was going to cry. Claude’s shadow loomed behind him, casting a shade on the injured man lying on his back. The latter’s face frowned in palpable pain and fear, looking at Tommy like he was begging for his life.
“I-In Havana, near Pay n’ Spray…” the mafioso muttered. “Please, don’t kill me…”
Tommy slanted his head and pursed his lips while nodding lightly. “Okay, but it’s because you said please.” Then, he stood back up again.
The moment he stepped away, however, he heard the mafioso mumble something that caused him to turn around again.
“Stupido!”
Of course, what did he expect? These mafiosos were not trustworthy, and they were only loyal to their boss, blindly following every order even if it cost them their lives. But this mafioso? He had the guts. Even though he was already suffering and most likely was going to die anyway, he still reached for the gun near his side. Deep inside, Tommy sighed in dismay, and he thought that giving this one mafioso a chance to live would turn his decision around. But, no. Like any other man hired into the Family, he was also the same, conceited, and traitorous member as he could be.
Tommy was about to take the Uzi once more to end this poor man’s life when all of a sudden, Claude swung the bat and hit the mafioso’s hand, tossing the gun away. It was too quick, but Tommy thought he saw the man’s wrist angled differently, and the shrieking that came out of his mouth ascertained that his hand was broken.
In an instant, Claude smashed the man’s head with the bat, jolting Tommy a little. It was just once, Claude didn’t do it again, but the mafioso began to convulse on the ground, seemingly catching his last breath. A few moments passed and he stopped moving and twitching, blood spilling from the gaping hole in his head.
“He hurt your Pops, right?” Claude said as he walked past Tommy, leaving him a little dumbfounded. “If I were you, I wouldn’t have given him a chance at all. You’re too kind, Boss.”
“No, no, no, no, no. I ain’t kind!” Tommy retorted. “I’m just holding back!”
Claude’s mouth quirked up into a snicker, and Tommy couldn’t help but chuckle in delight as well. Brutal… just the way he liked it.
“I’m starting to fancy your choice of weapon,” Tommy remarked as they headed back to the car again.
They cruised straight to the unused bridge in Little Havana, near the place where the mafioso said the others were waiting. It was already dark, but true enough, a couple of men in Hawaiian shirts stood beside dirtbikes. One of them was smoking a cigarette below the bridge, which he eventually threw to the ground and stepped on. Claude slowed down in front of Pay n’ Spray, pointing at the mafiosos not too far.
“What’s the next move, Boss?”
“Run them over.”
Claude quickly switched gears and pressed hard on the gas clutch, zooming the car toward the oblivious mafiosos. As the engine roared and went to full speed, the mafiosos turned in their direction, but it was already too late for them to react as the hood of the car slammed at their bodies, ramming them to the bridge’s foundation. Claude drove in reverse, pushed the gear forward again, and ran over the men as he was ordered to do.
Tommy felt the car go over the bodies like they were humps on the road, making him grin.
“Good job–”
Flickering lights caught his interest. From the side view mirror, Tommy peered, and he saw from the rear an approaching dirt bike that, pronto, drove past and fired at them, urging him and Claude to duck.
“Fuck!” Tommy yelled. “Don’t let those scumbags go!”
“Yes, Boss!”
Their car zoomed on the highway following the dirtbike that was already far ahead. Tommy saw them turn around, dashing back once again. He felt the car speed up further, and instead of staying in their lane, Claude swerved to the other, point to point with the bikers.
“What are you planning, Speed?”
Claude’s fingers dug further into the leather covers of the steering wheel, and Tommy smiled to himself, seeing his young, impulsive self in his henchman. Taking the Uzi once again, Tommy cocked the weapon and rolled the window down, sticking his arm out.
“Keep driving!”
Tommy fired at the bikers, hitting their wheels until Claude veered back to their lane. The bike lost its balance, causing the riders to flip over to the road, bodies rolling on the rough pavement. Without stopping, Claude ran over the mafiosos, their bones cracking beneath the wheels of the car. He stopped momentarily, and Tommy got out of the vehicle, approaching the two men and kicking them each, checking if they were still alive.
“Wanna be sure, Boss?”
He looked back and saw Claude holding the baseball bat once again.
“Nah, that should do it,” he snorted as he returned to the car and got in the passenger seat. “That'll piss the shit out of Sonny.”
“Alright. What else are we gonna do next?” Claude asked, looking at him from the driver’s seat. He had a mischievous smile on his face that seemed to match the success Tommy felt in their rampage.
If Sonny Forelli came… fuck it. Fuck him. Tommy was more than ready to face him.
“Let’s go to the hospital,” Tommy said as he leaned back on the seat again. “I wanna see how Pop’s doing…”
TOMMY LOOKED AT Cleo in his arms. It was the first time he’d ever carried the boy. Not that Reena had never allowed him. It was just… she never let the baby go.
So, he took the opportunity. When Reena fell asleep, he went to the nursery and found Mrs. Hubbard feeding the boy. He told her she could rest for a while downstairs while he looked after the baby. Cleo was awake when Tommy got him, but slowly, like his mother, his eyes closed, and in his care, the little boy dozed off.
He couldn’t imagine what life would have been like for him if he didn’t have his father or Earnest Kelly. Back in Liberty City, in the times when his own mother would berate him, his father would be there, consoling him right after. Though the man didn’t do much to defend Tommy against his mother’s cruel words, he knew that his father loved him deeply. He taught Tommy everything he needed to know and encouraged him to grow… be the man he wanted to be. When he joined the Mafia, he knew his father was disappointed, but more than that, he knew he was more worried for him.
Until he got imprisoned, and Tommy saw his father only once. The image of a fine-wrinkled forehead and a sagging face showed his father’s years of hard work and perseverance. He’d never forget when the old man held his hand and told him that he believed he’d get out despite having the death penalty behind him. Years after, however, he learned that his father passed on. Heart attack, they said. He never saw him or his mother ever again. When Tommy got out, he discovered she left Liberty City, and she didn’t leave anything, not even a message or a simple goodbye.
Then, came Earnest Kelly. In the lowest points of his life where he saw nothing but a bleak future for himself in the criminal world, he found guidance in his presence. He remembered his father a lot in him. When he needed a piece of advice, it was always Earnest Kelly who’d give him the right words, pulling him out of his miseries and doubts that no one could ever do. Even though they were not related by blood, he’d sworn to himself to take care of the old man for as long as he was living.
Speed, he thought. They were very much alike. Though his friend never knew his mother, unlike him, it didn’t make much of a difference. Claude grew up following the steps of his father until, like Tommy, he took a different path.
Tommy stared at the boy, feeling his warmth and listening to his soft breathing. The innocence of his presence gave him a calmness that he never felt anywhere else. And now? With this little boy in his arms, to be raised by his loving mother, he wouldn’t let Cleo grow up without a father.
He was sure, his father and his Pops would be proud of him.
“Hey… how long have I been out?”
Hearing Reena’s soft and groggy voice, Tommy’s head turned in an instant to the door. She was leaning on the doorway and scratching her eyes.
“Ssshhh, I finally had him close his eyes…” he hushed, beaming widely.
Reena sauntered toward them and reached out for Cleo. Tommy gently transferred him to her arms, and for a moment, he realized why it was so hard to let him go. As soon as she got him, she swayed and hummed, pressing the boy’s face on her bosom.
“You know, for a first-time mother, you’re awesome.”
She looked up at him sheepishly. “Believe me, I don’t know what I’m doing. I don’t know if I’ll be a good mother to him. I can’t even remember if my mom hugged me when I was little…”
“You will,” Tommy said while he stared at her. “You already are.”
Reena tiptoed toward the cot and laid Cleo on the cushion. She pulled the little blanket over his body and kissed him on the forehead. “Probably not as good as your mom,” she mumbled as she stood back up, tucking the wispy strands of her hair behind her ears.
“No, no. My mother is… not good.”
Her smile faded. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to–”
“You got nothing to apologize for,” he said, touching her arm gently. He peered at Cleo once again, seeing the boy’s bubbly face that made him smile. “I knew my mother very well, and you’re a million times better than her.”
Reena sighed a heavy breath. She seemed reluctant to look up at him again, perhaps, too conscious of the implications of what she said, but he wanted to show her that it didn’t hurt him.
“So, have you rested?” he asked, lifting a brow while playfully grinning.
She bit her lower lip and nodded. “I’m pretty awake now. Promise, I won’t fall asleep again.” She put her hand on her chest.
Tommy chuckled, and as he walked toward the door, he stuck out his hand for her to hold.
“Well, then. Waterview, shall we?”
Notes:
This is in reference to Rub Out (post-mission phone call only), Spilling the Beans, and Cap the Collector (GTA Vice City).
Some of the dialogues used in the flashback in this chapter were fleshed out from the missions in an attempt to novelize the scenes. I do not take credit for any of these.
Thank you so much for reading <3
Chapter 22: End of the North
Notes:
Chapters 19-22 all contain flashback stories inspired by the missions in GTA Vice City.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Vice City, 1995
IT WAS A surprise to Tommy to receive no news about Sonny Forelli or his men coming down to Vice City again after the incident in Print Works. He was expecting that the Don would send more mafiosos to coerce Tommy’s associates, but everything went quiet after their last encounter. That was a bit of good news, although it was just delaying what was already bound to happen.
Claude pulled over to the garage. After giving him back the key to his car, Claude cleared his throat and looked at him with rather regretful eyes. “Boss, I’m flying back to LC tomorrow.”
“What?” Tommy asked. “Why so sudden?”
They were just drinking in Malibu Club when Claude received a call. He looked thrilled when he checked his phone. Tommy watched him leave the bar and went outside to answer it, but when he came back, Claude looked a bit upset.
“Actually, I was going to tell you last time,” he said. “But something came up, you know, your Pops.”
“Thought you planned to stay longer?”
Scratching his head, Claude’s face churned as if saying he had no choice. “My girlfriend wants me to go back. Can’t refuse.”
Ah, the lover. Tommy had heard of her from Claude before. He was always so eager to talk about his partner, describing her as an incredibly beautiful woman with a face he’d never get tired of looking at. In return, Tommy told him about the women he dated before and how it was better not to be committed to anyone, but Claude just laughed him off.
Albeit disappointed, he tilted his head and curved his lips downward. “Eh, what can I say?” He stuck out a hand for a shake. “It’s been great working with you.”
Claude shook his hand firmly. “Me too, Boss.”
“And don’t worry, I gotta wire you the payment tonight.”
A grin formed in his mouth. “Would be nice to buy my girl something with what I’ve got.”
After saying goodbye, Claude left the estate on foot. Tommy watched him saunter out of the driveway, but before Claude got out of the gates, he glanced back and waved a hand at him, which, in return, Tommy bid with a salute. When he was gone, Tommy walked to the mansion, taking each of his steps morosely.
Claude Speed was far a better companion than Lance Vance and Ken Rosenberg. He was skilled, sharp-minded, and with initiative, unlike the people he treated friends who did nothing but complain and cause him trouble. Nonchalantly, he climbed up the stairs to his office, but before he even made it to the door, Tommy saw Lance and the lawyer, the latter marching back and forth while rambling. Meanwhile, Lance was just leaning on the table, his head following Ken’s pacing.
Here we go again.
“What’s going on?”
From the far end of the room where he stood, Ken suddenly scooted toward him. “Tommy! Oh good, good. Listen, listen, uh, listen. I like fish. I love fish…”
Tommy frowned. “Fish? What about–”
“I love them as pets in bowls, or as food on a plate, but as much as I love them, I don’t wanna sleep with them. Okay? But right now, your Italian brothers are coming from up there to fit me with some cement shoes, and I–”
“Shut up, Ken! Sit the fuck down!” he bellowed, pointing at the chair nearest to the lawyer.
Ken obliged and sat with both hands touching his head. Tommy couldn’t understand what he was talking about, but his mentioning of Italian brothers sparked an ire within. Looking at Lance who sat half of his ass on the desk very calmly, a total opposite to Ken’s disposition, Tommy thought that perhaps, it would be better to ask him the question.
Putting a hand on his waist, Tommy pinched the skin between his eyebrows and bowed his head down. “Lance, what the hell’s going on?”
Lance briefly licked his lips and shook his head, seemingly disappointed. “It’s your friends up north, Tommy. They ain’t too happy you capping their man. They’re coming down to see the business today.”
Tommy scoffed. He stared at the floor while his hands balled at the side. “They took longer than I thought.”
“What do you mean?” Ken lifted his head, the beads of sweat on his forehead and the churning of his face proved unmistakable dread.
Fury coursed through Tommy’s veins, thinking about all the mess he got into, all the years he wasted, and all the faith that was crushed because of Sonny.
“We’ve gotta make this final… We’re leaving no doubt that this is my operation. Mine!”
“What are we gonna do? It’s Sonny, Tommy… no one messes with Sonny!”
Exactly the reason why he should assert his position! No one had ever gone against the son of a bitch, not even when he forcefully took the position to become the Don and put Margarette – the supposed heiress of the crime family – in a hospice to keep her out of the way. Even she was not able to stand against him, making him more ruthless… hungry… powerful.
“You get the first run of the counterfeit cash and put twenty mils in briefcases,” he told Ken, and though the lawyer looked like he had another question to ask, he eventually nodded in approval.
“Me? What am I gonna do?” Lance asked as he stood straight from leaning on the table.
“You get the guys together,” Tommy said as he patted his shoulder. “We’re fighting a war.”
As soon as the two left the office, Tommy sent a message to Claude, telling him that if he still had some time, Tommy would be very glad if he could drop by the estate, though, deep inside, he didn’t expect him to come anymore. Without waiting for Claude’s reply, he tossed his phone into the drawer and went to the closet on the left side, taking out as many weapons as he could. He took his shirt off and put on a vest underneath it, covering his chest and stomach up to his back. Clasping a belt around his waist, he attached grenades and tucked in pistols and magazines. He grabbed his favorite weapon – an Uzi – and placed it on his hardwood desk.
“I’m ready for you, Sonny…”
Grueling hours passed and Tommy waited, mustering all the patience he could while he glared at the security televisions, waiting for Sonny’s arrival. He saw Ken’s white Admiral enter the driveway, the lawyer getting out of the car with the briefcases of counterfeit cash. Tommy tapped his foot on the floor, feeling every vibration along with the crescendoing drumming of his nerves.
Lance arrived alone. He went to the mobsters, who, after speaking with him, opened the gates and left. Then, he walked toward the estate, making Tommy wonder what he instructed the mobsters to do. Ken stormed into the office, sweating and panting, and shortly after, Lance arrived, giving Tommy a firm nod.
“We’re ready, Tommy,” Lance said. “Let’s get this on.”
Tommy’s heart hammered in his chest, ringing in his ears that nearly imploded. When he lifted his eyes, from the farthest camera, he caught a glimpse of an approaching fleet, making him stand from his seat. The boisterous roaring engines grew louder, ascertaining their arrival. Tommy walked out of his office with Ken and Lance, stopping before the first step down, staring at the entrance.
An armada of Sentinels hurtled into the driveway of the estate, blocking the entire bottom of the wide staircase. From the balcony of the second floor, right in front of his office, Tommy watched as Sonny Forelli came out of the middle car. The Don looked around and took a deep breath, his chest heaving up before he exhaled aloud. His mafiosos also emerged from the vehicles, all of them carrying various weapons and wearing stern faces.
The Don held out a hand to the right, to which a mafioso placed a gun. He tugged his brown sleeves and fixed his collar before he stepped up the concrete stairs, running his fingers for a final brush through the strands of his hair. It looked like he said something to the mafioso beside him, and they both chuckled before their eyes lifted to Tommy and his companions.
With Lance and Ken on both sides, Tommy climbed down the broad staircase, each step muffled by the thick, red carpet that covered the wooden surface. Ken was trembling beside him as they approached the foyer. Meanwhile, Lance looked a bit calm, in fact, too calm, though it felt like he was about to burst or something.
“Tommy!” Sonny enthusiastically greeted him with arms wide open. Tommy didn’t greet back, not even smiling, and Sonny’s face gradually turned into a pout as he lowered his arms to his sides. “What? No big hugs for your old buddy?”
Old buddy my ass. Locking his gaze with a stern, sullen look at the Don, he stopped a few steps away from him, standing still in the middle of his mansion. “I’ve had fifteen years out of the loop. I’m a bit rusty on family etiquette.”
Sonny laughed at him, but the disdain in his chuckle was evident and taunting. “Always angry, eh, Tommy. Didn’t I say your temper would get you into trouble, huh?”
“There’s twenty mills in the case–”
“How many was it? Ten? No, eleven men!” Sonny punched in the air playfully and smirked. “That’s how you get to be called the Harwood Butcher!”
None of his words impressed Tommy. If any, they riled the hell out of him, even more so, with their mere presence in the estate. No longer able to hold his fury, Tommy stepped forward, standing up face-to-face against his former boss.
“You sent me to kill one man. One man!” he hollered, raising his hand with a trembling finger pointing upward. “That Bowen wasn’t going to hurt me! Someone else knew I was coming there–”
“Tommy! Watch your tone.” Sonny’s warm breath stunk, and Tommy found himself rigid in his position. “Anyone would think you blame me for that unfortunate set of circumstances.”
Even up until now, Sonny never admitted to his suspicions. He wanted to tear him open and forcefully pull the truth out, but Tommy knew that nothing would happen even if he confronted the Don about the past. As steadily as he could, he stepped back a little and waved a hand at the briefcases that Ken Rosenberg was holding.
“Just take the money. Get the damn cash.”
More of Sonny’s men got inside and stood behind the Don. Tommy tugged his gaze around and noticed that there was not a single mobster in the mansion, not even behind the foundations and walls.
“Lance…” he whispered and leaned closer to his friend, avoiding showing worry on his face, “where are they? The gang?”
Ken Rosenberg lifted the briefcases toward the mafiosos, but the Don just jeered and waved dismissively. “You know, Tommy? I did what I could for you, I pulled strings, called in favors. I was your friend, Tommy,” Sonny said as he patted his hand, the one holding a gun, over his chest. “I hoped you’d see sense, see what’s good for business…”
Tommy felt a nerve throb stronger in his forehead. He was fucking tired of listening to Sonny’s speech. Why doesn’t he just take the goddamn money?
“I trusted you, Tommy, and you disappointed me.” The Don went closer for another time, urging Tommy to step back until he felt the bottom of the stairs behind his shoes. Ken backed off as well except for Lance who remained standing coolly and slowly turning his head following Sonny Forelli’s movement. “But at least, someone in your chicken shit organization knows how to do business. Isn’t that right, Lance?”
Tommy’s breath hitched, and for a second, he thought his heart stopped beating. His gawking eyes fell on Lance Vance – his friend and business partner – who was standing a few steps ahead. Now, he realized why he hadn’t seen any of the mobsters on the estate despite telling Lance to get them prepared. He even dismissed the remaining ones in the gates.
In an instant, his world came crashing down. He didn’t expect that after all they’d been through, after killing Ricardo Diaz together and avenging his brother, Lance would just throw him under the bus.
Lance Vance started walking toward Sonny and stopped beside him, spinning around to face Tommy and Ken. There was nothing on his face. No frustration. No remorse. Just pure, blatant apathy and callousness.
“I’m sorry Tommy, this is Vice City. This is business.”
Trying to keep his composure while fighting against erupting in wrath, he looked at Lance, feeling every fiber of him shudder. “You sold us out…”
Lance guffawed like there was no tomorrow, shaking his head as he rubbed the back of his hand over his nose. “No! I sold you out, Tommy. I sold you out!” Lance glowered at him as if they were never friends or partners. Only hatred and resentment seemed to reverberate from him. Was that how Lance really viewed him from the start? A tool to climb in the hierarchy? And now that Lance was done using him, he’d just forget everything?
“So, where’s the money, Lance?” Sonny asked.
“The real cash is upstairs in the safe.”
Tommy unclenched his hands. He turned around and started to climb back up again, leaving Sonny and the rest of the men, including Ken Rosenberg, at the bottom of the stairs, thinking about the throng of things he learned in just a few seconds.
First, the people around him, no matter the circumstance, could never be trusted. Didn’t he learn that with Sonny before? So stupid.
Second, things were controlled and driven by money, power, and greed. He had to be on the race, or they’d just trample him over. No more distractions.
And most important of all… all Tommy had left was himself, no one else. No one.
There was only one thing he could do, and even if it meant he had to fight them with his life, he wouldn’t let Lance or Sonny take even a single bit of what he had worked hard for.
From the bottom of the stairs, Sonny’s laughter thundered, the mocking tone was so prevalent Tommy could not deny that the Don was outright insulting him. “So, what was the big plan? Do you think I’d just take fake cash? Save face and run away with my tail between my legs?!”
Tommy continued climbing up until he reached the landing.
“You bastard! Don’t turn your back on me! Don’t tell me Vice City made you a fucking coward!”
He halted before the door. Tommy glanced back at Sonny, his eyes stinging in viciousness. His hands found their way to his belt where he drew a grenade, pulling the pin and holding the lever tightly.
“I just wanted to piss you off before I kill you..”
He tossed the detonator toward the men downstairs, the grenade bouncing on each step it thumped on, and Tommy watched their alarmed faces as they scrambled away from the foyer. The grenade blasted as it reached the bottom of the steps, shattering the huge chandelier at the top and destroying the foundations that stood on both sides of the stairs. Shards of broken glass and clouds of dust from the surrounding walls and ceilings fell, engulfing the entire space with haze and smoke.
Tommy dashed back to his office and took a rifle. As Sonny’s men approached, he held the grip and the barrel, pulling the weapon back slightly to his shoulder and tucking his elbows close to his body. He fired at them continuously, shooting everyone that attempted to climb the damaged stairs. Some mafiosos had already found the other passages that led to the second floor, appearing from the right wing of the mansion while the others spawned from the left.
He was fucking alone.
While he blasted at the mafiosos coming from the right wing, he tossed another grenade to the left. The detonator exploded and cut the left wing bridge into half as splinters of wood went all over the place. Preoccupied with taking down those who were coming from the right wing, one man from the bottom shot him in the chest, throwing him down to the floor. Tommy grunted in pain as he felt the blow despite having a vest on. Grunting and screaming fucks as he forced himself up, he picked up the weapon again and fired at the assailant, ultimately slaughtering the latter before he could even reach Tommy’s position.
As he prepared to come down, Lance Vance appeared from the right wing, holding a two-barrel shotgun. In a panic, Tommy dodged and leaped down to the floor, avoiding the bullets that struck the door behind him, shattering the case of the threshold.
“No one to cover your ass now, eh Tommy?” Lance sardonically shouted as he cocked the weapon again, firing another shot that barely missed Tommy’s head while he recoiled on the floor. Lance took two more casings from his pocket and inserted them into the barrels. “Where’s your Caucasian friend?!”
Tommy stood and retorted, all his anger unleashed. “You’re going down, you backstabbing prick!”
“Oh, you think so?!”
As Lance’s third attempt to shoot him failed, Tommy dashed toward the right wing of the mansion while sniping Lance, causing the latter to sprint back into the hallway. Tommy almost stumbled as he scooted to the chambers, chasing the traitor with as many shots as he could, exchanging fires at him from the bottom of the staircase.
“Come here you double-crossing piece of shit!”
“You’re history, Tommy! History!”
They reached the roof deck of the mansion, which was separated into two – the lower platform where barrels of smuggled gunpowder and corrosive materials were stocked, and the higher pad where a black Frogger was. Upon reaching the exit to the opening, Tommy found the mobsters that were guarding the gates earlier. Their guns blasted in his direction, not giving him a chance to fight back. He hid behind the wall near the doorway, but one shot him in his left thigh. Curse after curse, he unhid himself and knelt on his right, holding the rifle in both hands and shooting at the mobsters, taking his own men down.
He could hear the aircraft’s blade whirring rapidly, seeing Lance running toward it. Not in a million years he’d let the traitor use his property or flee unscathed while he battled to survive. Determined to take Lance Vance down, Tommy peered again and blasted at the group on the lower platform. He caught a glimpse of Lance getting into the chopper, so he targeted the landing skids, prompting the traitor to jerk and move away from the Frogger.
“Tommy, you fucking sore loser! Even your own men hate the fuck outta ya!”
The popping sound of the guns blasting had not stopped, and Tommy could hear every single bullet that clanged behind him. In no time, they’d reach his position, and when that time came, Tommy knew it was going to be his end. Taking a deep, dreadful breath, he faced them again, ready to receive whatever blow he was about to take for as long as he could kill Lance Vance.
I can’t give up… I can’t–
Suddenly, the barrel to the left exploded, shocking everyone, even Tommy. He cowered behind the wall, hearing the screams of the mobsters as the dark fumes reached him. Holding his hands over his head, a shadow loomed before him, and when he looked up, he wasn’t able to stop himself from bursting into a peal of victorious laughter.
“Looks like you needed a hand again,” Claude exclaimed as he fired at someone behind Tommy. “Come on, Boss! Get up!"
“Thought you were leaving!”
“You asked for my help. What do you expect me to do, ignore you?!”
Another round of blasts was fired in their direction, but Tommy’s despondency had vanished along with the smolders that rose in the air. Just as when he thought he was going to die, someone came to his aid, fighting beside and with him. Not a business partner. Not a traitor.
A friend.
“You came just right in time!” Tommy stood, finding his confidence once more, and despite his bleeding thigh, he charged forward, firing at anyone who appeared behind the smoke. Bodies thudded consecutively on the ground, and as fire engulfed the deck with thick blankets of the smoldering blaze, Tommy found his former friend behind the cloud trying to escape once again.
Without wasting time, Tommy clasped the rifle, tilted his head to the side, and aimed at Lance Vance whose back was facing him. Tommy fired, and as the bullet pierced through Lance’s white suit, he turned around, looking at Tommy with eyes and mouth gaping. He fired once again, hitting Lance in the chest, and blood started gushing from the wound and his mouth as he dropped to his knees.
Lance fell to his stomach along with the other dead mobsters on the deck. He seemed to try to move his arms, but the swift formation of the puddle of blood beneath him proved that he was already dying. Tommy watched him gasp for air, trying to raise his head and look up at him, but as soon as Tommy stepped right in front of his face, Lance finally stopped moving.
Tommy stared at the body of his dead, former friend, lifeless eyes remained agape. It was like all the pain and exhaustion swept over his body, making him tremble. Averting his gaze from the dead, he found Claude walking toward him.
“Too many men downstairs, Boss,” Claude muttered while looking at his wound. “You’re bleeding. I think we should get out.”
No, he shouldn’t. Taking a last glance at Lance Vance, Tommy clenched his fists, and although he was limping, he walked past Claude, resolute with what he wanted.
“Let’s finish it this time.”
For Tommy, leaving just to save his ass wouldn’t do him any good. They’d still come after him, his associates, his properties… and they wouldn’t stop until they drained the fuck out of what he got. Escaping would just delay what was bound to happen long ago. Instead, he wanted them dead. He wanted Sonny Forelli dead. And though it might mean he didn’t have the upper hand, he was willing to take the risk.
No more waiting. He was fucking done with everything.
The mafiosos were already dragging the safe from the office when Tommy reached the balcony. Upon seeing him, they dropped the vault and fired in his direction, hitting the railings and walls. Tommy returned fire, shooting one of them, and hurtled to the office to take down the others, sending their bodies rolling and falling to the bottom.
Sonny was waiting at the foot of the staircase with three mafiosos, and when the dead bodies landed before him, the Don lifted his glare and hissed. “No more pity party, Tommy! I’m here to fucking end you!”
Tommy sprinted to the center as the mafioso gave Sonny an assault rifle. As he stood in front of the office, the Don held up the weapon, peering over the barrel and aiming at him. Tommy picked up a weapon on the floor, one that was dropped by a mafioso he shot. Like Sonny, he held the rifle close to his body, cupping the barrel tightly with his left hand and pressing the grip under his arm.
Years of neglect and suffering came crashing back to Tommy as he stared at Sonny. This man he trusted for years, to whom he pledged his service, cared for nothing but himself. All he did that night was to heed Sonny’s plea for help, putting his life on the line just to do what the Don told him he must, only to find himself trapped in a circumstance that almost took his life.
That night, he almost died. He probably did… that part of him that pledged his loyalty to the Family. And now that he was free from the shackles that held him down, Tommy wouldn’t let Sonny take the autonomy back from him ever again.
“You took fifteen years from me, Sonny,” he screamed, letting the rage flow from his chest, “and now I’m gonna make you pay!”
The Don came forward and huffed, “You still don’t get it, do you? I own you, Tommy! Those fifteen years were mine to spend!” He tipped his head and motioned the two men beside him to go up. “Get him, boys, he never understood a thing.”
Finally, Tommy thought, there was no more denying on his part. It was Sonny who set him up in Harwood, that him being assaulted by eleven men was not accidental, and that he had been betrayed by the very Family he gave his life to. Although he suspected it for a long time, its confirmation raked a huge cut in his soul, crushing his heart into pieces. Somehow, he hoped that Sonny would still deny it and prove him wrong, but when the Don didn’t, it only made him believe that his world had been fucked up for so long, riddled with people who were set to deceive and stop him from rising in position.
Sonny’s men started to sprint upstairs, but one by one, each was taken down before they made it halfway, their bodies rolling back down toward Sonny’s feet.
The Don’s head turned in the direction from which the shots came, visibly surprised. He tipped his head once again toward its direction as if telling the remaining mafioso to see who was there.
Taking the chance while Sonny was distracted, Tommy darted closer, stepping down the stairs until he got in the center and fired at the Don. Sonny leaped and went behind a foundation, cursing. He cocked his rifle and fired back at Tommy.
Dodging the attack, Tommy scooted down the foyer, advancing toward Sonny’s position. The Don was already in a panic, cocking the rifle and shooting without hitting him at all, scurrying toward the exit.
A scream howled from the right side of the mansion followed by a gunshot. No more mafioso came out, and the Don gawked when he realized that he no longer had any companion. He pulled the trigger once again as he stepped back, but the blast blew past Tommy, not even close to his spot.
“We can still settle this… friend to friend–”
Sonny halted, looking over Tommy’s shoulders. More than the fear he was showing, Tommy sensed his confusion and surprise when his eyes gaped in inimitable terror. In an instant, the Don raised the rifle he was holding and aimed at something behind Tommy, pulling the trigger, but it just clicked, causing Sonny to stop moving.
“Y-You…” he spoke in such a voice so hollow. “How?!”
Tommy looked over his shoulder and saw Claude standing not too far, looking perplexed as well. His eyes trained on Sonny Forelli, then he glanced at Tommy as if asking him what was wrong. Looking back at Sonny, Tommy found the Don scampering toward the door. Forgetting what was going on that made Sonny look at Claude in conspicuous trepidation, Tommy found himself sneering. He lifted his arm, pointing the weapon at the back of the leader of the most powerful crime family in Liberty City.
“Arrivederci, Sonny!”
Bullets flowed endlessly from the muzzle toward Sonny’s body, blood spurting in every hole the gunshots made. He fell to the ground, already lifeless, but Tommy went over him and kept on firing on his torso – chest, stomach, and arms – until the bullets came out no more from the weapon. As smoke rose from the gun’s snout, Tommy finally felt the strain in his body, causing him to drop the rifle and slump to the bottom of the staircase.
“Let me check the mansion, Boss,” Claude muttered before he disappeared into the hallway.
Tommy stared blankly at nowhere, thinking of the bloodshed that happened when, suddenly, he saw someone crawling in the corner of his eye. To his surprise, he found Ken Rosenberg creeping from the left wing like a little insect, his hands covering his head, shaking very, very badly. Tommy pointed the rifle at him, causing him to stop. After briefly considering taking the shot, Tommy lowered the weapon.
“What the fuck are you doing, Ken?!”
The lawyer froze, then looked back at him. Although his legs were still quivering, Ken stood and scurried toward him. “Oh my God, Tommy! What happened?”
“What does it look like?”
“It looks like you ruined your suit! And Tommy, that was a beautiful suit!” Ken commented, and like before, his words were incoherent rambling of irrelevance. “Tommy, what on earth happened?!”
Rubbing his shirt and pants off the bloodstains while tasting the blood in his mouth, Tommy sneered. “I had a disagreement with a business associate, you know how it is.”
From the right side of the mansion, Claude appeared and approached them. “Boss, there’s no more mafioso.”
“That stupid prick, Lance…” Tommy muttered under his breath.
“Hey,” Ken immediately butted in, “I never liked that guy, okay? He’s neurotic, he’s insecure, he’s self-centered – the guy’s an asshole! And speaking of, where the fuck is he?!”
Claude stared at the body of Sonny Forelli bathing in his own blood. “I don’t think you’re gonna be getting any more heat from up north either, Boss…”
Tommy held the handrail and hauled himself up. “Yeah, because there ain’t up north anymore.” He scoffed and shot Sonny’s body again, making the lawyer shriek. “It’s all down south now.”
“Wait, does that mean what I think it is?” Ken probed in excitement. “Tommy, baby!”
“What do you think it means?” Tommy asked as he walked toward the door, looking at the sun setting on the horizon. It was the first time he’d ever seen it on the estate.
“That we’re in charge! I mean, that you’re in charge! Oh, Tommy!”
As Ken Rosenberg chortled, seemingly having forgotten the mayhem that occurred in the estate, Claude approached Tommy and clapped his shoulder. He winced a bit, feeling the soreness of his arm, but it looked like Claude intended to do it because he was snickering to his side.
“I think you won’t be needing a hand anymore, Boss.”
“Don’t call me boss, Speed.” He lifted a hand, reaching out for a shake, which Claude enthusiastically received. “Tommy. Call me Tommy.”
REENA LISTENED AS Tommy vividly recalled every moment of that day, telling her the tales that he and the mansion had gone through over the years. From the rubble of his past, he built his own fort, forging ties with people he trusted and taking out those who wanted him gone. A lot of carnage, indeed, but he was no different from Claude. Just like him, Tommy was just a man who’d been played by circumstances and used by the people around him, lost in the world… only to find his way back with no other choice but to be strong.
“This tattoo…” She wondered, staring at the sign amid the scars. “What does this mean?” She ran her fingers and traced over the curves of the bass clef on his left shoulder temple.
“Mark of the Family,” he answered with a brief smile, watching her intently as she finished at the bottom tip of the clef.
She admired him a lot. The things he did could not be all right, but he did all those to continue to exist. For what it was worth, Reena thought that Tommy deserved everything he had right now. He might still be on that same path, just like before, but far, far ahead, and deep inside, she could feel and she was certain that Tommy Vercetti was a good man.
“So…” Reena murmured, looking at him in awe. “Claude was here that time…”
In response, Tommy just nodded at her while he buttoned his shirt. “Yeah, he was.”
“I never learned about any of it from him,” she said, smiling and shaking her head.
“Well, Ken also made it out alive. I found him crawling on the floor, ducking his head like a fucking loser.”
“Good thing he did!”
“Since then, no one bothered me from the North, except Speed, of course. He came and stayed here a couple of more times before… you know, he got shot,” Tommy cleared his throat, seemingly wanting to dismiss what he said immediately. “Who would’ve wanted to mess with a convicted psychotic killer and a drug dealer like me?”
She laughed at the way Tommy described himself. He was, perhaps, but it was not all there was about him. “You aren’t just like that. You’re a great man, Tommy.”
He looked at her, flushing. “All these could have been taken from me that day if not for Speed,” Tommy mumbled, waving a hand at the Waterview.
Claude was not just a companion to him but a brother and a friend… someone who willingly put himself in the path of danger just to help him when he was in dire need. Tommy scanned the Waterview in front of them and then looked back at her with a certain glimmer in his eyes.
“So, here comes the best part,” Tommy snickered, eyes training on her. “To answer your question…”
If Tommy didn’t mention it, she wouldn’t have remembered. She had been too engrossed in his story that she forgot the question. Chuckling a bit as she scratched the tip of her nose with the back of her hand, she nodded playfully. “Finally…”
“From then on, we honored our pact with each other.”
Her eyebrows knitted. She didn’t know about the pact. Claude mentioned nothing of it to her. “What pact?”
He smacked his lips while staring at her. Without a warning, Tommy reached out for her hands, holding them both with his. Reena’s heartbeat paced, pounding so loudly in her chest, feeling like it was racing against her nerves. His hands were warm and they were comforting, and though it felt so strange, she didn’t draw away.
“We promised each other,” he said, lifting her hands and pressing them on his bosom. Reena held her breath, feeling his heart thumping in his chest, just like hers, in a rippling, soothing cadence. “No matter what happens, we will protect each other, and the ones… we love.”
Notes:
This is in reference to Keep Your Friends Close… (GTA Vice City).
Some of the dialogues used in the flashback in this chapter were fleshed out from the missions in an attempt to novelize the scenes. I do not take credit for any of these.
Thank you so much for reading! <3
Chapter 23: Changed Man
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Cleo. Art by stephydrawsart_ (Tumblr, Twitter, and Instagram).
REENA GENTLY PUSHED the pram into the yard with Mrs. Hubbard walking behind her. Staying in a hotel in San Fierro didn’t give her the opportunity to let the boy enjoy natural warmth, and now, on their first week of stay in Tommy’s estate, she didn’t let a day pass by without strolling every morning, relishing the morning sun with him and the old woman. They paced back and forth in the estate’s driveway, slowly but surely, as if chasing every ray of light shining through the property.
“Next time, it will be nice if we go to the beachside. You might meet new people there too.”
She smiled at the suggestion, though she wasn’t sure if she was ready to socialize with anyone just yet. “We’ll consider it, Mrs. Hubbard.”
Often, she wondered, wouldn’t it be nice to meet people? But now, she had no other priorities than making sure that her son was taken care of. Mrs. Hubbard was a big help. She knew a lot of things about babies that Reena didn’t know. The old woman told her how to swaddle properly, which diapers to use, or simply how to make him stop crying when he was getting out of control. What was more, when Cleo was already fast asleep, Mrs. Hubbard would offer her a massage, saying it was nice to have her muscles pressed once in a while.
Mrs. Hubbard reminded her of Mrs. Herrera a lot. Her insistence and passion to help her in everything were overflowing that she could not refuse. She had to thank Tommy for giving her a person like Mrs. Hubbard.
“You know, I noticed that Mr. Vercetti doesn’t eat breakfast, even the other boys.”
“Really?” she asked. “I’ve been getting up quite late these past few days. What does he have in the morning?”
Mrs. Hubbard leaned close to her ear. “I often see him drink.”
On Tommy’s desk in his office or the bar in the sitting room, there was always a bottle and a snifter. Whenever she and Cleo were around, Tommy never drank, but what Mrs. Hubbard said wasn’t impossible. She hadn’t even seen Tommy’s bedroom. Maybe, there were bottles and snifters there too.
Maybe, now that he had company, she could do something for him in the morning.
“Would you like me to make you a cup of tea?” the old woman asked, patting her shoulder. “I’ll bring it to you in the shed.”
Reena smiled. “Thank you. I’ll meet you there.”
“I won’t be long.”
In the company of the pots of plants that she and Mrs. Hubbard started planting when she arrived on the estate, Reena thought her day couldn’t be more perfect. She slowly pulled the stroller back and maneuvered, turning in the other direction of the Waterview when she passed by one of the garages with a black sedan inside.
“Must be Tommy’s new car,” she whispered to herself.
Savoring the rays of light before they got into the shed, she peered down at Cleo, finding the boy looking up at her. She smiled, the warmth in her chest spreading, seeing her son’s eyes trained on her as if he knew she was his mother.
“We’re going to our favorite spot, my angel…”
The shed’s door was an archway that could fit two people at the same time. Reena pushed Cleo’s stroller inside, settling him beside the bench and locking the brakes of the wheels so that the pram wouldn’t roll. She was about to grab the book she left on the bench the other day when she noticed a dress – not hers – lying on the bench’s armrest and a pair of high-heeled sandals, making her ponder.
“Does Tommy have a visitor?”
As her eyes scanned around the yard, somebody caught her attention from the pool’s side.
A woman in a two-piece suit with a wonderful, voluptuous body stretched her arms up and dove into the pool. The splash of the water was loud, but her paddling was even louder, splashing water all around the area as she reached the edge. The woman turned around, waving her legs and arms softly along with the water’s ripples. She plunged into the water, and for a moment, Reena admired her swimming skills. She swam like a mermaid, made perfectly for the sea, graciously moving along either on the surface or in the depths. When the woman rose from the water, she was dripping wet, and without a towel, she walked in the direction of the shed, causing Reena to stiffen in her seat.
What should I say?
There was no denying that the woman was gorgeous. She had long, flowing black hair that stuck on her wet skin, and the water from her head dripped down to the curves of her body, unashamed of being shown off. Reena was utterly perplexed, and she didn’t notice that she had dropped the book to the floor… and that the woman had already seen her.
“Who are you?”
Reena felt her heart jump when the woman spoke. She was unable to respond.
“I said, who are you?” she asked again, reaching for the dress on the bench’s armrest. Reena saw her look at the stroller, and perhaps, she’d seen Cleo while she retrieved her clothes. Although she was still wet, the woman put on the dress and flipped her damp hair over her shoulders, gathering the strands and wringing them together. The surprise on the woman’s face had not vanished.
Nervously, Reena found herself leaning down, picking up the book she dropped, and looking back up at the woman again, watching her scrutinizing stare. Somehow, she felt small as she’d never been in the presence of such a stunning woman before looking like a movie star. Flawless skin, round and luscious hips, slender legs, and even she, as a woman, could not resist looking at her perfect breasts!
She tried so hard to respond as words got blocked in her throat. “I-I’m Reena. Are you… does Tommy–”
“I think I know who you are…” the woman interrupted her, pointing a finger like she was able to recall who she was.
In return, somehow, Reena quite recognized her as well. She was that woman in Tommy’s birthday celebration last year… the one who clung to his arms! She was beautiful then, and damn, she was more beautiful now.
“Reena, how was your–” Tommy appeared out of nowhere wearing a big smile on his face that instantly faded as soon as he halted in his steps. “Mercedes?!”
The woman – Mercedes – continued to squeeze her hair, and once she seemed satisfied, she shook the strands and flipped them to her back again. “Aren’t you happy to see me?” she asked, looking at Tommy with a rather playful smile.
Reena glanced at Tommy nervously in an attempt to see the answer on his face, but it seemed like he wasn’t pleased at all. His eyes trained on Mercedes, and who wouldn’t have? Even she couldn’t turn her gaze away.
“Let’s go to the office, shall we?” He tipped his head in the direction of the mansion. However, instead of what Reena expected to see in his eyes while facing his girlfriend, she saw a rather baffling expression – he was annoyed.
Mercedes smiled at him and hummed. “I know you’d ask me to. Why not in your bedroom?”
“Office,” he sternly retorted.
Still surprised, Reena watched Tommy as he turned around and got inside. Albeit startled by his unwelcoming behavior, she faced Mercedes and smiled at her awkwardly. “It’s nice to meet you, Mercedes.”
The woman looked at her from head to toe and just smiled, though Reena couldn’t say if it was genuine or not. Without responding, Mercedes walked past the dumbfounded Mrs. Hubbard, who had just arrived carrying the tray of tea. The old woman’s glare followed Mercedes’s direction until she entered the mansion.
“Who’s that?” she asked, eyebrows knitted at the center. “And why’s she dripping wet?”
Reena put the book down, having not read anything yet. Somehow, she lost interest in doing so. “She’s Tommy’s girlfriend, Mrs. Hubbard,” she said, still peering over the old woman’s shoulder to the doorway. “You know, I think we should head back inside. In fact, to the kitchen.”
Mrs. Hubbard looked confused. “Why?”
Unlocking the brakes of Cleo’s stroller, she pulled back and pushed the carriage with a faint but certain smile. “Wouldn’t it be rude to have a guest without food?”
TOMMY OPENED THE doors to his office. He waited for Mercedes to come in. She was leaving trails of water droplets on the floor, and though it was not the first time she did that, he was feeling upset. He, for the love of god, could not believe that he’d forgotten about her, and he didn’t expect she’d just barge into the estate and apparently, swim in the pool. What was worse, Reena saw her, and the look on her face was inscribed in his mind – flustered and stunned.
As soon as she entered, he pulled the doors closed and walked toward his desk. “What are you doing here?”
She put a hand on her waist. “What’s the matter with you? Every time I go here, that’s what I do. What’s so wrong with that?” She sauntered toward him, putting her hands on his chest and looking up at him swelteringly. Tommy felt her clutch on his collar as she tugged him close for a kiss, but Tommy stopped midway. She tiptoed and pulled stronger so he drew himself backward.
“Mercedes, I… I don’t think you should still come here uninvited.”
It seemed like she was not listening. Mercedes began to unbutton his shirt, and after rolling his eyes, he grabbed her wrists.
“I mean it. Stop doing that.”
She looked up at him in disbelief. They never dated exclusively, and he enjoyed that set-up, free to have any partner he wanted. However, now with Reena around, he didn’t feel the same. He walked around the desk and sat on the chair behind the hardwood, taking the bottle of whiskey and pouring himself a drink. Draining the shot glass in an instant, Tommy felt the warmth spreading in his chest and stomach, it being the first thing he took in the morning.
Mercedes was left standing across from him, separated by the desk, and though it seemed like she wanted to approach him, she remained on her spot. With palpable disappointment, she sighed, pressing the heels of her palm on the surface. She peered at Tommy with a speculating gaze.
“Is she the one Ken’s talking about?”
Pinching the skin at the top of his nose, Tommy hissed. “You’re talking to Ken?!”
“You didn’t answer my question.”
Tommy lifted his eyes, glaring firmly. “Yeah. She is, and she’s living with me now.”
Mercedes stood there while pursing her lips looking at nowhere. Then, she sighed once again and walked toward the couch at the center, sitting all wet on the cushion. “Are you sure about this, Tommy, taking a woman and a child? It’s a commitment.”
Yes, he was very fucking sure. He thought about it for a long time, even distancing himself from Reena for a grueling month didn’t do anything to change his mind. Besides, aside from his promise to Claude, he had always wanted to be with her, regardless if she was carrying their child or not. Now that Reena was finally with him in Vice City, entrusting herself and her child into his care, Tommy wouldn’t blow that chance off… would he?
His non-response, perhaps, was enough of an answer. “Does this mean we can’t have fun anymore?”
Ah, yes, sex. She could have it with anyone she wanted. It didn’t have to be him. They had been doing it together for so long, but they did it with others as well. Things had drastically changed, and though it was hard for him to tell her the truth – that he’d lost interest in others, including her – he shook his head at Mercedes’s question.
“I’m sorry, Mercedes. I hope you understand.”
“What about Daddy?”
Colonel Juan Cortez expressed multiple times how much he was rooting for their relationship, calling him son, giving him endless gifts, and arranging business deals, among others. But since the start, he and Mercedes never admitted to being together, and as far as he knew, he never gave the man an assurance that they’d end up as the couple he wished them to be. Besides, did he know that his daughter didn’t like being in an exclusive relationship?
“He didn’t have to know.”
“I’m sure he will know,” Mercedes interjected, crossing her legs and leaning her back on the seat. “Gossip spreads like wildfire. You know that, don’t you?”
“I’m aware of that,” he responded quite sternly. “If he comes here and asks, I’ll tell him. You don’t have to worry about it.”
Tommy stood and went to the office window, looking forward to catching a glimpse of Reena, but she wasn’t there anymore. Whenever he was in his office in the morning, he’d see her with Cleo either reading a book or watering the pots of plants she and Mrs. Hubbard worked on. His mind drifted, and for a time he stood there motionless, imagining things he wished to come true.
“Well, it looks like you’re ready to be a father now,” Mercedes remarked with a gloomy voice as she stood, jolting Tommy a bit. He forgot she was still there. “And a husband too.”
The door opened and closed, and soon, Tommy was left alone in his own company. After exhaling a heavy breath, he went back to his desk and poured himself another shot of whiskey, the glass full.
All his friends… all the people that surrounded him knew that he and Mercedes had something special. Many of them thought, even his good friend Umberto, that they were an item. Tommy cared for her, that was for sure, but he didn’t and never saw himself settling with her or with anyone else...
…until now.
“Boss,” a hollow voice called out, breaking him from his musings. “We closed the account.”
Taking a swig from the shot glass that he slammed on the desk, he motioned to Marcus and Leigh as they walked toward him. “Good.”
Marcus placed the folder on his desk. He grabbed the pile of papers and browsed the ledger, seeing the thousands of dollars worth of payments getting deducted from his account since he went to San Andreas. He flipped from one page to another, discovering that the money lost in the unauthorized transactions amounted to almost three hundred grand.
“Damn, they fuckin’ got a lot.”
“We’ve got another problem,” Leigh interjected. “Two Cherry Popper drivers were murdered yesterday in the truck. The Spank they had was gone.”
Tommy felt his head throb. First, Mercedes. Second, the account. Third, the Spank. “What did Umberto say about it?”
“His men found the probable culprits. Seems like they’re investigating something in Prawn Island.”
“Any additional bad news you wanna tell me?” he jeered.
Marcus came forward and handed over a glittery invitation. The dust from the envelope spread on his desk, bursting into the air and tickling his nose. “Congressman Shrub sends his invite to the election party two weeks from now. He says he wants you to be there.”
Tommy squinted. “Why do I have to be there?”
Leigh cackled briefly. “He says you’re a good role model in his roster of allies, Boss. Young entrepreneur.” He motioned his hands like he was painting a rainbow in the air.
Sighing, Tommy mumbled, “I’m really back in Vice City…”
Tommy leaned on his swivel chair and rested his chin over his knuckles. One person knew all the details of his accounts before… the only person he mistakenly trusted, and now, he suspected that he was the same person stealing from his accounts. He had to transfer his money somewhere, and now, there was someone he knew would be able to take care of his money without her knowing it.
“Make an account for Serena Lane, then transfer all my money to her name.”
Marcus and Leigh looked at each other. “Miss Reena?”
“I think I made myself clear.”
“What about the Spank, Boss?”
“Tell Umberto I’m coming later.”
There was a soft thumping on his door, not loud enough to make him jump but enough to catch his attention. Slowly, one of the doors creaked open, and Reena peered from the gap.
“Have I disturbed you?” She smiled shyly. It seemed like she was looking for someone in the room as her eyes scanned from left to right.
In an instant, Tommy had forgotten what Marcus and Leigh were talking about. He found himself smiling, the complete opposite of how he was frowning earlier, and even Marcus and Leigh were unmistakably surprised by the sudden change in his expression. What could he do? Whenever she was there, there was no angry Tommy Vercetti.
“N-No, of course you don’t,” he beamed as he stood, waving his hand at Marcus and Leigh. “We’re just having a chat,” he chuckled, and he saw Leigh look at him nervously. “Do you need anything?”
Reena slowly stepped in, holding her hands together and playing with her fingers. “Has… Mercedes left?”
“Yeah, she did,” Tommy affirmed, thankful that his uninvited visitor had departed. He went around the desk and inched closer to her. “What’s wrong?”
“Can you come down to the kitchen with me?”
Tommy couldn’t remember when was the last time he’d been invited by someone to go to the kitchen. Not that it didn’t happen ever, but he was so used to getting invited somewhere else by a woman. As curiosity crept in, he nodded softly, but deep inside, he was desperate to know what was there for him to see. Reena held out her hand, and for a moment, Tommy wondered what he should do. Grab it? Should I grab–
“Boss, grab the hand now.”
He couldn’t help but turn around in an instant and snarl at Marcus who seemed to find pleasure in encouraging him. It was just a whisper, and he was sure Marcus intended that only he would hear it, but what if Reena did? What if she –
Tommy felt her soft, warm palm enfolding his hard, calloused hand. When he lifted his eyes, he saw her smiling at him widely, excitedly, as if she was wishing he’d accept her invitation. Soon, he found himself following her steps, grasping her hand while her arm stretched, back facing him, yet, ever so beautiful. She turned around briefly, her hair bouncing over her shoulders like cotton in spring, flowing gently at her spine.
“Marcus and Leigh too…”
The two men were astonished at the mention of their names. They didn’t flinch from their positions. They were so used to staying in their spots unless he told them to move or to follow. Besides, nobody else invited them anywhere but Reena, and he knew it was foreign to them because it was also freaking foreign to him. Alarmed by their stillness, Tommy tilted his head in Reena’s direction while glowering at the two, urging them to follow as well.
As they neared the kitchen, Tommy could smell a different kind of scent… like the ones he’d smell in Umberto’s diner whenever he dropped by in the wee hours of the morning. He remembered the time when he came to the suite in Ocean View Hotel and he was taken aback by a wonderful fragrance that made his stomach growl. It was the same sensation. It was the same excitement.
On the island lay beautifully fried eggs and bacon toasted to perfection. The grease that covered the dish glistened at the sides of the plate, adding to its allure to an empty stomach in the morning. There was also a sliced loaf of bread at the center beside a jar of peanut butter and jam. Reena let go of his hand, much to his dismay, and she went to the counter to grab the steaming kettle from the stove, pouring slowly the hot water into the cups on the counter. The aroma of black coffee exploded in the air, the scent overwhelming Tommy’s senses.
Mrs. Hubbard distributed plates to them, snapping Tommy out of his trance.
“We thought of preparing breakfast for you and Mercedes. It’s a shame she’d left. We’ve prepared a lot, so, help yourselves?”
Marcus and Leigh looked at each other, visibly reluctant, but when Tommy jerked a nod at them, the two immediately grabbed food for themselves.
“Thank you, Miss Reena,” Leigh said as he took an egg and bacon. “Boss doesn’t like us cooking–”
Tommy kicked Leigh’s leg underneath the island, halting him from what he was saying. The man seemed to understand the threat, resorting to filling his mouth with a whole egg. “It’s because you’re messy and you leave my kitchen filthy,” he grumbled as he lifted the cup of coffee to his lips, sipping the hot drink gently. “Oh, perfect.”
“I learned that you just drink whiskey for breakfast. Is that true?” Reena asked as she spread jam on a slice of bread while peering at him.
“Yes, miss, it’s–”
His cheeks burned as he kicked Marcus underneath the table. The henchman curled his lips. When Marcus saw him glaring, his lips uncurled and he posed like the stiff man he was.
“Well, from now on, we’ll be making breakfast enough for all of you here in the estate. No more whiskey in the morning. Is that okay?”
Breakfast… for me? Goddamn.
“Boss likes breakfast, Miss Reena,” Marcus interjected with a playful tone in his voice. “He just didn’t have someone to share it with.”
A snarl wasn’t enough. He’d be beating the shit out of Marcus later.
Reena giggled, and fuck, he wanted to beg her to stop or he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from pulling her close, and only the gods knew what he would do. “If you have time, maybe we can go shopping for groceries next week?” She pressed a slice with peanut butter and another with jam together, then handed it over to him.
Tommy felt someone nudge his leg, and with Leigh beside him, he ascertained that he’d suffer the same fate as Marcus later.
Smiling widely from ear to ear, Tommy accepted the sandwich and bit from it. He never knew that that combination could taste that great. “Of course, we’ll go out next week.”
His mornings, from now on, could never be less perfect with Reena every single day, and he wouldn’t let this opportunity pass.
But he had to take care of the damn thieves first.
Notes:
Thank you so much!
Chapter 24: Ambush the Deal
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
CAFÉ ROBINA WAS in the heart of Little Havana, the ever-busy district of booming businesses and enterprises in Vice City Mainland. Compared to the islets between the two major landmasses of the metropolis, the Mainland districts were more crowded and diverse. Years ago, refugees fled to the island, including Cubans and Haitians, and the district that served as their home became the epicenter of territorial dispute, at least, by the time Tommy came. Now, no more Haitian gangs lingered in Little Havana, no more gang wars, no more witch and her mind-altering drugs…
…or so he thought.
It took all his strength to drag himself out of the estate knowing that someone he wanted to be there was there. Before he left, he peered into the nursery and saw Reena swaying Cleo to sleep. He thought of calling her, but instead, he just watched her for a few seconds before he left.
An unexpected light pouring began as Tommy got out of his car. The sign OPEN flickered from the outside with only one light bulb busted out. He casually pushed the fiberglass door and welcomed himself inside. The long counter and menu stand on the left side with red barstools and at least ten table stalls on the right separated by cheap blocks of plywood were bereft of customers. The far end remained unlit, darkened even more by the brown and red interior paint that accentuated the café’s emptiness. He walked toward the counter near the kitchen door and settled himself on one of the seats.
A smile gradually found its way to his lips as he recalled the night when he came here and found Reena. That night was special to him. It was she who called him and sought his support… his comfort. All he wanted was to be there for her, and the night took a sharp turn when he wasn’t able to stop himself from kissing her–
Stop thinking about that, goddamn it.
Several minutes passed, but his friend hadn’t come out yet. Tommy drummed his fingers on the counter, making little beating sounds akin to the ticking of the huge wall clock hanging above him. A man came out of the kitchen and approached while wiping his hands with a towel.
“¿Qué necesitas?” the Cuban asked without lifting his eyes.
“Yo necesito ver Umberto,” Tommy answered insouciantly. “How are you, Pepe?”
The Cuban’s face suddenly lit up as he seemed to realize who he was. Grinning from ear to ear, Pepe offered his hand for a firm shake, which Tommy accepted with enthusiasm.
“Tommy! Haven’t seen you for some time! Heard you got a woman at home?”
He flushed and snickered. “Yes, I do. But she’s just–”
“Ah! No need to explain, amigo! I’m gonna get you the boss right away!”
Pepe gestured with fingers like a gun and entered the kitchen door. The faint sound of the radio played in the café, the static noise louder than the music. Drizzles turned to heavier drops of rain, and the ambiance outside the café became gloomier. He wondered if there was a hurricane. It had been some time since Tommy saw this weather over Vice City.
“Tommy!” Umberto came out of the kitchen in his white top and black trousers. Behind him followed Pepe. Tommy grinned when Pepe placed the cup of black coffee over a saucer in front of him, ascertaining that the man knew what he always ordered in the café.
“Any updates?” He peered over the cup that he slowly put close into his mouth, his vision quite obscured by the evaporating steam.
The Cuban sat on the stool beside him. “Yes, amigo. Rico told me all about it,” Umberto said, seemingly half-hearted. “They have a load of product coming in offshore. They said it was really good stuff. We think it was your Spank…”
“Is Rico sure this would be now?”
Umberto nodded disappointedly. “Si, amigo, on the edge of Prawn Island.”
Tommy nodded. Being away from Vice City literally paved the way for his competitors to start shitting on him. The package that the Cherry Popper truck drivers were supposed to deliver to the dealers in Washington Mall got stolen, and Umberto’s leads showed the Haitian’s involvement in the theft.
As much as it was difficult for him to leave Reena and Cleo in the estate, at least, they were safe there with his mobsters. He thought of bringing Marcus and Leigh, but he needed them to stay well for Reena and Cleo.
“So, how’s your new housemate, amigo?” Umberto peered over him with a snide smile. “Or she your girlfriend now? When will I meet her?”
He felt his face burn in shame. “You already did.”
Umberto thought for a moment. “I don’t remember a chica except for Mer–” he paused, eyes gaping wide. “Don’t tell me… It’s the crying girl you got here in the café before–”
“Yeah, yeah, that’s her…” Tommy said, trying to stop Umberto from teasing him.
“Hah! I knew it! Did you make love–”
“Oh, come on!” he protested, then drained the cup of coffee despite the hot temperature and stood while buttoning his suit. He drew a dollar from his pocket and slid it on the counter. “Let’s go to the venue now, shall we?”
“You didn’t answer my question!” Umberto yelled while cackling.
Tommy still didn’t. Instead, he just walked toward the door. “I’m taking my time,” he muttered under his breath.
The Downtown nightlights were already twinkling when he and Umberto reached Viceport. At the edge of the harbor, a Jetmax waved gently on the dark water’s surface. Although the docks were desolated, the lampposts provided a dim glow that somehow illuminated the waters. A Cuban wearing a red bandanna stood near the berth, calmly lingering, and as soon as Tommy and Umberto approached, the man welcomed them in delight.
“Boss!” Rico saluted snappily, then he turned to face Tommy. “Hey, amigo! ¿Cómo es tu vida?”
Reaching out his hand, Tommy grabbed Rico’s for a shake. “Muy bien, Rico. Muy feliz,” he proudly claimed as he pointed at the vessel. “Nice boat! That’s yours?”
“Si!” Rico seemed pleased by the compliment. “Now, you be a good shot today! My boat, she no good full of holes, okay?”
Tommy puckered his lips as he nodded slowly. Rico untangled the ropes that held the vessel to the berth while he and Umberto boarded in the Jetmax. Only the faint sound of the splashing waters from the near-empty mooring could be heard, while the distant blaring of freighter trucks and ships boomed at the heart of the port. Rico hastily went aboard as well and twisted the key to start the engine. Tommy settled himself in the cockpit, laying the guns that he and Umberto had brought. He gave one to the Cuban leader and the other to Rico, loading his own assault rifle with a belt of bullets that he’d sashed across his torso.
“So, the deal gonna happen in the back of Mendez casa grande,” Rico said as the vessel moved forward, the slight acceleration causing the water to slap against the hull. The surface was a bit wavy due to the light rain a few hours ago, and the air seemed more frigid than usual. It was seldom like this in Vice City as far as Tommy knew.
He and Umberto looked at each other fortuitously, giving each other a firm nod, then Tommy tugged his gaze upon the bleak horizon, looking in the direction of Starfish Island, opposite to where they were heading. Despite the darkness, it looked like a beacon of light in the middle of nowhere. The bright glow coming from the opulent mansions that lined up the edges of the landmass flickered like stars on the ground, its affluence and sophistication were overwhelming the other lights that came from the other islands, proof of its superiority over the others.
Turning his head back, Tommy saw the contrary. He could see from their location the faint dock lights where the deal was going to take place. Holding tightly the grip of the rifle, Tommy prepared himself for the battle.
“My boys said the juju’s now stronger.” Umberto looked at him sternly. “Tienen una nueva fábrica. We’re still looking for it.”
“I just went away for a few months and these cockroaches crawled back immediately.”
“Don’t you wonder,” Umberto asked, “where they got the money? The gang’s poor as shit!”
Tommy shook his head. “I don’t have an idea.”
“Hey,” Rico’s voice caught both of their attention. “We’re almost there.”
The speedboat’s hull crashed along the rippling waves on the surface, and the wind blowing against their direction was making it a little more difficult to traverse the channel. Once again, drizzles fell on their skin like specs of dust disintegrating in the air, a gist of chill and doom and uncertainty.
“There they are!” Umberto cried in a whisper, pointing at the gathering.
At the docks, however, were a couple of Dingheys floating, and groups of Haitians and men in black suits were exchanging packages. Upon seeing them, especially the latter, Tommy couldn’t help but curse under his breath.
“Who are those bastards?!” Umberto asked, seemingly realizing that Tommy knew who they were.
“These assholes are fucking hard-headed,” he grumbled. “Salvatore Leone should come out of his grave…”
Swiftly, Tommy lifted the assault rifle and held it between his arm and body, shooting at the men standing in the berth. Umberto also commenced his attack while Rico steered closer to the docks. The enemies fired back, and though they looked surprised, they seemed prepared. Bullets hit and ricocheted in the wooden shed, exploding splinters of wet timber in the air. Bodies thudding on the ground and screams from dying men roaring in the void were rather drowned by the ear-shattering pellets and explosions. Tommy’s knurled grip secured around the handle of the rifle, the trigger sticking into the hardened pad of his finger that he hadn’t lifted even just for a millisecond.
A bullet clanked near Tommy’s spot, forcing him to dodge in an instant.
Tommy kept his head down below the gunwale, but another bullet crashed near his head, and more than the strident blast and burst pieces of wood, the fact it almost took him down shook him to the core.
“Turn the fuckin’ boat around!” Umberto ordered, trying to shield Tommy from the snipers.
“I can’t boss! It’s… It’s hard!”
Another hit sniped near him, and reaching the end of his wit, Tommy had no choice but to keep himself ducked. Exasperated, he narrowly peered and scaled the distance of the boat from the platform, estimating how far he had to cross.
“Cover me!”
Like a bolt, he leaped from his position toward the wooden board, landing on the ground where the dead men were. He crouched again to avoid the blasts coming from the abandoned mansion, hiding himself behind the wooden shed.
“Amigo!” Umberto exclaimed. “Wait for us! Don’t charge!”
Tommy reached out for the package that had fallen on the floor, dragging the suitcase toward his side while avoiding the shots that were fired in his direction. A shot grazed his wrist, urging him to draw his hand and grunt in pain. Using the tip of the rifle, Tommy reached out for the suitcase’s handle and yanked it across the wooden floor as his hand bled. While Umberto and Rico continuously fired, he opened the suitcase.
It wasn’t Spank. The fine, white powder he expected to see was non-existent. Instead, he saw strips of green materials that smelled familiar, hurting his senses in a swipe. Realizing what it was, he glared at the two, unable to stop the surge of memory within.
“These are fucking jujus!”
Rico harbored closer to the mooring, letting Umberto alight from the boat and join Tommy. The Cuban leader crouched on his stomach on the other side of the shed, peering sharply at the mansion. “Three to four cabrons. Ready?”
Tommy ignored the sting in his wrist, gripping the barrel tightly. “Come on!”
He stood and charged forward with Umberto beside him, firing the weapons at the remaining Haitians on the property. Tommy advanced on the cemented ground and ran over the grassy hill backyard toward the mansion’s back porch. Umberto chased behind him as well, shooting a Haitian that appeared on the left side.
As they reached the terrace, they found a Haitian bleeding on the ground holding another package. Tommy quickly snatched and opened it, only to be frustrated once again. Another set of jujus. This exchange was not for Spank. Umberto came upon him and bent down, clutching the bleeding man’s collar and shaking him vigorously.
“Donde esta el drogas?!”
Rico had caught up with them, shaking his head. “Lo siento, no mas maletas. I got the suitcases of money though…”
Failed. Tommy stood and grabbed fistfuls of his hair as crimson fell from his wound down to his head. His wrist stung, and damn, he was dizzy, but the mere fact that they’d risked their lives only to find nothing of what they were looking for aggravated him the most. He needed to know where these bastards brought his merchandise.
The Haitian choked blood as Umberto dragged him and pushed him into the wall. “Where’s the fucking Spank?” he cried, almost smashing the man’s head on the concrete.
Tommy aimed the rifle at the Haitian, seeing the instant dread that flashed in his eyes. “Answer him.”
“F-factory…” the Haitian grimaced and coughed blood from his mouth. “Little Haiti…”
Placing his finger on the trigger, Tommy considered shooting him in the face. He was already about to pull the trigger, when, suddenly, the urge to put the weapon down overcame him. After a moment, he lowered his arms, letting the weapon hang loose on his side.
“Aren’t you gonna kill him, Tommy?!” Umberto asked as he let go of the Haitian’s collar.
Without answering his question, Tommy turned around and seized Rico’s bandanna. He wrapped it around his bleeding wrist tightly. He walked back toward the wooden shed, seeing the Jetmax riddled with bullets. Sighing heavily, Tommy helped himself into the vessel, followed by a seemingly reluctant Umberto and Rico. He sat on the cockpit, tossed the rifle to the floor, and held his injured wrist with his free hand. The pain was crawling under his skin, through his bones, and nerves, and being, and his eyes raked all the dead bodies on the property, determined to go to their next destination.
“Let’s go back to the café,” he said. “We have to find that fucking factory.”
Notes:
This is in reference to Naval Engagement (GTA Vice City).
Some of the dialogues used in this chapter were fleshed out from the missions in an attempt to novelize the scenes. I do not take credit for any of these.
P.S. To the guest who keeps on leaving me kudos almost weekly, thank you. You don't know how much it means to me.
Chapter 25: Total Demolition
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
TOMMY GLANCED AT the huge wall clock hanging above him. A minute ‘til twelve.
Little Havana was a bit busy, the blaring horns of cars driven by impatient drivers boomed from the outside, and the occasional encounters of people cursing and fighting by arms would serve as a spectacle to the customers in the café under the dazzling rays of the noon sun. Instead of going home to the estate, Tommy stayed in the café where he got treated for his wounds, settling himself on the craggy couch in Umberto’s office in the back kitchen.
He didn’t want to go home in his condition. Damn. Picking up his phone, he quickly dialed Marcus.
“Good to hear from you, Boss!” Marcus greeted him as soon as he answered the phone.
“How are they?”
“They’re doin’ well. Miss Reena’s looking for you. She asked why you didn’t come home last night.”
His chest warmed. Three bullet shots grazed his forearms with minimal cuts and his left wrist was wrapped tightly in gauze. Despite all these, his swelling heart overwhelmed his senses.
“Tell her I’ll be home tonight.”
“Don’t you wanna call her, Boss?”
Marcus was doing it again. The teasing. And fuck, he couldn’t stop himself from feeling teased. The warmth in his chest crawled down to his stomach, making it churn. He could feel his face burning in chagrin. Like a high school boy.
“Just tell her I called. I’ll contact you if I need a driver.”
The Cubans had been surveilling Little Haiti, and from what he’d heard, they’d already found the factory. He was rather frustrated at himself, knowing that it was his negligence that allowed these people to come back to Vice City. Yet, he couldn’t blame himself either for having missed a lot. He didn’t regret paying more attention to Reena and Cleo than anyone or anything else. He didn’t really mind about the lost Spank. For all he cared, they could steal as much as they wanted. What irked him was the fact that someone was trying to scale him up. Again.
Haitians never learned their lesson.
Rico’s reliever gave him a cup of Americano, taking him out of his musings. It smelled strong, just like how he wanted it, but it didn’t smell as good as the coffee Reena made him yesterday morning. He pulled the cup close to his mouth, blowing gently to let the steam off. A couple of women sat at his left and gazed at him provocatively. He couldn’t care less.
When the hand struck twelve, Umberto came rushing out of the kitchen with Rico, looking as if he’d just done some shit. This self-proclaimed man of passion confidently approached the two women beside him. “Hey, ladies. You know what I’m gonna do?”
They looked at him quite entertained, surprised by his unsolicited calling.
“I’m going to make love like a man! You know what, chica? Something like this!” Umberto started growling and moving his hips like he was thrusting into someone else, standing between the seats of the two ladies whose faces quickly became disgusted.
Even Tommy didn’t expect he’d be doing that. As he watched Umberto amusingly, one of the women snagged his cup of piping hot Americano, much to his surprise, and spilled it at Umberto’s crotch.
“Hey!”
“Loser!”
Tommy didn’t know which of the two women yelled, but they stood and walked out of the café while whispering curses. Umberto started patting his pants, even snatching the towel that hung over the attendant’s shoulder and wiping it over his trousers, seemingly trying to ease himself from both the scorching pain and humiliation. As the chimes of the cafe’s door jingled, he bellowed, “I wouldn’t touch you with a ten-foot pole!”
Though quite bothered, Tommy could do nothing but cackle at his seat while he motioned at the attendant to give him another cup of coffee. Watching Umberto do idiotic things was fun, and frankly? He deserved it.
But the Cuban wasn’t done with his bickering. He dashed toward the door and peeked outside. “Umberto Robina, he likes ladies! Not some goats in a skirt!” he hollered at the top of his lungs.
Before, Tommy cared not about whatever Umberto or the men he knew said or did around women. Even he himself fooled around more often than not. Endless catcalling and fornication, misogyny and perversion, he’d just turn a blind eye. But when Reena came, he became more circumspect, more reverent, and more gentle. How could he be the same cheeky bastard he was in her presence?
“Amigo,” Tommy called out as he blew into the hot coffee. “Calm down. Let the ladies go.”
Umberto turned around and went to him, grabbing him by the shoulders and shaking him vigorously. He thought he was going to say more stupid things. “Tommy! I love you, I love you! Let’s go!”
What a madman. He couldn’t be more right.
Coffee spilled from the cup’s mouth as Umberto waved him carelessly. “Can’t I get a cup of coffee first–”
“No time for coffee! Besides, I just had one!” After showing his damp pants to everyone in the café, Umberto’s hold tightened. “How do you take out a snake?!”
Tommy’s browns creased while he contemplated the question. “You bite them in the ass?” he speculated.
“Exactly!” Umberto’s laughter roared, making Tommy a little perplexed that his answer was in fact correct. The Cuban pulled him close and leaned to his ear. “We’ll need a Voodoo car!”
“That’s an easy fix…”
“When you get it, pick up my boy Pepe…”
“Alright–”
“…and take him out to such and such… to their processing plant! Pepe had the solvents!”
So, they’d be entering the factory pretending to be Haitians in a Voodoo car? That was quite neat, except that the factory was probably riddled with those bastards, and as much as their way in was easy, their way out would be a lot more convoluted. However, determined not to waste another day without putting the Haitians into their rightful places, Tommy gathered his things and stood from his seat. He attempted to sip from the cup for the last time but decided against it anyway. Before he and Rico went out of the café, he looked back at Umberto with a frown.
“Aren’t you coming with us?”
“Eh,” Umberto chuckled, hastily marching back into the kitchen. “I’m busy! I got other things to do!”
Classic. Tommy thought he should’ve been thankful that Umberto came with them last night because for years they had been working together, and the Cuban leader never did come in ventures that would be dangerous in the first place. Clever, undeniably, but such a cheater.
“Whatever you say, Umberto,” Tommy said as he turned around and motioned at Rico to follow him.
In Sunshine Autos, Tommy made sure to have all the kinds of cars in Vice City. Brand new models, vintage classics, and even a private set of vehicles exclusive to gangs that he gathered himself years ago. His collection was located in the underground garage secured by passcodes that only he, Marcus, and Leigh knew. After unlocking the gates, Rico’s eyes glistened in amazement as throngs of four-wheeled cars welcomed them, all in excellent condition. The Voodoo car, in particular, was massive and daunting. The red paint shone under the bright lights of the garage, circular headlights flickering as the vehicle was unlocked, and the windscreen that reached the roof of the car accentuated its unique physique compared to the other muscle cars in the underground depot.
“Oye, let’s go find our muchachos!” Rico exclaimed in such a jolly tone as if they had nothing to worry about while he jumped in the passenger seat.
Tommy sat behind the wheel, taking control of their direction as he wanted to observe things more closely. From the showroom, they left in the vehicle and drove across Little Havana, passing by several establishments preoccupied with their own businesses during the day. Toward Little Haiti, they traveled, and while they passed by a neighborhood of duplexes, all of a sudden, Rico dropped another comment.
“Man, this is a nice part of town…”
Wondering if he was just speaking random things out of nervousness about where they were headed, Tommy resolved to just focus on the road. He was barely pulling himself together; his limbs were still in pain and his wrist was too rigid to move. It hadn’t been a day since they encountered risk, and now, they were aiming toward it again.
Not in the mood to talk. Not with Rico.
As soon as they got to Little Haiti, passing the gang’s old neighborhood that now stood empty, Rico opened his mouth again. “This place is a dump man…”
“I know…”
Tommy wished Rico would just stop, but just before they got to the meeting place where Pepe was already waiting, the pizza stand that they crossed was not able to dodge yet another statement. “You know, they do nice pizzas here–”
Gallingly, Tommy took a sharp turn, drifting the car to its right and skidding on the road. The car almost flipped to the side, angling awkwardly when Tommy veered out of the blue, sure enough to instill fear in Rico.
“Woah, man! You drive like a crazy bitch!”
The brake pedal almost broke when Tommy floored on it so hard that they parked gracelessly beside the two Voodoo cars.
“Hola, amigos!” Pepe greeted enthusiastically from the other car, but it seemed like his enthusiasm quickly faded when he appeared to notice Tommy’s piercing glare and Rico’s shocked face.
“Oy, the solvent’s around the back,” noted another from the third car.
While Tommy went to the trunk to get the solvent, Pepe got out of the vehicle and gave him a vest. “Put this on, eh we don’t wanna die.”
Tommy quickly followed. He slid himself into the suit and strapped it on his side as tightly as he could. The rough edges of the vest brushed against his skin, and as he tugged the final lock, he felt his lungs constrict. He went back to the car, twisted the key, and followed Pepe’s lead as their fleet drove toward the destination.
Anxiety plagued his chest. In the past, whenever he needed to confront his enemies this way, he never felt the same fear he had right now, not even with Sonny Forelli. The risk was just the same; it might cost him his life, but why did it feel like he was too scared compared to before? Had he gotten weaker? Rusted? Alienated from these kinds of dangers? Tommy questioned himself, and as he doubted his confidence, he realized why things felt so different.
He had them. If something happened to him, what would have come of Reena? Cleo? Now, he realized why he didn’t plan on settling down before. It was a responsibility he had to keep on playing, a promise that he’d always survive and live and go back home, an obligation to stay alive, body parts complete and sanity intact until old age wore him down.
Reena couldn’t be alone again, and Cleo couldn’t be fatherless.
“Here we are…” Rico whispered, his voice softer compared to how loquacious he was several minutes ago, and Tommy was somehow pleased that he’d learned.
Between the buildings of Beach Scooter Rentals and Rough n’ Ready Streetwear was a narrow passage that the other two cars went into. Turning right to follow the vehicles, Tommy saw a steel gate that led to huge buildings at the back. The exterior paint was fading, and molds that crawled like decaying veins on the side were crippling the concrete. He could only see the top of the structure; holes on the second floor devoid of glass panes, windowsills and frames rusted toward self-destruction, and though he was inside the car, he could smell the potent stench coming from its exhaust, thick blankets of white smoke rising from the chimney penetrated every gap of the car.
It was the factory.
“They’re still fucking operating…” he thought aloud.
One by one, each car was inspected, but the Haitians at the gates were seemingly too lenient. They had to stay inside quietly to avoid being questioned, and from the tinted windscreen, Tommy watched as one of the guards waved a hand to let them in. Once the steel gates slid open, the cars drove, and he followed through. Tommy observed his surroundings keenly as he parked on the spot beside the factory’s entrance.
“Okay,” Rico muttered as he prepared the Uzis. “You plant the bomb, we’re going to cover you. Pepe’s going to look for the Spank.”
Grabbing the solvents encased in black boxes with a timer, Tommy nodded firmly. “Let’s go!”
Tommy opened the car door along with the Cubans in the other Voodoo cars, and in a swift motion, they started surrounding him as he, Rico, and Pepe ran toward the factory with the bombs. The Cubans began shooting the Haitians on the ground, killing first the ones standing by the gates and the roaming ones next, fully protecting Tommy from probable assault.
“Pepe, how long do these bombs take to explode?!”
“Cinco minutos, muchacho!”
“Just fucking five minutes?!”
Several Haitians appeared at the base of the factory. With shots relentlessly blasted at them, Tommy, Rico, and Pepe dodged to the ground, rolling on the floor until they hid behind steel frames near the doorway. Tommy cocked the Uzi, snapping in the magazine in a sharp clap, then peered from the frame and fired a shot. Rico and Pepe followed suit, sniping as many times as they could, taking out one Haitian at a time. Clouds of smoke and flints riddled the air, and jagged popping sounds sparked amid the dust. More Cubans came and fired at the entrance, shooting down more of the enemies, and securing their passage into the factory.
Tommy tucked the Uzi back into his belt, grabbed the solvent, and dashed forward with Rico and Pepe close behind. Running quickly toward the corner, Tommy placed the first set of explosives and set the trigger on a pipeline connecting the ground floor to the second-floor balcony. Pepe ran toward the other side, shooting everyone in his way, while he and Rico dashed toward the back.
As they neared the eroding steel door chained in bolts and huge padlocks, a Haitian appeared, holding a bolo, and in an instant, the blade was wielded against Tommy’s face, prompting him to bend backward to avoid the certain slash. The Haitian raised the bolo and ripped for another time, toward Tommy’s chest which he barely avoided. In a swift motion, he elbowed the man’s jaw, seemingly taking him out of focus, then he grabbed the crook of his arm and nudged his elbow against his side, pushing his wrist backward so forcefully that he was certain he’d broken the man’s fingers. The Haitian shrieked in pain, and gripping his scruff, Tommy kneed the man’s face twice until he fell to the floor with a bleeding head and nose.
Rico shot the bolts until they snapped, breaking the chains into two. In the office, Tommy planted the second bomb, and with Rico, they scoured the desks and drawers for the Spank but to no avail. After setting the trigger, they left the office and headed for the stairs to place the last explosives, when suddenly, a group of Haitians appeared along the way. Tommy and Rico ran behind the steel steps and railings that barely concealed them from the shots. A bullet clanked against the rod and slid to Tommy’s shoulder, hitting him near the temple. He cursed, and knowing that hiding was useless, he dropped on his left knee, gripped the Uzi firmly, and blasted back at the Haitians.
“We have to hurry!” Tommy exclaimed as he haphazardly darted up the stairs.
Just as when he thought their way was cleared, a Haitian stood above him about three steps ahead, holding a pistol directly aimed at his chest. It was just for a millisecond, but Tommy knew it was too late to make any move.
Fuck.
“Tommy!”
The blows to his chest threw him off the stairs, his back crashing on the concrete pavement. The Haitian stepped down and pulled the trigger once more, but the gun just clicked. He attempted to reload the gun, aiming to shoot him again, but Rico appeared just in time and shot the enemy in the head. As soon as the Haitian’s body rolled down the steel steps, Rico went to Tommy, tugged his limp arm, and draped it over his shoulders, helping him climb up the stairs and dragging him toward the windows. With faltering legs, Tommy slowly collapsed to the floor.
“Come on, muchacho! Stay awake!” Rico leaned him against the wall as he took the solvent bomb from his belt.
Pain punctured his chest, perhaps, a broken rib or two, or a very bad wound beneath the vest. The two consecutive shots were up close, too fucking close, the bullets directly hitting the spot over his heart. A seal of death. Tommy tasted blood in his mouth, the metallic stench offended his tongue and choked his gorge. The shots… that must be it, causing him to cough blood from the decapacitating blow…
“Vercetti!” Rico shouted at his face, feeling the faint spray of the Cuban’s saliva, but stars that didn’t glow brightly shrouded his vision, twirling in madness right on his face, laced with unmistakable fuzziness as the air he gasped for couldn’t get through his throat no matter how hard he tried to breathe.
Reena...
There was a quake from beneath the floor. An explosion? Smoke. Fire. Torturous reek. Then, darkness…
~~~~~~~~~~
A hard smack on his face. The huge, thick, calloused palm shook Tommy out of unconsciousness. His eyes blinked as he felt the itch on his nose, the ashes and dust of the insurmountable debris coming from the burning building irritated his throat. He coughed, holding up his neck and choking on the floor as his eyes stung so bad that they teared up. The air was too dense with unbreathable air, and he didn’t know if he could still last.
With his shirt fully covered in dirt, Tommy couldn’t use the sleeves to wipe his sullied face. Struggling, he looked up, eyes gradually adjusting from the haze, then he found Rico, and soon, he saw Pepe and the others they were with when they entered the factory. Upon opening his eyes fully, Rico laughed victoriously, tapping Tommy’s shoulder with vigor, celebrating and hugging his fellows. Tommy looked at them bewildered; he couldn’t remember what happened.
The building was burning. They were surrounded by fire. How did they come out?
“What the fuck, Rico?” he yelled, unsure of what question to ask.
Pepe crouched and leveled with him on the floor. The Cuban brought out packs of white powder, which, much to Tommy’s surprise, he recognized to be his merchandise.
“We got these from the machine!” Pepe handed them to him and stood. “And we took them down! Thought you were dead, muchacho!”
“Dead?!” he asked aloud.
“We pulled you out through the window. I carried you on the roof, amigo!” Rico patted Tommy’s chest, the dull pain striking faintly at the heavy touch of the Cuban’s hand. He grunted, unable to stop the grimace from forming on his face. He shoved Rico’s hand away, and the Cuban cackled. “See?! Right there! Good thing you got your vest!”
“Did I… just faint?”
“Impact was bad muchacho, the Haitian shot you twice! Close call! Vives, diablo!”
Tommy looked down at his body and saw that his shirt, apart from being soiled, had holes in the middle. He brushed his hand over the spot, feeling the burnt ends of the cloth that was apparently penetrated by the bullets. Quickly, he tore the shirt from his body and took off the vest that covered his torso, revealing the injury on his chest.
Two round reddish and purple-blackish spots, tender, but not deep.
His body craved rest, so Tommy splayed his arms on his side and lay on the floor. He closed his eyes, and in his thoughts, he recalled that very moment he thought he was already going to die.
Reena...
“Hey, it’s good you’re back,” Rico said while nudging him on the arm. “But we gotta go. VCPD would come anytime. Hear that siren, hm?”
Tommy took another deep breath that felt like a struggle, and as he exhaled the grubby air from his lungs, he clutched Rico’s hand and pulled himself up. “Thank you, Rico,” he mumbled, somehow regretting judging him in the car, not knowing that the very person he was so annoyed with early on would be the one to save him from imminent danger.
“Eh, amigo. You no different. Tu eres un hermano!”
With a smirk on his face, Tommy picked up the shirt and vest he’d just taken off and walked side by side with the Cubans as they left the Haitian’s compound…
Notes:
This is in reference to Trojan Voodoo (GTA Vice City).
Some of the dialogues used in this chapter were fleshed out from the missions in an attempt to novelize the scenes. I do not take credit for any of these.
Thank you so much!
Chapter 26: Juju Woman
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
JOEY TAPPED THE tip of a pen on the desk’s surface as he waited for their guest. He just finished chewing the strip of candy that Ken Rosenberg gave him for a taste test. For him, it didn’t taste exceptional. Just mint with a bit of sourness. He wiped a tissue paper on his mouth and tossed the crumpled rubbish toward a bin at the side. It rolled to the floor instead.
To his left sat the lawyer spreading his paraphernalia on the table, looking excited to devour the cocaine he’d just bought. When the lawyer noticed that he was staring, Ken awkwardly arranged the items while pursing his lips. The Don could feel how hungry he was to start snorting, but he had to keep the lawyer focused.
The lawyer, despite being a crackhead, was, well… interesting to say the least. Years of working for Tommy Vercetti made him a valuable key to the enemies. When Joey Leone returned from San Andreas with a busted hand, he knew he had to call Ken Rosenberg immediately. He would need his help. He would need his knowledge. He would need his skills.
Toni Cipriani was out of the equation now.
Watching the hands of the clock on the wall tick by, Joey’s eyes fell on the documents in front of him. Written on the paper were the words TRANSFER OF WILL, drafted by the disbarred lawyer himself, and according to the plan, it was now time for the papers to be presented… and, if heaven would forbid, be signed.
He sighed heavily, rolling his eyes toward the door that stood ajar. A tall, black man in purple clothes entered and pushed the door wider. Joey saw Ken sit up immediately as heavy footsteps thumped from the hallway, getting louder as they approached. In the gap appeared an old black woman in a huge yellow dress and headscarf, looking at them morosely. Behind her, the tall, black man stood, looming over the matriarch and them. Joey Leone stood from his seat and tugged the flaps of his suit inward before reaching out his hand for a shake. The woman looked down at his offer, snickered quite forcefully, and shook his hand like she didn’t want to touch him. The Don felt the sweat of her palm in his clutch, prompting him to draw his hand and wipe at the back of his suit.
“Pardon your old woman, them hands were shaky,” she said, lifting the hand he just shook that trembled. “No worries, me Don, me wash my hands.”
He cleared his throat and waved a hand to the chair beside the woman. “Have a seat.”
The woman squeezed her hips in the bounds of the chair, grunting before she was fully able to lower herself on the cushion. As soon as she settled herself, she unwrapped the headscarf, slowly pulling the ends of the cloth around the knot until where her hair was supposed to be was revealed.
They weren’t fresh anymore… the wounds she got on her head, but her scalp was peeling off, just like the leftovers of a snake when changing its scales. White thin films corrupted her head and craters of scars and keloids raked on her flesh. What was more disturbing was the faint yet rancid odor that seemed to come from the nasty wounds on her scalp. She folded the headscarf and placed it on the table.
Joey was not and never a sensitive man to dirt. All the life he knew, he’d been working on cars and grease and dirt, but this woman… good-fucking-ness! She was something else.
He turned to Ken Rosenberg, and though he didn’t speak, he wanted the lawyer to realize he was screaming a question – a huge what the fuck?!
Somehow, it looked like Ken understood what he meant by his glares, and in an instant, the lawyer smiled nervously and chuckled. “Poulet, you didn’t need to… you know? Remove that?” He pointed at the headscarf on the table.
The old woman, however, remained sitting still, spine postured like a stiff tree. She didn’t move, not even flinch, her eyes training on the table. Opening her mouth as if she was going to speak, Poulet whispered inaudible words with her eyes closed. Joey couldn’t hear what she was saying or that he did even care. He was too freaked out by her display of oddity and too repulsed to try asking a question.
Poulet stopped her gibberish whispers, ending by lifting her eyes to Joey. He felt himself freeze in his seat, reluctant to move, and careful not to make a sound. This woman – he didn’t believe she could do magic, and he knew that she knew it too, that her portico, though as convincing as it might seem, was not at all believable to men like him. Perhaps, that was his advantage to Reena. He knew who Poulet Etienne was and her antics.
“Me take off my scarf as a sign of me weakness,” she said, looking at him straight in the eyes. “It an offer to give you me service… for a price.”
“W-What do you mean?” Ken interjected quite agitatedly as he shot up from his seat. “I already gave you the account!”
The woman hissed, shaking her head and clicking her tongue. “Your friend took it down, no more money in it.”
It seemed like the lawyer weakened, face showing utter disappointment. He sat back on the chair and gathered all his paraphernalia in one swipe, letting them all fall at the edge of the table into his bag. Pursing his lips, Ken took his glasses off, scratching his eyes in profound distress.
“How much were you able to take?”
“Only three hundred grand, attorney.”
“Isn’t that enough yet? I mean, that’s big, right?!”
She laughed. “Mr. Rosenberg, what you want me and me boys to do to that girl was worth a million.”
“You gotta be kidding me,” Ken huffed while flailing his arms a bit.
“Lemme tells you a secret.” The woman leaned forward and rested her forearms on the table. Joey found himself pushing his seat away, not wanting to be close even an inch to the witch. “Making the juju was hard. Me factory blown up, done by your friend and his Cuban foofoo. Me beautiful boys need to get the stuff, ingredients from me native land, smuggle them nasty plants, and me boys processed it in machines that go choo-choo.” Her gaze turned to Joey, and when she smiled, he saw her silver teeth. “Labor of love and revenge. Me boys need to do the candies. If you want me to play with her brain, you gotta help me cook it.”
Joey felt a drop of sweat slide on the side of his face, slowly creeping down to his chin. There was a lump in his throat that he could hardly swallow.
“Me boys, we played with psychedelics and Spank, put them together. Smell and taste, effective. Me so sure.”
He wanted to crumple the document. He grabbed it and turned it over, showing it to the woman. “If you could let her sign this, I’m gonna pay to help you build your factory back in Little Haiti.”
She clicked her tongue again. “Don, you don’t understand. I got no more. If you want me and me boys make more, me needs your payment… now.”
But Joey didn’t want to give her a fucking single cent. All the money he had left… he wasn’t going to waste a dime on her tomfoolery. There was nothing he could willingly pledge at the moment but a promise to give the witch what was due once the will was signed. For a moment, he thought, is this even a good idea? Was he really that desperate that he agreed to resort to some Voodoo shit to fool his half-sister into signing the document? He couldn’t believe that he agreed to the lawyer’s suggestion. But to be fair, what did he expect from a guy with a mushy brain?
Ken Rosenberg wasn’t that very smart at all, but he knew a lot of things. The question was whether what he knew was right, useful, or simply crazy.
Sighing heavily, Joey had to play around. If he could keep up the ruse, perhaps, their plan to get the document to Reena would come to fruition. He slid the document to Poulet, near her headscarf, and Joey took note that he wouldn’t touch the paper anymore.
“Have her sign this and I’ll help you get rid of Tommy Vercetti.”
Poulet stared at the paper for as long as Joey could have timed. She reluctantly touched the tip of the paper and dragged it toward her, the sheets rustling softly against each other on the wooden desk. She seemed to be reading what was on it with her eyebrows lifted high, almost reaching the line that divided her forehead and her unhealthy scalp.
“Dem girl,” she murmured, “she a treasure?”
“She has something that’s rightfully mine.”
The woman snickered. “Yet, dem cash didn’t seem yours.”
Joey’s fists curled on the table. The audacity of this woman to mock him in his own home! He didn’t care that she was old, foreign, or wounded. She was vile, so vile that her presence repulsed him to a point that he couldn’t hide his disgust anymore. Even the two men who stood tall beside her looked so… abominable.
She grinned wider while looking at his right hand. “You got two less fingers–”
“Are you going to work with me or not?!”
Gradually, the snicker on Poulet’s face turned into an ominous grimace. She whispered something once more but Joey couldn’t care less. The more she prattled nonsensical things, the more the wounds on her scalp looked fresher despite being scars and keloids. Blood and white liquid oozed from certain spots, glistening on her head like magma coming out of the volcano ever so sluggishly.
“Y-Your head–”
“You was lookin’ for people to work for you, not with you.”
Is something streaming from that open sore? Fuck…
Poulet grabbed her headscarf and spread it wide, and a weird, herbal smell blended with the air. Joey held his breath in desperation. He resisted lifting his hand to his nose, but he failed.
She prudently wrapped the headscarf around her head, covering the wounds and the scars much to Joey’s relief. He didn’t know why, but somehow, while he watched her do her thing, a distinct, crawling sensation crept underneath the strands of his hair. The incomplete fingers in his right hand trembled, and Joey struggled to refrain from scratching his own head.
“What are you doing to me?”
Her laughter was the scariest cackle he’d ever heard. Poulet and her boys looked so entertained by his question. She’d finished tucking the cloth around her head, and she grabbed the document, handing it to the boy to her left.
“Me Auntie Poulet would see what me can do.”
For a moment, Joey Leone hadn’t been able to move from his position. He did nothing but watch the woman and her Haitian boys leave his office. His eyes trained on the path they took, making a mental note to himself that he’d be hiring fucking cleaners to bleach the whole house just to get rid of whatever menacing trail the Haitians left.
Ken Rosenberg was just staring at him. His face lacked any expression. Annoyed, Joey slammed his left fist on the table. “Who the fuck are those people?!”
The lawyer huffed, seemingly disappointed. He stood and grabbed his bag. “You know, Mr. Leone, you just got doped.”
“What? What are you saying–”
He pointed at the crumpled tissue paper on the side. “The candy. That was juju.”
Joey felt his face burn in a mixture of anger and shame. He jolted up from his seat and hurled toward the lawyer whom he snagged by the collar. “You fucking drugged me, you moron!”
“Calm down!” Ken pleaded, but Joey didn’t have plans of letting him go. “I just want you to see a point! That’s how fucked up it did you, right?! What things did you see?!”
“The wounds on her head! Their bleeding with pus–”
“She doesn’t have wounds!” Ken tapped his fists. “See?! Juju messes with your mind! That’s what she’s gonna give her!”
He unclutched the lawyer’s clothes and slumped back into his seat, feeling his head lighter than usual. The pressure was bearable, but he was nauseated. “What’s happening to me?” Joey closed his eyes and leaned his back against the seat. It seemed like the cushion was absorbing his body.
“Side effects,” Ken muttered as he sat back and adjusted his collar. His already ruffled hair got more disheveled. “You’ve done drugs before, right?”
“Yeah…”
“It’s worse if you haven’t… considering if your sister hasn’t tried cocaine and shit.”
Joey breathed in and out slowly. Ken was right. He was an asshole for sure, but what happened to him was a testament to how bad the Juju could be. If he imagined such horrible things, what could have been her illusions?
“Is this gonna happen to her too?”
The lawyer nodded. “I gave Poulet enough information to know how she’s gonna play with her mind.”
His tongue tasted shit. The minty flavor that lingered on his palate was replaced by an acidic, bitter taste. His gorge began to pulsate, ascertaining his nearing retching fit.
“That fucking witch,” he grumbled as bile rose to his throat. “She should fucking do this to Tommy–”
Vomit splurt from his mouth toward the floor, splattering on the tiles generously. His entrails tugged each other in vain, making him feel more queasy, and another splurge of nastiness flowed from his mouth. All he’d eaten and drunk an hour ago lay before him in an instant.
“Happened to me too when I first had Juju,” Ken commented. Joey felt the lawyer’s hand rubbing his back. He wanted to shove him away but damn, his whole body quaked. “Imagine what it can do to Reena.”
It was the only consolation he had. If Ken Rosenberg wasn’t very useful, he would’ve already dumped his dead body in Portland Rock.
REENA LOOKED AT the food on the table worriedly. She adjusted the left plate so that it aligned with the other across from it. She tugged the tablecloth that got ruffled when she moved the utensils, then put her hands right above the bowl to check if the soup was still steaming.
Are these enough? Mrs. Hubbard said it should be a heavy meal. Roasted chicken with vegetables, mashed potato, and mushroom soup. She had a water pitcher on the table, but she also prepared iced tea in the fridge in case Tommy wanted something else to drink.
Tommy hadn’t been home since yesterday. Not that she had business about what he did, of course, she wasn’t anyone but a housemate. When she asked Marcus in the morning where Tommy was, he just told her that Tommy called and said he’d be home tonight. She couldn’t help but feel the need to do something for him. It was the least she could do to give back for all his kindness to her and Cleo. Besides, what kind of a friend and companion was she if she wasn’t going to lift a finger in his house?
“Relax, dear,” Mrs. Hubbard chimed in. She was holding Cleo in her arms, the boy almost sleeping. “You’ve been making adjustments for almost half an hour already.”
“I-I’m not sure if Tommy would like this.”
Mrs. Hubbard smiled briefly while shaking her head. “I’ll put Cleo in the crib. I’ll join you in a bit.”
As soon as Mrs. Hubbard disappeared, Reena noticed that it was already getting late. Eight minutes past nine. She thought of calling Tommy and asking if he was already bound home. Maybe, he got caught up in traffic? Were there traffic jams in Little Havana? Or, perhaps, something else came up and he needed to attend to that immediately? Tommy was a busy man. He sure had a lot on his hands.
She heard the gates of the estate opening, followed by revving engine sounds. Wondering if it was Tommy, she found herself rushing to the door. The Cheetah pulled over at the bottom of the concrete steps. Reena stood by the doorway and waited for him to come down. When he did, her jaw dropped.
Wearing a shirt that didn’t look like his, Tommy stepped out of the car almost faltering in his steps. Even though she was standing at the top of the staircase, Reena saw the bruises and wounds that riddled his face and arms. Marcus came out of the Cheetah while Leigh ran from the other car. They tried to assist him but he waved a hand at them, refusing their help.
But each of his steps was limping, and seeing him struggle to climb up, she rushed down to meet him halfway. Tommy looked stunned upon seeing her coming toward him. He squinted as she caught his face and slightly lifted his chin. A cut on the top of his left eyebrow, swollen bruises on his right forehead and cheek, and a nick on his upper lip.
“Goodness! What happened to you?!” She draped her arm around his torso and held the other on his chest. He grunted upon her touch. “I’m sorry, did I hurt you?”
“No,” he retorted. “It’s okay…”
Reena thought he’d refuse her help as well, but she was thankful that he didn’t stop her as he did to Marcus and Leigh. He put his arm on her shoulders, and each time he lifted his leg, he’d groan. They took time to reach the top of the staircase. With Marcus and Leigh’s support, Reena led him to the sitting room and laid him on the couch. She put a throw pillow behind him so he could rest his head.
“What happened to him?” she asked, glancing at the two.
“Business matters?” Marcus responded with a skeptical tone.
“I’m gonna get the kit.”
“Reena, you don’t have to–”
She didn’t let Tommy finish, or at least, from what she’d last heard. Reena rushed upstairs to get the kit – some of the things she had in her drawer, clean towels, and a basin. The hallway of the mansion that she’d usually walked on for a minute had been traversed in seconds. She dashed back into the sitting room where she found Tommy glaring at Marcus and Leigh. The two were cackling, but they immediately stopped when she walked in.
“What’s… going on?”
Leigh smiled, seemingly nervous. “Nothing, Miss Reena. You need some warm water for Boss?” He offered to take the basin.
“Yeah, thank you, Leigh.”
“I’ll park the cars in the garage. I’ll be back in a sec, Boss.” Marcus winked before he left.
After briefly peeking at the weirdly-acting men, she went to Tommy and sat beside him. “Let’s take your clothes off, shall we?”
Tommy just nodded and perched up.
Carefully, she took the hem of his shirt and lifted it. Tommy raised his arms, seemingly struggling. As she removed his shirt, Reena was horrified to see the huge bruise and swelling on his chest and stomach. It looked like he’d been hit by something strong.
Somehow, it took her back in time when she found him bleeding on the couch. It was almost the same feeling, but back then was worse.
They don’t differ that much at all.
Leigh arrived and placed the basin with water on the coffee table. Reena soaked a clean towel in the warm water, wrung it, then wiped it gently starting on Tommy’s face. She carefully cleaned the wounds, pausing at times whenever he flinched or hissed.
“Just tell me if you want me to stop…” she said while putting on cream and bandaids on the open sores in his arms. She unwrapped the gauze on his wrist, revealing a slightly bigger gash. She cleaned it likewise with water, pressed it with cotton on, and wrapped it with a new bandage. “I think you should go to the hospital…”
“Why should I if I have a great doctor here?”
Warmth grew in her stomach as she pursed her lips, trying her best to prevent a smile from slipping into her mouth. “Well, I don’t know what I’m doing, so I’m not very confident that you’re putting your life into my hands, patient…”
Tommy chuckled. “Seriously, Reena. Thank you. You don’t have to do this for me.”
She looked at him with a stern beam. This man who did a lot for her was refusing her help. She held his hand, feeling the pads of his cold fingers. “This is the least I can do for you if you come home wounded like this.” She finished tucking in the bandage wrap. “I should keep a first aid kit around here if I really wanna help you.”
“I’ll just spill booze to my wounds and it would heal in a short while,” he remarked, then his grasp tightened around hers. “But, I think I kinda prefer this.”
Reena wasn’t able to stop the smile from lacing her lips. Of course, Tommy had gone like this for so long without her or any other people’s help, and he could definitely go a long way. Yet, while she was here, she wouldn’t let him tend alone to his injuries. He didn’t leave her when she needed him around. She planned to do the same.
“Oh my good lords, what happened to you, Mr. Vercetti?”
Mrs. Hubbard stood with both of her hands on her chest. The old woman’s gaze fell to her hands that held Tommy’s. All of a sudden, Reena felt embarrassment creeping beneath her skin, realizing it could be misinterpreted by Mrs. Hubbard, so she tugged her hands from his grip.
She had to think quickly. What should I say? As her mind raced for an excuse, she remembered. “Oh, me and Mrs. Hubbard prepared dinner for you…”
“You did?”
“Yeah, we’ve prepared some food for you to eat, but it seems like we gotta bring them here.”
Tommy stared at her with a perplexed expression on his face as if he couldn’t believe what she just said. What are you thinking about? She wondered, and when she realized that she’d been staring at him for too long, she cleared her throat, stood up, and tucked her hair behind her ears.
“You wait here. We’ll get the food, alright?”
All Tommy did was nod at her with a slightly gaping mouth.
Reena walked past Mrs. Hubbard and left the sitting room with her heart beating so fast. She couldn’t understand why she felt nervous so abruptly. Was it because of Tommy’s condition? Was it because she touched his hand for a long time? Or was it because he was looking at her with something in his eyes she couldn’t explain?
Shaking her head, Reena shunned the thoughts and rushed her way to the dining room to get the food before it turned cold.
Notes:
Thank you so much for reading <3
P.S. Life has been hard. Very hard, but I hope you're doing well. Wherever you are.
Chapter 27: The Encounter
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
THE NEWS ABOUT the factory’s destruction died quickly. The Vice City Bureau of Investigation ruled out the explosion as an accident, although pieces of evidence showed that multiple Haitians died through gunshots. According to Umberto, the bureau didn’t want to publicize that a drug factory had been erected in Little Haiti without their knowledge, thus, the fake news about its annihilation.
Well, Tommy didn’t care, because today, he had a promise to fulfill.
He strapped the carrier to his torso while Cleo slept, probably warmed by his body. Reena scratched her head as she helped him tighten the belts to keep the carrier still. He looked down at the baby and saw his mouth agape with a bit of drool, and his bubbly, pink cheek pressed on his bosom. Reena reached out and placed a towel right above Cleo’s mouth, wiping what had been stained on Tommy’s shirt.
“Do you really wanna do this?” she asked skeptically, looking up at him with a frowning face. “I can carry him, swear.”
Marcus and Leigh stood with Mrs. Hubbard not far from them in the parking lot, all of them staring with insinuating gazes. If Reena weren’t around, he would’ve already smacked his henchmen. Marcus seemed to chuckle silently while Leigh shifted his mischievous scrutiny at Reena while a snicker gradually painted on his mouth.
“Yeah, I think he’d be more comfortable with me,” he joked, touching the crook of her elbow gently. “Besides, I want you to pick the items you like. If you have him in front of you, he’s gonna weigh you down.”
He walked with her to the entrance of El Nuevo Siglo, the largest superstore outside a mall in Vice City. The ground floor contained all food products while the second floor had a wider range of non-food things, including an extension of Washington Mall’s department store.
Afterward, they could drop by Umberto’s diner to formally introduce Reena to him.
They could also go around and visit the cab depot so she’d meet Doris, his dispatcher, or the Cherry Popper Ice Cream Factory so Maude Hanson could see her. Of the two ladies, Maude wasn’t such a good idea because she didn’t like babies. Cleo would be met with judgmental glares.
Or now that they were here, what if they went to Print Works so he could show her to Earnest Kelly? That fucking sounded like the best idea.
The scent of packages and grocery items lingered in the atmosphere of the grocery. It was huge and freaking cold, making him wrap his arms around Cleo’s carrier. Marcus, Leigh, and Mrs. Hubbard were walking ahead of them, but he could hear the old woman comment about how frigid the air was. When he glanced beside him, Reena wasn’t there. He looked over his shoulder and saw her by the entrance talking to a little black girl with kinky hair behind a desk. The girl offered her something on a saucer, which Reena reluctantly took and ate. She smiled and walked toward him as she rubbed her hands over her arms, ascertaining that she was cold as well.
Should I put my arm around her too?
“The cute little girl offered me candy for a taste test,” she said cheerfully while chewing. “It’s got mint.”
“You’re cuter,” he whispered.
“Did you say something?”
Tommy felt his face burn, and shunning the urge to repeat his thoughts, he shook his head and smiled. “No, no, I didn’t!”
“Would you like me to get Cleo?”
“How many times do I have to tell you?” He motioned a hand to the aisles of groceries before them. “I want you to pick anything you want.”
“I’m not picking a lot,” she said, drawing out a paper with a list of things. “These are all we’re buying. Me and Mrs. Hubabrd, we’ve budgeted it so my money would suffice.”
Tommy took the list of grocery items. “A carton of milk, a box of green tea, a tray of eggs, bread loaf, pancake– wait,” he paused, skimming all the items down to the bottom. “None of this shit’s for you.”
“Oh,” she mumbled, then pointed at the top of the list. “I-I’m actually having the green tea for myself.”
“That’s all? Don’t you need or want anything else aside from these?”
She touched his arm. “Tommy, you’re already giving us everything. What else do we need?”
First, her smile. Then, her laughter. Now, her touch. If she kept doing these things, soon, she’d find herself scooped in his arms.
I’m gonna fucking give you more of everything.
In an instant, Tommy crumpled the paper and tossed it to the back. Reena was shocked, her eyes and mouth gaping wide, seemingly unsure of how to react or what to say. He grabbed her hand, surprising her even more, and he dragged her to the aisles. The moment they caught up with the three, Tommy lifted his hand, the one holding hers, and pointed at Marcus and Leigh.
“You, two, help Mrs. Hubbard fill up three huge carts with everything she thinks we need in the estate.” He took the bulging purse out of his pocket and tossed it to Leigh. “Don’t forget green tea.”
Gently yet without letting go, Tommy led her to the escalator opposite in the direction of the grocery aisles. Perplexed and perceivably reluctant, Reena tugged his arm. “What about us? Where are we going?”
Tommy didn’t answer. Instead, he calmly stepped onto the platform while patting his other hand on Cleo’s carrier, the boy still asleep in his bosom. Reena stood beside him motionless, and every moment they spent just the three of them together – him, Reena, and Cleo – the more he felt his heart growing and warming up, relishing every second of their time alone. The platform moved up slowly, and he could feel her tense beside him, but he was thanking gods deep within that she was not pulling away, not even flinching.
On the other side of the escalator, going down to the ground floor was a woman with curly blonde hair. Behind her were two men wearing polo shirts, slacks, and sunglasses. Tinted eyewear inside a store? Ridiculous.
“Tommy Vercetti!” the woman exclaimed, her eyes falling to the carrier that held Cleo and his hand that held Reena’s. “Family day?!”
He couldn’t remember who she was, but she looked like one of those women who’d always go to the fancy parties that Colonel Juan Cortez or Congressman Alex Shrub hosted. Having no recollection, Tommy turned his head away and ignored her until they passed by each other, hoping not to come across her again.
The vast floor of the second level welcomed them into the wide selection of clothes, footwear, and accessories, among others.
“Now, pick something you like and want. We ain’t leaving this place until you do…”
REENA HAD SPENT close to thirty minutes searching the store and yet, she couldn’t pick anything at all.
To the best of her ability, she tried to remember the last time she was able to shop for herself. Had she gone once while she was in Liberty City? In Angel Pine? Was there even a mall in Whetstone? If she was right, the only time she did was when they were in Vice City. With him.
Ironic, that now she had the chance to shop again, it was still in Vice City but with a different man. Sometimes, it did hurt to be reminded of the reality she was trying to turn her back on.
The thought of going to the groceries slipped off her mind had Tommy not reminded her of his promise last week. When he told her they’d be going today, she felt herself flush. Since the night Tommy came home wounded, he hadn’t left the estate until today. He was still recuperating, and when she brought that up earlier, Tommy threatened her.
“I wouldn’t be eating anything you’d prepare if we didn’t go out today.”
She knew it was just a silly attempt to force her to drop her worries, but still…
There was nothing she intended to buy herself. Her eyes ran across the array of selections. Beautiful and comfortable-looking dresses hung in rotating steel racks. Synthetic but adorable accessories were displayed on counters and mannequin busts. Sturdy footwear made of high-end materials in a variety of designs somehow caught her attention, but ultimately, she decided that she needed none of it. She had enough clothes and shoes to wear, and it didn’t matter if they were old. Never had it crossed her mind to replace the things that they bought together.
The last time she saw Tommy was on the other side of the department store, looking at some baby clothes. She wondered what he wanted her to do and why he was pressing her to buy something she was convinced she didn’t need. He was kind… too kind that it almost suffocated her. Guilt struck her chest as she lamented having to pick something half-heartedly. Determined not to disappoint him, she wandered around the sections of the department store, jumping from one display to another, until she didn’t notice she’d meandered too far and lost sight of him and Cleo.
When she didn’t recognize the place at all, she strolled back on the same path she took to get to the place she was already in. On her way, she came across two black men in purple shirts and caps. Both of them were staring at her strangely. They stopped midway, eyes trained on her, and in rather a panic, Reena walked past them. She didn’t look back anymore but she knew that their gazes followed her.
The archway signage stated the word CULTURE, and indeed, the section was filled with items that seemed to belong to different traditions. Colorful dresses and clothes, exotic-looking items, and accessories were exhibited, and there, at the corner, was a mannequin wearing a headscarf and huge, round earrings. Touching the item, she felt the cloth between the pads of her fingers, and though it was cool to touch, it also seemed tightly knitted. The design was abstract images of varying colors and shapes and they blended magnificently on the cloth. She wasn’t going to buy it, but the item just struck her differently.
“How you be likin’ dem headdress, girl?”
She was surprised when she heard a voice. An old, black woman with a stout body wearing a huge purple dress and head scarf, just like the one on the display, stilled beside her. In her ears dangled two huge round earrings that complimented the dress she wore. Odd as it was that she looked like someone related to the men she came across somewhere in the department store, Reena didn’t feel endangered. Quietly, she stood beside her, reached out to the mannequin, and dusted the headscarf. While perplexed, Reena smelled a quite odd scent somewhere.
In Angel Pine, whenever she was outside doing mundane tasks, she seldom met new people. If she ever did, it would be because Mrs. Herrera introduced them to her or they’d just smile at her as a form of greeting. No words. Perhaps, the time she spent mostly in isolation had weakened her social skills, not that she had a strong one to begin with.
Swallowing the building lump in her throat as she fumbled for the right words to say, she lifted her eyes to the old woman. “It’s beautiful, and I can see you’re… you’re wearing the same.”
“Dem scarf a symbol of women power,” the old woman mumbled as she adjusted the headscarf on the bust’s head. “Me people bring dem scarf to America when nasty foofoos took dem slaves. For years, we wear dem scarf dem way women want, no men tell dem what to do.”
Reena looked at the headscarf again, then lowered her head. Should she feel sorry about the old woman’s tale? Or was it just a form of small talk to kickstart a conversation? Gods, she thought. I wish I still knew how to keep talks up.
“You know, girl, me think dem scarf would be nice on your pretty head.”
She blushed. Even if it wasn’t true, it was such a nice word to say about a stranger. “Thank you, but I think it looks best on you.”
The old woman smiled, seemingly pleased with what she said. She had silver in her teeth, which looked uncanny to her. “You alone, girl?”
There was a noticeable increase in the odd scent, and now, Reena wasn’t sure where it was coming from. Skunky, earthy scent with a blend of potent lemongrass with… lead? It was surrounding her already, coming in all directions and invading her senses. Her head suddenly throbbed, causing her vision to swirl. She touched her temples while she held on to a rack of clothes.
“Dizzy? Hm,” the old woman hummed. She felt a hand on the crook of her elbow, gently holding her up.
Tommy. Cleo. Where are they? She looked around the department store and saw no signs of them. She worried about her son. Where’s my baby? Her thoughts ran wild, but even she wasn’t sure what she was actually dreading.
“Girl, what’s wrong?”
“I’m… I’m smelling something funny,” she answered, struggling to find a voice amid her growing confusion. She felt like her surroundings were pulsating, squeezing her head in an utter sensation of pressure. The skunky smell just grew stronger, like a burning pinewood forest in the middle of the air-conditioned store. She tried to keep standing, but her knees trembled, and in a snap, Reena found herself almost swooning if not for the old woman catching her arms.
“Sit, girl,” she said, helping her slump to the floor. The old woman clicked her tongue, staring at her apprehensively. “Your face’s red.” The woman cupped her cheeks. “Breathe in and out, child.”
A sharp pain shot from her nape up to her head like lightning excruciatingly coursing through her nerves. She opened her lips slightly, attempting to say something, but it felt like everything got stuck in her throat. The faint mint taste of the candy she had eaten earlier still lingered on her tongue, but somehow, it had gone bitter.
“Your Auntie Poulet’s here, me girl–”
“Reena!”
Tommy appeared out of nowhere. Cleo was still strapped in his front, and Reena couldn’t help but feel relief from seeing them. His face remarked concern as he approached her, but when his eyes landed on the black woman, the worry in them faded and was instantly replaced by what Reena could describe as fury.
It seemed like he was still far from her but in a blink of an eye, she felt his clutch on her arm. It was so tight that it almost hurt, especially when he yanked her up, forcing her to stand despite feeling a bit shaky. The moment she got on her feet, Tommy hauled her to his back, and he immediately unstrapped Cleo’s carrier from his body, transferring the baby to her arms.
“Go downstairs now,” he commanded, voice stern and hoarse.
While she clung to Cleo as firmly as she could, she knew she couldn’t move yet. Her legs still felt feeble, and if she ever tried to step, she might falter. “I’m… I’m dizzy, Tommy. I can’t go down alone…”
Tommy’s gaze softened. “Okay, stay behind me.” Then, he faced the old woman. “What the fuck did you do to her?!”
His words were ruthless and disrespectful to a stranger, let alone to an old woman who just did her kindness. Shame and shock fought within her, tugging on both sides and trying to steal her attention on which one she should be overwhelmed with. She tried to look at the old woman, but all she saw was her snidely smiling mouth.
“How are you, Tommy? You be a good boy?”
The two men that she saw earlier appeared behind the old woman, and it was the only time she noticed how tall they were. Her height just reached up to their bosoms, and these two men… their eyes were… red? Swollen? She didn’t realize how high they were when she walked past them. Were they always that… looming?
“Boss!”
Marcus, Leigh, and Mrs. Hubbard appeared behind them, and the smile on the black woman’s face gradually faded. From Tommy, the black woman turned to her, and Reena couldn’t understand why the hair on her skin stood on end. The moment their eyes met, the woman smiled again, showing her the silver in her fangs.
She said something, but her words were distorted… incoherent and random ramblings of a voice that seemed to come from the depths of the earth.
The black woman spun, followed by the two tall men standing behind her. They walked to the other side of the department store, disappearing in the winding aisles. In an instant, the total silence that engulfed the area when she and the old woman were alone was replaced by the faint sound of music playing through the sputtering speaker and a few, intermittent announcements from the customer center.
Two huge hands held her face firmly, shaking her out of her stupor. Tommy’s glare had a mixture of dread and wrath in them. He seemed to check her eyes as he pulled the skin under them gently.
“Are you alright? What did she do to you?!”
Reena felt Mrs. Hubbard take Cleo from her as the straps of the carrier slid on her skin. “N-Nothing, she… she did nothing to me.”
“Are you sure?!”
Why was Tommy so mad with the woman? He was acting so strange, rude, and disbelieving. His fingers almost furrowed on her cheeks. He lifted her chin, turning her face left to right, even checking her nose and her mouth.
“Did you eat something?!”
“Just… the candy,” she muttered.
“Come on, we’re leaving now,” Tommy said, and instead of just briefly touching her back, his arm draped around her shoulders. She needed it, though. Reena leaned her head on his side as they stepped on the escalator on the way down. Her head… it wasn’t hurting anymore, but the scent left her with some nasty effect, making her feel lightheaded and weak. His warmth, however, had rather cooled her down, and his cologne somehow dampened the weird smell she caught.
All she wanted to do was to buy the stuff she and Mrs. Hubbard planned for in her shopping list. Things took a sharp turn. Two strange men. Funny smell. A woman. Funny smell. Silver fangs. Mad Tommy.
Reena closed her eyes as she tried to recall what was happening. It seemed like everything she had in her memory was slowly fading, blurring, and disintegrating. When she opened her eyes, they were already heading out of the store, walking under the bright dazzle of the sun. The way to the parking lot seemed to take forever. As soon as Tommy let her into the car, she lifted her shaky hands and looked at them, checking each of her fingers back and front, but even she didn’t understand why she was doing it.
“Hey,” Tommy’s voice called. He’d just closed the door and sat beside her, holding on to the steering wheel, about to key in. He seemed to notice that she hadn’t put on her seatbelt, so he reached for the strap and pulled it across her body. “Everything alright?”
The latch clicked and she jolted. Have I always been this jumpy? She looked at him and shook her head. Reena could feel her seat vibrating. “Where’s Cleo?”
“He’s with Mrs. Hubbard. Marcus and Leigh will be driving the other car.”
She raised her hand to her head. What’s happening to me? Why can’t I remember anything?
“You’re scaring me,” Tommy said as he cupped her cheeks.
“My head… It’s like, mushed. I can’t remember their faces, their voice… It’s confusing…”
His brows creased. Tommy removed his hand from her face and clutched the gear. “You sure you don’t remember what she did to you?”
“No… I really don’t…”
In an instant, Tommy pulled the gear and drove the car backward, then pushed it forward and pressed the gas pedal. The car beside them followed shortly, which Reena recognized to be the car that Marcus and Leigh were driving. When she looked back at Tommy, his eyes were fixated on the road, but she could see how tense he was by the way he breathed, let alone the trickling beads of sweat on his forehead.
“Let’s go home now. But tomorrow, I’m taking you to my friend...”
Notes:
This is an implied reference to Juju Scramble – Auntie Poulet and the drug she used on Tommy Vercetti (GTA Vice City).
Thank you so much for reading! <3
Chapter 28: Affliction
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
TOMMY SLOWED DOWN in front of Café Robina. As he turned the engine off, he saw Reena fiddling on her seat, looking outside nervously.
“Let’s go?” he asked, prompting her to look back at him again.
She nodded faintly, unbuckled her seatbelt, and opened the door.
Since they came home yesterday, Reena seemed so disoriented. Mrs. Hubbard told him that though she was in the nursery with Cleo, she was just looking nowhere, seemingly zoned out. Even in the morning when he went to the kitchen to see how she was doing, the kettle just whistled before her. Her eyes trained nowhere, and she wouldn’t have gotten back to her senses if he hadn’t put a hand on her shoulder.
It looked like something had been unwired in her.
He suspected that she was the culprit of the current daze Reena was in. Poulet – that witch – was leaning toward Reena and whispering something in her ear. Seeing the matriarch that he thought had long departed from Vice City sparked a blurry memory he wished to forget. Ironically, it was also something he didn’t remember before.
What was happening to Reena was the same thing that happened to him when he encountered the Haitian back in his first year in the South. When he became friends with Umberto Robina, the Cuban gang leader asked for his help to defend Little Havana from the Haitian gang. He thought he was making a point by visiting Little Haiti and her shack with the aim of scaring her away from spurging an all-out war against the Los Cabrones. However, for days that followed, he could not, for the fucking love of gods, remember what happened to him until Umberto snapped him out.
He helped the Haitians kill Umberto’s men. All he recalled was drinking the tea that Poulet gave him when he arrived at the shack.
“Ella está loca, amigo! ¡Una bruja!”
The chimes hanging at the doorstep tinkled as Tommy pushed the front door open, giving way for Reena to enter. At almost lunchtime, the diner was half filled with customers, and the man behind the counter was shouting orders to the kitchen. The fragrant butifarra being grilled reached the counter, blending along with the appetizing smell of arroz con pollo and ropa vieja. The buzz was rather overwhelming, with people talking and laughing, utensils clanking on plates, and servers screaming for customers’ names to claim their orders.
Tommy found a space at the end of the counter near the door, so he touched the small of Reena’s back and urged her to take a seat on the remaining chair. She reluctantly perched on the swivel stool and awkwardly adjusted herself on the cushion.
“Would you like me to get you anything? They’ve got good churros here. Pairs well with hot cocoa,” he said while he stood beside her and leaned on the counter.
She nodded and smiled, though Tommy knew it was forced.
He raised his hand. “Rico!”
The man looked back at him, and the Cuban dropped everything he was doing and dashed a big smile as he approached. “Tommy, amigo!” he exclaimed, reaching out for his hand. Tommy grabbed Rico’s and shook it firmly. “Buen aspecto! ¿Cómo son tus heridas?” When Rico’s gaze shifted to Reena, a surprised look flashed on his face. He touched his chest as if he was shocked, pointing at Reena with an open hand. “Nueva novia?”
Tommy felt himself flush. Reena’s face also turned red. “No, no, Rico,” he quickly denied, though deep inside, it would’ve been his pleasure to just let the other people think of them that way. “We were supposed to go here yesterday but we got caught up with certain things. Is Umberto busy?”
“Nah, just usual. With la chicas!”
Tommy compelled a chuckle. “Alright. We’ll wait for ‘im. And Rico, churros and hot cocoa please, for my friend.”
The man clicked his tongue while gesturing a gun through his hand, affirming Tommy’s request. He turned around immediately and entered the back kitchen.
Reena sat while playing with her fingers. Tommy could see how she often glanced up and down as if waiting uneasily. To let time pass by without an awkward silence between them, he decided to tell her things about his friend and the diner.
“My friend Umberto’s the gang leader of Los Cabrones… Cubans, here in the city. He owns this diner with his father.” He pointed to an old man at the end of the counter who was busy counting the money in the cashier’s box. “If I want some breakfast, this is where I go.”
“I… I’m sorry if I wasn’t able to prepare you anything today,” she said cumbersomely, her eyes low while she peered up from time to time. “I know I promised that I’ll be making breakfast for you but–”
“Hey, come on Reena, that’s okay, and it’s not your job to prepare me anything, alright?” He rubbed his hand over her back. She felt so stiff. “You sure you still don’t remember anything from yesterday? If she told you something?”
She looked at him with certainty while gently shaking her head. “I really don’t, but last night I woke up and I feel… strange.”
“Tommy,” called a voice from the kitchen door, cutting their conversation. It was Rico. He came out of the doorway holding a cup of steaming hot cocoa and a plate of freshly baked churros that smelled of lemon. “Boss wants to talk to you first… alone.” Placing the order before them, Rico quickly grabbed a pack of marshmallows and set them beside the cup of chocolate, flashing a bright smile at Reena.
He sighed, wondering what Umberto needed to tell him first before coming out. Reluctantly, he turned to Reena and touched her arm, seeking confirmation if he could leave her alone for a while. Without speaking, Reena briefly nodded and smiled, seemingly telling him that she’d be alright.
Letting go of his hold on her, he walked toward the end of the counter and entered through the mini door. Umberto’s father followed him with a scrutinizing glare as if he wasn’t regularly visiting the place. The Cuban leader told him his padre was getting more senile each time, and when asked what he planned to do by the time the old man needed all-day care, Umberto told him that his father would just sit by the counter and watch the customers with intimidation and he had no plans of bringing him into a hospice.
Rico entered the kitchen door. Taking a last glance at Reena, Tommy followed him immediately.
FOR HOW LONG, Reena didn’t know, but she waited since Tommy disappeared in the doorway. She barely touched the churros and took only a couple of sips from the drink. Though they were great, she couldn’t bring herself to eat. Something in her stomach felt so upset.
She began scratching the crook of her elbows, finding some rashes that had multiplied since morning. When she was taking a shower, she saw the same flares on her chest, wondering where she got them from. She must’ve taken something she wasn’t meant to take.
Looking to her side, she saw the other customers busy going by and minding their business. Some were talking to one another, others were reading newspapers, a couple was smoking, and the old man – Umberto’s father – was looking at her with narrow eyes.
At first, Reena thought she was just mistaken. Perhaps, the old man’s vision was so blurry that he had to squint his eyes to try to see. However, all her excuses were disproven when he started curling his lips downward, seemingly disapproving and shaking his head. Unsure of what he meant, Reena put a hand on her chest and pointed at herself.
“Me?”
The old man lifted a hand and gestured thumbs-down while his eyes menacingly trained on her. She quickly averted her stare, feeling ashamed and small, puzzled why someone who didn’t know her would show dislike for her. The shrinking feeling in her chest deepened like it was forcefully digging into her guts, making her feel nauseous.
Your Auntie Poulet’s here, me girl…
A strange, hollow voice. She shook her head and drummed her fingers on the surface, counting seconds to minutes… and minutes to endlessness as she waited for Tommy to come back. Even though she wasn’t looking at all, Reena knew that the old man was still staring at her… judging her every moment that passed. She could feel him going over her head, an instant paranoia that she’d experienced for the first time.
What am I even doing here? she asked herself. I shouldn’t have come with Tommy.
As the awkward feeling ate her, Reena decided that it was best if she’d just wait in the car.
Slowly, she got down from the swivel stool and headed outside without looking back, pushing the door as gently as she could. The stiff air in the café choked her, especially with a seemingly invisible hand strangling her neck until she couldn’t breathe anymore. As soon as she made it out of the café, she gulped for air, trying to find a difference in the thickness, though she found nothing. The same, maddening atmosphere was beating her senses into feeling something she couldn’t fathom at all.
More rashes appeared on her forearms, making her scratch vigorously.
The weather was quite humid and uncomfortable, the sun’s rays directly shining at the diner. Reena put a hand above her eyes as she crossed the street toward Tommy’s car. A bike appeared out of nowhere, blaring a horn at her and prompting her to halt in her tracks. The driver yelled some words she didn’t understand before dashing away. Distracted, she didn’t notice another car coming. One more round of blasting horns shook her in the middle of the street, causing her to quickly leap to the other side.
Her heart was beating too fast, dreading how she almost got hit… twice. She found herself standing stiff at the roadside, her breathing aggravated by the fumes, heat, and dust that surrounded Little Havana. Breathe in, breath out, she convinced herself to do so. Wiping the sweat on her forehead with the back of her hand, she took a mouthful of air and exhaled aloud, refocusing on what she aimed to do. Remembering her goal, Reena immediately grabbed the car’s door handle, only to realize that she didn’t have the keys.
A disappointed sigh escaped her lips. Deciding it was best to go back into the diner and just endure the daunting glare of the old man, she suddenly felt the hairs on her skin stand on their end. It was hot and she was wearing a shirt with sleeves, making it confounding for her why she was chilled. There was a strange feeling that someone was watching her, but then again, she wasn’t seeing anyone suspicious. She crossed her arms over her chest as she started walking, but when she lifted her eyes, she saw the little girl from the superstore yesterday.
She couldn’t see her face because she was quite far away, but her kinky hair and bright smile couldn’t be mistaken. The girl was standing about two blocks away, wearing the same pink, floral dress she had worn before. Reena looked left to right, checking if her parents or anyone who knew her was around, but the streets were empty except for the occasional cars that passed by on the tangent street. Reminiscing herself almost getting hit, she felt the need to ensure that the girl was not on her own.
“Hey, where’s your mom or dad?”
The girl turned around and walked into an alleyway where she disappeared.
It was a reflex. Reena found herself sprinting to the spot. The pain was there, crawling and lingering, but she didn’t fucking care. She could feel her heart beating faster, pounding in her chest incessantly, loudly… powerfully like she was going to explode. She knew she shouldn’t have followed, but something gravitated her toward the girl. Worry? Curiosity? It was all so vague. The moment she reached the spot, she turned into the same alleyway that the girl entered.
She was at the far end. When Reena started strolling toward her, the girl turned to another path again, disappearing in the corner. Reena felt desperation within, but she was determined to get to her no matter what. She picked up the pace and ran to the end of the alleyway and went to the same path the girl turned to.
The path was empty. She didn’t find her there. Her stomach sank, feeling as if she was going to throw up, and her knees began to tremble. None of it she minded, though, as she started marching again and dragging her heavy steps across the short route. Her eyes and nose stung as a throng of nausea threatened to burst. Must be the heat. Yeah. Her hand clutched her chest while she neared the end of the path walk, seeing the light she was chasing at the edge.
Blazes burned her eyes as she exited the narrow street, prompting her to shield them once again with her shaking hand. On the sidewalk she stood, seeing no one, not even the girl earlier. Across the street, however, was what she deemed a neighborhood of small bungalow houses that looked abandoned save for a few civilians walking on the pavement.
On the walls of the old buildings that stood on her end were markings from spray paint probably scribbled by random people. Realizing that she’d gone too far from the diner, Reena worried that Tommy was already looking for her, so she turned around, aiming for the same path that she came out from. However, a wave of pain swept within her before she could even take a step, making her unable to keep standing up. She leaned on the wall with scribblings while holding her forehead, hissing at the excruciating pang that lingered in her temples.
“You okay, girl?”
She felt a hand on the crook of her elbow, causing her to flinch. An old black woman in a huge dress and a headscarf stood beside her, staring at her worriedly. With her help, she was able to stand again, the black woman not letting her go, and she helped her cross the street.
“Me girl shan’t be walkin’ alone in an alleyway, too many foofoos and bad guys, hm?”
“Do I…” Reena halted. The woman looked so eerily familiar, but she couldn’t fathom why, whenever she looked at her face, it was unclear. She couldn’t see her eyes… her nose… just a glimpse of her white teeth. Clearing her throat, she blinked. “Do I know you?”
“Come child, come, rest for a while in my place.”
“In… in your place?” she asked weakly as she swallowed the lump in her throat. It was then that Reena realized she was smelling something odd. When did it begin? A skunky and earthy smell so compelling that made her feel dizzy. Sweat rolled down the side of her face. As much as she was thankful for the old woman’s help, she realized she was being taken somewhere even though she didn’t consent. She pulled herself from her grasp, though, the moment she got off, the strong scent burst once again, causing her to grunt and almost fall forward.
The old woman clicked her tongue. “Oh, girl, don’t try to get away from Auntie Poulet, hm?” Behind her, two tall black men appeared. Both of them wore purple sweatshirts and pants with the same red and swollen eyes. “Don’t be scared. Me boys, dem good. Dem will help you up, eh?”
Huge and strong hands gripped her arms. Reena panicked and she thought to scream, but a cloth was pressed over her nose and mouth. She found it hard to breathe, and though she still could, there was a pungent yet slightly sweet odor coming from the cloth. It made her giddy. The grips that held her limbs didn’t lose strength, however. When she felt her legs wane, one of them scooped and carried her to wherever.
In her blurred vision, she saw a neighborhood of small bungalow houses, and the further she was carried, the more emptiness she saw. Further in. She tried to lift her arm but to no avail. It was a long, arduous walk, her consciousness drifting here and there. When they stopped, she heard a creaking noise. Like that of an old wood. Were they climbing up? It was hard to tell. Her body shivered when all the light she was seeing disappeared.
“We’re here, girl. Let me brew you some tea, herbs and jujus to make you feel better.”
She was laid down on a rather soft cushion that ruffled at her back like it was made of straw. She could hear a humming sound – a joyful hymn accompanied by whistling tremolo. She tried to follow the source, so she turned her head in the direction from where she was hearing it even though she couldn’t see anything.
“Why–” she asked, trying to find the words to make up her question. She desperately looked around, but good heavens, was something wrong in her eyes? Everything was hazy and foggy, none of the furniture or objects inside made sense to her. “I-I can’t see anything.”
“Take them candy, child? To feel better. You don’t remember what I told you yesterday, do you?”
“Yesterday?”
“Hm,” the old woman hummed.
She tried to retort and resist, but she couldn’t even see her! Like silhouettes or phantoms or shadows liquefied in the air. A hand touched her face, lifting her chin very gently, and above her, the old woman smiled. Something shone in her mouth, like glistening silver fangs.
“Open mouth, child, and you’ll feel good.”
Reena knew she shouldn’t, but when she tried to purse her lips, the woman pressed her cheeks. She slipped something into her mouth. As it landed on her tongue, the mint flavor – like the candy she ate yesterday burst. It melted and tickled her throat, but not really. Something was just… wrong.
A gloomy chuckle. It was the woman. Her breath smelled like the candy. Did she take it too?
“Me could read your palm, tell your future…”
She grabbed her hand, opening it by pulling her fingers that curved into a ball. A nail traced the middle of her palm, tingling her a bit. For a moment, it felt like her vision returned, intermittent clarity, and she saw the old woman seemingly examining every line on her hand, even on her fingers.
“You gone through very bad pain, hm, been cryin’ all night, almost you wanna die.”
Her brows churned. How did she know that? She hadn’t met this woman before, had she?
“Now, you wanna be happy, dem girl wanna forget.”
There was a wave of color around the woman. Beautiful colors.
“But me Auntie Poulet warnin’ you, girl.”
They were dancing in the air. Rainbows. Stars going in circles. Why does her voice sound so good?
“Someone foolin’ you, lyin’ to you… dem not true. Only to hurt you more.”
The colors that were drifting in the void went around and surrounded her, pulsating before her eyes. Reena felt her heart beating fast… faster… like it was racing to hell and back. She couldn’t breathe. Tight. Chest was tight.
“Poor, poor girl.” A finger stroked her cheek. “Me don’t wanna be in dem shoes.”
In a jiffy, the pulsating of colors slowed down, and now they looked like jellyfish swimming in space, floating away from each other. Her head got heavy, causing her to lean back down further, feeling the straw cushion behind her. The woman… she could no longer see her anymore, but she caught a glimpse of the outline of her shadow looming over her. The humming resumed, deeper, hollower… as if it was coming from the depths of the earth.
A distorted voice spoke.
“Sleep, child. Sleep…”
Notes:
Thank you so much for reading <3
Chapter 29: The Curse
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
REENA WAS MISSING. When Tommy came out of the kitchen with Umberto, he didn’t see her in the spot where he left her. Rico said she just stormed out of the diner looking quite distraught, but he didn’t see where she’d gone right after.
Tommy thought she went home, but it seemed like the estate hadn’t caught a glimpse of her either. Marcus told him that Reena wasn’t there, and not even the mobsters manning the gates saw her arrive.
Every step he took with Umberto as they scoured the streets near the diner was filled with fear. He tried calling her phone but it just kept on ringing.
“What if they got her, amigo?” Umberto’s question was accompanied by his labored breathing, apparently exhausted by their long and fastidious brisk walking. “The boys said they’ve seen a few gathering around the old neighborhood–”
“Then, we go there!” he cried, failing to stop his rather angry outburst. He wasn’t mad at Umberto. His fury was more toward himself.
When he thought it was all over dealing with the bastards, he couldn’t be more wrong. They’d ensnared their deal with the Leones. They’d taken down their drug factory. They’d kill a lot of their men. But they were still here… like wild grass growing everywhere no matter how barren the soil was.
And Poulet. That witch. Wasn’t it enough that she’d lost a significant number of her men so that she’d stop trying to reclaim the upper hand in Little Havana and Little Haiti? What did she want? And why Reena?!
On foot, they trudged the sidewalks of the district several blocks away from the diner. Pepe and Rico with the others had also come looking for Reena, but at the moment, they received no update just yet. When Umberto told him that the Haitians were working with someone from Liberty City, he already knew who it was. He was livid, but as long as Joey Leone hadn’t stepped foot in Vice City, Tommy wouldn’t be taking drastic measures.
Salvatore Leone should be bawling in hell right now. His son didn’t know how to honor an agreement. A total opposite of his wonderful daughter.
His phone rang. Tommy froze and retrieved the device from his pocket, and he couldn’t help but feel a sweeping relief when Reena’s name flashed on the screen.
“Hey,” he immediately answered, trying his best to keep calm in his voice. “Where are you? Why did you leave the diner–”
“If you wanna get dem girl, come to me shack.”
The beeping sound from the other end strummed his nerves like the painful strings of a dilapidated guitar, creating a cacophony of madness. The device slipped from his hand and fell to the floor, surprising Umberto, even more so, when Tommy didn’t even stoop down to pick it up. He just looked ahead, his eyes trained on the rows of bungalows on the horizon, transcending beyond the concrete structures toward the abandoned settlement on the edge of Little Haiti.
Why Reena? he asked himself. The dull ache in his chest emerged compellingly.
“Amigo, what happened? Where is she?” Umberto asked as he picked up the phone.
In his mind came flashing a memory. The huge, clay pot was suspended in a rusting steel rod above a wood fire. Poulet, her back facing him, crouched at an awkward angle as she carefully dropped powder, dried roots, twigs, and a few leaves into the concoction. Its pungent smell overwhelmed his senses, earthy and aromatic, yet revolting. The mixture boiled rapidly, the sound bubbling non-stop. She even took a wooden ladle and scraped the bottom of the clay. The steam rose, the smoke filling the dark shack with mist.
He drank the tea. And another. And another. On each visit. In each attempt.
How ridiculous it was that he could remember them now clearly.
Tommy snagged the device from Umberto’s hand in a swift motion. He dialed Marcus and pressed the phone to his ear.
“Meet me in the diner, both of you,” he commanded the moment Marcus picked up. Without further explaining, he hung up and tucked his phone back into his pocket.
His feet led the way. Tommy spun around and marched back to where they came from. He could feel the sweat trickling down his head toward his damp neck and chest. Umberto’s steps shuffled behind him.
“Muchacho, you’re scaring me!”
Tommy glanced to his side. “Do you have an extra gun?”
Umberto stopped, and Tommy did as well. The Cuban looked perplexed by his question. “Para qué?”
Yesterday was supposed to be fun for him and Reena. Now, she was missing and held wherever by the witch. But Tommy couldn’t let his impulsivity and intolerance get the best of him. She was demanding that he come. If he’d do that, he should be prepared.
“I know where she is.”
His pace quickened, leaving Umberto still standing in the middle of the road.
~~~~~~~~~~
Dusk painted the sky. The gloomy, dark streets of Little Haiti reeked of the enemy’s presence. Marcus and Leigh stood beside him on the road across from the Haitian neighborhood. The small bungalows looked more ominous at night, shedding no light but two, one from the moon on the clear sky and the other in the middle shack. Tommy felt the gun in the holster, running the pads of his fingers over the cold grip. After breathing a heavy sigh, he began to march forward, and his henchmen followed him.
They entered the old neighborhood’s compound. Dirt covered the grounds of infertile soil and dried plants. Each abandoned house they passed by seemed sentient, containing eyes that followed their path. Toward the center of the compound, Tommy saw the other light source. In the middlemost shack of the area stood a couple of tall, black men wearing purple shirts. Tommy stopped in his tracks, and Marcus and Leigh stilled beside him.
One of the men motioned his hand toward the shack’s front porch.
Tommy lifted his hand and kept his three fingers up and stiff, a sign he always did when he wanted his companions to wait where they were. He moved forward while Marcus and Leigh stayed, exchanging glares with the man who motioned for him to enter. The front porch creaked below his feet. Through the wooden door, he stared, thinking of seeing her behind the barrier once he opened the door.
Clutching and twisting the knob, Tommy pushed the door open. The potent stench of burning herbs and whatnot welcomed him, making the tip of his nose tickle. He hated it. It reminded him of that fucking drink she let him take.
“You no visit me no more, Tommy…”
Poulet walked toward the center of the shack where four wooden chairs, two of them facing him, and a coffee table rested on a worn-out maroon carpet. Beside a pouch and a piece of paper, she placed the tray of steaming cups on the coffee table. Afterward, she retreated and went to one of the chairs. She slowly lowered herself onto the seat, grunting as the bones in her back and hips cracked lightly, until her bum met the surface, making her sigh in relief. Poulet looked over her shoulder and smiled.
“Come in, Tommy,” she said, waving a hand toward the seat. “Long time no see.”
A pulse throbbed in his neck. He looked around the hut, seeing how similar it was to before. She wasn’t seeing Reena. “Where is she?!”
She hummed. “Me tell you an important thing. But first, want some drink?” She tilted her head to the side toward the steaming cups. “Auntie Poulet made dem for you.”
He knew that she was purposely intimidating him, showing him the remnants of his foolishness. Since waking up from the drug, he vowed never to touch a thing that the witch made, and whether he believed in her magic shit was not the question.
“What’s this? Another potion?!”
Poulet grabbed the pouch and the document on the coffee table. “No, no… me no do potions no more…” she tried to assure him. She took one of the cups before retreating to the old, mangled couch.
He hadn’t moved from where he stood.
“Come, sit with your Auntie Poulet.”
Tommy was slowly losing patience. The witch was dragging his time to her nonsense. He wanted to know where Reena was and what she did to her. His heart ached thinking of the could haves. Hesitantly, he walked toward the couch across from the witch. He looked around him, observing for any possibility of a trap, and though he found none, his breath stopped in his throat.
On the couch beside Poulet slouched Reena. She was asleep. Her face was serene and unbothered, so beautiful, even in the dark where he could barely see her.
“Now, Tommy, be a good boy and sit,” Poulet snickered as she reached to her side and touched Reena’s hand.
While glaring at the old woman, Tommy sat down. “What did you do to her?!”
“Auntie Poulet knows she’s a sad, poor girl.”
“I gave you time to leave Vice City,” Tommy said with a stern voice. “Your boys agreed–”
“Me did not.” She lifted the paper in her hand. “Dis paper, some foofoo want me to make dem girl sign for money.”
His brows churned. “What the fuck’s that?”
Poulet appeared to look at the paper as her eyes narrowed. “Transfer of Will…” Poulet snickered, and after staring briefly at the document, she pushed herself up and went to the boiling pot. She put it close to the fire until it caught the blaze. The fire slowly devoured the paper starting from its corner and spreading sideways. The paper turned into ashes as it fell to the floor. “The Don. Hm, mad Italian, just like you.”
Tommy took the chance to go to Reena. He caught her face. “Reena, wake up…”
“Dem girl won’t open her eyes. Juju’s strong.” The witch went back to the coffee table. She took a full cup and walked closer to him. “You care for dem girl, hm? Ready to kill for her?”
“Stay where you are,” he warned.
But Poulet didn’t stop. She even stretched her hand with the drink toward him. Tommy was aware of the kind of drugs she made, and he knew that even its smell could be as efficient as inducing it. Seeing the cup near him and Reena, with the steam reaching his nose, Tommy slapped her hand, spilling the tea on the floor.
“I’m not fucking playing, Poulet!”
The woman watched the cup tumble and roll on the floor. The carpet absorbed some of the liquid while the rest splashed on the wooden pavement. It smelled even more potent, like mint, jasmine, and timber. “Very well…” she said as she wiped her hands on her dress. She opened the pouch she was holding, then she swiftly stepped closer to Tommy, drew what looked like a fistful of dust, and blew the powder into his face.
Dust exploded on his face. There was an instant pain in his gorge, and unable to retaliate, his throat began to throb and tighten.
Poison?! Drugs?! A fucking herb?!
While holding his neck, a coughing fit ensued, and his chest began constricting, making it difficult for him to breathe. In an attempt to unblock his airways from whatever the fuck she’d blown to his face, he tried to cough more aggressively. It felt like something was strangling him, holding his neck with both hands and thumbs tightly pressing into his jugular notch. Tommy fell on his knees, one hand on his throat while the other pressed on the floor, keeping him elevated from fully falling flat.
He peered at Reena. As his eyes blurred, he saw that she began fussing on the couch.
“Me likes you, Tommy, but you work with the foofoos. You took a lot from me and me lovely boys, so I turn to you all de bad stuff.” She raised her hands in the air, eyes rolling onto the back of her head, dead as white as she looked up, shaking.
He crawled toward Reena, but his air passage constricted, forcing him to stop.
“Let cruelty, pain, and evil follow dis man through his days,” her voice thundered in the void as she turned around.
Letting go of his neck, Tommy crouched further onto the floor, drooling and wheezing. As his face pushed onto the wooden surface, his left hand reached for one of the cups on the coffee table and his other hand fumbled for the gun in his belt.
“Curse that he’d be no more happy. Let he be alone tomo–”
The gunshot thundered in the four-cornered walls of the shack. Unable to finish the sentence, Poulet fell to her knees as blood gushed out of her back. Her skirt was soaked with blood. She tried to reach for her wound, but she faltered and rasped as she fell to the floor. In a snap, she turned around again, her sharp, gaping eyes glowering at Tommy.
“T-Tom…” she stuttered and clucked as she tried to speak once more.
He grabbed the armrest of the couch before him and pushed himself up. He could still feel the grain in the back of his throat, but somehow, the warm drink on the coffee table that spilled on his face helped ease the painful itch.
“Enough…” he said as he huffed. “You fucking witch!” He stood, snagged the last full cup of drink, and splashed it on his face. Remnants of the powder stuck on his neck, covering him from his chin down to his chest.
The door to the shack slammed open, and like a bolt, Tommy clutched the pistol and pointed at whoever was standing by the door. Marcus and Leigh raised both of their hands, looking aghast at the state they saw him in. Tommy wiped his forearm on his nose, then he went to Reena, scooping her in his arms. Her face pressed into his damp chest.
Seeing her closer, feeling her warmth, and hearing her breathing were enough to make him feel better.
Tommy glanced back at Poulet. Her face was on the floor, still roiling, and though she looked like toiling, her glare remained stuck at him, sending chills down his spine. Averting his gaze from the Haitian, he turned around and aimed for the exit. What was important now was that he got Reena and she was safe.
As the moonlight shone on his face, however, Poulet called out to him and cried, retching in her jagged breath.
“Y-You’d be alone, Tommy. Dem girl will leave you!”
She wailed… a wail so loud that everything she said right after was unintelligible.
“Boss,” Marcus mumbled. “How’s the miss? Do you need help?!”
“No, I can do this...”
He walked past them while holding Reena tightly, slightly nudging Marcus’s shoulder as he stepped out onto the front porch, inhaling the cold, night air of the abandoned neighborhood. His strained arms throbbed like hell, but it didn’t matter. He pulled her close to his chest.
“Reena, can you hear me?”
She hummed. Her eyes opened very little.
“We’re going home, okay?”
“Boss!” Leigh called out as he pointed at the howling woman in the shack. “What are we gonna do with her?”
“Leave her alone. Let her fuckin’ bleed to death, goddamn it…”
The two Haitians guarding the shack were dead, their lifeless bodies dangling by the elevated deck. No other Haitians waited for them outside. It made him wonder... Poulet knew he’d be arriving. She even prepared drinks for him, but why didn’t she have more men? Why did she face him alone, knowing that he could kill her in just a snap? No matter what kind of drugs she used, Tommy was certain she knew who she was dealing with, but why did she let him come to her shack while she was technically defenseless?
A curse. She cast him a curse that Reena would leave him.
He didn’t believe in black magic. It was just another sick attempt to control and drug him.
Painstakingly, he got in the car with Reena in his arms. He laid her head on his lap, then he took his clothes off, crumpling the suit and the inner shirt together and tossing it toward Leigh.
“Throw them somewhere… or burn them. I don’t want them reaching the estate.”
“Can’t we just wash them, Boss?” Leigh asked.
“Don’t want her Voodoo shit getting close to any of us.”
Marcus jumped behind the wheel while Leigh got in the passenger seat. As soon as the engine roared, Tommy lifted Reena toward his chest, making her feel his warmth against her skin, hoping that it would wake her up. He had to get her some help. If she’d been drugged, she needed it out of her system. He cupped her face and inspected her skin, seeing faint rashes that appeared here and there.
“Claude…”
Tommy stilled. Her voice was too low, but he was sure he heard her right. She said his name. Was she… dreaming about him? Was she still thinking of him?
Poulet said she would leave him.
That couldn’t be true… but what if–
He shook his head vigorously, feeling the pulsating in his temples once again. Tommy pinched the top of his nose, redirecting the pressure to the skin he was intentionally hurting. Even though Reena left him, he shouldn’t complain. He was not forcing her to stay. It was her free will to choose what she wanted to do… to do what was best for her and her child. He shouldn’t be hurt. Heck, he shouldn’t get affected or afraid of the witch’s curse.
But why was he worrying shit?
Reena moved once more, her head turning to his chest. He could feel her lips on his skin – warm and tender – like that of summer air, blowing the thick clouds away that obscured the sky. He watched her as her eyes opened more widely. She seemed to gain consciousness somehow. Reena looked up at him with a tired and confused expression on her face.
“Tommy?” Tears glistened in her eyes in an instant. “Is that you?”
He nodded almost immediately, forcing a smile to his lips.
“She-she made me take something–”
“It’s okay, we’re going to the hospital and get you cleaned up.”
“I don’t know why I took it, I’m s-sorry–”
“Reena, it’s not your fucking fault, okay? Relax. You’ll be okay. Marcus–” he called out, staring at the henchman through the rearview mirror. “West Haven, that’s the quickest.”
“Yes, Boss.”
“And Leigh, call Umberto.”
“Got it, Boss.”
Touching her face once again, Tommy brushed his thumb over the tears on her cheeks, slowly wiping the smears on her face. The longer he looked at her and she did at him, however, the more his rage and troubles faded. Unable to stop himself, Tommy leaned forward and planted a kiss on her forehead.
“You’ll be alright,” he assured her, and he tightened his embrace around her feeble body.
She couldn’t leave him. He wouldn’t give her reasons to.
Notes:
Life's been busy but good lately! I binged read and watched a novel-turned-series, and I fucking love it! I can't wait for the Season 2 T_T
I hope you're doing well. How are you now?
P.S. To the guest that left me another kudos, you rock and rock and rock! Damn, you're awesome!!!
Thank you so much for reading! <3
Chapter 30: Mind Games
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
REENA WAS CURLING on her side, peacefully sleeping on the couch in the sitting room with a pillow between her legs. Tommy and Umberto, although surprised, carefully entered, the latter holding a bouquet of pink and white roses.
“Think I should just go back?” Umberto whispered, pausing by the doorway. He didn’t take a step further.
Tommy carefully tiptoed across the room to get to Mrs. Hubbard and Cleo, but the itch in his throat emerged, causing him to cough. The effort he exerted to keep Reena from waking up failed. She slowly opened her eyes and caught him sneaking. She smiled and attempted to sit down, and instead of going straight to Cleo, Tommy veered in her direction and helped her up, putting the pillow behind her back just like she did when he came home beaten up.
“I’m just checking up on Cleo… and you,” he teased as he cleared his throat. He aimed to leave, but Reena grabbed his wrist. In an instant, he stopped, glancing back at her in surprise. She was looking up at him with imploring eyes, and though she wasn’t saying a word, he understood that she wanted him to stay.
So, he did. He sat beside her on the couch, then waved a hand at Umberto to come in. She leaned on the pillow against the backrest while wincing now and then, seemingly in a bit of pain.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to fall asleep here…”
“It’s okay.” He snickered, then glanced at Umberto. “My friend came to introduce himself.”
The usual confidence Umberto had whenever he faced a woman was surprisingly non-existent now. The Cuban slowly approached, stooped a little, and stuck out his hand with the bouquet. “Mi nombre es Umberto Robina, señorita. ¿Te sientes bien?”
Reena looked at him with an uncertain smile. “I-I’m sorry, Mr. Robina–”
“Umberto,” he said, handing her over the bouquet. “Just call me Umberto. These flowers are for you. In fact, Tommy bought them and just asked me to–”
“What Umberto means is…” Tommy interrupted and wedged on his seat, taking the bouquet and giving it to her, “he doesn’t know how to choose flowers so I helped him.”
Damn you, Umberto. He couldn’t look Reena in the eyes after what he said. Umberto just smiled snidely while briefly glancing at him. His throat itched once more. It seemed like the powder that Poulet blew to his face still had remnants in him.
She took the flowers and put them close to her nose. “They’re lovely. Thank you, both of you.”
Tommy motioned for Mrs. Hubbard to come close. The old woman transferred the boy to his arms. “Can you make her some tea?”
“Sure, Mr. Vercetti. What about you and Mr. Robina?”
“We’ll drink–” He paused, then he looked at Reena. Her lips were pursed. She’d expressed her wishes before for him to drink less. He didn’t want to disappoint her, not even a bit, not now.
“Do you want me to prepare something from the shelf in your office?”
“We’ll have juice, Mrs. Hubbard. Iced tea would do–”
“Amigo!” the Cuban hollered. “Umberto Robina doesn’t drink juice–”
Tommy threw him a stop-or-you’re-fucking-dead glare, and Umberto ceded. He just bowed slightly, beamed with forced enthusiasm, and gestured to Tommy that he was heading to his office.
Mrs. Hubbard cleared her throat. “I’ll also bring the ointment so Reena can wipe it on her stomach.”
He didn’t know what ointment that was but Tommy nodded. He might need it for his throat as well.
As soon as Umberto and Mrs. Hubbard left, he leaned closer to Reena’s side, putting Cleo in her arms. “I know you miss him,” he said as he watched her caress the baby’s cheeks. Cleo was cooing softly and looking up at her. His little hand lifted to her chin, making her giggle.
“Thank you,” she answered. “I wish my fever would go so I could get back and take care of him…”
Little red spots lingered on her arms, neck, and chest. A few were on her face, making her cheeks redder. When they brought her to the hospital, the doctor mentioned that she must have induced a certain kind of substance that she was allergic to. They needed to pump her stomach and connect her to an IV drip to purge the substance. It manifested through rashes, constant pain in the stomach, and an on-and-off fever that had been going on for days.
He was luckier with just a scratchy throat.
By some means, she was getting better, but her stomach would still ache from time to time. She was advised to take rest, which included refraining from carrying heavy objects. And Cleo was a heavy boy for an almost four-month-old baby, which meant she couldn’t do what she always did – carrying Cleo all around, non-stop, all day long.
Reena loved the boy so much. Perhaps, the thought of him shook her out of the stupor she was in when Tommy found her in an abandoned shack, slumping on the seat, sweating, slavering…
It was his fault. He shouldn’t have left her.
Umberto said they were a different kind of jujus. In the factory, they found that the Haitians were mixing drugs to form something stronger than Spank. Whatever they used on it, it couldn’t be found in Vice City. Imported from somewhere. A smuggled good.
“I remember now what happened…” she mumbled all of a sudden.
Cleo started squirming in her limbs, and he thought it would be better if she’d lay the boy on the cushion. He moved away a little from her, much to his dismay, and carefully motioned for Cleo to be put down on the cushion. She carefully inclined to her side and snuggled the boy between them.
“What do you remember?” He tried not to be overly pushy. He wanted her to tell what she could recall. Eventually, she’d recognize everything that happened, but the beginning of the memory’s resurgence was often the worst.
“When I saw her, she was with two men.” She placed her hand on Cleo’s thigh, caressing the baby with tender strokes. “There’s a scent… strange smell coming everywhere, and whenever I smell it, my head just gets light and I feel confused.”
Reena brushed her hair with her fingers, seemingly massaging her scalp. Tommy was familiar with that sensation. He remembered himself often rubbing his temples and kneading his scruff after he started recalling what the witch did to him.
“She told me something… strange.” She shook her head as she looked blankly ahead. “She said, someone’s lying to me...”
Tommy stiffened. “Do you remember what happened to you in the shack?”
“Not a lot,” she responded with squinting eyes. “They covered my face with a cloth. I got giddy. I think… I think she forced me to take the candy, it was the same candy I had from the girl.”
“Did she tell you what it was?”
“No… she didn’t.” Her face churned as she shut her eyes. “But I remembered her touching my hand, saying she could read my… palm? I’m not sure.”
The witch did that to him too. Tommy thought it was just tea that she offered, but he couldn’t have been more wrong. She took his hand while he was seeing distorted images, and then she said that he was going to be powerful if he followed everything she said. Tommy guessed that probably that time, he believed Poulet. Under her spell, Tommy retrieved drugs for her while putting his life on the line as VCPD chased him. He also blew up Umberto’s boats and killed some of his men. In the gang war that the Cubans and Haitians got into, Tommy was hiding at the top of a building, sniping Umberto’s men.
It was so shit that when he woke up from the daze, he did nothing but throw up the following day for a whole day.
“She told me… that she pities me, and she doesn’t want to be in my place.”
Tommy felt his heartbeat quicken. Carefully, he turned his head in her direction, examining the expression on her face. Her brows were knitted at the center and her lips were twitching like she was trying to recall more. He held his breath, waiting for her to say something, but Reena shook her head once again and touched her forehead.
“I know she’s messing with my mind,” she said in utter frustration. “I shouldn’t have listened to her or come with her.”
It was as if a thorn had been plucked from his chest, or a dagger’s blade was lifted from the skin of his neck… that was the kind of relief he felt after Reena dismissed everything that the witch told her. Of course, he didn’t believe fortunetelling, but it irked him a lot that Poulet was probably aware of something she wasn’t supposed to know.
“Tommy, I don’t trust myself going out anymore. It feels like… every new person I meet’s a step closer to danger or something.”
His heart sank. “Do you feel unsafe here?”
Reena immediately shook her head. “No… no… It’s not, it’s not what I mean,” she retorted apologetically, lowering her head into a slight bow. “I’m sorry, I know you wanna keep us away from these things, but even you didn’t know she was here, right?”
That was true. If he hadn’t seen the witch talking to her in the department store, he would’ve never discovered that she was still in Vice City. After the gang war years ago, he returned to Poulet’s shack, asking her to leave the metropolis if she didn’t want to be hurt. The Haitians got weak after they lost several men, forcing Poulet to surrender Little Haiti to Umberto.
Since then, she disappeared on the face of Vice City… until recently.
He nodded, trying to accept that it wasn’t his fault she was getting targeted. However, Tommy knew deep inside that the attempts to get close to Reena were more or less directly and indirectly because of him.
“Just like I promised you,” he whispered, “I’ll be protecting you and Cleo for as long as I can.” Maybe, even beyond death. He wanted to reach out for her hand, to grab it, to press it in his chest and kiss the back of it, but he stopped himself.
A shy beam appeared on her lips. It was so faint yet so beautiful, and he wished to see that beautiful smile every day of his life.
Looking down at Cleo, he saw the little boy’s eyes transfixed on him.
I won’t be failing you and your mother.
“Tommy, I promise to repay all your kindness…”
He lifted his eyes at Reena and found her staring at the boy as well. When she seemed to notice he was looking, she glanced up at him too. Her hazel eyes sparked as they met his. Mesmerizing. Tommy could never get tired of staring at her. She, on the other hand, looked as if she was perplexed, surprised by the intent gaze he was wearing.
That was the same expression she wore on her face that night in the Waterview.
My… distraction?
“Here’s your tea!” Mrs. Hubbard’s voice suddenly broke off the moment, urging Tommy to avert his eyes from Reena. He looked up at Mrs. Hubbard, and it seemed like the old woman realized what she disrupted, curling her lips downward in a rueful way. She placed the tray of newly-brewed tea on the coffee table, clanking as it touched the glass.
Clearing his throat, Tommy slid forward and grabbed the teapot and a cup. “With sugar?” he asked, briefly glancing back at her. He couldn’t fully turn, and he didn’t know why.
“Y-Yes, please… Isn’t Umberto waiting for you–”
“He can get a drink for himself. Don’t worry about him.”
He poured hot tea into the cup, the liquid steaming as it filled the ceramic. Tommy could feel his hands trembling, struggling to keep them steady. Why was he shaking? Was the teapot heavy? Was the cup too hot? Or was he feeling so fucking nervous again?
Tommy put the teapot back onto the tray and proceeded to hand her over the tea. Reena reached out for it with both hands, and accidentally, her fingers brushed on his. Her eyes immediately shot up and gaped, and he likewise found himself with his mouth slightly opened. His eyes fell on her candle-like fingers.
“Thank you, Tommy,” she said, lifting the cup to her lips. While she sipped, she peered over it, looking at him with a flushed face.
She was blushing. Why was she acting so strange? Was she feeling… the same?
“Reena,” he muttered under his breath. He couldn’t take it anymore. “I want to… I want to tell you something–”
“Amigo!”
For fuck’s sake, why now?! Tommy couldn’t help but roll his eyes toward Umberto, seeing him standing with two bottles of unopened bourbon in his hands. “What the f–, what are you doing?”
“Oh, I can’t pick!” he hollered. “Which one should I open, this or this?!”
Tommy was teeming in frustration when he heard Reena chuckling beside him. In her left hand was the cup of tea she barely held properly while her other hand was covering her mouth. Her shoulders and chest moved up and down, and the way her eyes narrowed and her face roiled showed how amused she was with Umberto’s display of folly. It didn’t take long for her to fully burst into a peal of laughter that she struggled to hold in the first place.
His heart swelled. The ire he felt was replaced by delight in seeing her laugh.
“I’m sorry,” she said, brushing a finger underneath her teary eyes. “Please, whichever bottle you open, I want to have a shot…”
A drink with us?
“Are you sure? Won’t your stomach hurt?”
Reena put the cup of tea back on the table, then she picked up Cleo from her side, kissed the boy on his cheek, and gave him back to Mrs. Hubbard. The old woman hurriedly took the baby from her hold.
“It’s a sacrifice I’m willing to make,” she said with a huge smile on her face.
“Ah, Tommy! I like this girl! Adventurous!”
“Am I?!”
Who was he to refuse? Surrendering to her request, Tommy tilted his head and motioned for Umberto to come and sit with them. “Teacups for the shots?”
“I’ll be French kissing this bottle!”
As Reena laughed aloud once again, Tommy grabbed the other bottle of bourbon, poured plenty for her and himself, and gave her the other cup while gazing at her sweet serenity…
Notes:
This is an implied reference to Juju Scramble, Bomb’s Away, and Dirty Lickin’s (GTA Vice City).
Thank you so much for reading <3
Chapter 31: The Colonel
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
REENA GATHERED THE strands of her hair and tied them into a bun. She remembered what Maria told her about keeping her hair tied. Besides, she needed to keep them off her face as she and Mrs. Hubbard began preparing for lunch. The old woman insisted that she should rest, but the stubbornness in her didn’t want to stay in bed all day doing nothing. Besides, since yesterday, her fever had not returned. The medicines she was taking helped her recover quickly, and whatever drug she’d taken must have been fully purged from her body. If she couldn’t take care of Cleo, then she should at least be moving and working around the house for reasons only she knew.
Sometimes, she wondered why the Juju woman took her. Reena had been pondering so hard how she played in her mind, and the hallucinations… but her knowledge of her past was the one that bothered her the most. How did she know about her pain? How did she know she was still mourning for him? How did she know that she wanted to die?
To this day, she couldn’t explain, but Tommy told her not to worry at all, so she shouldn’t anymore. She had to be strong for Cleo.
Mrs. Hubbard and Marcus bought fresh meat from the wet market, securing her request to have beef. Reena planned on making a stew. Tommy’s cough still hadn’t gotten away.
She removed the carrots and potatoes from the paper bag, putting them directly into a colander in the sink. Letting the water flow to clean the vegetables, Reena retrieved white onions and garlic cloves from the fridge. She arranged them all on the counter along with the condiments and other ingredients she asked Mrs. Hubbard to purchase.
Turning off the faucet, she grabbed the root crops and peeled their skins off, carefully sliding the blade along the surface of the vegetable. Mrs. Hubbard stood beside her and grabbed a carrot, helping her skin them faster.
“Mrs. Hubbard, where’s Cleo?” she asked while glancing to her side.
“He’s in the living room, dear,” the old woman answered softly. “Don’t worry, Marcus is watching him.”
Reena found herself smiling. She knew that it was never Marcus’s or Leigh’s duty to help her with Cleo, but the two always lent a hand whenever she needed more. Never had she thought they would be fond of a kid, or maybe they were just kind to Cleo because of Tommy, but whatever the reason, she was thankful they were there to assist.
“We gotta hurry, I don’t want Marcus to get tired watching Cleo.”
Reena placed the chunks of beef into a huge bowl and sprinkled flour, salt, and pepper into them, coating each generously with the mixed powders. Mrs. Hubbard turned the stove on as she settled a Dutch oven atop, putting a dash of olive oil. Once smoldering, Reena used thongs to sear the beef chunks, allowing time for them to brown while carefully watching them not to burn. As she did, Mrs. Hubbard sliced the vegetables needed for the stew.
The smell of the sizzling meat filled the kitchen, making Reena’s stomach rumble a bit. She carefully flipped the chunks in the pot, tolerating the little streaks of hot oil that were expelled by the meat hitting her skin. Leigh happened to pass by the kitchen and he stopped at the doorway, lifting his head as he inhaled the meaty whiff.
“That smells fantastic, Miss Reena. Boss’s gonna like that!”
“We’re not cooking just for your boss, Leigh,” she retorted but with a smile. “I hope you’re up for a stew.”
Leigh’s face lit up as if he’d been granted a wish. “Really?”
She wondered how long these men had yearned for home-cooked meals before she and Mrs. Hubbard came, but even she yearned for one because it had been a long time since she cooked for herself.
Marcus suddenly appeared behind Leigh, and just like his brother, he was enticed by the smell coming out of the kitchen. He poked his head into the kitchen door and inhaled with a bright smile on his face. Yet, as much as Reena was pleased to see them both looking forward to the meal she and Mrs. Hubbard were preparing, she remembered that it was Marcus who was supposedly watching over Cleo in the sitting room.
Mrs. Hubbard put a hand on her waist while holding a ladle in the other. “Marcus, aren’t you supposed to be with Cleo?” The old woman frowned as she stared at the two by the doorway.
“Don’t worry old mama,” he said, scratching his head. “The boss is with him!”
The old woman flushed. “What did you just call me?!”
“Old mama?” Leigh repeated with a grin.
In an instant, Mrs. Hubbard charged at them while lifting the ladle. “You two never ceased to annoy me!”
Marcus and Leigh laughed aloud as they ran around the kitchen while Mrs. Hubbard chased them. For a moment, Reena feared that she would hurt herself, but later on, she burst into a peal of laughter as she watched the two tough men cower as Mrs. Hubbard – the old mama – stomped their heads with the oily dipper's bowl.
“Why don’t you tell the miss what you call her behind her back?!” Mrs. Hubbard harrumphed as she pulled Leigh’s ear. The big man howled in pain but did not resist.
Reena shook her head while chuckling. She took the thongs, slowly removed the seared chunks from the pot, and carefully set them in a bowl. With her attention caught, she glanced at the three on the other end of the kitchen.
“So, what do you call me? Something along the mama line?”
The two men looked at each other as if they were embarrassed, and seeing their reaction, Mrs. Hubbard suddenly roared in triumph. “Hah! I knew it! You can’t tell her, can you?”
Filling the pot with water, Reena’s eyes squinted. She set the Dutch oven back on the stove and used a wooden spoon to scrape its bottom, loosening the brown bits. “So,” she mumbled, putting the onion, garlic, and condiments into the mixture, “what do you call me?” She spun on her heels and faced Marcus and Leigh. They looked nervous, nudging each other’s arms as if passing on the responsibility of who was going to answer her question.
“Well, she’s waiting!” Mrs. Hubbard taunted as she approached the stove once again, getting the bowl of seared beef and putting the chunks back into the pot. She turned up the fire and put the lid on.
Reena looked back and forth between Marcus and Leigh, waiting patiently for their answer. Truth be told, it didn’t matter, and she would just probably laugh it off, whatever it was. However, their actions were telling her that whatever they called her behind her back was a top secret. If it was just as simple as an old mama, they would have already told her, wouldn’t they?
She stepped forward, leaning on the island in the middle of the kitchen that separated her and the two. Reena couldn’t deny it anymore that she was curious and eager to know. “Marcus,” she said, “Leigh,” she continued, “what do you call me when I’m not around?”
Leigh seemed to swallow hard, while Marcus’s forehead began glistening with sweat. “Miss Reena, do you promise not to tell Boss?” he pleaded, looking at his brother to his side.
Tommy? Was it too serious that he couldn’t know? Unless, it was something offensive, which she herself could forgive, understanding that it was an inside joke among the men that Mrs. Hubbard probably had overheard. She nodded with her mouth slightly parted. “Yeah, I won’t tell him. So, what is it?”
Marcus pushed Leigh forward, giving him the inevitable task to answer. He started tugging the hems of his shirt downward, straightening his clothes, though Reena felt he was unconsciously doing it because he was utterly nervous.
“We… we call you–” Leigh took one last glance at Marcus behind him, and the latter jerked a nod. “We call you Mrs. Vercetti.”
Reena felt herself blush, the warmth in her chest spreading like waves in her body. She didn’t notice that her mouth gaped wider, consciously shutting it while clearing her throat. As shame overwhelmed her, she bit her lip, peering at Marcus and Leigh who both looked at her with worried gazes.
“Boss told us never to call you that when you’re around,” Leigh explained, “but he never corrected us when we do.”
“I think Boss likes us to call you that, Miss Reena.”
The pot behind her began to boil as the lid of the Dutch oven shook. Mrs. Hubbard rushed back and turned down the fire.
She didn’t know why but Reena felt as if she was getting small. It was not offensive or bad, not even a bit, but it just astonished her how they were calling her in front of Tommy, and he never protested? Maybe he knew it was just a joke, or perhaps, it was a waste of time and energy to correct such a silly name. But why did Marcus and Leigh look as if Tommy was going to kill them if they told her, even pleading with her not to tell him that she knew?
Was it because… he liked to call her that too?
A friend. Reena’s heart thumped in her chest. We’re just friends. Whatever they were calling her and regardless of Tommy’s reasons for letting them, it was nothing but a simple joke.
Not wanting Marcus and Leigh to see her embarrassment, Reena mustered back her composure, pushing the thoughts to the back of her mind. “We’ll be done in an hour. I’ll call you when the food’s ready.”
TOMMY CARRIED THE sleeping boy in his left arm as he entered the office. While he swayed Cleo lightly, he grabbed the bottle of brandy on the side and poured himself a drink. As carefully as he could, he drained the shot glass in one gulp, washing away whatever scratch he still had in his throat. Marcus told him that Reena was in the kitchen with Mrs. Hubbard, preparing some food for them. He smiled to himself, then he looked at the boy, kissing him briefly on the forehead.
How lucky he must be right now.
He sat and leaned on the backrest of the swivel chair, turning around and facing the huge windows. The mood hid behind the clouds, but the sky was still clear, twinkling stars on a cool evening. Everything seemed to be in its right place, and even though he still had some situations to deal with, just like the Haitians recently, Tommy felt rather living a different life.
Taking a deep breath, Tommy closed his eyes, feeling the silence all around save for Cleo’s soft breathing. He put a hand on Cleo’s back, rubbing it in circles, and as soon as he did, the door to his office creaked open. Thinking it was Reena, he smiled as he spun again, ready to meet her with the surprise of Cleo sleeping in his arms. However, instead of giving the surprise, he was caught off guard to see Colonel Juan Cortez standing before the desk.
His eyes blinked in confusion. “Colonel?!”
“Thomas,” Juan Cortez greeted. “I’ve been trying to call you but you’re not answering.” His gaze fell on Cleo, and Tommy saw his eyes askew. “I’ve heard about the Haitians. Are they pestering you again?”
He sighed. Perhaps, the news about the Haitians’ return spread like wildfire and reached the colonel in his yacht floating in the Marina… or maybe, Umberto told him. Tommy didn’t have time for graces, especially now that he was dreading talking to him after his last conversation with Mercedes, which he surmised the colonel already knew.
“I’ve got it under control, colonel.” Gathering the strength to continue talking while he intended to end the meeting as swiftly as he could, Tommy looked up at him and pursed his lips. “Why are you here? Is there something I can do for you?”
The colonel took a deep breath. “Very well. I want to speak to you about Mercedes.”
Tommy was right. “What about her?” he asked as nonchalantly as he could.
“My daughter, she was distraught. She said she couldn’t go here anymore,” the colonel said, face stern and stiff. “Is it true that you told my Caramia not to come here unless she was invited?”
Tommy stood and scratched his head while he tightened his embrace around Cleo, making sure that the boy wouldn’t be disturbed by his sudden movements. “Colonel, I… we’ve talked, and she’s fine,” he retorted, waving a hand to his side. “I don’t think she’s that dismayed. We’re… we’re not together in the first place.”
“My friend, you must understand…” The colonel approached, seemingly disappointed. “I trust you with my daughter. I treat you like a son, Thomas. I don’t mind if you really become one.”
He was pushing it again. The colonel always told him how much he’d seen his young self in him – fierce and courageous. He was everything that Juan Cortez could ever dream of to be his daughter’s lifetime partner. Since he came to Vice City, he and Mercedes were inseparable, and the colonel even asked him before to look after her while he was away.
It was a mistake. Perhaps, it was his fault too that he kept the man’s hopes up.
“Please, Colonel,” Tommy mumbled. He couldn’t believe that the old man was still living in his illusion of him and Mercedes getting together. “Just respect our decision. She’s old enough. Your daughter’s beautiful, she’s gonna find someone else–”
“You’re leaving her for who? A child?” The colonel moved closer and pointed at Cleo. Then, his face riddled with fine lines that marked his notable experiences as a diplomat defined more his ominous expression. “A widow?!”
The last word rang painfully in his ears, and he didn’t like the way the old man looked at the boy in his arms. He couldn’t understand why the colonel would just barge into his office, ask invasive and offensive questions, and insinuate undesirable things about Reena and Cleo. Juan Cortez knew nothing, and it irked him how he was addressing Reena.
“She’s not a widow,” he countered with clenching teeth.
Juan Cortez’s lips twisted to the side. For a moment, Tommy thought he was snickering, but then he realized his cheek was twitching. “So what do you call that?” He waved for another time at the boy. “A son with a father who’d gone missing?!”
“Can you just–” Tommy wanted to holler, but he realized that aside from it was nonsense arguing against an old man, Cleo was still fast asleep on his shoulder. “You need to leave, Colonel. I’ve no time for this–”
The door rasped, urging him and the colonel to look in its direction. Reena was standing there, holding a tray of a steaming bowl. She looked at him palpably afraid, and then at the colonel. Juan Cortez stared back at her with daunting glares, making her avert her gaze and look back at Tommy.
“I-I’m sorry, I don’t know you have a visitor,” she muttered, cheeks reddening. It looked like she wanted to disappear from her spot as she couldn’t keep straight eye contact.
Wiping his face with his hands, he walked toward the colonel and touched his back, briefly pushing him to the exit. “My visitor’s leaving, by the way,” he said, then he faced Juan Cortez, returning the same, formidable glowers he gave Reena. “Right, Colonel?”
Juan Cortez seemed to brace, lifting his chin like he was shamed but wanting to remain mighty and proud. His eyes had not softened, and from Tommy, he shifted his stare at Reena, flashing a smile on his mouth that Tommy knew he was feigning.
“I remember you,” the colonel said. “You’re Serena Lane.”
“Y-Yes, I am. Have we… met before?”
“We were introduced to each other last year at Thomas’ birthday party here on the estate,” the colonel explained. He put his hands together at his back. “I’m Colonel Juan Cortez, Mercedes’s father. I’m sorry to hear about what happened to your partner. It must’ve been difficult not to hear anything of his whereabouts.”
The tray in her hands trembled. Tommy glowered at the colonel, but the latter kept his eyes on Reena, deliberately ignoring him. He knew that Juan Cortez was dragging the time, buying himself more minutes to stay on the estate, to scrutinize. When he was about to force him out of the office, Cleo started cooing and moving. Tommy looked at the boy on his shoulder who briefly lifted his head and opened his eyes, ascertaining that he was already awake.
“I see that the child needs your attention.” Juan Cortez nodded firmly at Tommy, then at Reena. “Don’t worry. Thomas is a good host. He and your partner had been friends for a long time. He’d help you and your son with whatever you need.” He grinned, then he walked out of the office without saying another word.
Silence engulfed them. Even though the colonel had left, Reena hadn’t taken her eyes off the door. Tommy thought his heart was going to burst. He was fucking sure that Juan Cortez meant to do that.
Reena turned toward him, forcing a smile, then she laid the tray on the coffee table as if nothing happened. “I-I brought you some stew. I heard you coughing, so I figured you need soup…”
Tommy couldn’t stop himself. “I’m sorry, I didn’t expect him to say that–”
“Hey, it’s okay…” She walked toward him and reached out for Cleo. “It’s not your fault.”
He transferred the boy into her arms, and while he did, he scanned Reena’s face, trying to read what she was thinking about. There was nothing, or had she been good at hiding it? Not wanting her to catch him staring at her face, Tommy glanced at the stew on the table and beamed.
“Did you hear anything?” he asked, fearing that she might have heard his conversation with the colonel.
She shook her head, her gaze filled with questions. “No, I just… came. Should I… not? I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to intrude.”
“No, it’s… it’s totally fine.” Sighing a big relief, he grinned and touched her arm. “I’ll take the tray, and let’s eat together downstairs, shall we? I’m starving, and it looks delicious…”
She smiled, and though it was faint, it was the answer he needed. He always felt peace whenever she did. The tranquility in his tumultuous moments. His happiness. His distraction.
Tommy didn’t care what Colonel Juan Cortez or the others would say. No matter the discouragement, disagreement, or curse, no one could ever convince him to stay away from her…
Notes:
Thank you so much for reading! <3
Chapter 32: Empty Threats?
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
REPORTS AFTER ANOTHER, transactions to attend to before the end of the day. Marcus had a long day ahead as Tommy brought him along to all the places he aimed to visit. After laying low for a while following the incident with the Juju woman and an unexpected visit from a delusional man (that was not followed up anymore, thankfully), Tommy thought it was a must to see if there were other issues in his assets so that nothing like what happened to the Haitians would ever happen again.
Tommy entered the Cherry Popper Ice Cream Factory, seeing that the building was desolated, as usual, except for a couple of bearded men wearing shirts and aprons with candy cane designs. They headed to a couple of ice cream trucks and drove it out of the garage, honking at him before they exited the gate. He waved a hand, and while he walked around to check the building’s condition, he saw an old woman standing by the storage. He sighed, approaching slowly so as not to jump her, and cleared his throat as loud as he could so she could hear him coming.
The old lady turned around, her eyes squinting beneath the thick eyeglasses she wore. Her posture – her poor back – had become more bent since Tommy last saw her. She struck the tip of her cane on the ground as she came close, trying to recognize him from a few feet away only to scowl when she realized who he was followed by a loud, mocking chuckle.
“I thought you’d no plans of coming back,” she jeered, the wrinkles on her face seemed to double compared to the last time he’d seen her. Skin dried, creasing, and limbs shook with every move. But, beneath her physical vulnerability was a daunting impression, her repulsion nourished by constant hatred of the world.
“Nice to see you again, Maude,” he grumbled and smiled a bit.
Maude Hanson, an 80-something-year-old lady, was once the owner of the factory. When Tommy purchased Cherry Popper in 1995, she immediately showed him her great distaste for children and babies, which totally confused Tommy. He asked her why she was selling ice cream and sweets if she hated kids, and she mocked him for his innocence, revealing that the soft ice cream was just a façade of what the factory was really distributing – drugs.
So, when he reopened the business, he used it for its original purpose. With the help of Umberto and the Los Cabrones, Tommy distributed his product around Vice City, including Spank after he obtained it, through the Cherry Popper trucks. Ice cream seller in the day; a drug distributor at night.
Now that Maude was getting older, Tommy didn’t expect to see her coming to the factory still. His initial reaction whenever he’d see her was a big sigh and a whisper “Here we go again.”
However, despite his uncertainty toward the woman, he couldn’t help but pity her. The senile lady had nothing to do, no family, no one to spend time with, so she was wasting everybody’s time in the factory, commanding them what to do, berating each that stood up to her like she was the boss.
“I’m just dropping by to see how our business is doing,” he explained gently as he looked around the hollow ceilings.
“Well, what do you expect?” Her face pouted in disgust while flailing her cane. “The Cuban always goes here and pesters me!”
“You mean, Umberto?”
“Yeah, that dirty, stinking, sniveling, vile, puking, crying little baby!” she mewled, imitating the face of a crying child.
Tommy laughed. Despite old age and her advancing dementia, Maude had never forgotten her hatred for small beings.
“Okay, I guess everything’s fine here,” he remarked, shaking his head. “You need anything, Maude? Perhaps, a break?”
“No, no… why would I need a break? Tell Umberto not to come here anymore or I’ll break his neck!”
“Alright,” Tommy conceded while raising his hands. He did not want to argue with the old woman anymore. He worried that if she kept on yelling, a blood vessel somewhere in her scruff or head would pop and cause her aneurysm or stroke. “I’ll tell him to be gentler. Call me when you need anything. I gotta go–”
“I heard you have a son,” Maude muttered, looking at him quite ferociously. “Is it true?!”
Surprised, Tommy’s mouth slightly gaped, wondering where the hell she learned about Cleo. Did Umberto tell her? And why would she care? Puckering his lips, he nodded. “Yes, Miss Hanson. I’ve got a kid.”
How freely could he claim it when Reena wasn’t around…
“Then good!” the old woman exclaimed, poking her cane at his chest and making him step back a little. “Your turn now to see what I mean, bad luck! Now, go! I don’t want you fouling this factory!”
He was caught by surprise, unexpecting Maude Hanson, the woman who hated children, to rather approve his admission of having one. Instead of getting pissed, Tommy laughed amusingly, waving goodbye as he turned around to leave. Upon nearing the exit and seeing Marcus outside, all he could do was shake his head and smile to himself.
~~~~~~~~~~
Yellow cabs with black arrow markings lined up the front of a small blocked depot in Little Haiti. Drivers in random colored polo shirts and beige ascot caps came in and out of the garage. Marcus parked at the corner of the yard near the entrance to the building. When Tommy got out of the car, one of the drivers smiled and greeted him, seemingly happy to see him once again.
“Good day, Boss! Long time no see!”
“You, too, Ted!” He waved a hand as he entered the depot. He went straight to the slightly elevated office at the center where he found another old lady seated behind a desk.
“Oh, goodness! Finally, you’ve come!” she exclaimed upon seeing him, standing and pulling him for an embrace.
He almost tumbled, shocked by the strength of her arms, unable to unlatch himself from her limbs. Her arms were wrapped around his neck and he felt himself getting smothered.
“Doris, I didn’t know you miss me that much…”
The Kaufman Cabs lady was a little younger than Maude Hanson, and Tommy found it rather easier to deal with her. However, the only catch was that her sharp mind was too aggravating that she’d decide for the company even without asking for Tommy’s permission anymore. Years of being under different organized gangs had roughed her, so when Tommy purchased the depot, she was caught off-guard by the kind of management he had. Unlike the previous owners who used to beat the drivers, Tommy never did any of that. Instead, he took care of the rivals just as he promised when he met Doris the first time.
“Well, Mr. Vercetti, VC Cabs seemed to lie low. Moderate road rage against some, but unlike before,” she reported as she gave him a new list of the drivers.
“Looks like Ted’s gonna be retiring next year.”
“He’s old. He has to.”
“And you?”
Doris snickered. “You’re so eager to get rid of me.”
Not that he wanted to, of course, but like Maude, Doris was also getting old. She was already past her retirement age, and in years, it had become more difficult for Tommy to have elderlies in his businesses. However, he didn’t want to force them to leave. Besides, if he’d do it to Maude Hanson and Doris, he had to do it with Earnest Kelly too. So, for as long as they wanted, they could stay until they just decided to retire themselves.
He chuckled and draped his arm around her shoulder, nudging her a bit. “Just like I said before, you can die here if you like.”
“You wish,” she teased, pushing him away from her body. “Maybe you’ll die earlier than me!”
“If I did, who’d take care of the rivals, then?” he probed, raising an eyebrow. He knew it was Doris’s weakness. She didn’t like other taxi operators shitting on Kaufman Cabs, and whenever they did, it was always Tommy that she’d run to for help.
“Then, don’t die!” she yelped, eyes gawking as if they were coming out of her skull.
They laughed, Doris almost teary-eyed, and Tommy was now sure that she did miss him.
Taking a final look around the depot, he pursed his lips and turned to Doris. “I gotta go now. Make sure you call me when VC Cabs gets in our ass again.” He patted her shoulder lightly and turned around, but before he could even step out of the office, she cleared her throat.
“Mr. Vercetti,” Doris called out, leaning on the backrest of her seat with a silly look on her face. “Is it true that I heard you have a wife now?”
Tommy felt his heart thump in his chest, first slowly, and then it took the pace, like a beast that wanted to tear his ribcage apart to escape his bosom. In Cherry Popper, Maude Hanson asked him about having a child to which he admitted. Now, Doris was asking him about having a wife. Rumors… they were so fast that even lightning couldn’t cope with them.
Wishing it were true and he could say yes, Tommy could only shake his head in response. “N-No, Doris. Not yet,” he answered, forcing a smile on his face. “But I… I hope.”
He couldn’t stop it. It was as if no matter how he tried to keep it to himself, he would be smiling deep inside, warmth spreading in his chest, and his heart jumping for joy. If he could just jump as well, he would have, but he knew he would look pathetic in front of Doris.
The woman seemed to read what he was thinking about. She sneered, tilting her head to the side. “Well then, what are you waiting for?” Her hand landed on his arm and she shoved him out of the office. “You’re not getting any younger, Mr. Vercetti...”
REENA LAUGHED AT Cleo while he babbled, blowing bubbles of drool from his mouth. Mrs. Hubbard came rushing downstairs, shouting for her name as she excitedly showed the little boy’s new tricks. The more she giggled, the more Cleo repeated the action, making bigger bubbles, sprinkling more saliva, and creating more noises that filled the sitting room with joy.
He’d learned to respond to his name. Whenever Reena called him in a sweet, high-pitched sound, the little boy would turn his head in her direction. Often, he would just look at her, but sometimes, he would smile, his toothless gums peering from the gap of his pouty, little mouth.
“Cleo!” she called, making the same, high-pitched sound that always caught his attention. The boy turned his head toward her and smiled, and her heart jumped in glee. From her chest, she lifted her hands to her face, cupping them above her eyes, and after a couple of seconds, she lifted them and exclaimed, “Boo!”
The little boy burst into a peal of laughter.
“Hah! He likes it!” Mrs. Hubbard blurted out, trying the trick on her own. She put her hands over her eyes and went closer to the boy, but when she removed them and exclaimed, “Boo!” Cleo did not even flinch or react.
Reena looked at his son bewilderingly while Mrs. Hubbard frowned beside her. Leigh came closer and stooped down, shielding his face with both hands. After a few seconds, he uncovered his face and hollered quite raucously than how she and Mrs. Hubbard did, making Cleo jerk from his seat. The little boy stared at him for a moment, eyes gaping, then his mouth curled downward, followed by a deafening high-pitched wail.
In a panic, Reena took Cleo by the crook of his arms and lifted him to her chest. She swayed him softly whilst shushing, kissing his fluffy cheeks. Eyes squinting, she looked sharply at Leigh while pressing her lips on Cleo’s cheeks, threatening him for scaring her dear baby.
His eyebrows raised and drew together, lips stretching toward his ears and mouthing a sorry.
She rolled her eyes and snickered, dotting her son’s cheeks with yet another round of kisses. Cleo had calmed down eventually, touching her face with his little hand. Reena embraced her little boy… her bundle of joy. She hummed a mellow tune to soothe him from crying.
“Look what you’ve done, Leigh! You made the boy cry!”
“I-I didn’t mean it!” he retorted. “I think he’s gotten afraid of you, so when I did, he just couldn’t take it anymore!”
Mrs. Hubbard huffed. “Are you blaming me?!”
While the two bickered against each other, somebody harrumphed from the doorway.
Reena’s eyes widened as she saw Colonel Juan Cortez, the man Tommy was talking with a few days ago, standing stiff and staring at them with a couple of tall men wearing white uniforms beside him. Mrs. Hubbard and Leigh stopped quarelling and froze, and Reena saw Mrs. Hubbard lift her hand toward her chest.
“Colonel Cortez,” Leigh greeted with a firm voice. “Boss went to Little Havana with Marcus.”
The colonel jerked a nod, then his gaze shifted back to Reena, making her stand stiff on her spot. She didn’t know why but since the afternoon she met him in Tommy’s office, he seemed quite displeased to see her. She remembered the way he glared and the sound of his deep voice as he spoke her name.
“The door was open, so I welcomed myself and my sailors in.”
“Would you like to wait in Boss’s office–”
“Actually, I’m not here to talk to Thomas.” The colonel lifted a hand as if stopping Leigh from further approaching. Then, as Reena dreaded it once more, Juan Cortez glanced at her and smiled briefly. “I want to talk to you, can I?”
She saw no reason for them to speak with each other. Tommy seemed to want Juan Cortez to leave the office that day immediately, slightly pushing him out of the doorway. In fact, she recalled the fear she felt when Tommy asked her if she heard anything that he and the colonel were talking about. She denied hearing any of it, but she was behind the door the whole time, inadvertently catching the words that made her aloof toward the colonel… and Tommy.
You’re leaving her for who? A child? A widow?!
Though Tommy defended her, it didn’t feel right. She meant to leave and pretended she didn’t hear anything when she accidentally tripped on the doorway and pushed the door open. Its creaking sound attracted Tommy and the colonel’s attention in her direction, and she didn’t have a choice but to just show herself.
Feeling her heart race within, she looked back at Mrs. Hubbard, then at Leigh, the latter shrugging his shoulders. Reluctantly, she pulled her son away from her body and gave him to Mrs. Hubbard. The old woman accepted him immediately. Cleo clutched her shoulders as if he didn’t want to let go of her either, but Reena didn’t want to bring him along when she talked to the colonel.
“Of course,” she answered sheepishly and followed the man out of the sitting room.
The foyer had never felt so huge. Reena remembered the first time she’d gone to Tommy’s mansion and seen the vastness of his residence. She was with him that time, holding his hands, teasing her, feeling his glares that desired for her as she stood at the foot of the wide stairs. Now, the foyer felt different, looming over her as she felt like an insignificant insect before the colonel.
Juan Cortez’s back was facing her, and she observed him looking around the mansion. Clasping his hands together on his back, he turned around and faced her with a serious expression.
“I see that you’ve met my daughter, Mercedes. Am I right?”
She found herself nodding. “Y-Yes, Mr. Cor–”
“Colonel,” he sternly countered, seemingly clenching his teeth as he corrected her. “Call me Colonel Cortez.”
Reena felt her throat tremble. “I’m… I’m sorry, Colonel.”
The man pursed his lips with a hint of approval. “Yes, well, my Caramia, I think you know she and Tommy had something special.” He lifted his chin. “So, why are you here in the estate, Serena?”
Her heart was pounding in her chest. She was not sure whether she should be talking with him, yet, she did not want to turn him down, feeling it would be impolite to do so. Besides, she had already agreed to speak with him and come with him into the foyer, but all these interrogations punched her in the gut.
“Is there something I can do for you, Colonel Cortez?” she asked, unsure where the conversation was going.
“Yes. There is,” the colonel quickly answered. “I want you to leave Vice City.”
Everything around her went silent. Even the sound of her breathing was no longer perceptible. Her chest began to tighten, sensing the threat in the old man’s voice. He was not even glaring at her, so the feeling made her a lot more perplexed. But his words… it was clear to her that he didn’t want her around. Reena struggled to find the right words to respond, but before she could even open her mouth, the colonel overtook her.
“When you do…” Juan Cortez began, “take your son with you and never come back.”
To hate her was tolerable, but to want her Cleo gone was another story.
“W-Why? Did I do something wrong?”
Juan Cortez walked toward her, and with every step he inched forward, Reena sensed his unmistakable repulsion. “You don’t belong here. Your and your child’s presence here is unwanted,” he said the last word so resolutely that it made her shudder. “You’re tearing a long-lasting relationship apart. I’m willing to finance your trip out of the island, even give you some amount to start anew.”
“Colonel, I’m not after any–”
“If you have delicadeza, you will leave pronto.”
She was like a spec of dust before the colonel, drifting aimlessly and purposelessly in the void of embarrassment and rejection. Thoughts plagued her head as she stood still on her spot, making her want to disappear from his now hostile glares.
“It’s just simple, Serena. Tommy doesn’t need you here.”
His words struck her like a knife impaling her chest.
With Tommy, she felt safe. He’d always shown her that she was welcome no matter what… that he’d be with her and Cleo because that was his promise to Claude. There was nothing she could ask for. Everything was going well, but now when she’d found a place where she felt herself and her child protected and loved, why, of all times, did someone need to come to make her feel otherwise?
“Colonel… I–” Her heart got caught in her throat. It seemed like every word she wanted to say was being tugged back into her gut, making her cower in fear. “I don’t understand–”
“You’re a woman,” the colonel retorted firmly, stepping closer toward her. Reena wanted to move back but her feet were planted on the ground. “I know you understand what I mean–”
“What’s this?!”
Every nerve in her body felt zapped. Tommy’s hollow voice thundered from the doorway. He stood there with Marcus, looking at her– No. He was gawking at Colonel Cortez with stabbing, sharp eyes. His fists were curled to his sides, seemingly ready to tear the mint suit that fit his body perfectly. His jaw was clenched like it was going to snap anytime soon, teeth baring beneath his parted mouth.
“Thomas,” Colonel Cortez mumbled, but the tone of his voice seemed nervous now, unlike when it was her he was speaking to.
Instead of responding to Colonel Cortez, Tommy walked toward her and touched both of her arms. “Are you alright?”
“Tommy, I–” She couldn’t stop herself from stuttering. She wanted to assure Tommy she was fine, but whatever façade she was trying so hard to put on, it seemed like he could still see through her. Reena forced a nod, but her eyes blurred, obscuring her vision a bit, and something suddenly rolled down her cheek.
The look in his eyes turned more sinister. “No, you’re not…” he growled, then he faced Colonel Cortez. His hand clenched her arm and tugged her aside, shoving her briefly behind him. “What are you doing here, Colonel?!”
“You must understand, Thomas…” the old man said as he raised both hands at chest level. “I’m doing this for your best interest.”
“Me?!” he bellowed. “Is this about Mercedes again?!”
“Yes, this is about my daughter, my daughter that you’re exchanging for that–” Colonel Cortez paused, pointing his finger at her. “Husbandless woman!”
Maybe it was wrong that she was in the estate. Maybe it was wrong that she was living with Tommy. Maybe it was even wrong that she came with him to Vice City. Maybe… maybe she shouldn’t have ever agreed to any of this.
Tommy squared his shoulder and walked nearer to the colonel, seemingly forcing the latter to step back. “She’s not husbandless.”
“I can’t believe you’re making your house a refuge for some woman who just got pregnant and left behind!”
It all happened too fast. Tommy raised his fists in the air and clutched the colonel’s collar, yanking him close. The sailors drew their guns out, but Marcus and Leigh aimed their weapons as well.
She didn’t want this. She didn’t want any of this. Reena lunged forward and clung to Tommy’s arm that was up in the air.
“Stop, please!”
Even if it was a futile attempt, she willingly took the shot. It didn’t matter if Tommy wouldn’t listen, but she needed to do something to keep him from hurting the colonel. Things would just get worse.
Tommy let go of his clutch from the colonel’s collar much to her surprise. The man tumbled to the floor, shaking in fear, and his two sailors assisted him to stand up again.
“Don’t you dare say another word to my wife or you’ll end up dying like how Ricardo died!”
Wife?
Colonel Cortez seemed shaken. The shame in his eyes was palpable, but he still held his head high. “You’re foolish, Thomas. You’re taking a child that’s not you–”
“I don’t just stick my dick anywhere, Colonel. The child’s mine.”
Mine?
The air felt thicker, so thick that Reena couldn’t breathe anymore.
“I’m warning you,” Juan Cortez said, his voice arduous and callous. He walked close to Tommy and whispered something to him that only he was able to hear. She saw Tommy’s arms twitch as if he was going to hurl at the colonel again, but he thankfully didn’t.
Reena’s head followed the colonel as he walked past them. He marched slowly toward the door, keeping his posture up as if he was trying to manifest pride, but the way his chest and shoulders rose and fell proved he was wavering.
Before he stepped out of the door, Juan Cortez turned around once more. His eyes met hers, and the shameful look in his eyes became condescending. “Think about what I said, Serena. You’re doing him more harm than good.”
With the sailors following close behind him, Colonel Cortez descended the concrete staircase. Tommy called Marcus and Leigh and tilted his head in the colonel’s direction. “Make sure he leaves immediately.”
They quickly trailed after the guests, the thumping of their feet on the pavement fading.
Reena couldn’t hold her whimper anymore. It felt as if the wall she’d been holding up the entire time Colonel Cortez was there just collapsed. Her chest and stomach imploded. Her knees waned. Her vision got clouded with the stream of tears that flowed down her face.
Tommy held her arms once more. His touch was warm and gentle, but it didn’t make any difference. “Hey, don’t cry.” He cupped her chin and lifted her face to him.
“Colonel… he wants us to leave,” she murmured while stifling her sobs.
He shook his head. “No one’s leaving my estate. No one.”
“What if… he hurts us? I don’t want my Cleo to get hurt…”
“I promise you, he cannot–”
“And you? What about you? Because of me, of us, your friends are–”
Tommy stooped down, leveled his face with hers, and cupped her cheeks. Her breath got caught in her throat. “Nobody can touch you or Cleo as long as I’m here.” Back up, he stood, and his arms wrapped around her, pressing her head toward his chest. The calming ocean breeze scent of his suit overwhelmed her senses. His body trembled against hers, just as much as how her body quivered while she clutched onto his suit.
“I’m scared,” she confessed. “I’m scared, Tommy…”
His embrace tightened. “You shouldn’t,” he whispered, and Reena felt his breath flare at the top of her head, his nose buried in her hair.
She closed her eyes. She tried to find comfort, but she couldn’t.
If Claude was just here, this wouldn’t be happening…
Notes:
Hello! How are you doing?
I kind of suffered some bad and weak moments last week, causing me not to post a chapter. But hey, the phase has passed, and here I am again, ready to shout to the void!
Thank you so much for reading <3
Chapter 33: Plus One
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Vice City, 1995
A GROUP OF French secret servicemen called GIGN wanted to claim the missile technology that Colonel Juan Cortez possessed, putting a threat into his life that even his diplomatic immunity could not defend him from. Tommy received the colonel’s distress call, telling him that he was the only one who could help him escape.
Tommy didn’t think twice. Juan Cortez was someone he trusted and considered a friend. With Sonny Forelli far behind him, Tommy had no intentions of looking back to Liberty City. He was taking his place here in the south, and no one could prevent him from doing so. Of all the people he met, it was the colonel who helped him with everything he needed, giving him leverage in a town where his Family dumped him like a piece of trash.
From afar, he saw the colonel in his yacht walking back and forth on the deck, seemingly uneasy. Tommy got out of the white Deluxo and hurried to the pier. The sailors lowered the deck, welcoming him aboard the vessel, and he was met by Juan Cortez, whose worried face turned lighter upon seeing him.
“What’s the problem?” Tommy asked as he stared at the nervous man. He saw the sailors distribute weapons to each guard standing on the deck.
Sighing heavily, the colonel faced him with dreadful eyes. “The French want their missile technology back...”
“Are you talking about that chip we took from the courier?”
Colonel Cortez nodded and tightened his lips.
“Wouldn’t it be safer to fly?”
“I’d be dead before I reached the terminal,” the colonel retorted as he marched to the starboard. “Besides, I need to get my merchandise out of the city.”
Sensing the kind of help he needed, Tommy patted the colonel’s shoulder, prompting the man to look at him. “Need another gun?” he asked, willing to offer his help anytime, anywhere.
Juan Cortez smiled. His lips twisted to the left, showing an excited grin. One of the sailors that approached them gave him an M16, which, in turn, he handed over to Tommy.
“You, my friend, are worth ten guns.”
The yacht sailed away from the Marina. Darkness was approaching, and the seagulls squawked as a herd glided above them, painting the dark orange sky with ominosity. Huge waves were crashing on the hull of the vessel, and the wind was blowing against their direction, making it a bit more difficult to tread the waters.
Tommy stood by the stern while the other sailors did on both the left and right sides of the deck. Colonel Cortez was standing at the bow, looking ahead at the horizon, seemingly trying to see whether there would be any suspicious objects to block their way. As the propellers gained pace, rotating steadily under the waters, Tommy saw a couple of black cars dash into the Marina and skid on the berth. A group of men in black suits holding assault rifles and machine guns rushed toward the platform, which the yacht was just about to pass by.
Their guns were pointing at them.
“Colonel!” Tommy shouted as he sniped at the French officer who tried to shoot Juan Cortez from the bow. He quickly joined the sailors on the left side of the deck, clutching tightly the M16 that the colonel had given him. He countered the blasts of the foreigners against the yacht and tried to take down an enemy one at a time.
Juan Cortez and the rest of the sailors focused on the port and the bow, the young men surrounding their boss to shield him from any bullets. Although he was already retired, Tommy could still see the tough military officer who survived countless coups in the colonel. This man just picked up a Kruger seamlessly and fired at the GIGN officers at the docks more precisely than the sailors had ever done.
Tommy stayed at the rear end of the starboard, holding the M16 close to his body as he pulled the trigger, shooting a hailstorm toward their assailants. As he shot the last French officer, a relieved breath escaped his mouth only to hear one of the sailors shouting.
“Port side! Port side!”
A couple of dinghies boarded by French officers were approaching. Tommy immediately shot at the men, trying his best to hit the targets, but the darkness, the waves, and the yacht’s movement threw him off balance.
If he couldn’t shoot them, he’d shoot something bigger.
Instead of aiming at the men standing in the cockpit, Tommy blasted at the beam of their vessel, hitting the windshield where the helmsman was, killing him in an instant. The dinghy stopped, and as the others scampered to resume the boat’s movement, he shot again at the windshield, killing those who remained aboard.
“You’re doing great, Thomas!” the colonel yelled. “But there’s more at the bridge! We need you here at the bow!”
The mighty North Bridge’s lights flickered atop the Tropics and Marquis that blocked the way of the yacht. Aside from the vessels beneath the underpass, another couple of speedboats advanced toward them, carrying a group of heavily armed foreign agents.
“They must be determined to take you out, Colonel!”
“I know!”
With another sailor, Tommy fired at the approaching speedboats, taking each man down with relentless shots. Bullets and little sparks of light peppered the darkness. The foreigners fell one by one, screams and curses from the waters not far from them filling the void. The blasts of the guns, however, overwhelmed the shrieks of the dying men. Despite taking down the advancing agents, the men waiting by the bridge were more than they expected, and the sailors including Tommy were outnumbered. They were already running out of bullets.
“Don’t you have other weapons, Colonel?!” he asked as he dropped the empty ammo and inserted the last loaded magazine he still had.
“I got this! Duck down!”
Much to Tommy’s surprise, Colonel Cortez lifted a rocket launcher, held it firmly above his right shoulder, and pressed the button. The missile whistled as it darted toward the concrete. Pieces of the solid material fell onto the vessels, creating huge ripples and explosions, shaking the watercraft away from the passage. Colonel Cortez’s maniac laughter thundered as he and his sailors rejoiced in the destruction of the blocking watercraft.
“Damn, where'd you get that fucking badass?”
“This?!” Juan Cortez held the launcher like a baby being cradled in his arms. “I’ve been saving this motherfucker for so long–”
A tremendous barrage of bullets poured on the yacht, shooting almost all of the colonel’s sailors aboard. Tommy leaped and grabbed Juan Cortez, and they dodged together below the thin roof for protection. He didn’t care if he’d get shot as long as he’d be able to save his friend. Swift shots pierced through his shoulder and thigh as he shielded the colonel from a definite blow to his head.
Such a short-lived triumph, ain’t it?
The stench from the blaze ahead amplified the reek of death in the yacht as blood and flesh from the dying sailors lay fresh on the deck. Tommy wasn’t sure how many of them were able to survive and hide in the cabin below. The rotating blades of the chopper just grew stronger. It flew above the yacht like a hawk searching for prey on a gloomy night.
Foreign words spoke of things Tommy couldn’t understand, and while they listened, a rope ladder dropped from the aircraft where a couple of GIGN officers came down.
“Keep your head low,” Tommy whispered.
The GIGN officers separated. One climbed down the lodging while the other scoured the deck. Blasting screams echoed from below, ascertaining an encounter. While the ruckus took place, Tommy sneaked toward the other on the deck. He immediately grabbed the French by the neck, twisting it forcefully until he heard the crack. He grabbed the machine gun that the French had dropped.
“Put the fucking weapon down!” someone behind him bellowed. A muzzle was pressed against the back of his head. Another French officer appeared before him, holding Colonel Cortez at gunpoint.
Lowering the weapon, Tommy tried to think quickly about how he’d retaliate. Cornered? Yes. Vulnerable? Perhaps, at the moment. But it did not mean he was giving up.
He dropped the weapon on the floor, letting it go, slowly standing back up. Taking a deep breath, Tommy seized the barrel behind him and pushed it in the colonel’s direction. The weapon fired, taking down the other GIGN officer. Tommy yanked the firearm as hard as he could, causing the attacker to lose his balance and lean closer. In a bolt, Tommy elbowed the face of the assailant.
Colonel Cortez’s sailors appeared from the lower deck, some were wounded and some were not, but they were all alive and carrying weapons, ready to fight back. One of them scooped the colonel away from the open deck while the others positioned themselves and pointed at the chopper above.
Gripping the gun, Tommy joined the sailors. He’d been shot, yes, but he didn’t mind the graze. Together, they all fired at the aircraft as it flew away. Tommy sniped the fuselage. The chopper blazed and smoldered in space. They fired at the tail, the landing skids, and the rotating blades, creating metal clanking and ricocheting noises as the chopper wiggled in space.
The aircraft exploded, its pieces bursting and flying everywhere. It spun out of control and plunged into the middle of the sea. The stench was so overpowering that it made the air unbreathable. The burning chemical and the briny sea were such a dangerous combination. Along with the sailors, Tommy watched the chopper sink into the water, the thick clouds of smoke rising in the air.
A hand patted his shoulder, making him flinch. His wound began to throb so suddenly. Realizing that he was hurt, Colonel Juan Cortez removed his hand from him, but the smile on his face hadn’t worn off.
“Gracias, amigo,” he said, and Tommy could feel the overflowing appreciation in his voice.
Despite the gravity of the situation, Tommy knew he couldn’t refuse a friend asking for help. The wounds he harbored now were nothing compared to the scars he gained in the past. He tugged his gaze back to the spot where the chopper sank. The surface of the water still burned a bit, but the fire was slowly dying.
“Nothing I won’t do for a friend, Colonel…”
THE FANCY ENVELOPE of the invitation made Tommy squint. He’d been keeping it in his drawer since receiving it weeks ago had Marcus not reminded him after a courtesy call from Congressman Alex Shrub. The glitters in the ribbon wrapped around the opening dusted before him and tickled his nose. Keeping away the thing as far as possible from his face, he pulled the ribbon, and the flap of the envelope opened. More glitters fell and reached his eyes, causing Tommy to toss the item toward the table.
“Shitty invitation,” he grumbled, scratching his eyes with the back of his hand. Marcus came forward and continued opening the packet for him, retrieving a card inside with cursive writing.
“Seems like the congressman’s very eager to have you in the party, Boss. He tells me you can’t refuse this time.”
Now, what did the damn politician want from him? He’d already declined the invitation without even opening the envelope, reasoning out that he couldn’t go because he’d be attending a transaction in another city, but it seemed like the man didn’t want to leave him alone. Truth be told, he refused the invitation because he didn’t want to engage in the politician’s nonsense. Alex Shrub had been trying his ass so hard to convince the Puritans to vote for him, and Tommy didn’t want to be an ally to a perverted hypocrite who’d go behind his wife’s back to bring an adult movie starlet into his penthouse. Aside from that, the brief squabble Tommy had been involved with Juan Cortez was another reason to say no, knowing that the colonel and Shrub were very good friends.
And Tommy knew he wouldn’t be able to stop himself if the colonel pestered him again.
How times had changed.
“An invitation for Mr. Tommy Vercetti… and Plus One.”
His brows creased in the middle. “A plus one?”
Marcus just curled his lips and handed him over the card.
Congressman Alex Shrub was fond of parties, often spending a lot in extravagant gatherings every time he received the budget from the parliament. If Tommy was just an ordinary citizen of Vice City, he’d never vote for Shrub. Steve Scott told him that the politician constantly sent his chauffeurs and bodyguards to Candy Suxxx’s apartment, and he’d always ask for an update when the director would be making a new film.
So much for being a Puritan politician, eh?
However, it wasn’t what troubled Tommy in the first place. He’d known Congressman Shrub for long, a loyal sponsor who was willing to bet money to maintain the industry that only Tommy’s studio could provide legally, at least.
The politician knew that he always came alone to his parties, and never did it happen that he sent him an invitation with a plus one.
“You’re coming with me, Marcus,” he said nonchalantly, tossing back the paper on the table’s surface. He didn’t have time to think at all about how to fill the gap but bring along one of his henchmen.
Marcus touched the back of his head. “Boss, don’t you remember?”
He looked up at him askance. “What?!”
“It’s my day off tomorrow, Boss.”
Tommy couldn’t help but roll his eyes, them falling at Leigh in the corner. “Marcus can’t go, so you’re coming with me.”
Leigh looked a bit hesitant as well. “Apologies, Boss. Me and Marcus got plans.”
“What the fuck’s wrong with you two?!” he bellowed, staring at them with growing irritation. “I need someone to come with me tomorrow night!”
Marcus and Leigh looked at each other, then they both looked back at him. “Boss, it’s been some time since we had some good… day off. You know? And you promised this to us.”
Tommy braced. Indeed, since he went to San Andreas, Marcus and Leigh had never taken a day off. He promised them time to rest once things got settled down after their return to Vice City, but circumstances forced them to do more service. Yes, he was paying them very well. He could never find henchmen as trustworthy as these two brothers, of course, aside from Claude. Somehow, what they said made him feel guilty. He’d been lenient with the other mobsters, and it was unfair if he couldn’t give them just a few days to relax on their own.
Sighing heavily, Tommy grabbed a shot glass and filled it with rum. Marcus and Leigh just watched him drain the glass and put it back on the table. Tommy felt the liquor run down his throat, its potent alcohol content aggravating his chest and stomach.
“Will it be enough if I give you a week? Or you need two?”
Marcus's eyes gaped in palpable excitement as he glanced at Leigh. The latter showed the same delight. “Really, Boss?”
He jerked a nod at them. They’d been working so hard for him. They’d even gone beyond their duties. Marcus and Leigh not only helped him manage the gang and came with him in his most important and dangerous ventures, but they also offered their protection and service to Reena and Cleo. No wonder she was fond of them so much.
“But Boss,” Leigh interrupted, “what about the party?”
“I’ll just go alone–”
“Why don’t you bring Mrs. Vercetti with you, Boss?!”
His heart got caught in his throat. Tommy quickly shook his head. “No. I-I can’t bring her there.”
“Why not?!”
Yeah, why not?
There were a million things that Tommy worried about. She didn’t like big events. He knew it. On his birthday celebration, she opted to stay by the Waterview and watch the waves alone until he came. How would he tell her about the party if it was something she didn’t want to go to?
Besides, he’d never tried to ask her out. Yes, they’d gone to some places together, but with Marcus, Leigh, Mrs. Hubbard, and Cleo. The trip to Umberto’s place didn’t count as a date either. How would he do it? Give her an option if she wanted to come with him or not? Plead with her so she’d agree to come with him? That was unfair… and guilt-tripping.
Worse, how would he react if she said no? He remembered when Reena declined his offer to go to Vice City with him, and he hadn’t seen her in months, but it felt painful like hell. Now that she was with him in the estate, interacting with him every day, spending time with him over Cleo and some little things… he couldn’t deny to himself that he was expecting a bit of reciprocation. But, what if she said no? Could he handle it?
He wanted to ask her out, of course. She deserved a good night free of any worries and responsibilities. All she did was help around the house, make him amazing dishes, and take care of her baby, but Tommy, for once, hadn’t seen her do something for herself since they came to Vice City. Always for others. How could she be so selfless?
Eh, who cares? How would you know if you wouldn’t try?
Earnest Kelly’s words played in his mind. Perhaps, this party could be an opportunity, like a fancy date he’d dreamed to have with her. A time with her alone. Only the two of them. It was worth taking the shot.
Maybe he should try.
CLEO SNUGGLED SOFTLY on the pillows that Reena put on both sides to prevent him from rolling over to the edge of the bed. He’d been learning to keel over his stomach and lift his head a bit on his own. She wanted to watch every minute he did new things. It had been four months, time passing by so quickly that the little boy who was just crying in her arms could now sleep soundly without her beside him.
She stood from the foot of the bed and went to the dresser, putting in there the clothes she’d just folded. For some time, she’d wanted to reorganize her things, see what she could still keep, and dispose of what she could let go. Seeing that Cleo was deep into slumber and was not waking up anytime soon, she started organizing her clothes and things, tossing the shirts that couldn’t fit her anymore to the chair at the side.
Since coming to Vice City, Reena hadn’t had the chance to check her own things. All she knew was that they were there. Marcus and Leigh got them from the house in Angel Pine long before she was discharged from the hospital. When she came to the estate, they were already neatly arranged in the dresser and closet. Time and time again, she’d been preoccupied with other things, some normal stuff while others were bizarre, and she forgot about these menial things.
As she discarded more than five clothes, she slumped on the floor and crossed her legs together. She opened the bottom drawer of the dresser and pulled out some of her old dresses. Nearing the bottom, she found a sleeveless dress with flower patterns. Feeling the fabric’s thinness in her hands, she recalled that it was the dress she bought with and for Claude when they were in Vice City.
Her chest was filled with warmth she couldn’t explain the source of. Slowly, Reena stood and spread the dress, held it by the straps, and put it over her body. She went to the mirror at the closet door and looked at her reflection. The dress was still as beautiful as it was the first time she got it.
The last time she wore it was that day… with Claude. She remembered his touch on her body after he locked himself with her in the fitting room, his kisses on her scruff that sent tingling sensations down her spine, and his smile, the gorgeous beam on his handsome face that he only gave to her. Reena found herself closing her eyes and biting her lips as she recalled him going down on his knees, pushing her onto the mirror’s surface, lifting the skirt of her dress, and his breath… his breath in the apex of her thighs–
She shook her head, realizing it was wrong to have defiant and lustful thoughts about him. Exhaling the air that aggravated her lungs after holding it for some time, she thought of crumpling the dress to toss it toward the chair.
“That’s beautiful.”
Reena started on her spot and her shoulders lifted a bit in surprise. She was shocked to see Tommy standing by the door of the bedroom, smiling at her. Her clutch to the dress tightened.
“I-I’m sorry, I should’ve knocked,” Tommy muttered apologetically.
“Oh, no, no… I’m sorry.” She touched her forehead, feeling a sudden confusion. Then, she looked at him again while forcing a smile on her face. “How’s work?”
Tommy pursed his lips. “It’s good.” His eyes glistened in a different way. Were they always this charming?
Since the incident with Colonel Cortez, Reena found it hard to look Tommy in the eye. There was an uncanny sense that his gaze would send, so subtle yet so compelling that she couldn’t stand. In front of the colonel, he called her his wife and claimed that Cleo was his child. His words, in her mind, would make her stiff, like a splash of cold water on her face. A breeze on a chilly autumn night. A sweet pain.
She tucked her hair behind her ears, then waved a hand toward the dresser. “I’m just sorting my clothes. Thinking of shopping… again.”
His smile was vibrant, and Reena couldn’t explain why she was feeling something foreign to her. Something bold… something wrong but felt good, like the feeling when she was reminiscing Claude and the things they did together…
“Listen…” Tommy swept a hand from his nose down to his chin. “Are you doing something tomorrow night?”
Her heart pounded in her chest as she stared at him. She could feel her neck stiffen, her pulse drumming and quickening everywhere. Why, she only stayed in the estate and did nothing but spend time with her son. Sometimes, she’d cook and help Mrs. Hubbard out in the shed to water the plants. No, there was nothing else she’d be doing tomorrow night aside from the mundane tasks she did every single day.
Why was he asking her?
Reena shook her head. “Nothing in particular,” she responded as she cleared her throat, lowering her hands that held the dress.
Tommy smiled briefly, but it looked like he was hesitant to do so. “I’m… I’m going somewhere tomorrow. I got an invitation to a party and… I-I could use a company...”
Cleo suddenly moved on the bed, fussing softly as he stretched his little limbs on the sheet. Averting her gaze from Tommy, she quickly laid the dress on the bed and went to her son, putting her hand below his head and hips before lifting him to her chest. She kept her eyes on Cleo, but she knew that Tommy was still looking at her and waiting for her answer.
“Well, it’s… it’s okay if you can’t come–”
“I’m free,” she said, the words quickly escaping her mouth without her knowing it. Shame started to get into her head, and her stomach… she felt butterflies wildly flying all around. “I-I can come with you.”
Tommy nodded and smiled again with his mouth slightly open, but it looked like his face lightened up. He didn’t appear hesitant at all. In fact, he looked… thrilled.
“Great.” He puckered his lips while his head bobbed up and down. “I-I gotta go now.” He went closer to her, and for a moment, Reena thought he was going to reach for her face, but Tommy leaned down and kissed Cleo’s forehead. “Good night, bud.”
It was just a flash, but their eyes met. She gleamed at him and he at her, their faces close to each other. His breath, she could feel its warmth… she could smell his cologne despite the glistening of sweat on his neck.
Like the Waterview. Like the Waterview.
“Good night, Reena,” Tommy said as his face reddened, and she was unsure if it was because of embarrassment or something else. He turned around and swiftly exited the bedroom.
As Reena swayed Cleo in her arms, she was soon able to swallow the growing lump in her throat… the lump that stopped the words from coming out, making her unable to say back, “Good night, Tommy...”
Notes:
This is in reference to All Hands on Deck! (GTA Vice City).
Thank you so much for reading <3
Chapter 34: The Engagement
Notes:
Disclaimer: Any issues identical to real-life matters are pure coincidence and for the sole purpose of this fic.
Happy reading! (Hopefully T_T)
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
VICE POINT LANGER stood mightily at the high-rise residential neighborhood of the city’s elite section, looming over the other skyscrapers and overlooking several penthouses in the area. Colorful lights display flashed on its exterior walls at night, turning it into a spectacular view from the Mainland.
They were still quite a distance away, but Reena could already see the building’s façade, making her heart beat faster.
Tommy quietly drove beside her. He was wearing a striped black suit with a pink inner shirt, buttons open at his neckline. His gold chain necklace glistened on his collar, above the hairs on his chest, drawing Reena’s attention much to her embarrassment.
Despite her plan of throwing it away, Reena chose the floral-patterned dress to wear. Last wear before she disposed of it and its memories. When she bought it years ago, she remembered that there was a bit of space for her skin to breathe in. Now, the dress clung tightly to her chest and around her hips, shaping her body definitely, showing the folds of her belly that she didn’t have before.
She was starting to regret what she got herself into. A party? With Tommy? She must be too ambitious.
Mrs. Hubbard braided her hair to the side, leaving a few wispy strands of hair at the front. She no longer protested when the old woman dragged her back to the bedroom and refused to let her leave unless she got her hair fixed. It surprised her that Mrs. Hubbard kept a makeup set. The old woman brushed her eyebrows and smeared light, red lipstick on her cusps.
Keep it simple, she said.
When Reena went down and met Tommy in the sitting room, she found him opening a bottle from the shelf of liquor. He just threw her a couple of glances when she entered the door. No comment. Perhaps, the dress didn’t look good on her at all. And seeing him wearing a glamorous suit gave her the impression that her choice of clothes was wrong. She should have worn a more formal dress, which she didn’t have.
Reena shivered in her seat. She reached for the toggle on the dashboard and tried to turn the air conditioner to low, but the blowing air stopped, making her realize that she’d turned it off instead.
“Are you cold?” Tommy asked. His eyes were on the road still.
Tucking the few strands of hair behind her ear, Reena leaned back in the seat. “A little,” she said, but she didn’t elaborate at all.
Posh cars entered the hotel’s premises, making Reena wonder what kind of party it was. Tommy told her it was of a politician that he’d been working with for some time. He showed her the glittery invitation that he kept in the dash compartment of the car.
“It's something about the upcoming election, don't worry.” Yet, the sound of his voice felt glum. “Cortez might be there. They're friends, but I won't leave your side. You don't have to speak to any of them–“
“That's alright, Tommy,” she said. “I'll be fine, I promise.”
Turning right to the driveway underneath the hotel’s mighty structure, they entered the parking lot. Tommy drove down the ramp and found a spot close to the elevator. Reena tugged the skirt of her dress after she got out of the car since it had been rucking up to her thighs. She remembered it a little longer, but why did it feel so short right now?
The elevator dinged and opened, allowing them to enter the platform. Tommy placed the invitation in the inner pocket of his suit, shaking away the glitters that lingered in his hand. The cab stopped on the second floor where a group of four people entered. They didn’t press a button on the panel. Maybe, they were going to the party too.
One of the women wore a long, shiny gown with a side slit up to the tip of her thigh. Reena could already see her bum, and the woman flipped the slit even more open, seemingly bragging her slender leg. Head bowing down, Reena inadvertently looked at her own dress, feeling more certain that she didn’t wear right for the occasion. Apart from that, she was also curious about Tommy’s reaction, whether his attention was caught by their companions in the elevator or not. Ultimately, Reena decided to keep her head low and wait for the bell to chime.
Suddenly, Tommy lifted an arm and tugged it inward, seemingly offering it to her for a hold. Reena bit her lip, and for a moment, she felt herself getting flustered. Swallowing the lump in her throat that kept on getting bigger, she took a deep breath and clung to his elbow.
He smelled so good… like someone fresh from the stream. Aftershave. And his cologne… Ocean breeze. Damn it.
The doors slid open, and bright colors instantly flashed before Reena’s eyes. The air felt cooler, stiffer, and denser, making her neck brace. Perhaps, she was cold, or ashamed, or scared. It was all overwhelming.
Reena followed Tommy’s lead as he stepped out of the platform. He drew the invitation from his pocket and handed it over to the lady staff that welcomed the visitors. The staff smiled at Tommy, then her gaze fell to Reena, and the smile on the staff’s face dimmed a bit. She waved her hand toward the gathering, and though there was a pool in the middle of the deck, none of the visitors seemed to mind it.
Everybody else wore very expensive and fancy clothes and pieces of jewelry, and Reena started to feel that she didn’t belong.
Tommy seemed to notice her reservation. He looked down at her, slightly squeezing her arm. “Are you okay? What’s wrong?”
“I-I think I wore wrong…”
“No, you didn’t,” Tommy retorted, tilting his head to her side. He pointed at the men and women in their elegant suits and dresses. “See, no matter what they wear, you’re far more gorgeous than them.”
He could just be saying it to boost her confidence, but Reena wouldn’t deny that her heart jumped in glee.
Was she really yearning for compliments… from him?
She looked up at Tommy. “You look great too. I like your suit.”
A grin flashed on his mouth as they walked in further. “Your dress is lovely. You look great in it. Hair’s amazing too.”
“I love your cologne…”
Tommy chuckled and hummed. “You smelled like lilacs…”
She couldn’t help but smile widely, so genuinely that her doubts began to diminish.
A battle of honeyed words. It never felt so exciting.
“My goodness! Tommy Vercetti!”
Someone called out from the crowd. The man with brushed-up gray hair in an all-white suit marched toward them with a massive smile on his face. To his side was a woman with bouncy blonde hair, quite of age, wearing an all-glittery long gown.
As they approached, Tommy leaned toward Reena again. “I think all the glitters in the invitation came from her dress.”
Reena tried her best to keep herself from bursting into laughter.
“Congressman Shrub,” Tommy greeted, sticking out his hand for a shake. “It’s a pleasure to be at one of your parties.”
The man accepted his hand. “Ah, Tommy! I always invite you and you never came but now!”
“Business as usual,” he answered, maintaining a serious face. “Got a lot of things going on. Good thing I found time now.”
The woman looked at Reena and smiled. “And who’s this lovely lady with you tonight, Tommy?” Her gaze lowered to Reena’s dress. “I should’ve worn something like that. This dress itches like hell!”
Tommy smiled. Reena felt the warmth of his palm as he patted over her hand, his fingers brushing along hers. “This is Serena Lane.” Then, he waved a hand at the woman. “Mrs. Laura Shrub, wife of Congressman Shrub.”
Reena forced herself to smile. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
“Come on, darling.” Out of the blue, Laura grabbed her hand and pulled her away from Tommy, forcing Reena to let go of her hold on his arm. “I’ve got the ladies over there, and I’ll introduce you to them. These men had things to discuss that were boring.”
“Mrs. Shrub, I–”
She wasn’t able to do anything, not even Tommy. All he could do was watch her as Laura yanked her to the other side of the deck, toward the crowd.
Reena couldn’t help but sigh.
A group of women sat on a round couch in the hotel’s inner lobby. Laura Shrub said that her husband, the congressman, and his business associates stayed in the deck and discussed their matters, so it was impolite for a lady to stay there and meddle with men’s businesses. Tugging her gaze around the crowd, Reena noticed that the women around her seemed to know each other. Wives of Congressman Shrub’s friends, all in their expensive dresses with luxurious bags and golden earrings.
“Is she a new scholar?” one of them asked.
“Oh, no…” Laura Shrub chuckled. “She’s Tommy Vercetti’s date.”
A middle-aged woman with very short hair looked at her with gaping eyes. “The businessman?”
Laura Shrub’s head bobbed up and down while raising an eyebrow.
Murmurs aside, so far, they were kind, especially Laura, and she seemed so fond of Reena’s dress as she kept on flattering her for it.
The glass of juice Reena got served by one of the butlers moistened, forming a puddle beneath the glass. She swallowed, feeling her throat parched, so she grabbed the juice and took a sip. It didn’t taste like how juice should have tasted. It was just like colored water with a bit of bitterness.
“Well, look who’s here...”
Her eyes gaped when Mercedes Cortez sat beside her. The other women were too busy chatting about random things Reena couldn’t relate to, and somehow, seeing someone she thought she knew was a refuge to the shame she was struggling with.
“Did Tommy bring you along?” Mercedes inquired as she crossed her legs.
Reena nodded. Mercedes looked so beautiful in her shiny black dress, so confident in her skin and body. Some women glanced at them, particularly at Mercedes with scrutinizing glares, but it looked like Mercedes cared not even a little.
“Mrs. Shrub brought me here.” Forcefully.
“So, how’s your stay in the estate?”
Reena wanted to answer, but it hit her. Mercedes Cortez. The colonel’s daughter. Tommy’s partner for a long time. She recalled what Colonel Cortez told her about them… that she was causing their relationship to drift apart. That she was the reason why Tommy was going to get harmed. That she and Cleo had to leave Vice City.
Shame grew in Reena’s stomach as she glanced at the woman beside her, making her lower her eyes and turn slightly to the side. “Mercedes, I… I didn’t want this to happen.” Her voice trembled. “I know Colonel Cortez just wants what’s best for you–”
“What are you talking about?” Mercedes asked confusingly.
“Y-Your father,” Reena mumbled, dipping her chin into her chest. “He said I’m causing strain on your relationship with Tommy.”
Mercedes slid closer to her, her eyes squinting. “Did my father talk to you?”
She nodded. Though Mercedes didn’t have the same hostile vibe her father did, Reena couldn’t help but feel small in her presence.
“What did he tell you?” Her tone was soft but defined, curiosity reverberating by the way she gazed.
Reena felt her mouth dry. She put the glass back on the table in front of her and wiped her damp hands on the skirt of her dress. “He said me and Cleo should leave Vice City...”
Mercedes’s eyes gaped. Reena saw her hands curled.
Have I said too much?
A shadow loomed over, and when Reena lifted her head, she saw Laura Shrub and two of her friends staring down at them. The congressman’s wife seemed to force a smile. “Miss Cortez, do you mind if we take Serena for a while?”
Mercedes looked at Reena, seemingly seeking answers, but after a few seconds, she looked back to Laura Shrub and jerked a nod, affirming the congressman’s wife’s request without saying anything.
Laura immediately held Reena’s wrist and dragged her up, urging her to come with them to the other side of the round couch. Reena looked back at Mercedes, disinclined to come with the women she barely knew, unsure of why they interrupted their conversation. The colonel’s daughter just gazed at her, seemingly concerned, but she didn’t do more than just watch her get surrounded by strangers.
“Do you know Mercedes?” one of Laura’s friends asked. Reena couldn’t even remember her name. All she could give was a nod.
The other woman huffed while folding her arms over her chest, emphasizing her cleavage that was already revealed by her push-up bra. “She’s starred in some lewd film before, and she’s friends with the porn star, Candy Suxxx.”
“Yeah, you better not be friends with her. Such a shame to her father.”
Reena felt a pinch in her chest. Why were they saying those things about Mercedes when she was just seated across from them as if they were unafraid to get heard? Reena remembered her own experiences, and the more she lingered in their presence, the more she felt how disparaging they were.
“What’s so wrong with that?” Reena asked, unable to stop herself from retorting and defending the only woman she trusted in that party more than them.
Laura Shrub raised an eyebrow. “It’s wrong because they’re flaunting their bodies for everybody’s consumption.”
“I heard your husband’s still sponsoring Candy Suxxx?” A third woman to their right mocked the congressman’s wife. Curly blonde hair with big breasts. Reena thought she’d seen her before somewhere, but she couldn’t remember.
“She’s a scholar.”
“Don’t tell me you believe that?”
The air thickened, and all Reena could do was shift her gaze and attention between the bickering women. Among them, she was like an insect trying to survive in an overgrowth of thorny plants stubborn enough not to get plucked from the ground.
Laura Shrub cleared her throat, lifting her chin proudly. “My husband’s a good man giving a chance to people who have gone astray. He doesn’t even agree with abortion!”
As if it was a magic word, all the women hummed in approval, nodding their heads, even the third woman to the right who insinuated something about Congressman Shrub and Candy Suxxx fully agreed with what Laura said. Phrases of praise came out of the women’s mouths, buzzing all around Reena, drowning her with their chaste beliefs and stances.
“We are homemakers,” Laura said with conviction as she opened her arms. “It’s our duty to give our husbands a child and to make our homes liveable for them!”
A surge of a boisterous YES erupted from the women, and as the noise engulfed the lobby, Reena looked back at Mercedes. She was rolling her eyes and scoffing. A woman with huge breasts and auburn hair went to Mercedes’s side, stooping down and whispering something into her ear. One of the women with Laura Shrub hissed, tilting her head in the couple’s direction. Reena heard her say it was Candy Suxxx, and all of them jeered except for the congressman’s wife.
“Mrs. Shrub, I forgot to tell you,” one of the women holding a half-smoked cigarette said. “We’re gonna establish Wives League here in Vice City. Members should be married women, wives to be, mothers or not yet. We’re talking about establishing a community of good families and finding role models for our young teens.”
“That’s a great idea! We should all join!”
Another roar of approval buzzed all around Reena.
“You should join us, Serena,” Laura invited. The congressman’s wife looked at her with imploring eyes. All the women stared at her with beseeching gazes, seemingly convinced that she’d agree to their request.
Reena felt the pressure around her. A Wives League was for wives, and she wasn’t a wife.
“I’m sorry, Mrs. Shrub. I-I can’t.”
“Why not?!” The glow on Mrs. Shrub’s face faded. She sat beside Reena and held her hands.
“I…I’m not a wife, Mrs. Shrub.”
To their right stood the woman with curly blonde hair, the one that talked about Congressman Shrub and Candy Suxxx. She walked closer to Reena and Mrs. Shrub’s spot, putting her hands on her waist. “Aren’t you?! I’ve seen you in El Nuevo Siglo before with Tommy Vercetti, and you’re with a child. In the escalator.”
Ah, now, Reena remembered who she was. That woman with curly blonde hair and bodyguards while she, Tommy, and Cleo were going up to the department store. Many things had been hazy in her memory from that day, but when the woman introduced herself, the reminiscences came sweeping like a tide.
The woman with curly blonde hair thought she was Tommy’s wife and Cleo was theirs.
“You have a child?” Mrs. Shrub asked. She unheld Reena’s hands. “But not married?!”
Shit.
TOMMY WAS ALREADY rubbing a finger on his temple as Congressman Shrub talked a lot. He was boasting about cutting the cost of policing, saving the city two percent over six years, and everything else under the sun that Tommy didn’t care about.
In fact, Tommy didn’t know why he was enduring any of this, listening to Alex and his colleagues laugh while toasting their wine glasses instead of looking for Reena and spending the night with her. As his wit came to an end, Tommy excused himself and walked away from the group.
“Hey, wait, Tommy!” Congressman Shrub came after him, and Tommy halted in his tracks. Deeply annoyed, he forced himself one more time to look at the politician. He tried his best to smile, but fuck, he couldn’t.
Reena. Where did Laura Shrub bring her? He looked around but he found no women in the deck. Tommy was sure she wasn’t comfortable anymore, and he had to get to her as quickly as he could. He shouldn’t have let the politician hold his time.
The congressman panted, touching Tommy’s shoulder. Tommy wanted to flail his arm but he stopped himself.
“I’ve got some concerns about something, if you don’t mind?”
“Is this about the studio again, Congressman?”
Alex Shrub was Tommy’s number one supporter in continuing the operation of InterGlobal Films, but he was also very anxious about getting his name involved in the studio. It made Tommy see him as a phony, showing a moralistic personality to his voters while doing a lot of immoral acts behind the curtains of his penthouse. Once, Tommy resorted to blackmailing the congressman after he withdrew and threatened to close up the porn studio in Vice City years ago by taking pictures of him while Candy Suxxx was riding the shit out of him in the pool of this very building.
The congressman quickly shook his head. “No, it’s not. It’s something else…”
Oh, what a surprise.
Tommy’s brows churned. “So, what is it? But make it quick. I gotta look for Reena–”
“That’s it,” the politician suddenly said. “It’s about her.”
Tommy braced. Congressman Shrub never intruded on his personal life. Was she the reason why the politician gave him a plus-one invitation? Wondering how the fuck this asshole learned about her, Tommy lifted his eyes and scanned the deck. From the corner, he saw Juan Cortez with a smirk, lifting a hand that held a wine glass.
Motherfucker.
“I like you, Tommy, I really do,” Alex Shrub said, seemingly defensive. “But it’s immoral to live with someone who’s not your wife. Apart from that, she’s got a child. It makes me a center of attraction if I tolerate these kinds of acts among my business associates, you know…”
Tommy regretted not having brought his gun. It was in the dash compartment of his car. He should’ve tucked it into his holster. If he just knew that Alex Shrub would be speaking bullshit in front of him, he was more than willing to pull out a gun and shoot him in the face in the middle of his party. How fucking dare he talked about decency while he himself was pillaging the citizen’s resources to sponsor his own gratuitous activities? How dare he judged Reena for having a child out of wedlock while he stuck his dick in someone else’s cunt instead of his old wife?!
“You’re gonna regret this, Shrub,” Tommy growled. “You shouldn’t have said that about her.”
Alex gulped, seemingly struggling to push down whatever he swallowed in his throat. “Please, Tommy, I–”
He walked away, not waiting for Alex Shrub to finish his sentence. In his mind, he was already thinking of how he’d be teaching the congressman a lesson, and by the time he did, he knew that the politician would be going down on his knees and begging for him to stop. As Tommy aimed for the door that led to the lounge, he saw Mercedes coming out. It seemed like she hurried even more when she saw him, and once she reached his place, she immediately grabbed his arm and hauled him to the side.
“Listen, Tommy,” Mercedes said while keeping her eyes trained on him. “I don’t know what the hell Daddy did. I didn’t know he went to your house–”
“Now, you know.” He cut her out, his teeth clenching beneath.
“I told him that I can’t go to your estate anymore, but I didn’t expect he’d be acting that way!”
“Oh, sure you do–”
“Are you really out of your mind? You’re sure with what you’re doing?!”
“Mercedes, I don’t have time for this.” Tommy pulled his arm to the side, unlatching from her grasp, walking past her.
“Tell me if you’re certain once those conservatives grill you as they do your new girl now.”
He stopped and turned around. “What?! Where?!”
“In the lounge. They’re interrogating her about living with you and having a child while unmarried–”
Tommy bolted toward the door, pushing it open as strongly as he could. The strong, congested stench of liquor, old perfume, and smoke almost suffocated him. He pushed through the crowd of women and scanned the area in haste, looking for Reena. There were so many of them standing all around, noisily chatting and laughing, glasses and utensils clanking, mouths belching with thick clouds of smoke like that of the exhaust of a car. The boisterous sound of classical music playing rang in his head. He shoved the women he came across, not minding if they got hurt or not.
The further he went in, the stiffer the air got. His heart was already in his throat when, on the middle couch, he saw a group of women surrounding Reena. She was just sitting there, head bowed down and frozen, clutching the skirt of her dress. Her hair lay on her shoulders, barely covering her face.
And the women… they were all looking down at her like she was some sort of a spectacle.
“Do you know it’s a disgrace to live with a man who isn’t your husband?!” A lady with a wrinkled face desperately covered with a thick foundation bellowed.
“And you had sex?! Before marriage?!” Another one hollered, instigating a reaction from everyone.
Laura Shrub shook her head. “Getting pregnant on top of that–”
“What the fuck’s going on here?!”
All the women looked at Tommy in shock, causing some of them to move away from Reena. Laura Shrub stood from her seat and cleared her throat, looking embarrassed yet annoyed.
The moment she saw him, Reena stood from the couch and walked to his side, hiding behind him and trying to cover herself up.
“Tommy,” she whispered. “Let’s just go–”
“What are all these stupid questions, Laura?!” he asked, ignoring Reena’s pleas.
The woman trembled, but she didn’t avert her glare. Instead, she lifted her chin and waved a hand at Reena. “Is it true? She has a child but is unmarried to you?”
“Oh, Mrs. Shrub, why don’t you believe me?” The woman with curly blonde hair tossed her hair to the back of her shoulders. “I told you, I saw them!”
Fuck this woman. If Reena wasn’t there, he’d already say something that would humiliate her entire being and make her fucking cry. However, Tommy felt Reena’s hold on his arm, gentle, shaking, uncertain… and he couldn’t help but look at her to his side, finding her nearly crying.
“You know we don’t tolerate acts like this,” Laura Shrub claimed in an ominous voice, looking disappointed. “Here in Vice City, we uphold integrity and morality with very high regard. You know that, don’t you?”
Alex Shrub was just like his wife. Too fucking righteous yet so fucking faulty in every manner.
They shouldn’t have gone to the party. He shouldn’t have brought Reena. He shouldn’t have forced her to face these good-for-nothing hags.
But Tommy wanted to prove them wrong. He wanted to show these virtuous women that they thought of Reena so mistakenly. He wasn’t letting them shame her like that. Never, as long as he was around.
They wouldn’t be able to insult her and Cleo.
“You’re making a mistake.”
Tommy draped an arm around Reena’s shoulders, pulling her to his side. He was certain of what he was going to say. There was no more backing down. And with every beat of his heart, he would mean it. Every word that would flow.
“Me and Reena, we’re marrying next month.”
The women before him gasped aloud, holding their hands to their chests. Their once sullen faces gradually glowed, and some of them squealed in palpable delight. Laura Shrub’s hands fell to her chest, gazing at him and then at Reena as if she already regretted having said what she’d said.
“We’ve been planning for a year since we learned we’re having a kid. Now, our boy’s old enough, we could already continue what we’ve planned for ourselves.”
Laura Shrub suddenly lunged toward them, grabbing Reena’s hands. “Oh, darling! I’m sorry if we’ve been too fast! Why didn’t you tell us?”
Reena stammered. “I-I uh…” She looked up at Tommy, and he looked down at her, seeing the fear in her eyes. Then, she turned her gaze back to the congressman’s wife. “I don’t know how to tell you…”
The woman let go of her hands and went to the table, taking a goblet. She grabbed a fork and raised the cup, hitting the utensil lightly on the fragile bowl. All the women looked at her, and she didn’t stop until she got everyone’s attention. Congressman Shrub came into the lounge as well with his associates, including Juan Cortez, Mercedes, and Candy Suxxx.
“Everyone, we’ve got great news to tell!”
Tommy’s heart sank… or grew?
“My husband’s dear friend here, Mr. Tommy Vercetti, is finally settling down!”
The crowd gasped, and Tommy saw Alex Shrub slipping beside his wife, seemingly whispering something into her ear. Shaking her head, Laura beamed, ignoring whatever the congressman had said.
“He and my lovely new friend, Serena, will be tying the knot next month!”
Cheers erupted from the crowd, and even Alex Shrub who looked doubtful at the start had turned merry, eyes lighting up in excitement. Applause surrounded them as well as cries of congratulations and well wishes, engulfing him and Reena in the middle of a vivacious tumult that trapped them both into a ploy.
Behind the crowd of people, Juan Cortez and Mercedes stood. The former looked frantic, while Mercedes just glared, shaking her head. When her father marched away, she immediately followed, leaving Candy Suxxx applauding with the crowd.
Tommy glanced at Reena again. Slowly, a smile painted her lips, but deep inside, he knew it was forced. Laura Shrub went to them again and cupped her cheeks, kissing her on both. Then, she pinched his arm before walking back to her husband’s side. Alex Shrub seemed pleased as well, and Tommy knew that whatever the congressman said earlier about Reena was already invalidated.
Now, all he and Reena had to do was to keep up with the ruse.
Notes:
This is an implied reference to Martha’s Mugshot (GTA Vice City).
Thank you so much for reading <3
Chapter 35: Invitation
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
ALL THAT 8-BALL could see was two pairs of feet from beneath the car. One wore red, high-heeled footwear, skin-to-shoe, while the other was fully covered in black socks and shiny, black shoes. A car, which looked like a Stinger, was parked outside the gate that was left open after a customer drove out earlier. He reached for the bumpers and pulled himself out of the gap, the creeper he was lying on rolling seamlessly outward, although he bumped his head a little on the edge.
Grunting, 8-Ball touched the aching spot and sat on the foldable creeper. While he did, he glanced at his wristwatch and it showed nine thirty-four, making him realize that he had not eaten breakfast yet as his stomach began to rumble. Footsteps thumped and scratched on the ground from the back of the car, heading in his direction.
When he lifted his head, he saw Asuka and Maria standing side-by-side.
“Grinding quite early?” the waka-gashira greeted, her narrow eyes almost closing as she beamed.
It had been a month since he saw them. 8-Ball could not contain his excitement, and as if his legs had a mind on their own, he immediately stood and leaped like a child. “Ladies! What a pleasant surprise!”
“Have you had your breakfast?” Asuka asked, seemingly delighted. “We’ve brought some bacon and eggs that we can eat together.” She stretched her hand, lifting a plastic bag.
8-Ball wiped his greasy hands on his pants and grabbed the pouch, checking the contents inside. He saw a tray of eggs and a pack of bacon. He grinned at Asuka, his smile twisting on the side of his face. “I never thought you liked American breakfast now,” he teased. Asuka just shrugged her shoulders in response.
Maria scratched her knuckles on the tip of her nose while looking around the garage. “I don’t know 8-Ball, but your auto yard’s messy for me.”
“What do you expect from an auto yard?”
Amused, Asuka approached him and patted his shoulder. “I think we should eat first before we tell you the news.”
The two walked past him and entered the garage with Maria stepping over a black oil puddle on the pavement, making her squeal. Curious as to what they had to say, 8-Ball squinted and followed the two inside, placing the plastic bag on the counter at the corner while his visitors sat on the bench before a table. 8-Ball washed his hands in the sink, and while the water flowed, he looked up and found a box of pancake mixture in the cupboard.
“Would you like to have some pancakes?!” he cried, knowing that one of the two would probably agree.
“I’d love to!” Maria exclaimed instantly, ascertaining that his assumption was correct. “All that Asuka feeds me were Japanese shit!”
“Try saying that again next time when you’re already paying for food, Maria,” Asuka scowled.
Shaking his head at the usual bickering of the two, he hurried to the kitchen and prepared. “It’ll be quick, promise!” He placed a cast iron pan on the stove, letting it heat up. From a drawer, he drew a bowl and cracked the eggs in it, whisking them vigorously with a fork. When the pan was already smoldering, 8-Ball tore the pack of the frozen goods and slowly laid the strips of bacon on the surface, the meat sizzling as it touched the surface.
“You know, 8-Ball,” Asuka called out from the bench, “I’m not one to read newspapers that much.”
“Me, too,” Maria interjected.
“I-I don’t read that much either. Can’t even remember the last time I did!”
The smell of bacon cooking in its own oil produced an appetizing aroma that filled the kitchen. Using thongs, 8-Ball turned over the strips, seeing the edges of the meat toasted enough to crisp.
“Beautiful,” he whispered.
He grabbed another bowl and put the pancake mixture in it. From the fridge, he retrieved a bottle of milk and a block of a quarter butter. He mixed the liquid with the powder using the same fork he used to whisk the egg. In the egg mixture, he sprinkled a bit of salt and pepper. Once the bacon was cooked, he took it out of the pan and poured the egg to cook in the oil bacon.
“That smells nice…” Asuka commented.
When the omelet was done, 8-Ball took it out, and then he put the pancake batter in the pan, sizzling in the very oil where the bacon and egg had been cooked. The compelling smell engulfed the garage, and 8-Ball couldn’t deny that the food was already luring him to sneak and grab a piece.
“My stomach’s growling!” Maria exclaimed. Her stiletto clanked on the floor as she approached the table and attempted to pick a strip of bacon.
Using the spatula, 8-Ball blocked her hand, making Maria pout. “Uh-huh, not yet!”
“Come on, we don’t have to tell Asuka!”
“I heard that,” the waka-gashira retorted. 8-Ball snickered at Maria after she retreated and headed back to the bench. While he watched her, he saw Asuka place a newspaper on the table.
Turning his attention back to cooking, 8-Ball saw that the side facing upward was already bubbling. In a swift motion, he shook the pan and tossed the pancake into the air, catching it back gracefully after a full turnover. He smirked, feeling proud of himself.
He brought the food to Asuka and Maria, pompously putting the plates on the table. Their eyes grew large while he settled himself on the chair, leaning his back against the seat.
“They say breakfast’s the best meal!”
Maria started getting her part without waiting for either Asuka or him. She bit her lip in excitement, and when she put a slice of bacon, egg, and pancake into her mouth, she groaned in pleasure, eyes rolling in palpable delight.
“I bet it was,” Asuka commented, but then she pressed her fingers on the newspaper and slid it toward him.
Curiosity arose again as he met Asuka’s gaze. The waka-gashira’s stare was intense, and somehow, 8-Ball felt she wanted to tell him something. As his eyes fell on the newspaper, he figured that Asuka wanted him to check it.
“Asuka, are you alright? Is something bothering you?” he probed, unable to stop himself. Her face was always calm. More often, she lacked expression, but he could sense her anxiety.
“The newspaper,” she said, “I brought that for us to read. Well, I’m done reading it. I brought it for you.”
Maria swallowed what she had in her mouth, and 8-Ball wasn’t sure if she chewed them enough. “I wonder how he’d react–”
“Shut up, Maria,” Asuka quickly interjected, looking at her fiercely.
8-Ball could no longer ignore Asuka’s strange demeanor. She looked worried. Maria looked curious. And he? He was confused. As much as he was happy to have them visiting him in the auto yard, their appearance out of nowhere warranted an answer that only either of the two of them could provide.
“Asuka, Maria, why are you here?”
“Turn to the fourth page,” Asuka firmly replied.
With his eyebrows creasing at the center, 8-Ball obliged. Slowly, he unfolded the newspaper, seeing the banner Vice City News at the top. Raising an eyebrow, he flipped the pages, his wonder reaching its peak. Upon reaching the section, 8-Ball scanned the paper, and at the side, under WEDDING ANNOUNCEMENTS, something caught his eye.
LANE-VERCETTI
Thomas Vercetti and Serena Lane announced their engagement last November 23, 2002, at Vice Point Langer, Vice City.
Miss Lane is a former executive secretary at Love Media Center. She was born on October 14, 1972, in Garcia, San Fierro, SA.
Mr. Vercetti is an entrepreneur. He was born on December 15, 1962, in Portland, Liberty City.
The ceremony will be held at 3 PM in Ocean Beach Church, Vice City Beach to be presided over by Rev. Fr. Allan Keys on Saturday, December 14, 2002.
8-Ball’s hands trembled, feeling every bit of his nerve drum beneath his skin. He couldn’t believe what he just read. Appalled, he crumpled the newspaper in his fists, looking at Asuka and Maria with rage. He shot up from his seat and walked toward the garage’s entrance while glaring at the paper. A photo of Tommy and Reena was beside the announcement, standing side by side and holding each other’s hands. Shaking his head, he scowled at the very photo he was looking at, glowering into Tommy’s eyes as if he were looking at him face to face.
“Is this for fucking real?!” he hollered, waving the paper. “Tommy’s marrying Reena?!” He wanted to throw it, but his hands clutched onto the sheets tightly, too stiff and shaky to let go.
He fucking knew it. The moment he walked into the terminal, he felt deep within that it wasn’t right to let Reena come with Tommy. 8-Ball wanted to tell her everything after seeing how she’d suffered, but her smile at him that day was proof of her finally moving on. So, he let her go… he let her come with that asshole, and he regretted every minute of it, letting that son of a bitch get close to her.
8-Ball never liked Tommy. Not even an inch of his skin trusted the man. He was right. He should have listened to his guts. Tommy was taking advantage of Claude’s absence. If 8-Ball just knew that Tommy would be this bold, he would’ve pushed him away himself.
Asuka stared at him cumbersomely. “That’s what I thought you’d say…”
“That’s what I said too when I saw that,” Maria interrupted, pointing her fork at the newspaper. “I don’t think I–”
Asuka shoved a pancake into Maria’s mouth, stopping her from talking. “8-Ball, before anything else, should we call Reena and ask her what’s happening?”
She was right. Calling Reena should be their first step. 8-Ball grabbed his phone from the drawer and dialed her number. Pressing the phone into his ear, a high-pitched sound beeped followed by a voicemail.
“The number you’re calling is either unattended or out of coverage area. Please try again later.”
He pressed the end call button and dialed her number for the second time. Pushing the loudspeaker button, 8-Ball laid the device on the table for Asuka and Maria.
“The number you’re calling is either unattended or out of coverage area. Please try again later.”
“I should’ve known this was his plan all along!” He threw the newspaper to the floor violently, jerking Maria in her seat. “He even cut us out!”
“The wedding’s on Saturday,” Asuka said as she leaned on the bench, looking at the food on the table. The glistening oil that surrounded the bacon, egg, and pancakes didn’t look that much appetizing at all.
“We got barely a week,” 8-Ball mumbled as he paced back and forth, wiping his hand over his face. “Why did Reena allow this?!” he bellowed, cursing under his breath while trying his best to understand what was going on.
“8-Ball,” Asuka called him out. “She doesn’t know. We chose not to tell her, remember?”
A car suddenly pulled over beside the Stinger. 8-Ball frowned as he looked ahead, seeing a man emerge from the vehicle.
“Is this the address of Mr. 8-Ball Hudson?”
Asuka and Maria looked in the direction of the man. He was a huge man with broad shoulders and hefty limbs, wearing a yellow Hawaiian polo shirt and blue jeans. He was holding a square, white envelope that looked too small compared to his hand.
“Yeah,” 8-Ball responded quite annoyingly, putting his hands on his waist. “What do you need?”
The man walked into the garage, extending a hand toward 8-Ball, the one with the envelope. “I’m Marcus Pendelbury. Mr. Vercetti and Miss Lane wish to give you this invitation.”
“From Tommy and Reena?!” Maria cried.
Marcus Pendelbury just nodded.
Reluctantly, 8-Ball snatched the card. He tore it open before the man and tossed the envelope to the ground. The card was sturdy and simple, yet, the message written in it was certain, clear, and unquestionable. 8-Ball clenched his teeth as he read the words that choked his throat.
“Join us in our Union: Thomas Vercetti and Serena Lane on December 14, 2002, at three o’clock in the afternoon at Ocean Beach Church, Ocean Beach, Vice City. Merriment to follow.”
A phone suddenly buzzed, and when 8-Ball looked over his shoulder, he saw Asuka checking her cell.
“An invitation to a wedding ceremony has been delivered in the condominium,” she read aloud, lifting an eyebrow.
“I must go,” Marcus Pendelbury interrupted, jerking a nod to the invitation. “They’re expecting all of you, especially the miss. Mr. Hudson, she wishes that you walk her down the aisle.” He turned around, walked back into his car, and drove away.
“Everything’s happening too fast…” Maria murmured.
“Hell yeah, it is.” 8-Ball crumpled the invitation. “This isn’t supposed to happen…”
Asuka stood and approached him, putting a hand on his shoulder. “You can’t possibly go to him and tell him what’s going on.”
8-Ball stood motionless in the doorway of his garage. The calm morning had gone so fast, and as more cars passed by the road sounding their horns, the more confounded and disoriented 8-Ball became. Yet, he was certain of what he had to do, no matter what the outcome was.
With all the options running out, 8-Ball looked at Asuka and Maria. “I have to try. We can’t leave him in the dark…”
REENA HELD HER breath as the seamstress wrapped a tape measure around her waist. It wasn’t tight, but she couldn’t breathe anyway, suffocated by the thoughts that ravaged her mind. She could feel the seamstress adjusting the measures, moving the tape along her waistline with at least an inch of extra scale. Seemingly satisfied, the seamstress let go of the edge of the tape measure and leaned toward her assistant.
“Twenty-eight.” She looked back at Reena and smiled. “Raise your arms, darlin’. We’ll measure the bust.”
Lifting her arms to her side, Reena let the seamstress wrap the tape measure around her chest, brushing along the tip of her breast. Like she did on her waist, the seamstress moved the tape around her bust, making sure that there was an extra space again. Reena had been standing for some time, and her legs felt sore after all the measurements being done on her body.
“Thirty-five.” The seamstress puckered her lips.
None of this she believed was actually happening. She regretted ever coming with Laura Shrub. Heck, she even resented coming with Tommy to the party. She shouldn’t have agreed at all if she knew that this was going to happen. A part of her didn’t want to blame him. She knew he just wanted to get them off her, but what he said was totally out of the line. It was one thing to say that she was his wife and Cleo was their child to Colonel Juan Cortez, but it was another to claim that he was marrying her in front of other people.
Everybody believed. They were convinced. Some of them mailed gifts to the estate within the following week, sending their congratulations and expressing their wishes to be invited to the wedding. A couple of days ago, she even received a letter from the Wives League: Vice City Chapter, inviting her to become a board member.
Reena closed her eyes as she felt the seamstress work around her hips. Slowly, she lowered her arms, feeling her biceps strain, and she wished that whatever the seamstress was doing would end sooner.
Instead of getting measured for a dress, Reena felt like she was getting measured for her coffin.
“Thirty-eight.” The seamstress moved down, and as she did, she leaned to the other staff. “Make it thirty-nine.”
Weeks ago, she was asked to pick a design. However, she couldn’t make herself choose, so instead, Mrs. Hubbard did it for her. The dress had been made, but they realized it was too loose on her, and the seamstress wanted it to fit her body just right. Her stomach would churn when things about the wedding came up. Often, she’d lock herself in her bedroom, or in the nursery, pleading with Mrs. Hubbard that if ever Tommy asked for her, the old woman should tell him that she was either busy or asleep. Or dead.
They didn’t talk that night. In fact, they hadn’t spoken since. Whenever they’d pass by each other in the hallway, Reena would avert her gaze, or she’d turn around and scurry toward any of the two rooms she lingered in. She couldn’t face Tommy. She couldn’t look him in the eye. She couldn’t even say his name. Everything changed since that night in Vice Point Langer, and she felt caught up in a snare she had no chance of escaping from.
“Miss Reena, we assure you we’ll deliver it before Saturday.”
She could wear anything. A white T-shirt and jeans. Barefoot on the shore. A silly veil on her head. Lilacs in her hands. As long as it was Claude waiting for her and Cleo at the altar.
Her heart ached. It felt like several needles poking through her chest, sending a numbing sensation around her body. This was a sick game. A very sick game to play, and she was not prepared for it. She could not win it. She couldn’t get out of it.
“We’ll get going. See you on Friday.” The seamstress kissed her on both sides of her cheeks, but Reena didn’t even flinch.
Hopeless. Everything was hopeless.
A hand touched her back, making her jump on her spot. “Reena, dear, are you alright?”
Mrs. Hubbard looked at her with a worried gaze. Her touch was barely soothing. In fact, Reena didn’t want anyone touching her, only Cleo. Only Claude. Her heart pined even more, and without a word, she shook her head, walked away from the old woman, and left the living room.
Somehow, she considered what Juan Cortez said. Leave Vice City. She got tempted into leaving the estate. Four nights ago, she started packing her bags, but when she realized she had nowhere else to go, she snapped out and cried on the bed. She couldn’t go to Liberty City. It was dangerous. She couldn’t go to Angel Pine. It was too far. She could’ve called 8-Ball, Asuka, or Maria, but she was too ashamed to tell them what happened that she turned her phone off and tossed it into a drawer.
Especially 8-Ball. She knew he’d feel that she betrayed Claude.
But she didn’t. She never did. She loved him with all her heart. He was the only one she wanted to be with. Reena would drop everything just to get him back, to feel him in her arms again, to kiss his lips, to see his beautiful face… everything she was experiencing with Cleo, but not quite.
Claude. She missed him so much she’d die just to see him again.
Reena didn’t notice that she had already reached the top of the stairs, right in front of Tommy’s office. When she lifted her head, she found him at the doorway, about to exit, meeting her gaze. She stiffened, and she knew that Tommy did too, and that night of foolish pledges played in her mind again.
Quickly, she turned the other way, avoiding crossing paths with him. However, as she quickly strolled, farther and further she got, she heard Tommy’s voice.
“Can we talk?”
Her steps halted as if she got planted on the floor. Something held her down, stronger than gravity, keeping her still in place. There was nothing for them to talk about because she didn’t want to talk, but reason got over her as she forced herself to turn around and face Tommy again for the first time after that night in Vice Point Langer.
“We have to,” she answered, certain of what she wanted to tell him this time.
Notes:
Thank you so much for reading <3 Have a great week!
Chapter 36: Half-Hearted
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
JOEY LEONE CRUMPLED the Vice City Newspaper, almost tearing the thin sheets apart. When he met with Poulet, he thought she’d make it, convinced by the kind of illusions he himself suffered while speaking with the witch. But instead of her success and his most awaited wealth, Joey learned that she was attacked and shot in the back, ending her up in a hospice, paralyzed neck down. What was worse, the document he gave her was nowhere to be found, and she’d be deported soon, back to her homeland.
No more witchy tricks.
Now, things felt worse. He was in his garage in Trenton when a mafioso came and showed him the newspaper. Joey found himself rushing to Toni Cipriani’s house to ask him if he knew. The capo’s mother, that old hag, shoved him away like an animal, not even recognizing who he was, screaming that her son had no time to deal with the bullshit of people like him.
“She’ll get her day,” Joey whispered to himself. He couldn’t imagine why Toni was still living with that bitch.
He’d gone to Leone Casino to find Toni, but another mafioso told him that the capo flew to another city without informing anyone why or when he was coming back. Toni hadn’t spoken to him since learning about his deal with the Haitians. He berated Joey and his antics. Toni said that if he wouldn’t be manning up for the crime family, the capo would be forced to leave.
“If he didn’t want to help me, then I don’t need him,” Joey grumbled, incensed by waiting for Ken Rosenberg.
The clock in Salvatore’s old office ticked quietly on the wall, up above his head. He pulled the drawer open to take tobacco, but his father’s stash was now empty. Disappointingly, he pushed the drawer back in, its locks clicking aloud as the wood slammed into the compartment. Joey reclined on the headrest and closed his eyes, feeling the soft tune of music that played on the radio, immersing himself in a deepening paranoia.
“Mr. Leone, what’s the urgent matter?”
Joey jolted, surprised to hear Ken Rosenberg’s voice. He stood at the doorway, looking ruffled and high. His eyes were bloody red as if he’d just woken up even though it was already afternoon. Apart from that, the lawyer smelled pungent despite being away from the table.
“Did you shower?!” Joey asked, unable to stop himself from showing his disgust. “Didn’t you take a bath before getting here?!”
Scratching his head, the lawyer stepped inside and sat on the chair across from Joey on the table. The stink was much, much more potent, making him want to puke.
“I-I’d do it later,” Ken said, covering his mouth. “What’s up? Did Poulet recover?”
What a fucking ridiculous question that was! Joey didn’t care about Poulet, and he knew the lawyer didn’t too, but was he expecting that they could still carry out their plan with the Juju woman? Such a waste of time, resources, and energy.
“It’s something else,” he said and tossed the newspaper toward Ken Rosenberg.
The lawyer took the paper and scanned it, left to right, top to bottom, until his eyes got fixated on the side. He put the newspaper close to his face while he squinted, his mouth opening, silently reading. Joey saw how his peering eyes grew large, but what puzzled him was Ken’s mouth gradually quirking up into a sly smile.
Joey watched him in confusion, and then, out of the blue, Ken Rosenberg burst into a guffaw.
It wasn’t the reaction he expected. When he saw the announcement about Tommy Vercetti and Reena’s wedding, even seeing a picture of them both on the paper, he wanted to explode in rage. His first plan with Ken Rosenberg failed – Poulet failed – and now, he’d discover that the people he was running after were going to marry! How could he get close now?
Joey despised Ken Rosenberg’s insensitivity to his predicaments. The lawyer was not taking things seriously.
“Why are you laughing? Is that supposed to be funny?!”
Ken Rosenberg shook his head, brushing his knuckles on the tip of his nose, sniffing. “Didn’t know Tommy would be this stupid to make his own trap.”
“Why do you say that?”
The lawyer snickered. He stood and went to the shelves of wine at the side, taking a bottle and opening it. After an arduous time of grunting with force to twist the cap, Ken Rosenberg drank from the bottle’s mouth, not bothering to take a snifter. Joey noted what wine that was, its markings, the bottle’s shape, its color… he had no interest in drinking it at all after Ken Rosenberg put the cap back on and slid it onto the shelf with the others.
“He’s making his own bed of nails, Mr. Leone. We just need someone to pound him on it.”
Ken Rosenberg… This schmuck of a lawyer. He looked and acted foolish most of the time. He didn’t even seem convincing at all, causing Joey to doubt and wonder how he was able to exercise the law. But sometimes, the lawyer’s words would strike a nerve in him that would make his eyebrows raise, just like now.
“Who’s it gonna be?” Joey asked as curiosity crept under his skin. “Us?”
“Do you know anyone in the city,” Ken asked, strumming his fingers in the air, “like… people who can pull strings?”
Joey thought about it. While he himself didn’t know anyone personally, he knew his father had lots of connections before. Mayor Miles O’Donovan. He’d done everything Salvatore asked as payback for saving his ass from the Sicilian Mafia.
When Joey came to O’Donovan almost a year ago, seeking help, he was pointed to a man in Liberty Supreme Court. Chief Justice Oliver Scarbein. The adjudicator, as the mayor called him. In a snap of his fingers, Scarbein could do anything in all criminal cases in courts. Skipping trials. Acquitting the accused. Incarcerating without proof. He was exactly the man that Joey was looking for.
With half of his inheritance, Joey paid the judge generously, putting his faith and money in him to keep his father’s murderer on leash.
His request happened. For a short while, he had peace, but it didn’t last. It never felt satisfying. There was something missing… something wrong. Seeing him locked up, desperate, and waiting for death was not enough to inflict all the pain and suffering that Joey felt when he lost his dear father.
Yet, Joey also realized that he didn’t lose Salvatore just because of that fucker. He lost his father when Serena Lane came, when that bitch came, and Joey was willing to bet everything he had just to get from her what was supposed to be his.
He looked at Ken Rosenberg and nodded. “I know a judge,” he mumbled, recalling that moment when he let go of his money. “Why do you ask?”
The lawyer grinned, showing his unbrushed teeth. He cackled, then leaned toward the desk, closer to Joey. Ken Rosenberg’s eyes gleamed beneath his tinted eyeglasses, his unkempt, curly hair hanging on the sides of his head, bouncing jovially in every movement he made.
“Mr. Leone,” he spoke with unmistakable exhilaration, “we just gotta release the monster…”
PULSE DRUMMING BENEATH his skin, Tommy followed Reena as she walked toward the Waterview. He was quite far from her, and he could sense that she was maintaining distance, unwilling to close the gap that kept them apart for weeks. The estate was big enough to have them both, but time and time again proved their worlds were too small. Tommy would always come across her wherever he was heading, and no matter what he did, he’d always find her.
She was everywhere. In his estate. In his mind.
He’d been wanting to talk to her since they came home from Congressman Shrub’s party. Tommy saw how upset she was after they left Vice Point Langer. She hadn’t spoken to him or questioned him why he said what he said. He wanted to explain to her why he did it, to convince her just to play along and let the rumors die down…
…or they could do it for real. No more pretense. Tommy was more than willing to do so, he knew it to himself, but he also knew she closed her doors long before it… long before she had even come with him to Vice City.
Reena stopped in front of the patio, her hair being blown by the soft gust of wind coming from the sea. She held her arms as if she were cold, making Tommy want to embrace her if she wanted his warmth. It was the same place where they sat that night when she and Claude fought. That night when he was able to slide closer to her side. That night when he cupped her face and grabbed her waist and touched her body, pulling her close to him, so close that their lips crashed into each other–
“I can’t do this, Tommy,” Reena said, her voice cracking in unmistakable apprehension.
All his reveries drifted apart, the words jabbing his chest like multiple needles. The sound of the water splashing on the concrete that surrounded the estate slowly withered. Her back was facing him, she was not moving, and in every moment that passed, Tommy felt that she was gliding away further. The distance between them seemed to expand as if they were miles apart, and he couldn’t reach her no matter what.
Subduing the pain her words brought him, Tommy cleared his throat. “That’s why we have to talk.”
Was that all he could say? To assure her that this was just something temporary, even if he wished it wasn’t? He knew the night they got back into the car, Reena pulled away from what they had. He thought they were getting better together. The way she glanced at him every so often was filled with affection. The sheepish gaze and smile and touch would always make his heart flutter. The night of the party, she just told him he looked great in his suit. She’d put her confidence in him when she hugged his arm as they stepped out of the elevator, letting him touch her hand. She sought his company when she ran to his side and hid behind his back because those women… those fucking hypocrites were mean to her. Had he not let the congressman’s wife drag her, everything would be normal between them.
He put his hand into his pocket, feeling the small box he’d been keeping and wanting to show her. Among the selections he was presented with, he picked the most magnificent pair, the one that matched the beauty of the person who was going to wear it. Earnest Kelly always told him never to turn his gaze away from the beautiful things, and once he caught them, he should never let them go.
And he didn’t. The bands were made of fine gold, plain yet shiny, both adorned with gleaming stones that stole his heart, just like Reena. Without a second thought, he purchased the wedding rings. In his pocket, he’d been keeping the small box all the time, struggling to muster the strength to face her. He wanted to show it to her early on, ask if she liked it or if he needed to pick another one, but circumstances did not permit him to as every time they met in the estate, he’d always find himself avoiding her. Not that she wanted to see him either.
Tommy wasn’t sure what her reaction would be, or if she’d even listen to his explanations. Everything was a blow to the moon, but how would he know if he wouldn’t try? Exhaling the air that aggravated his chest, he closed his eyes and prepared himself, trying to gather the frail courage he needed. It wouldn’t be easy, but he was here. He had no plans of turning back. No plans of giving up.
“I know it’s… it’s ghastly,” he started, though he was unsure whether it was the right thing to say. It would hurt to know if she thought it was horrible for her to marry him. He hoped she’d retort and tell him it was not the case.
She turned around, her face roiling before him, and her eyes… her beautiful hazel eyes that always looked so scared yet so vibrant found it hard to stare at him directly. Reena opened her mouth, stammered, closed her mouth, and opened it again. Her chest heaved heavily, but instead of walking away as she used to in the past weeks, she suddenly slumped on the patio that encased a tall, palm tree.
“Tommy, it’s not like that,” she groaned, briefly glancing at him. Her chin dipped into her chest, and it looked like she was on the brink of crying. “Because of me and Cleo, you’re forced to do something you didn’t want.”
Something he didn’t want? How sure was she that he didn’t want every fucking bit of it?
Taking another risk, Tommy stepped toward the patio, and in slow motion, he sat beside her. He leaned forward, clasping his hands together as his elbows pressed on his knees, keeping his eyes trained on the lenient ripples of the water on the surface in an approaching twilight. The skies were painted orange and pink emboldened by a flock of gliding birds below the wispy clouds. He’d never hung around in the Waterview until Reena showed him how stunning it was.
Fortunately, she didn’t stand to leave. He took it as a sign that he needed to keep going.
To his side, she played with her fingers. She bit her lip, making it look redder, plump, and sweet as the strawberries in December.
“I told you from the start, Tommy. I don’t want us to be a burden to you.”
Her words flowed like a stream of sincere thoughts. It felt like she wanted to tell him that the whole time. When she decided to leave Angel Pine, she showed him how grateful she was for having him by her and Cleo’s side, for all his help, and for the protection and care he provided. She promised him that she’d repay his kindness, unwilling to accept everything he was giving and doing for them for free. Always, she’d show him that they weren’t a weight he had to carry on his shoulders by doing every little thing to make his life better and his estate like a home. Yet, every little thing she did felt so big.
Sighing, Tommy slid closer, somehow invading the space that kept them apart. “I told you I’ll protect you and Cleo for as long as I’m here,” he mumbled, choosing carefully every word that would come out of his mouth. “And it’s not just because I feel it’s my duty, or that it’s our pact. I’m doing this because I–” He faltered, unsure whether he should tell her what he truly felt. Biting his tongue, Tommy rephrased in his mind what he wanted to say. “I’m doing this because I’m your friend.”
“But what about you?” she asked almost skeptically, the tone of her voice sounding so disappointed. “They’re watching you. You… you won’t be able to do the things you wanted–”
“It doesn’t matter what I want, Reena.” He meant it. In fact, he wanted nothing else but this. “Even if Congressman Shrub backed out of our deals, it wouldn’t have mattered. What I want you to do is to think of what’s best for you.”
She stopped playing with her fingers and faced him. “Is this going to affect your businesses?”
Tommy ran his fingers through his hair, brushing up the strands that hung on his forehead. “I can handle it, don’t worry.”
Seagulls mewed from afar, and the sounds they made echoed in the void along with the settling waters of the sea. The sky that was once orange and pink had turned to velvet purple and blue, the dark approaching from the horizon. Tommy sat up straight and put his hand into his pocket again, feeling the small box’s corners.
“If… if we do this, does it mean you’ll keep their support?”
Like a bolt of lightning, Tommy felt a wave course through his veins. From his chest, it spread across his body, down to his guts, up to his head. The corners of the box felt harder, begging him to open it. As his pulse quickened, he drew the object, keeping it within his clutch.
Reena tucked her hair behind her ears, the curls of her tresses streaming on her shoulder. “If I agree to do this,” she continued, making him brace once more, “will I be able to repay you?”
There was nothing to repay. Fuck, she wasn’t even indebted to him! She’d be doing it because she thought he needed her help, which he didn’t, but he knew he couldn’t turn away from the offer. Forcing himself to keep a stern face, he turned toward her and nodded.
She lowered her head, seemingly looking at her hands. Tommy couldn’t read her mind. She’d been skillful in hiding her feelings through faux expressions that concealed her real emotions. For a moment, Tommy thought she was going to shun him away, but all of a sudden, Reena lifted her head, tears welling in her eyes while her lips trembled.
“This doesn’t mean I don’t love Claude, right?”
The multiple needles that once poked his heart had turned to daggers that pierced through his soul. Was that what she felt? That she was betraying Claude for him? That, by living a new life as a new person, she was forgetting about him? He wanted to retort, but when he looked into her eyes and saw the mirrors of her self-doubt, Tommy figured out that she was no longer hiding what she truly felt.
No more fake expressions. Just a raw, painful reality.
“I could never replace Speed,” he muttered, his words ripping his heart apart. “But if that’s what you worry about, then no Reena. You and I know that you love him so much.”
From her spot, she got on her feet, staring ahead at the channel in deep reflection. He thought she was leaving, but she spun around and gazed at him. Her hazel eyes lost their spark, a pit of woe Tommy couldn’t fathom. Waters sloshed on the concrete as the wind stopped blowing, surrounding them with deafening stillness.
All Tommy could do was look up at her, his fingers burrowing into the box that he kept hidden in his hand. Her head moved up and down, and Tommy felt himself release a breath he’d been holding in his lungs.
“Then, I’ll play along...”
Notes:
Thank you for reading! <3
P.S. Dear kind person who keeps on leaving me kudos, I wish you always have good days T_T because you're making mine better!
Chapter 37: Tying the Knot
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
THE ALTAR WAS magnificent. It stood before three massive stained glass windows that shone colorful lights on the table. Large ornaments of white blooms and pampas grass laced the front of the church, accentuating its beauty. The long aisle was filled with lush greenery installations and yellow and white dried flowers at the top. Wreathes and myrtles framed the handrails of the concrete steps leading to the doors.
Tommy could feel his heart bursting. He walked to the altar, finding the spot where he and Reena would be standing later.
With Marcus and Leigh, he arrived at the venue early to ensure that everything was going as smoothly as it should. When he passed by the aisle, he saw some of his mobsters furnishing the flowers and the sheer cloths that connected the tall vases in the nave. Tommy nodded and beamed at them in approval, showing his appreciation for the kind of work they were doing today.
Yet, the excruciating feeling of this folly was taking a toll on him. As he stared blankly at the entrance, he imagined his future wife walking down the aisle, wearing a bright smile on her face, ever so glorious in her wedding dress. But Tommy knew that all of this would remain in his imagination. Reena would come, but not the way he expected to see her.
Just a year. Just a year.
Guests started to arrive, and the people he’d invited greeted him with gusto. The first one was Umberto in his white guayabera, approaching him with widely-open arms. “Mi amigo!” Umberto exclaimed, his laughter boisterously echoing in the church as he embraced and tapped Tommy’s back with his firm, calloused hand. “You’re finally getting married!”
“Thank you for coming, Umberto. I appreciate it.” Tommy smiled faintly as he shook his friend’s hand.
“You know it, my friend. Umberto Robina had been married twice and divorced twice, but you gotta enjoy it while it lasts!”
At the very least, Umberto was able to make him laugh. “Thank you for the reminder, amigo. Leigh will show you your seat.”
After Umberto had left, Doris arrived together with Ted, holding a gift. Tommy greeted them as well and told them they didn’t need to bring a present, but Doris insisted that the cab drivers chipped in for something to give him on his wedding day.
“They were happy to know you’re finally settling down, Mr. Vercetti,” Doris snickered. “I’m excited to see the foolish who’s fallen for you.”
His heart sank. “You’ll see her soon enough, Doris.”
Tommy forced a grin, but deep inside, seeing all these people that they’d deceived into believing in this marriage made him feel more foolish. He couldn’t tell Doris that he was marrying a bride who was not willing to be with him, but they had to keep up the pretense. Accepting the gift half-heartedly, he motioned a hand to the left rows where Leigh led them to their seats.
A thock caught his attention, making him turn his head to the aisle. Maude Hanson was holding a wooden cane while her other hand was on Marcus’s arm. Her eyes were squinting, looking all around as if she was trying to spot someone. As she tugged her gaze to the altar, her eyes grew large when she saw him, dragging Marcus along to approach.
“So, where’s the little imp?” she asked.
Tommy couldn’t help but cackle. “He’ll be around soon. And my son isn’t an imp.” He took Maude’s hand and led her to the front seat. “Thank you for coming, Maude.”
Some of his acquaintances had also arrived. Kent Paul brought along with him a starlet singer who’d sing in the reception later, BJ Smith his fourth wife, P. Rowe and a couple of other police officers Tommy was working with, and Steve Scott with Candy Suxxx as his plus one.
“Glad to know you’re marrying, Tommy,” Steve greeted as he patted Tommy’s shoulder. Candy just smiled at him and mouthed congratulations.
“Thanks, Steve, Candy. You can sit anywhere you want…”
A group of bodyguards in light blue polo shirts and sunglasses entered the church. Alex and Laura Shrub walked down the aisle in their dazzling clothes, grabbing the attention of the other guests in the venue. Tommy wanted to shove them out of the place, dreading every bit of his nerve that invited them. If not because of these two, his relationship with Reena wouldn’t have been strained. Or perhaps, he should also blame himself for saying something that inadvertently cornered her into a ploy.
“My friend, congratulations!” The congressman forcefully hugged him. “My wife’s so pleased with your invitation!”
“Where’s the lovely bride?” Laura asked, looking over Tommy’s shoulder. “After this, tell her to call me so she could join the Wives League. I sent her an invitation to become a board member! I’d love to have her there!”
The audacity. That fucking Wives League and that bitch of a woman with curly blonde hair that splurted about seeing him with Reena and Cleo in Little Havana were ill omens. Trying to stop himself from saying something that both the politician and his wife would not appreciate, Tommy forced a smile on his face.
“She’ll be here soon. Take your seats in the front.”
The couple left, and Tommy motioned for Leigh to come close.
“What’s up, Boss?”
“Tell the boys to stir something up in Shrub’s headquarter in Vice Point so those two would get the fuck outta here.”
“Got it, Boss.”
As the number of guests increased, Tommy felt more anxious. He knew it so well that since they began the preparation, things were not going well for Reena, and he feared that her disinclination would push her not to attend the last step to fulfilling their scheme. When he left the estate that morning, she was already awake, sitting in front of a mirror, staring at nowhere. He didn’t bother her at all.
“Mr. Vercetti!”
Mrs. Hubbard’s jolly voice was rather comforting to hear. In her arms was Cleo, the little boy wearing a mini-white suit just like him.
Tommy smiled, seeing how adorable Cleo looked. “Well, well, look who’s more handsome than Papa?” He took the boy by the crook of his arms and embraced him. “Are you excited?” he asked, though he was aware of how silly the question was.
“The beauticians were almost done before we left,” Mrs. Hubbard said with a full smile. She seemed so thrilled for the two of them that she even volunteered to dress up Cleo for the ceremony.
“Thank you, Mrs. Hubbard. Your seat’s in front. I want Reena to see Cleo anytime.”
He planted a kiss on Cleo’s cheek before his eyes scanned around and landed on Maude Hanson. The old woman, as expected, was scowling and making faces. Tommy lowered his chin into a firm nod, ascertaining to her that the baby he was holding was the son she’d heard of.
“See you later, bud,” Tommy said as he gave Cleo back to Mrs. Hubbard. As the nanny went to their designated place, Marcus approached him from the side.
“Boss, Mr. Kelly’s here.”
Forcing the gloomy feeling down his throat, Tommy dashed toward the entrance to meet the old man. Even Earnest Kelly didn’t know. Only he and Reena had an agreement. This was just a one-year contract, nothing more. After that, they’d separate ways for good.
“Well, sonny, I think I look better of a groom than you do,” Earnest Kelly joked as he reached out to shake Tommy’s hand. The black and white suit fit him perfectly, and the bow was evenly placed on the collar, proof that he’d really taken time to dress up.
“Thank you, Pops,” he responded, struggling to keep his frustration within. “You standin’ beside me, right?”
Earnest Kelly nodded. “I sure will, though I must warn you, your bride might think she’s marrying me.”
Draping an arm around his shoulders, Tommy nudged Earnest Kelly and invited him outside to breathe some fresh air.
ASUKA STEPPED INTO the church in her traditional Kimono while Maria stood beside her in a brown dress with a plunging neckline. There were already a lot of people sitting on the benches. She observed the surroundings, seeing all the posh decorations installed. The aisle was lined up with huge vases of greeneries and dried flowers, thin, white sheets connecting each vase to another in a wave-like pattern, while the carpet that led to the altar was scattered with petals. A man, obviously a member of the Vercetti gang in a Hawaiian shirt, approached them and gave them flower brooches, telling them to wear them on their left chests.
Reena wasn’t around yet, so Asuka took her phone.
“Who are you calling? Don’t you know it’s impolite to use a phone in a church?” Maria reprimanded.
“Don’t start with me, Maria,” she muttered. “I’m calling 8-Ball.”
Maria glanced around, seemingly checking for something. When Asuka lifted her eyes, a handsome lad passed them by. He waved at Maria, and Maria waved back at him with a big smile on her face.
Realizing what her friend was doing, Asuka nudged her arm. “Don’t you know it’s impolite to flirt in a church?”
“Don’t be silly, Asuka!” Maria retorted playfully as she kept on smiling at the bloke. “I’m no Christian!”
Rolling her eyes, Asuka waited for 8-Ball to answer her call but to no avail. Maria had already walked toward the man she was waving at, and soon, they were already talking and touching each other’s arms. She sighed, finding none of the people she was looking forward to talking to before the ceremony began.
She turned around, but as she was about to step out, Asuka halted when she caught a glimpse of the groom at the entrance.
Tommy Vercetti.
Asuka heard a lot about him from 8-Ball these past few days, mostly his reasons for not trusting the man since the beginning. She’d heard of him before when Kenji was still alive, while the Yakuza was planning to expand their casino enterprise in the South. Just like the rumors, Tommy Vercetti had something different in him. Something unpredictable. Something strident. Something ominous.
She curled her hands, feeling her nails dig into her palms, then walked toward him, meeting him halfway down the aisle. “Mr. Vercetti,” she called.
He looked at her quite perplexed just like the old man beside him.
With her arms on the side, Asuka stooped down for a moment, then stood back up again. “I’m Asuka Kasen. It’s my pleasure to finally see you in person.”
Tommy beamed at her, then he did the preemptive bow as well. “It’s also nice to meet you, Miss Kasen. Did you have a pleasant trip?”
“It was smooth and we didn’t meet any problems.”
While nodding, the old man beside him patted his shoulder. “I gotta go to the front now, sonny.”
“I’ll see you in a while,” he said. As soon as the old man walked toward the altar, he turned to face her once again. “Where’s 8-Ball?”
Asuka wondered if she should tell Tommy what 8-Ball was attempting to do. She tried to read his mind, scrutinizing his expression, but he seemed to be just simply nervous. Did he really want to do this? Was 8-Ball right when he said Tommy had planned to take Reena and Cleo, taking advantage of Claude’s absence? Asuka wondered, and she didn’t realize immediately that Tommy was probably waiting for her answer.
He smiled briefly. “The ceremony will start in a few minutes, I gotta go–”
“Wait…”
Tommy halted. “What is it?”
“I congratulate you, Mr. Vercetti. This is such a wonderful ceremony. Almost everyone wants to be married someday.”
Tommy tugged his bow. “That’s… that’s true. I must admit, I’m feeling a bit tense right now…” He chuckled nervously while scratching the back of his head. “By the way, where’s 8-Ball again?”
“We apologize, but he won’t make it. He had something to do.”
“Oh, okay, I uh… I understand. Reena wants him to walk her down the aisle,” he said, dismay distinct in his voice.
Beneath the long sleeves of her kimono, Asuka could feel her sweat rolling down her arms. She lifted her chin and squared her shoulders.
“Mr. Vercetti, I think you’ve been waiting for this moment, haven’t you?”
The question seemed to catch him off guard. He huffed a faint laughter, but Asuka sensed some unease. “Yeah, I think…”
She squinted. “We both know that in marriage, secrets are… a form of betraying your spouse.”
In an instant, the awkward smile on Tommy’s mouth dimmed, the light in his eyes slowly fading away. Its shimmers got replaced with a hint of threat, displeased with what she just said.
“Your point?” His voice sounded stern compared to earlier.
“I hope your bride knows all the details she needs in full consent.”
Tommy scoffed. He took a step forward, but she didn’t move from her position. “Miss Kasen,” he mumbled with his head bowed down. “You and I, we both know, that we did our part. Protecting Reena and Cleo’s my priority, and I seriously think this isn’t the right time to tell her the truth. I, you, your friend over there, and 8-Ball… we’ve all hidden it from her.”
Asuka felt a certain warning in his glare as he lifted his head, to which she responded with a slight simper. “It’s not too late. We believe what you’re doing was predetermined, even before things got complicated.”
His once-menacing glare turned into a hostile glower. Tommy moved even closer until he stilled beside her. They were facing opposite directions, but Tommy dipped his chin, rather close to her ear. Asuka looked over her shoulder in an attempt to face him, but she couldn’t understand why her body froze.
“We’re all at fault here, and if you choose to correct your mistakes today, be sure that your Japanese boys can come to your aid.”
A sudden feeling of dread swept over her, making her tremble.
Tommy stood straight and faced her. “Thank you for coming to our wedding, Miss Kasen, Miss Latore.” Then, he walked away.
Asuka felt her mouth dry. 8-Ball was right after all. Tommy Vercetti was something else.
“Is that Tommy Vercetti?” Maria asked with a hand over her chest. Asuka didn’t notice that she was already standing beside her. “God, he’s gorgeous!”
She didn’t have time for Maria. Asuka didn’t even realize that she’d been holding her breath until her lungs begged for air. Her legs waned, urging her to grab a hold of one of the benches.
Her phone suddenly vibrated, making her jump. When she retrieved it, she saw 8-Ball’s name on the screen. Asuka fumbled to answer the call, her shaking thumb pressing the answer button.
“Hudson, tell me you have something good to say,” she immediately said, hoping to give Reena a reason to reconsider. However, she received nothing but his silence and heavy breathing. “8-Ball, talk to me. What happened?!”
“Sorry, Asuka,” he said in a desperate voice, seemingly on the verge of crying. “I failed…”
REENA’S THROAT DRIED up as she stared at her reflection in the car window. The hollows beneath her eyes seemed darker despite the foundation. She wasn’t able to sleep. In fact, she hadn’t slept properly days prior to the event.
When Mrs. Hubbard came to her room and told her that she and Cleo were already heading to the church, Reena desperately wanted to beg her to stay. Despite seeing how lovely her son was in his little suit, she couldn’t find a reason to be elated. In her room, she was left with the beauticians who said a lot of things that she could no longer recall.
She lowered her gaze. As nervousness consumed her, she started playing with her fingers.
They put big boxes before her, a variety of makeup and tools for hairdressing. She remembered seeing things like those before in that boutique in Belleville… the very place where Claude sent her to get her fixed. Its rustic ambiance played in her memory. The pieces of wooden furniture. The smell of the old rose fragrance in the air. The seemingly unused rooms where the old lady transformed her into someone new. And the memory of his eyes… she remembered the look on his face when he saw her.
Claude told her she looked great for the first time.
The beautician lifted her chin and wiped a wet cloth on her face followed by a generous lathering of moisturizer. The cream stuck on her nose, making her feel the urge to rub it, but when she was about to lift her hand, the beautician put other stuff on her cheeks, forehead, nose, and chin, vigorously spreading it over her face. As they laid the colorful palettes in front of her, Reena glanced at herself once again in the mirror. Her face was shit white, like a ghost.
Her hair looked so dull and pathetic. She always kept it at shoulder length, but since Claude loved to bury himself in her waves whenever he hugged her or they slept beside each other, she professed to keep it long, always ready for him when he came back. Whenever she was lying in bed, she’d recall his breath on her head… the reminiscence of the warm, fuzzy feeling gave her comfort that nobody else could give.
But reality came crashing. No one was kissing her head or her scruff or her cheek at night and in the morning. No one was spooning her, swathing arms around her body on a cold night. No one was wiping her tears whenever she cried herself to sleep, and though she no longer cried that much, no one was taking that pain away. The only driving force she had was her son. Cleo. He reminded her of Claude a lot. The living proof of their love…
Massive wooden doors glared before her through the tinted window as the car she was in pulled over before the church’s entrance.
Her face felt unusual. Silky cream and fine powder covered her whole face. A reddish hue on her cheeks that barely concealed her freckles. Dark brown strokes on her eyebrows paired with thick, fake eyelashes. Rose-colored lips that felt so dense and uncomfortable.
She remembered the beautician asking her if she was excited.
No, she wasn’t. Not a bit of enthusiasm or fulfillment or confidence could be felt in her veins. Everything was gloomy. Uncertain. Hopeless.
The door to the car opened, and much to her reluctance, Reena got out. The white dress detailed with pearls and diamond dust swathed her feet, making it a bit difficult for her to step. The sleeves she wore were long and sleek, covering her arms up to her chest and ending before her shoulder temples, but somehow, in the middle of the day, she felt herself shivering. A small clip held her hair, cut short up beneath her ears, exposing her neck freely. Perhaps, that was the reason why she was chilled.
Holding a bouquet of lilacs in her hands, she dragged her feet toward the church’s entrance.
I can’t do this…
With bells ringing, Reena saw all the people in the church stand as she stepped inside. No 8-Ball was waiting for her at the entrance. Her chest imploded.
A musician started playing the piano, signaling her arrival. From afar, she saw Tommy wearing a white suit and a bow bracing his shoulders and standing firmly at the right side of the altar with an old man. Slowly, she walked down the aisle, feeling herself stiffen with each step. She scanned the people in the pews. All of them were smiling at her, but she could barely recognize anyone. She walked into a sea of strangers whose eyes were all focused on her, making her want to disappear in an instant.
Near the front, Reena saw the congressman and his wife. Laura Shrub smiled at her from ear to ear, but Reena couldn’t make herself smile back. She knew that Tommy invited her and her husband, but seeing the woman made her guts churn.
Midway, she saw Asuka and Maria in one of the rows. Her heart pounded in her chest, the subdued sense of longing suddenly emerging from the depths. She hadn’t seen them since she left Liberty City, and finding them now at the time she needed them the most was rather helpful, though not for long. The air grew stiffer, and despite the dress having some space, allowing her to breathe properly, Reena started to feel that she was choking. Sweat flowed down the side of her face, and the heat, for God’s sake, was so insurmountable that she thought she was going to faint.
Asuka looked at her, seemingly forcing a smile, while Maria stared at her in awe, unaware of the suffering she bore. Reena didn’t take her eyes off her and Maria until she passed by their seat. In her thoughts, she was begging them to get her, but they didn’t. She knew they couldn’t.
Her steps faltered on the carpet, and somehow, she wished she’d just pass out. However, someone scooted toward her and caught the crook of her elbow. The old man beside Tommy was now standing beside her, guiding her hand to wrap around his arm. Halfheartedly, she accepted, and her fingers slightly dug into his muscle. They continued walking.
“I’m Earnest Kelly,” the old man whispered to her gently as they took time to walk, drowning the overwhelming noise coming from the piano. “I’m Tommy’s friend.”
She lowered her head and swallowed. “T-Thank you, Mr. Kelly. I’m… I’m just nervous.”
“Take your time. Tommy could wait. He ain’t going anywhere.”
Reena wished he would. She constrained a smile and glanced at the old man in an appreciation for his kindness.
Near the altar, Mrs. Hubbard stood with Cleo in her arms. Reena felt her eyes sting, seeing her son, making her in some way forget about her apprehension. As she reached the front-most pew, she approached them and kissed the baby on the cheek, staying there for a few seconds until Mrs. Hubbard nodded at her, motioning for her to keep going. When she looked back to the altar, Earnest Kelly was already beside Tommy, patting his shoulder and smiling at her.
Tommy stepped down a bit and offered his hand for her to hold. She didn’t want to take it, but she reached out and took his hand.
The presider, an old man wearing a long, flowing white garment with a purple sash that hung on his shoulders stood before them. Prayers and songs here and there, marking the beginning of the ceremony. The priest said some words, then he motioned his hands downward. All the people settled in their seats, while she and Tommy knelt.
“We are gathered here today to witness the union of these two people, Thomas Vercetti and Serena Lane…”
In her mind, everything around her was blurred. She heard the priest talking, but his words were garbled, muffled blatherings. While she immersed herself in confusion, she felt warm breath in the back of her head, a familiar sense burying in her hair, making her mouth gape.
“Reena,” Tommy whispered and touched her arm. “Are you alright?”
She snapped out of her daze. For a short time, she thought that Claude was with her embracing her from the back, doing what he would usually do when they were together. Shamefully, she nodded at Tommy and looked back to the priest once again.
He said so many things that she did not understand or care to listen to. At times, they were asked to sit, then stand, then kneel again, and time just went away, making her oblivious to what was happening. Often, she’d feel Tommy staring at her, but she wouldn’t flinch. She didn’t want to look at him.
They stood for another time, and the priest asked them to face each other. Reena followed aimlessly, her mind drifting somewhere.
“Thomas, do you accept Serena as your lawfully wedded wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse; for richer, for poorer; in sickness and in health; to love and to cherish until death?” the priest asked, voice sounding so joyful.
“I do,” Tommy answered clearly, making her wonder why it was so easy for him to respond and give away his freedom just to keep up with the deception.
Spinning in haze and confusion, her mind seemed to travel, transcending the realm from which she was in and finding herself in the burning scaffold. The wind blew through her hair and the fiery clouds of dust floated in the distance, hearing the scorching wood crackling beneath the flames.
“Serena, do you accept Claude as your lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse; for richer, for poorer; in sickness and in health; to love and to cherish until death?”
Slowly, she lifted her eyes. Beyond the fire was him in his black leather jacket standing with a smile on his face. He was not in pain. It looked like he wasn’t shot. He had no wounds or scrapes or even burns on his skin. He was happy, just like how he looked at her the morning after the night they made love, amid the soft splash of water from the Liberty Strait and the rays of the sun glowing from the horizon. It was the same smile he wore every time they were together… the same smile he’d shown her after they kissed on the scaffold.
I love you. You’re the love of my life.
Her lips trembled, and soon, tears started to flow from her eyes.
“I… I do…”
The moment she answered, Claude’s image swirled and vanished into the air as fire engulfed him, spreading his dust in the blistering winds. Reena found herself standing and facing Tommy instead, who was likewise staring at her, but worriedly.
“The rings serve as a token and pledge of your love and devotion to one another,” the priest continued as he handed them over the rings.
After taking her hand, Tommy took the ring and gently slid it into her finger. It clung to her skin and bone, that, if and when she wanted to take it out, she wouldn’t be able to.
Tommy held her hand, squeezing it gently.
It had taken her time to get the ring for him, and her hands shakily held Tommy’s. She swallowed the lump in her throat as she put the band into his finger.
All the people in the pews rose once again, clapping for the two of them. The church was filled with jovial noises and cheers that sealed her fate.
“I now pronounce you as husband and wife. Thomas, you may now kiss the bride.”
Reena couldn’t feel anything but emptiness. Her eyes closed as Tommy leaned forward, but she was surprised when she felt a kiss on her cheek. She opened her eyes, seeing Tommy smiling back at her with tenderness as if telling her everything would be alright.
Together, they faced the spectators, and all of them applauded ceaselessly…
I Do. Art by stephydrawsart_ (Reena and background) and peyaya_ (Tommy) (Tumblr, Twitter, and Instagram).
Notes:
Thank you so much for reading! <3
This is one of my favorite chapters T_T
Chapter 38: Waiting Game
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
SELDOM HAD IT been granted to secure an appointment with Judge Oliver Scarbein.
The man had been Liberty City’s Chief of Justice since 1990. With the Supreme Court under his authority for more than a decade, his associates did benefit the most, and though he was infamous for his involvement with certain organizations in the metropolis, he had never been replaced. He was one of the attestations of Liberty City’s true colors – from its great facades and sceneries, tourist attractions, and booming economies, it was rotten to the core, where corrupt politicians and criminals were above law and order.
Salvatore Leone took advantage of that. And Joey? He was taking advantage of it too.
Side-by-side with Ken Rosenberg, Joey climbed the stairs leading to the Liberty City Hall’s entrance. Unlike the usual black suit he wore, Joey put on special clothes this time. He brushed up his hair and shaved his face, making sure that he looked presentable. Quietly, he marched toward the judge’s office, passing by a huge lobby where massive portraits of the city’s officials hung on the walls. Silver and gold trophies of unknown awards occupied the hallways with lavish decorations. Tight-end security cameras peered in all corners of the structure. Grand chandeliers suspended over the high glass ceilings flooded the halls with their dazzling glows, further proving that the energy crisis in Liberty City was a hoax.
More than two hundred years of this shit. No wonder Liberty City was home to people like him… and Scarbein.
Upon reaching the judge’s office, they were welcomed by men in a distinct type of uniform and sunglasses. Their faces were too passive that they almost looked incapable of any emotion. The one with an earpiece approached them. He patted and frisked into the pockets of their suits and trousers, even touching their legs from the apex of their thighs to their ankles and shoes, making sure they hid no monkey business. Joey noticed that Ken flinched as the man touched him somewhere, and it was the first time he’d seen the man smirk since they arrived.
As he stood back up and jerked a nod to the other, the doors to the office were opened. Smoothing his suit, Joey walked in, and he saw Judge Oliver Scarbein behind his desk. He was a stout man with a few strands of white hair surrounding the bare and shiny part of the top of his head. Hollow eyes, pointy nose, and thin, dark lips, an unpleasant combination that ponged menace. He looked more sinister now than he did before when Joey last saw him.
Upon seeing them, the man stood and walked toward them, sticking out a hand.
“Mr. Leone,” the judge greeted. Then, he motioned toward the leather couches in the center. As soon as Joey and Ken settled down, the judge whistled, and a skinny lady in high-heeled sandals entered the office, chest and ass flat, looking at the judge swelteringly. “Make these two gentlemen their cups of coffee, sweetie.”
“Right away, hun…” She leaned down and gave the judge a brief, wet kiss.
The woman’s shoes clanked on the tiles until she reached the door and left. From her, Oliver Scarbein looked back at them and smiled, the lines on his saggy face tripling. “Joey, Joey, Joey… it’s been a long time.”
Indeed, it was. The first time Joey found himself on the same couch was that day. He wasn’t even wearing a suit back then. He withdrew half of his money from the bank, stuck them into a couple of briefcases, and brought them before the judge who accepted them wholeheartedly.
Now, he carried a couple of briefcases once more, containing the money he had left.
“That’s true, your Honor,” he muttered as he adjusted his tie. “I want our transaction to be straightforward. I’m here to ask for a favor again.”
“Legal matters?” The judge leaned back against the soft pillow and tugged his curious gaze toward Ken Rosenberg.
“Yes, your Honor. This is my lawyer, Kenneth Rosenberg. He’s already prepared the counter-affidavit… for formalities.”
Curling his lips, the judge breathed a heavy sigh. Ken opened the bag he was holding and drew an envelope. He held his hand out to the judge, and the latter grabbed the document without a word. Oliver Scarbein read page to page thoroughly, adjusting his spectacle from time to time whenever he flipped to another.
“I thought you want him dead.” The judge licked his thumb and turned to another page, glancing at Joey now and then.
“Yes your Honor, but not in jail.”
When the first favor he asked for had been granted, Joey thought he was going to have peace of mind. He couldn’t be more wrong. Time and time again proved to him that his money had gone to waste.
Ken Rosenberg was right. Waiting was not a way of good revenge. It should be something inflicted… something abominable, and when the lawyer explained to him what would happen if their plan made it through, Joey couldn’t help but agree.
It was a double-edged sword. No, in fact, triple-edged. All three of them would be impaled.
Oliver Scarbein shook his head while clicking his tongue, urging Joey to lift his eyes to him. “Me and Salvatore, we’re very good friends, and it pains to say that his death was so untimely that until now, I can’t imagine he’s gone.”
Joey felt a nerve twitch in his neck. He didn’t answer.
“However,” the judge mumbled as he removed his eyeglasses and tossed the envelope to the coffee table, “this favor’s not something that can be paid with just friendship.”
“We’re very well aware of that, your Honor.”
Ken immediately placed the two briefcases on the table. The lawyer opened one of them, revealing several bundles of hundred dollars stacked neatly, then he opened the other that contained the same greens.
The judge’s eyes started to glisten.
“I assume the amount’s the same as before, eh?” the judge asked, clearing his throat right after.
“Yes, Honorable Scarbein.”
“Very well,” the judge said with a beam on his face. He immediately grabbed the envelope he once set aside, stood, and went to his desk. Getting a pen and a seal, he signed the papers on all pages and stamped them on the front and the last sheets, whistling a jovial tune as he did. “The processing will take long, two years, at least,” he said, walking back toward them, “but I assure you that the decision will be turned over, and I’ll try to expedite the process. This one’s on the house, for Salvatore.”
Joey’s brows churned. “Why will it take so long?”
Oliver Scarbein grinned as he sat back on the cushion, adjusting his bum on the leather covers. “Things like this take time, Mr. Leone. I’ll protect your interest while I protect mine.”
He lifted an eyebrow. He didn’t understand.
Seemingly realizing that he needed to explain it more, the judge sighed and leaned forward. “Turning over a sentence requires a lot of signatures and deals,” he whispered, and Joey could sense his excitement. “We must tread carefully so we won’t stir any suspicions. Capiche?”
Albeit dissatisfied, all that Joey could do was nod and stand up. “Thank you, your Honor.” They shook hands for the last time, then he and Ken strode toward the door. The secretary had just arrived with a golden tray that held two cups of coffee, which she put on the table even though they were already leaving.
“Pleasure to do business with you,” Oliver Scarbein said as they walked away from the office, his voice paling in space.
Frustration began to sink in, and Joey found himself curling his fists, his fingernails piercing through his palm, stinging a bit. He was struggling from keeping himself calm, feeling his chest almost burst in rage. Now, the money he had left was gone. He barely had a million in the bank. Toni Cipriani wasn’t taking his calls. The Leone mafiosos were all asking questions. And he had a lawyer to pay.
He hurried down the concrete steps toward the Stretch at the bottom. A mafioso opened the door for him, and Joey immediately hopped in, forgetting that he was with a companion.
Why did he always have to wait? Why?!
Leg bouncing on the car floor, Joey bit his knuckles as he waited for the vehicle to move. Ken Rosenberg got in and sat across from him, seemingly unfazed.
“It’s gonna take long,” Joey groaned. He understood what the judge said about treading carefully, but didn’t he have many connections, to say the least? “I don’t know if I can wait that long, Ken.”
The lawyer looked out of the tinted window, training his eyes on the random people going up and down the stairs of Liberty City Hall. “Just as they thought it was over, that’s when you’re going to attack, Mr. Leone.”
Joey threw him a glare. Although he didn’t fully know the lawyer and his intentions, Joey was putting his trust in Ken’s strategy. At times, his suggestions and plans were futile like that of the Juju woman, but Joey couldn’t deny that he was amazed by most of his ideas, especially, the brief statements like tidbits of wisdom Ken would occasionally drop along the way, demonstrating the certainty and gravity of his schemes and motives.
The limousine started moving, driving through the highways aiming for Portland. In silence, they cruised, and Joey thought of finding out why Ken Rosenberg was working for and with him. Straightening up in his seat, Joey cleared his throat, and in no time, he caught the lawyer’s attention.
“You’re Tommy Vercetti’s friend. Why are you doing this?” He stared at Ken, eyebrows knitting in confusion. Joey had been dying to ask him the question before, but he always found himself dismissing it.
Ken sneered. “Were. We were friends.”
“So, why?”
Ken ran his tongue over his teeth from left to right. “It’s like having a woman, you know,” he said. “You cherish her, give her what she wants, do everything she asks, and when you become an inconvenience, she’ll dump you as if you’ve never been together.”
Joey’s mouth dropped. He leaned forward, bewildered by the comparison.
“Are you… gay?”
The lawyer burst into roaring laughter, making Joey wonder even more.
“Oh, Mr. Leone,” Ken guffawed. He took his eyeglasses off and brushed the back of his finger on his teary eyes. “You don’t understand. Me and Tommy, we were good business partners. I represented him legally in everything, even in his external transactions. We made a lot of money together, but he put me in a fucking rehab.” His face suddenly dimmed, seemingly remembering something unpleasant. He rubbed his knuckles over his nose while he sniffed, eyes trained afar.
Joey squinted. “What for?”
“Addiction.”
“You’re mad at him because… he wanted to rehabilitate you?”
“No, no…” The lawyer shook his head, his curly hair bouncing with every move he made. “He didn’t send me there for my well-being. He sent me there to get rid of me.”
Ken’s voice hinted at anger, and Joey could sense the grudge running deeply within him. It gave him the impression that the lawyer was not backing down in what they were doing. Loathing a former friend was not foreign to Joey. He knew how it felt, how violent it gutted, how blinding and raging and devastating it was.
He and Ken Rosenberg… they weren’t that far from each other, were they?
“Why would he do that?”
The lawyer looked at him. “Because I didn’t agree with him. I didn’t approve of his decision of taking your sister.”
Serena. That bitch again. How many lives was she going to destroy and relationships to break until she stopped getting involved in other people’s businesses? When she came, things suddenly went shit. She was a writing on the wall that must be scrubbed off the surface.
“Could you just stop calling her my sister? I don’t have a fucking sibling,” Joey retorted, fuming at the image of Serena in his mind.
“Alright.” Opening his purse, Ken pulled out a sachet of white powder, a card, and a straw. He looked at Joey and stuck out his hand. “Want some?”
“I can see you aren’t clean yet.”
“I will never be.” Ken started tearing the packet open. “Friends gotta live through ups and downs, right?”
Joey Leone nodded. “But he dumped you?”
“I tried to contact him, but his secretary said he wouldn’t take calls,” Ken narrated as he scowled. “I got his number from his girlfriend, whom he just dumped as well…”
Tommy Vercetti had a girlfriend? “Who’s the unlucky woman?” he asked, filled with interest.
Ken put a small amount of powder on his palm, then, he pressed it on his nose, sniffing and inhaling every grain until it was no more. He groaned, seemingly feeling great relief, his eyes rolling to the back of his head. His body stiffened, stretched against the seat, head bent backward a bit.
“Do you know… Colonel Juan Cortez?”
The diplomat. Joey had heard of the man before. A soldier-turned-commander that survived countless coupes in his native land. A man known for his connections in the South, from politicians to drug barons to police force to other criminals.
“Yeah, I know him. What about him?”
“He got a daughter. Mercedes. She was Tommy’s partner before… you know. The bitch.”
The car entered the driveway of the mansion, and Joey saw before him the lush terrain of his very own property… and property that his father left to him with very little money, while he gave so much to his lovechild.
A smile began to lace Joey’s mouth. “Ken, we have another potential business partner,” he mumbled as he thought of Mercedes Cortez.
THE THERAPIST WAITED, sitting stationary on a single-seater couch while tapping the pen on her notebook. She took off her eyeglasses and folded them, placing them on the table beside her.
“So, Reena…” she said with a constrained sigh, “would you like to talk about anything? Or, we can set a session for another time?”
From the therapist, Reena shifted her gaze to the window. Until now, she couldn’t recall her name. The woman was very patient with her, but Reena had no plans of sharing anything. She dreaded talking about what happened, and the more she went to the clinic, the more she felt forced. In fact, she’d rather lock herself in the nursery, take care of Cleo, or tend to the garden in the Waterview, but Tommy encouraged her to at least get off steam. It was a nice gesture, but she wasn’t comfortable doing it. After all, she wanted Claude to live in her memory although it might tend to be excruciating sometimes.
“Next session would be nice, Doctor.”
As the therapist nodded with obvious letdown while curling her lips and forcing a smile, Reena stood from her seat and walked toward the exit. Before she closed the door behind her, the therapist cleared her throat, which somehow made her stop for a few seconds.
“Mrs. Vercetti, there’s nothing wrong with being sad, but you have to help yourself to let go of whatever’s holding you back.”
She knew nothing.
“Thank you, but I don’t think I need to let go of anything.”
Reena quickly shut the door, not waiting for the therapist to say more. She didn’t have plans to go back after the session today. If ever Tommy insisted that she should continue, she was more than willing to make up a lie for it.
Once she left the building, she found the Cheetah waiting in the driveway. She was expecting that it would be Leigh who’d fetch her, but she was surprised when Tommy rolled down the window and greeted her with a smile. Sheepishly, she walked toward the passenger seat and gave him a tight beam. She opened the door and sat, latching the seatbelt around her body without saying anything.
“Say, you don't wanna go back?” he asked.
She was astounded that Tommy was able to read her mind. With a slight nod, she answered his question, albeit afraid to admit the truth. It didn’t appear to bother him either. He seemed fine with it.
“I-I think it’s a waste of time… and money.”
Tommy started the engine and drove out of the clinic’s premises, gently treading on the ramp toward the road. Instead of turning in Starfish Island’s direction, he veered to Little Havana, crossing Bayshore Avenue and the lineup of apartments on the roadside.
“Okay. I won’t ask you to go from now on.”
She lifted her eyes. “Really?”
He nodded and smiled. “Yeah. Don’t want you to get uneasy.”
That was thoughtful, but if being with the therapist caused her disquiet, being with Tommy in the car was worse. Half a year had passed since they exchanged vows, but she still couldn’t feel comfortable with him around. Not since then. Even the slightest feeling she had for him were numbed after the night in Vice Point Langer. At first, she wasn’t sure what to call it, but after her silent sessions with the therapist, Reena learned what she was feeling the entire time.
Indifference.
“Thank you…” she whispered, feeling her face flush a bit. She started playing with her fingers, but she stopped the urge to bite her nails. Trying to shake off the awkward feeling, she forced herself to look ahead, finding that they were approaching a stylish structure near an affluent part of Downtown. “Tommy, where are we going?” she asked.
“I have something to keep you busy instead,” he answered, the excitement in his voice was palpable. “You fancy cars?”
They entered the driveway of a modern two-story building surrounded by glass walls. The parking area was fenced with a lawn and an array of palm trees, casting shade on the ground, protecting the place from the everlasting blaze of the sun. Tommy pulled over before a ramp that led to what looked like an underground garage. Reena could see the tails of cars from the small gap.
Flashing in purple glows at the top right side of the structure was SUNSHINE AUTOS, glimmering in the sunlight of midday.
“Here we are…” Tommy said, then he got out of the car.
Reena watched him as he walked toward the entrance, a sliding glass door that accentuated the classiness of the enterprise. Wondering what they were doing here, she reluctantly got out of the vehicle and followed him inside.
The showroom was an immaculate space of glistening tiles and glass walls adorned by minimalist decorations, save for the balloons that danced in the corners and the handrails of the stairs. A long table near a displayed model of a brand-new Esperanto was filled with delectable dishes that lured her senses, though her guts churned inexplicably.
A group of eight people wearing pink collared polo shirts was smiling at her, and on the side, she found Mrs. Hubbard with Cleo. Upon seeing her, the boy squealed in joy and stretched his arms out, mumbling “Mama”, seemingly asking her to get him. Reena obliged, reaching out for her son and kissing him on the cheek. As Cleo clung to her neck, she looked at the old woman, but Mrs. Hubbard just smiled from ear to ear, tilting her head toward Tommy.
Before the group, Tommy stood, taking a deep breath and beaming. “Everyone, as you know, our business keeps on growing. And starting today, my wife…” he said, pointing a hand toward her, “will be your boss. Understood?”
Reena stiffened on her spot, her clutch to Cleo tightening.
“Yes, Mr. Vercetti!” the group answered altogether. “Welcome to Sunshine Autos, Miss Reena!”
It was followed by a boisterous round of applause. Unknown faces gleamed at her, coming to her and shaking her hands. She forced a smile back and a greeting in return while Cleo clapped his hands as well. Tommy and Mrs. Hubbard laughed heartily at the boy whose gestures equally amused her, though she couldn’t shake her confusion. She glanced at Tommy and met his gaze, asking him without a word what was going on, but he only gave her a gentle smile.
Mrs. Hubbard took Cleo from her, then Tommy walked to her side. One of the staff scampered toward him, giving him a bouquet of roses, then he held it out to her. “My welcome gift to you.”
A throng of awes erupted from the staff, but words were stuck in Reena’s throat.
“Tommy, I don’t under–”
“From now on, you own Sunshine Autos. You can do whatever you want. Continue the business, collect cars, change the design and the name, it’s your call.”
Realizing that he’d been holding out the bunch of flowers for some time, Reena reached out for it and cradled it in her arms. She couldn’t help it but beneath the smile she was faking, her face eventually turned into a frown. “Why are you giving me this?”
His hand fell on the arch of her spine, making her flinch a little. Tommy seemed to notice, so he removed his hand in an instant.
“I’m giving this to you because you’re my wife…”
Reena’s mouth gaped as he said the words. The people around them were oblivious to their agreement and her predicaments, but she knew that Tommy could feel it. Without a choice, and not wanting to come off as ungrateful for everything he was doing for her and Cleo, Reena just gave him a firm nod.
“Thank you, Tommy.”
He grinned from ear to ear, satisfied with her response. As he motioned a hand toward the staff, a popping sound suddenly burst, making everybody jump. From the stairs came down Marcus holding a party popper that exploded confetti and glitters all around and Leigh bearing a bottle of champagne that was spilling to the steps, its bubbles fizzling into a chaotic joy that encouraged a jolly bash among the people.
“Well then, let’s celebrate!” Tommy yelled, everyone else did, but Reena couldn’t bring herself to do so.
Notes:
Thank you so much for reading! <3
Chapter 39: Closer
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
A WOMAN IN a short, skin-tight dress with no bra underneath was sitting cross-legged at a table near the terrace in Momma’s Restaurante. She took the glass of champagne, sipped the drink, and tugged her gaze around, peering at the people passing by. Those who saw her seemed unable to look away, their eyes fixated on her protruding breasts. Well, if they looked more carefully, Joey thought, they’d see her thin knickers beneath the glass table.
Mercedes Cortez. He didn’t imagine that she’d push through her response to Ken Rosenberg’s invitation two months ago, traveling from the South to Liberty City. Joey remained at the farthest table from her, near the door, peeking over the newspaper he was holding, observing her movements. She somehow reminded him of Misty, his sweet whore, who just left Sex Club 7 without talking to him after his father died.
Ken told him that Mercedes went away for months after Tommy and Reena’s wedding, joining her father on his trip to Costa Rica for an indefinite break. As far as the lawyer knew, the colonel hadn’t moved on from what happened, and he was yet to make the next plan of action against his old friend.
Three men surrounded her at the table, blocking Joey’s view.
“Hey, mind if we join you?” one of the men asked. Mercedes had no response. She just looked away and sipped from the wine glass.
“Say, are you interested in a drink–”
“Get the fuck out of here.”
Toni Cipriani appeared, standing at the side and glaring at the three men.
“Sorry, man, we’re just askin’ the girl out–”
“Does she seem interested to you?!”
“Okay, alright…” The man standing in the middle raised his hands and dragged his two companions away from the table, walking past Joey’s. “That man’s a fucking psycho, you don’t wanna deal with him,” he whispered as they exited the bistro.
As the chimes dinged above the threshold, Joey turned his attention back to Mercedes and Toni, seeing the latter glowering at the door, then back to Mercedes with an even more confused gaze.
“Excuse me. Are you waiting for someone?”
She looked up, her lips slightly parted, then grinned, her eyes fluttering. “You must be… Joey Leone?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.
“No,” Toni answered firmly, palpably annoyed. “My ma owns this bistro. She asked me to tell you that if you’re gonna stay here for long, you’ve to order something else.” He pointed at the old woman by the doorway to the main house. The old hag. She wasn’t choosing anyone to whom she was going to be rude.
“Mama’s boy, I see,” she teased, propping her elbow on the table and cupping her cheek. “Can you get me another glass of champagne?”
“I’m not a waiter here. If you need something, call for one.”
“You’re handsome,” she smirked, her eyes raking Toni from head to toe. “What’s your name?”
Rolling his eyes, Joey dropped the newspaper and stood, approaching Mercedes’s table. She and Toni looked at him. He removed his cufflinks and folded his sleeves up to his elbows.
“Toni, I see you met my date.” Joey pulled the chair and sat in front of her. She seemed stunned by his actions, staring at him for a moment, then scoffed.
“Really, Joey? Right here?”
Mercedes looked up at Toni again, grabbing his wrist. “So, you’re Toni.” She grinned even wider. “I’m Mercedes Cortez.”
“If you’ll excuse us, Toni, me and Mercedes have something to discuss,” Joey said, patting Toni’s forearm, then facing her again.
Toni shook his head, then he went to a waiter, pointing at their table. Taking a last glance at him and Mercedes, Toni marched back to their house, passing by his scowling mother at the doorway.
Joey took a deep breath. Mercedes’s perfume was sweet to his senses, like honey, but potent, a bit overpowering. He stuck out his hand and forced a smile on his face. “I’m Joey Leone.”
Her lips quirked upward into a playful smile, then she took his hand, her red-painted nails glistening. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Joey.”
The waiter that Toni talked to earlier came to their table, carrying a small, stainless bucket with a bottle of champagne. He twisted its cap and opened the bottle, a faint mist coming out of its mouth, spilling into the case. Once done with the task, the waiter left them alone, and Joey grabbed the bottle, pouring himself a little.
“Do you want some?”
“I didn’t think he’d take it seriously,” she said, looking in the direction where Toni had gone. “But I’m fine, thanks.”
Joey curved his lips downward. He put the glass’s rim close to his mouth, smelled the liquor, and took a swig. A disturbing silence engulfed them save for the music playing in the bistro, more often than not drowned by the sounds of the engine that passed by and the buzz of people coming in and out of the area.
Ken would be joining them later, but he had to go to the city hall and provide some documents that the judge was asking for.
He trained his eyes on Mercedes. She didn’t look like the kind of woman who’d be desperate for someone who dumped her, making Joey more curious as to what her intentions were for accepting their invitation. Her red, full lips, beautiful face, and sultry body exclaimed her confidence and verve, but those appeared to be insufficient to keep Tommy Vercetti from leaving her.
Even to Joey, his bitch of a half-sister was better in every aspect. Her eyes, her face, and even her fucking body. She wasn’t compelling at first glance, but she was interesting, mysterious, and rare, making Joey want to get into her core… into her center. It was something he couldn’t admit to anyone, not even to Toni or Ken. As much as he hated her with every nerve in his body, she was also the only person that awakened something in him. A beast he’d been keeping for so long. A monster he hadn’t unleashed.
He heard she looked a lot like her slut mother. No wonder his father wasn’t able to keep it in his pants.
Whenever Joey was touching himself or he was sleeping with someone else, he was thinking of her, imagining how her face contorted as he loomed over, how her voice sounded as she screamed, how she gasped for air once he closed his hands around her neck, not stopping when she asked him to stop, not budging when she pushed him away–
“Ken said you have a proposal for me and my father.” Mercedes tilted her head, her hair bouncing to the side. “What is it that you plan?”
Joey felt his mouth dry. He took the wine glass and gulped everything. After putting it down, he touched the seams of his necktie, loosening the knot slightly. He needed air to breathe.
“I want us to work on something you might be… interested in.”
Mercedes looked at him, confused but intrigued. She dragged her chair inward, tucking herself further under the table. Her breasts bulged out even more.
“What is it?”
Power. Serena had something he didn’t have, and he wanted to take it from her. She had their father’s love. She had people protecting and choosing her. She was living life after she destroyed others. And here he was, miserable, alone, and hopeless, seeking to avenge someone who didn’t value him enough.
But he wasn’t stopping.
“How does it feel to be betrayed by someone you like so much?”
It was not a question he intended to ask Mercedes. She squinted, seemingly unexpecting either. The thought just came to his mind like it had been there, waiting for the right time to ensnare, to take the opportunity and be known. Something about Mercedes made him say it… something that drew him toward her because they were very much the same.
“Insulting, especially if you’ve been with that someone for quite some time.”
As he thought. Joey nodded, finding himself agreeing with what she said. “That’s right…” he commented. “I assume that’s how you felt when Tommy left you and what you had for someone else.”
Ken told him that she and Tommy never made it clear what they were. Mercedes didn’t want to get into a relationship with anyone, and Tommy did neither, so they kept their bond civil. But they always came back to each other no matter where they went or who they were with, and yet, after so many years, Tommy had gone astray.
“He was not the person I used to know. Tommy loved being free, and I don’t understand why he chose to be tied down.”
“You must hate that woman, don’t you?”
Her jaw stiffened. “I thought I didn’t. But thinking about it now, yeah, I do. I don’t know what she had and did that I didn’t have and do.”
Joey felt Mercedes’s words penetrating his psyche, and the sudden growth of the lump in his throat ascertained her words’ effect on him. Who wouldn’t be livid?! Tommy replaced her with a woman he barely knew… a woman with baggage, just like what Salvatore did to him. His father replaced him with a woman he didn’t know his whole life, claiming to be his daughter, and yet, Salvatore gave her more than everything.
They were fucking same.
“I hate her,” she murmured firmly, contempt palpable in her voice.
Joey nodded. “I hate her too.”
She snickered. Mercedes leaned forward and took his hand, putting her fingers between the spaces of his fingers like an ampersand. Joey looked her in the eye, trying to dig through her thoughts, attempting to read her mind, but he only saw himself. A reflection of his madness. A mirror of his wrath and pain and humiliation.
“Who’s she to you?”
“Let’s just say… she got something that must be mine. My father.”
Mercedes’s hold tightened. Joey felt her fingernails pierce through his skin.
“There was a man she was with before Tommy," Joey said, "and that man, the real father of her child, murdered my father.”
One hurt after the other… one person after another.
“So, what’s the business proposal?” Mercedes asked.
“Hold your horses, lady.” Joey glanced at his watch and the bistro’s entrance.
The glass door opened and the chime jingled, catching their attention. Ken Rosenberg wore a wide smile on his face, his curly hair flowing from his head, and his tinted eyeglasses clung above the tip of his pointy nose. He pulled a chair and turned it around, wedging it between his legs. There was a hint of excitement in the way he beamed.
“It has commenced, Mr. Leone.” Ken tossed a folder toward Joey, and he accepted it while smiling ear to ear. The lawyer stared at Mercedes, looked at her breasts, and grinned more deviously. “It’s nice to see you, Mercedes. Lookin’ good.”
Unfazed, Mercedes gazed between him and Ken, back and forth, bewildered by their common understanding. But her eyes lit up, interest sparking, an assurance that they had her cooperation.
“We’re gonna start a little war here, you know. Good friends to worse enemies. It’s gonna strain the relationship real bad…” Joey said, closing the folder in his hands.
She listened ardently. “How do I benefit from this?”
“Simple…” Joey poured himself another drink. “Your father would be able to get back at Tommy, or… you can get him back.”
Mercedes nodded, seemingly pleased, then she looked at Ken, raising an eyebrow. “What about you? What are you gonna get?”
Ken scratched the tip of his nose and sniffed. “Tommy will realize that his decisions were bad and that dumping us is his worst judgment.”
A smirk laced her lips. “And you?” she asked, glaring at Joey.
Joey looked at her with a brooding smile. “It’s gonna break all of them apart. That’s what I wanted to see.” He looked at the wine glass he was holding, swirling and watching the champagne move in circles. “And when they’re all fucking broken, I’m gonna make them pay for everything that they’d taken away from me.”
Mercedes was quiet for a while. Like Joey, she looked at the glass. The light reflected on it, showing its brazenness, daring, and protruding. She lifted a hand and tucked her hair behind her ear, sighing resolutely.
“Well then,” she said, unholding Joey’s hand. “Count me in.”
TOMMY GRABBED A tea bag from the jar on the island, submerging it into the cup filled with scalding water. Mrs. Hubbard stood beside him, watching him put a cube of sugar into the drink, nodding at every correct move he made.
“Just one?” he asked, looking at the old woman.
“Yes, Mr. Vercetti. Just one. Reena doesn’t like it too sweet.”
“What about creamer?” He pointed at the jar of white powder.
“No, she likes it plain.”
He carefully picked up the cup and laid it on a saucer, then he placed the saucer on a tray beside a small plate of crackers. It wasn’t his strongest suit to balance things, but he was willing to try.
“Thanks, Mrs. Hubbard. I’ll take it from here.”
If something insulted him so much in this whole ordeal, it was Marcus and Leigh watching him from the balcony of the second floor, counting each step he made as he climbed up the stairs and cackling at each moment the cup rattled and spilled a tad. But Tommy had no time to retort or react. Later, they’d get their time and they’d regret even smiling.
Success coursed through his veins as he made it to the landing, urging him to take a deep sigh. He turned away from his henchmen and walked down the hall.
Tommy wanted to think that Reena had become softer. Since she began working at Sunshine Autos, there were times when she approached him and talked to him. Work matters, mostly, and questions related to the showroom, but at least, once in a while, he’d seen her smile at him.
Carefully holding up the tray, Tommy mustered the strength to call on Reena from her closed bedroom door. He cleared his throat, however, the lump that had been there didn’t go away. He touched his neck, and as he did, he heard footsteps approaching from the inside, making him almost flip the tray, a second away from wasting all the effort he exerted just to get to her without spilling the drink.
The door before him opened, light shining through the gap. Reena looked so surprised to see him. He forced a nervous smile as gently as he could, but he wasn’t able to avert his eyes from looking at her quite intently. She was in her robe, seemingly ready to go to sleep. When she saw what he was holding, she stepped back and opened the door wider, reaching out for the tray.
“Where’s Mrs. Hubbard?” she asked, looking up at him sheepishly.
“Oh, I uh… I told her I’ll bring this to you.”
She seemed to avoid looking him in the eye. “Thank you. You didn’t have to.”
He knew he didn’t and shouldn’t, but Tommy was too determined to find a way to talk to her and spend time with her, even just for a short time. “I have nothing else to do anyway,” he said, scratching his head.
Reena placed the tray on the bedside table. Then, she faced him again, pursing her lips. “Do you need anything?”
Tommy constantly told himself that her aversion was normal, considering how she forced herself into committing to something she was not willing to put a foot forward. He knew she needed time and space, and he gave it to her. Eight, long, grueling months of yondering and just silently watching from afar, but it was better than nothing.
Marcus and Leigh had been asking about what happened to them. He asked them to stop calling her Mrs. Vercetti, though she technically was, as he knew it would make her uncomfortable. He dismissed their concerns, often telling them to mind their own business, but Tommy found himself asking the same question.
What happened to us?
But now, he had to do something. On Saturday was Cleo’s first birthday, and he was not letting the time pass by as if it was nothing.
“I… I dropped by Cleo’s room. He was already asleep. Shall we… talk about him?”
She stood at the foot of the bed with her arms folded over her chest, holding the ties of the robe she was wearing. Tommy thought of approaching her, but not even an inch she moved forward, and her frowning face proved her hesitancy to talk.
“About him? Why?”
“His, uhm…” Tommy smacked his lips and wrinkled his nose, unsure if it was his call to discuss the matter with her. “His birthday?”
“Oh,” Reena muttered in an instant. She went around the bed, to the other side, putting a clear gap between them. He wouldn’t be able to move toward her, unless, he walked around the bed too. “What about it?”
The way she asked felt like she wanted to end the conversation right then and there. A distinct disinterest in the tone of her voice and forlornness in her eyes made Tommy want to back out, but he couldn’t. He kept his feet planted on the floor, though rigid and bracing.
“I was thinking, what if we have a party? Or go somewhere that he’d enjoy, a resort out of town or something so we can celebrate. What do you think?”
Mrs. Hubbard told him that Reena didn’t want to do anything. And though Reena wasn’t saying it, he knew the reasons. Why on earth would she want to throw a party for her son whose father she lost? Why would she want to celebrate the day she was almost killed by her half-brother in her very own house, witnessing how one of her friends almost died? Why would she want to hold a feast while living with him in the estate, a husband she just married out of pressure and debt of gratitude?
Reena told the old woman there was nothing to celebrate, but maybe she’d find it deep inside her that her love for the little boy would give her some sense. A herald for the life she made.
But she shook her head almost instantly. “No, no… Cleo’s still young. He’s still a baby. He didn’t need a party. I don’t wanna do something that he wouldn’t recall. Better to keep it simple. I’ll… I’ll bake him a cake and we’ll cook some food.”
She was firm and resolute. Tommy moved closer to the bed. “Would you like me to help you?”
“No, me and Mrs. Hubbard can do it.”
He nodded while his lips tightened. He felt ridiculous. He smiled at her, though he could feel his eyes rather sting and his chest shrink.
Rejected. Again.
As he promised, he just wanted to give them both a normal life, but Reena seemed to reject every effort he made. She was more dismissive and more unwilling. Every single time he did something for her, Tommy respected her boundaries. He wanted to prove he wanted nothing in return, but it seemed like she saw everything as an additional debt… something she needed to pay forward.
Reena looked at the door, then back at him. Tommy lowered his head, sensing that she wanted him to leave. Being in her bedroom tonight seemed too much.
“Alright, I think I’ll just buy him a gift,” Tommy smiled and stepped back, brushing his hands off his pants. He gestured slightly at the tray and smiled. “I hope you’ll like the tea. I put just a cube of sugar. Good night, Reena.”
Albeit he wanted to hear whether she’d say anything back, Tommy quickly fled the room and dared not to look back.
The last thing he wanted to do was to scare her. He didn’t want to give her a reason to move away from him further, and even if she’d kept on refusing him, Tommy promised himself that he’d endure it all.
It might hurt now, but tomorrow, it would be better.
Notes:
Thank you so much for reading <3
Chapter 40: In Denial
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
THE NURSERY WAS quiet, bathed in the gentle glow of hazy light filtering through the sheer draping. Soft twinkling music filled the air, its melodic notes creating a soothing ambiance. A stuffed bear sat perched on the couch, basking in the warm glow that streamed through the window.
As reluctant as she was, Reena stepped into the room, her gaze sweeping over the scene. The soft murmur of love and adoration reached her ears, accompanied by a faint chuckle and a gentle hum. Her attention was drawn irresistibly toward the familiar voice, a voice she hadn’t heard in what felt like an eternity.
Her heart ached, yearning to hear it once more.
The nursery lay before her in a beautiful mess. Blankets were playfully ruffled on the floor, toys scattered out of their organizers, and open books with flipping pages danced in the breeze. Reena marveled at how different the room felt from her memories of it just the day before.
And then, she lifted her eyes, and time seemed to freeze. Her heart skipped a beat, her breath caught in her throat, as she beheld the sight that seized her senses.
Donning the black leather jacket she’d given him long ago, Claude cradled Cleo in his arms. He swayed gently, like the caress of a gentle breeze, as he sang a lullaby to their little boy. Her heart swelled with happiness. It was a melody she’d never heard him hum before, and listening to the soft cadence of his voice made her feel as if she were adrift in a dream.
“Claude... you came back...” she whispered, her voice trembling with in awe. A drop of tear escaped her eye, tracing a delicate path down her cheek. Her hands instinctively pressed against her chest, above her heart, which felt as if it would burst with the surge of happiness and longing that consumed her.
He looked at her, and their eyes locked. A beautiful smile graced his lips, radiant and captivating. Slowly, he moved closer, his face glowing with a warm radiance. Reena couldn’t tear her eyes away from him, cherishing every moment of his dreamy gaze. He extended a hand, his touch gentle and familiar, as he drew her close.
Their breaths intertwined, mingling in the air that they shared, so close yet so painful.
“You’re wonderful, Reena...” His voice, like a whisper in her ear, sent shivers down her spine.
Reena’s breath hitched, and she opened her eyes, finding herself back in her room, tangled in the sheets that enveloped her. It was the fifth consecutive day that she’d dreamt of Claude. Each dream was a different scenario – lying in bed while wrapped in each other’s arms, sitting together in the garden in the middle of blooming flowers and fluttering butterflies, and standing near Newport gazing out at the Liberty Strait.
The reality was harsh, but these dreams offered a respite, even if temporary. They brought a glimmer of hope to her mornings, however fleeting.
Reena slowly pushed herself upright, preparing for another day, but she couldn’t help but feel an impossible anticipation… a flicker of hope that sparked within her, breathing life into her weary soul.
What if… Claude’s really here?
But deep down, it was foolish to hold onto such dreams. She couldn’t help but feel a tinge of disappointment as she entered Cleo’s room, finding Mrs. Hubbard playing with him on the floor. The car toys were spread across the carpet, and the little boy gleefully waved them in the air.
No Claude.
“He woke up early, dear,” Mrs. Hubbard said, her voice warm and concerned. “Are you alright?”
Reena glanced at the wall clock, realizing she had overslept, leaving the old woman to care for her son the entire morning. She forced a smile, an attempt to conceal her emotions, and joined Mrs. Hubbard on the floor. Together, they played with Cleo, his laughter and blabbering filling the nursery.
But within her, the ache remained – a constant reminder of the dreams she dared to hold onto, the dreams that seemed destined to slip through her fingers.
Eight months had slipped by since she tied the knot with Tommy. Reena fought tirelessly to reshape her life, yet, she found herself caught in an endless struggle. She tried to go back to normal, which proved futile, often serving as painful reminders of the past rather than providing solace for the present.
Her attempts to reignite her passion for baking only deepened the ache within her heart, reminding her of Claude and the time they spent together. Even the shed, intended as a distraction, echoed with the bittersweet memory of her desire to grow lilacs, the flower Claude had gifted her. The thought of reaching out to her friends in Liberty City, particularly 8-Ball, lingered in her mind, but the fear of his disapproval regarding her marriage stifled her courage.
The Waterview, once a haven, lost its allure. It no longer brought the same joy as before. Immersing herself in her work at Sunshine Autos became her refuge, her mind consumed by overseeing transactions and the arrival of new vehicles. Days blurred together as she dedicated herself to her responsibilities, often returning home in the evening.
She turned all her attention to Cleo, finding solace in caring for him. Playing, feeding, and reading stories to him became her respite, offering a temporary relief from the loneliness that haunted her nights.
Then, each evening, she retreated to her room, clutching Claude’s jacket, trying to reminisce the feeling of his warmth until sleep finally claimed her.
Just four more months and this will all end, she often told herself.
“Dear, is it okay if I go downstairs for a bit?” Mrs. Hubbard suddenly asked.
Reena just nodded at her and smiled, then the old woman left the room quite in a hurry.
She stared at Cleo for as long as she could. Time flew by so fast. He was just the little angel she swaddled in white cloth and carried in her arms, and now, he had grown into a beautiful boy who could already stand on his own. His brown hair and deep, doe eyes reminded her so much of his father.
Life would have been different if Claude were still with her. Maybe, they were still in Angel Pine, living in their beautiful home at the foot of the mountains, enjoying the peaceful world that she and Claude dreamed of. She imagined him and Cleo together on the lawn, chasing each other while laughing, the dried leaves scrunching beneath their feet as she watched them from the porch at sunset.
Wishful thinking.
She reached out for her son, brushing his hair up and revealing more of his bubbly face. Cleo smiled at her, his little growing teeth peering from his mouth, making her bite her lip.
“Happy birthday, baby.” She grabbed him by the crook of his arms and hugged him tightly, planting kisses on his fluffy cheek. “I love you.”
Mrs. Hubbard came back, looking a bit spent. Reena squinted and beamed, staring at the old woman in wonder.
“Are you alright, Mrs. Hubbard?”
“Yes, yes I am, dear… I am…” the old woman panted. She went to the couch and sat, wiping the trickles of sweat on her forehead. Though she looked exhausted, she seemed a bit too exhilarated. “Just busy preparing lunch.”
“You should’ve told me. I could’ve helped…”
“Aren’t you going to go downstairs, my dear?” Mrs. Hubbard asked, seemingly insinuating something. “I’m sure you’re going to love it.”
“Love what?” Reena asked. “Is something going on–”
“Mama…” the boy blabbered, touching her face. He pointed at the door as if telling her that he wanted to go out.
Reena didn’t want to leave the nursery. She planned to spend this day with her son, just the two of them, cuddling and doing things they loved doing together. Albeit reluctant, Reena resigned. “Alright. It’s time to eat anyway.” She stood and picked Cleo up. “Let’s go, Mrs. Hubbard.”
The boy was heavy, but she never got tired of carrying him. She often wondered if Claude were with them, would he always carry their son, just like her? Would they be inseparable, just like how she couldn’t take it being separated from her little boy? Reena found herself smiling at the thought as she snuggled close to Cleo’s cheeks.
As they approached the stairs, Reena noticed Tommy’s men holding big platters and walking out of the door. Her face churned, wondering what was going on. Carefully, she climbed down, scanning the foyer. The moment she reached the ground, Leigh appeared, grinning at her so delightfully.
Her brows lifted. “Hi… what’s going on?”
Leigh tilted his head. “Just right on time, Miss!”
She felt a hand on the small of her back. Mrs. Hubbard caught up with them, and like Leigh, the beam on her face was insurmountable. Reena trailed after Leigh, waving a hand for her to come along. Something was telling her not to follow, but a force dragged her to where they were going. They went out of the door, rounded the terrace, and headed for the Waterview, passing by the shed and hedge maze.
Cleo squealed, pointing at the trimmed bushes with colorful balloons stuck between the twigs and branches and pennants hanging at the top.
“Mama!” he cried out, telling her without a doubt he wanted one of them.
Her stomach slowly sank.
Marcus was busily ushering the other men to set the food on the table. At the far end, the grill was smoking, the smell ascertaining of something decadent being cooked. Utensils and glasses clanked while they were being laid on the table that was adorned with more balloons and party decorations. When Marcus saw her, he motioned for the men to stand on the sides, and they all immediately stood like royal guards welcoming the king to arrive.
“Happy birthday to you… Happy birthday to you…”
Tommy appeared from the poolside, wearing the biggest grin she’d ever seen him with. He was holding a three-tier round cake on a platter, at the top was a candle blazing akin to a firework. Marching to the table like an excited child, Tommy chanted the song, and everybody, including Mrs. Hubbard, Marcus, and Leigh, sang along with him, clapping their hands slowly to the rhythm.
“Happy birthday, happy birthday…” Tommy halted across from her, peering at them over the candle’s spark. “Happy birthday, Cleo…”
A resounding cheer erupted everywhere, drowning Reena with her thoughts. She embraced Cleo more tightly, her chest bursting with an overwhelming emotion.
Tommy did it again.
“Mama!” Cleo pointed at Tommy. “Cake!”
“Come on, bud!” Tommy stepped closer, making her freeze. “Reena, you gotta make a wish–”
“What are you doing?” she asked, unable to conceal the disdain in her voice.
Tommy looked surprised. “It’s… It’s Cleo’s birthday…”
When Tommy came to her room that night, she knew that he was trying to mend their relationship once again. He had been so patient… so kind, but she was steadfast in refusing, not giving him a bit of hope because that was the last thing she would ever do.
Or had she, at the very least, given him something to look forward to?
She told him they didn’t have to celebrate, and she meant it. Reena closed the door as soon as he left. She remembered pressing her forehead against the door, thinking how cruel and rude she was, wanting to call him back, but she didn’t. Tommy was a friend, always would be, but he wanted something more, something she couldn’t give… could she?
It broke her heart to break his, but she had to.
She didn’t want to give herself hope either.
“Come on!” Tommy urged. Everything was prepared, and all Reena needed to do was sit down and swallow her pride. The big grin hadn’t left his face. It was so bright. It was so sincere. He was so handsome. “We prepared a lot of food for us to enjoy. You know, I cooked the–”
“We’re not celebrating,” she murmured, loud enough only for Tommy to hear. “I thought I made myself clear.”
Tommy’s smile paled. Though the candle remained ablaze, it had given her a good look at how his joy died down. Yet, he seemed to force a smile again, the sides of his lips twitching, refusing to surrender. “I-I’m sorry–”
“We’ll just go back to the room.”
“Why? Won’t you eat with me–”
She didn’t wait for him to finish. As swiftly as she could, she turned around and walked back to the mansion. Cleo began to fuss in her arms and kept on mumbling her name, pointing in the direction where Tommy was as if saying he wanted to go back. When she didn’t, her son started to wail, crying “Papa” as they crossed the terrace.
“Stop it, Cleo,” she said, feeling her own throat shudder.
“Reena! Wait for me!”
Glancing over her shoulder, she found Mrs. Hubbard running after her, worry haunting her face. Reena looked back ahead, hearing the old woman’s footsteps scoot behind her, but she didn’t care. She needed to get away from Tommy no matter what.
“Mama!” Cleo cried even louder. She was willing to endure his pitiful pleas as long as they were back inside their bedroom.
“Dear, Reena… what’s going on?” Mrs. Hubbard probed as she followed them up the stairs.
Mrs. Hubbard must have known. Was it the reason why she told her to go downstairs so she’d have no choice but to face Tommy? To deal with him? To just chalk it up, bite her tongue, and stand down? Yet, she had no time to question the old woman. It wasn’t only her fault.
Why couldn’t they just accept it when she said she wanted nothing for this day?
Reena headed straight to the nursery, not stopping even for a moment as she walked down the hall. She couldn’t imagine how fast she strolled, almost running, and Mrs. Hubbard followed her in haste. Upon entering the room, she put Cleo down in the crib, grabbed a bag, and opened the drawers, taking a handful of his clothes.
The old woman stood at the doorway, holding her hands to her chest, gasping for breath. Her worried face frowned even more as her eyes followed every Reena’s movement. “Dear, you need to calm down…”
“Please put Cleo’s things in here,” she said, pointing to the bag.
“Your husband just wants to celebrate with you…”
She stiffened, her hands that gripped Cleo’s things quivering. She didn’t have to explain herself. Not even Mrs. Hubbard could stop her. She was at her wit’s end, no longer able to tolerate Tommy’s attempts. She just needed to subside, and later, she’d do what she should have done a long time ago…
Her gorge pulsated as she glared at Mrs. Hubbard. “I’m sorry, but this is none of your business,” she answered.
In a swift motion, she gathered all Cleo’s things she could get and chucked them all inside the bag. Then, she picked up Cleo once more, seized the bag, and walked past the old woman, heading toward her bedroom. As soon as they were inside, Reena locked the door, making sure that no one could ever convince her otherwise.
Reena put Cleo on the bed, placing a couple of pillows on his sides. Tears streamed down his face, his cheeks and nose flushed, but Reena bit her lip to subdue her guilt. She wiped his face with a clean cloth, then she rushed to the closet and flipped the louver doors wide open. At the very bottom was the suitcase they used when they moved to Vice City. She took it, laid it open on the foot of the bed, and began to collect all her clothes. She removed the hangers, folded and crumpled each, and stuck them inside the suitcase. No matter how many or bulky they were, she shoved them all inside without a thought.
We should leave… we should leave…
From the drawers beneath the massive window, she drew everything out, tossing them over her clothes. Reena pressed her weight on the suitcase, trying to fit them all in the limited space. It barely closed as the stuff of clothes and other things bulged and overflowed.
Her limbs weakened, and after trying so hard to stuff everything into the suitcase, Reena sat on the edge of the bed, her mind a swirl of conflicting emotions. She stared out the window, lost in a sea of thoughts that crashed against the shores of her heart.
Should she follow her own desires, or sacrifice her happiness for the sake of others? The image of Tommy’s face flashed before her eyes, his earnest smile etched in her memory. He had been there for her, providing stability and support when she needed it most, but she hurt him.
She couldn’t give it to him… or could she?
What do I feel for him?
Reena clutched her chest. Could she selfishly pursue her own happiness? Or should she forget and move on?
A gust of wind rustled the curtains as if nature itself was questioning her resolve. She traced her fingers along the ring that Tommy gave her. Was it fair? Could she truly find happiness if it meant breaking the promises she made with him?
Reena closed her eyes, seeking solace in the darkness. Her head swirled, each thought a harsh wave crashing upon her walls…
Notes:
Do you think Reena is being reasonable with her reactions?
Thank you so much for reading! <3
Chapter 41: Ball Game
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
TOMMY SAT ON the bar, twirling the empty snifter in his hand while staring nowhere.
He was tired. So, so tired.
Before he could even finish the question, Reena had already walked away from him, not even bothering to look back. A profound sense of rejection crept beneath his skin, mingling with an even stronger feeling of unappreciation. Out of anger, he grabbed the plates that he lost count of and threw them to the ground, shattering them apart into multiple shards. Marcus and Leigh and the rest of the mobsters were shocked, all of them stopping midway from approaching the table.
He was so tempted to tell her the truth.
With a heavy heart and emotions running high, Tommy called for Marcus and Leigh, urging them to take him to the Pole Position Club. Upon arrival, the club was still closed, but he impatiently unchained the bolt and stormed inside. His mind was burdened with countless thoughts, and for hours on end, he sought refuge in the bottom of countless bottles, leaving behind a scene of emptiness and despair.
The club was filled with the acrid smell of cigarette smoke, adding to the suffocating atmosphere that enveloped him. Without a second thought, he grabbed an unopened rum bottle, its contents a desperate attempt to numb the pain within. With trembling hands, he opened the bottle and took a long swig, the fiery liquid leaving its mark on his cheeks and chin as he gulped it down as if trying to drown not just his sorrows but also the haunting memories that lingered in his mind.
He had no face to show to his men, but was that what really angered him?
No. It was not.
Tommy always tried his best. He strived to ensure Reena and Cleo’s safety, pouring his heart into providing for them. From the moment he set foot in Angel Pine, he knew he’d do everything to fulfill the promise he had made to his friend – to take care of them, to shield them from hardship, and to offer them a life filled with love and security.
If something happens to me, promise me. You’ll keep Reena safe.
His business activities never deterred him from being there for Reena and Cleo. Despite being occupied with numerous transactions and managing his dealerships, Tommy always found a way to carve out time for the two. He took in the role not just as a husband but also as a dedicated father.
But Reena? The walls she built around herself seemed insurmountable, creating a barrier that Tommy couldn’t surpass.
He ached to feel the warmth she once showed him, but something had shifted, and he couldn’t comprehend how they’d drifted so far apart. He’d steal glances at her from a distance, the pain in his heart growing with each passing day. His attempts to reach out were met with her reluctance, leaving him feeling like a stranger. As the nights grew longer, he wondered if they could ever find their way back to how they were before.
Tommy was still in denial. He sought solace in Cleo, hoping that through the little boy, he could find a way to reconnect with Reena. Yet, time and again, she’d make excuses, slipping away from his attempts to mend their relationship.
Whenever he mustered the courage to visit her, his heart would pound with anticipation, yearning for just a few moments to spend with her. But Reena’s gratitude was tinged with distant politeness, and he could feel her closing the door on him, both physically and emotionally. The sting of her rejection cut deep, but despite all this, Tommy clung to the hope that someday, somehow, Reena would open her doors and let him in.
Now, he knew why he felt guilty. He knew why he felt rebuffed. He knew why he was enraged.
I can’t take it anymore.
After countless hours of trying to get himself drunk, Tommy stood dizzily. He slammed a hand on the counter, catching the bartender’s attention. “I want an escort, private room. Now.”
Tommy didn’t wait for an answer. He walked toward the back corridor, holding a bottle of half-drained rum in his hand. His legs waned with every step, almost tripping on the cold tiles, but he didn’t fucking care. As soon as he made it into the corner-most room, he sat on the round couch, facing the mini-stage with a pole in the middle. Several other bottles lay on the table, all empty, beside ashtrays that hadn’t been cleaned just yet.
A stripper entered the private room. Colorful lights flashed in the corners, giving him a glimpse of the woman. She was dressed, but somewhat not. Wearing a large cowboy hat and leather boots, she only had a pair of lingerie on. Thongs, perhaps, and a fishnet bra. Tommy could almost see her areolas.
“Come on, dance for me.”
For how long hadn’t he had sex? Almost a year? Why the fuck did he abstain? Was he reliving his prison years? Damned he be.
An explicit rap song played in the speaker, talking about bitches and pussies and dicks and endless fucking. Tommy focused on the stripper as her hands closed around the pole. She began to roll her hips side to side, slowly going down into a wide-open squat before bumping her ass in the air and standing back up again. Her slender legs slithered around the shiny rod, giving him every possible chance of seeing her cunt in each move.
“More,” he commanded.
It seemed like she was enjoying his attention. She came to him, jolting him up a little, pressing him against the couch’s velvety cushion. A devious smile laced her lips as she pushed his legs apart. She stood between his knees and moved her hips in the air while pulling the knots of her bra at the back.
Tommy swallowed. He could still feel the tanginess of the rum in his throat, or was he feeling something else? He stared at the stripper intently as she took her bra off, revealing her luscious breasts. She gyrated her ass, turning in half circle, then arched her hips toward his face. She grabbed his hands and pressed them on her bum.
Warm, soft, and plump. Tommy squeezed them whole as he felt his cock strain beneath his jeans.
The stripper turned around again, her breasts jiggling before his face. So close. Tommy tensed as she straddled his lap. He held her waists tightly. So hot. She rolled against his crotch, bending toward her back like a wave on the sea’s surface, moaning softly against his touch. So ready. A trickle of sweat rolled down her bosom, running down her right breast, above some scars.
He’d seen these before. But, were they there when she came into the room? Did she really have them? And her hair. He thought she was brunette. Why was it… orange?
Tommy squinted. Maybe he wasn’t seeing things right. He was tipsy, yes, but he was horny now. And his cock was craving some action.
Her fingers cradled his chin. “Look at me, Tommy…”
How on earth did she know his name? As confusion struck him, Tommy lifted his eyes, but the moment he saw her face, every fiber within him stiffened.
“Reena?!”
“Why? What’s wrong?” The way she gazed at him caused a surge of heat to spread within his chest. In desperation, Tommy looked down once more at her chest. The scars above her right breast were more prominent. And her nipples, so perky and so pink and so hard as if inviting him to suck them.
He shook his head in utter disbelief. “This can’t be true…”
Tommy didn’t know where he got the strength to let go of the false reality he had immersed himself into. He shoved the stripper off him quite strongly. She screamed and cursed, but he didn’t care. In haste, he threw whatever bills he had in his pocket and stormed out of the private room.
Everything was pulsating around him. The walls, the lights, the men and women he was coming across… they all looked like figments of his imagination. Tommy pressed his hands on the wall for assistance until he made it to the exit door. The bouncer looked at him in astonishment, but Tommy pushed him away. He bolted out of the club, and the very moment the frigid air filled his lungs, an unstoppable bile shot up toward his throat.
At the two-step entrance of Pole Position Club, Tommy retched and drained his guts. It seemed like everything he’d taken in the past hours was purged from his body. Footsteps around him shuffled, customers and whatnots, bouncers and his mobsters, but he didn’t give a shit.
“Boss, you alright?”
Marcus’s voice was rather a relief to hear during his vomiting session. He gripped the henchman’s forearm so firmly that even though Marcus’s limbs were rigid, his fingers still dug into his muscles. Tommy took his time as he puked some more leftovers, and all he could smell and taste was the staleness of his own barf.
“Home,” he said as he wiped the back of his hand on his mouth. “Now.”
Marcus dragged him to the Cheetah, or was it his car? Heck, he couldn’t recall. Everything around him was going in circles, stars dancing above his eyes, his stomach twisting and threatening another spewing. The wind slapped against his face, somehow dampening his giddiness, but it was not enough to make him forget how fucking hurt and confused he was.
The car just stopped, or did it ever move? And whose shoulders was his arm draped on? Tommy swore he could see a blurry glimpse of a man as tall as Marcus approaching him. The ground was shaking, making him unable to get his feet straight up. Things just kept going on from black and white.
Tommy didn’t know how he made it up the flights of stairs, but he did. He didn’t even know how he made it to the estate. He was just in that damn parking lot, being watched by people as he drained his guts out when Marcus and Leigh came. Damn, he wasn’t even sure if Leigh was there–
Ah, yes, Marcus drove him back to Starfish Island. And another yes, Leigh came and they hauled him up the concrete steps. He even heard them fighting. Leigh was suggesting that they left him because he was being too difficult. Marcus smacked his brother’s head and told him he was stupid.
But now, they’d left him alone. Why was that even? Ah, right, Tommy knew why. When they reached the hall, he screamed at them and told them to get out of his way. They tried to yank him to the living room, but he shoved Marcus so forcefully that he tumbled to the floor. Marcus backed off and lifted both his hands while Leigh scratched his head.
“Alright, boss… We’ll just get ya when you fall down the stairs.”
“I told you, we should’ve just left him down there!”
Tommy made it to the top with just a couple of faltering steps, anyway.
Wobbly, he walked into the hallway that led to his bedroom, or was it even his destination? Dark and quiet. He’d never felt so empty before in his life. Why was he even here? What was he doing here? All these thoughts plagued his head until he found himself stumbling at the nursery. The door stood ajar, and from the little gap, Tommy peered, seeing Mrs. Hubbard seated on the chair near the empty crib.
“Mr. Vercetti, are you alright?”
He hiccupped, his shoulders lifting uncontrollably. “Where’s my son?”
“He-he’s… Cleo’s with Reena–”
Tommy gestured a shush by putting a finger on his lips and turned back to the hallway. With struggling steps, he reached the door to her bedroom. He grabbed the doorknob and twisted it, but it was locked. He tried once more but the doorknob just rattled.
In the middle of the night, Tommy pressed his face against the wood. “Reena,” he called out, tapping on the door quite strongly. From the inside, something clattered as if someone hurried to stand, but after a few moments of waiting, nobody answered him. Annoyed, Tommy raised his hand again, curving into a ball, and he slammed his fist on the door. “Reena!”
He didn’t care anymore what she’d think of him. After all, it seemed like she’d made up her mind. There was nothing else he’d lose if he got humiliated again, so he might as well try and fucking embarrass himself even more.
“Reena, open the door!” Tommy could smell his own breath as his face pressed into the wooden slab.
“Boss!” Marcus cried out in a whisper, and behind him, Leigh and Mrs. Hubbard stood, their eyes fixed on him with concern. “Miss Reena might be asleep–”
“Zip your mouth!” He flung an arm toward them. “I don’t care if she’s fucking sleeping–”
The door flew wide open, and Tommy found himself frozen in his position. Before him stood Reena, her face void of expression, but her eyes carried a piercing intensity. Her glare scanned him from head to toe and back up again, causing him to shrink in his spot as if her gaze could see through his very soul.
“It’s already late at night, Tommy, and you’re drunk.”
She just said the truth, but why did it feel so condescending? In an attempt to salvage his pride, Tommy gently pushed her aside and stepped into the room. His legs dithered, weakened by the weight of his seething emotion. Reaching the foot of the bed, his heart sank at the sight before him. Cleo lay sleeping on the mattress beside a large bag and a suitcase. The open closet and drawers were empty.
“What’s this?!” he asked, waving a hand to the bags.
Instead of answering his question, she walked around the bed, past him, grabbed the two bags, and put them on the floor.
“Are you going somewhere?!” he probed once more.
“Do you need anything?” she asked, irritation evident in her voice. “If you don’t, I gotta ask you to leave because I’m packing all our stuff–”
“For what?!”
Reena averted her gaze from him. It was as if she couldn’t look him in the eye. “We should’ve left a long time ago–”
“God-fucking-damnit, Reena!” Tommy’s voice cracked with raw emotion as he lashed out, his frustration and desperation tearing his heart. “I just wanna celebrate Cleo’s birthday… I wanna fucking eat lunch with you, but you… And now, you’re gonna leave?! You want to leave me?!”
She bit her lower lip as she glared at him. “What do you want, Tommy?”
He sighed heavily. Although his mind was a bit foggy, he knew and he understood – he was conscious enough of what he was doing. It was just that he didn’t have the strength before, not when he was sober. He forced a smile as he attempted to reach and touch her, but Reena backed away like he was a plague to avoid.
Keeping the little composure left within him, Tommy felt his eyes burn. “I just wanna feel I have afamily.”
Everything that Tommy knew about having a family was tinged with abandonment and betrayal. With only his father and an estranged, despising mother who vanished without a trace, the notion of family carried a bitter taste. Bound by his loyalty to the Forellis, Tommy gave his heart and soul, only to be betrayed and left in ruins.
When Reena and Cleo came into his life, he thought he finally found the family he was yearning for, but he couldn’t be more wrong.
Her piercing gaze bore into his soul, but it didn’t take long for her appalled demeanor to soften. “I never wanted this in the first place. You know that.”
“You never wanted this?” he cried, a hiccup interrupting his speech. “You said ‘Yes, I do!’”
Reena gawked, her mouth parting in astonishment, and her eyes began to well with tears. “I was just able to say that because I was imagining him.”
Tommy’s breath hitched as a familiar pain spread in his chest. As he looked into Reena’s eyes, it felt like he couldn’t recognize her anymore. Couldn’t she spare him from the hate that made him feel worthless? Reena’s tear-filled gaze left him questioning his place in her life and whether their relationship could ever mend the fractures that seemed to widen between them.
“Don’t you care about me, even just a little?” he asked.
He longed for her to tell him that she didn’t, so he could finally release his grip on the dreams he held close. He yearned for her to scream at him, to berate him for expecting something she couldn’t give. He even wished for her to say that she despised him and wanted him out of their lives. Tommy braced himself, ready for the onslaught he believed he deserved.
Yet, to his surprise and disappointment, her glare softened. It wasn’t the sharp, cutting gaze that tore at his soul anymore. The clenching of teeth and the fierce intensity he anticipated had vanished. Instead, there was a mellowed look in her eyes, and it left him feeling unsettled. He had steeled himself for her anger, but the absence of it only deepened his uncertainty.
“I do, Tommy. I care about you a lot.”
Fuck.
Unable to control the chuckle that slipped from his mouth, Tommy rubbed the back of his wrist against his nose, trying to compose himself. He struggled to stand straight, but his legs trembled beneath him. Something rolled down from his eye, but as he tried to respond, his knees gave out.
“No, you don’t…”
Tommy sank to the ground, his strength failing him completely.
In squabbles he’d been into, Tommy never faltered. If ever he did, he’d always catch himself midway. He always had a way to get back on his feet, to stand on his ground. But before Reena, Tommy couldn’t help but feel so small… so puny that all he could do was scoff at himself as he hit his head with a force.
A garbled scream echoed around him. As he felt the cold ground beneath his face, he sensed hurried thumps on the floor and a warm touch on his face.
“Marcus! Leigh! Help!”
A cry. From the bed. Seemingly startled. Was it Cleo? Tommy forced his eyes open, but all he could feel was the softness beneath his head, something cradling him. His head pulsated, the throbbing pain spreading all around, but it was better than the agony he felt earlier. It was more bearable than his heart being ripped apart.
“Mrs. Hubbard!” A few taps on his face. A sweep on his forehead. A lilac smell. “Tommy, wake up…”
His limbs felt numb, but some strong hands gripped his arms and yanked him up. It felt like he was floating. His body was so light. His head was so airy. He groaned, but he couldn’t bring himself to speak. Somebody moved his legs and placed them up, removing his shoes.
A panicked voice spoke. A gentle melody. A temperate touch on his forehead, wiping his eyes, his nose, and his lips. The touch felt so good, but he couldn’t keep himself awake anymore.
His eyes fluttered, catching a faint glow from a lamp nearby. A soothing, moist cloth was gently placed on his face, chest, and arms, offering comfort and relief. Tender fingers brushed his cheeks and jawline. Though his head ached like hell, he felt ease, something he yearned to experience for so long… from her.
The world around him blurred as Tommy spiraled down into nothingness, and the last thing he saw was her beautiful face looking down at him…
Notes:
Do you think Tommy's reaction is reasonable?
Thank you so much for reading! <3
Chapter 42: Letting Go
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
REENA STOOD AT the door of Tommy’s room. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been there, and as she stepped in, its sight took her by surprise.
His bed was too small, barely enough for a grown man like him, its creaking frame echoing in the room. The pillows were flat and lifeless, hardly providing any support, and the sheets, their fabric felt coarse against her fingertips, a contrast to the comfort they should have provided him.
Empty bottles were strewn about in a corner. Her heart raced, feeling overwhelmed as she stared at the discarded bottles, the faint smell of liquor lingering in the air, realizing that Tommy turned to drinking more often than not.
When Tommy knocked on her door and screamed her name, panic conquered her head. Reena didn’t know what to do, what to say, or what face to show. Guilt consumed her heart, but she was too overwhelmed to answer all his questions that she ended up hurting him even more.
The look in his eyes… she could never forget the pain they showed.
Everything was stuffy and suffocating, akin to her thoughts. It was a trail of disorder, its disarray mirroring the turmoil in her emotions.
Sighing heavily, Reena started doing what she must. She moved with utmost care, cleaning, organizing, and mending as best she could. A part of her wished she’d been more open to embracing the affection Tommy offered so wholeheartedly. Yet, with her reservations holding her back, another part of her hesitated, afraid of the false hope she might give herself.
Don’t you care about me, even just a little?
Tommy’s question was tattooed on her mind. She did care for him, a lot, and probably even more, but she didn’t have the heart to say it, let alone make him feel it. There was no way for her to turn back time – she couldn’t change what she’d done, she couldn’t take back the words she said.
But now? Her wallowing was enough. She wanted to make it up to him.
“Miss, what are you doing here?”
Reena jumped on her spot upon seeing Leigh leaning by the doorway, his arms folded across his chest. She tucked her hair behind her ears and stood, forcing a smile. “I just want to prepare his room. Is he awake?” she probed, but even she could barely hear her own voice.
Leigh stood straight and lowered his arms. It seemed like he was trying to smile, but his mouth just stretched to the sides. “Yeah, I think he is,” he said, tilting his head in the direction of her bedroom. “I heard him in your shower.”
“Oh, I-I should get him some clothes…” She marched toward the closet and retrieved a shirt and a towel. “Can you help me prepare the soup downstairs–”
“If I’m gonna be honest, Miss, you kinda messed up… badly.”
Silence filled the room, and Leigh looked at her with downcast eyes.
Reena knew she did. Her chin dipped into her chest, and she reminisced all the things that happened yesterday. Tommy’s smile was bright and warm, so loving, but she turned him down and ignored everything he said. When he came to her, trying his best to communicate what he’d been yearning to say despite his intoxicated state, she just covered her ears with veils of resentment that he didn’t even cause.
Stupid. I am stupid.
“I don’t expect him to forgive me, Leigh, or listen to me…” she muttered under her breath, but she was sure that Leigh heard her words. “I deserve it.”
“No, you don’t. You’re just confused, that’s all,” Leigh said as he walked in, patting his hands on his jeans. “Don’t worry about Boss. He’ll get over it.” He grabbed the empty bottles, using the gaps between his fingers to hold them all at once. “Just be true to yourself, Miss. Boss would see that... hopefully.”
She bit her lip. She didn’t have it in her. All that made her up was guilt, pain, and sorrow… things she tried to shun and subdue, only for them to emerge and cloud her vision, preventing her from seeing a future ahead, stopping her from trying to pursue things that could’ve freed her from the bounds she made for herself.
But she wanted to try. For Cleo. For Tommy. She wanted to be a friend to him. A companion. A partner. Or maybe… just maybe…
With a firm smile, Leigh left the room, leaving her alone and standing at the side of Tommy’s bed.
Taking a deep, heavy breath, Reena mustered the strength to step out and check on Tommy. Their rooms weren’t that far from each other, so she quickly made her way to her room, accompanied by the sound of her pulse drumming in her veins.
As she entered, she could hear the water running. Relieved to know he was conscious and fine, she approached the bathroom and gently knocked on the door.
“Tommy, are you okay?” she asked, her breath almost hitching as she waited for his answer.
The flowing of the water ceased, but she heard no response.
For a few more seconds, Reena waited, but she realized that perhaps, Tommy wasn’t ready to talk to her yet. She took a step back, putting the towel and shirt on the bed, and pressed her lips tightly, deciding to give him some space.
She retreated to his room, her thoughts consumed by shame and remorse. Carefully, she continued making the bed, fluffing the pillows as best she could, and changing the sheets with fresher ones. She gathered the trash scattered about on the floor and placed it in a plastic bag while she folded the discarded clothes into a laundry basket in the corner.
The heat of the room overwhelmed every sense Reena had as she spread the duvet on Tommy’s bed. She reached for the air conditioner, but as she twisted the knob, she discovered that the vent wasn’t working.
Like her, it needed some repairing.
Outside, footsteps shuffled in what seemed like a rush. Before Reena could react, the door flung open. Tommy hurried in, his face displaying relief, but the respite turned to stiffness when he locked eyes with her.
Despite the growing sense of embarrassment in her stomach, Reena stood her ground and forced a smile, nervously wiping her hands on her shirt. “I-I’m sorry if I touched your room,” she mumbled, gesturing toward the vent. “I noticed your air conditioning isn’t working. I’ll ask Leigh to bring you a stand fan in the meantime.”
Tommy avoided her gaze, clearly disapproving of her being in his bedroom.
Chalking up her hurt, Reena cleared her throat. “Would you like me to bring you something to drink–”
“No, I’m fine.” He walked past her, tossing the wet towel to the couch at the foot of the bed. “You can leave now.”
“I-I made you a soup. Are you sure you don’t want me to get you anything?”
“Yeah, I’m very sure,” he retorted with a stern voice. He opened a drawer and took a cigarette, placing it in his mouth. “Just leave me alone.”
Reena’s gaze shifted downward. “Tommy, about yesterday–”
“Just go,” he said, slamming the drawer shut.
To say his rejection hurt was an understatement. She knew that if she attempted to speak again, her voice would undoubtedly crack with emotion. Part of her desperately hoped that he’d give her a chance to explain, but she couldn’t blame him for not doing so. She’d often pushed him away and disregarded his feelings before. Who was she to harbor bitterness when she was the one at fault?
“Okay…” she murmured in surrender. “If you need anything, I’ll be downstairs.”
It took all her strength to step out of his room. Reena found herself treading on the corridor, swirling in her miserable thoughts until she heard a loud thud from his bedroom. Briefly, she looked over her shoulder, learning that Tommy had closed his door on her, just like she did every time to him.
Her eyes stung, but she couldn’t cry. She had no right to cry.
As her legs grew weaker with every step, Reena descended the stairs and searched for Leigh. Near the living room, the sound of men talking caught her ears. Reena cautiously approached, positioning herself behind the doorway to eavesdrop and concentrate on the conversation.
“He threw everything away,” a hollow voice spoke. “What a waste…”
“Shut your dirty mouth if you don’t want Boss to hear ya!”
“Why? It was true! He tossed the plates and chairs around! He smashed the cake on the fuckin’ ground!”
“Boss hadn’t been like that for a long time,” a rather familiar voice talked. “Just stay out of his business.”
Reena didn’t intend to come out of the hiding had she not pushed the door slightly, causing it to creak. Marcus, Leigh, Mike, Ross, and a few others who were gathered at the bar stopped talking and turned toward the doorway, their expressions shifting to one of shock as they saw her standing there.
She knew why, and they didn’t have to explain because, regardless of what happened, it was her fault. All her fault. And she didn’t hate Tommy for being too cold and distant from her. Heck, she couldn’t even feel bad when he told her to leave his room.
Mike, Ross, and the others cleared their throats, giving her a forced and awkward smile before they headed out of the living room. Meanwhile, Marcus and Leigh remained seated on their stools, each holding their own bottle of beer.
“Are you alright, Miss Reena?” Marcus asked, looking at her with concern in his eyes.
If she’d be honest, no, she wasn’t. Her fists curled, but Reena bit her tongue, halting herself from blurting out what she truly felt. Nodding, she huffed a slight breath and pointed her thumb backward. “The vent in Tommy’s room… It’s broken. Can you bring him a stand fan?”
Marcus’s mouth slightly parted, then he cast Leigh a glance as if telling him to do it. Leigh seemed to understand the message, put the bottle down, and stood from his seat.
“We’ll take care of it, Miss Reena,” Leigh said, and then they both marched out of the living room.
“Can you make sure he’s comfortable?” she followed up.
Leigh’s gaze trained on her, a mixture of assurance and bother. “We’ll do, miss.”
Left alone, Reena felt the weight of the world pressing down on her shoulders. She could no longer suppress the flood of emotions welling up inside her. She leaned against the wall for support, her body feeling heavy as if the burden of her actions was physically pushing her down. Tears stung at the corners of her eyes, but she clenched her fists tightly, refusing to let them fall. She couldn’t allow herself to break down now, not when there was so much that she needed to make up for.
Reena had been so focused on her own uncertainty that she’d failed to consider Tommy. As she took deep breaths, trying to steady herself, the sound of thumping footsteps echoed in her ears. From the doorway, Reena peered, and she saw Tommy darting out of the foyer with Marcus following close behind.
Feeling her heart skip a beat, Reena stepped out of the living room and called out his name, but Tommy didn’t stop in his tracks. She decided to follow them, but as soon as she made it to the porch, Tommy was already getting in the passenger seat of his Cheetah. She tried to run after them, but before Reena could even take the third step down, the engine roared to life.
Tommy left without speaking to her at all. She watched his car bolt out of the estate, disappearing into the far road ahead. Realizing that it was too late for her to follow, Reena bowed her head down, turned around, and walked back to the main hall.
The tables had turned, and she finally understood what he’d been going through all along. The realization hit her like a wave, and she clenched her teeth to suppress a sob. She was hurt, just as she had caused him pain before. A cruel twist of faith.
She couldn’t hold the tears any longer. A few drops escaped, trailing down her cheeks as she finally allowed herself to sob. Aimlessly, she wandered, until she spotted Leigh climbing down the stairs. Quickly, Reena wiped away the tears that streamed down her cheeks, hiding her sadness.
“Miss, did something happen?” Leigh asked, his eyes trained on her.
“No, no, it’s nothing… Nothing happened…” she lied. “Where’s Tommy going?”
“He’s got some business transaction in the North,” Leigh answered, curiosity hinting in his voice. “Do you need anything from him? He might not come back soon.”
“Tommy isn’t coming home?” she asked. “How long is he staying there?”
Leigh shrugged his shoulders. “A week, I guess…”
She felt herself shudder, but she tried to conceal her trembling with a vigorous nod. “Okay, thank you, Leigh,” she mumbled, and before he could even answer, she rushed up the stairs, aiming for the nursery, without looking back down.
The room felt quiet as she entered, the soft rays of the setting sun filtering through the curtains, casting a warm glow on everything around her. Mrs. Hubbard was on the couch, crocheting a blanket, while Cleo lay peacefully in the crib, sleeping soundly, oblivious to the turmoil she was going through.
“Reena my dear, do you need anything?” Mrs. Hubbard asked.
Shaking her head, Reena forced a smile. “Nothing. Is it okay if you leave me with him for a while?”
Mrs. Hubbard looked up from her crocheting, her eyes gentle and understanding. “Of course,” she replied softly. “Take all the time you need. I’ll be just in the living room if you need anything at all.” With a warm smile, she gave Reena a reassuring nod before quietly leaving the nursery.
Reena closed the door and looked at her son. Her gaze softened as she watched the rise and fall of his tiny chest, a reminder of the precious life she and Claude had created.
She approached the crib, careful not to disturb him. As she leaned over, a sudden wave of exhaustion washed over her, making her whimper. Reena cupped her hand over her mouth, struggling to stop herself from bursting. Yet, her attempts to keep the noise from waking up her son failed. Cleo began to fuss, tossing and turning like he was restless. Reena cradled her baby, finding comfort in his warmth as she tried to ease the harrowing feeling in her gut.
Shame and regret came upon her like a sweeping tide. Shame, because Tommy had given her and Cleo everything; he’d remained true to his promise to protect them and give them a comfortable life, but she’d not reciprocated any of it. Guilt, on the other hand, because she realized how harsh she’d been to Tommy and insensitive toward his feelings. He had not demanded anything from her, kept on giving her space, and always faced her with a smile, only for her to scowl, deny, and reject him all the time.
How could she have done this to the very person who showed her and her son kindness? Gave them protection? Offered her affection?
She looked to her side, glancing at Cleo, his tiny features so full of innocence. She touched his face and stroked his cheeks. He was her most precious gift, even more valuable than her own life. His existence was her very reason for surviving, and she wanted to give him a happy, normal life. With Cleo beside her, she brushed off every pain, sorrow, and longing. Her whole world was just revolving in her little bundle of joy.
Yet, every time she looked at him, she’d see his father… his father whose memories had to be forgotten.
It had been a long time, long enough for her to lose all hope for Claude to come back.
Waiting made no sense at all.
Clutching Cleo close to her body, Reena slowly made her way out of the nursery, dragging herself on the hallway that seemed to stretch with each step. When she finally made it to her bedroom, the air seemed to constrict her throat, making it hard to breathe. Her eyes fell on the empty bed, and it seemed to echo the void she felt inside.
Reena laid Cleo on the mattress, his little form sinking into the soft sheets. She caressed his tiny cheek, a bittersweet smile crossing her lips as she whispered words of love and apology.
The basin with water still sat there on the bedside table, a reminder of Tommy’s ordeal last night. But instead of attending to it, she found herself drawn to the suitcase on the floor that contained all the things she packed.
Beneath the pile of clothes was the jacket… the jacket that she always hugged to her chest as she fell asleep. The worn-out leather was dry, cracked, and faded; creases of long-overdue folds told stories of countless memories. Desperately, she pressed it close to her face, yearning to catch even the faintest traces of Claude’s scent as tears filled her vision.
Hope never left her, but now, it felt like an unattainable dream.
Yielding in the loneliness of his absence, Reena regretted every minute of letting him go that fateful night when they plunged into the water. Clasping the jacket into her bosom, she wept, hugging it as if it were him.
“Why is it so hard to let you go?”
As Reena fondly recalled the fading warmth of his embrace, her fingers stumbled upon something in the jacket’s pouch. Delicately reaching inside, she discovered the necklace Claude had gifted her. Though no longer as gleaming as it once was, the jewelry still exuded the intended splendor and held a timeless charm it was meant to give her.
Reena clutched the broken ends of the necklace and attempted to wrap it around her neck, struggling to fasten the locks, but her efforts were in vain. Frustration overwhelmed her, and she collapsed onto the bed, her tears flowing relentlessly over the chance that had been taken away from her… from them.
“I’m sorry…” she whispered as if she was speaking directly to him, holding the necklace and the jacket tightly in her hands. “I’m really sorry…”
Tears soaked the sheets of her bed as the grief of losing the love of her life consumed her. She didn’t realize how long she’d been crying until she heard her son.
Reena lifted her gaze, finding Cleo’s innocent eyes looking back at her. He was already sitting on the bed with his back against the pillow. His small hand reached out to touch her face as if trying to comfort her and reassure her that everything would be alright.
Her heart skipped a beat as his little fingers traced her face. Sitting upright, Reena gently held Cleo by the crook of his shoulders and hugged him tightly. Pressing her face into his neck, she clung to her son as if he were her lifeline. Cleo remained calm and still, resting his face on her shoulder as if understanding her need for comfort and giving her the solace she desperately craved.
Time stood still. As they held to each other, Reena’s grip gradually loosened, and she felt Cleo’s little body relax against her. She noticed his gentle breathing, realizing that he’d fallen asleep in her arms. A soft smile graced her lips as she laid her son on the bed, tucking him in with tenderness and protection.
A flicker of determination ignited within her, a promise to better herself for her little boy. With trembling hands, she brushed her disheveled hair back and wiped away the tears with a resolute gesture, then grabbed the jacket and the necklace.
Accepting the painful reality, she knew it was time to take a step forward. Summoning every ounce of strength, Reena carefully tucked away Claude’s memories in the bottom drawer, hidden beneath the clothes she had decided to part with…
Notes:
It's a lot of drama... just like my life lol.
How are you? I hope you're not having a bad time. If you are, I pray you make it through.
Thank you so much for reading! <3
Chapter 43: Atonement
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
THE BELL RANG. The steel door opened, and from it emerged a man. He walked to the other side of the table and sat before a skinny, young lad who seemed scared to see him. The man had a bald head, and streaks of his body tattoo peered from the collars of his shirt. The way he dragged the chair was forceful that it screeched against the floor like a banshee.
Multiple seats away from him, Tommy saw the young man tense in his seat.
“What the fuck are you lookin’ at?” the man on the other side asked, startling Tommy in his seat. Perhaps, if no barrier separated them, the man would’ve already attacked him. In times like this, Tommy wouldn’t back down, but he didn’t have the strength for power play, so he tugged his gaze back at the steel door.
Inside the cool confines of the room, the air conditioner buzzed softly, providing some relief from the sweltering heat outside. Tommy’s attention was drawn to the conversation. The young man sat there, engaging in a tense exchange with his father, stoic and unmoving. The young man’s words were hushed and barely audible to Tommy, but the trembling of his voice spoke of his turmoil.
The man on the other side of the glass was nearly shouting, his voice thunderous and menacing. A custodian entered the room, dragging a mop and a yellow bucket on wheels behind him. The potent scent of bleach and soap from the cleaning solution filled the air, making it pungent and overpowering. Even the man on the other side of the fiberglass couldn’t escape the strong smell as he scratched his nose and let out an annoyed harrumph, tapping his large palm on the counter rather loudly.
“Hey, that fuckin’ stinks! Come back later and get the hell outta here, will ya?”
The custodian, seemingly unperturbed, went about his duties. He kept on mopping the floor, in the corners, in the open space, and near the seats, which seemed to irritate the man even more.
“Dad, stop–”
The man slammed his hands against the fiberglass, causing the whole barrier to shake violently. The custodian jumped back in surprise, quickly stepping away from the agitated scene. A couple of guards rushed into the room, holding thick, steel handcuffs with chains at the ready. They approached the man cautiously, their expressions stern and determined, ready to restrain him if necessary.
“That’s enough!”
An officer swiftly grabbed the man’s hands, twisting them behind his back with a firm grip. Though his face displayed signs of pain, the man’s unyielding glare remained unchanged.
“This is why you gotta man up,” he grumbled at his son. “One day, you gotta help daddy out!”
Tommy felt like he was witnessing a scene from an action movie. The man effortlessly pushed the officers aside, sending them tumbling. When one of the officers swung a club at him, the man’s powerful legs kicked the weapon out of his grasp. Swiftly, the man bent backward and then snapped his head forward, striking the officer in the nose. Blood splattered, and the air was filled with a metallic stench that replaced the earlier smell of bleach as the radio crackled faintly in the background.
“Dad, stop it!” the young man screamed as he stood. “Please, don’t hurt him!”
More officers came into the room and subdued the man. One officer forcefully pushed the man’s head onto the hard counter, while the others began to beat his back. In the chaos, another officer secured handcuffs and chains around him.
It was so chaotic that Tommy had almost forgotten his purpose there.
They struggled to drag the man out of the area, but he resisted fiercely. As they pulled him away, Tommy witnessed him spitting at one of the officers. The officer retaliated by striking him with a club on his head, rendering him weak. The young man was in tears, almost shrieking in distress, but the officers seemed to pay little attention to him.
“Y’all gonna die rottin’ or toastin’ here!” one of the officers hollered.
Once they were gone, Tommy leaned back in his chair. The young man remained standing, his whole body shaking. Tommy’s mind wandered to the future, imagining what it would’ve been like if they were in the young man’s position. Would Cleo grow up just like him, scared shitless of someone who was supposed to protect him? Would he end up coming back here often, trembling and crying as he faced his father?
“Visitation’s over, boy,” an officer said. “Your mom’s waiting outside.”
Despite the young man’s reluctance to leave, he eventually gathered his belongings from the counter, turned around, and exited the door. As Tommy looked on, he caught a glimpse of a middle-aged woman who appeared distraught upon seeing the young man. She welcomed him into her arms and kissed his cheek, seemingly comforting him. However, the door soon closed, leaving the officer and Tommy alone in the area.
“Hey. Seems like your friend didn’t wanna see you either,” the officer muttered while tucking his polo shirt in his waistband, causing his belly to protrude even more. “You should leave, time’s up.”
He really kept his word. Tommy scoffed in disbelief. He wanted to stay until he was forced to face him, but he wasn’t taking the chance to be yanked out of the room just like what the officers did to the man earlier. As disappointment wrapped around his head, Tommy shook his head and stood, resolving to just go.
“Can I leave a letter instead?” he asked, facing the officer once more.
“Yeah, sure, but we gotta check it first.”
“I’m leaving him a number.”
“Heh,” the officer huffed deridingly. “As if he’d call.”
Tommy didn’t care. He followed the officer out of the visitor’s area until they reached a desk near a station. He grabbed a scratch paper from a pile of discarded documents on the side and a pen, wrote down his message, folded it, and gave it to the officer.
“You gotta sign here,” he said. “For the record.”
He followed everything aimlessly. He was dismayed to be refused, but there was no point in wallowing. All he wanted to do was to give him the chance to communicate with her again, even if it meant his own loss. And what was there to lose anyway? She didn’t care about him, for fuck’s sake. Tommy wrote his name in thick strokes of black ink, almost cursive, on the thin page of the log book when the officer peered beside him.
“Tommy Vercetti?” the officer asked, surprised. “You’re Tommy Vercetti?”
“Do you have a problem with my name?”
“I’ve heard of you before.” The officer chuckled, his tone menacing. “You’re the murderer in Harwood, right?”
They hadn’t forgotten. Tommy hadn’t forgotten either.
“You still killin’ some goons? Heard you took out all of them at once,” the officer probed, seemingly trying to provoke him. “Ain’t fifteen years too short? You’re supposed to be on death row, right? Like your friend?”
Tommy couldn’t stop himself from glowering at the officer. At first, the officer seemed unfazed, but Tommy maintained his stare without breaking, even for a second. The pulses in his temples and neck throbbed faster than the seconds on a clock, racing as if to beat time itself. His hands clenched into fists, and the officer’s demeanor began to wane as fear crawled into his face.
Putting the pen down, Tommy locked his gaze on the officer. He wanted him to see that he was barking at the wrong tree. A very, wrong tree.
“Okay man, you’re cool,” the officer said. “You’re good to go…”
He continued to glare at the officer, and a snicker formed in his mouth. He put a hand on the officer’s shoulder, gripping firmly and shaking him. “That’s what I’m talking about,” he said, feeling the officer strain in his grasp. “You make sure my friend gets my letter, understand?”
“Y-Yeah, alright…”
“And you ain’t reading it…”
“Of course.” The officer’s head shivered with each nod. “I-I respect privacy.”
“See you soon, amigo.” Tommy removed his hand from the officer’s shoulder and briefly patted his cheek. “I won’t forget your fucking face.”
He marched out of the hallway, his snicker withering away. As the gates swung open, Tommy left the penitentiary without looking back. The sun’s rays bathed his face, momentarily blinding him, a reminder of what he felt when he was released from prison many years ago.
With each step he took, thoughts of Reena flooded his mind. He wanted to seek a way to end his miserable and hopeless affection, to find closure in the pain he planted in himself. But as he walked toward his car, he couldn’t help but wonder if he was making the right decision. He felt lost, unsure of where to go or what to do next.
As the wind brushed against his cheeks, he glanced at the streets ahead, a multitude of possibilities stretching out before him. Part of him wanted to run back, to take the letter and continue trying hard for Reena. But another part of him knew it was time to let go, to find a new path that didn’t revolve around her.
He jumped into his car, determined to speak to the only person he knew could help him. As he sped away, he looked out of the window, watching the penitentiary shrink in the distance.
It didn’t take him long to reach the casino.
The faint fumes rising from the incense at the altar in the corner of the room carried a certain scent that was neither fragrant nor acrid, but evocative. Music played softly from a distant speaker, a tune made out of gentle strokes on strings and beats on gongs. The bamboo walls and decors surrounded the chamber, lining up against the walls, and on the floor was an indoor stream where koi fish swam.
Tommy sat quietly on the couch. It was relaxing, to say the least, save for the infrequent looks he’d receive from the two Yakuzas standing in the doorway. One was tall and bald, eyes a bit larger than the Japanese he’d seen on his way to the office. He was wearing a full, navy-blue suit, but near his neck could be seen a slithering tattoo that resembled the tails of a snake. The other man was shorter, but his shoulders were broad, his limbs muscular, and his hair was spiky. He didn’t have any tattoos, but one of his ears was riddled with shiny, silver piercings.
A Japanese stopped at the opened doorway and stooped down, bowing snappily at him. Tommy lifted his head, seeing the Yakuza slowly standing back up. He got up and tugged the hems of his shirt. As his eyes trained on the doorway, Asuka Kasen appeared dashingly, a firm yet furtive smile lacing her lips.
“Miss Kasen,” he greeted, then he slowly bowed down one more time, making sure to keep his arms on the side.
“Take a seat,” she said, gesturing toward the round couch.
Asuka sat exactly across from him, crossing her legs gracefully. A woman in a kimono, with her face painted white and red on the cheeks, approached them carrying a lacquered tray. She laid it on the table and carefully took out each teacup and the kettle, placing them in front of Asuka and then in front of him. With utmost care, the woman held the kettle and poured the steaming tea slowly into their cups, making sure not to spill a drop.
“How’s your stay in Liberty City so far, Mr. Vercetti?” Asuka asked.
“Tommy. Call me Tommy.”
“Asuka it is, then.” Beaming, she tugged her sleeves before she reached for the cup in front of her. “So, my question?”
He nodded firmly. “It’s fine and uneventful. Thank you.”
“And how’s your visit to the Penitentiary?”
“The usual. He didn’t even see me.”
“I heard you’re visiting him every other month.”
“I do. But I’m planning to stop.”
There was no one he could seek help from. When he left the estate, he contemplated so hard on what to do. He wanted to make things right, and the only way he saw was to tell Reena the truth, or at least, let the truth come to her.
She was miserable, and he was desperate. The agony was going on too much that he couldn’t handle it anymore. In business deals that went wrong – getting wounded and beaten up and facing death – Tommy always found a way to recover. He’d recuperate, and just after a day or two, he was ready and back up again.
Pain was an old friend to him, but this kind of pain was new. It gutted him deeply, made his chest shrink, and caused his head to throb. This kind of pain would bring a burning sensation into his eyes, and it was something he couldn’t heal from just so easily.
“Let’s get on with this, Tommy,” Asuka mumbled, taking a sip from her cup. She gently set the fragile porcelain on the table that divided them. “Do you really want to tell her everything?”
He found himself grinning. “Right,” he replied. Tommy grabbed the full cup before him and drained it in an instant as if it were a shot glass. His throat craved for the pungent streak that the tea had rather caressed. “Reena isn’t getting any better. She needed to know what happened to him.”
“How are you gonna tell her?”
“I’m thinking of taking her there.”
“And if he didn’t wanna see her?”
“The news and the documents would suffice.”
Asuka pursed her lips as she nodded. “Very well, what shall we tell her if she asks why we hid it?”
“We gotta tell her the truth.” Tommy looked at her sternly. “That it was his choice, and we just complied.”
“Among all of us, it was you who witnessed how she reacted to everything. Do you think she’ll be able to handle it?”
He leaned forward, placed his elbows on his knees, and clasped his hands together. “I don’t know, but I can’t take it anymore.”
“Why did you pretend to marry her anyway?”
It was a question he didn’t expect. He lifted his gaze to the waka-gashira, seeing the curiosity in her eyes. Tommy felt his heart skip a beat, recalling their reason for faking the marriage. On that day, he found himself basking in her magnificence as she slowly walked down the aisle, but it was only now that he realized how wretched she looked instead.
No smile on her lips. No glimmer in her eyes. Nothing but reluctance and grief.
“I know we got off the wrong foot, but I’m here to make amends. I don’t wanna hurt her anymore more than I’m doing right now.”
Asuka sighed heavily as if she understood his answer. She grabbed the teapot and motioned for his cup. Tommy lifted it, and Asuka filled his cup with steaming tea. The stream of water trickled gently on the surface, filling in the void that surrounded them. Afterward, she refilled hers too, and in silence, they both drank.
“In three days, I’m heading back to Vice City,” he said, putting his cup back down on the table. “I gave him a number to call. Once he leaves a message for her, I’ll give her the phone.”
“I support your decision, and I know you’re doing everything for her and Cleo’s peace,” Asuka answered, her eyes reflecting sincerity. “She deserves to know the truth, and you deserve to be out of this ruse.”
“Thank you. I’ll let you know when.” Tommy stood from his seat and bowed in front of Asuka. “And just like before, my offer still stands. Vice Point’s open for your casino.”
Asuka’s eyes narrowed even more. “Is it your apology for threatening me last time?”
Ah, yes, their first encounter. Tommy chuckled nervously. “It is. And I’m sorry for how I reacted that day.”
Asuka stood as well and stuck out her hand, which Tommy accepted. “I appreciate it.”
Tommy smiled, dipped his chin, then walked past Asuka Kasen. Deep inside, he was hurting, but he knew it was the right thing to do – the ultimate sacrifice. What he felt for Reena was something beyond what he could comprehend, and as much as he wanted to keep things the way they were, Tommy couldn’t stand seeing her suffering.
She needed to move on, and so did he.
“I know you told me the marriage was fake. But Tommy, I know you love her.”
He stopped before the door, freezing between the two Yakuzas. Reluctantly, he looked over his shoulder. Asuka sat back down on the couch, her back facing him.
“You wouldn’t be doing all these things if you didn’t love her.” She poured herself a drink once more. “And if ever you decide to back down from your choice, rest assured I understand.” She put the teapot down. “I care for Reena as much as Maria and 8-Ball do, but like you, I’m after what’s best for her and Cleo.”
She didn’t look back at him anymore. He stood there for a while, waiting, but the waka-gashira just perched in silence.
“Tommy, is that you?”
His attention was drawn to the voice, seeing Maria Latore standing in the hall, wearing an oversized fur coat on her shoulders. Her heels clanked on the tiles as she hurried toward him, enveloping him with such a welcoming embrace that he didn’t have the energy to return.
“Oh my, I haven’t seen you in forever!” she exclaimed, peering behind him. “Is Reena with you?”
He forced himself to respond with a smile, but Tommy knew his mouth just stretched side to side. “No, she’s not,” he replied, his head shaking. “But I’ll let her know you’re looking for her.”
Maria looked disappointed as her lips pouted, but her beam resumed almost immediately. “No worries, Tommy. I’ll just send her a message and tell her I saw you here–”
“Please, don’t,” he retorted, watching a rather surprised expression on Maria’s face unfold. “She doesn’t know I’m here.”
A playful smile laced her lips, her eyes glinting in curiosity. “Oh, a secret! I love secrets!” She jumped toward him, getting even closer. “Reena once shared a secret with me about you before!”
Asuka stepped out of the room, finding him and Maria in the hall. Her smile at him was gentle, but he was sure he could see her roll her eyes and shake her head as she looked at Maria. Tommy leaned closer, allowing Maria to reach his ear for whatever she intended to whisper.
“I asked her what she loved most about you, and she told me,” Maria whispered, her voice so hushed that he barely heard her, “that you’re a great father to Cleo and a wonderful husband to her.”
Maria pinched his arm before walking away from him toward Asuka. Asuka cast him an apologetic gaze, then she and Maria disappeared into the office.
Tommy left without saying another word, taking Maria’s words with a grain of salt. He passed by the silent corridors, then the dense main halls as patrons and customers of the casino arrived. It was far from the peace in Asuka’s place upstairs, tantamount to the turmoil in his heart.
The stiff air of Liberty City filled his lungs as he made it out of the building. Distant lights flickered on the horizon and skyscrapers loomed over the district like beacons to lost wanderers. Sighing a heavy breath, Tommy closed his eyes as he realized one thing.
Asuka was right.
Notes:
Thank you so much for reading! <3
Chapter 44: Ways of the Heart
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
TOMMY COULDN’T SHAKE the nervousness that tightened his chest. The trip from Liberty City had been long, and during those hours, memories of his choices had haunted him like persistent ghosts. He wondered if returning to Vice City after a week was right, knowing that seeing Reena again might reignite the feelings – and hopes – he had buried deep within.
Marcus pulled over at the bottom of the concrete steps, and Tommy took a deep breath before stepping out onto the familiar grounds of the estate. The mansion loomed before him, its imposing facade reflecting the elephant in the room he refused to acknowledge for a long time.
But now, he was ready.
As he made his way to the entrance, Tommy found himself gravitating toward the back of the estate. With slow, careful steps, he sauntered on the terrace, tugging his gaze around the beauty of his property marred by his expectations. The balloons his mobsters attached to the hedge maze no longer danced in the air. The sacs hung low, like teardrops affixed to the plants.
He’d move to the villa tomorrow, the villa that was supposed to be his gift to Reena. For a month, he’d be gone, but he thought, what if he’d be gone forever? Never had he imagined asking Reena to leave the estate. He’d rather give it up to her if that would give her peace. But her peace was not having the estate to herself – her peace was having him away from her as far as possible.
Tommy could do that. After all, she never wanted any of this. Every single word she said that night, he evoked, was forever carved into his already-wounded soul.
The waves splashed gently in the docks of the Waterview, joining the faint whistle of the briny, cold wind. Memories of their time together flooded back. The laughter they had shared through his stories, the promises, the tender moments – every emotion felt raw as he clenched the divorce papers in his hand.
Unlike the waters, the sky didn’t seem clear. Dense clouds covered the constellations, threatening at least light pouring. Despite the chill, Tommy stood quietly and looked beyond and above, searching for something to see in the dark skyline.
It was already past eleven, and the day had left Tommy physically exhausted, but his doubts and worries kept him from finding solace in rest. From the patio where he stood, he gazed at the illuminated greenhouse shed near the labyrinth. The soft, pale lights flickered inside, casting a warm and ethereal glow on the vibrant green leaves and colorful flowers, a testament to the care they received.
Taking a deep breath, Tommy tore his eyes away from the shed and turned his gaze upward to Reena’s window. The lights were off. She must be asleep, he thought. It was the perfect time to enter the estate and retrieve his belongings without running into her. But as the thought of seeing her again crossed his mind, a mixture of emotions swirled within him. He wasn’t sure how he’d react if they crossed paths, uncertain of how their encounter would unfold. The fear of facing the past and the possibility of stirring up old wounds kept him hesitant and on edge.
With each beat of his heart, the determination to finally let go of the shitty hope surged through his veins. The pain of holding onto something that seemed so far-fetched and unattainable had become unbearable. He knew it was time to release the grip he had on a future that was never meant to be, no matter how much he yearned for it. It was a bitter realization, but one that he needed to accept to find peace within himself.
Marcus was stationed in the gates tonight. Later, he could ask for his help to carry his luggage and load them into his car. For now, he could grab something to eat before he started dragging himself up to his bedroom.
He passed by a mobster in the hallway who gave him a light greeting and a firm nod. Tommy jerked up his chin in return, but he couldn’t force a smile. As much as possible, he stepped on the floors quietly, avoiding the soles of his shoes to clatter against the tiles. He made his way to the right wing of the mansion and entered the hallway that led to the kitchen.
His throat felt parched. Tommy didn’t realize how much time had passed since he drank water. Breathing heavily, he stepped into the slightly dim kitchen. The lamppost outside cast light through the window, but the glow illuminated only the sink and half of the island. Tommy ran a hand on the wall, clicking the switch as soon as he touched it. The huge chandelier flickered several times before it fully flooded the room with brightness.
A ripple of fuss dazed him like a lightning bolt as he found Reena. Her head was nestled in the space between her folded arms on the table, but upon the dazzle of light, she began to stir and wake up. Her sore eyes squinted as they scanned around, and upon meeting his, she gawked. Reena abruptly rose from her seat, rubbing her tired eyes and adjusting her disheveled hair that fell over her forehead.
“You… You’re back,” she said, her voice filled with surprise and delight. Smiling awkwardly, she brushed her fingers through her hair, a subtle attempt to tame the wild strands that partially concealed her eyes. “Have you eaten?”
She felt and looked so different. Whenever Tommy would see her, there was always an invisible barrier that she’d put up, preventing him from ever getting close. The tone of her voice always sounded cold and banal, and the way she talked to him was palpably borne out of forced interaction. Never did she gaze at him for so long nor ask him how he was, but now, she was even inquiring if he had dinner or not.
He wanted to answer but he couldn’t, and all Tommy could do was shake his head.
Her lips muttered a silent “okay” and she walked toward the stove. “I prepared you something to eat. I’ll reheat it… It’ll take just a few minutes…”
Swallowing the lump down his dry throat, Tommy pushed himself to speak. “I-I’m not gonna eat, I’m just grabbing something to drink–”
“I got you,” she said, grabbing a glass from the drawer. It clanked against the other utensils as she drew it out of the drainers. She scooted to the fridge and opened it, rummaging inside for anything to get for him. “Water? Juice?”
Tommy kneaded his nape, feeling the tension in his neck and shoulders from the long trip and the weight of the situation he now faced. He hadn’t even had a moment to recover from the jetlag, and now, he found himself confronted with a circumstance he badly wanted to avoid. Every step he took felt heavy and sluggish as he watched her pour water into the glass she held, the sound of the liquid sloshing echoing in the air. He wished he could find the right words to say, to express the jumble of emotions within him, but for now, he remained silent, unsure of where to begin.
“Here… I-I’ll just get your food.”
She hurriedly placed the pitcher and the glass before him and rushed back to the stove to turn the fire off. Grabbing a plate, she scooped rice from a pot, and on top of it, she spread the dish. Swiftly, she took a fork and scooted back toward the table, placing the plate and the utensil beside each other.
“I hope you like it. Stir fry chicken,” she said with a gentle smile.
He still didn’t have the strength to look at her, the memory of her glare haunting his thoughts. Tommy doubted everything, believing that any positive interactions now were nothing more than an implausible façade. Shaking his head, he deliberately averted his eyes even farther from her, not wanting to risk catching even a slight glimpse of her face. Instead, he fixed his gaze on the window, allowing the outside world to occupy his mind as he struggled to confront the unrest in his heart.
“Sorry, but I’m not in the mood to eat anything.” His stomach grumbled silently as he lied.
“Oh, I’ll just clean up for you. I thought you were thirsty?”
All the things he’d hoped for them vanished, and fuck, he didn’t want to give himself futile optimism. She was making it harder.
“Not anymore.”
Silence engulfed the night. It was getting more difficult to keep his head turned away. He wanted her to get out of the kitchen and pick up the clues he was unwillingly dropping, but she just stood there, by the table, and even though he wasn’t facing her, Tommy knew she was staring at him.
Reena cleared her throat. “Leigh told me you were leaving. May I know why?”
“It’s none of your business.”
The aromatic blend of garlic and chicken that made his appetite growl soon paled in the thick air, making his stomach churn. Tommy couldn’t believe he was saying all these things to the very person he’d been dying to talk to and be with.
He heard a bitter chuckle. “I understand. I’m going upstairs.”
Her faint steps echoed, torturing Tommy’s ears. He fought so hard not to react in a way he’d regret. His hands clenched, further crumpling the document, and his teeth bared beneath his mouth, eyes tightly shutting. In his mind, he counted every step she took and every inch she passed until a whiff of air stroked by his side, leaving him a trail scent of faint lilacs.
In a swift motion, Tommy looked over his shoulder. “Reena, I–”
“Listen,” she interrupted, stopping at the doorway. She looked so rigid and worried. “If there’s anyone who should leave, it’s me and Cleo. Not you.”
Tommy stilled and watched her teeth as they sank into her lower lips.
“I know I hurt you… I said a lot of things I shouldn’t have. I’m selfish and ungrateful. And I realized my mistakes. I wanna make it up to you…”
He wanted to respond, but nothing came out of his mouth even though his lips had parted. Empty, voiceless gasps slipped from his cusps, giving her nothing for an answer.
“But I deserve this,” she said, her head bobbing up and down. “You have all the right to be mad at me because… because I failed to keep my promise to you.”
His hands were unclenched, letting go of the document as it dropped to the floor. He felt his shoulders sink. His chest burned as he listened to every word she said.
“I mean it when I said I care for you… a lot. More than I could ever show.”
Reena turned around. Her shoulders rose as she sighed a heavy breath, and then she walked out of the kitchen, disappearing in his sight.
His throat had never gone this dry. His feet never felt so tight. His toes curled in his shoes, an attempt to subdue the urge to take a step and follow her.
It was futile, to say the least.
To find himself once more in the seemingly stretching hallway made him relive the intoxicated night. Banging on her door. Screaming her name. Confessing his feelings. Then, getting knocked out. It was infuriating then, but now, he realized it was rather embarrassing.
As he passed by the nursery, Tommy noticed that while Cleo slept in the crib, Mrs. Hubbard wasn’t around. The old woman never left the boy’s side unless Reena was with him, but now, she was unexpectedly somewhere else.
A faint sound of conversation and a whimper were coming from the other room.
He didn’t know what he was doing either. His mind was already made up; he was leaving the estate and moving out. With his bags already packed, Marcus and Leigh would begin transferring his things from the office and his bedroom to his new home tomorrow. In his new place, away from the very person who was causing him pain, Tommy would be starting over. There was no stopping him at all… or was there?
The door to Reena’s room stood ajar. Painstakingly, he stood before it, lifting his fist to knock on the door. However, before his knuckles could even touch the surface, the door suddenly flung open, and before him, Mrs. Hubbard stood shocked, looking at him with widely gaping eyes and mouth.
“Mr. Vercetti!” she yelped almost instantly.
On the bed sat Reena, her back facing the door. She looked over her shoulder in haste, and upon seeing him, she gasped in shock and turned around immediately. She stood from the mattress and brushed her hands on her face, sniffed, and spun on her heels. A big smile laced her lips, yes, but Tommy was sure she wasn’t happy.
Her nose and cheeks were red, and her eyes were damp and swollen.
“Hey,” she greeted, but her voice trembled at the very word. “I-I thought you already left…”
Tommy stood still and glared at her with his mouth slightly agape. “Are you crying?!”
It took her a while to respond. “Yeah, I… I’m having a really bad headache right now. It’s probably because I woke up right away when you found me downstairs...” she said, feigning a chuckle. “Mrs. Hubbard came over to massage my head.”
Bullshit. He knew she was fucking lying, and he knew the reason well why she was crying.
“We need to talk…”
Mrs. Hubbard looked back and forth between them. “I’ll get back to her later.” She glanced at Reena, pointing to the bedside table. “Dear, take your pills, hm?” Then, she lowered her head and walked past Tommy, scooting back to the nursery.
He stood by the door while staring at her. Her attempt to veil what was going on before he came never really pulled off. She was still smiling, but her hazel eyes were giving away her true emotions. She could try all she wanted for all he cared, but he’d never believe her.
“What are we going to talk about?” she asked, lifting a hand awkwardly toward her temple and rubbing it with her fingers in a circular motion.
Tommy’s growing annoyance was ready to burst. He stepped inside the room heavily. “Did you really mean what you said earlier?!” His brows churned at the recollection of their conversation.
Her beautiful face frowned before him in confusion.
“Why are you telling me those?!” His jaw tensed as the pulses in his neck and temples throbbed strongly. Heat swept within him like wildfire. It was almost the same, gutting feeling he’d experienced in moments when his life was on the line. Like when he faced Sonny. Like when he attacked the Haitian factory. Like when he murdered those bastards in Harwood. But not quite.
“I mean it,” she said, almost in a whisper. “I really do.”
He wanted to grab something and throw it onto the wall. Liar. He wanted to topple over the tables and chairs. Liar. He wanted to grab her arms firmly and push her to the bed.
“Don’t fucking lie to me.”
Everything became a blur as Tommy lunged forward, his hands cupping Reena’s cheeks, pulling her close to his mouth. The turmoil in his head and chest blazed like monstrous flames that burned and ravaged everything along its path. There was no room for air. Every movement his cusps made was a second closer to death, smothering himself with the kiss from her lips he yearned for so long to taste.
Tommy expected her to shove him away and resist him, but she didn’t. She fucking didn’t, and she was letting him suck the life out of her breath as his tongue invaded her mouth. Though a whimper escaped her lips, seemingly struggling to gulp for air, not once did her hands push him. Instead, her arms wrapped around his head, locking him into her embrace.
With his right hand on her scruff and his left hand on the small of her back, Tommy held Reena close to his body. His loins were burning, and the more they devoured each other’s lips, the more implausible it was becoming for him to extinguish the fire they started.
“Stop me,” he managed to say between their heated kisses, the battle within him escalating to break free. “Please…”
But she didn’t utter a word, her actions speaking louder than any protest.
Their bodies bounced on the mattress, creating a loud, squeaking sound. Tommy crawled on top of her as his hands moved their way down to the hems of her shirt. Her movements mirrored his as she fumbled for the belt in his pants, stoking the flames of his desire.
“Say stop,” he implored.
But she didn’t.
Summoning the last ounces of strength he had, Tommy pulled away from her grasp, breaking the spellbinding moment. He stepped back, creating a definite distance between them, his heart climbing to his throat. Reena sat on the mattress, her hand clutching her chest. The room seemed to hold its breath as if waiting for the aftermath of the moment, leaving them both out of breath.
Tommy left Reena’s bedroom in a hurry, his heart pounding in his chest. He rushed straight to his room and locked himself inside, seeking solace from the storm of emotions raging within him. Pressing his back against the door, he thumped his head vehemently on the surface, trying to clear his mind from the whirlwind of conflicting feelings.
His hands trembled as he grabbed the collar of his shirt, yanking it open without a care for the buttons that snapped in the process. He needed air and sanity to process what had just happened, the intensity of the moment still reverberating through his body.
Running his fingers slowly through the strands of his hair, he tried to regain control of himself. As he did, he found himself brushing his thumb against the seams of his lips, the memory of their passion still fresh in his mind. It was like a spark that had ignited, turning into a fiery blaze as it swept every nerve in his body, leaving him both exhilarated and terrified.
He kissed her.
She kissed him back.
Tommy had never felt so alive before, awakening his suppressed feelings that had been simmering beneath the surface for far too long.
Lost in his thoughts, Tommy sank onto the edge of his bed. He and Reena had crossed a line that could not be undone.
His life would never be the same again.
The taste of her lips lingered on his, a reminder of something forbidden he’d tasted, and he knew that the conflict within him was far from over…
Notes:
Thank you so much for reading! <3
Chapter 45: Sandcastles
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
ALTHOUGH REENA HAD been awake for several hours, she didn’t dare leave her bed, let alone her room. Sleep had eluded her, and she wasn’t even sure if she had managed to doze off at all. The two hours she spent with her eyes closed in the early morning had only left her with a throbbing headache. She attempted to count sheep, paced back and forth until her legs grew tired, and even resorted to covering her head with a pillow. Unfortunately, none of these tactics brought her any closer to slumber, not when what happened kept on replaying in her mind.
Desperation to forget gnawed at Reena from within. The memory of the look in Tommy’s eyes when he had stepped back lingered. Regret… that was what she saw. He’d pleaded with her to stop him, yet she had faltered – she couldn’t, and while she remained on the mattress, he scooted out of her bedroom as if he was frantic to get away from her.
Reena understood it was wrong, yet her body and mouth surrendered to his advances. She kissed him back with fervor and eagerness that, even when he gripped the back of her neck and guided her down onto the bed, she didn’t resist. As his hands trailed down her side and caught the edges of her shirt, she found herself fumbling for his trousers.
Perhaps, she liked it. Perhaps, she wanted more.
She squeezed her eyes shut. Reena touched her fingers to her lips. Maybe it was his way of pushing her away. He had insisted on honesty between them, and she wasn’t being dishonest. Maybe he hoped to provoke her into rejecting him by taking an action he believed would make her scornful – like kissing her. In truth, she might have done just that, if she hadn’t come to recognize that she’d been denying her feelings for him all along.
What do I feel?
But there was no sense in thinking about it. After all, last night might have been the last time she’d seen him in the estate.
The splash of water on her face proved insufficient to cleanse the persistent memories. They invaded her thoughts relentlessly, refusing to be shaken off. Even as she brushed her teeth, the sensation of his mouth lingered, a memory that had nearly torn her lips apart. Several hours had gone by, yet her cusps remained tender from the fervent intensity of his kiss.
As the sun started to shine brighter, Reena figured it was time to go out. Another day ahead to cherish with her son in their favorite spot – the shed Tommy had built for her. She planned to spend the whole day with Cleo before going back to work tomorrow. Sunday. A perfect day for her little family, right?
She slipped into a robe, letting it hang loosely over her shoulders. Tying the belt around her waist was the least of her concerns. Stepping into the hallway, the sound of Cleo’s laughter from the nursery reached her ears. A smile tugged at her lips as she pondered what was amusing him. Cleo had a knack for finding joy in various ways. He could amuse himself, but his energy seemed to amplify when he was around others.
“Oh, you got strong legs like pops!”
Cleo chuckled and squealed.
“Come on buddy! Come ‘ere!”
“Papa!”
Cleo was standing on his tiny feet, a bright smile gracing his face. His arms were outstretched slightly as if maintaining his balance. And not far away, Tommy was crouching and keeping a vigilant watch. His arms extended forward, poised to catch Cleo in case he stumbled.
Reena froze, a gasp escaping her lips uncontrollably.
Her reaction caught their attention, and they both looked in her direction. Instead of moving forward, Cleo altered his course and headed toward her at the doorway. Taking small steps, the boy giggled with each stride, his little teeth peeking through his parted lips. When he was near, he nearly tottered, but Reena caught him swiftly, prompting a burst of laughter from the boy.
“Mama!” Cleo yelped as she stood and scooped him up. Witnessing her son so joyful in the morning was a constant source of delight. He had a way of brightening her world. She was confident that just by seeing him, all the thoughts that had been plaguing her would fade away. And, indeed, Cleo had that effect, although not entirely successful now, not when the root cause of her worries was right there in the same room.
Like her, Tommy stood back up. He looked a bit surprised, but not as much as how stunned she was.
She lifted Cleo against her chest and planted a kiss on his cheek. Then, she turned her gaze toward Tommy. “Hey...”
Tommy simply pursed his lips. Well, what else could she expect after such a simple, one-word greeting? Reena wanted to say more, but an overwhelming wave of thoughts seemed to have jammed her ability to speak.
“Mrs. Hubbard’s downstairs,” he said softly, clearing his throat. “She’s making breakfast.”
Reena nodded, her arms embracing her little boy. Tommy was dressed in the same outfit from the previous night, though the buttons at the neckline were now missing. “You’re here early today...” she remarked.
In her thoughts, Reena couldn’t help but berate herself for her words. Of course, he came early, and she didn’t need to state the obvious! Was her mind so clouded that she couldn’t string together a sensible sentence worth responding to? If she were in Tommy’s shoes, she probably wouldn’t even bother talking to her. What foolish, small talk.
“Actually, I stayed for the night.” He scratched the back of his head. “And I… I wanna say sorry for–”
“It’s okay,” she interrupted. “It’s perfectly fine. You don’t have to say sorry.”
Perfectly fine. Brilliant. Did she just admit she enjoyed what happened?
“Alright...” He looked uneasy as he marched toward the door.
Reena sidestepped, giving Tommy room to pass. But the instant he was within arm’s reach, Cleo leaned forward, his hands stretching out for Tommy. “Papa!” the boy exclaimed, and though his words were muddled, it was obvious that he wanted to be carried by Tommy.
Without hesitation, Tommy welcomed Cleo into his arms. Reena handed the boy over to Tommy gently, her fingers briefly grazing his. She struggled to ignore the sensations, yet it seemed as though Tommy was grappling with something beneath the surface as well.
“Maybe we go downstairs?” he suggested. “Have… breakfast?”
A second chance. She’d witnessed this scenario before, and she hadn’t been fond of how it played out. Now, presented with an opportunity to respond differently to his invitation, she was determined to make things right. There was no radiant smile on his lips or a hopeful glint in his eyes, but this time, Reena was prepared.
“Of course…”
Quietly, they made their way to the balcony. With each step, her heart pounded against her ribcage. It had been ages since she experienced these familiar flutters – those butterflies. This blend of torment and delightful ache hadn’t visited her in so long. The last time she’d felt it was with Claude. However, looking back, Reena recognized she had also felt it when Tommy stood at her door in Angel Pine, when he whisked her to Vice Point Langer, and even when he asked for her hand. The simmering heat and tension that stirred in her stomach and chest whenever they were alone together, particularly when their gazes locked...
Had the butterflies always been there, ready to flutter against the walls of her stomach?
“D’you have anything to do with Cleo today?”
His question tossed her back to the present. She gripped the handrails as they reached the stairs. “No, I don’t have.”
“I wanna take him to the beach. The weather seems great.”
She nodded and glanced at him. “Yeah, he’d like that. I’m sure.”
They remained silent as they walked, exchanging no words until they made it to the hallway that led to the kitchen. Indistinct murmurs gradually got clearer, echoing through the corridor. Mrs. Hubbard’s voice was discernible, engaged in conversation with others of low voices.
“Did you see them talk last night?” one man, his words slightly muffled by the food in his mouth, asked.
“I told you… I left before they even talked.”
“You said the Miss was crying.”
“Oh, she was. I needed to comfort her, but that was before Mr. Vercetti–”
The conversation ceased abruptly as Reena and Tommy reached the doorway. Mrs. Hubbard, Marcus, and Leigh stared at them, a mixture of shock and astonishment etched across their faces, the latter appearing more amazed than stunned. Several seconds later, they resumed their activities in a somewhat forced manner. The clatter of utensils against each other grew faint, the sizzling sounds faded, and even Marcus’s sipping became muted.
Tommy moved to an unoccupied seat and picked up a piece of toasted bread. After taking a bite, he offered it to Cleo, who accepted it eagerly, gripping the toast with both hands and nibbling on it with his small teeth. Reena found herself gravitating toward the kitchen island. She retrieved two cups and while pouring coffee into one, she glanced at Tommy, clearing her throat.
“Would you like yours with cream?”
“Yeah. Sounds nice.”
Aware of Marcus and Leigh’s gaze on her as she prepared their coffee, she continued her tasks, moving to the table and setting the cup before Tommy. He accepted it and sipped leisurely, his expression shifting with each swallow. A sigh escaped his lips, a sign of comfort brought by the warmth of the drink. Reena stirred her coffee, adding a sugar cube before allowing the aroma to diffuse, hoping it would help dispel the prevailing awkwardness she needed to endure.
Mrs. Hubbard cleared her throat, and Reena couldn’t have been more grateful for the small interruption, a breath of fresh air to shatter the stifling silence. “Would you like to have bacon and eggs, Mr. Vercetti?”
While chewing, he nodded. “For Reena too.”
The old woman looked pleased as a smile appeared on her lips. “Of course. Just pale, dear?”
“Mine would be. But Tommy likes it toasted.”
Marcus choked on his coffee, a small amount of the hot liquid spilling onto the island. Leigh snorted in response.
“Here you go…” The old woman cheerfully placed the plate on the table. “Toasted bacon for Mr. Vercetti.”
As Cleo devoured nearly the entire toast, Reena retrieved another slice and generously spread butter across it. She ate in complete silence, aside from Cleo’s cheerful chatter as he munched away. Strangely, it seemed like his innocent babbling was the only welcome interruption at that moment.
Tommy picked up a fork and took a strip of bacon. “Say, we go at ten?”
“Yeah, you can. I’ll prepare his things. I got him a cute pair of clothes last week.”
“Marcus and Leigh will drive the Moonbeam. Mrs. Hubbard rides with them. You and Cleo are in the Cheetah with me. Is that alright?”
For a millisecond, she halted, but before she could rouse more reaction, Reena nodded and resumed eating. She had assumed Tommy was only taking Cleo, excluding her from the plan. Yet now, Tommy was making it evident that he intended for her to accompany them – to the beach.
“Where are we going, Boss?” Leigh asked. When Reena looked at him, he was throwing her a curious glance.
Tommy delicately cut a small portion of egg and offered it to Cleo. While the boy chewed, a mixture of oil and egg yolk stained his little lips. Reena reached for a napkin, but Tommy extended his hand. Rather than rising from her seat, she passed him the cloth, their fingers brushing briefly. Reena deemed it insignificant, yet Tommy’s gaze flickered toward her for an instant. Then, he smiled as he wiped Cleo’s mouth.
“We’re going to Ocean Beach.”
They ate breakfast together. Marcus and Leigh moved without uttering a word, while Mrs. Hubbard didn’t conceal herself anymore from watching her, Tommy, and Cleo. The silence persisted, but it was no longer suffocating.
After their meal, Reena swiftly prepared, gathering all the things that Cleo might need in their little getaway, but she couldn’t deny herself the excitement in her chest. She grabbed a white shirt and jeans to wear, but when Mrs. Hubbard saw her, the old woman took the clothes from her and pulled her to the closet instead.
“You can’t go out in those clothes!” she reprimanded, then she drew a thin-strapped white dress, one of those given to her by Tommy. “Here, try this instead!”
Reena hesitantly took the dress. “I don’t know, Mrs. Hubbard. It’s a bit too short, isn’t it?”
“Nonsense!” Mrs. Hubbard hollered. “It’s perfect on you! I’m sure Mr. Vercetti will like it!”
She felt herself blush, recalling his compliments about the dress she wore that night in Vice Point Langer. Biting her lip, she tucked her hair behind her ears. “I-I don’t think… No, Mrs. Hubbard, I–”
“Oh come on, he might be waiting for you downstairs already!”
Mrs. Hubbard pushed her into the bathroom, urging her to put it on. Reluctantly, Reena did so, pulling down the dress over her body, the hem of its skirt ending just above her knees. Reena tugged the dress to cover her thighs, ashamed that much of her skin was exposed.
As she got out of the bathroom, Mrs. Hubbard and Cleo were no longer in the room. Taking a deep breath, she grabbed a tote bag that carried some of her belongings and left the room while still consciously patting her skirt down. She made her way down the stairs, crossing the foyer until she reached the threshold.
Mrs. Hubbard, who had been securing Cleo in the backseat of the Cheetah, turned to look at her. Her eyes widened slightly, her gaze filled with a mix of surprise and admiration. She clasped her hands together over her chest, her smile warm and encouraging. “Oh, it’s perfect, dear! You look amazing!”
Tommy emerged from the back of the car, his attention drawn to her as well. His reaction was more subtle, but his eyes seemed to linger on her. Reena blushed, feeling a mixture of embarrassment and pleasure. She slowly descended, and despite the high sun, she felt her arms shiver.
“Let’s go?” he asked, though, for a moment, Reena thought he looked at her twice.
They got in the car. Cleo was tucked safely in the backseat, holding some of his toy cars. Reena glanced over her shoulder and reached for her son, squeezing his hand gently as he smiled. Tommy turned the ignition on, the car rumbling beneath their feet, and in one, swift push to the gearshift, the car glided out of the estate with a gentle hum.
The trip to the beach was filled with an unusual silence save for the song playing on the radio. Tommy drove, focused, his hands firmly gripping the steering wheel. Reena sat in the passenger seat, stealing glances at him from time to time, trying to decipher the emotions that seemed to flicker across his face, but he remained impassive.
From the rearview mirror, she glanced at Cleo. He was strapped tightly in the convertible car seat, content and unaware of the tension Reena was feeling. He played with a toy car, occasionally giggling at the simple joys that only a child could find in the world. Reena couldn’t help but smile at her son’s innocence. However, despite wanting to break the silence and start a conversation, fear and uncertainty held her back, leaving her tongue-tied.
Tommy braked at the junction between Washington Beach and the Ocean Drive extension, stopping before the red light. The mellow song ended, and as a new song began, her attention was caught by the familiar lyrics that she hadn’t heard for a long time.
Here we go again,
Cruisin’ in the right side of town,
Where the chicks taste like candy, but all the guys look like clowns,
Yeah! Here’s what I’m gonna do!
I’m gonna get and fix some of the best,
Driving by in my Porscha, down in the roadhouse to get us some…
She found herself biting her lip to stop laughing. Such silly lyrics, but Fist Fury had been the most catchy song of Love Fist, a group of late 1980s Scottish men that toured the world with their rock and hard metal songs. Well, she didn’t know that much about their other songs, but the one playing on the radio had been on repeat in her childhood home in Ganton. Carl, her friend, would often play this on his portable cassette, which they’d bring to East Beach and listen to while lying on the sand and watching the sunset.
Love Fist fury, we’re just getting pussy,
Our love rockets are too aroused!
The girls are going crazy cause we ain’t getting lazy,
Shooting love fist fuel all around!
It was hilarious, but she wouldn’t deny she enjoyed listening to its repetitive lyrics and tune, bringing her a sense of nostalgia. Her head bobbed up and down as she lip-synced, feeling the rhythm of the song as it came to an end.
“Didn’t think you’d be into Fist Fury...” Tommy chuckled, adjusting the gear forward.
Shame grew in her stomach like a deluge. She didn’t realize that her movements and attempted lip-syncing could have been too loud for subtle personal entertainment. Her cheeks burned as she lowered her head and fiddled with her fingers. “It’s… It’s a familiar song.”
He steered to the right, entering the Ocean Beach driveway. “I worked for them before.”
“Love Fist?” she asked in surprise. “Really?”
“Yeah, kind of fucked up group, but the guys were nice.”
She nodded aimlessly. Who would’ve thought that Tommy knew Love Fist? Knowing that he’d seen how she jived with their song made it enough for her to feel so embarrassed of her music choices.
Once parked, Reena unbuckled her seatbelt and stepped out. She made her way to the backseat to tend to Cleo, carefully unstrapping him. As she did, she noticed the Moonbeam pulling up beside them. Mrs. Hubbard stepped out of the van and hurried over to lend a hand in getting Cleo ready for their beach adventure.
As soon as his feet touched the sandy ground, the boy hopped forward with unbridled excitement. Reena stooped down, carefully walking backward, and opened her arms, encouraging Cleo to take his first steps on the beach. His tiny shoes sunk into the soft sand, but he paid no mind as he began to stomp and toddle faster. Mrs. Hubbard joined in the celebration, cheering for Cleo with every determined step he took.
However, midway, the uneven terrain caused Cleo to stumble, and Reena instinctively feared he might start crying. But to her relief, he quickly regained his balance, his face beaming with an infectious grin. Unable to contain her overwhelming joy, Reena scooped him up, showering his cheeks with kisses, cherishing this precious moment with her little bundle of happiness.
Reena set Cleo down, and this time, Mrs. Hubbard stooped to catch the little boy. Cleo was filled with determination, eager to reach his destination, but Mrs. Hubbard playfully kept stepping back, extending his path. The farther she moved away, the more excited Cleo became, almost breaking into a run to reach Mrs. Hubbard. Reena stood back, watching the heartwarming scene unfold, her heart swelling with joy at her son’s excitement.
Marcus and Leigh walked past her, carrying a huge umbrella and pieces of plastic table and chairs. Leaving her son with Mrs. Hubbard, Reena strolled back to the car to help. She found Tommy taking baskets from the trunk, and seeing that he was holding too many, she hurried to his side and offered a hand.
“I’ll take those,” she said, reaching out for the baskets.
“Can you carry these?” he asked reluctantly.
She nodded and walked toward the makeshift cottage that Marcus and Leigh were setting up, and behind her, Tommy followed. On the sand where the umbrella’s shed reached, Reena spread a picnic blanket and smoothened it. Then, she placed the baskets on the plastic table. She brought out the food and drinks, laying them all carefully on the surface. Tommy came to her side. He helped her arrange the refreshments and stacked the utensils.
There was no denying to herself anymore. His loose-fitting shirt, light and breezy, seemed ready to catch the ocean breeze. The sleeves were casually rolled up, revealing his forearms, and the open collar added a touch of casual comfort. Paired with comfortable shorts and flip-flops, he radiated a relaxed and carefree vibe. His cologne was also overwhelmingly powerful that she had to prevent herself from leaning to her side and taking a closer smell.
“I like your dress,” Tommy murmured.
Reena felt a flush of warmth creep onto her cheeks. She pressed her lips together, trying to conceal her reaction. “Thank you, you look fantastic…”
“Trying to reciprocate my compliments?”
“If we’re being honest here, you look hot.”
Tommy’s chuckle was like a dose of satisfaction, a brief musical note to her ears that lifted her spirits. She grinned, feeling a sense of accomplishment as they worked together to set up the table.
Ocean Beach came alive with people, each drawn by the stunning panorama, much like them. Families created their own cozy spots, individuals took to the water, and children frolicked along the shore. The pristine waters gleamed under the sun’s embrace, the waves dancing gently along the coastline. Now and then, the salty breeze wafted in from the open sea, the cacophony of seagulls mingling with the joyful chatter of beachgoers.
Laughter permeated the air as everyone reveled in the picturesque beauty that enveloped them. With Mrs. Hubbard, Marcus, and Leigh in tow, they indulged in a delightful feast. While Reena fed Cleo, Tommy positioned himself beside them, offering assistance to the little one. She handed him the spoon, and he embraced the role with playful enthusiasm, turning it into a pretend airplane complete with whooshing and humming sounds before delivering the food to Cleo’s mouth. The boy’s sweet giggle resonated like a harmonious tune, a melody that Reena could listen to endlessly.
After the meal, Reena led Cleo to the shoreline and set him free to play. He eagerly dove into the sand, molding it with his tiny hands. Reena joined him, scooping water to help shape their creation. Amid her efforts, Tommy came, sitting on the sand beside Cleo. He built another tower next to the boy’s small hill. Standing back, she watched the two, witnessing her son’s curiosity as he observed everything Tommy did.
“Here are the windows…” he said as he poked holes at the top and another near the bottom, “and here goes the door. Perfect!”
Cleo giggled and clapped his hands. Tommy looked proud to please him.
“That barely looks like a castle,” she joked as she put her hands on her waist.
Tommy looked up at her daringly. “Really? Well then, let’s see what you got…”
Reena tugged at the edges of her dress, securing them between her thighs as she crouched again. She scooped water from a nearby puddle and let it flow over a mound of sand, blending the grains and water to craft shapes more intricate than the sandcastle Tommy and Cleo had fashioned. The fact that dirt was already finding its way beneath her nails and staining her dress didn’t faze her.
What she made wasn’t perfect either, but it had a better structure. Her sandcastle even had a cone-shaped roof. “Now be the judge, Mr. Vercetti,” she remarked.
“So, you’re saying that your sandcastle’s better than ours?”
“I didn’t have to say that.”
In a swift motion, Tommy punched holes into her sandcastle, leaving her open-mouthed. Her better creation got a bit deformed, and slowly, the structure she built began to crumble down.
“So this is how you play, huh?” She took water from the nearby puddle and splashed it onto him, causing his shirt to get wet.
Tommy appeared surprised, but a mischievous grin quickly spread across his face. “Oh, so you wanna play dirty?” he quipped. Scooping a handful of wet sand from the sandcastle he and Cleo had constructed, he playfully flung it at her, leaving her dress speckled with tiny stains.
“You cheater!” Reena yelped, her eyes and mouth gaping in surprise.
She gathered wet sand from her own sandcastle, now distorted, and hurled it at him. However, Tommy managed to avoid it just in time. A chuckle escaped him as he watched her frustrated expression. Undeterred, she grabbed another handful and launched it in his direction. Part of the slush grazed his shirt’s hem, though the minor stain only added to his amusement. It paled in comparison to the disarray her dress was in, making his laughter even heartier.
Out of nowhere, Cleo pressed his palms into the ground and stood up, clutching small clumps of sand. Slowly, he ambled toward his mother. Reena stooped down to catch him, but the boy surprised her by lunging forward, smearing the muddy sand across her dress.
Tommy burst into cackle as he skimmed sand from the ground, molding it into a ball. “Now you know which side Cleo’s on!”
“Oh, I doubt that very–” The sand in Tommy’s hand found its mark on her dress, leaving a smeared trail from her chest downward. “Hey!”
He caught Cleo and ran as she chased after them on the beachside. Cleo giggled as he bounced on Tommy’s limbs, squealing in excitement every time she’d near. And Reena? She couldn’t believe she was having fun. She hadn’t laughed this ecstatically for a long time. There was a faint yet certain sense of satisfaction coursing through her veins, and she let herself immerse in the moment.
Tommy turned around and stooped a little, taking sand in his right hand while he held Cleo with the other. He looked at her with a menacing smile, making her halt. Then, he began to charge at her, and as soon as Reena realized that it was his turn to chase, she spun on her heels, left her slippers on the sand, fleeing as fast as she could.
Cleo’s laughter grew louder and more delightful, undoubtedly amused by her scuttling.
Notes:
Lyrics of Fist Fury by Love Fist ❤️
Thank you so much for reading <3
Chapter 46: Learning to Forget
Chapter Text
THE SKY WAS painted with dark clouds that swiftly overtook the ebbing light along the horizon. With Cleo nuzzling into his chest, Tommy embraced the boy in comforting warmth. Tilting his head, he caught a hint of the salty smell clinging to Cleo’s skin, proof of the long hours they’d spent playing by the shore that afternoon. He pressed a soft kiss onto Cleo’s head, his lips lingering against the tousled strands of the boy’s hair.
In the passenger seat, they found respite, while Reena steered with great care on the wheel. The road unwound before them as they passed beneath the welcoming arch of Starfish Island.
Bound home after a tiring day… a tiring day Tommy was willing to live over and over again.
“I can’t believe you’re driving,” he commented, glancing slightly at Reena beside him. He couldn’t help but smile, watching her prudently steer the wheel to the estate’s driveway.
The car glided up the ramp, and a sigh of relief escaped her lips. “You soiled my dress, that’s why,” she murmured, a playful quirk lifting the corners of her lips into a silly grin.
Tommy’s laughter resonated with her soft giggle in harmony. The urge to keep his eyes fixed on her was strong, yet he resisted, not wanting to make his gaze overly obvious. Instead, he shifted his attention to the rearview mirror. In the backseat, Mrs. Hubbard’s head bobbed up and down, her eyes closed as she dozed, unaware that they’d reached their destination.
He cradled Cleo a little higher, the boy’s cheek finding a comfortable perch on his shoulder. Cleo had slipped into a deep slumber, his small hands marked by smudges of sand. Stepping out of the car, Tommy carefully passed the sleeping child into Reena’s arms. He was a bit reluctant to let him go, yet when his fingertips brushed against hers, he felt a compelling need to repeat the action.
“Go on, I’ll take care of the things,” he said, briefly touching the crook of her elbow.
“Thank you, Tommy,” she whispered, a soft smile curving her lips as she enveloped Cleo in her embrace. With a still-yawning Mrs. Hubbard in tow, they ascended the concrete stairs together, leaving Tommy behind in the car. He watched their ascent, waiting until they disappeared through the doorway. As soon as they vanished from his view, he wasn’t able to stop grinning to himself. Then, he made his way back to the trunk, retrieving the items he’d promised to tidy up.
The Moonbeam’s engine noise ceased behind him, accompanied by the flicker of lights. The van’s doors swung open, and both Marcus and Leigh emerged, sporting matching smirks on their lips.
“How’s it going, Boss?” Marcus inquired, a distinct excitement infusing his tone. “You’re in quite the mood today…”
“Yeah, Boss!” Leigh chimed in eagerly. “Tired as heck but still smilin’ like crazy.”
Tommy chuckled, shaking his head at their antics. He gathered up his belongings, and with a playful beam thrown in their direction, he joined their climb up the stairs.
The estate felt completely different now. The old gloomy hall that used to greet him whenever he came back had transformed into a lively space. Tommy’s eyes were drawn to the fancy chandelier hanging above him as he made his way up to the second floor. He exchanged a nod and a smile with one of the mobsters he passed by, and he couldn’t help but notice the guy’s surprised look.
It was a far cry from what it used to be. No more misery and tension. He couldn’t even care less about the stacks of empty boxes of pizza at the corner of the balcony, unlike before when he’d yell at the mobsters for not cleaning after their mess.
Tommy headed straight for his room, still caught up in bliss. The room was empty, except for a scattering of boxes and suitcases he hadn’t gotten around to taking to the villa. But now, he wondered if he should still move out. Just yesterday, the thought of being in the estate filled him with dread. Now, he found himself brimming with anticipation for the next day.
He couldn’t shake off the memory of that sunset, the one he’d shared with Reena on the picnic blanket. The image was etched into his mind like a painting. He could still see it vividly. The sun sank on the horizon, painting the sky with brilliant hues, and the water glinted as it gently rolled onto the shore, a breathtaking vista.
As they sat there, Mrs. Hubbard and Cleo absorbed in their play, he was lost in the moment. Reena, right by his side, exuded a calm grace as she held her knees and closed her eyes, savoring the touch of the breeze. It hit him that this might’ve been the longest he’d allowed himself to just look at her since things had turned downhill, and now, to say that he enjoyed that moment was an understatement.
He stepped into the shower, and under the stream of water, he found himself humming Fist Fury, something he hadn’t done before. Never did he like Love Fist’s songs, but somehow, the tune kept playing in his mind, recalling how Reena was subtly bouncing to it in the passenger seat.
As the water cascaded over him, he wondered if it had always felt this good. He tilted his head up, letting the drops pelt his face, a simple pleasure he’d rarely indulged in. The water flowed seamlessly down his tired body, its warmth a balm to the stiffness he’d acquired. His legs, aching from his run, and his arms, strained from carrying Cleo, all of it felt like a small challenge against his otherwise perfect day.
Emerging from the shower, Tommy wore a smile on his face.
Tossing aside the towel that concealed his lower body, a faint knock sounded at his door. Wondering who it was, he swiftly pulled on his trousers, their fabric meeting his skin still slightly damp from the shower and headed for the door while bare-chested.
Nothing could explain the panic he felt when he saw Reena standing at his door, in her nightgown, holding a couple of pillows and a folded blanket in her arms.
Tommy lunged toward the bed, his fingers snatching the shirt he’d intended to put on. His heart raced as he thrust his head into what felt like an impossibly tight hole. It was the wrong hole, of course, and a jolt of frustration pushed him to twist the shirt around hastily. He fumbled to find the correct openings for his head and arms. Finally managing to get it right, he turned to Reena, his face heating up in embarrassment. An awkward smile tugged at his lips, his eyes meeting hers with a sheepish glint. But it wasn’t until he glanced down at his shirt that the realization struck him like a lightning bolt. It was inside-out, the tag and seams on full display.
“Oh, for Christ’s sake!”
Reena giggled as she put a hand over her mouth, making him feel more flustered to see her amusement. While he stood motionless, disconcerted by what to do next, her eyes briefly scanned over the suitcases and boxes strewn across the floor.
“Sorry, my room’s a bit of a mess,” he said apologetically.
“Actually, I think your room looks quite empty,” she commented, her lips stretching into a tight smile.
Tommy retrieved the towel he’d left on the floor earlier. “Yeah, I got Leigh to pack some of my things, but I might fix them…” he explained, his fingers absently adjusting the fabric.
Reena handed over the pillows and blanket to Tommy. “Has your vent been fixed?”
“Not yet, but I’ll have Mike fix it tomorrow…”
“Are… are you going to sleep here?”
“Oh, no…” he said, shaking his head. “I might stay in the office–”
“Why don’t you stay with me in the room?”
He loved talking to Reena, and most certainly, he could do it all day long, ready to tell her things that were out of this world just to get their conversation going. Every response she’d give, be they superfluous or just short, swift reactions, he was willing to take them all. Tommy would always find a word to say in return. But out of all the questions she’d ever asked, this one was beyond his grasp. It left him doubting everything, like his senses were playing tricks on him, the reality itself slipping through his fingers.
“What did you say?” he inquired, his voice unintentionally escalating, the strain causing it to waver and crack.
Reena’s demeanor turned slightly shy. She nibbled her lip and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “I’m asking you if you’d like to stay with me in the room… in the meantime? I mean, your things were packed, and your vent was broken, and… and it’s better to sleep on a bed than on a couch?” she explained, her words stumbling over each other as she elaborated.
Tommy wasn’t sure if repeating the question did clarify his confusion. Was she being serious? Was she drugged or something? Was she truly inviting him to be in her bedroom? There was a turmoil in his head that he couldn’t appease no matter how hard he tried to find reasons.
She raised her gaze to meet his once more, and in her hazel eyes, Tommy caught a plea. It was as though she wished for him to accept, her unspoken hopes palpable. But the words he needed to say were trapped in his throat, a constricting grip that left him mute. His heartbeat pounded so hard it felt like his chest might burst. Struggling to regain his composure, he watched a glint of eagerness fade from her eyes, her chin dropping slightly as she cast him a sheepish glance.
“It’s… It’s okay if you don’t feel comfortable...” A somewhat compulsory smile briefly graced her lips, only to be swiftly followed by a crestfallen breath. “Good night, Tommy.”
Tommy remained rooted at the threshold of his room, dumbfounded. He was the kind of man who seized every opportunity. Whether it was claiming the estate, taking over Vice City, or even controlling the distribution of Spank, he’d always get what he wanted. Yet, as he watched Reena walk away, a sinking feeling gripped his heart.
Was he that stupid not to respond to the simple question she asked? Was he too overwhelmed with his assumptions and doubts and fears? Was he going to let this chance go? Had he just–
Fuck it.
In a bolt, Tommy sprang into the hall, not minding whether his feet thumped too loud. She was already at the end of the hallway, the light from the corner shining on her, casting her shadow on the floor.
“Reena…” he called out.
Her head snapped up, her gaze locking onto him. “Yes?”
His heartbeat seemed to stretch time, a slow rhythm echoing in his ears. Heat surged through him, starting in his chest, spreading to his stomach, and coursing through every inch of his body. Swallowing, he felt a faint ache in his throat. His legs wobbled, but he pressed on, moving toward her with careful determination.
“I… I might use a company… tonight.”
Her face transformed in an instant, breaking into a permissive grin. She continued in her path, and he trailed after her. As they reached her room, Reena moved around the bed, shedding her robe as she did, leaving him momentarily breathless. He hastily averted his gaze, feeling his cheeks burn.
Tommy lingered at the bedside, clutching the pillows and the blanket against his chest. Reena settled gracefully onto the left side of the bed, slipping beneath the covers. “I hope it’s fine with you being on the right side…”
All he managed was a nod, an attempt to convey his understanding. The door behind him stood ajar, and he debated whether he should close it. “Did Cleo wake up?” he inquired, his feet seemingly glued to their spot as he remained hesitant to even touch the bed.
“Oh, he didn’t at all. Me and Mrs. Hubbard need to give him a wipe before changing him into his pajamas,” Reena explained. On the bedside table, she picked up a book, flipped to the marked page, and settled in, arranging a pillow behind her back and placing the open book on her belly. But just before she began reading, she cast a glance in his direction. “Is it okay if you close the door?”
It was then that Tommy finally moved from his spot. In a quick motion, he gripped the handle and gently shut the door. The bolt clicked into place, and a bead of sweat trailed down his cheek. For a moment, he stood there, unsure of his next move, his grip on the doorknob unrelenting.
“Are you okay?” Reena asked, staring at him worriedly.
Tommy jolted out of his reverie, scratching his head in a nervous gesture before nodding. Wordlessly, he closed the distance to the bed and slowly settled himself onto the mattress, placing the things he held at the foot of the bed. Taking a deep breath, he extended his legs and slipped them under the covers, gently adjusting the sheet he realized he was sharing with her.
“Would you like to have a separate blanket?”
“No, it’s… I’m fine.”
As conscious as he was, Tommy noticed that Reena remained unfazed. She exuded a calm composure, her soft gaze tracing the words on the pages as her lips moved in silent reading.
For fuck’s sake, he’d been anticipating this very moment, but it seemed like every nerve in his body was rebelling against his intentions. Restlessly shifting and adjusting himself, he turned to face the other side of the bed. Tommy tucked a pillow under his head and arm, attempting to find a comfortable position. He squeezed his eyes shut, making a conscious effort to steady his breathing.
His heart, however, pounded against his ribcage as if he’d just sprinted a marathon. The loud thumping made it difficult for him to catch his breath. Inside his head, a steady refrain echoed: he needed tosleep, he had to sleep, he must sleep.
It was cool. The air conditioner was on. The bed was immaculate and soft. Yet, he was sweating and probably soiling the sheets he was lying on.
After a while, the mattress on the opposite side gave a subtle dip, and even with his eyes shut, Tommy was aware of Reena repositioning herself. The light from the lampshade dimmed as she settled in lower on the bed. He felt the duvet being tugged gently. Slowly, she drew closer, until her motions ceased entirely. The creaking of the springs subsided, leaving only the quiet hush of their shared space.
“Good night, Tommy,” she said softly, followed by a deep breath.
He stole a glance over his shoulder, spotting her with her back to him. “Good night, Reena,” he responded, the words coming out more strained than he intended.
For an indefinite stretch of time, Tommy grappled with sleeplessness. He’d narrow his eyes, willing himself to keep them shut, yet he’d often find himself staring into the void, drawn to the moonlight seeping through the window. The night was deep, and the gentle rhythm of Reena’s breaths next to him became a constant murmur.
It all felt surreal, almost too good to be true. Just a week ago, he’d trudged through what felt like a never-ending nightmare, teetering on the brink of his own heartbreak. Now, here he was, trying to find rest beside the very woman he’d yearned for.
Finally, peace settled over him. Slowly, his resistance faded, and he began to drift. His eyelids grew heavy, tugging him toward the welcoming embrace of slumber. However, just as he swayed on the edge of oblivion, a faint whimper broke the stillness. The sound, though low, was unmistakable, and Tommy’s gaze instinctively darted over his shoulder.
Reena’s back was still turned to him, but he could discern the subtle movements of her arms as if she were recoiling from something unseen. Her breaths were quick, and her shoulders rose and fell with an intensity that couldn’t be ignored. Suddenly, she shifted, tossing onto her back. Her face, shrouded in the darkness, twisted with turmoil.
Tommy leaned closer, his fingers gently grazing her cheek. “Reena?”
Her eyes fluttered open as if she’d been roused from a haunting dream. Swiftly, she sat up, her body bending forward as her hand pressed against her chest. She brushed the back of her hand under her cheek. “What happened?” she asked, looking at him cumbersomely.
“You were dreaming,” he whispered gently, his gaze shifting from her eyes to the traces of tears on her cheeks. “And you were crying.”
Reena’s mouth opened, but no words emerged. Her gaze remained fixed ahead, distant and unfocused. Gradually, her hands lowered to her lap, and Tommy watched her, recognizing the effort she was making to recollect whatever had just transpired.
“I… I dreamed of Claude again…”
The sorrow in her voice was undeniable. Had she been like this all the time? Tommy had no intention of pressuring her into talking about something she might not be prepared to share, so he refrained from asking any questions. Instead, he let his hand descend to the arch of her spine, an offer to help her settle back onto the bed.
However, she gasped, and then her eyes locked on his. “In my dream, the waves carried me,” she said. Tears welled up once more, and despite her obvious efforts to suppress them, they spilled down her cheeks. “I tried to reach for his hand, but the waves dragged me away... and I... I couldn’t see him anymore…”
She broke into sobs, her hands covering her face. Tommy’s heart ached seeing her like this. He’d been privy only to her refusals, her outward dismissals, but he’d never glimpsed the moments of vulnerability she experienced when she was alone. Now, he understood why.
Reena was still grieving, plagued by dreams that revisited her loss only god-knows-when. Nearly two years had gone by, yet she remained trapped in her pain, unable to move forward. And she hid it all behind a façade, shielding her sorrow from everyone, himself included.
It was a reflex. He enveloped her in his arms, drawing her close against his chest, and gently guided her back onto the cushion. “Cry it out… cry it all out…”
She clung to his shirt with a firm grip, her sobs wracking her body as she buried her face in his limbs. “I’m sorry… I’m sorry you’re seeing me like this…”
“It’s alright,” he reassured gently, his hand stroking her back. “You don’t need to apologize…”
If there was anyone who should’ve been sorry, it was him. He’d been self-centered, consumed by his own desires. He’d found ways to get closer to her, to make her like him, to be wanted by her. What he’d failed to consider was the pain she carried, the weight of her sorrow, and the effort it took for her to hide her tears when in his presence or anyone else’s.
“I told you,” he whispered, his fingers tenderly threading through her hair. “I can no longer let you cry alone at night.”
Reena’s whimpers gradually quieted, and she took a deep, shuddering breath as she released her grip on his shirt. Lifting her head, she met his gaze, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears. Her hand rose hesitantly, her fingertips grazing his cheek as her gaze lingered on his lips. In a heartbeat, she shifted closer, her fingers skimming down his jawline before she closed the remaining distance between them.
Their lips met in a kiss that snagged the breath out of him. It was a battle he welcomed, a sensation he’d willingly die for. He closed his eyes. His hands, as if they had a mind of their own, found their way to her waist, fingers tracing the curve that flowed into her hips.
Tommy drew her closer to him, their bodies molding together. His heart swelled with an inexplicable joy. Yet, he hesitated to open his eyes, afraid that if he did, she’d pull away.
But she did. Reena withdrew, and Tommy’s eyes fluttered open, leaving him momentarily dazed. Their gazes locked, and he saw her pleading eyes.
“Help me forget,” she implored.
She didn’t have to say that.
Without a moment of hesitation, Tommy leaned in, his lips finding hers once again in a fervent touch. Reena’s hands left his face and wound around his neck, her lips claiming his with fierce enthusiasm. Their mouths moved in sync, a passionate dance that left no room for restraint. He groaned against her cusps, a sound of brazen pleasure as her ardor overwhelmed him, taking down any remaining barriers between them.
The taste of her, the taste he’d longed for, was intoxicating. It was the best kiss that Tommy had ever had, even better than their kiss last night, taking him back to the very first time he stole one from her at the Waterview. He’d never forgotten about it despite promising he would. It wasn’t just because of fleshly desires. The feeling was more than that, and it was all coming together now.
Reena broke the kiss, her chest heaving as she sat up, her gaze smoldering. With a slow, deliberate motion, she lowered the straps of her nightgown, revealing her bare shoulders glistening with a thin layer of sweat. It was an image that Tommy had long envisioned – her graceful neck leading to the delicate curve of her collarbones, her breasts rising alluringly, nipples hardened with arousal. The scattered scars on her chest seemed like constellations against the night sky, a beauty he’d never seen before.
Sitting back on the mattress, she lifted her legs slightly and shed her underwear. The hem of her nightgown still covered her hips, an enticing contrast between the concealed and the revealed.
He couldn’t wait to see it all. He wanted her. In his mouth. All of her.
Tommy tossed his shirt on the floor without a care. His hands moved toward her breasts, fingers caressing and teasing her hardened nipples. Leaning in, he pressed his lips to her skin, a trail of soft, tantalizing kisses painting a path over her bosom. Reena tilted her head back, a low moan escaping her lips as her body reacted to his every touch.
His mouth continued its exploration, gliding from one breast to the other, his lips and tongue relishing every inch. Reena’s body curved in response, her pleasure evident in every hitch of her breath. Tommy reveled in the taste and texture of her, his mouth hungry, lavishing his attention on every part of her he ached to relish.
Each time his lips closed around her nipples, his tongue coaxing, Reena’s soft moans echoed in the room, a symphony of pleasure that stirred the air. Yet, he could sense that she was still holding back. Driven by the desire to let her release the passion he knew she harbored, Tommy allowed his hand to slide down her stomach. The subtle rise and fall of her breath quickened, her anticipation palpable in the air. With a bold yet gentle motion, his fingers found their destination, caressing the apex of her thighs with a touch that made her flinch.
She felt so soft and so wet, causing a rush of heat to cascade down his loins. He kept his mouth on her breast, sucking harder one after the other, while his fingers fiddled with her sensitivity, making her squirm even more, turning her raspy breaths to louder moans. Her folds felt slick on his fingers, and her scent began to conquer his senses, driving him dazed.
Yet, with a gentle yet insistent touch, Reena pushed him back, and he complied, leaning against the headboard. His heart climbed into his throat as she moved, her hands tracing a path over his chest and abdomen, sending shivers of pleasure through him. As she leaned forward and her lips met his skin, each kiss fired up a trail that sent tingles racing across his body.
His breath flared as her mouth continued its journey, traveling down to his navel. The sensation was intoxicating, an overwhelming pleasure that left him powerless to resist. Her lips moved with a purpose, inching closer to the waistband of his pajamas. He stiffened as her fingers tugged at the fabric, exposing his fully erect cock.
The air grew stiff, and Tommy’s breath hitched as he awaited the next move, his body thrumming for what was yet to come.
Reena lowered her head, and a groan escaped Tommy’s lips as her warm, moist mouth enveloped his girth. His fingers instinctively found her hair, collecting it as she bobbed up and down, his length sliding in and out of her mouth in a rhythm that sent waves of pleasure rippling through him. He turned his head back, shutting his eyes tightly, surrendering to the stupor that washed over him.
Maybe it was the time that had passed, maybe it was the pent-up desire, or maybe it was a combination of both that fueled the intensity. But shit, how could she be this good?!
The heat of her mouth and the slick glide of her lips all combined created an experience that was both irresistible and exquisite. He couldn’t help but marvel at her skill, at the way she seemed to know exactly how to make him beg for more.
Beads of sweat formed on his forehead. Tommy couldn’t suppress his ragged moans growing even louder as he felt her take him deep into her warm, inviting mouth. Her lips and tongue worked in harmony, and with every touch, every motion, she seemed to find the precise spot. His hips arched involuntarily, a primal response to the ecstasy. Her tongue danced and twirled at the tip of his cock before trailing along its length, her actions had him teetering on the edge of control.
He never thought that waiting could be this rewarding. Fuck.
Reena lifted her head, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand when she shifted her position. She crawled and settled over him, her thighs straddling just above his length. Her dress rucked up, revealing the tantalizing contours of her hips, a sight that left him open-mouthed. With a single hand, she guided his cock toward her center.
Slowly, she lowered herself onto him, inch by inch, and he felt a tightness that sent shocks of pleasure through his body. It was intense, her warmth enveloping him with a pressure that made every nerve in his body hum. When she finally took him in completely, a high-pitched whimper escaped her lips, her nails digging into his chest.
Tommy’s fingers found her waist once again, his touch firm yet gentle as he guided her movements. He watched as her hands moved to his shoulders, her face contorting in a mixture of pleasure and pain.
Claude must’ve been her last. Had she not touched herself, even just once?
His length stretched her walls as he helped her move in a slow, deliberate rhythm. Everything around him faded into oblivion. His hips met hers, each thrust driving him deeper into her wet warmth, their bodies moving in perfect synchrony. He leaned forward, capturing her lips in a heated kiss before trailing his mouth down her neck, tasting every inch of her skin until his lips found her breasts, latching onto her nipples. He suckled and nipped, savoring the taste of her, the sensation of her soft flesh against his mouth sending jolts of pleasure straight to his core. With every thrust, he rocked her harder, the rhythm becoming more urgent and frantic. Her wetness increased, her body responding to his every movement with a passion that matched his own.
With every heave and press, his core burned, causing him to growl like he never did.
Tommy shifted their position, laying her down onto the mattress and moving above her, taking control of their rhythm. Her hands found the sheets, gripping them tightly as her moans grew louder. With every pounce, he reveled in the sound of her pleasure, each whimper a melody that stoked the fire burning between them.
Their pace quickened. In the dim light, he could see the flush of her skin, the redness spreading across her chest and face as her body surrendered to him.
He hoisted her legs, draping them over his shoulders as he delved deeper into her core. Her body quivered uncontrollably, her half-shut eyes welling with tears. Her hands found their way to her breasts, her fingers tracing over her own skin, stirring an even fiercer hunger within Tommy.
She was driving him wild. And wilder. And wilder.
Unable to resist the urge, Tommy spread her legs wider, pushing them to her sides and intensifying his thrusts.
“Oh, Claude…”
It was a mindless murmur, but a sudden pang of pain gripped Tommy’s chest. She was still thinking about him. Yet, he didn’t relent, channeling those emotions into every forceful pound, their bodies colliding with a rhythmic force that defied all odds.
From her breasts, her shaking hands pushed against his chest as if to tell him it was enough. Instead, Tommy released her legs and took hold of her wrists, pinning them to the pillow above her head. Reena’s eyes widened, her mouth gaping as he held her in place. Her screams mingled with the sound of their skins meeting, her breasts jiggling with the force of his movements and rubbing against his chest in a tantalizing friction.
As her moans turned to wails, and the wails turned to whines, her core pulsed around him, a tight, wet grip that heightened his pleasure and pushed him closer to the edge. Tommy captured her lips, kissing her ardently as their bodies melded into one, the peak of their passion building to a crescendo.
Unable to hold back any longer, Tommy spilled himself into her, their bodies tangled in a fervent embrace.
He collapsed, his body tightly pressed against Reena as they both trembled in the aftermath of their ecstasy. Wrapping his arms around her, he held her close, burying his face in the crook of her neck, his nose against her skin.
Tommy was lost in her existence, and there was nothing else he could ask for.
Reena wrapped him in a clammy embrace, peppering his head with her soft kisses. Gradually, her fickle breaths subsided. Her body relaxed against his, and in no time, she surrendered to sleep.
But Tommy? He remained entwined with her, a peaceful contentment settling over him. He had no intention of untangling their naked bodies tonight, wanting to cherish the closeness that he’d longed for. Tommy stayed awake, his head resting gently on her chest. He traced soothing patterns on her stomach with his fingertips, and with a tender gesture, he nuzzled against the side of her breast, his heart dancing with an inexplicable joy.
He didn’t care that she murmured Claude’s name. All that mattered now was they finally did it.
They made love.
Lifting his eyes, he took the chance to admire her beautiful face. His hand moved up, his thumb gently stroking her cheeks and lips with a tender touch.
“You’ll forget about him…” Tommy muttered under his breath. “I promise...”
Under the Moonlight. Art by stephydrawsart_ (Reena and background) and peyaya_ (Tommy) (Tumblr, Twitter, and Instagram).
Notes:
Thank you so much for reading <3
Chapter 47: Tiring Day
Chapter Text
REENA’S MIND HAD been drifting all day. A woman with huge breasts squeezed into a tight blouse and skirt was shouting at her face, but Reena simply pursed her lips and looked through. Three bodyguards stood behind the woman, all dressed in polo shirts and slacks, exchanging confused glances with one another. Their boss was already in a state of frenzy, yet Reena remained unmoved in her spot. Even the staff beside her appeared perturbed by her lack of reaction.
“Is this how you run the business? Your services are terrible! What kind of manager are you? I’m calling my husband!”
The woman uttered a string of words afterward, most of which Reena couldn’t recall, or perhaps, she’d unconsciously chosen to forget. The woman asserted herself as the owner of this, the wife of that, and so on, but Reena couldn’t care less.
All she could think about, however, was how Tommy made her feel so good last night… so good that she couldn’t function properly at work. She was exhausted. Her thighs were stiff, and her mound was sore, but she couldn’t forget how he pounded into her on the bed.
Of course, it was different. Tommy wasn’t Claude. Her feelings for him, if she ever had, weren’t the same as what she had for Claude, but Reena couldn’t deny how Tommy made her body surrender.
So, so long.
“Are you deaf?!” the woman hollered in sheer exasperation. Reena forced herself to meet her gaze, though she couldn’t muster to give the woman the attention she needed. “This showroom had nothing but a bunch of losers! I’ll get you all fired! You’ll see!”
The woman stormed out of the showroom while she screamed a string of profanities, the heels of her sandals clanking on the pristine tiles. Her bodyguards followed, simply walking away without taking any action. Reena shook her head, and as she turned around, she gently patted the shoulder of her staff, who was on the verge of tears, offering reassurance that she’d done nothing wrong.
“It’s okay. Let’s close up, it’s already late.”
The wall clock ticked away four minutes before five. Leigh hadn’t sent her a message yet about whether he was coming to pick her up. Everyone around her began to gather their things, and she? She had no idea what she’d do once she got home.
Will he be there?
Tommy had left early in the morning. When Reena opened her eyes, she found herself lying on her stomach with the duvet swathed around her lower body. The other side of the bed was empty, but there was a note on the bedside table along with a fresh rose, its soothing fragrance filling the room.
“See you tonight.”
It was such an unfamiliar sensation. The butterflies in her stomach were fluttering wildly once more.
The clanking of heels echoed from the entrance of the showroom, prompting Reena to turn her gaze in that direction. For heaven’s sake, the woman and her bodyguards had returned. A sly smile curled on her lips, adorned with thick lipstick, and she held a phone in her free hand.
“You better have something to answer my husband!” she declared, a triumphant gleam in her eyes. “He’s getting here now!”
Oh, goodness. This woman just couldn’t seem to stop, could she? Reena let out a heavy sigh. “If you have more complaints, please return tomorrow. We’re closed.”
The woman scoffed, casting quick glances left and right, seemingly gauging her bodyguards’ reactions. They merely snickered and shook their heads, as if compelled to agree with her disdain.
“You’re not going anywhere,” she sneered. “You’re dealing with me. My husband’s business associate owns this showroom, and he’ll ensure you get kicked out of here!”
One advantage of keeping her personal life private was that people didn’t know about her relationship with Tommy. Many of his business associates frequented the showroom and made various purchases. When it came time to interact with them, they often saw her as just another female manager. Some attempted to flirt with her, wealthy older men adorned with luxurious wristwatches and driving sports cars, but she’d simply offered a polite smile. She had never shared these encounters with Tommy before because they were harmless, but she guessed today was an exception.
“Mrs. Dawson, believe me, I understand your frustration about our services, but my staff replaced everything in your car as you stated, all with original parts,” Reena explained, keeping herself as calm as she could. “We sent you the bill as it is, so we’re having a hard time comprehending what’s wrong. What exactly do you want us to do?”
The woman seemed on the verge of poking a finger into her chest, her face contorted as if she were about to explode. “Don’t you get it? My husband is a business associate of Tommy Vercetti! You shouldn’t have billed us at all!”
Reena squinted. “You want us to wave your bill?” she asked, followed by a shake of her head. “I apologize, but our services aren’t for free.”
A torrent of superfluous words gushed forth from the woman’s mouth, her arms flailing wildly as she pointed with long, red-painted nails. Reena could almost feel the spittle flying, so she instinctively took a step back. Yet, the woman surged forward, her fury unabated.
“You’re so stupid! You cunt! You don’t know who you’re dealing with! How many times d’you have to fuck your boss to get you this position?!”
That was it. Something snapped inside her. Sure, she was not a confronting person, but this woman pulled every nerve within her that she felt something twitch in the temples of her head.
“Truth be told, Mrs. Dawson, I didn’t before, but we did fuck last night.”
The woman gasped, causing a shockwave of reactions among both the employees and her bodyguards. However, the employees couldn’t hold back their laughter, while Reena suppressed a smile, savoring her quiet victory.
“Immoral! Bitch!”
“Mr. Vercetti!”
Reena stiffened in her spot, nervousness spreading in her chest.
Like a gust of wind, Tommy exuded an air that left a trail of turned heads and dropped jaws in his wake. Tall and impeccably dressed, he commanded attention with his broad shoulders and confident stride. He wore a blue-green shirt with the chest buttons undone, paired with a glistening gold necklace. Despite the casual attire, his presence was undeniably commanding. His dark brown hair was meticulously combed back, framing a chiseled face adorned with a hint of stubble that only added to his rugged allure.
How had she just noticed all these things about him?
Tommy’s penetrating gaze scanned the room, and as he locked eyes with Reena, a faint yet knowing smile curled on his lips.
She couldn’t comprehend why a warm sensation started to build in her stomach... and elsewhere.
But then, like lightning, his gaze snapped toward the woman, the dreamy look now replaced by a furious glare. “What the fuck’s going on, Belinda?!”
“Good that you’re finally here!” the woman yelled, her gaze darting between her and Tommy. “This bitch of a manager’s charging us with–”
“What did you fucking call my wife?!”
The woman froze, casting another glance at Reena. Instead of fury, a perplexed expression crossed her face. “Wife?”
“Get the hell out of here!” Tommy’s voice sliced through the tension, his finger jabbing forcefully toward the exit. When the woman remained rooted in place, he stepped closer, his eyes becoming sharper. “I said get the hell out!”
“Alright! Alright!” the woman yelped, panicking, her words trembling as she hastily scampered toward the door. Her bodyguards scrambled to keep up with her, their eyes wide with apprehension. She continued to cast anxious glances over her shoulder as she reached the exit, her steps frantic and unsteady. At the threshold, she nearly stumbled before finally making her way out.
A warm hand gently touched the crook of her elbow, and when Reena turned, she was met with Tommy’s gaze, his eyes now shimmering with a tender light. The ferocity he’d displayed while facing the woman had completely disappeared. “Are you alright?” he inquired softly, his voice filled with genuine concern. “Did she do anything to you?”
Reena shook her head, her heart pounding beneath her chest. “No, no, she didn’t,” she replied. The warm, intoxicating sensation intensified throughout her entire being, and the scent of his cologne seemed to draw her even closer. “W-Why are you here? Where’s Leigh?” she asked, her curiosity tinged with a hint of excitement.
“I told him I’d pick you up,” Tommy answered, his gaze briefly drifting to the other employees in the showroom. Then, he leaned in closer to her, their faces just inches apart. “Ready to go?” he whispered.
Reena nodded, her pulse quickening. “Yeah, I’ll gather my things upstairs.”
“I’ll wait for you in the car.”
Reena practically flew up the stairs, her heart drumming a wild, exhilarating beat in her chest, her steps vibrating beneath her feet. She immediately got her bag, but before she descended the stairs, she turned in the restroom’s direction and cast one last glance in the mirror. She turned on the faucet, wet her hands, and ran her damp fingers through the strands of her hair, giving them a tousled, inviting look.
From her pocket, she retrieved a tube of strawberry lip balm. She smeared it generously across her lips, the taste of strawberries dancing on her tongue as she smacked her cusps together. Then, she reached for the bottle of cologne inside her bag. With a few spritzes, she coated her neck in its fragrance.
Why was she conscious all of a sudden?
With a final look in the mirror, Reena released a deep, dense sigh and left the office. She tugged at the hems of her dress, which had ridden up to her inner thighs. Reena glanced around the main hall, where only a couple of her staff remained. She greeted them with a warm smile and a wave before heading straight for the exit. Along the way, she tucked a few stray strands of hair behind her ears, her every movement radiating a sense of anticipation.
In the parking lot, Tommy stood by the passenger side of the Cheetah, his back turned as he engaged in a phone call. “Get your wife a damn leash,” he growled into the phone. “Make sure she never sets foot here again, or you’ll be swimming with the fishes in the sewers. Got it?”
Tommy ended the call, pocketing his phone, and turned around, his eyes widening as he realized that Reena had overheard his conversation. A mischievous grin spread across his face as he opened the car door, letting her into the car.
Reena fastened her seatbelt, her eyes fixed on Tommy as he sprinted around the car’s hood with boyish, carefree energy before sliding into the driver’s seat.
As he clicked his seatbelt into place, Reena cleared her throat, her gaze steady on him. “You didn’t mean what you said, did you? Mrs. Dawson was just being rude,” she ventured, her voice gentle and concerned.
Tommy let out a nervous chuckle, his eyes briefly meeting hers. “I meant about half of it, but don’t worry,” he reassured her.
With a swift motion, he inserted the key and twisted it, igniting the engine. The car roared to life, and they glided out of the Sunshine Autos premises, embarking on their journey through the vibrant streets of Little Havana, beneath the captivating twilight sky.
It was a breathtaking sight. Birds gracefully soared through the pink and orange skies, adding streaks of warmth and joy to the heavens. On the horizon, majestic purple clouds advanced slowly, their tranquil presence conquering the fading daylight with graceful elegance. In the distance, the lights of Vice Point twinkled like distant stars, casting an enchanting allure over Bayshore Avenue.
“Do you have a new perfume?” he suddenly asked.
Reena’s shy gaze shifted toward Tommy. His eyes remained focused on the road ahead, and a soft love song played gently on the radio.
“Yeah, I’m trying a new one, grapefruit…”
“Say, you wanna go out on a dinner tonight?”
His question caught her by surprise, and she felt a warmth blossom within her chest. “That sounds nice, but… I’m kind of spent today…”
Tommy arched an eyebrow, his eyes briefly flicking toward her with a sly grin. “Long day at work?” he asked, teasingly.
Reena couldn’t help but grin back. She knew he understood the real reason behind her fatigue. “Yeah,” she replied with a playful glint in her eye. “I just really need a shower...”
Their journey back home was relatively short, and they arrived just before dusk. As they entered the driveway, the grand gates swung wide open. Two men stood at the threshold, saluting Tommy. He responded with a warm smile and a flash of his headlights.
The familiar surroundings welcomed them, everything appearing as it always had, unchanged by time. Yet, for Reena, there was a subtle difference. A tingling sensation coursed through her body, its source elusive and mysterious, leaving her with an inexplicable but exhilarating feeling.
They headed straight for Cleo’s nursery. Tommy stepped in first, lifting the boy by the crook of his arms. He swayed the child gently, while Reena and Mrs. Hubbard watched with smiles on their faces. The elderly woman’s expression radiated delight as she observed Tommy and Cleo. She even threw a somewhat insinuating glance toward Reena, a knowing smile playing on her lips, before returning her attention to the pair.
After a few minutes, Cleo squirmed in Tommy’s arms, his eyes heavy with sleep, reaching out for Reena.
“I think he missed you,” Tommy remarked as he transferred Cleo into her embrace. The little boy almost immediately clung to her neck, seeking the comfort of her presence. Tommy leaned in and planted a gentle kiss on the top of Cleo’s head, his hand lightly touching the small of her back, eliciting a slight flinch that she couldn’t quite suppress.
Reena gazed up at Tommy with a warm smile, wondering if he felt the same way, but his expression remained the same. She hoisted the boy a bit higher in her arms, feeling the weight of her growing son. Regardless, she held Cleo more tightly as he nestled his head against her shoulder. Leaning down, she planted a tender kiss on his rosy cheeks, and the little boy responded with a contented smile before closing his eyes.
Tommy remained beside her, his hand lingering on her back, gradually sliding down toward the curve. “You should be fast asleep by now, buddy,” he murmured, casting her a sidelong glance.
Reena couldn’t help but feel a sense of confusion wash over her. What did he mean by Cleo needing to be asleep already, and why did he look at her like that? Questions swirled in her mind, leaving her wondering about his intentions…
If they had the same intentions.
“He’s always like that, Mr. Vercetti,” Mrs. Hubbard interjected, scratching her head in a gesture that inadvertently diffused the growing tension that Reena was feeling. “He usually settles down once Reena comes around.”
Reena placed a gentle hand over Cleo’s head, tenderly caressing her peacefully sleeping boy. She made an effort to refocus her thoughts. “My baby’s always waiting for me...” she murmured.
She didn’t leave the nursery until Cleo was completely asleep and she felt confident enough to transfer him to the crib. The little boy stirred slightly and let out a few soft whimpers, so she patted his thigh while humming a lullaby.
Without her noticing, Tommy quietly left the room.
A few more minutes passed as Reena watched her son slowly drift into a deep slumber. When she was certain he wouldn’t wake again for the night, she straightened up and gently squeezed Mrs. Hubbard’s arm, silently expressing her gratitude.
“Are you alright, dear?” Mrs. Hubbard inquired as Reena neared the door. “You seem quite tense...”
Reena offered a weary smile. “I’m fine, Mrs. Hubbard. Just a bit tired, that’s all.”
The elderly woman leaned in a little closer, her voice tinged with wisdom. “You know, dear, you should seize the moment,” she advised gently. “Go on, I’ll take care of this little angel.”
She felt her heart skip a beat at Mrs. Hubbard’s words. What did she mean by that? She contemplated asking the elderly woman for further clarification, but an inexplicable force seemed to draw her toward her own room, compelling her to leave the question unanswered…
And seize the moment.
Tommy was nowhere to be found, which left her feeling somewhat disappointed. She surmised that he must have retreated to his own place or his office. And so, Reena closed her door, thinking that a soothing shower might help her unwind. After all, if they were to meet at the dinner table later, she didn’t want Tommy to think she was letting herself go.
It struck her as amusing how she’d become so mindful of these details now.
Reena shed her clothes, folding and placing them in the laundry basket. She entered the shower room, completely bare, and swiftly turned the knob. The bathroom was adorned with sleek black marble tiles, their subtle white wave-like patterns enhancing its chic ambiance. The sight never failed to offer her a sense of tranquility.
Beneath the stainless steel rack holding an array of toiletries, a rail was securely fastened. It supported a variety of body wash, shampoo, and conditioners, each neatly arranged. Reena reached for the overhead shower, which hung just a few feet above her head, giving the impression of standing beneath a gentle rain pour. As she turned it on, a fine mist began to form on the glass divider, separating the shower from the rest of the bathroom, keeping the dry area pristine and untouched.
The warm water cascaded over her skin, its gentle touch creating a tickling sensation. She tilted her head back, welcoming the splashes on her face as the water flowed from her head down to her toes. She brushed her fingers through her hair, allowing the water to seep through the strands. Then, she ran her hand along her neck, ensuring that every inch of her skin received the embrace of the water.
She reached for the body scrub she’d recently purchased, squirting a modest amount onto the scrub. The sandalwood-scented body wash began to lather and foam as she applied it to her skin, its soothing aroma filling the air as it worked its magic. Starting with her shoulders, Reena applied the scrub in gentle, circular motions, her fingertips occasionally brushing her temples. Moving on, she worked the scrub under her armpits and along her arms, creating soft squishing sounds as the bubbles and water mingled. She added more soap and continued to scrub, focusing on her neck, both the front and the back. Her attention then drifted lower, down to her chest, where she applied the scrub beneath the curves of her breasts.
Amid the lathering and scrubbing, her thoughts involuntarily returned to her reveries of the previous night. Throughout the day, she’d attempted to deceive herself, fighting to suppress her thoughts of Tommy. She’d been blinded by resentment, incapable of recognizing all the goodness she might have missed. But as soon as she felt his warm embrace, a switch within her seemed to flip.
At that moment, a wave of realization washed over her. Tommy had been there for her through thick and thin. He’d been the source of her joy during her time in Angel Pine. He’d saved her, Cleo, and 8-Ball from the clutches of Joey Leone that fateful night. He’d shielded her from the judgment of others, even at the cost of his own relationships and freedom. He’d treated Cleo as his own, willingly shouldering a responsibility that he didn’t have to. Tommy had been a constant presence in her life, guiding her on the path of self-discovery, helping her make gradual progress each day.
He’d been there to celebrate with her, sharing in her moments of triumph. And just last night, when she was at her lowest, he’d been there to be her anchor as she grieved, providing the unwavering support she so desperately needed.
Reena had, for a long time, managed to restrain any thoughts of intimacy, not even touching herself since Claude’s disappearance. She’d forgotten just how amazing it felt, but Tommy had swiftly rekindled her awareness. His kisses and embraces were overwhelming, plunging her into a whirlpool of irresistible bliss. She’d told herself that her body belonged only to the man she loved, to Claude, but it had unwillingly yielded to the man she’d made love with last night.
Lost in her thoughts, the door to the bathroom suddenly slid open. Startled, she instinctively turned her gaze to the other side, catching a fleeting glimpse of a tall silhouette behind the misty glass divider.
“Can I join you?” Tommy’s hoarse voice resonated through the bathroom’s four walls.
Reena’s stomach fluttered, a delightful sensation washing over her. “O-Of course,” she stammered slightly.
Behind the divider, Tommy swiftly shed his clothes, discarding them to the side. A lump formed in Reena’s throat as he entered the shower and stood directly behind her. It wasn’t the first time he’d seen her bare, but she still felt a touch of embarrassment, bowing her head slightly while trying to discreetly cover her breasts.
He moved closer, and their skins made contact, sending shivers down her spine. Tommy let out a soft grunt, tilting his head back and raising both hands to slick his hair back, allowing the water to cascade down his robust limbs and abdomen.
She couldn’t resist stealing a glance at Tommy beside her, briefly taking in the bass clef tattoo on his shoulder, before averting her eyes and returning to her scrubbing. She began to lather herself, working her way from her belly, around her waist, down to her hips. However, she found it challenging to reach her back.
“You need help?”
Reena swallowed hard, her throat constricting, but she nodded in response.
Tommy took the scrub, applying a modest amount of body wash to it. With a gentle touch, he began to rub her back, his firm hands holding the blades of her shoulders as he slid down the arc of her spine. Gradually, he brushed the scrub along the back of her shoulders, kneading them tenderly. Reena closed her eyes, moaning softly as she surrendered to the soothing strokes of his grasp on her tense body.
“Was it a tiring day at work?”
Reena hummed, savoring the firm strokes of his thumbs as they circled on pressure points along her back. It felt incredibly good, and she couldn’t help but wonder how those skilled hands might feel somewhere else. “Hmmm... I should’ve handled Mrs. Dawson more delicately.”
“You handled her quite well,” Tommy mumbled, his hands gradually gliding down to her stomach. “Are you worried about her?”
“Yeah,” Reena replied, gasping softly as the scrub fell to her feet. Tommy’s hands cupped her breasts, massaging her bosom with a sensuous touch, occasionally brushing his fingers over her sensitive nipples. Her breath quickened, and she found herself panting for air between her words. “She... she was angry because... she didn’t want to pay...”
“She mentioned talking to her husband?” Tommy prodded, a hint of amusement in his voice as he continued his sensual caresses.
Reena nodded, trembling as his fingers teased her stiffened nipples and traced slow circles around her areolas. The way he expertly squeezed sent waves of heat coursing through her, his fingertips gently coaxing her sensitive peaks to respond. She placed her hands over his, reveling in the sensation of his touch on her flesh.
“Do you like that?” Tommy whispered into her ear, his warm breath tickling her hair.
She shuddered, her body reacting with soft, involuntary groans as she became completely absorbed in pleasure.
“I’ll take care of her, don’t you worry,” he assured her with confidence, his voice hushed in a tantalizing manner. “She’ll come crawling, begging on her knees for your forgiveness...”
Reena wanted to ask Tommy what he had in mind, but she was far too distracted to form coherent thoughts. Words couldn’t adequately convey what she was experiencing. His hands continued their journey, moving down the sides of her torso. Along the way, his thumbs traced circles on her muscles until they reached her hips. There, his hands shifted position, and he began to fondle her behind, causing her to draw a sharp breath.
“Stay still,” he commanded.
Tommy knelt on one knee, his face now tantalizingly close to her center, and she could feel his pointy nose gently brushing against her rear. His fingers caressed her legs from top to bottom, starting at her groins and grazing the apex of her thighs. His touch caused her to jolt as his fingers pressed into the soft muscles around her thighs, occasionally eliciting ticklish sensations. He then slipped his hands down her calves, kneading them gently with his thumb. His other fingers pressed into her shins as his hands glided toward her heels.
Her half-shut eyes flickered with delight as she reveled in the strokes of his strong yet tender hands.
Suddenly, Tommy took hold of the arches of her hips and turned her around.
“Lean against the wall,” he instructed. “I’ll lift your foot.”
Reena complied with his command. He started with her right foot, cupping his hands around the curve of her arch and gently pressing his fingertips onto the taut bones. One by one, he massaged her toes, starting from the little one and moving toward the big toe, carefully kneading the pressure points. His fingers trailed along the instep, circled her ankles, and moved to her heels before returning to the instep. As the water flowed over her legs, washing away the soap, Tommy looked up at her. He used his thumbs to caress the soles of her feet, creating sensations that made everything feel a thousand times better.
Her body waned as she felt his warm mouth press against the sensitive spaces between her toes. A moist, tantalizing tongue slipped between them, eliciting an involuntary flinch. Tommy’s lips left a trail of stimulating kisses as they moved from her toes, up her shin, tracing a path to her knee and then further still, ascending her thigh until he reached the apex once more.
With a sly glance upward, their eyes met fortuitously, and Tommy’s lips glistened with a mischievous gleam. He pressed soft, lingering kisses against her exposed skin, his touch electrifying her senses. Gently, he lifted her left leg and draped it over his shoulder, coaxing her to open up further.
Unable to contain her embarrassment, she covered her mound with her hands, her breath coming in heavy, panting gasps.
“You want me to stop?” Tommy asked, though it looked like he was more teasing.
It was as if her head automatically shook, then slowly, she removed her hands.
Tommy pressed his body close. A feather-light touch grazed her, and then, with a teasing peck, his warm tongue ventured toward her core. Reena’s entire body tensed as she felt him glide and swirl, his gentle licking tracing between her folds.
Reena gasped aloud as he navigated her most intimate places. His tongue ventured deeper, exploring the depths of her crevice, causing her to arch her back on the cold, wet walls. Tommy, seemingly enjoying her response, continued to suckle on her clit, his movements making her quiver and twitch.
“Be careful,” he whispered between licking and sucking. “Wouldn’t want you to slip.”
All Reena could manage in response was a silent nod, her brows furrowing in delight.
As Tommy’s explorations ventured inward, his tongue thrust into her center, making her breath rise. Reena surrendered to the rhythm, her movements synchronized with his fervent lapping. A crescendo of pleasure surged through her as she approached her climax. Tommy held her firmly, subtly elevating her position until she was half-sitting on his face.
Reena felt herself melt in his grasp as she came, surrendering to his insatiable mouth. He teased her clit, tugging it ever so gently for a few seconds before resuming his enthusiastic suction.
He wasn’t fucking done yet.
“Tommy...” she whined, almost begging. He didn’t answer.
His fingers came in, causing her face to churn. They were long, hard, and skilled, exhibiting undeniable dexterity as they bent and twisted within her, dancing in perfect harmony with his warm, swirling tongue caressing the surface.
There was no time to recover. In a frenzy of desire, Reena began to undulate her hips, matching the rhythm of his mouth and fingers that steadfastly slid in and out of her hole. Her clit throbbed, hard and swollen, its sensitivity bordering on the brink of pain. Yet, the waves of pleasure that surged through her body eclipsed any discomfort, rendering her powerless to resist the relentless onslaught of ecstasy.
She quivered and shook helplessly in front of the man who sucked the life out of what made her a woman.
Reena just wanted a hot shower. But now she was trembling and reeling, weak and exposed, needing and desiring more.
Tommy gently released her legs, allowing her to descend to the floor where the water continued its journey toward the drain. As he rose, his lips and tongue traced a path from her moist thighs to her navel and chest. Delicately, he circled around her perky breasts, expertly pinching and tugging on her nipples.
The only anchors she had were the surrounding walls and a nearby handrail, preventing her from completely collapsing onto the floor.
Their lips met in a fiery embrace, and Reena tasted herself from his mouth as their tongues danced together. Tommy pressed his body against hers, and the unmistakable sensation of his hard length pressing against her was proof that her pleasures were not ending yet.
Tommy drew away and tenderly cupped her cheek, his eyes smoldering.
“Now, bend over...”
Reena obeyed, placing her hands on the glass divider, presenting herself to Tommy’s desire. His fingers traced a path along her split.
“You’re so wet, baby,” he murmured against her ear.
With her body poised and eager, Tommy positioned himself, guiding his cock to her crevice. Her body welcomed him as he entered, urging him to groan. Tommy’s arm wrapped around her waist, his grip tender but possessive. As his groans turned to growls, he nudged himself deeper into her depths.
Reena could feel herself stretch as he drilled her from behind.
“I’ve been thinking about you all day,” he whispered, his teeth and tongue teasingly grazing her scruff. Tommy thrust himself deeper and pulled back until only the tip of his length remained inside her, then forcefully slammed himself back into her hole. She whimpered, and her face remained pressed against the steam-kissed glass divider, creating a misty veil over her mouth.
Finding their rhythm, Tommy eased himself further into her, each thrust more intense than the last. As they moved together, Reena, caught in the heat of the moment, lowered one of her hands to herself. She stroked herself, relishing the intoxicating sensations as her walls clenched in response. Tommy’s grip on her waist tightened, his fingers digging into her flesh, while his other hand firmly held her at the curve of her hips. From her bent position, he lifted her, her body reclining against his.
He filled her neck with fervent kisses as her moans echoed, something she couldn’t control. Tommy gently removed her hands from her clit and took over the motion, driving her to heights she hadn’t anticipated. His strokes were commanding yet precise, and as he bit her shoulder, Reena surrendered, her body trembling with the pleasure. She cried out in ecstasy, her left hand tightly gripping his, while her right hand reached for his behind, pulling him closer to herself.
“Oh fuck…”
Reena felt him twitch inside her, his release coinciding with hers as they stood locked in a passionate embrace, gasping for air beneath the flowing water.
After a few more intense thrusts, Tommy stilled, his lips moving from her neck down to her shoulders, where he planted a soft, lingering kiss. Reena’s whole body wavered, exhaustion and pleasure washing over her, threatening to send her collapsing into his arms if not for his hold that kept her upright. He gently turned her around, wrapping his arms securely around her, and she reciprocated by embracing him as well.
“You taste like strawberries,” he purred, a silly smile playing on his lips.
Reena clung to his neck, rising on her tiptoes to kiss him once more, savoring his cusps. When she pulled away, she noticed his eyes were still closed.
“It’s my lip balm,” she quipped.
Their laughter filled the space between them, and as Tommy drew her close, Reena pressed her cheeks against his warm bosom, feeling the steady, reassuring beat of his heart...
Notes:
Long ago, when I wrote this, I intended this to be a one-shot. As gratuitous as it might be, it's my guilty pleasure, and I'm not ashamed of it >.<
Also, starting this week, I'm going to post two chapters every weekend. I want to get over Part 2 so I can finally move on to the next arc, and perhaps, find more purpose. Lol.
Thank you so much for reading my nonsense, if anyone's even here <3
Chapter 48: Daughter-in-Law
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
BREAKFAST IN BED. It was the kind of surprise that greeted Reena as she opened her eyes in the morning. A Love Fist song played in the background, and she couldn’t help but cup her hands over her face, grinning ear to ear. She could feel her cheeks burn, not from the queen-like treatment of being served with butter-toasted sourdough, freshly squeezed orange juice, and a bowl of cereal on a tray on the bed, but because Tommy stood before her, completely naked. This wasn’t the first time he’d pulled this stunt in their two months together, yet the excitement remained just as thrilling.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, a mischievous glint twinkling in his eyes as he sat on the mattress.
She chuckled, peering between the gaps of her fingers. “I wonder what you want me to have for breakfast…” she said, her eyes darting toward his chest.
“You can have it all,” he quipped, grabbing a piece of toast from the tray. He took a generous bite, his expression a testament to its scrumptiousness. “It’s delicious. I wonder what you’ll taste this morning–”
“Tommy!” Reena cut him through, giggling as she pulled the blanket over herself. “Don’t be silly, I thought we were going somewhere today?” She took her toast and began munching, savoring the buttery flavor of the bread that she was sure Tommy hadn’t prepared because he always burned the toast every try. “Mrs. Hubbard?”
“Uh-huh,” he affirmed between bites, licking the glaze of butter from his fingers. “We’re still going. I’m taking you to Print Works. We’re seeing Pops.”
“Mr. Kelly?” Reena paused, mouth full of bread. “Does he know we’re going?”
“Yeah. I talked to him yesterday. He wants to show me the new rollers, and he asked if I could drop by… and bring you.”
She fell into silence. As Tommy had mentioned before, Earnest Kelly was like a father to him, which meant that meeting him was akin to facing an in-law. He had walked her down the aisle, the kindly old man in the tuxedo. While it wasn’t her first time seeing him in person, it was certainly the first time he’d asked for her, and Reena couldn’t help but feel a wave of nervous tension wrap around her head. The thought weighed on her, and her head began to throb, urging her to press a couple of fingers against her left temple. Lost in thought, she stared out the window for a little longer than she realized until Tommy playfully nudged her shoulder.
“What?” she asked, swiftly lowering her hand.
He looked concerned. “Are you okay about this? We can always do it another time if you’re not up for it.”
Reena shook her head briskly, her smile stretching widely. “Oh, no... I’m just a little nervous and dizzy right now. I’d love to meet him.”
“Do you wanna bring Cleo?”
“No, no... Let’s leave him to Mrs. Hubbard,” she said as she finished eating the toast. “I just often feel giddy in the morning…”
“We should get you checked up, then.”
“I’ve made an appointment already,” she said as she lifted her hand again and rubbed her temples in circles. “Maybe it’s the pills.”
With a gentle coaxing, Tommy removed her hands and took over the light massage. “Can I come with you?”
“You don’t have to. It’s nothing. Maybe I just need a replacement.”
Although he looked reluctant, Tommy nodded and rose from the bed, his hefty rear coming into view. Reena giggled, and before she could even cover her eyes again, he took her hands, his smirk naughty. “Come on, now. Let’s get rid of that headache in the shower...”
It took her an effort to leave the bed, but Reena obliged anyway.
With a flurry of last-minute preparations after their little adventure and a heartfelt goodbye kiss to Cleo, Reena and Tommy left the estate. The sun bathed the car’s interior in a soft, golden light, casting a warm, intimate ambiance. They held hands as they cruised toward the heart of Little Havana, exchanging stories and laughter, making the short trip feel like an escape from the world.
As they arrived at Print Works, their car found a snug spot under the shade of a tree. Reena stepped out onto the sun-kissed lot, taking in the familiar surroundings. However, her attention was quickly drawn to a peculiar car parked not too far away. Two men, dressed in brown coats and sporting sunglasses, stood beside it. Their presence seemed out of place, and they noticed Reena and Tommy, their callous glances hidden behind the dark shades. It left Reena with an unsettling feeling.
“Just ignore them,” Tommy said as he took her hand, his fingers interlacing with hers. “They’ll leave shortly after we talk.”
The building’s inviting facade, gilded with artistic graffiti, welcomed them with open arms. As they entered, the sharp, almost chemical tang of ink mingled with the faint woody smell of paper hit her nose. Reena tugged her gaze around, trying to spot where Earnest Kelly was.
But it seemed like everybody in Print Works was busy. Several men were taking old machines out of the building while others pushed what looked like brand-new rollers. Still covered in extensive plastic, the new ones were relatively bigger. The other staff were unpacking the rollers and moving them to the side, near the corner of the printing area, an organized chaos in the expansive main hall.
Then, in the far-end corner, Reena finally saw him. The old man was crouching down, his distinct blue overalls over striped long sleeves and a cap giving away his identity. A younger man bent beside him as they talked and pointed to the controls at the bottom side of the machine.
“There he is,” Tommy muttered, his voice tinged with excitement. He tugged her hand gently toward the old man’s spot. “The new rollers could print shit three times faster and more than the ancient ones.”
“What are you printing here anyway?” she asked. Earnest Kelly was still oblivious to their presence.
“You’ll know… soon,” Tommy snickered. “Pops will tell you, I’m sure.”
The old man stood, a visible grimace crossing his face as he pressed a hand firmly against his aching back. The strain of stooping down for too long had taken its toll, and he seemed relieved to straighten up. As he glanced over his shoulder, an instant smile lit up his weathered face, masking the discomfort momentarily. With a gentle pat on the top of one of the rollers, he wiped his ink-stained hands on his tattered denim jumpers, slowly making his way toward them in the clearing. His steps were deliberate, but his smile remained warm and welcoming.
“Sonny!” he exclaimed.
Even though she’d heard Tommy talk to him on the phone countless times, they hadn’t seen each other for what felt like ages. The pure joy radiating from the old man was palpable as if he’d been yearning to see his son after a long time.
Earnest Kelly stopped in his tracks. With a warm smile that reached his sparkling eyes, he extended his weathered hands, his eyes locking onto her. “Mrs. Vercetti, I’m so glad to see you again...”
“You can call me Reena, Mr. Kelly,” she said, reaching out her hand for a friendly handshake. “I’m happy to see you too.”
Tommy seemed pleased by their interaction, a fulfilled smile lacing his lips. Looking around, he pointed at the new rollers. “So Pops, how are the machines?”
“Fine as fuck, sonny!” the old man yelled with unabashed humor. His eyes darted from the new rollers toward Reena, and then he winked, his playful spirit coaxing a light-hearted giggle from her.
Reena tugged Tommy’s hand, urging him to look down at her. “Now I know where you got that mouth of yours!” she whispered playfully.
Earnest seemed to hear her as he chuckled in response, his eyes gleaming with mirth. “Oh, yeah! But I’d say his mouth was dirtier than mine!”
The old man’s humor was spotless, and Reena couldn’t help but share a laugh with him, though at Tommy’s expense. She couldn’t resist a mischievous glance at Tommy, who, for effect, appeared to be feigning to be thoroughly pissed off. His exaggerated scowl added another layer to Reena’s amusement, prompting her to stifle another giggle.
“Are you two done making fun of me?” Tommy asked, his right brow arching.
Seeing the pout on his face, Reena reached out and gently clung to his arm. With a playful glint in her eyes, she blinked and beamed at him, leaning closer to his side and resting her chin near his shoulder. “Sorry,” she said with a warm and sincere beam.
Tommy wasn’t able to keep up his pretense. Unable to resist, he let go of his façade and clasped her hands on his arm, letting out a snicker. “You can make fun of me for as long as you like,” he said, leaning down to kiss her.
“Oh, damn you two…” Earnest interjected, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he smiled. “Sweet as hell! I can’t imagine living with a husband like that!”
Reena and Tommy laughed in response to Earnest’s remark. She leaned in even closer to him, pressing her cheek against his arm. However, while they were caught up in their conversation, Reena noticed a man in a brown coat approaching and standing not too far from them. Tommy and Earnest Kelly seemed to notice him too, their expressions turning serious.
Earnest Kelly cleared his throat, seemingly swallowing a lump down. “Sonny, they’re here to deliver the plates, and they wanna speak with you.”
Reena cast a sidelong glance in the strange man’s direction, her head filled with wonder and curiosity. He stood there with an air of authority, a sense of purpose emanating from his demeanor.
“Don’t worry about it. Where is he?”
“In the office, sonny. I told them I’ll sign, but he insisted on seeing you.”
Tommy’s reaction seemed unfazed, but Reena could feel a subtle intrigue within him. He looked at the man and jerked a nod, signaling the latter that he’d follow. The man turned away, his steps heavy on the ground, and disappeared at a corner.
“Is it okay if I leave you with Pops for a while?” Tommy said, catching her hand, a warm smile lacing his lips. “I’ll just check what they wanted.”
Albeit feeling a pinch of fear in her chest, Reena forced herself to smile. “If it’s okay with Mr. Kelly?”
All of a sudden, Earnest shoved Tommy away, then, he took Reena by the crook of her elbow, snatching her from Tommy’s grasp.
“Go ahead now, sonny! I’m pretty sure your lovely wife and I had plenty to talk about! Get outta here!”
Tommy frowned in confusion. “Let me say goodbye to my wife first–”
“Nah, not a chance!” Earnest Kelly pressed a hand against his chest, keeping him away from reaching Reena. “You gotta miss her sometimes. Now, off you go!” the old man quipped, fluttering his hand outward and shooing Tommy away.
A flicker of playful determination flashed in Tommy’s eyes as he stepped backward. “I’m getting you back, baby…”
“No, you won’t until I’m done with ‘er!”
Reena’s laughter bubbled forth in response to Earnest’s words, leaving Tommy without a choice but to follow the man in the brown coat. With a subtle wave of goodbye, she watched her husband swiftly saunter away. Tommy followed the man down a hallway, disappearing into an office.
Now, Reena found herself alone with Earnest Kelly. His presence was very welcoming, exuding warmth and hospitality, eager to introduce her to every nook and cranny of the bustling establishment. His face lit up with pride as he showed her the intricate workings of the machinery and introduced her to the staff who brought the print shop to life.
Earnest Kelly shared anecdotes of the shop’s history and recounted tales of triumphs and challenges that shaped its legacy. His passion for the craft was contagious, and Reena was captivated by his stories, not allowing her to feel bored.
“Since Mr. Vercetti bought Print Works, he made a lot of changes in this damn old building…” Earnest Kelly said while he pointed at the old images of the enterprise hanging on the wall.
The once single-level structure already had its additional two floors – the offices and the pantry were located on the second floor and the storage was on the top floor. Earnest explained that it was where the printing materials were kept, including the bottles of ink, and chemicals for cleaning the machines, papers, and plates, among others. The second floor, on the other hand, was where most of the employees would stay during break time. There was a huge lounge in the corner room and a small kitchen area where they could store, prepare, and cook their food. He bragged that Tommy made sure the company would seem like a home so that his employees wouldn’t get burned out and work to their full potential.
“You know, he wanted to use Print Works to make newspapers and magazines, those low-grade crap. I told him we could produce his own money here.”
“How were you able to obtain the materials?” Reena asked.
“Oh, Tommy handles all of it. Took out a syndicate single-handedly and brought here the fucking plates.” He leaned closer toward her as if he was going to tell a secret. “Those men in brown coats, they’re his suppliers,” he whispered.
“Really?” She looked over her shoulder, finding no one close to them at earshot. “They’re syndicate?”
Earnest Kelly nodded, leading her into a small room filled with steel cabinets and racks. “Your husband’s good in businesses, always hands-on…” he boasted with a hint of pride. He opened a drawer and retrieved a stack of newspaper clips about the enterprise. Among them, one headline caught her attention. It declared the company as one of the fastest-growing small businesses recognized by the Vice City Bureau a few years back. Reena’s eyes fell on a photo featuring Earnest Kelly, two other employees, and, of course, Tommy himself.
She smiled as she stared at his picture, thinking about how young he looked before. “What about you, Mr. Kelly? How long have you been working here?” she asked, her eyes scanning through the displays in the office. There were a lot of pictures and memorabilia hanging on the wall.
“I’ve been here since the early 1980s,” he said, pointing at a black-and-white picture. “Vice City’s way simpler back then. This business was doin’ damn fine until fucknuts came, those gangsters around here in Little Havana. They hurt the business a lot, we’ve almost closed down…”
“How did you recover?”
“We almost didn’t, but Mr. Vercetti came and bought the place in ‘95. I was surprised. I thought he’d like to tear the machinery down and sell them. Never knew his father was into this business too. Sentimental for him. He wanted to keep it.”
Reena pursed her lips as she nodded. “Tommy told me that you taught him how to use the rollers wisely…”
Earnest chuckled aloud. “You know, Tommy’s kinda naïve back then. Considering he ain’t just a normal businessman, he didn’t know how to take advantage of this stuff...”
“I suppose he isn’t that kind of man from the start…”
The old man snorted. “I guess you could say that…” He motioned for her to sit on the chair, and then he sat across from her, leaning forward. “You know, Reena, for years I’ve known Tommy, I think this is the happiest I’ve ever seen him.”
“Yeah, I think he likes what’s happening in Print Works now...”
Earnest smacked his lips, a gesture of eagerness, and leaned in closer, his eyes filled with excitement. “No, that’s not what I mean! I’ve never seen him so happy.”
The intensity of the old man’s gaze made Reena realize the deeper meaning behind his words, and a warm flush of embarrassment spread across her cheeks. She could feel herself blushing. Lowering her head, she peered at Earnest Kelly shyly. “Do you think so, Mr. Kelly?” she asked, uncertain yet curious, wanting to understand what Earnest saw in Tommy’s happiness.
“I always mess with him. I tell him he gotta bring his bitches and introduce ‘em to me. I never knew he’d bring me a woman.”
His candid and straightforward revelation was endearing, stirring a gentle flutter in her heart. “Have you met Tommy’s other girlfriends before?”
“No! You’re the first one he introduced to me! I’m fuckin’ sure you’d be the last one too.”
Reena found herself feeling unexpectedly flattered, a warmth spreading through her as she leaned forward, moving to the edge of her seat, hoping to draw closer to the old man. “Mr. Kelly,” she began, her tone filled with curiosity, “I’ve been meaning to ask. Does Tommy ever talk to you about me?”
“You’re equally naive, aren’t you?” he teased gently. He leaned back in his seat, his hand gesturing upward as if mimicking Tommy’s animated storytelling. “Of course, he did! He’d say, ‘Pops, I just met the most wonderful woman in the world!’” Earnest Kelly exclaimed, rising from his seat. He casually put his hands in his pockets, striking a pose reminiscent of Tommy, his face mirroring the same exuberance that her husband often displayed when speaking.
Reena chuckled lightly, thoroughly amused by the accuracy of Earnest’s interpretation of Tommy. “I think that’s just a bit of an exaggeration,” she replied with a playful twinkle in her eye.
“Oh, Reena,” Earnest began, his voice carrying a heartfelt tone, “You never know how excited he was when he got your number a few years back, or when you finally agreed to come with him here in Vice City! He even came to me and told me he was getting married to you – and, damn, I even asked him if he was sure as hell, and he just said, ‘Pops, she’s the only one I’m dreaming of every night…’”
Her cheeks flushed in embarrassment, but even more so, in deep fondness. With each revelation that Earnest shared about Tommy, the sincerity of his feelings became more evident. She was moved by the fact that Tommy had confided so much in the man he regarded as a father figure. How blind could she be not to see all these things sooner?
Earnest Kelly stood, urging her to follow, and Reena obliged. He led her to the pantry, the air filled with the aroma of fresh coffee and the faint hum of the air conditioning. The shelves were stocked with supplies, and in the corner, a small fridge stood, filled with cold beverages. Earnest pulled out two cans of soda and handed one to Reena with a warm smile. They both took a seat at a nearby table, their conversation going on seamlessly, moving from lighthearted anecdotes to more heartfelt discussions about life and family.
“Tommy told me before that he doesn’t want a family, you know…” the old man said as he sat back down. “But when you came, you and your son? He just wanted to fuckin’ settle down…”
Immersed in their conversation, she lost track of time. Reena opened up to Earnest, sharing her hopes and dreams, even things that she couldn’t tell Tommy. The old man listened attentively, offering words of wisdom and encouragement, making her feel like she’d gained a new confidant and friend in him.
It was only when a sudden and rather loud harrumph from outside the room broke them out of their little bubble, catching both their attention and making them turn their heads.
Tommy’s smile was radiant as he leaned against the doorway, his hands casually tucked into his pockets. “So, Pops, how’s the conversation going with my lovely wife?”
Earnest chuckled, shooting Tommy a knowing look. “She’s a hell of a chatter!”
“Compared to you, sir!” Reena playfully retorted, putting a hand on her chest with a teasing tone. “He’s told me a lot of stories about Print Works… and you…”
Tommy walked in and settled into a seat next to Reena, wrapping his arm around her shoulders. “Oh really? What kind of stories?” he asked, seemingly pretending to be curious.
“Just the good ones, sonny. Just the good ones…”
“Good,” Tommy said, looking into her eyes with an intensity that made her heart waver. “I already got the plates. They’d left. But we gotta go now. I got some matters to take care of,” Tommy said as he glanced at Earnest Kelly, his voice wistful.
The old man’s smile gradually faded, and his face took on a look of disappointment. “Well, you two better get going,” he said. He stood and extended his hand to Tommy for a handshake, then playfully pointed at Reena. “You gotta give me more pieces of this woman next time!” His mischievous remark lightened the mood despite his initial dismay.
“Haven’t I given enough of myself to you, Mr. Kelly?” Reena cried.
“Why are you calling me with that mister shit? Call me Pops!”
Reena’s emotions surged within her, and it felt as if her arms had a mind of their own. Without hesitation, she took a step toward Earnest Kelly and enveloped him in a tight embrace. “I’ll see you again, Pops,” she whispered.
The old man leaned close to her ear. “Keep my sonny happy, will ya?”
His plea tugged at her heartstrings, and she felt a warm wave inside. Reena responded with a tender kiss on Earnest Kelly’s cheek, conveying her promise to fulfill his wish. As she let him go, a farewell smile graced her lips, and she reached for Tommy’s hand, their fingers entwining with each other’s.
As they stepped out into the parking lot, Tommy draped his arm around her waist. They strolled toward the Cheetah in the parking lot, marching in silence together.
Reena glanced at Tommy, her mind wondering about what could be bothering him. His demeanor seemed to have changed after his meeting, and she couldn’t help but notice a flicker of something in his eyes, subtle yet distinct. A hint of unease that he was trying to conceal.
Tommy’s hold on her tightened just a fraction as if seeking reassurance. She leaned closer, resting her head on his shoulder, hoping to provide the comfort he needed. They reached the car, and Tommy gallantly opened the door for her with a small, appreciative smile.
However, just as she was about to get in, he unexpectedly cleared his throat, propping his arm against the roof of the car, and gazing at her with a pensive expression. Reena paused, her intuition telling her to listen, and she patiently waited for him to find the words to express his thoughts.
“What had Pops told you before we left?” he asked, his eyes squinting.
Taking a brief pause, Reena smiled, finding in his eyes a deep sense of yearning and interest. His stare seemed to beckon her, almost compelling her to lean in and tenderly embrace his neck.
“He told me I make you happy…” she said, her eyes darting to his lips. “And I promise that I’ll keep on making you happy every single day…”
Tommy’s eyes narrowed, then his lips quirked up. His hands tenderly cradled her cheeks, drawing her nearer. In the heart of the open parking lot, on the cusp of the busy streets, amid the cacophony of blaring horns and the rumble of engines, Reena surrendered to his kiss.
As their lips parted, Tommy gently pressed his forehead against hers, and they stood there in a wordless embrace, their breaths mingling in adoration. The world around them faded into insignificance, leaving only the soft, rhythmic cadence of Reena’s heart echoing in her chest.
His eyes softened as he locked his gaze with hers, the once-present worry now replaced by a deep sense of contentment. “You don’t have to promise me anything,” he whispered, his voice filled with sincerity, “because you already make me happier than I ever imagined.”
Even without Claude, she didn’t expect life would be as good as this.
Notes:
This is an implied reference to Spilling the Beans and Hit the Courier (GTA Vice City).
I just love Earnest Kelly! Such a cool guy.
Thank you so much for reading <3
Chapter 49: Warning
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
THE RUSTED GATES of Pier 2 stood as a weathered sentinel, their aging metal caked in copper-like degradation, and the once-vibrant paint that adorned the foundations had yielded to the relentless march of time. The waves, with their rhythmic crashing, played a never-ending song against the pier’s time-worn planks and railings.
Tall palm trees swayed with the gentle cadence of the sea breeze, casting shifting shadows upon the ground. As Tommy emerged from the Cheetah, the welcome they offered felt like a distant memory. Fixing the lapels of his suit, he strode toward the berth where he watched the sailors lower the stairs.
The yacht’s gleaming white hull rose prominently from the water, reflecting the sunlight and creating a dazzling display. Its polished surface, free from blemishes, testified to meticulous care and maintenance, a contrast to the condition of the wharf itself. From his position, Tommy could see the expansive windows in the upper decks, giving a glimpse of the interior within.
Gone were the days when he’d visit this place and spend time with his so-called friend.
Mooring lines and gangplanks connected the yacht to the dock, allowing Tommy to board the watercraft. With a heavy sigh, he walked straight to the upper deck, ignoring everyone else he passed by until he saw the colonel.
“Thomas, I appreciate that you accepted my request to meet.”
He kept a stern face. “Don’t mention it.”
Juan Cortez strolled to the table, extending a subtle invitation for Tommy to occupy the vacant chair opposite him. Tommy obliged, his movements deliberate and cautious, all the while keeping a watchful gaze.
The colonel nonchalantly pivoted away from Tommy, directing his attention to the expanse of the sea beyond. As the sun descended toward the horizon, its golden rays slowly waned, casting a vivid orange hue across the sky. The transition from daylight to nightfall painted a mesmerizing canvas, a luminous spectacle that gradually faded into the obscurity of the distant horizon.
“Would you like some roasted tapir snout?” The Colonel’s query came as he glanced back momentarily over his shoulder.
“No,” Tommy retorted without masking his disinclination. “In fact, I wanna get to this straight because I have an important engagement to attend to.”
The area reverberated with the raucous squawks of seagulls, a flock descending upon the docks for a brief respite. However, as the waves crashed against the cemented berth, the birds abruptly took flight, their instincts warning them of the impending threat posed by the surging water.
“Have you heard about the group?” Colonel Cortez asked.
Curiosity welled up within Tommy as he harkened back to his encounter with the supplier in Print Works. According to the man, a new player had entered the scene from the north, offering a substantially higher price for the counterfeit plates. Despite this, the supplier claimed his loyalty by refusing to do business with the new group out of respect for Tommy.
Grateful for the supplier’s allegiance, Tommy had insisted on sweetening the deal with a few extra thousand dollars, a gesture that had elicited a pleased grin from the man. However, when it came to discussing the new group or sharing any valuable information, the supplier had clammed up. He cited a commitment to maintaining the confidentiality of his clients, leaving Tommy seething with frustration as he felt like his time had been wasted on the supplier’s double-edged loyalty.
“Yes,” he responded, trying to match the colonel’s callousness. “What about them?”
Juan Cortez spun to face him, his face overshadowed by gloominess. “A source of mine says they’re an old enemy of yours…”
Tommy was certain that he’d gathered his fair share of enemies over the years, and it seemed to him that the Colonel was either concealing crucial information or was simply ignorant about the situation.
“You gotta be specific,” he demanded. Tommy drummed his fingers on the table, away from the glass of brandy that was placed before him by a sailor.
The colonel cleared his throat. “Forelli.”
“Franco would never try. I know him, and he knows me.”
A resounding silence, like an impenetrable wall, hung heavy in the air, and it grated on Tommy’s nerves. He waited for him to say more, but his face remained stern.
“Colonel, I don’t know if you’re just–”
“It’s not Franco, Thomas,” Juan Cortez whispered, his voice a murmur that nevertheless reached Tommy’s ears with clarity.
Before Tommy, the sailor served the roasted tapir snout. It was placed upon a polished silver platter, meticulously prepared, and bore a rich, bronzed hue with a glossy. Its aroma, an enticing blend of smoky and savory notes, wafted through the air, tantalizing his senses. On the sides was a medley of exotic herbs and vibrant vegetables.
Slowly, Tommy pushed the dish away, blatantly showing his lack of appreciation. “Is that all?” he asked. “Because I really need to go–”
“Do you know where my daughter is?”
Once again, they found themselves in this situation, a reminder that the Colonel hadn’t truly moved on. Tommy couldn’t help but berate himself for ignoring his instincts, for allowing himself to become trapped on this yacht with the delusional man, reopening a chapter he’d hoped to keep buried.
“No, Colonel, I don’t,” he stated firmly, followed by a deep sigh.
As Juan Cortez moved closer, the lines etched by age became more pronounced in the fading light of the sun. His face, though seasoned by time, bore an aura of harsh authority and intimidation that demanded respect. He approached the table and pulled out a chair, settling down across from Tommy.
“She’s in Liberty City, and only God knows what she’s doing with whom…” Cortez began, his voice tinged with concern and frustration.
“Your daughter’s a grown woman.”
“Thomas, you know that I trust you, but I can’t bear to think that you’re causing pain to my Caramia–”
“Colonel, it’s been more than a year. Aren’t you letting go of this? I haven’t even spoken to Mercedes since then. I’m sure she’s doing fine!”
“I told you to keep an eye on her. You agreed–”
“While you were away! And now that you’re here, I don’t think I should still be her guardian.”
Colonel Cortez shook his head in utter dismay. “No, no, Thomas. That’s not right. My daughter’s not okay! Do you have any idea what she’s been up to?”
Vexed, Tommy closed his eyes and clenched his teeth in a futile attempt to maintain his composure. He’d been striving to maintain calmness in his conversation with Juan Cortez, given the past relationship they had. Even though the Colonel had previously issued threats directed at Reena, Tommy had been attempting to handle the situation with restraint.
But even this restraint began to unravel.
“I don’t care what the hell Mercedes has been doing, Colonel. She’s none of my business.”
The old man’s expression bore hurt and shock, his features contorting in anger. “Is this how you’re going to pay me back for all the things I’ve done for you?” Colonel Cortez’s voice thundered.
Tommy rose from his seat. As he turned away, his unease grew, like a coiled spring tightening within him, ready to snap at any provocation. The knots in his stomach seemed to constrict further, leaving him on edge.
Looking back, Tommy realized how perilous the tasks he’d undertaken in the past had been for the colonel. Juan Cortez used him for protection, hiding behind his back while he faced danger head-on for them. It was a mutual arrangement, yes, but he couldn’t help but recognize how Juan Cortez had taken advantage of his loyalty, much like Ricardo Diaz, Lance Vance, and Sonny Forelli had.
Tommy stopped in his tracks, then slowly, he looked over his shoulder, catching a glimpse of the colonel still seated on the chair. His fists were scrunched on the table, but Tommy didn’t care.
“If not for me, you would’ve been killed long ago,” Tommy muttered under his breath, his voice tinged with bitterness as he struggled to contain his rising frustration. “I’ve done much, much more for you than you ever did for me.”
Tommy wasted no time. He maneuvered his car away from the Marina, the engine’s low growl matching the beating of his heart. The vibrant lights of Vice City began to paint the streets ahead. As he accelerated, the passing cityscape became a blur of neon signs and bustling crowds, a temporary distraction from the thoughts that lingered in his mind.
As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm, golden glow over the estate, Tommy finally arrived home. Before he crossed the threshold into his sanctuary, he made a conscious effort to leave behind his encounter with Colonel Cortez. Had he not given in to the Colonel’s invitation, his life would’ve been far more peaceful, devoid of the complexities that now weighed on his shoulders.
These thoughts had no place in his home.
The new group? He could deal with that. Whoever they were, if the colonel’s words were true.
Upon learning that Reena wasn’t still home, Tommy headed straight to the nursery. As he entered, his heart softened, and a smile found its way to his lips at the sight of Cleo on the floor, busily playing with his toys.
“Hey, li’l buddy,” Tommy greeted. Cleo never failed to lift his spirits and chase away the shadows of his thoughts. It was fascinating to him how the boy’s presence could change his mood for the better, much like his mother.
Upon seeing him, Cleo’s eyes lit up with excitement. “Papa!” he exclaimed, tiny hands quivering as he made his determined effort to stand. Fingers spread wide, he maintained his balance, each step an exploration, reminiscent of a delicate sapling swaying in a gentle breeze.
Tommy crouched down, his arms reaching out to catch the boy. “You’re getting quicker, aren’t you?” he mused as he held Cleo close.
“Oh, he truly is,” Mrs. Hubbard commented, her face radiating with a heartwarming expression. “Would you like me to prepare you dinner?”
“That’d be great,” Tommy replied with appreciation. “I’ll take care of him.”
Reena’s birthday was coming up, and over the weekend, Tommy planned a special trip to the private resort he’d rented on the outskirts of Vice City. The idea of sharing an intimate moment above the towering buildings of Vice City with his wife thrilled him, and he couldn’t wait to unveil the gift he intended to give her that day.
Tommy’s heart teemed with a longing for new memories, a desire to make new experiences alongside Reena. Now that they were at the two-month mark in their relationship, with only two months remaining until their first anniversary – an event that had initially marked the end of their arrangement – he felt a deep yearning to redefine their life together. Tommy had no intention of parting ways; instead, he was determined to continue the great life they had started.
As he wondered about their future, his thoughts ventured into a distant dream – a vision where she, Cleo, and their little family were all together, brimming with happiness, and perhaps, even growing with another addition.
It might be too early to think about it, maybe Reena hadn’t even considered it, and perhaps, merely wishing for it felt like an excessive hope. Yet, he couldn’t help himself. If such a moment ever came to pass, he would embrace it wholeheartedly, even if it meant leaving behind everything he’d known.
A complete family of his own. Wouldn’t it be nice to have another bundle of joy?
His heart swelled with hope and anticipation, and he couldn’t wait to see what the future had in store for them.
Cleo’s cautious steps in the nursery turned into an exuberant sprint in the garden. Reacting swiftly, Tommy lunged toward his rapidly moving son, seizing Cleo by the crook of his arms and effortlessly hoisting him into the air. The boy erupted into playful laughter as Tommy buried his face in Cleo’s tiny stomach, blowing airy kisses that elicited delightful giggles.
When Tommy eventually lowered his arms, Cleo seemed to wriggle in his embrace, uttering a slightly garbled but unmistakable request to jump. Tommy couldn’t resist the pure joy sparkling in Cleo’s eyes. Carefully, he propelled Cleo upward, the little boy soaring about a foot into the air before descending back into Tommy’s hands. Cleo’s giggles reached a crescendo, filling the surroundings with unbridled delight.
“We can’t do that always bud, your mom’s gonna kill me,” Tommy said with a chuckle as he lifted Cleo onto his shoulders and made his way back to the patio.
The alluring scent of food being cooked in the kitchen permeated the space, a tempting aroma that tugged at Tommy’s senses. It beckoned him to return to the mansion, his mouth tickling to taste the dinner that Mrs. Hubbard promised to prepare.
Just as he turned around, his phone suddenly rang. With his free hand, Tommy fumbled for the device. His brows furrowed in confusion as he glanced at the screen, which displayed an unregistered number, a mystery that piqued his curiosity.
“Vercetti.”
“Thomas, I apologize for what happened earlier.”
Tommy’s lightheartedness turned sour so quickly when he recognized the voice of Juan Cortez. Instinctively, he tightened his hold on Cleo. “I think we’ve talked enough,” Tommy responded, his voice tinged with a hint of skepticism. Cleo, perched on his shoulder, stared at him with curious innocence, tiny fingers gently brushing against his face.
“Thomas, I just want to help you, amigo.”
There was nothing left to discuss between them. His temples throbbed with frustration, a dull pulse that he couldn’t alleviate since he was cradling his son in one arm and the phone in the other. He scanned his surroundings, searching for any sign of his mobsters, but found none – not even Marcus, which only added to his growing irritation.
“Look, Colonel, whatever this is, I don’t–”
“Please, Thomas,” the colonel retorted softly. “I want you to be careful. You might not feel them now, but they’re lingering in Vice City, just waiting for the right time.”
“You don’t need to tell me that.” Without waiting for the colonel to respond further, Tommy ended the call and slipped his phone back into his pocket.
“Is that Colonel Cortez?”
He jolted in his spot. Reena stood there, a radiant smile gracing her face as she greeted him. He turned around to face her, and she came closer, delicately tiptoeing to plant a tender kiss on his cheek. Then, she extended her arms toward Cleo. Without a moment’s hesitation, Cleo removed his hold on Tommy and eagerly rejoined his mother. He nestled his face on her shoulder. Reena planted a loving kiss on the back of Cleo’s neck, the gesture lingering for a few precious seconds before she lifted her gaze to meet Tommy’s eyes once more.
Tommy struggled to find the right words to explain himself. He didn’t want his wife to think that he’d forgiven Juan Cortez so easily, especially after all the insinuations he’d made to her. However, as he studied Reena’s expression, he couldn’t discern any trace of displeasure. Her smile left him bewildered, unsure of what emotions were truly coursing through her.
“Hey, it’s okay...” Reena said as she swayed. “I’m glad you’re talking again...”
“No, it’s not... It’s not like that,” he denied vehemently, a sense of revulsion creeping over him. Tommy couldn’t fathom her capacity for forgiveness, especially considering what the colonel had done to her. He shook his head, feeling conflicted. “He’s just telling me nonsense, nothing important.”
Reena made her way to the patio that overlooked the serene Waterview. She settled herself on the cool concrete where she often sat, and moments later, Cleo nestled onto her lap. He was quiet, engrossed in playing with the bracelet adorning his mother’s wrist.
Tommy followed her footsteps. He seated himself beside them, his gaze fixated on the Waterview as well, embracing the peace that enveloped them.
“You know, I’ve been wondering for a while,” Reena began. “Why’s he so mad at me?”
Tommy let out a sigh, his expression growing somber. “He had... fantasies,” he muttered, his lips forming a pout. “He wanted me and Mercedes to be together, even asked me to look after her when he left Vice City years ago. Of course, I did, as a friend, and, you know... what we did,” he sheepishly explained, “but nothing more.”
Reena nodded, her head still bowed as she watched Cleo tugging at her bracelet. “You must’ve done something for him to trust you that much.”
Tommy tightened his lips and dipped his chin. “Perhaps.”
“Wanna tell me?” Reena’s curiosity was evident in her gaze as she peered at him from her side.
He shrugged his shoulders. “Well, he asked me to kill one of his men, steal chips, and, huh, you won’t believe this...” He snickered, facing her. “I took a military tank for him before. That shit’s crazy.”
“Seems like you saved him work a handful of times,” she commented, her eyes reflecting curiosity.
“Why were you late?” Tommy wondered aloud, shifting closer to her. “Did something happen in the showroom?”
“There were some new customers. They were inquiring a lot,” she explained, smiling faintly. “You said the colonel asked you to look after Mercedes, right?”
Tommy, now holding Cleo on his lap after the boy insisted on getting out of his mother’s grasp, dropped Reena’s bracelet to the floor. He began to play with the wristwatch Tommy wore instead.
“Yeah, he did,” Tommy acknowledged. “I told him she could look after herself, but the naive me just agreed and did everything he said. Maybe he thought I was gonna do all that he asked. But I learned better. Took me some time, though.”
Reena stared at him with solemn eyes.
“So, that’s just it,” he concluded.
The wind blew strongly from the sea, tousling Reena’s hair as they sat in silence. Reena gazed at the horizon, the salty breeze caressing her cheeks. Tommy’s eyes were drawn to her hand, which hung by her side. In a swift and gentle movement, he reached for it, savoring the softness of her palm against his. Her fingers felt cool in his grasp, but the warmth of their connection made him feel alive.
“Are you alright?” Tommy inquired, failing to hide his concern.
She looked back at him, her expression a mix of surprise and tenderness. Then, she smiled, clasping his hands tightly in her grasp. “Yeah, I am. I just... want to take a rest.”
Tommy couldn’t shake the feeling that something was amiss, that she wanted to say something but was hesitating to start. His brows furrowed in confusion. “Hey, if there’s anything you wanna tell me–”
Cleo suddenly burst into tears, abruptly interrupting his question. Reena quickly stooped down and lifted the boy, a grunt of effort escaping her. Tommy hadn’t noticed, but his wristwatch was already on the ground, along with the bracelet Cleo had been playing with earlier. Tommy swiftly picked them up and stood, his unanswered question lingering in his mind. However, Reena looked so worried about her son that he decided to postpone his inquiry for the time being.
“I think we should get inside,” she suggested, flashing a somewhat suspicious smile. “I’m smelling dinner. I’m starving…”
“Okay,” he agreed. “You want me to carry Cleo?”
“It’s okay, I can do it.”
With a nod, Tommy surrendered, temporarily shelving his concerns. Together, they walked side by side, trudging their steps back into the mansion, but Tommy couldn’t deny the uncertainty that wrapped around his head.
Notes:
Thank you so much for reading! <3
Chapter 50: Hard to Aim
Chapter Text
THE WALL CLOCK in the nursery continued its soft, rhythmic ticking, marking the passage of time with each gentle sound. Reena sat comfortably on the couch, cradling Cleo in her arms as they both enjoyed a peaceful moment together.
She glanced at the clock. Seventeen minutes past one.
Reena called out softly to Mrs. Hubbard, who was seated on the opposite couch, engrossed in her crocheting. “I need to go now...”
Mrs. Hubbard looked up, her warm eyes meeting Reena’s. “Let me take Cleo, dear. He might need a bit more swaying.”
With gentle care, Reena transferred the sleeping boy into the old woman’s arms. She leaned forward, planting a tender kiss on her son’s soft cheek. Cleo stirred slightly but remained in his slumber. Sparing one more fond look at her son, Reena quietly exited the nursery.
As the days passed, she found it increasingly easier to entrust Cleo to others, knowing that he was growing and thriving, surrounded by love and care. Seeing her son happy and healthy brought joy to her heart, and it was the greatest thing she could’ve asked for.
Needless to say, her life with Tommy had been unexpectedly wonderful. Their time together was filled with joy and intimacy she hadn’t anticipated. Although her thoughts occasionally wandered to the past, to him, the pain had diminished considerably. With Tommy by her side, it felt as if she’d embarked on a new chapter, one with love and happiness that overshadowed the scars of her past.
But the worries she had didn’t seem to fade, and day after day, they grew stronger. Ever since the onset of her symptoms, a nagging suspicion had taken root in her mind. While she’d already taken the proactive step of scheduling a medical appointment, an unsettling question continued to gnaw at her: What if the diagnosis confirmed her fears? Would Tommy be willing to support her through it, whatever “it” might turn out to be?
Lately, Mrs. Hubbard had been dropping hints about something that Tommy was planning for her. Despite Reena’s insistence on a simple birthday celebration where she, Tommy, and Cleo could enjoy each other’s company, it seemed like her husband had something more elaborate in mind.
What if she just asked him about it?
From the corridor, she’d noticed that the door to Tommy’s office was slightly ajar. The bolt wasn’t latched, and curiosity got the better of her. Tommy had informed her that they were heading Downtown today without providing many details, only mentioning they’d leave at two.
A faint noise caught her attention as she entered the room. The unmistakable sounds of a Love Fist song playing somewhere near his desk hung in the air.
He’d only play their tunes when he wanted to tease her.
Startled, Reena yelped as she was suddenly pushed inside the office. She thought she might fall to the floor, but a sturdy arm swiftly wrapped around her waist, preventing her from tumbling. With her back arched, she turned around to see Tommy, who was smirking at her. He held her close to his body, while his other hand reached behind to fumble with the door, working to get it closed.
Her eyebrows furrowed in curiosity as she wondered what he was up to. “What are you doing?” she asked, pressing a hand against his chest. “And have you had your lunch?”
As the door clicked shut, Tommy, in a swift motion, withdrew his hand and seized her by the scruff, their lips colliding in a heated kiss. Her smile melted into a gasp of delight as he scooped her up, his hands firmly cradling her beneath the curve of her backside, and pressed her on the wall, near the desk.
The kiss raged between them, a kind of passion that threatened to consume them both. Their bodies crashed against the surface, never once surrendering to the urge to break the connection of their mouths. Tommy’s fervent lips claimed hers with a newfound intensity, setting her senses ablaze. As her fingers dug into his shoulders, she dared to explore deeper, pushing her tongue into his waiting mouth, making her both breathless and intoxicated.
With a low, seductive purr, he reluctantly tore his lips from hers, his grin sparkling with unrestrained desire. “I already had, but I’m craving for a dessert,” he whispered. “I’m having one now…”
With a sense of urgency, he guided her toward his desk. In a sweep of his hand, Tommy cleared the table’s surface of all its clutter, sending objects crashing to the floor. Tommy cursed as a glass shattered, and Reena couldn’t suppress laughter from slipping out of her.
Yet, undeterred by the mishap, he quickly returned to her. His nimble fingers undid her buttons, his touch a tantalizing promise of what was to come.
“What are you doing?” Reena asked as he peeled her jeans and underwear down.
“Just relax…”
“Are you recording this in your security camera?”
“Do you want to?” he smirked. As her legs obediently parted, Tommy’s smoldering gaze danced between her eyes and her thighs. With deliberate intent, he began to tease her, his thumb tracing sensual circles upon her clit, making her body tremble in response.
Tommy leaned closer, his heated breath mingling with hers, and he offered two of his fingers to her parted lips. Understanding what she had to do, Reena locked her gaze with his, and she drew his fingers into her mouth, causing Tommy’s breath to flare, his teeth clenching as he fought to maintain control.
He withdrew his fingers from her lips, a wet, popping sound resonating in the air as they parted from her mouth. Lowering his hand with a wicked glint in his eyes, his fingers traced a tormenting path from her clit down to her center. Each delicate, taunting touch urged Reena to moan, her eyes rolling back in ecstasy as she bit her lip, overwhelmed by the mounting sensations.
Inch by inch, his finger delved deeper, making her breaths grow more erratic. His strokes became hard, long, and playfully assertive. Reena’s mind swirled in bliss, her thoughts overtaken by Tommy’s intoxicating touch.
With a slow, deliberate pace, he introduced another finger, stretching her further and intensifying the sensations coursing through her. Simultaneously, his thumb continued its motion over her sensitive bundle of nerves, coaxing waves of pleasure that threatened to consume her. His fingers moved with increased urgency, a relentless rhythm of in and out that left Reena gasping and teetering on the precipice.
“Fuck, you’re so wet…” he growled.
Reena reclined, her body responding to Tommy’s hand with rocking hips that synchronized with the rhythm of his fingers. She could feel the tension building within her, her insides tightening in anticipation. Just as she was reaching her peak, Tommy withdrew his hand, leaving her breathless and undone, craving for more.
With a sensual flourish, he brought his glistening fingers to his lips, his tongue lapping and sucking on them, savoring her essence. Tommy’s lustful gaze bore into her, his eyes smoldering with a raw, primal hunger that ignited her passion even further. Then, in an instant, he buried his face between her thighs, his tongue and lips exploring her core, sending waves of ecstasy crashing over her in a cascade of pleasure.
She couldn’t help but curve on the wooden table. Desperate for something to hold onto, her hands found their way to Tommy’s head, fingers gripping his hair with a fervent intensity. Reena couldn’t care less about who might hear her. She was lost in the throes of passion, her desires laid bare for the world to see, and she was absolutely certain that Tommy shared her disregard for any potential audience.
“Oh, Tommy…”
He held both of her legs high, his tongue flicking with precision in the heart of her folds while gently tugging at her clit. Reena’s groans grew louder as he skillfully thrust his tongue into her, causing her to squirm and writhe without a control. His hands, meanwhile, ventured upward, fingers playfully brushing over the fabric that concealed her hardened nipples.
Reena’s gasps transformed into ecstatic wails as she reached the edge. Tommy locked her thighs between his arms, pressing her mound firmly against his devouring mouth. His tongue worked with increased fervor, rapidly licking and sucking, driving her to the brink of madness as the scorching heat radiated through her loins.
She moaned and groaned helplessly. A torture… she enjoyed it.
Desperate to escape the overwhelming sensations, she attempted to pull herself away, but Tommy refused to release her until she surrendered, collapsing weakly onto the table, her body quivering and convulsing on the table.
Tommy kissed his way up her inner thighs, tracing a path to her knees. Then, he raised his head, his pants quickly unzipped, revealing his readiness, his cock standing tall and hard.
“You fuckin’ taste so good, you know?” he murmured, his fingers slick and glistening as he sensuously rubbed them against the tip of his throbbing cock.
Deliberately, Tommy brushed the tip of his length along the line of her split, then he began to press himself into her. She was still recovering from her previous climax, her thighs trembling and hands barely gripping, but she readied herself once more.
Fingers digging into the jut of her hipbone, Tommy thrust into her with a force that caused the entire table to shake and creak. He reached for her shirt, hoisting it up and yanking her bra beneath the swell of her breasts. The smacking of their heated flesh made loud, damp sounds, their bodies colliding ferociously in a symphony of desire.
“Fuck, you’re making me come…”
As Tommy’s growl increasingly grew loud, Reena summoned her last reserves of strength and clung to his neck, locking eyes with him. She pulled herself up, her body pressed tightly against his. Tommy lifted her effortlessly from the desk, hooking his arms beneath the crook of her knees.
Their bodies collided with urgency, their rhythms aligned as they ascended toward their peaks together, their gratified hums filling the office. Tommy grunted with fervor as he released, his movements growing more vigorous, while Reena whimpered powerlessly, surrendering to the intense pleasure that washed over her, melting in his strong embrace.
Time seemed to slow. Tommy gently laid her back on the desk. He leaned down to savor the taste of her breast, but Reena seized his face, lifting his chin to meet her eager lips. In swift, passionate kisses, she showered him with affection, feeling his cheeks, nose, and forehead against her lips.
His laughter rumbled against Reena’s neck as he caught his breath. “Did you like it?” he asked, a playful tone in his voice.
She nodded with a mischievous grin, rubbing her nose against the top of his head. “You broke the glass,” she taunted.
Reena found herself in a moment of bliss, tired yet fulfilled, sitting on the desk as Tommy’s essence leaked out of her intimate area. She exchanged glances laden with playfulness and satisfaction with Tommy as he zipped back his pants. Tommy peered at her with a devious smile on his face.
“Let’s clean you up first?” he said, cupping her cheek, his touch sending a shiver down her spine. Tommy drew a tissue paper roll from the desk’s drawer and carefully wiped away any traces of their passionate encounter.
Her heart raced with excitement and trepidation, wondering how he’d react if she asked him the question.
As he finished cleaning her up, he leaned in and planted a quick, wet kiss on her lips. Reena’s cheeks flushed, reminiscing the tenderness of his cusps. She wanted more, but she held her tongue and kept the desire to herself.
“Tommy, I wanna ask you something…”
He picked up her underwear and trousers on the floor, approaching her with a faint smile. “What is it?”
Reena bit her lip. She found herself hesitating, but Tommy’s gaze was surely accepting, encouraging her to speak her mind.
When she opened her mouth, however, a phone suddenly buzzed, blaring a deafening ringing tone that broke the thick air between them. Tommy fumbled for his pockets and drew out his phone, answering the device right in front of her.
“Hey, we’re on our way.” He scratched his head and nodded, chuckling a bit as he cast her a silly glance. “Yeah, we just need to do something. We’ll be there.” Tommy hung up and inserted his phone into his pocket, turning his focus back on her once more. “What is it, sweetheart?”
She thought she could say it now, but Reena found herself shaking her head. “It’s not important. Let’s just talk about it next time.” She swiftly put on her underwear and slid her legs into the trousers. Tommy offered a helping hand, ensuring she landed safely on the floor.
Though spent after the journey they embarked on unexpectedly, Reena couldn’t shake her worry away. After saying goodbye to Cleo and giving Mrs. Hubbard a few instructions, they hopped into the car, and Tommy drove out of the estate, turning left to Vice City Mainland.
Upon reaching Bayshore Avenue, Reena glanced out of the car window, her mind clouded with a lot of thoughts. The passing scenery was a blur as her fingers absently played with the edge of her seatbelt.
“Do you know where we’re going?” he asked. His right hand let go of the steering wheel, and he put it on her lap.
“No. Are you still gonna surprise me?”
A joyful smile laced Tommy’s lips, proof of his exhilaration. “We’re going to my friend, Phil Cassidy. He owns Ammu-Nation, and he was 8-Ball’s boss.”
“Really?” Reena asked, surprised as she could ever be.
“Yes… and friend,” he continued, his head bobbing up and down. “Do you know his shop in Torrington?”
Reena perched up on her seat. “I remember the Ammu-Nation there! That’s where we got first when–” she paused. She dipped her chin to her chest, and though she didn’t continue what she was saying, she knew that Tommy noticed her sudden change. Fearing that he’d probed further, Reena pushed out a smile and shook her head. “I-I got there first when I arrived at Staunton Island.”
Before a wide vacant lot stood the weaponry’s mighty façade, boasting several guns and other weapons on display. Posters and slogans that shouted discounts and freebies were plastered on the transparent walls, filling the whole structure with advertisements.
Tommy harbored the car near the entrance. He reached for her hand, making her flinch a bit. Reena beamed, then she began to remove her seatbelt. Tommy walked around the front of the vehicle and scooted to open the door of the passenger seat, taking her hand as she stepped out.
“I’m excited for you to meet him…” Tommy said, the grin on his face unfading.
The door to the shop slid open. They entered, the attendant greeting them with a salute. Tommy waved back, while Reena pressed her lips into a tight smile.
Approaching the back of the store, the boisterous noise started to grow, prompting Reena to put her fingers into her ears. Tommy touched the small of her back as they walked through the line. A couple of men were stationed in separate cubicles, firing at the moving figures made of yellow Styrofoam shaped into human torsos.
Tommy leaned close to her ear. “In the second area, there were life-size human posters that appeared everywhere in a miniature building, peering through doors and windows.” He pointed a finger at the far end. “The third area was at the back of the property. For long-range practice!” Toward the end, he was almost screaming, his voice drowned by the non-stop blasting.
“It was big!” she yelled back, but her voice was quickly overpowered.
At the end of the first section, Reena saw a burly man with a bird nest-shaped blonde and gray hair brushed upon his head. He was gripping a slightly massive handgun, firing at the moving objects while guffawing and cursing vulgar words. His voice thundered even louder than the blasts.
“Hah! You motherfucker!” he hollered, turned slightly to the right, and shot at the farthest target. “Bastard you freaking bitch ass crack!” He waved to the left and sniped the incoming aim.
“Phil!” Tommy called out.
In an instant, the man stopped his shooting extravaganza and looked over his shoulder, twirling the pistol around his trigger finger. With a smash of his hand on the wall, the movements of the busts stopped, and the loud noises halted all at once.
“Tommy!” the man cried as he approached, still with the gun in his hand. “Are you gonna ask me now to be your wife now?”
They firmly embraced each other, tapping twice on their backs. As soon as they let go of each other, the man snickered and looked at Reena.
“Is this the lovely lady that took my place?” Phil stuck out his hand, and Tommy swiftly took the pistol away before she reached out.
“It’s Reena, Mr. Cassidy. It’s nice meeting you...”
“Too courteous!” Phil exclaimed as he snagged back the gun from Tommy. “So, whaddya wanna do?!”
Tommy picked up a pistol on the counter, pulled the slide back, and shot the farthest figure in the station, bull’s eye. “We’d like to use your firing range for practice.”
Phil Cassidy’s laughter roared, catching the attention even of the two men far from them. “Yeah! You still haven’t rusted, have you?!” Phil exclaimed as he placed his gun on the counter. “You wanna try some new guns?”
“No, actually…” Tommy paused and wrapped an arm around her waist. “I wanna teach her.”
“Me?” Reena cried out in shock, pressing a hand over her chest.
“Yeah. I want you to learn how to use this.” Tommy showed her the pistol in his hand.
“But why?”
“It’s cool,” Tommy said as he approached and cupped her cheek. “Besides, I want you to know how to use a gun yourself… for protection.”
Reena looked nervously at the weapons, at the shooting range, at Phil Cassidy who stared back at her with a toothpick in his mouth, and at Tommy. After a few seconds of quiet hesitation, she let out a heavy breath and nodded. “Okay, I’ll try.”
“There we go!” Phil yelped eagerly as he went to the counter and grabbed some equipment for them. From the storage, he took gears for ear and eye protection as well as thick, tactical gloves.
“Come here…” Tommy ushered her to stand in front of him. He helped her put them on, tucking her hair behind her ears as he slid the gear over her eyes and ears. “You look like a hot techno-chick.”
“Didn’t know you got that soft spot, Tommy,” Phil commented from behind, peering over Tommy’s shoulder. “The last time I heard, you were stabbing a woman with a knife, not with your dick!”
“Watch your words, Phil…” he jokingly half-warned as Reena chuckled.
Tommy stood behind her and positioned her arms, head, and legs properly, teaching her how to hold a gun.
“You gotta stand like this for balance.” He pushed one of her legs forward, his hand dragging down between her thighs.
Reena twitched and grinned at him naughtily. “Trying to ease my tension?”
“Yeah, easing your tension,” he whispered in her ear. “Now, right’s your dominant hand? Grip the gun high in the back strap…” he said, moving her fingers toward the right position. “Put your pointing finger here…” He slid her index finger to the side of the gun, outside the trigger guard. “Then, wrap your three fingers here…” He bound her fingers around the grip.
“Do I really need to do this?”
“Of course you–”
Her finger seemed to curl so tightly on the trigger, blasting the gun toward the objects before her. In a panic, her finger stiffened on the trigger while her grip was slowly loosening, the force of the shot impacting her balance and stance.
“God! Reena, stop!” Tommy said as he reached for her hand. He burst into a peal of laughter, amused by her shooting everything.
“I’m sorry, I thought I had to shoot immediately…” she muttered, her voice breaking into a cry.
“Sweetheart, there’s no one there to hurt you. We’re just practicing. Remember, your bullets are also important. In a handgun like this, you have limited shots.”
“Okay…” She puffed another anxious breath, trying once again the stance that he taught her.
The figures started moving, and though her heart was pounding in her chest and her arms were quivering, she was more focused this time. She didn’t hit the targets precisely, but she’d taken some figures, mostly the ones closer to her spot. After a minute, the figures stopped moving, and Reena slowly lowered her hand.
Tommy nodded, pressing his lips on her cheek. “Better this time. Wanna try again?”
“I’d bet a little more practice could make her shoot a fly in your head without harming you, Tommy!”
“Shut up, Phil!” Tommy retorted as he chuckled, helping Reena position herself once again.
“I think I’ve run out of bullets…”
“Alright. Press the magazine release right here.” He rotated the gun to the left, showing her the button to push. “You can use your thumb to press that. Try.”
She did as he said, and the magazine instantly dropped onto the floor. She bent to pick it up, but Tommy pulled her up again, stopping her midway and holding her hips while pressing himself onto her ass playfully.
“No, sweetheart, you don’t have to pick it up anymore. In urgent situations, an empty magazine is already dead. You ain’t gonna need that…”
“Urgent situations?”
“Yeah. We’ll never know. Now, take that.” He pointed at a fully loaded magazine on the counter. “You should always have one in your pocket from now on.”
Reena reached for it and inserted it into the gun. “How do I lock it in?”
“Use your palm and press it firmly.”
She had to push twice before it finally got seated. “Then?”
Tommy put her left hand on the slide. “Take the rear of the slide with an overhand grip.” He guided Reena’s hands by clasping his palm around her bent knuckles. “Hold it tightly and push forward your right hand.”
Reena did so as he said until the gun clicked. “Like this?”
“Yes. Release your overhand grip…”
She let go of the slide and the chamber snapped on.
“Well done…” Tommy lauded her. “Hold it back up again just like how I taught you earlier.”
“My hands are sweaty now…”
“So are mine…” he said as he smacked her bum, making her jerk and laugh.
The figures began moving again, and Reena held her shoulders more firmly, trying to shoot as many targets as possible. She was able to hit at least three of the near targets, and one, though just luckily, farthest.
Tommy exclaimed with pride, turning her around and kissing her on the lips. “You’re doing great, sweetheart.”
She breathed a sigh of relief. She was not a hundred percent comfortable doing it, but Reena felt rather pleased to have appeased Tommy with her trials.
Phil approached them with a big grin. “Your man here beat me up years ago in this very shooting range. I’m still waiting for his marriage proposal.” He spat the chewed toothpick on the ground. “Well, Tommy, are you gonna try the other sections?”
“Nah, maybe next time, Phil. Don’t want my wife’s arms getting stiff and sore.”
“Alright! Just hit me up when you’d be going again!”
With a pat on his arm, Tommy bid him goodbye. “Cool. See you around.”
Tommy helped Reena take off the gears and lay the weapon on the counter. She waved at Phil, who greeted her back with a salute. As they exited Ammu-Nation, Tommy put his arms on her shoulders, pulling her closer and walking proudly as they crossed the threshold.
“See? It’s not bad at all!”
Reena looked up at him with a faint smile. Upon reaching their car, Tommy opened the door for her and let her in. He walked around the hood toward the driver’s seat when suddenly, he stopped midway. Reena saw him draw his phone, casting her a glance, seemingly forcing a smile. Instead of getting in, he walked toward the trunk, and all Reena could do was watch him through the rearview mirror.
He looked eager. His back was turned on her, but Reena caught him nodding vigorously, his features enthusiastic. He stayed there just for almost a minute, then he put the phone down. Reena tugged her gaze back to the windshield, pretending that she wasn’t observing him the entire time.
Tommy walked back to the car and entered the driver’s seat.
“Business matters?” she asked, trying to curb the tension.
“Yeah, sorry. It’s urgent,” he replied almost instantly, beaming as if nothing was bugging him.
As the engine roared, Reena traced the contours of her belly. “What if… we go on a dinner date on Friday?”
Pausing, Tommy gazed at her with a skeptical smile. “Alright... Does this have anything to do with what you wanna ask me earlier?”
Her heart skipped a beat. “Yes, it is…”
As they drove out of the Ammu-Nation, the silence between them seemed to stretch. Reena knew that she couldn’t keep it from him forever, but for now, she was left grappling with herself, uncertain of how their journey would unfold.
Take the Shot. Art by a-shipping-life (Tumblr, Twitter, and Instagram).
Notes:
This is in reference to The Shootist (GTA Vice City).
Thank you so much for reading! <3
Chapter 51: Newcomers
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
TOMMY PARKED ABOUT a quarter mile away from the upscale neighborhood, the sun hanging high in the sky, casting a brilliant light over the area. From where he was harbored, he could bask in the tip of the imposing scaffold, a colossal structure that seemed to touch the heavens. It soared amid the surrounding buildings, a steel behemoth that stretched toward the horizon.
It was a formidable sight to behold, composed of twenty-six towering levels, each one meticulously connected to the next. Safety nets of steel and mesh, like complicated spiderwebs, wrapped around the framework. Massive metal rods and sturdy frames reinforced its form, adding to its undeniably mighty presence.
He estimated that it would only take a few more months to be completed, rising tall beside the canal that led to Ocean Beach. What a shame, he thought, that the scaffold wouldn’t see the light of the day anymore.
An old friend he was set to meet today had a simple request: the building had to disappear. Tommy didn’t pry for further details; he cared little about the reasons. Instead, he focused on the task at hand, preparing to launch the RC Goblin for its flight from the Top Fun van, the structure’s final hours ticking away in the distance.
While Marcus roamed around and examined the area, Tommy kept a close eye on the construction. Once he’d determined the right moment, he swiftly made his way to the site.
It had been so long since he used a remote-controlled device, and Tommy had struggled first to get in the groove before he was able to seamlessly maneuver the RC Goblin. Besides, it was more advanced now than it was before. The sleek, compact frame was painted with dark colors, its surface adorned with matte black and stealthy gray, making it inconspicuous. Its rotor blades, sharp and menacing, spun with precision, ready to cut through anything in their path. The tiny camera mounted beneath its belly was perfect for its covert purpose, capturing images of its surroundings with clarity.
Tommy had planted three bombs within the upper levels, using the RC Goblin’s blades to cut through the safety nets. The surveillance camera feed from the device confirmed that no one was present inside the structure, at least on the floors the device entered, making it relatively uncomplicated to position the three explosives near the foundations.
It was ironic how the last act often proved to be the most challenging.
Tommy struggled to set the final detonator in place, his heart racing with anticipation. Unlike the other floors he invaded, this one had security guards who’d been relentless in their pursuit, firing shots at the toy helicopter, forcing Tommy to make a maneuver and ascend higher, out of their reach. The RC plane’s rotor blades scraped against the ceiling, making its flight awkward and hazardous. Tommy knew that if the aircraft was destroyed, he’d be unable to trigger the explosives.
Determined, Tommy pushed the throttle, angling the RC plane forward. It surged, creating distance between it and the security guards who were struggling to keep up. The blades struck one of the guards in the arm, causing blood to spurt from the wound to the ground. Tommy winced at the sight, but he couldn’t help but think that if they’d just left the RC Goblin alone, no one would be hurt.
“Come on, just get the fuck outta there…” he murmured.
As the remaining security guards rushed to assist their injured friend, Tommy deftly guided the RC Goblin toward one of the scaffold’s foundations.
Breathing a sigh of relief, Tommy pressed the button, released the controls, and leaned back in his seat. Approximately four people scampered out of the building, two of them supporting each other with linked arms.
In a matter of seconds, a thunderous explosion reverberated through the surroundings, sending shockwaves of sound and force across the area. The entire scaffold disintegrated into destruction as every planted bomb erupted in unison. The cacophonous blast jolted everywhere, causing nearby traffic to screech to an abrupt halt.
A crowd of curious onlookers emerged from their vehicles, their faces etched with horror, drawn by the shock of the explosion. The once towering structure surrendered to gravity’s relentless pull, tumbling with an earth-shaking roar, sending a shower of debris hurtling into the canal below. The collapsing steel and concrete mingled with the gasps and exclamations of some alarmed witnesses, some amazed.
As if he were an innocent bystander, completely detached from the devastation that he himself caused, Tommy stepped out of the Top Fun van and casually checked his wristwatch. After ensuring the van was secure, he strode purposefully toward his waiting car, swiftly slipping into the driver’s seat. With the engine revving to life, he skillfully navigated his way back to the estate, arriving just in the nick of time for a rendezvous with an old friend.
Tommy couldn’t deny that in his younger years, ascending flights of stairs had been a breeze, but now, he was almost certain his lungs were staging a rebellion, threatening to tear themselves away from his body. With each heavy step, he forced his way onto the roof deck, where he discovered Marcus already waiting, casting an amused glance back at him as Tommy desperately gasped for air.
“What are you lookin’ at?” Tommy demanded, his sharp gaze fixed firmly on his henchman.
Marcus shook his head, but the suppressed snicker in his mouth hinted at his amusement. “Nothing, Boss.”
With a wry smile, Tommy closed the distance between them and shrugged off the discomfort. “I ain’t an old man yet,” he groaned.
In the distance, Tommy’s sharp eyes caught sight of the Maverick gracefully gliding through the air. As it came close, an grin spread across his face. The man inside the aircraft waved toward him, holding out his cowboy hat in the air like a child.
The Maverick touched down gracefully on the estate’s helipad, its rotor blades slicing through the air with a deafening roar, drowning out any other sounds. It was a magnificent sight to behold, a shiny aircraft that exuded power and prestige. Its polished exterior gleamed in the sunlight, reflecting the world around it. With a fuselage of glistening metal and windows that shimmered like diamonds, it embodied both elegance and strength.
Gradually, the whirling rotor blades began to decelerate, and the once-overpowering engine noise gradually subsided. The man from the chopper swung open the door and descended, a hint of excitement evident in the way he lightly leaped down from the elevated cockpit.
“Tommy!” Avery Carrington exclaimed with arms outstretched as he approached Tommy on the lower deck. His mustache, though now snow-white, retained its thickness, and his well-worn leather cowboy hat gleamed in the daylight as if it had just been meticulously polished. Time had clearly etched its mark on him, evident in the measured effort it took him to descend the three small stairs. Yet, the grin on his face remained unaltered.
Like the old times, Tommy enveloped him in a firm, warm hug, patting the man’s back as gently as possible. Unlike the solid backslaps he’d received from Phil Cassidy, Avery’s tap on his back remained feeble, mirroring the way he used to do it back when Tommy worked for him.
“How’s your trip?” Tommy inquired, his gaze momentarily shifting over Avery’s shoulder, captivated by the imposing chopper. “Is this the craft I’m purchasing?”
Avery turned to the Maverick. “Ah, that majestic bastard. I’m sure he’s worth every cent of your payment.”
Walking alongside Avery, Tommy reentered the mansion, leaving Marcus behind with the pilot on the helipad to conduct a final check of the aircraft. He’d meticulously timed the arrival to coincide when Reena would likely be away and occupied in the showroom, unaware of his new acquisition. Mrs. Hubbard had received strict instructions not to reveal any details to her.
Once they stepped into his office, Tommy swiftly closed the double doors, securing their privacy. With a wave of his hand, he invited Avery to take a seat on the plush couch. Avery, in turn, doffed his well-worn cowboy hat, carefully setting it on the sofa’s armrest. He crossed his legs, leaning into the supple leather seat, casually draping an arm over the backrest.
“We haven’t seen each other for some time, my friend,” Avery said as he scanned the office. “You’ve maintained the estate pretty well!”
“It was just recently when I started taking care of it, but yes,” Tommy responded as he reached for two snifters and a bottle of cognac from the nearby shelf. He swiftly returned to the couch, setting the glasses on the table. With a deft hand, he uncorked the bottle and poured them each a drink. “How’s retirement treating you?”
Avery accepted the snifter that Tommy handed him and chuckled before taking a sip. His face displayed a slight grimace, but he continued to drink as if it were a mere glass of water.
“Doing pretty well, actually. I got a new girlfriend!”
Tommy couldn’t suppress a chortle as he swirled his glass. He reached for the bottle and poured Avery another round. “That’s pretty impressive,” he remarked.
“You damn well know I still got it,” Avery boasted, his voice filled with confidence, as he took a sip and gently placed the snifter on the table. “That dark cloud of smoke in the distance, is that it?” he asked, curiosity and excitement gleaming in his eyes.
With a wry smile, Tommy briefly raised his snifter, as if proposing a toast, confirming Avery’s question without uttering a word.
“Hah! Where can I get more guys like you?!” Avery’s laughter filled the office. “That construction’s been getting on my nerves for some time. Didn’t know you’re the only one I’d need…”
“There might be a few casualties,” Tommy calmly explained.
Avery’s expression turned somewhat stern, his fingers briefly tracing the strands of his mustache, a familiar gesture that Tommy recognized all too well. “I was planning to purchase that land,” Avery began, his tone carrying a hint of frustration. “But when I came to bid, somebody beat me to it…”
Tommy’s curiosity was piqued, and he squinted as he studied Avery, trying to uncover the full story. “That piece of land,” he repeated, sensing there was more to this tale than met the eye. “I noticed it was just a block away from a friend’s spot, the Casino Royale…”
Avery’s eyes lit up in an instant, confirming Tommy’s hunch. He could tell he’d struck a chord. “Exactly,” Avery mused, playfully pointing a finger at Tommy. “I heard it was destined to be a casino, or perhaps a hotel with a casino. The owner remains a mystery; they won’t divulge any information.”
A competitor? Tommy wondered. “Should we be concerned?” he interjected with a knowing smile.
“No… Why should we? After all, you’re Tommy Vercetti.”
Tommy waved a hand dismissively. “It was a simple task, nothing I couldn’t handle,” he said. “Though,” he added with a sly smile, “a discount on the Maverick would be enough of a gratitude, don’t you think?”
Avery grinned and shook his head. “If you weren’t my friend, I would’ve refused you,” he commented, then reached for the bottle and emptied the remaining cognac in his snifter. “But because you’re Tommy Vercetti, I can give you five percent off...”
Tommy propped forward, negotiating. “Ten,” he vouched. “I dealt with a massive eyesore for you.”
Avery chuckled. “Deal,” he declared, flashing Tommy a sly smile. “Why are you buying the Maverick for, if I may ask?”
In a swift and confident motion, Tommy grabbed the snifter from Avery’s hand and drained its contents into his mouth. “My wife’s birthday is coming up, and I want to give her something special…”
“Ah, yes, romance…” Avery mused, his fingers gently caressing his mustache, a mischievous spark glinting in his eyes. “Mercedes Cortez?”
Tommy responded with a subtle smile, his demeanor growing more solemn. “No, Avery. Not Mercedes.”
“So, who’s the lucky lady?” Avery prodded, his curiosity piqued.
“Serena Lane… well, Vercetti,” Tommy revealed with pride as he raised his glass to his lips for another sip of the drink.
“Is she here?” Avery pressed on, his gaze filled with a mix of curiosity and anticipation. “I imagine she must be quite a sight.”
“No need to imagine,” Tommy quipped, pointing toward his desk. “I have a picture of us, along with our son.”
Avery Carrington’s eyes widened in sheer excitement as he abruptly rose from his seat and hurried to the table. His steps were eager, and his curiosity palpable. Tommy grabbed the bottle and poured himself another drink, the amber liquid flowing smoothly into his snifter, all the while anticipating Avery’s reaction. As the snifter’s mouth touched his lips, Tommy couldn’t help but steal a glance at his old friend. He watched as Avery’s eyes grew large and his jaw dropped in astonishment.
“Damn, Tommy, where on earth did you find this woman?”
“A very rare gem, Avery. Very rare,” Tommy replied.
Avery tapped his fingers rhythmically on the desk, a playful smile curling at the corners of his lips. He then returned to the couch, his demeanor indicating his pleasure, which in turn amused Tommy.
“Is there any chance I could meet the lovely wife in person?” Avery inquired, his curiosity and anticipation evident in his tone.
“She’ll be home by afternoon,” Tommy answered.
“Your boy looks a lot like her... but not quite. Kind of reminds me of the guy who worked for me before. The one I introduced to you. What’s his name again?”
A rush of emotions surged within Tommy. A hard, instant lump formed in his throat, a knot of feelings that he hadn’t expected. It had been many years, but the fact that Avery still remembered Claude struck Tommy with an unexpected wave of trepidation.
Clearing his throat, which felt as if it had been scraped raw by the drink he’d just swallowed, Tommy struggled to regain his composure. He forced down another dry gulp, concealing the brief moment of surprise that had momentarily overwhelmed him.
“Claude Speed,” he replied, his voice a soft murmur.
Avery absentmindedly caressed his mustache as his head bobbed up and down in contemplation. “Yeah, that guy,” he said with a nod. “Claude Speed. Tough like you.”
His name was like a festering wound. He’d been a thorn in his side, a rogue element that could threaten to unravel everything Tommy had built, and now, he was an unwelcome shadow, casting doubt over his and his wife’s newfound happiness.
“Would you like to see my boy?” Tommy inquired, steering the conversation away from delving deeper into the past.
“Oh, absolutely!” Avery’s enthusiasm was palpable as he sprang from his seat, swiftly abandoning their previous topic. “Gotta catch a glimpse of your little creation…”
As they exited the office, Tommy made sure to bury the past he had not anticipated resurfacing…
Notes:
This is in reference to Demolition Man (GTA Vice City).
Thank you so much for reading <3
Chapter 52: Things to Tell
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
THE STERILE, WHITE hospital walls seemed to pulse with an unending rhythm as Reena sat in subdued silence on the bench just outside the doctor’s office. She’d left Sunshine Autos early, arranging for Leigh to drive her to Ocean Beach for her appointment. He stood nearby, not too far from her, his gaze fixed on the hallway, observing the steady stream of people passing by.
Reena couldn’t help but wonder about what Leigh was thinking of. However, as a sudden wave of queasiness washed over her, she was forced to shift her attention. Instinctively, she brought a hand to her mouth, desperately trying to stifle the discomfort that threatened to engulf her. With urgency, she scooted toward the restroom, just down the hall beside the doctor’s office, her body aching for relief from the nausea.
Two months had rushed past, leaving Reena feeling as though time had slipped through her fingers. It was hard to fathom how swiftly everything had happened. Only this morning, she’d decided to take the test, and now she found herself grappling with the results.
It caught her off guard, leaving her in a state of uncertainty and doubt. Everything felt too abrupt, too sudden to fully comprehend. Part of her desperately clung to the hope that it might be a mistake, somehow unwilling to believe the reality.
A gnawing doubt, a persistent shadow in her thoughts. Excitement along with fear, and hope waltzed with worry.
The timing felt so unexpected, so utterly unplanned.
Reena raised a trembling hand to her forehead, her fingers feeling the beads of cold sweat that had formed near her hairline. She ran her fingers through her hair, trying to regain composure. She turned to the mirror, her gaze locked onto her own reflection.
What if the doctor confirmed it? Would she be ready? Would Tommy be ready?
Two more months, a countdown to the moment when she and Tommy would have to make decisions about the course of their lives. And now…
Resigned to the idea that there was no use in delaying the inevitable truth, Reena exited the restroom and made her way back to the bench. Leigh, who’d been watching her closely, gestured a worried thumbs-up, asking wordlessly if she were okay. Grateful for his concern, Reena mustered a weak smile and nodded in acknowledgment.
As she settled back onto the bench, her gaze drifted toward the posters adorning the wall in front of her. She stared at them, her thoughts racing, as she braced herself to face the uncertain future that lay ahead.
It had been quite some time since Reena had found herself in a hospital for such matters, and the exact details had become a distant memory. The contrast between Angel Pine’s small hospital and this one couldn’t be more striking. It was quite modest in Angel Pine, featuring only a couple of black, steel chairs situated outside the doctor’s office and fading posters of pregnant women on the wall – posters whose text had been faded by time.
In contrast, the hospital she now sat in exuded an air of elegance. Long benches lined the hallway, spacious enough to comfortably accommodate at least ten patients. Colorful posters and informative signages were plastered the walls, creating a vibrant atmosphere. Adjacent to an indoor plant, there stood a magazine and brochure rack, among other amenities.
How her life had changed.
The door to the doctor’s office swung open, and a cheerful-looking woman peered out from the gap. “Mrs. Vercetti?” she inquired with a warm smile, her voice friendly.
Reena rose from her seat, her hands instinctively tucking her hair behind her ears. She pressed her lips together as she walked toward the open door. The bubbly lady inside the office extended a welcoming gesture, inviting her to step in.
However, as soon as she crossed the threshold, the overpowering scent of peonies wafted through the air, assaulting her senses. A wave of nausea washed over her once more, and she hastily brought both hands to her mouth. Without a waring, she darted back outside and made a frantic beeline for the restroom.
Reena leaned over the sink, her body heaving as she emptied her stomach. Her trembling hands pressed against the cool marble rim for support, her entire being consumed by the sudden bout of sickness.
Heavy footsteps halted by the bathroom door, and when she glanced up, she saw Leigh peering inside, concerned.
“Miss, you okay?!”
Her grip on the edge was so tight that the cool porcelain sent shivers through her fingers. Her gorge pulsed, and a surge of bile shot up to her mouth once more, forcing her to lean lower in a desperate attempt to ward off the impending nausea. The harsh, unforgiving fluorescent light overhead seemed to intensify her discomfort, her eyes squinting against the glow.
Despite the constant flow of water from the faucet, the sound felt distant and muffled, drowned out by the turmoil raging within her. Leigh went in and gently rubbed her back, offering a comforting gesture, but it provided little respite from the relentless churning in her stomach.
“Shit, you must be sick! Should I call Boss?”
“N-No, not yet, Leigh,” she pleaded, her voice still shaky. She caught the stream of water and splashed it on her face in an attempt to revive herself. “I need to get back... to the office.”
“Doc’s outside, miss,” Leigh informed her. He took it upon himself to turn the faucet off and handed her a paper towel, which she gratefully accepted and used to wipe her damp face. “Are you sure?”
“Yeah, I’m sure,” she responded quickly and crumpled the paper towel that she tossed into the bin, “Thanks, Leigh.” She reassuringly patted his forearm, then moved past him with waning legs.
She found the bubbly lady waiting by the doorway. Reena strolled back into the doctor’s office, this time taking precautions by holding a handkerchief over her nose to avoid any trace of the peony scent.
The bubbly lady, who turned out to be the doctor, entered the room and closed the door behind her. She moved to the window, opening it wide to let in the fresh air. As the breeze circulated, Reena gradually relaxed her grip on her handkerchief, no longer pressing it tightly to her nose, and allowed herself to breathe freely once more as the overpowering scent dissipated.
With a friendly smile, the doctor returned to her chair behind the desk and leaned forward, drawing closer to Reena. “I’m sorry if the scent was bothersome,” the doctor said apologetically. “It’s quite common for some patients to be sensitive to it. Now, have you taken the test?”
Reena nodded. “Yes, it’s... It’s positive.”
“Do you have it with you?”
Reena retrieved the object from her pouch, carefully wrapped in tissue paper, and presented it to the doctor. The unmistakable two lines on the test was evident, and the doctor took a moment to examine it before nodding in acknowledgment. She then picked up a clipboard and proceeded to read through the information, double-checking that all the details Reena had provided in the form were accurate.
“Is this your first time getting pregnant, Mrs. Vercetti?” the doctor inquired.
Reena shook her head. “No, it’s not.”
“How long has it been?”
Her head lowered. “My son’s fifteen months old.”
“We’ll get you a lab test, but today I think we could check on your little one,” the doctor suggested.
The lingering scent that had triggered her earlier discomfort had thankfully dissipated, but Reena’s stomach still twisted, now even more intensely than before. Desperately, she swallowed hard. Nervousness washed over her in waves, and a rush of worries flashed through her mind. When she was pregnant with Cleo, she’d been all alone in Angel Pine, trembling before the doctor during her examinations. Today, she had Leigh by her side, but the same anxiety still gripped her, a sense of uncertainty that she couldn’t shake.
Tommy had undoubtedly proven himself to be a great father to Cleo, there was no denying that. However, Reena couldn’t help but wonder if he was ready to have another child, let alone if it was ever his plan to have one. Cleo was still growing, and the fact that she and Tommy had not even discussed the possibility of having a child of their own weighed heavily on her mind. He was supposed to be a free man, unburdened by commitments and responsibilities. Yet, here she was, carrying his child, and the fear of rejection ate her up from the inside, tormenting her with thoughts that Tommy might be disappointed.
It was inevitable. She had to tell him that they were expecting, and they had to decide what to do with it… together.
The doctor motioned for Reena to follow her, and they entered another room. She instructed Reena to wait, and in the room, Reena noticed a machine, a tool that resembled a rod, and an elevated bed. Another woman joined them, introduced by the doctor as a sonographer. After a while, the doctor instructed her to lie down on the bed, lift her shirt, and lower her pants a bit. The sonographer squeezed an ample amount of gel on her belly.
Reena’s breathing was heavy as she settled onto the cushion. She didn’t mind watching what the sonographer was doing, fully aware of the procedure that was about to take place, even though it made her nervous.
She couldn’t help but flinch slightly as the procedure began, her body tense for the initial moments before she managed to ease her shoulders and limbs. The doctor offered her a reassuring smile and then shifted her attention to the screen, leaving Reena no choice but to observe the doctor’s expressions.
After what felt like an eternity, the doctor removed her glasses and turned to face her, and the sonographer mentioned something about measurements.
The doctor pointed at the small, round image on the screen. “You see this? That’s your baby. It appears you’re about seven weeks along.”
A wave of relief washed over Reena, a smile spreading across her lips. Her heart swelled with joy, a feeling reminiscent of the first time she’d seen Cleo on a similar screen. Gazing at her baby on the monitor brought her delightful thoughts of the future, but along with the wonderful reveries were also worries about what Tommy’s reaction might be.
What if he didn’t want it?
“Looks like you might have your baby by late May or early June next year,” the doctor added, glancing at Reena now and then. “Isn’t this good news for your family?”
It was. She hoped.
The atmosphere in the car was rather tense as they drove back home from the hospital. Reena had been lost in thought, her mind consumed by worries and uncertainties.
“Leigh,” she began, her voice trembling slightly, “I need you to promise me something.”
He glanced at her, concern etched on his face. “What is it, Miss?”
Reena hesitated for a moment, her fingers fidgeting in her lap. “Please, don’t say anything to Tommy. I need some time to figure things out, to talk to him when I’m ready...”
Leigh was Tommy’s employee, not hers, and asking for such a favor felt like an imposition. However, Reena was resolute in her decision, hoping that somehow, at this moment, her companion would empathize with her reasons.
The car seemed to wrap them in silence as they continued their journey, passing by the scenic views of Vice Point. The cityscape unfolded before her like a series of vivid memories, each building and landmark holding its own stories. The towering skyscrapers and grand structures seemed to symbolize the weight of the world, a world that was about to change for her once more.
Soon enough, they arrived on Starfish Island, the grand archway casting a shadow of ambiguity over their path. The road ahead stretched seemingly infinite, much like the winding thoughts racing through Reena’s mind.
“I won’t say a word to Boss, Miss,” Leigh suddenly said, pulling her out of her musings. “Your secret’s safe with me.”
Her heart fluttered, and she managed to give him back a small smile. “Thank you, Leigh. I appreciate it.”
Exhausted, she stepped through the front door of their home. However, the sound of unfamiliar laughter echoing from the living room surprised her. She noticed Marcus and an unfamiliar man standing near the door, each holding cans of beer. Marcus caught her eye and firmly nodded while subtly tilting his head toward the sitting room.
“They’re inside, Miss Reena,” he said.
Curiosity piqued, Reena set her bag down and made her way toward the source of the laughter, wondering what was going on. Mouthing her voiceless thanks to Marcus, she went for the door and stopped, finding a visitor with Tommy and Cleo inside. The little boy was sitting between them while they talked, playing with a leather cowboy hat, but when he lifted his head and saw her, he dropped the item and hurried down the couch.
“Mama!” he cried out.
With a smile, Reena knelt to welcome her son’s enthusiastic embrace. “Hey baby,” she cooed, wrapping her arms around him and lifting him in a warm hug. Cleo’s innocent laughter filled the air, somehow dampening her worries and fears. As he nestled against her shoulder, she showered him with affectionate kisses.
The visitor, an old man with a thick mustache, grinned widely upon seeing her. He uncrossed his legs and stood tersely, brandishing a hand at her and glancing at Tommy.
“Even more gorgeous in person,” the visitor said, and from Tommy, he shifted his gaze to her. Putting a hand on his chest, the man bowed down gently. “I’m sorry if I haven’t introduced myself. I’m Avery Carrington.”
She remembered the name. There was a dull queasiness in her stomach, like when she was having butterflies, but they kind of hurt instead of exciting, unsure how to explain the experience. This visitor, the man who introduced Tommy to Claude, was now standing before her. It felt so strange to meet new people from their past, even more so when they were someone who knew Claude as well.
Forcing a smile, she walked closer and reached out her hand for a shake. “It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Carrington. I’m Reena.”
The man took her hand, wrinkled fingers gently lifting hers, and in no time, he planted a gentle kiss on her knuckles. “It’s my pleasure. I knew Tommy had an eye for unique beauty.”
“Hey,” Tommy called out sweetly, reaching for her hand and tugging her gently toward the seat beside him. “Avery here’s just visiting. He’s helping me with something.”
Time ticked by like it was nothing while she listened and engaged from time to time in Tommy and Avery’s conversation. Mrs. Hubbard arrived with refreshments, settling them on the coffee table. As they ate, Avery Carrington started to ask her a lot of questions, but most were easy to answer, such as where she came from and what things she was busy with these days until they became more imposing.
“How’d you meet this guy?” Avery inquired, referring to Tommy.
Reena glanced at Tommy quite uneasily, unsure whether to tell their visitor the truth. Instead, she pushed a smile, side-eyeing her husband one more time. “We have a common friend.”
It was just a very simple question, Reena thought. Any person would’ve inquired about that when meeting a friend’s new partner. But why did it feel so hard to answer? Why did she have to maneuver in the depths of her mind to avoid saying things that would further deepen the matter?
“Great things happen by connections, indeed,” Avery affirmed. “That’s how I met your husband!” he boasted, laughing while waving a hand at Tommy. “Dear Reena, how’s he as a husband by the way?”
This time, it was Tommy who glanced at her. She could feel him stiffen by the way he straightened on the couch. His eyes gleamed in palpable anticipation, nervousness, and exhilaration. Reena thought she saw him hold his breath, pressured as if what she was going to say was the world to him.
“Tommy’s the kind of man…” she began, weaving the words in her mind as prudently as she could, “that won’t give up on you no matter how hard things become...”
A grin laced Tommy’s lips, and the air that he seemed to hold in his lungs came out slowly as his shoulders and chest relaxed. A breath of relief. His eyes spoke of thankfulness, and she, in return, beamed in gratitude.
“Not the answer I’m expecting to hear,” Avery commented, though his head bobbed up and down in approval, “but that, as a husband, is something I wanna hear from my wife.”
Reena smiled a bit. “I don’t know what you want me to say, but yes, he’s good in bed.”
Avery Carrington roared into delightful laughter while Tommy’s gaze shot up, gaping at her in surprise. In an instant, he blushed, but he looked proud and almost cheeky, his mischievous smile proved that he liked what she said. His mouth opened a bit as if he was going to say something, but he just huffed and smirked while peering at her to the side.
“That’s just it!” Avery cried while brushing the back of his hand over his eyes. “You got a good wife that appreciates all of you, Tommy!”
“He’s a wonderful man in everything,” she followed up, trying to calm the old man down from his sudden elation. “There’s more to him than what he shows.” It was true. She squeezed Tommy’s hand, and his once roguish beam mellowed.
“Since you mentioned,” Avery chuckled down and rested his back against the couch, “don’t you think of having another child?”
Oh, how things took a sudden plunge. Reena felt a shift in the room’s atmosphere. The air seemed to thicken, making it harder to breathe as her gaze darted between Tommy and the old man. Tommy’s expression mirrored his confusion, and she noticed a mix of emotions flickering in his eyes. Was he nervous? Uncertain? Reena’s heart pounded, desperately trying to decipher his unspoken thoughts.
She studied Tommy closely, looking for any clue that would give her an answer. Her mind raced, wanting to respond to overtake him in answering Avery’s question but struggling to find the right words. Her shoulders tensed with anticipation as she saw Tommy’s lips part, hoping Tommy would say something that would put an end to the unease she felt.
“Raising a child’s a big responsibility,” he said, a faint smirk lacing his cusps. “Cleo’s just one year old, and it would be hard if... we’d have another...”
Her shoulders slumped, and a faint yet distinct sinking feeling in her chest began to take over her senses. Tommy was right; Cleo alone kept them busy, and with his line of work, they were already juggling numerous responsibilities. Another child would undoubtedly add to the challenge.
Tommy’s response was reasonable. They had to prioritize Cleo’s well-being and their current situation.
Her skirt got scrunched in her fingers, and Tommy seemed to take notice of her reaction, his gaze shifting back and forth between her eyes and her hands.
“Anyway, Reena, your husband bought something from me,” Avery said. When Tommy shot him a look and kind of snarled, Avery just laughed and waved a hand impishly. “Just… simple stuff. I’m about to go, I just waited to meet you.”
Reena wanted to feel flattered. Her cheeks burned, but it wasn’t because of Avery’s compliments. Sheepishly, she bit her lip and struggled to keep herself from sulking at the sullen feeling that swept her off her feet. “I hope you can spend more time with Tommy,” she responded gloomily and stood while holding her son. She reached for Avery’s hand once again and shook it firmly. “You’re always welcome here.”
Tommy stood as well and out his arm around her waist, though she recoiled and quickly walked away to slip from his hold, following Avery’s trail as he headed for the door. The man with Marcus and Leigh met the old man, telling him that their car was downstairs.
“See you again soon, Avery. Thanks for letting my boy play with your hat. He had fun.” Tommy gave him back the hat, and afterward, he placed his hand over Reena’s shoulder. She shuddered at his touch, and pretending there was something on her knees, she bent down a bit just to remove his hand. When she stood back up, she felt Tommy’s eyes on her.
“Ah, no!” Avery grabbed the hat and put it on Cleo’s head. “The hat’s your son’s now! My gift to him, and if ever he decides to be a real estate developer someday, tell him he should wear that. It’s my lucky charm.”
Avery departed with his chaperone, walking slowly as he was being assisted. Reena watched as he reached the bottom steps, and as soon as he got in the car that waited, she turned around. Carefully, she treaded up to the second floor, her thumps muffled by the red carpet that covered each step.
“Are you okay?” Tommy asked as he caught up with her, touching the crook of her elbow. “I noticed you got–”
“I’m fine.” She pushed a smile as she reached the top, glancing at her husband whose face showed concern. “I’m just a bit tired and… I’ll go to the nursery for now.”
Tommy didn’t look convinced. “Whatever’s happening, you know you can tell me.”
No, I can’t.
“I know,” she compelled herself to respond, though she already knew what his reaction would be. “I know,” she painstakingly repeated, and Reena turned around, finding her steps in the hollow hallways.
Notes:
Thank you so much for reading <3
Chapter 53: Resistance
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
FRIDAY WENT IN a blur, and sinking into her office chair, Reena quietly stared at the paper that held the result of her ultrasound. The grainy image revealed the tiny life within her, a minuscule form with a flickering heartbeat. She couldn’t help but feel a surge of excitement and awe tugging against fear and worry, wondering what the near future was going to be for her.
Throughout the day, Reena had been consumed by these worries, often retreating to the confines of her office. A few of her concerned staff had ventured in, inquiring about how she was, and she’d mustered a smile and nodded in response. The noticeable shift in her demeanor had not gone unnoticed by those around her, and Reena found herself dipping profoundly into her thoughts. A looming shadow cast over her as she contemplated the moment when she’d have to share the ultrasound results with Tommy, unsure of how he’d react.
Summoning all her willpower, she pushed herself to get out of her office, each step a deliberate effort as she made her way to the balcony on the second floor. Her eyes drifted toward the showroom below, where her staff attended to some customers. She reached for the steel handrail, its surface cold and unyielding beneath her fingers.
This could easily come to an end. Just tell Tommy, she told herself.
Descending the staircase, Reena chose to immerse herself in the activity below. Amid the hustle and bustle, a group of men in suits engaged with her staff, their attention fixed on the models elegantly displayed for sale. As she advanced further, her gaze fell upon a woman at a corner.
The stranger’s allure captivated her, drawing her closer with each step she took.
“Hi, can I help you?” Reena asked, careful not to startle the customer.
The woman turned to glance at her, her lustrous, curly hair cascading with an airy bounce, akin to cotton clouds. Her eyes were adorned with smoky eyeshadow and bold eyeliner, accentuating her intense gaze, while a deep shade of red lipstick graced her lips, further amplifying her presence. Though a few fine lines grazed her face, they only served to enhance her glamour.
She offered a warm smile before returning her attention to the car beside her. “This is a beautiful Sentinel you have here,” she commented.
Indeed, it was. With a sleek and shiny black exterior, the Sentinel had a stylish and efficient design that made it look elegant and powerful. The windows were tinted for privacy, its shiny chrome details adding a touch of luxury to its overall appearance… a stylish and sophisticated vehicle that could turn heads wherever it went.
Reena nodded, sensing that the stranger was welcoming her to a conversation. “I agree. My husband makes sure to secure all kinds of cars here in Vice City.”
The woman ran her hand over the hood of the car, her head bobbing up and down. “What can I say? Your husband has a taste for great cars,” she added, casting Reena another glance. “I suppose you’re the showroom’s manager?”
With a smile, Reena gave the woman a firm nod. “My name’s Reena, at your service.”
The woman’s gaze darted from her head to toe, then, she extended an arm, gloves adorning her hand. “The name’s Maggy.”
Somehow, the woman’s gesture felt a bit off, but Reena accepted the handshake she was offering. “If you need anything, or if you’re interested in making a purchase, I’d be glad to assist you.”
A more defined smile conquered her face, a smile so bright yet so uncanny. “You said your husband chose the cars himself. Is he a powerful man?”
It was a question she didn’t expect from a stranger, but Reena didn’t want to be rude. “It’s safe to say he’s quite influential, at least, here in the city,” she responded.
The woman seemed satisfied by Reena’s answer as remarked by her brow arching upward. “Men have the influence,” she began, “but behind them was always a woman who fuels the strength. Don’t you agree, Reena?”
Reena tried to suppress her smile, but it slipped out anyway. “Even before I came, he’s already made his name,” she countered gently. “I don’t wanna take any credit for it.”
As the woman’s lips formed a subtle frown, her eyes wandered around the showroom, seemingly taking in all the sight she was seeing. “You’ll see what I mean, darling,” she mumbled. With her bag gracefully slung over her arm, she took deliberate steps toward Reena, and as she drew closer, her hand gently clasped Reena’s arm in a tender squeeze. “Often, the woman’s also the cause of their downfall. A weakness.”
To say that Reena was speechless was an understatement. All she could do was watch the woman walk past her, and upon reaching the exits, the men in suits immediately followed her. The showroom was enveloped in silence, leaving her and the staff in confusion.
Once the woman and the men had left the showroom, Reena walked toward her staff, unable to stop herself from frowning. “Have they been here before?” she asked, still casting a glance in their direction.
“I saw the men in suits the other day,” one of the staff answered. “But not the woman. It was her first time to be here.”
The other staff scratched his head. “When they come here, they always ask about the cars and what time we’ll be closing. I thought they were finally buying something today,” he said disappointedly.
“It’s okay,” Reena affirmed, patting both of the staff’s shoulders. “Let’s close up. It’s already late.”
“Yes, Miss…”
Reena made her way back to her office, and once more, her wallowing resumed.
Silence was only broken by the rhythmic clicking of keys on her keyboard. The day had come to an end, and the last of her employees had bid their goodbyes and left. Now, Reena was all alone, a solitude she welcomed as she had some final ledger work to complete before leaving. The lights on the ground floor had been switched off, plunging the area into darkness, with only the soft glow of lampposts outside and the warm light of her desk lamp illuminating her office.
The anticipation of Tommy’s impending arrival made her heart race, each beat echoing in her chest like a drum. In just a matter of minutes, they’d be sitting down to dinner, and she would need to tell him the truth. Her fingers, once steady on the keyboard, began to tremble as she pondered the best way to broach the topic that had been weighing on her mind.
Show him the ultrasound, a thought that had crossed her mind several times. However, the prospect of laying the document out on the linen-covered table of a fancy restaurant made her second-guess. Perhaps in the car? But the thought of dropping such news while they were driving, potentially causing a distraction, didn’t seem wise either.
The idea of revealing the news to Tommy before they left the showroom began to take shape in her mind. It seemed like the safest option, as it would be just the two of them, and the place was familiar and comfortable. She considered the various scenarios that could unfold – his reaction ranging from shock to anger – and the potential consequences like him leaving her alone at Sunshine Autos or giving her the cold shoulder during the car ride to the restaurant. There was even the possibility that they might decide not to go to dinner at all.
If he said that he didn’t want the baby, would she be ready to let it go?
Her thoughts were abruptly interrupted by a loud and shattering noise emanating from downstairs. The unexpected sound jolted her out of her musings, and her heart raced as she wondered what could’ve caused such a disturbance.
The building was made of glass walls and doors, and the sound might mean either of the two was breaking. Filled with concern, Reena rose from her chair and made her way to the office door. She cautiously peeked out onto the first floor, her eyes gradually adjusting to the dimly lit surroundings.
What she saw sent a shiver down her spine – the unmistakable silhouettes of men dressed in black overalls and masks, their figures even darker than the surrounding darkness itself.
Terror clawed at Reena’s chest, and she instinctively placed both hands over her mouth in a desperate attempt to stifle the gasp that threatened to escape. Her breath caught, her shoulders tensed, and beads of sweat began to form on her forehead as she strained to listen to the ominous footsteps drawing nearer.
Panicking, she retreated behind the door and heard the heavy thuds approaching. In a swift, panicked motion, she rushed back to her desk and frantically disconnected the plugs of her computer and lamp, covering the room with complete darkness. She squeezed herself beneath her desk, hastily pulling her swivel chair in as a makeshift cover. She pressed her palms firmly against her mouth once more, her senses heightened to the impending danger.
In sheer terror, all Reena could do now was wait, hoping against hope that they’d depart without discovering her hiding place. Her trembling hand sought her phone on the desk, but in the darkness, her fingers stumbled over the mouse and keyboard, producing audible clicks that made her squint with fear.
She continued to grope for her phone, fingers finally brushing against the device’s frame. With utmost caution, she attempted to retrieve it, but her grip faltered, and the phone slipped from her grasp, crashing to the floor with an alarming thud that echoed through the room.
“Shit,” she whispered quite aloud.
She retrieved the fallen phone from the floor, her hands shaking so violently that she could barely maintain her clutch. Tears welled up in her eyes, and her jaw quivered uncontrollably as she dialed Tommy’s number. Each ring seemed to stretch into an agonizing eternity, and with every passing moment, she fervently wished for him to answer the call.
“Hey sweetheart, I’m on my way–”
“Tommy, there are men here!” Her voice quivered with fear, and she had to suppress her shout into a desperate whisper. Before she could say more, the door to her office emitted a soft, eerie creak. In a panic, she abruptly ended the call, clutching her phone tightly as she held her breath. The footsteps drew nearer, slow and deliberate until she sensed the intruder standing mere inches from her desk, right behind her. Under the table, Reena cowered, her heart pounding in her chest like a trapped bird.
Then, her phone rang.
It was Tommy. He was calling.
The man’s hands shot down and seized Reena’s hair, yanking her out of her hiding spot. Her fingers fought desperately against his vice-like grip, causing her to drop the phone, the device clattering to the floor in her struggle. He thrust her to the ground, and her head collided with the hard pavement, sending a sharp pain through her temples. She quickly flipped onto her stomach, crawling toward the exit in a desperate bid for escape.
Just as she neared the door, the man grabbed her legs, forcing her to turn around, and pinned her down with his weight. His hands clamped around her neck, cutting off her air supply. Fright gripped her, and she tapped at his wrist in a futile attempt to get him off, her vision blurring as oxygen became scarce. Reena squirmed beneath him, her efforts to dislodge his hold was nothing against his overwhelming strength. She scratched at his body, trying to find any weak point, but he was unyielding.
As her world darkened, Reena gasped for breath, her hands flailing in desperation, clawing at his face to no avail.
The baby… my baby…
Reena’s arms weakened, and soon, despite her attempts to scrape him with her nails, she found herself spiraling to unconsciousness. Her hands slid to his side, but before they dropped to the floor, she’d touched something familiar in the belt of his pants. In her final effort to save her own life, she grabbed the object and felt its cold grip. Reena clutched it as hard as she could and drew the weapon from the man’s pocket.
His side burst on her chest as she pulled the trigger, spilling warm blood. The man fell on top of her, groaning in pain while his weight squashed her body. Grunting, Reena pushed him as hard as she could until she was able to toss him over. The moment his body weight was lifted, she gasped for air, holding her neck and puking on the floor caused by the sudden release. Whenever she tried to inhale, she’d cough and retch as if her air passage had been blocked, unable to take in the air she needed.
There was no time to recover. The moment she realized that she was at arm’s reach of the man, she crawled away from him without letting go of the gun. Forcing herself to get back to her senses while gagging and panting, she immediately stood and scampered out of the office. Reena aimed for the stairs, but much to her torment, she found the other men climbing up and running toward her.
She dashed to the other side of the floor leading to a dead end. Without a choice, and while trying to regain her breath, she pointed the gun at the two men approaching, who were likewise pointing guns at her and slowly creeping closer.
“Drop the gun, lady…”
Despite the waning knees, Reena stepped back, keeping the gun directed at the assailants. She could taste blood in her mouth.
“We’re not gonna hurt you…”
When she stepped back for another time, her shoes felt the wall, and she realized that she had nowhere to go at all.
“Just… just turn around and leave...” she warned, swallowing the lump in her throat along with the metallic taste she tried to ignore. She almost spewed.
The two men cackled ominously.
Reena recalled the feeling of being pointed a gun at. It was a feeling she was no longer foreign to. The Colombians. Catalina. Joey Leone. It was the same intense, hostile, and abominable feeling.
Her vision got distorted, and she couldn’t tell anymore if she was seeing things correctly.
Someone from behind grabbed the head of one of the masked men, smashing him on the wall and then shoving him toward the edge of the railings. The other immediately turned around, but Reena’s reflexes came on, and she pulled the trigger.
As the intruder fell to the floor, she saw Tommy standing in front of her, breathing heavily, glaring at the wounded man. He roared, and Reena flinched as she watched him shoot the man and kick him in the head over and over. Tommy stooped down, grabbed the man’s shirt, and hurled him over the railings as well. The loud crash of his body on the ground floor made her whimper.
Tommy lifted his eyes, and though hazy, Reena felt danger. His eyes – her husband’s eyes – were burning in rage, like that of a ferocious monster ready to wreak havoc. She wasn’t sure when was the last time she’d seen him glower that way. Instead of feeling safe, Reena was seized by dread in his presence, making her hold the gun tighter. She clasped it with both her hands and pointed at him while quivering uncontrollably.
“G-Get away from me!”
The murderous glare he wore suddenly paled. Tommy looked at her filled with worry, scared shitless in the shadows. Despite the gun pointed at him, he moved forward, shoved the weapon away, and embraced her.
“It’s me… It’s me, baby,” he mumbled, cupping her face and kissing her on the top of her head.
All the confusion, fear, and distress she felt came crashing in an instant. Reena burst into tears, dropping the gun, and her hands clutched his suit as if she was tearing it apart. She wasn’t able to prevent the wail that broke out from her chest, and her trepidation for herself and the baby she was carrying cascaded through her tears. Her knees faltered; she knew she wasn’t standing anymore, but Tommy held her up tightly, keeping her upright in his arms.
“Did they hurt you?! Tell me, please…”
“There’s…” she gulped, “there’s still someone in my office…” She couldn’t even swallow. “I shot him...”
“Is he dead?!”
“I… I don’t know…”
Tommy enfolded his arms around her and pulled her toward the office. When they reached the door, Tommy turned on the lights, and the masked man that strangled her lay on the floor, still bleeding and groaning. Reena couldn’t remember how many times, but the blasts of the gun in Tommy’s hand didn’t stop until it ran out of bullets, and he didn’t rest from beating the man until he was swimming in his pool of blood, certain that he was more than dead.
He took forever.
Without her knowing it, Tommy scooped her into his arms, carrying her as he did in Angel Pine, the same way Claude carried her when he went back for her in Shoreside Vale. She clung to his neck as tears flowed down her cheeks, burying herself in his bosom for comfort, like she did before to him… like she did before to Claude.
When they reached the bottom steps, she tried to lift her head, but Tommy discouraged her from doing so.
“No, sweetie, don’t look.”
The night breeze blew on her skin as they exited the building. Tommy laid her in the passenger seat and pulled the seatbelt around her body, buckling her safely. He slammed the door shut and ran to the driver’s seat. As soon as he got in, he started the engine, picked up his phone, and called whoever, all the while she sobbed in her seat.
“Clean up the mess here in Sunshine Autos, and tell the gang to fuckin’ gather up!”
He hung up and slammed his foot on the pedal, and the Cheetah zoomed into the road. While he drove, he reached for her hand and pressed her knuckles on his lips.
“Dinner date’s canceled. We’re going home…” he said, but Reena couldn’t feel anything anymore.
Notes:
I'm not sure, but... by chance, do you remember any Maggy? Not in the lore, of course! XD
Thank you so much for reading! <3
Chapter 54: Second
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
AS THE MORNING sun began its ascent, the horizon painted a canvas of bright yellow and orange hues, casting a warm glow on the thin clouds. A gentle breeze swept across the eastern coastline, carrying the scent of saltwater and seaweed. The tranquil waters rippled with each passing wave, their soothing melodies harmonizing with the cheerful chirping of birds perched gracefully on the mooring poles.
In the distance, a flock of seagulls approached from the west, gliding gracefully above the beach at the far end of the channel. Their wings caught the light, creating a dazzling display against the sky. The atmosphere seemed almost surreal as if the world had paused to witness the sunrise and savor the beauty of the new day.
Tommy hadn’t returned since he took Reena home. He’d been tirelessly scouring all of Vice City with the Vercetti Gang, determined to find whoever had tried to harm his wife. He made it clear that they couldn’t rest until they uncovered any leads, leveraging all their connections and visiting every associate in their quest for answers, yet their efforts yielded no results.
The only thing they found out from the staff of Sunshine Autos was that a peculiar group of individuals, which included an affluent woman, visited the showroom and engaged in conversation with his wife before leaving without making a purchase. They also investigated the bodies, even Tommy himself, but found nothing. Out of frustration, he let out his pent-up fury toward the dead bodies of the assailants, shooting them like they were targets for practice shooting. He also asked for a thorough review of their security cameras, but the woman’s face was not captured, blurred in the shitty device.
Who the fuck are they?!
Marcus and Leigh were rather sleepy in the car, but he was wide awake, not blinking an eye.
The mobsters, including Mrs. Hubbard, were paralyzed upon seeing Reena. No one dared to utter a question; they merely observed in stunned silence as he carried her and walked toward the bedroom. Her pale face, framed by disheveled hair, was a distinction to the dark, brutal marks on her neck, and the burst blood vessels in her eyes spoke of the horrors she’d endured. Tommy’s heart ached as he held her, but his anger simmered beneath like a wildfire.
Reena broke down in the shower, and Tommy helped her in washing away the blood, revealing the painful bruises that marred her delicate skin. The sound of her anguished wails echoed through the walls, breaking his heart into pieces.
She shivered nonstop, her sobs wracking her fragile frame. Her wide eyes were bursting with a haunting dread that tore at Tommy’s soul. Exhausted and emotionally drained, Reena had little strength left. In his arms, he cradled her as she finally found solace in sleep, her breaths gradually steadying.
Once he was sure she was safe and resting, he left the estate, gathered the mobsters, and started their hunt for those responsible, his heart consumed by a burning desire for revenge.
The waters appeared calm, but peace remained elusive within him. Taking a deep breath, he approached the car and slammed his hand on the roof, jolting up the twins inside. “Wake the fuck up, we’re heading back to the estate,” he commanded sharply.
Marcus swiftly turned on the engine and accelerated away from the bridge, heading toward the Vice Point area. They passed by several establishments, some of which he protected, riddled by his mobsters. Though it was in the opposite direction, Tommy couldn’t help but glance at the side-view mirror, his eyes fixed on the area where the building he’d destroyed the other day once stood.
“Boss,” Marcus’s voice broke him out of his thoughts. “They got Sunshine Autos cleaned up.”
“Where’d they put the bodies?”
“In the sewers, as you said.”
“Good,” he growled. “I want everybody to know what would happen to them if they tried me once more.”
He looked ahead at the windscreen, seeing the arch of the bridge that led to Starfish Island. Tommy didn’t know if he had enough time to veer away from anger for a while, but he couldn’t afford to let his rage consume him, not when Reena needed him most.
They were supposed to be preparing for the trip. He had to get ready for the flight, check the controls, and secure the Maverick. Marcus and Leigh needed to drive Mrs. Hubbard and Cleo to the resort early on; they must be there before he and Reena arrived. He still had the ring with him, lying quietly in the inner pocket of his slightly bloody suit. He thought of giving it to her last night, on their dinner date, which turned into a nightmare. Everything came to a halt, and now, every part of his plan was ruined.
Tommy was certain it wasn’t Reena’s first time to see him kill someone. He didn’t know how many she’d seen back in Angel Pine when he shot all those motherfuckers that came out of her house… and Joey Leone. He hadn’t killed a soul after Poulet. But last night… last night was different.
Seeing her cornered, covered in blood, as two unknown men advanced toward her awakened something in him. Every rage he kept within and all the fear that wrapped his head in a blind determination made him do what he did in front of her. He remembered the fear in her eyes – the terror they flashed when she looked up and pointed the gun at him, her shivering limbs, her hollow voice, her restless cries…
When they pulled into the driveway, Tommy spotted Mrs. Hubbard hurrying down the concrete steps, her plump legs moving as fast as they could manage. A sense of foreboding gripped him, and even before the car had come to a complete stop, Tommy swiftly opened the door, causing Marcus to slam on the brakes.
“Why? What’s the matter?!” Tommy asked as he ran to the old woman.
“It’s Reena, Mr. Vercetti!”
He wasted no time. He dashed into the mansion, his footsteps echoing through the vast foyer and extensive hallways toward the kitchen. A cup of tea lay spilled on the island, and a stool had been upended not far from it. Reena’s back was turned to him, her trembling hands pressed against the countertop as she leaned over the sink, violently retching into it. The sound was guttural and strained, and even the rushing water couldn’t drown it out.
Tommy scurried over to her side, paying no heed to the chaos around him. He gently gathered her hair and placed a hand on her back. With one hand, Reena pulled away from the countertop and pressed it to her abdomen, her face contorted in pain as she continued to vomit, thin streams of spew and saliva flowing from her mouth.
“We gotta get you a doctor…” Tommy muttered, his chest almost bursting out of worry. He turned and spotted Mrs. Hubbard entering through the door, flanked by Marcus and Leigh. The elderly woman placed both hands over her chest, her gaze fixed on Reena as she continued to retch into the sink. Tommy swiftly turned his attention to Marcus, snappily tilting his head. “Call the doctor, now!”
“Yes, Boss.” Marcus immediately drew out his phone and walked out of the kitchen.
After a few moments, it appeared that Reena was starting to ease up. She placed a shaky hand under the running water and rinsed her mouth with a gulp. Tommy reached over and turned off the faucet for her, then helped her stand back up. Leigh hurried to grab the upended stool, while Mrs. Hubbard moved to clean up the spilled tea.
She was pale, her skin glistening with sweat, and the bruises on her neck had darkened noticeably. In an instant, the anger he tried to suppress came crashing back, fueled by the sight of the marks those assailants had inflicted on his wife.
All he could think of was getting her the justice she deserved… the justice he’d willingly put in his hands.
A touch on his arm pulled him back to reality. Reena seemed to force a smile on her face, a smile he knew wasn’t of happiness but a mere attempt to appease his growing fury. Perhaps, she recognized the look in his eyes again, or the twisting of his face, or his shallow breathing. She was in pain, sick, and struggling, but she was putting him first nonetheless.
“Where have you been?” she asked, her voice weak. Her hand cupped his cheek, and her palm felt chillingly cold.
Guilt washed over him as he realized he had been absent for too long. “I’ll find them, sweetheart, I promise,” he assured her.
“Stay with me, please…”
All Tommy could do was nod. He helped her to get seated, but once she turned around and attempted to take a step forward, Reena seemed to stiffen. Her hold on his arm tightened, her fingers dug into his muscle, and her brows furrowed.
“What’s wrong?” Tommy asked.
Her pallid complexion grew even more ashen, and her eyes rolled backward as she lost her footing.
“Reena!”
Tommy caught her by the crook of her arms before she touched the floor. With trembling hands, he scooped her delicate body, instinctively holding her close to him. His senses seemed to be in overdrive, making every second feel like an eternity. The distance he covered to get to the living room felt longer than ever before, each step heavy with fear, and the familiar surroundings of the foyer felt foreign to him as if the walls were closing in.
He laid her down on the couch, securing a pillow beneath her head. Her skin was almost drained of any color as her arm hung to the side. He could hear Marcus speaking outside, telling the doctor to come quickly. Mrs. Hubbard rushed inside the living room, bringing with her a basin with a clean towel. She knelt beside Reena and began wiping her with it.
“Sweetie, wake up…” Tommy’s heart pounded loudly in his chest as he desperately tried to rouse Reena from her unconscious state. Fear gripped him like never before, his hands trembling as he cupped her cheeks gently, hoping to feel any sign of response.
With each passing second, Tommy’s anxiety grew, and his mind raced with worst-case scenarios. In a desperate attempt to elicit any response, he took her hands into his, his thumbs pressing gently on each pressure point, hoping to coax a reaction from her. Reena winced, her facial expression indicating that she was in pain, but at least, she had a response.
After what felt like forever, with him and Mrs. Hubbard continuously trying to give Reena the aid she needed, the doctor stormed into the living room, his sense of urgency evident in his brisk strides.
Tommy left the living room, pacing back and forth in the foyer. He kept on asking her the other night if something else hurt, but as far as he could tell, Reena was not able to give him any direct answer. Tommy sat down on the floor, leaning on the wall and propping his elbows on his knees. He glanced at his wristwatch, his impatience growing with each passing minute. He wished for the doctor to come out and tell him what was going on, but for now, all he could do was wait.
He'd stand, sit, and stand again, then walk, stop, and repeat. His legs tapped vigorously as he lingered impatiently, slowly reaching the end of his wit. He paced back and forth once more, only to endure another grueling moment of anticipation.
Is she sick? She doesn’t tell me anything. What kind of a husband am I? Tommy kept on thinking over and over again as he ran his fingers through his hair.
The door to the living room opened. “Mr. Vercetti…”
It was as if a thorn had been plucked from his chest when the doctor emerged. He quickly straightened up and approached him. “How’s it going? How’s she?”
“Can I talk to you for a sec?”
“Yeah, sure.”
They walked toward the grand terrace. The sunlight spilled over the elegant marble floors, an opposition to how he was feeling. The doctor’s face wore a mix of concern and curiosity, his footsteps echoing softly against the tiled surface. The distant sound of a gentle breeze rustling through the palm trees in the estate’s garden was soothing but not enough to quell Tommy’s trepidation.
“The bruises, man. They’re sick…” the doctor remarked, his voice heavy with concern.
Tommy let out a sigh as he leaned against the terrace railing. “She got attacked last night,” he explained, his jaw clenched with frustration. “She fought back.”
“Business matters again?” the doctor asked, his tone tinged with understanding.
“I’m not sure,” Tommy replied, his voice laced with determination. “But I won’t fucking stop until I find them.”
It was only then that it occurred to him how neglectful he was. Why didn’t he bring her to the hospital immediately? He let anger take control of him, and instead of being there for her and with her, he roamed around the city like a hunter searching for his prey.
The doctor cleared his throat. “How was her diet in the past months?”
“She eats just normally,” Tommy responded as he swept a hand down his face. “She’s not much of an eater, but I encourage her to eat more.”
“Has she been craving some food?” the doctor probed further.
Tommy’s brows churned in confusion, wondering what the questions were for. “No, not that I know of.”
“Has there been a change in her sleep–”
“I wanna know, is she sick?!” He cut through the questions, wanting to get straight to the point. “She was having frequent headaches, she was nauseous, she fainted, fuck…” He grunted as he held his head with both hands in desperation.
“Your wife’s not sick, Tommy, except that she’s quite sensitive these days. Has she told you about her spotting?”
Tommy’s brows furrowed. “Spotting?” he echoed, his mind racing to grasp the inquiry. “No, she hasn’t mentioned anything like that to me. Why would she be?”
“It’s common in the first trimester to have these symptoms, but she needs to be more careful.”
Tommy’s eyes widened. “First trimester?” he exclaimed, his voice quivering with shock.
The doctor seemed to hesitate, his lips pursing, causing a gnawing feeling of dread to creep into Tommy’s heart. Connecting the dots, Tommy was left with overwhelming emotions and thoughts about what this could mean for him and Reena.
Her silence during their moments together, the hesitant attempts to convey something she couldn’t bring herself to articulate, her altered demeanor following Avery’s visit…
Now, it all made sense.
Without waiting for the doctor to speak, Tommy’s instincts took over, and he couldn’t bear waiting any longer. He needed to know the truth, no matter how difficult it might be. Pushing past the doors, he stormed into the living room, feeling a surge of urgency propelling him forward.
He found his wife lying on the couch. Her eyes grew wide with fear and concern as she saw him, sitting up as if the force of his emotions had pulled her to her feet.
Tommy’s chest was nearly bursting. His lungs seemed to constrict the airflow, preventing him from taking bigger and deeper breaths. He could feel his shoulders rigid, the pulses in his temples throbbing.
She gazed at him momentarily until her mouth slightly parted. “I’m sorry, Tommy, I really want to tell you, but I don’t know how–”
But he lunged toward her and stopped her midway, wrapping her whole body with his arms. Reena was pregnant. His wife was pregnant. He couldn’t explain what he was feeling – shock, disbelief, and fucking insurmountable joy. He couldn’t believe that they were going to have another child… that he was going to be a father. The secret she’d kept from him felt heavy, but now, all he could feel was love for his wife and the life growing inside her.
He held her tightly, burying his face in her hair, trying to collect his thoughts. Reena’s arms clung to his shoulders, and he felt her trembling body against him. He pulled back slightly to look into her eyes, and without saying a word, he kissed her gently, pouring all his love and emotions into that single gesture.
“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”
Her breath hitched. “I was supposed to…” she confessed, tears glistening in her eyes. “Last night, but–”
Tommy shook his head, a soft smile forming on his lips. He pulled her close and kissed her forehead, pressing his lips on her for an indefinite time. His hands firmly held her cheeks, his eyes meeting her gaze.
“Do you wanna keep the baby?” she asked.
“Of course, I do! What makes you think I don’t want to?”
“Y-You told Avery that having another child’s a huge responsibility.”
His face roiled, but the mirth in his chest made him laugh. “I said that, but I didn’t say I don’t want to.”
“I just thought that probably you might not be ready…”
Every word she spoke tugged at his heartstrings, making him realize the depth of her fears and insecurities. He’d never wanted anything more than to be with her, to protect her, and to love her unconditionally.
This was his chance.
His fingers gently tilted her chin, so their eyes met once more. “I’m damn fucking ready, Reena…” he whispered, his heart filled with conviction. “If you just know how much you’re making me happy…”
“I’m scared, Tommy…”
“No, don’t be… I’ll never leave your side. Okay? I’m here all the way. Even if you want me to disappear, I won’t!” He chuckled, claiming her lips once more. Warm tears streamed from her eyes, and Tommy welcomed them on his face. From her lips, he moved to her forehead, kissing her tenderly, making sure she’d feel his warmth and adoration. “I was supposed to be the one giving you a gift and here you are, giving me the best present ever there is…”
“Thank you, Tommy,” she whispered, her voice a melody to his ears. She clung to him, and he could feel her worries slowly lifting.
Now, Tommy knew that he was exactly where he belonged – in Reena’s arms, ready to build his own family that he had always dreamed of…
Notes:
I think Tommy Vercetti's going to make a good father.
Thank you so much for reading! <3
Chapter 55: Bed of Roses
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
HOLDING THE SKIRT of her dress that was being blown away by the gargantuan blades of the Maverick, Reena found herself staring at the vessel in awe. It was her first time to see it up close, and she, for the love of gods, hadn’t expected that Tommy was still planning to fly her out of the city, much to her thrill and terror. She felt like a small insect cowering before the chopper, its blades’ vigorous rotation driving cold air in her direction.
Reena brushed the pads of her fingers over the dull marks around her neck. It felt just like yesterday, and she didn’t notice how fast two months passed after the incident. Somehow, a faint twinge in her chest pulsated, reminiscing about that painful and horrible moment, but everything was dispelled when Tommy finally discovered their pregnancy.
Though they had to wait for recovery, it was worth celebrating.
Tommy touched the small of her back and guided her toward the chopper. Before she got in, he swathed a jacket around her shoulders.
“It might be cold up there. We can’t snuggle inside.”
His snicker was teasing, and all Reena could do was shake her head. While beaming sheepishly to herself, Tommy got in the Maverick first. Letting go of her hold on the hems of the jacket, she stepped up onto the landing skid as he hauled her up toward the cockpit. Mike, one of Tommy’s men, assisted her, guiding her up gently until she got in.
Soon, she was seated beside her husband, her legs parted by a throttle in the middle. Flicking switches in the control panel while the deafening roars of the blades overwhelmed their surroundings, Tommy glanced at her, still wearing the mischievous grin on his face. He grabbed the headset attached to a spring wire and put it on her head. Reena adjusted the device, and the boisterous whirring was rather muffled. As she did so, Tommy pulled the seatbelt across her body, tucking her in quite tightly on the seat.
“Gotta make sure you’re safe,” Tommy muttered, then he planted a kiss on the back of her hand. “Relax and enjoy the view.”
Mike closed the doors, and Tommy firmly waved a hand as his thanks. Reena found herself holding tightly onto the armrest while Tommy put on his headset and sunglasses. Noticing she was getting uneasy, he put his hand on her lap and squeezed it gently.
“Ready?”
“If I say no, will you let me down?” she asked nervously.
“It’s my birthday and our anniversary. I know you won’t say no.”
His chuckle was equally delightful and portentous. Letting go of his sweet hold on her, he grabbed the throttle between his legs and what looked like a pulley between their seats. The pressure in her chest heaved upward as the aircraft slowly lifted, shaking a bit as it took off the helipad, and her tight grip on the armrest had turned into a claw.
The beauty of the Waterview had always snatched her gaze, but up above, she couldn’t bring herself to enjoy it. They were high… too high, and instead of being able to relax, her breath got caught in her throat which she tried to stifle with a hard gasp. The palm tree leaves that surrounded Vercetti Estate were blown helplessly, futilely shaking at the tops of the trees, and the humming and buzzing sound from the headset quite troubled her.
Tommy pushed the throttle forward, and while he spoke through the headset things she couldn’t understand, he glanced at her and smiled. Though she was bracing the entire time during their ascent, she couldn’t deny that his beam was reassuring, and no matter how scared she was right there beside him, she knew that nothing would happen to her. She was with him after all.
It was bright, very radiant from above, and in a few moments of initial fear, Reena began to feel the magnificence of the view. The city below was aglow with Christmas lights and decorations, turning the urban landscape into a wonderland. It was a breathtaking view. She couldn’t help but be captivated by the shimmering sea and the opulent sky above, which seemed to erase any lingering doubts she might’ve had.
Somehow, the craft tilted, prompting her to claw into the armrest. Tommy rotated the aircraft, and once they did a half turn, Reena’s breath was taken away by the beauty of Starfish Island.
As she reveled in the enchanting scenery below, a familiar, old feeling started to grow in her chest. The higher they went, the more it grew, and her mind flashed moments of her life that she’d somehow shunned but was able to re-emerge.
Was it the same dread she had when they flew out of the building, through the broken windows and shattered glasses? Was it the same guttural sense she had when she swallowed all her fear and jumped into the rising water of Pike Creek? Were the sun’s last rays fading in the horizon bringing the same scorching feeling as how the blistering winds engulfed them at the top of the scaffold?
At first, she thought, it was. But now, she glided in the air like a free bird soaring amid the blowing winds and the twinkling stars, witnessing nothing but marvels from above. With Tommy, no more breaking through glass windows at the top of buildings, no more jumping into raging waters, and no more getting trapped at the top of burning scaffolds. She was safe. She and Cleo were safe with him.
But was this what she wanted?
Reena felt like betraying Tommy for thinking of things she was supposed not to be reminiscing at all. Her jaws clenched at the memories, and for a while, she shut her eyes, forcing the defiant recollections to the back of her mind like things to be discarded.
Fly with him, fly with Tommy.
She turned to her side and leaned closer to Tommy, pressing her lips on his cheek. He was stunned, yet, he looked so enthralled, amazed by the affection she showed to cover up her true self.
This is my life now. No more Claude.
“I wanna ask you something…” he said.
Her soul gravitated back into her body, and the nervousness resumed.
“You told me before… You only said yes because you were thinking of him, right?”
Every part of her body hardened. Was Tommy able to read her mind? Her throat suddenly got parched, and with her heartbeat drumming in her chest, she cast him a shameful glance. “Tommy, I-I didn’t mean to. That was… something that slipped my tongue.”
But she meant it that time. She did say yes because, in the ceremony, she was seeing Claude. She was imagining him standing before her, exchanging vows with her, holding her hand, putting a ring on her finger…
Tommy cast her a glance, though nothing suspicious was painted on his face. Instead, all she saw was the nervous smile on his lips, the pale lines on his handsome face, and the thin hair on his cheeks and chin that only made him beyond attractive.
“Can you grab something from my shirt’s pocket, please?” He slightly dipped his chin toward a small pouch on his chest.
With both of her hands trembling, Reena huffed as she reached into his pocket, slipping two of her fingers inside. At the very bottom, her touch found an object that she carefully extracted. Nestled between her fingers, she discovered a ring, its entire band adorned with dazzling diamonds that glistened from every angle. Reena’s heart swelled, and her eyes welled with emotion, leaving her momentarily speechless.
Their agreement. Twelve months. They reached its end. A year ago, they promised each other that it would just be a year of pretense, then they’d move on… live their own lives the way they were meant to. But now, did this mean they weren’t ending it?
“If I ask you now, what do you say?”
Her gaze fixed on Tommy. Her friend. Her son’s father figure. Her husband. She looked at the ring once again, feeling more guilty. How dare she think of someone else while she was with him?
“Reena,” he called out, urging her to lift her gaze.
Tommy looked ahead, toward the dark skies, where the flickering lights below shimmered as if they were soaring above seas of stars and constellations. Then, in a fleeting moment, he turned to her, his eyes filled with sparkling hope as if imploring, beseeching, and silently begging for something more. A soft puff of breath escaped his lips, and Reena’s heart pounded so loudly that she almost believed she could hear it.
“Will you marry me?”
Her silence hung heavy in the air, and he didn’t press for an answer.
Tommy seemed to try his best to lighten up the mood by talking about the places they passed by, but it was a futile attempt to conceal the growing tension caused by her nonresponse. As the chopper descended, Reena’s heart pounded louder than the thudding blades above. The initial excitement of the flight had dissipated, replaced by an awkward silence that seemed to stretch endlessly. She stole a glance at Tommy, who appeared lost in thought, his usually confident demeanor now clouded with uncertainty.
Reena desperately wanted to break the stillness, to bridge the gap that had grown between them during the flight, but her words felt trapped in her throat. She wished she could express her feelings openly, but the fear of making hasty decisions held her back.
Upon their arrival in the resort, it was Cleo who welcomed them, leaping down to the ground from Mrs. Hubbard’s arms. He ran toward them, his little feet making huge steps, galloping his way into Reena and Tommy’s spot.
“Mama!” he yelled joyfully. “Papa!”
She scooped the boy in her arms, planting a deep kiss on his bubbly cheek, and then he stretched his arms toward Tommy, seemingly asking the latter to take him.
“Let’s play!” he cried out.
Seemingly forcing a faint smile, Tommy took Cleo and heaved him higher on his shoulder. “Alright, let’s go…” He threw her a slight glance, pursed his lips into a thin smile, and went to the beachside with the little boy.
A part of her wanted to follow them, but her feet seemed planted on the ground, preventing her from making any move. Averting her gaze from Tommy as he walked away, she approached Mrs. Hubbard and assisted in the preparations. She went by the motions of laying down the plates and the cutlery, folding the napkins, and straightening the tablecloth, but her mind wandered somewhere else.
Somewhere that her heart refused to go to.
“Dear, are you alright?” Mrs. Hubbard’s question caught her by surprise. “Would you like to join them both? Me and the boys can do this…”
“It’s fine, Mrs. Hubbard, I wanna help you–”
“You don’t have to. It’s your day both,” the old woman said, her hold on Reena’s arm gentle yet reassuring.
There was no excuse to be made. Reena had to do something.
Her eyes scanned the picturesque surroundings. The golden sands stretched out before her, meeting the clear azure waves that gently lapped the shore. Palm trees swayed in the soft breeze, casting dancing shadows on the ground. The resort itself stood tall, a sanctuary of luxury and relaxation. However, despite the beauty of the scenery, Reena couldn’t shake off the fear that gripped her. It clung to her like an unwelcome companion, even amidst the serene atmosphere. She tried to immerse herself in the beauty of the beach, but the weight of unspoken words between her and Tommy kept her anchored in her troubles.
She reached into her pocket, feeling the box that held the ring Tommy had given her. With anticipation, she slowly opened it, savoring the opulence of the precious gift cradled by the satin pillow. The stone within glimmered like a distant star, illuminating the uncertainties that clouded her vision of the future. Slipping the ring onto her finger, it fit flawlessly as if it had been made for her.
With determination in her heart, Reena strode across the beach, making her way toward Tommy and Cleo’s spot.
Cleo’s posture was now firmer, his run faster, and his words clearer, quite far from how he was months ago. He was playing on the sand, running here and there, forming figures, and kicking them to destruction. When the sand formations fell, he tugged Tommy’s arm, requesting him to mold another one. Tommy scampered to form mounds as the boy slumped on the sandy ground.
She ceased behind them, her toes sinking into the warm, golden sand. Reena watched her husband and son, the sound of Cleo’s gleeful laughter echoing like tiny bells in the air. As Tommy fixed another sandy mountain for Cleo to kick, the boy’s excitement filled the atmosphere. The grains of sand flew into the air, showering both Tommy and Cleo like a gentle rain of confetti, the sunlight glinting in between.
However, Tommy seemed out of focus, his eyes not on Cleo’s fickle movements but somewhere else.
Is he thinking about what happened earlier?
Reena knew he was lost in his thoughts, and the forlorn look that raked his eyes spoke volumes. Her heart ached to witness him this way, but amidst the guilt, a deeper unrest gnawed inside her, creating a sense of dilemma. She felt as if she were betraying herself by not acknowledging her true feelings.
What do I feel for him?
All of a sudden, Cleo clung to Tommy’s neck, catching him by surprise. The boy’s small hands tugged gently at him, and without hesitation, Tommy wrapped a protective arm around the boy.
“What’s wrong, bud?” he asked.
Cleo pressed a cheek on his shoulder. “Love you, Papa.”
It might have sounded like a yammer, but the heartfelt words struck Reena deeply. Her son was still learning to speak, and yet, he expressed his love for Tommy with such innocence and sincerity.
The words from her son pierced through the barriers of her emotions, causing her eyes to sting with tears. Tommy hugged Cleo even tighter. As he nuzzled against Cleo’s neck, she saw the depth of his devotion as he planted a tender kiss on the boy’s cheeks.
“Love you too, bud…”
Memories of her pregnancy with Cleo flashed like a movie in her mind, recalling how alone she was at that time. Every time Cleo moved, her heart would skip a beat, giving her a mixture of joy and dread. There was no one beside her when she was having morning sickness or someone to knead her legs when she was having cramps. It was just her and Cleo until Tommy came.
Despite Reena’s past aloofness toward Tommy, he never treated Cleo as a burden and treated him as his own son. He showered love and care upon both of them without any reservation. As Reena slowly opened her heart to him, Tommy never wavered in showing her how much she meant to him. His bright smile each morning, his tender kisses that eased her worries, and his strong embrace that promised protection… all these, Reena ought to reciprocate.
Cleo wriggled out of Tommy’s hold; his excitement was evident in his joyful yell as he hurried toward Reena. Tommy looked over his shoulder, their eyes meeting in a moment. He appeared somewhat dumbfounded, but a warm smile played on his lips as he stood up from the sand. Tommy patted his pants, brushing away the clinging grains, and took a step closer to her and Cleo.
Reena smiled from ear to ear, catching her son as he leaped into her arms. “I heard you said you love Papa,” she murmured, burying herself into Cleo’s cheeks. “Mama loves Papa too,” she said, lifting her eyes to Tommy.
It seemed like everything halted around them. The rhythmic sloshing of waves on the shore, the distant squawking of birds, and the gentle whistling of the breeze – all faded into the air. Tommy’s profound surprise mirrored in his gaze as if he couldn’t believe what she’d just said. She thought she saw tears glistening in the corners of his eyes.
A glimmer of hope danced in Reena’s heart. His affectionate smile revealed a vulnerability she’d rarely seen, and it tugged at her heartstrings. The warmth of the sun bathed them in a gentle glow, and she felt a newfound sense of peace, knowing that despite the uncertainties and past struggles, there was something real and true between them.
Tommy stepped closer, his hand reaching out to brush a strand of hair behind her ear. Surrounded by the beauty of the sea, Reena couldn’t deny the feelings that surged within her. Her heart whispered that perhaps, just perhaps, they could find happiness together.
“Let’s go?” she asked, taking his hand, their fingers intertwining. “Dinner’s ready…”
The feast on the table was superb, and as everybody seemed to enjoy the dishes prepared, she basked in the beauty of celebration as she stared at Tommy. She studied him intently – the way he wiped Cleo’s mouth, how he took bites, how he sipped a drink, and how he glanced and smiled at her.
He was holding her hand that had the ring in it. She might not have given him her answer yet, but she knew what her heart was saying.
The day slipped through their fingers. As the night settled in, Reena found herself nestled beside Tommy, his calm breaths a comforting sound. The soft glow of the lamp created a warm and intimate atmosphere, casting a mesmerizing dance of shadows on the wall.
“Come close to me,” she murmured, wanting to feel more of his body pressing on her back.
Tommy slid his arm under the duvet, wrapping it around her body and pulling her close. She clasped his arms, squeezing them toward her chest, planting gentle kisses on his knuckles.
“The doctor said I’m kind of sensitive now, but a hug can make me comfortable…”
“Is that so?” he murmured, and Reena could feel his smile on her head.
Reena nodded and then turned go face him, enveloping him in her embrace, her left arm encircling his body. She could hear Tommy’s steady heartbeat, a gentle rhythm that seemed to synchronize with her own.
“Do you feel better now?”
She stared at him with a dreamy gaze. “Very much…”
He gently pulled himself away from her, looking into her face as his fingers delicately ran through her hair. Cupping her face in his hand, his thumb tenderly stroked her cheeks. “I love your eyes...” His gaze drifted downward to her lips. “I love the way you kiss...” His hand caressed her figure, trailing down to her thigh and lifting her leg to rest above his hip. “I love your body, your skin...”
Reena couldn’t stop a giggle from escaping her lips.
His hand gently traced the path of her cheek. “I love your smile... your laughter... the way you say my name.” His touch was tender, and his voice carried a heartfelt sincerity. “Even your tears. I love everything about you…” Emotion welled up in his gaze, his eyes locking with hers. “I love you, Reena…”
Her heart soared as Tommy uttered those three words for the first time.
“I know that I can never replace Speed–”
She gently placed her finger over his lips, halting his words midway. Then, her fingers moved to caress his cheek, allowing her heart to speak for her.
“I love you, Tommy.”
The beating of her heart was comparable to a glorious firework exploding in space. It was like her mind was gliding and sailing, even higher than the heights they flew.
“I’m not sure if there are angels in heaven, but I’m certain there’s you.”
Reena blithely laughed. “Oh, Tommy…”
Their lips gently met, soft and tender, carrying the weight of the emotions they’d kept buried for so long. As they leaned into each other, their bodies melted together, and their souls entwined as they savored each other’s presence. And to Reena? It was more than she could ask for.
Once their lips parted, Reena allowed the biggest smile to lace her lips. She put her hand on his chest, the one that was wearing the new ring. “Would you like to ask me again?” she whispered.
Reena could feel Tommy’s heartbeat quicken beneath her touch. His eyes locked with hers, and she saw surprise and joy flickering in his gaze. Her heart pounded in anticipation as his lips curved into a tender smile.
“I’ll ask you a million times if I have to,” he murmured, the warmth of his breath brushing against her skin. “But Reena, will you marry me… again?”
Her heart fluttered in nervous excitement. “I will, a million times…”
Notes:
I really love the song "Bed of Roses" by Bon Jovi, and as I wrote this chapter long ago, I remember vividly I was listening to that song. It is heartfelt and sincere and speaks volumes about what love truly is. Not always smooth sailing, but when two hearts find their way to each other, whether they lie on roses or nails, it doesn't matter.
And I love their other songs too! I created my playlist. They were my jam when I was young. My late father used to listen to them. They remind me of him.
Anyway, too much sharing, as if anyone cares lol XD
Thank you so much for reading! <3
Chapter 56: Gains and Losses
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
THE CALM BREEZE drifting in from the open window stirred the office air, rustling the edges of stacked documents pinned down by a round, sea-colored paperweight. Outside, the palm trees swayed under the lingering glow of the post-holiday season. Christmas and New Year’s had come and gone, marking the passage of time, yet to Tommy, it all felt like a seamless present. The heavy curtains rippled like restless wings, catching specks of dust in the golden sunlight.
Umberto’s voice boomed through the room, a thunderous roar of curses and slurs that rattled the space like a lion’s growl. His frustration was palpable, his words rapid-fire Spanish that Tommy barely registered. He knew the Cuban was upset about something – something that should have mattered – but his focus had drifted elsewhere.
His wedding ring.
A glistening band of gold, sparkling under the light, adorned with small diamonds, just like Reena’s. A symbol of their vows, their future, the life they were building together.
“Amigo!” Tommy blinked as Umberto’s voice cut through his trance. “Did you hear what I said?”
No. Not a word. Not since Umberto had stormed into his office, face twisted in aggravation. Tommy knew it had to be bad news. Umberto’s scowl made that clear, but for the first time in his life, it didn’t feel like his concern.
Let him handle it. Let him run the assets. Hell, Tommy could sell him the Cherry Popper Ice Cream Factory at half its worth, toss in Kaufman Cabs if he wanted. The businesses, the empire… he didn’t care about them the way he used to. Print Works would go to Earnest Kelly. Sunshine Autos, Malibu Club, the studio… Steve or that sleazy politician could fight over them. It didn’t matter.
Ever since he and Reena renewed their vows, the hunger for control had faded. The old Tommy Vercetti… the one who had wanted Vice City in the palm of his hand was gone. In his place stood a man who just wanted to be a good husband, a father.
“I’m sorry, what was that again?” Tommy finally asked, shifting his attention back to Umberto.
“Tommy, the truck is missing…” Umberto’s voice wavered with unease. “Kilos of Spank, amigo. Just gone.”
Tommy straightened in his chair, guilt creeping in at his earlier indifference. He understood Umberto’s frustration. If someone had pulled this years ago, he would’ve hunted them down himself. Instead, he leaned forward, trying to summon some of the old instincts.
“We’ll look for leads. Don’t worry about it–”
The office door burst open.
Maude Hanson stood in the doorway, crooked-backed but imposing, a gleaming cane in one hand, Cleo’s small fingers clasped in the other. Dressed in a deep purple blouse and skirt, she looked as severe as ever, except for one glaring contradiction.
She was holding a child.
Reena’s child.
For a moment, all he could do was stare, mouth slightly agape. Of all the people to walk through that door, Maude Hanson had been the last he’d expect to be carrying his son’s tiny hand. The same Maude Hanson who had always carried a notorious distaste for children, who had spent years spewing bitterness at anything remotely soft-hearted. Yet there she was, lowering her cane just enough for Cleo to grasp it, her lips curling ever so slightly.
Tommy shot to his feet. Years of knowing Maude, of knowing how deeply she despised kids, couldn’t prepare him for this surreal moment.
“What the hell are you doing with my boy?”
Maude’s sharp, wrinkled features barely shifted. “Told that Cuban I wanted to talk to you.”
“Señora, I can handle it…” Umberto started.
“No!” Maude snapped, her voice cutting through the room like a whip. Both Tommy and Umberto stiffened in shock. “I need to talk to Tommy Vercetti. You won’t understand what I have to say.”
Reena appeared behind them, her presence immediately softening the tension. She smiled, her hand resting lightly on Maude’s back, a sight Tommy never thought he’d see. Maude didn’t pull away. Instead, she let Reena take Cleo from her hand, even pinching the boy’s cheek with a teasing scrunch of her face.
Tommy blinked again. What the hell was happening?
“I’m sorry,” Reena said, her voice as soothing as ever. “Miss Hanson wanted to see you. Leigh saw her outside the gates, so I told him to let her in.”
Tommy and Umberto exchanged glances. Neither had an answer for this strange turn of events.
With a small sigh, Tommy turned back to Maude and gestured to the couch. “Alright, let’s talk.”
As Tommy helped Maude settle in, Umberto took the opportunity to make his exit, heading toward Reena and Cleo. “I’ll wait downstairs.” Then, with his usual flair, he grinned widely at Reena. “Ah, I’ve never seen a more beautiful pregnant woman in my life!”
Reena laughed, the sound warm and light, making Tommy’s chest tighten with something deep and familiar. Happiness. Love. Security. He followed her gaze to her belly – four and a half months along. Almost five. Every day, his anticipation grew. Earlier, she’d gone for another check-up, promising a surprise for him. She already knew the baby’s gender, and soon, they’d have a small party to reveal it. Would it be a junior or a princess? Either way, Tommy could hardly wait.
“Would you like to come downstairs with me?” Reena asked Umberto, resting a hand on his shoulder. “I’m making drinks for us.”
“Ah, sí!” Umberto grinned and trailed behind her.
Once they left, Tommy turned back to Maude. She had already made herself comfortable, placing her cane beside her and smoothing out her skirt. Despite her age, there was still a sharpness in her stare, her thin, tattooed eyebrows arching slightly as she observed him. The heavy pearl necklace around her throat glimmered, the only sign of indulgence on her otherwise severe form.
Years had added lines to her face, deepening the creases of time. She had no husband. No children. No family. Just the weight of years pressing down on her shoulders. Tommy found himself staring, his mind drifting.
If he had never met Reena… would he have ended up the same? Old, alone, a relic of a time that no longer existed?
The thought sent a chill through him. A reminder of what he could have been.
He shook it off and met Maude’s gaze. “Alright,” he said, settling into his chair. “What can I do for you, Maude?”
“That Cuban wiener wouldn’t understand me,” Maude scoffed, wrinkling her nose. She never missed a chance to insult Umberto, and Tommy had long stopped questioning why. She despised him, despite knowing full well that Tommy let him handle business in Little Havana. “I saw someone in the factory before the truck went missing.”
“Did you tell Umberto about it?”
Her glare sharpened. “Are you deaf?!” she snapped. “I just said he wouldn’t understand!”
Tommy rolled his eyes and exhaled. “Alright, Maude. Then why don’t you tell me what you saw?”
At times, even he was surprised by his patience. Some people got on his nerves faster than a bad deal, but he had a soft spot for the elders, at least the ones who didn’t make his life hell. Maude and Doris? Sure, they were rough around the edges, but Earnest Kelly never gave him trouble. If the old man were here instead, he probably would’ve handled this conversation the same way.
Maude wasn’t done scrutinizing him, though. Her gaze dropped to his hand, brow raising at the ring on his finger. “Looks like you’re very happy. Foolishly happy.”
Foolish didn’t even begin to cover it. Tommy smirked, letting her words linger. He hadn’t even noticed if Umberto had seen the ring, but of course, Maude would pick up on it. The old woman had sharper eyes than most people gave her credit for.
“I remember some nasty crybabies from before,” she continued, her voice dropping into something more serious. “They came to the factory trying to shake down the vendors, saying you owed them money.”
Tommy blinked. It wasn’t the kind of thing he expected her to bring up. For a long time, he figured her memory was going bad. She forgot things often enough, sometimes even why she showed up at the factory, aside from cursing at Umberto. He never thought much of her visits, but this? This stirred something in him.
He kept his face neutral. “Yeah, that was years ago. I took care of them. Remember?”
Maude let out a raspy laugh, like she found something amusing that he didn’t. She got up, hobbled to his desk, and rifled through his drawers until she pulled out a sheet of paper. She took a pen and, squinting hard, started writing. When she finished, she shoved the pen back at him and handed over the paper.
His fingers twitched slightly as he took it.
“That mark when those Italian crybabies showed up,” she said. “Two days ago, I saw a man lurking around the factory. He had that tattoo on his arm.”
Tommy stared at the crude drawing of the symbol. His pulse ticked up. “A man?” he asked, masking the sudden unease creeping up his spine. Clearing his throat, he slid the paper back across the table.
Maude picked it up again, eyes narrowing. “I remember him clearly. Whoever’s sniffing around your business is connected to those old hooligans.”
He braced himself. “You think I should be worried?”
Her eyes flicked to his hands. “With the way your fingers shook, I think you already are.”
Tommy inhaled sharply, his jaw tightening. “Exactly how old are you, Maude?”
She pressed her cane to the floor and pushed herself up. “Old enough to retire,” she quipped.
He stood, running a hand down his face as the weight of her words settled in his gut. The supplier. Colonel Juan Cortez’s warning about a new group moving in. It had been months, hadn’t it? But this didn’t feel like a coincidence.
Maude headed toward the stairs, muttering, “I still hate kids, don’t get mistaken, but I like your wife. Hurts to think she was a baby once, and now she’s having another,” she groaned, throwing a sharp side-eye his way.
Tommy hesitated. “You don’t wanna see another version of me running around?” he asked, forcing a smirk.
Reaching the bottom step, she spun and jabbed a finger into his chest. “I hope that blob gets more of her than you!”
“Miss Hanson, leaving already?”
Tommy turned to see Reena standing in the kitchen doorway. Umberto was beside her, sipping from a glass of cold juice, looking relaxed. Reena held two glasses, eyeing them like she was debating who they belonged to. Before Tommy could respond, Maude pivoted toward Reena, seemingly forgetting she was about to leave.
“Oh, not for you, darling. Let’s go somewhere else!”
Tommy felt his jaw drop as the old woman marched past Umberto, took the juice from Reena, and clung to her arm, leading her away. Reena shot him a small, amused smile, as if to say she’d be fine handling Maude’s company.
Umberto slurped loudly at his drink, draining it down to ice. “So, what did she tell you?”
“A man was watching the factory,” Tommy murmured as Reena and Maude disappeared into the kitchen.
Umberto raised an eyebrow. “That serious?”
Tommy nodded. “Looks like an old enemy.”
Umberto’s expression shifted. “You sure about that?!”
“Keep an eye out in Little Havana,” Tommy ordered. “But this isn’t gonna be easy.”
Umberto hesitated. “What about your wife?”
Tommy shot him a look. “What about her?”
“She’s pregnant. You really want her around while you stir up trouble?”
Tommy clenched his jaw. “You got a suggestion?”
Umberto shrugged. “No sé. Send her somewhere safe while you handle things.”
Tommy considered it. “I have a villa in Vice Point. She could stay there.”
Umberto shook his head. “Still too close. If this is serious, you don’t want her in Vice City at all.”
Tommy exhaled. He knew Umberto was right. He couldn’t risk Reena seeing him shed more blood. He didn’t want his enemies to know about her, Cleo, or their baby. If they ever did, they’d have him on his knees.
Sliding his hands from his pockets, he clapped Umberto’s shoulder. “Gracias, amigo. I’ll think about it.”
From across the room, Reena’s laughter rang out, blending with Maude’s. Tommy found himself smiling, but that sinking feeling in his gut refused to fade.
The rest of the day passed by swiftly. Reena invited Maude to stay, but the old woman refused, saying she had to go back to the factory and do her rounds because Tommy was too indolent to do so. Dinner with his family was filled with laughter and joy, especially with Umberto around, but his mind kept drifting back to the mysterious man with the tattoo that Maude had talked about.
He couldn’t shake it off. He just couldn’t.
As the night progressed, Tommy found himself unable to sleep. He tossed and turned, his mind racing with thoughts of the Cherry Popper Ice Cream Factory, the missing truck, and the possible danger looming over his family. He glanced at the clock. Ten past two in the morning. The bedroom was wrapped in darkness, and Reena slept soundly beside him.
Then, the shrill ringing of his phone cut through the silence. Tommy’s heart jolted, his fingers instinctively snatching the device before the noise stirred Reena awake. The screen flashed Umberto, and immediately, dread settled in his gut.
“Hello?” His voice came out hoarse, thick with exhaustion.
“Tommy! Something happened to the factory!” Umberto’s voice was sharp, urgent. “You need to get down here right now!”
A cold wave ran through him. “I’ll be right there.”
Adrenaline kicked in, shoving fatigue aside. He swung his legs off the bed and started dressing hastily, but his movements weren’t lost on Reena.
She stirred, turning onto her side, her drowsy eyes narrowing at him as he pulled his pants on. “What’s going on?”
“I have to go. Something’s happened.” He kept his voice steady, hiding the undercurrent of tension. “Go back to sleep.” Leaning down, he pressed a quick kiss to her forehead.
She frowned but didn’t protest, curling back under the sheets with a sigh.
~~~~~~~~~~
By the time Tommy arrived at the factory, the stench of burnt metal and blood hung thick in the air. Smoke still curled in the night sky, illuminated by the flashing red and blue of emergency lights. The wail of sirens and the chatter of officers set a grim atmosphere.
Yellow police tape wrapped the entrance, a feeble attempt to keep intruders at bay. Tommy didn’t hesitate. He grabbed the tape and snapped it in one swift motion, stepping inside the war zone.
The destruction was evident from the first glance. The vaults had been blown open, the office ransacked, the fireproof cabinets reduced to heaps of twisted metal. The ice cream trucks – his trucks – were nothing but scorched husks.
And then there were the bodies.
Lined up, covered in sheets, with pools of blood seeping into the concrete beneath them.
Tommy felt his jaw tighten, his hand clenching into a fist. Whoever did this hadn’t just come to steal. They’d come to send a message.
He pulled his phone out and checked for messages. A couple of texts from Reena. A missed call.
Taking a slow breath, he dialed her number and brought the phone to his ear.
It rang once. Twice. Then, she picked up.
“Where did you go?” Her voice was soft, laced with sleep.
“Little Havana,” he murmured, eyes scanning the wreckage. “Why are you awake?”
“Why?” Her tone sharpened, suddenly alert. “Because you just left… and you’re not beside me.”
Something in him eased at the sound of her voice. Even in the middle of all this, she was still waiting for him. Still thinking of him.
“Don’t worry,” he said. “I’ll be quick. Go back to sleep, alright?”
“You should be here when I open my eyes.”
Her words gave him pause. A part of him wanted to tell her Of course, I will. That he wanted nothing more than to lie beside her, to fall asleep with her warmth pressed against him, to wake up to the sight of her face.
But then he looked around. At the blood. The destruction. The smoldering remains of what was once his business.
How the hell was he supposed to handle things if she always needed him to be right there?
He could barely take a step without her noticing. Could barely leave without her missing him. It was sweet, sure. It was love. But love wasn’t enough to keep him sharp, to keep their world from crumbling around them.
She needed him. But right now, he needed to be ruthless.
Umberto was right.
She had to leave. Just for a while.
Only then could he focus.
“I’ll be,” he finally said, his voice even. A promise, or maybe just a white lie. “I love you.”
He pocketed his phone before she could say more, forcing his mind back to the chaos before him.
Then, the gates screeched open.
Tommy turned, watching as Umberto strode in with Rico, Pepe, and a handful of Cubans. His expression was dark, unreadable, but not surprised.
“Four truck drivers are dead. Three more in the hospital.” Umberto’s voice was gruff as he stepped over a bloodied patch of ground. He gestured toward the corner, where something charred still stood. “Looks like it started there.”
Tommy followed his gaze, running a hand along the stubble on his chin. “Yeah… I think so.”
Umberto pulled out a handkerchief, covering his nose as they passed the bodies. “I love barbecue, but not this kind.”
Tommy barely heard him. His mind was already calculating, already shifting gears. If it was a message, he needed to answer back. If it was a move, he needed to make his own.
Before Tommy could respond, Marcus ran up, his usually stoic face tight with urgency.
“Boss!” His voice cut through the noise like a gunshot. “It’s Miss Hanson…”
Tommy’s stomach dropped. “What about her?”
“She was rushed to the hospital.”
A heavy pause. Then, Tommy exhaled through his nose. It wasn’t shocking. Maude was old. A heart attack, maybe.
“Send someone to cover her hospital fees. Private room–”
“She was here when the attack happened.”
The words hit him harder than expected. Tommy and Umberto exchanged looks, their faces frozen in mutual horror.
~~~~~~~~~~
Everything about the hospital reeked of bleach and antiseptic, the fluorescent lights casting an artificial glow over the linoleum floors. The distant hum of machines, the murmur of voices, the occasional rustle of movement… it all blurred together as Tommy stepped into Maude’s room.
She lay motionless on the bed, her skin ashen, her right side covered in burns. Tubes snaked from her arms, and a ventilator did the breathing for her. The sight turned Tommy’s stomach.
Maude was old, sure. But she was Maude. Tough as nails. The woman who could wield a cane like a weapon and curse out a room full of men without blinking.
Now, she looked… frail.
A man stood beside her, eyes red-rimmed. Middle-aged. Family resemblance.
“You’re Maude’s nephew?” Tommy asked, his voice low.
The man nodded, gaze locked on his aunt. “Yeah. She talked about you… said you bought the factory.” His voice wavered, thick with something unspoken.
Tommy exhaled, rubbing his jaw. “She’s tough. She’ll pull through.”
The man swallowed hard. “They got her from the office…” His hand clenched into a fist. “The EMTs said she kept saying a name.”
Tommy slowly turned to him. “What name?”
The man hesitated before meeting Tommy’s gaze, his expression shadowed with uncertainty.
“They said she kept repeating… Forelli.”
The name sat between them, heavy as a loaded gun.
Tommy’s fingers twitched at his side.
It wasn’t just a hit.
It was personal.
And now, it was war.
Notes:
Thank you so much for reading! <3
Chapter 57: The Discussion
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
THE SOFT RAYS of the afternoon sun gently filtered through the curtains, and Reena found herself standing in the doorway of Tommy’s office, a faint frown creasing her forehead. Umberto and some men came to the estate, discussing something with Tommy in private. They stayed there the entire morning, and Mrs. Hubbard told her that she smelled someone smoking.
She was right. It was a disaster.
When Tommy kissed her goodbye, she wanted to ask him where he was going, but the urgency in his actions made her hold her tongue back. With Umberto, he left the estate, not telling her what time he’d be coming home.
It was a routine she’d grown accustomed to for the past week – cleaning up after her husband’s worksessions. The sight that met her eyes was all too familiar – scattered papers, empty bottles, and the lingering scent of stale tobacco in the air. Tommy always told her to leave the office, not wanting her to lift a finger. He even forbade her to work in the showroom again since he learned about her pregnancy.
The more she had nothing to do, the more she felt dying of boredom.
“Tommy, Tommy,” she sighed softly to herself, picking up the remnants of his long hours spent toiling away at his desk. It felt just like yesterday when Tommy refused to leave her side, and now, he was leaving at such unholy hours, too late at night and too early in the morning, without so much as a word to her about where he was going or what he was up to.
Despite trying to deny it, Reena’s concern about her husband’s activities kept on growing.
Pregnancy had added a new layer of worry to her life. As she cradled her growing belly, she couldn’t help but wonder if there was more to Tommy’s behavior than met the eye. Perhaps he was just preoccupied with work, but the uncertainty gnawed at her like a persistent itch she couldn’t scratch. Her doctor said her pregnancy was a sensitive one, and as much as possible, she had to refrain from getting stressed out and doing harrowing physical activities, including being intimate with her husband.
She wondered if Tommy was becoming tired of not having his desires satisfied.
As she tidied up the mess, Reena’s mind began to wander. She understood that his job was something else, but the lack of explanation on his part left her feeling disconnected and anxious. Why wouldn’t he just tell her what was going on, so she didn’t have to think this way?
Maybe, it was just the pregnancy hormones.
Reena pressed a hand on her forehead as she forced herself to let go of her unfounded inhibitions.
Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a soft chuckle, making her turn around. There was Cleo, marching into the office with Mrs. Hubbard standing just behind him. Reena smiled as she saw her little bundle of joy, momentarily easing her worries.
“Hi baby…” she cooed, walking over to pick him up in her arms. “You always make Mama feel better.”
Cleo giggled in response, his innocent laughter bringing a sense of comfort to Reena’s heart. She held him close, planting a kiss on his bubbly cheek, but her concerns about Tommy still lingered in the back of her mind.
“Why, dear, is something bothering you?” Mrs. Hubbard inquired, giving her a puzzling look.
Reena blushed as she shook her head, determined not to let the old woman worry about her senseless musings. “No, Mrs. Hubbard, I just… I guess I’ve been fussing too much.”
Mrs. Hubbard nodded gently as if she understood despite her limited response. “I see. I think Mr. Vercetti’s also having some troubles. Last night, I saw him looking so spent while he walked to your room.”
Reena cast her a glance. “Spent?”
“Yes, well… he looked tired, and his clothes. Mr. Vercetti always pays attention to the way he appears, but he doesn’t seem to be much of himself lately.”
It was true. Tommy was the kind of man who always made sure he was presentable, but then, it all started that day when he left at a very early hour in the morning after receiving a phone call. For several days since then, even when they were together, he was always zoning out. Mrs. Hubbard’s statement aligned with Reena’s own observations too. If something was happening to Tommy, she’d know it by the way he looked.
What’s going on with him?
“By the way, would you like me to make you a cup of tea?” Mrs. Hubbard offered with an unsuspicious smile. “Can make you relax...”
Reena pursed her lips in agreement. “Thank you, Mrs. Hubbard.”
The old woman left the office. With Cleo in her arms, Reena returned to the desk, her cleaning now accompanied by the looming thought of her husband’s troubles.
She grabbed two empty bottles of brandy on the coffee table and a half-filled bottle of scotch, holding the neck of the bottles in between her fingers.
“You’ve been drinking a lot again,” she murmured to herself.
Reena took a plastic bag and chucked into it all the trash she found on his desk and coffee table, wiping their surfaces clean and ready for him to work on again while she carried Cleo in the other arm. As she moved around, she noticed one of his drawers open, so she closed it, but something buzzed inside.
Her curiosity was piqued. Feeling her inquisitiveness growing, she pulled the drawer open. There were piles of papers scattered all over, but at the far end of it was a burner phone that she hadn’t seen before.
“Tommy had another phone?” she asked herself. Taking the device, she examined what it was for. An old model compared to what he used and gave her. She pressed a button, but nothing came out. The phone had died, thus, the sound.
She thought of looking for the charger, and she didn’t know why, but intrigue twinged in her chest so loud she couldn’t get a hold of herself. Tommy had never given her any reason to doubt, and perhaps, this phone she’d found was something he used for work, or where he’d keep important transactions, messages, and whatnot. Reena found herself making an excuse, and with all her strength, she slid it back in, concealing the device beneath the papers and pushing the drawer close.
Grabbing the bottles once again together with the plastic bag, she walked out of the office. Her gaze fell onto the stairs. The nerves in her temples pulsated, the beating of her heart raced, and the sensation of something defiant in her stomach grew.
All these thoughts… they meant nothing. She shouldn’t think so much about them.
As she climbed down the stairs to meet Mrs. Hubbard in the kitchen, Reena heard a familiar rumbling noise outside. She marched across the foyer, feeling the strain in her arm that held Cleo and stood by the doorway to see if her husband had come home.
Tommy stepped out of the Cheetah, his weariness was evident, and a forced smile barely graced his lips as he glanced at Reena. He hurriedly ascended the concrete steps, reaching the landing where she and Cleo waited. He gave them brief kisses, but his embrace lacked the usual warmth, leaving Reena longing for more, attempting to hold on a little longer, only to be met with Tommy’s withdrawal.
Something was amiss, leaving her with unanswered questions and a growing sense of unease.
Noticing the plastic bag she was holding and the bottles that clanked inside it, Tommy’s face churned. “Did you clean my office again?”
Reena shrugged her shoulders. “I got nothing to do. And your office’s filthy.”
“I’m sorry,” he murmured, the coldness in his tone apparent. Tommy took Cleo from her arm, relieving her of the boy’s weight. “Come here, buddy. You don’t want Mama getting so tired, do you?”
With a gentle touch, Tommy guided Reena toward the entrance, his hand resting on the small of her back. As they stepped inside, she noticed the way he smelled. The scent of his cologne was still there, but it was accompanied by a new fragrance – a subtle aroma of roses. It was as if he’d spent the day in a room filled with the very essence of that fragrance, leaving it to linger on his shirt and his skin.
Reena couldn’t put her finger on it, but this added to the questions she had about her husband’s recent behavior, deepening her curiosity and concern even further. She wondered where he’d been all afternoon and what might be causing this shift in him, silently hoping that he’d open up to her and share whatever was weighing on his mind.
She cast him a curious glance, trying to read his thoughts, but Reena couldn’t see anything.
Maybe, she was just overthinking, but it felt like all the reasons she could muster were not enough to settle her silent turmoil.
And then again, as she struggled to let go of her defiant wonders, Tommy left once more after dinner. She saw him taking a phone call in his office right after he left the table, and with a swift goodbye, he gave her a peck on the cheek and told her not to wait for him anymore.
But the stubborn her couldn’t be told what to do.
Thirty minutes past midnight when Tommy came back, and she was leaning on her pillow with a book on her stomach. He seemed surprised to see her still awake, putting a hand on his waist and standing on one leg.
“Well, how hard-headed you are,” he commented, a slight hint of frustration lingering in his voice. “I told you not to stay up too late.”
“I can’t sleep,” she murmured, thinking desperately of what she should do. She almost crumpled the book in her hands when Tommy took his clothes off and went inside the bathroom.
In a hurry, Reena stood, grabbing his shirt that lay on the floor and smelling them. Indeed, there was the scent she caught earlier, but it smelled weaker now. He scoured Tommy’s pockets, looking for something she couldn’t point out until she realized that what she was doing was pathetic.
Reena felt ashamed of herself. Biting her lip, she folded his discarded clothes and placed them on the chair. With a sinking feeling in her stomach, she retreated to the bed, sliding herself beneath the sheets.
Tommy came out of the bathroom, his hair and body still dripping from his recent shower. With a quick selection, he grabbed loose-fitting trousers and put them on before sliding beside her on the bed. From the drawer to his side, Tommy took his eyeglasses and a magazine that he seldom read. He rested his back against the pillow and began flipping the pages.
Yet, it didn’t take long for him to stare at nowhere.
Reena put her book down and removed the blanket that covered her legs. She crawled up toward him, snapping him out of his daze. Tommy welcomed her on his lap with a smile, tossing the magazine to the side, although she could feel that beneath his beam was something he ought to hide.
She sat on him with her legs apart, knees sinking on the mattress. Reena put her arms around Tommy’s neck and gently kissed his forehead, then down to his nose, and further to his cusps. His shoulders relaxed once their lips met, and his limbs wrapped around her, embracing likewise. After their mouths parted, she smiled, tilting her head to the side.
“I’m sorry if I stayed awake…” she said, holding onto his shoulders. “You look cute in your eyeglasses, but I don’t believe your eyes are failing.”
He seemed to force a chuckle, his fingers digging into the back of her waist. “Aren’t they?” he asked, gazing at her mischievously. “I wanna see you more clearly, that’s why.” Tommy leaned forward and planted a kiss on her neck, then cupped her face, looking up at her with glimmering eyes.
“Is something bothering you?” she finally asked.
He paused for a moment, and after what felt like a fleeting time, Tommy dipped his chin and pressed his face against her chest. The cold frames of the eyeglasses touched her skin, but she didn’t mind. Her husband’s gesture dispelled all the senselessness she felt, making her more worried for him instead. If only she had asked what his problem was at the very start, she wouldn’t have all those wrong ideas she planted in her head.
Tommy sighed heavily, his breath flaring against her skin. “We got a threat in the factory, so we gotta be more alert. And Maude’s in the hospital. She was there in the factory when the attack happened.”
Reena gasped, the news taking her by surprise. “Is she okay?”
“Doctors said it’s not sure if she’ll ever wake up.”
Her chest sank. It had only been a few days since Maude came to the estate. Reena remembered their conversation vividly – Maude casually talking to her about her life as a businesswoman, fending for herself all alone. She even said how she regretted not living the best years of her life, telling Reena that she should take advantage of her moment in having a good family and life with Tommy. It broke her heart to know what happened, and she wished that Maude would recover.
She leaned at Tommy, his eyes closing in response to her gentle kiss on the side of his face. As she felt the warmth of his skin against her lips, Reena couldn’t help but chastise herself for ever doubting him. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know…” she whispered, her heart filled with remorse.
His embrace around her body tightened, pressing himself further into her bosom. Her fingers traced the path across his cheek, realizing that Tommy needed her understanding more in these tough times.
“There are some things that can’t be fixed anymore...” he murmured, his breaths slowing down. “I don’t want them getting in the way of my dreams for you… for us.”
Her heart melted at his words. Reena buried her nose into his hair, breathing in his sorrow. “Is there anything I can do to help you?”
Tommy sat up and softly rubbed her back, a gesture that seemed to convey a subtle invitation for her to shift from his lap. Reena did so, and Tommy stood from the bed, walking toward the couch where his folded and discarded clothes lay beside his bag. He retrieved something from it, then he walked back to the bed and sat beside her, giving her an envelope.
“Tell me what you think about it,” he smiled faintly, his eyes falling to the packet in her hands.
Without a second thought, Reena opened the envelope, finding a document with colored pictures of a beautiful estate. Beneath the picture was a short description of the property, which Reena read aloud.
“Nestled amid the arid landscape of Prickle Pine, Las Venturas stood the Desert Serenity Manor, an oasis of opulence and wonder in the vast desert expanse. This magnificent estate seemed to emerge like a mirage, a beacon of grandeur rising from the golden dunes. With its ivory walls adorned with intricate carvings and majestic archways that seemed to reach for the sky, the mansion exuded an otherworldly charm that captivated all who laid eyes upon it.”
She flipped through the pages and found the other pictures that detailed the property’s features. The entrance was flanked by majestic date palms with lush green fronds, offering a refreshing contrast to the surrounding sandy terrain. There was a breathtaking courtyard, where a mosaic fountain captured with crystalline water reflected the sun’s rays like a kaleidoscope of colors.
The interior didn’t disappoint as well. Through the elaborately crafted wooden doors was a grand foyer adorned with ornate tapestries and golden chandeliers. The heart of the mansion was an expansive atrium. It was even more massive than the foyer in the estate. In the pictures that followed, it showed what the hall looked like both day and night. Its glass dome allowed sunlight to stream in during the day and unveiled a stunning starlight panorama at night.
To its back, a sprawling terrace offered a view of the vast desert landscape, where the mesmerizing hues of sunset painted the horizon in a breathtaking display. Beyond the terrace, a garden unfurled, where an array of exotic desert blooms flourished.
Reena found herself gazing in awe at each picture she looked at. “This is beautiful…”
“It is, but not as beautiful as you…” Tommy pointed at the garden, casting her an ardent gaze. “We can build a shed there, and you can plant your flowers.”
As soon as she heard Tommy’s words, Reena fixed her gaze on him, her eyes wide with surprise. “What do you mean?”
On her lap, Tommy lay his head. Close to her belly, he lifted his hand and caressed the spot where their baby was. “I don’t wanna live this way anymore, not now when our family’s growing.” He snuggled closer to her belly, wrapping an arm around her waist and pressing his lips on her baby bump. “Let’s leave Vice City.”
Reena’s heart skipped a beat, and a whirlwind of emotions swirled within her. Vice City had been their home, a place where they’d built memories, and leaving it behind felt like venturing into the unknown.
“What about your businesses here, your assets? Everything?”
“I can sell them all. I’ve saved enough money to stop doing this shit.”
“Tommy,” Reena called out worriedly. “I think you’re making a hasty decision–”
“No, no I’m not.” He grabbed her hand and pressed its back on his lips. “I want us to go far away.”
As she looked into Tommy’s eyes, she saw a glimmer that she couldn’t ignore. His words, though concise, were filled with dreams of a new life, a fresh start, away from the life he used to live here in the South. And Reena? She couldn’t deny she wanted it too.
No more merchandise. No more dealerships. No more secret meetings and rendezvous. Just her, Tommy, and their children.
The shrinking feeling in her chest subsided, and her heartbeat thumped softly. She clasped Tommy’s hand tighter as a smile found its way to her lips. The way he smiled back at her was comforting like the warm ray of the sun calming the raging seas. A promise that couldn’t be broken. A smile so loving that took her breath away. A profound faith, just like how he stood by her side when Claude disappeared from her life.
A surge of anticipation tingled in her veins, and she found herself smiling at the possibilities that lay ahead. The idea of their new home, a haven away from the hustle and bustle of Vice City, offered a chance for renewal.
Together, they’d embrace this new beginning, weave new memories, and create a life filled with love, wonder, and dreams.
If Claude were here, he’d be happy for us, right?
With a resolute heart, Reena let herself immerse in their future, forgetting everything that made her second-guess.
“As long as we’re together, we can go and live anywhere we want…”
Notes:
Thank you so much for reading <3
Chapter 58: Retrieval
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
THE AIRPORT TERMINAL buzzed with life. Families clung to each other, some teary-eyed, others laughing through their goodbyes. Suitcases rattled across polished tiles, and the PA system chimed with flight announcements, breaking through the steady hum of conversation. Beyond the massive glass windows, planes taxied down the runway, engines roaring, sending faint tremors through the floor.
None of it mattered to Tommy.
His focus stayed on Reena and Cleo. Reena crouched to distract their son, her voice gentle, soothing, while Mrs. Hubbard stood nearby, offering smiles and soft words of encouragement. A few feet away, Marcus and Leigh hauled their luggage toward check-in.
“I want Papa!” Cleo suddenly wailed, his little face scrunched in frustration, his eyes glossy with unshed tears.
“Papa will follow,” Reena assured him, then glanced over her shoulder at Tommy. “Right, Papa?”
He forced a grin, nodding. The lie settled in his throat like a stone.
He knelt, ruffling Cleo’s hair. “I’ll be there before you know it, bud.” The words felt weightless and useless, but he kissed Cleo’s cheek anyway.
The boarding call rang out.
Reena looked back at him. She was searching for something – reassurance, certainty – but Tommy wasn’t sure he had any to give. He wanted to tell her everything. Wanted to prepare her for what was coming, warn her of the dangers he was about to dive headfirst into.
But he couldn’t.
Not when she was about to leave, not when she deserved the peace he could no longer afford.
Liberty City wasn’t the best idea. Sure, he could send his wife somewhere else, but where? Farther? Unfamiliar? At least, there would be Asuka Kasen and her old friends.
If circumstances were different, he’d never let them set foot in that city again. But with the ice cream truck finally located and the meeting he planned to crash, sending them away made sense. Liberty City was far, far enough from the storm about to break in Vice. As long as they stayed away from Portland, Joey Leone would never know they were there. And they’d never get close enough to him.
“Enjoy yourself,” Tommy said, brushing his knuckles against her cheek. “Promise, I’ll follow as soon as I can.”
A shadow of doubt flickered in her eyes. “I’ll call you when we land, okay?”
The second boarding call sounded.
Tommy’s smile faltered. He pulled them into a tight embrace, but Cleo clung to him, refusing to let go. Reena had to pry the boy’s arms from around his neck.
“I love you both,” Tommy whispered, his voice low, strained.
“We love you too.”
Before Cleo could burst into tears, Reena turned and headed toward the gate. Tommy stood there, watching, his chest hollowing as they disappeared from sight.
Marcus and Leigh approached.
“Keep me updated. Don’t let them out of your sight,” Tommy ordered.
“Yes, Boss.”
They followed after Reena and Cleo, disappearing into the crowd.
And then it was quiet.
Or maybe it wasn’t. Maybe the terminal was just as loud, just as busy, but to Tommy, the moment they were gone, their absence pressed against his ribs.
His phone buzzed.
Umberto.
Tommy sighed and answered. “I’ll meet you at the factory–”
“Where the hell are you, amigo?!” Umberto’s panicked voice cut him off. “We’re back at the old warehouse. Date prisa!”
Tommy exhaled sharply. He took one last glance at the gate before shoving the phone into his pocket and walking away.
The sky turned against him as Tommy drove toward the Cherry Popper Ice Cream Factory. Heavy clouds rolled in, swallowing the last hints of blue, thick with the weight of an oncoming storm. The once-warm breeze turned sharp, cutting through the air like a blade. It felt like the world was warning him. A bad omen.
He tightened his grip on the wheel.
His mind drifted to Maude Hanson. Every day brought the same grim news. She might not make it. The doctors watched her like hawks, monitoring vitals, whispering among themselves, but the truth was clear: she was slipping. She hadn’t woken up. Her body barely clung to life.
Tommy scoffed under his breath. Since when did he give a damn about that psycho? He had no idea. But here he was, keeping her alive, paying off her medical bills like some devoted relative. Maybe it was guilt. Maybe it was just unfinished business.
The thought left a bitter taste in his mouth as he turned onto the abandoned road behind the factory.
The place stretched out before him – barren, lifeless. Just a dirt lot and rusting remnants of a past long gone. His chest constricted as he slowed to a stop, parking in front of a decaying old building.
It started drizzling the moment he stepped out.
Tommy moved through the back gate, ducking under sagging chicken wire to slip inside the perimeter. His shoes crunched against dirt and gravel, the faint patter of rain tapping against rusted metal.
Up ahead, Umberto, Rico, and Pepe stood with a small cluster of Los Cabrones and Vercetti Gang members. Tension clung to the group. No idle chatter. No jokes. Just grim faces.
Umberto broke away, marching toward him. Pissed. This wasn’t the usual boisterous Cuban, the one always cracking jokes and strutting like he owned the world. No, this Umberto looked like hell itself had cursed him.
“What took you so long?” he snapped. “You said you’d be at the café first thing in the morning–”
“Relax.” Tommy kept his voice even, but he wasn’t exactly calm either. He felt the same unease gnawing at him. “I took Reena to the airport. Had to make sure she and Cleo got out before we do this.”
Umberto’s face twisted. “She left Vice City?”
Tommy gave a stiff nod. “Now quit wasting time. Tell me what the hell we’re dealing with.”
Umberto exhaled sharply, running a hand down his face. “It’s what you said. An old enemy’s making moves.”
“Forellis,” Tommy muttered as they walked toward the others.
“Hard to say, but something’s cooking.” Umberto glanced around, stretching his neck like he could sniff out trouble in the air. “Doris told me some VC Cabs drivers are getting aggressive.”
Tommy’s brows furrowed. “VC Cabs? What the hell do they have to do with this?”
“The company got sold. New owner.”
Tommy scoffed, shaking his head. “They never learn, do they?” His voice was low, tight.
“No. And if I had to guess, they’re pissed at you.”
Tommy took a slow, measured breath. His territory. His city. His goddamn empire. These bastards thought they could take it from him?
“I don’t give a shit,” he said flatly. “Vice City’s mine as long as I’m here.”
He signaled for Rico and Pepe. Rico immediately got to work, gathering stones of different sizes to map out the target zone in the dirt. With a stick, he carved lines, marking vantage points, chokeholds, and blind spots. He pointed to Tommy and Umberto’s position first, then traced the paths for the rest of the crew.
“Stay hidden,” Rico warned. “No puedo permitirme cometer errores.”
Tommy gave him a firm nod.
They went over every detail again. Who would move where, where the exits were, when to strike. No room for error. No second chances.
Then, as if on cue, the storm broke.
The skies split open, and rain came pouring down in torrents.
Without a word, they piled into their cars, heading toward the rendezvous point.
This was it.
The city was about to bleed again.
Lightning tore across the sky, splitting the darkness in jagged streaks. Thunder rolled, deep and violent, shaking the city like a distant explosion. Winds howled through the skeletons of rusted-out cars as Tommy and Umberto pulled into the junkyard – a graveyard of metal and decay tucked away near Little Haiti.
A sea of wreckage stretched before them. Twisted car frames stacked high, their metal bones eaten by rust. Broken machinery, shattered glass, and discarded tires littered the dirt paths, slick with rain and oil. Above, seagulls scavenged through the filth, their shrieks lost in the wind. The air reeked of burnt rubber, gasoline, and something foul, like rot, like death.
The perfect place for a deal like this.
Umberto eased the car between two towering mounds of junk, the exact spot Rico had marked. Tommy’s gaze landed on something familiar. Blackened, warped metal. Melted plastic. The remains of his truck.
His chest tightened. That truck had once been a bright, cheery lie, a disguise for something far darker. Now, it was nothing but a charred corpse.
“That’s your truck, amigo,” Umberto muttered. “Lost to oblivion.”
Tommy’s phone vibrated.
The sudden jolt snapped him from his trance. He reached into his pocket, glancing at the screen. Reena.
His thumb flicked across the screen without hesitation. “Hey, sweetheart.” His voice softened instinctively. “How’s your trip?”
A quiet sigh came from the other end. “We’re fine. I slept the whole way. Cleo was good, but he’s cranky now…”
Tommy leaned back in his seat, a faint smirk playing on his lips. Umberto gave him a sharp look. Seriously? Now? Tommy ignored him.
“Where are you now?”
“Shoreside Vale,” Reena murmured, then hesitated. “I wanted to ask you something…”
“What is it?”
“Can I… go to Newport? See Asuka?”
Tommy’s jaw tensed. His eyes flicked up as a black sedan tore into the junkyard, tires slicing through puddles, kicking up filth. The car skidded to a stop, and men in dark suits stepped out, rain dripping from their shoulders. Duffle bags. Handguns.
Tommy pressed the phone closer to his ear, watching them disappear deeper into the junkyard. “Newport?” His voice was even, calculated. His gaze flicked to his watch. 1:54 PM. “Isn’t that too close to Portland?”
“I know, but it’s been so long…” Her voice was quieter now, tinged with something else. Nostalgia, maybe sadness. “I just wanna see them, but if it’s not–”
“You just gotta be careful,” Tommy cut in. “That’s all I ask.”
Another vehicle arrived, a van this time. Its engine roared over the storm before screeching to a halt. The doors flew open, and more men spilled out. This group was rougher. Sloppier. Bigger guns. Suitcases in their hands.
“I promise,” Reena assured him. “I want to see 8-Ball, too. It’s been years. He hasn’t seen Cleo since he was a baby.”
Umberto’s elbow jabbed into Tommy’s ribs. He didn’t need to say anything. His wide-eyed stare screamed Hang up, now.
Tommy rolled his eyes, lifting a single finger. One sec.
His focus locked onto the men below. The exchange had started. The men in suits unzipped a duffle bag. It contained stacks of green bills, crisp and clean. The other group cracked open their cases – something heavier.
Umberto cursed under his breath and reached for his rifle.
Tommy exhaled. “Listen, sweetheart, I gotta go.” His voice dropped, slipping back into something cold. “I’ll call you when I can. Take it easy today, okay?”
“Okay. I love you.”
Tommy didn’t answer. He just ended the call and shoved his phone under the dashboard.
His fingers wrapped around the Uzi. The metal was ice-cold, slick against his palm. The moment his grip tightened, the world shifted. No more distractions. No more waiting.
The first gunshot cracked through the night.
Chaos erupted.
Tommy and Umberto lunged for cover as bullets ripped through metal, kicking up rust and dirt. Screams. Curses. West side. Gunfire rained down on them.
Their cover was blown.
Tommy sprinted, boots splashing through puddles, bolting up a rusted staircase. The hinges screeched beneath his weight, metal groaning in protest. He barely cleared the last step before two men appeared below.
No hesitation.
Tommy swung the Uzi up – fire tore through them. Two shots. Two bodies. Blood sprayed across the pavement as their lifeless forms collapsed, staining the rain-soaked ground.
Thunder roared overhead, echoing the chaos. Water streamed from higher platforms, washing blood down into the grime and filth.
Tommy pressed his back against a stack of crates, breathing hard. He peeked, spotted movement – another target. He fired twice, dropping a man in a suit.
Explosions erupted from the platform above.
Umberto ducked beside him, panting. He shoved a rifle into Tommy’s hands. “You’re gonna need this more.”
Tommy grabbed it, rolling his shoulders. He braced the stock against him, stepping into the open. Gunfire cracked, the storm swallowing the screams. The men in suits dropped like dominoes.
Click. Empty.
Tommy didn’t stop moving. He tore his other Uzi from its holster, cocked it back, and charged forward.
A man appeared on the far ramp.
Tommy fired. One. Two. Gone.
Rain poured in relentless sheets, drowning out the echoes of death. The fight wasn’t over.
But Vice City was still his.
An engine roared from behind.
Tommy twisted his head, rain blurring his vision, but the sight made his stomach drop. Another van, barreling into the compound.
The doors flew open. More men. More guns.
His gaze snapped to Umberto, whose face was a mirror of dread.
They were getting boxed in.
Tommy’s grip tightened around his Uzi. His heart slammed against his ribs, not from fear, but from the bitter truth that flashed in his mind.
“No matter what happens, make sure Reena gets my fucking body.”
He shoved Umberto aside and opened fire.
The assailants returned fire instantly. Bullets whizzed past, slamming into metal and concrete. Something hot ripped through his thigh. Another seared his shoulder.
Pain surged through his body like a wildfire.
His stance buckled. He dropped to a knee.
The Uzi felt heavier in his hands now. The rain blurred the blood pooling beneath him, but Tommy knew he was surrounded.
A scoff left his lips. He couldn’t help it.
Harwood. That night. The rain. The betrayal. It felt the same.
A suited man stepped forward. The leader. He murmured something to the others, and they fanned out, securing the area.
Tommy stayed kneeling, drenched, bleeding, glaring up at him.
“You must be the guy,” the man sneered. “Guess you found the old woman. She dead?”
Tommy’s blood boiled. His fingers twitched around the grip of his Uzi. “You’ll die first.” He said, his voice hoarse and low. Deadly.
But the man laughed.
Then, a fist slammed into Tommy’s jaw.
Stars exploded in his vision. His head snapped sideways, a sickening crack echoing in his skull.
Fuck. That was a hard hit.
He hit the ground, water seeping into his wounds, mixing with blood. Pain roared through his skull. Not numb. Not yet.
“We hear you don’t like people touching your stuff.” The man squatted beside him, grinning. “Our boss doesn’t either. She doesn’t want anyone near her building, yet you did.”
A boot rammed into his gut.
Tommy curled, gasping, coughing. His fingers dug into the soaked gravel, slick with grime and blood. He lifted his head, vision swimming.
He hadn’t felt this vulnerable in years.
No. Not vulnerable. Weak.
Not with anyone else. Only her.
Reena.
She was the only one who could put him down. The only one who could make him hesitate, make him second-guess his instincts.
And he’d been right to send her away.
He couldn’t go home like this.
Something metallic filled his mouth. Blood. His. It dripped into the dirt, swirling in the rain.
Footsteps approached. Shiny black dress shoes.
Tommy forced himself up onto his forearm. His body screamed in protest, but he needed to see the bastard who would dare look down at him.
The leader unbuttoned his sleeves, rolling them up to his elbows. The casual ease of a man who thought he already won.
He pulled out a pistol, cocked it. Aimed it between Tommy’s eyes.
Cold steel. Empty black. Nothingness staring back at him.
Tommy’s breath slowed. His pulse hammered in his ears.
Had he rushed into this?
Had he lost control?
Had he gotten so caught up in taking back what was his – his stolen merchandise, his city, his goddamn reputation – that he didn’t see this coming?
Did he enjoy Reena’s voice enough?
Was that their last call?
Bang.
The suited man collapsed.
A gaping hole where his face used to be.
His lifeless body hit the ground with a sickening splatter. Blood and brain matter seeped into the rain-soaked dirt, mixing into the puddles, turning the earth darker, redder.
More shots rang out.
From the rooftops.
From the shadows.
Bodies dropped around him, one by one. The men who surrounded him were dead before they even realized it.
A hand gripped Tommy’s shoulder.
His instincts snapped.
His Uzi was up, barrel aimed, finger tight on the trigger.
Just like that night in Harwood.
Just like before.
Desperate. Ready to take one last bastard down with him.
Then… clarity.
The darkness lifted.
Pepe.
Pepe was the one holding him.
Tommy almost shot him.
His heart plummeted.
Pepe’s hands flew up, eyes wide. “¡Tranquilo, amigo! It’s me! Tú eres muy loco!”
Tommy’s arms dropped. The Uzi slipped from his hands, landing in the mud.
He let himself fall back.
The rain hit his face. The skies above stretched gray, endless, suffocating.
Voices yelled around him. Hands grabbed at him.
“Tommy, keep your eyes open! Stay with us!”
The world tilted. His limbs felt heavy. The rain mixed with blood, and the ground beneath him felt too far away.
Umberto was shouting. Someone shook him.
He wanted to respond.
But his voice wouldn’t come.
Everything faded, the voices growing distant, drowned by the unrelenting storm.
And as the world slipped into darkness, a brutal realization hit him–
He wasn’t the man he used to be.
And maybe, just maybe…
…he never would be again.
Notes:
This is in reference to Loose Ends (GTA Vice City).
Life has been so harsh. I just don't know what to do. But, hey, as long as I can write, I would!
Thank you so much for reading <3
Chapter 59: Reunion
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
THE AFTERNOON BREEZE of late January was cool and damp to the skin; a perfect time to watch the waves of the Liberty Strait at an approaching sunset. With her bare feet feeling the chill on the ground, Asuka sauntered toward one of the sun loungers in the pool area. She stopped by the edge of the pool, facing the calming waves, and breathed in deeply, taking in tranquility.
Each day, she diligently cleared her mind, preparing to face the Yakuzas. Through meditation, she discovered how to liberate her thoughts from unnecessary intrusions. However, as her responsibilities grew at the helm, finding peace became a challenging feat. The oyabun had granted her complete autonomy in Liberty City, resulting in a busier, more demanding, and dangerous life as she constantly oversaw the transactions and businesses entrusted to her by the Yakuzas.
Luckily, Tommy’s support in the South proved invaluable, and their business partnership thrived. Asuka often wondered if Reena knew about their deal. The surprising turn of events occurred after her last conversation with Tommy – Reena and he had finally gotten together despite his pessimism about their future. To Asuka, it felt like a win-win situation. Reena found closure and happiness – she and Cleo lived prosperously, and Tommy became a reliable and trustworthy ally.
However, Asuka hesitated to reveal the news to 8-Ball as she understood he wouldn’t take it positively.
“Why do you always go here in the afternoon?” Maria grumbled as she appeared beside her and sat on the sun lounger at the left. “I keep on seeing you here from the balcony, wondering what the heck did I do wrong again...”
And here was the other reason why her meditation felt like a chore.
“What is it to you?” Asuka wondered, unable to stop her brows from creasing. “And before you ask me for something, which I know you’re going to do now, make sure–”
“That I brought you a warm cup of tea,” Maria groused as she laid the cup on the patio table. “There you go, oyassan!”
Asuka was taken aback by Maria’s use of the title. She’d never asked to be addressed that way, or perhaps Maria knew exactly how to trigger her sense of guilt. Yet, as she noticed the cup of tea placed beside her, a warm smile involuntarily spread across her face.
“Thank you,” she whispered, expressing her gratitude.
“Arigatou,” Maria proudly replied, nodding with a sense of satisfaction.
“Maria, arigatou is thank you. You’re welcome is doitashimashite.”
With a swift motion, Maria rolled her eyes and pouted, sinking back into the sun lounger. “Sorry, I’m not Japanese!” she retorted.
Asuka could only shake her head in response. She noticed that Maria always became defensive whenever corrected, and she wondered if she’d pointed out her mistakes so frequently that it caused Maria to put up her guard all the time. Although Maria often displayed immaturity, the memory of her caring for Reena lingered in Asuka’s mind, leaving her truly impressed. It was the most responsible thing she’d witnessed from the Maria Latore she knew, and unfortunately, she hadn’t seen her repeat that level of responsibility since.
Well, she was still hoping. Maybe one day.
Her phone on the table suddenly rang, further disrupting her supposedly peaceful meditation. Without shifting from her spot, she reached for the device and answered it, displaying complete indifference even to check who was calling.
“Kasen.”
“Hello, Asuka…”
Her eyes widened, and she jolted up from her seat in utter surprise upon hearing the voice on the other end. “Reena?!” she exclaimed, briefly glancing at her phone to confirm, and her mouth opened even wider as she realized it was indeed Reena calling. It had been a long time since she’d reached out, even to Maria.
Reena chuckled heartily. “It’s me... How are you and Maria?”
Swiftly, Asuka turned toward Maria, who, despite her initial nonchalance, eagerly got up and faced her too, clearly excited. Maria quickly snatched the phone from Asuka’s hand, and although Asuka tried to retrieve it, Maria already held it too close to her face.
“Reena, my darling, this is me! As you know, Asuka’s still giving me a hard time, but I’m doing just fine!”
“You really need to stop!” Asuka seized her phone back, accidentally pushing it against her friend’s chin. Maria let out a yelp, rubbing her jaw in response, but Asuka paid no attention to the incident and proceeded to press the loudspeaker, allowing both of them to hear the call. “Reena, how are you? We haven’t spoken to you in a long time…”
“I know…” she answered, her voice tinged with longing. “Asuka, I hope I’m not disturbing you…”
“Of course, you’re not…” Asuka retorted, intrigued by Reena’s words. “What’s the matter?”
“I… I missed you and I… I just wonder when I can see you again…”
“Oh, you can see us anytime!” Maria cried out, not allowing Asuka to probe more. “Tell us when you want to!”
“Actually...” Reena murmured, but the call abruptly ended with a loud beep, catching both Asuka and Maria off guard.
“Did she just hang up?” Maria asked.
Confusion struck Asuka, and she could sense Maria’s unease too. Was there an emergency on Reena’s end? Had something happened so urgently that she needed to drop the call without a proper goodbye? With these questions swirling in her head, Asuka’s hands trembled as she fumbled to dial Reena’s number.
A distinct buzzing sound resonated nearby. Intrigued, Asuka turned around, trying to locate the source of the noise. But her heart skipped a beat.
“Reena!”
Asuka’s heart welled with emotion. Reena was there, wearing a broad smile across her face as the gentle wind from Liberty Strait played with her dress. To her right, a little boy with red cheeks and freckles stood, wearing denim jumpers over a striped sweater.
“Is that Cleo?!”
Despite her efforts to convince herself that nothing had changed, the joy radiating from Reena felt so different compared to the last time they’d seen each other. There was something about the way she smiled. It was warm and captivating, far from how she was before.
Out of the blue, Maria bolted toward Reena, wrapping her into a very tight embrace. The boy wasn’t letting go of his mother’s hand, looking up at her and Maria so curiously, swayed along by Maria’s excited hug that almost threw Reena off her feet. Reena’s face flushed as Maria kept squeezing her, but her smile lingered anyway.
“Tell me I’m not dreaming!”
“No, you’re not!”
As she seemed to struggle to breathe and survive Maria’s deadly embrace, Asuka crouched down and leaned toward the little boy. His face bore a striking resemblance to Reena’s, with beautiful, faded spots on his skin and cheeks. However, upon closer inspection, Asuka noticed how much Cleo resembled his father – dark brown eyes that gazed deeply, thin, pouty lips pressed together, and an abundance of hair on the sides of his cheeks.
Goodness, it couldn’t be denied that this boy was Claude Speed’s son.
“I can’t believe Cleo’s already a year old!”
“And a half!” Reena added as Maria finally let her go.
When Asuka reached for the boy’s hand, Cleo immediately let go of Reena’s and grabbed hers, causing her to chuckle in delight.
“He’s such a grown-up now!” Maria said as she stooped down likewise and stared at the boy, evidently charmed by his adorable face. “My god, Reena, he looks like Claude–”
Asuka nudged her. Maria lost her balance, causing her to fall to the ground.
“Ouch!” Maria cried, her glare sharp and annoyed. “I’m sorry! Okay?!”
Biting her lip, Reena assisted Maria in standing back up, cradling her gently in her arms. Asuka was astonished to see Reena seemingly unfazed when Claude’s name was almost mentioned.
“It’s okay, Asuka…” Reena grinned, bearing no hint of bitterness. She took Cleo in her arms, lifting him to her chest with care. Before Asuka could even react, Reena turned to the elderly lady behind them and placed a comforting hand on her back. “Asuka, Maria, this is Mrs. Hubbard. She helps me in taking care of Cleo…”
Asuka remembered seeing her at Tommy and Reena’s wedding.
“I’m happy to finally meet you, Miss Kasen, Miss Latore,” Mrs. Hubbard greeted with a warm smile. “Reena has talked so much about you...”
Despite Reena’s cheerful nod, Asuka noticed the faint shades beneath her eyes and the paleness of her lips. The boy clung tightly to Reena’s neck, but Asuka kept an observant eye.
Holding Cleo’s hand, Reena shifted her gaze between her and Maria. “Can we go to 8-Ball?”
“You did miss us, didn’t you?” Maria teased.
In the parking lot, Asuka saw a couple of huge men, recognizing one of them even from quite a distance – Marcus Pendelbury, Tommy’s henchman, the one who brought the invitation to 8-Ball’s place.
“Oh, you didn’t have to ask!” Maria yelled as she grabbed Reena’s wrist and yanked her toward the parking lot. “Let’s go, Asuka! Pick up your fat–”
“Alright! You don’t have to call me that way!”
Asuka got into the Stinger with Maria, Reena, Cleo, and Mrs. Hubbard. One of her Yakuzas was driving for them, and not so far behind, Tommy’s henchmen followed in their own car. On Reena’s lap sat Cleo, pointing to the view outside through the tinted window of the backseat.
“Baby, look!” Reena exclaimed as they passed by the looming skyscrapers around the metro, their shadows casting on the highway filled with cars and on the sidewalks riddled by strolling civilians.
Cleo eagerly raised his hand and touched the window, enthusiastically gazing at everything his mother pointed out. Asuka observed Reena in utter disbelief that she barely concealed, noticing how carefree she’d become. Occasionally, Maria glanced back at Asuka with a similarly puzzled expression, confirming Asuka’s suspicion that she too felt and wondered about the same things.
Asuka shrugged off the skepticism in her head and decided to go along with Reena’s enjoyment, encouraging Maria to do the same.
As they reached the auto yard tucked behind the multi-story parking lot, Asuka stole a glance at Reena, hoping to gauge her reaction, knowing how significant the place was to her. Yet, Reena still wore the same smile she had when they left the condominium, manifesting nothing but happiness.
Maybe, she was worrying too much.
The Stinger was parked next to the ramp leading to 8-Ball’s garage. This Newport branch was smaller compared to the one in Pike Creek, but 8-Ball spent more time here. Asuka had once suggested to him the idea of moving to a bigger place, but he seemed attached to this location. She hesitated to mention that Tommy had offered him a space Downtown near Ammu-Nation or Vice Point near her casino project. Asuka knew 8-Ball wouldn’t be interested despite Tommy’s efforts to establish a relationship just because it was Tommy Vercetti.
They got out of the car and ascended the ramp, arriving at the garage. Inside, 8-Ball sat on a small chair with his back turned to them, completely unaware of their presence. He was engrossed in tinkering with a greasy piece of metal and a collection of screws scattered on the ground. Asuka could hear him humming a tune, but she couldn’t quite identify which song it was.
Maria confidently marched forward, her heels clanking on the ground, which caught 8-Ball’s attention. He turned around, his face scowling, his forehead glistening with beads of sweat.
“What the–Maria? What are you doing here?!”
“You better clean up, nice guy. We’ve got a visitor!”
8-Ball’s face grimaced even more, but when his gaze fell on Asuka, the creasing of his eyebrows seemed to lighten. His eyes then shifted again, and in what felt like a moment of shock, it quickly transformed into a squeal of glee. 8-Ball immediately jerked up, seemingly forgetting about his greasy hands, and dashed toward Reena. She welcomed him with equally delighted laughter and a tight embrace.
Throughout their time together, 8-Ball never explicitly mentioned anything to Asuka and Maria, but she could sense his deep remorse for not attending Reena’s wedding. After their return from Vice City, he asked numerous questions, showing concern about Reena’s well-being and disposition. He was devastated for not being able to do anything for her at the time, but as time passed, 8-Ball seemed to let go of his self-resentment. At least, that was what Asuka knew.
“Oh God, Reena!” His muffled cry of joy as he buried his face in the space between her neck and shoulder sounded incredibly relieved. “I didn’t expect you’d be here!”
Reena chuckled with gratitude, her eyes almost teary as she released 8-Ball from their hug and gently cupped his face. Then, she turned to the side and looked at Cleo, lifting the boy by the crook of his arms.
8-Ball had never looked so proud. The shine in his eyes, the unmistakable joy radiating from his face, and the beaming smile he wore made it evident that he felt exhilarated.
“Is this–” 8-Ball halted, his brows furrowing as he failed to contain his emotions. “Do you remember me, huh? It’s… It’s Uncle 8-Ball!”
Cleo stuck out his little hand and reached for 8-Ball’s face. “Un-cle 8-Ball…”
The barely intelligible blabber of his name caused 8-Ball to shed a tear, his bravado crumpling as he sniffed back. He cried like a vulnerable child, overwhelmed with emotions.
Cleo was very adorable and angel-like; there was no doubt that 8-Ball was smitten, but his reaction and emotion ran even deeper. Beyond his godson’s presence, Asuka knew that 8-Ball’s feelings were rooted in the fact that he saw Claude in the little boy.
It was as if Claude was brought back to life through Cleo.
Reena’s face churned likewise. Her eyes softened with understanding as she gently wiped away a tear from 8-Ball’s cheek. She held him close, cherishing the reunion after a long time apart. Eventually, she pulled back slightly, still keeping him at arm’s length as if trying to take in the sight of her dear friend.
“I didn’t see you that day,” Reena suddenly said, her face turning into a frown. “I was waiting for you in the church, in the reception, but you didn’t come!”
8-Ball’s eyes grew large, and he threw Asuka a nervous glance. “I-I’m sorry, Reena,” he said. “Something came up that I’d have to stay for…”
“That’s right,” Asuka interjected, trying to save him further from Reena’s inquiries. “We weren’t able to tell you–”
“You, too,” Reena chimed in, catching her off-guard. Her expression carried a tinge of disappointment. “You just went missing after the ceremony. I was hoping to spend time with you…”
Asuka was certain that neither of them had expected Reena to inquire about their minimal presence on her wedding day. Guilt began to creep into her chest, and she suspected that 8-Ball and Maria felt it too. However, they couldn’t reveal the truth of what had happened (or what was happening), and the urgency to evade Reena’s probing questions became more pressing than ever.
“But we’re together now, right?” Maria quickly interjected, and her words redeemed all of them at that moment. “We wanna make it up to you! So, tell us, what do you wanna do now?”
A smile gradually returned to Reena’s face as if the earlier disappointment had been forgotten. “Tommy allowed me to come here, and he’s arranged a two-week stay for us!” she exclaimed, her excitement evident.
“Wow, two weeks!” 8-Ball cried, followed by a scoff. “I didn’t think he’d ever allow you to go back to Liberty City–”
Like she did with Maria, Asuka nudged his arm from behind, prompting 8-Ball to look back at her. She didn’t speak a word, but she made sure that he understood her message.
Stop talking about it…
8-Ball squinted, his mouth parting to retort.
“Where will you be staying?” Asuka inquired, preventing 8-Ball from reacting. “If you like, I’ll have the left-wing building prepared–”
“No, no…” Reena immediately said as she bit her lip. “I don’t wanna stay there. But if it’s okay, can we stay with you in the right wing?”
Asuka felt Maria’s pinch on her waist, and when she glared at her, Maria’s eyes widened, and her jaws clenched, as if she was silently signaling that Asuka had almost messed things up, just like 8-Ball.
“Mama, look! Airplane!” Cleo suddenly exclaimed, pointing up above, his little tongue barely forming the right sounds. Like a massive bird, the airplane flew above their heads, behind the thin clouds in the clear, blue sky. Reena’s face lit up with joy as she followed Cleo’s pointing finger, her smile growing bigger and brighter.
While the mother and son marveled at the sky, Asuka’s attention was drawn to Reena’s belly. Her coat and dress were indeed loose, and she could see a noticeable bump beneath. With one hand holding Cleo and the other gently resting on her stomach, Reena caressed her belly with utmost care. Asuka looked up at her, feeling a wave of shame wash over her upon realizing that Reena had already caught her gaze, though with a playful grin, as if she knew exactly where Asuka’s eyes had wandered.
“I missed you, all of you…” Reena said while her eyes were still on her. “I’m sorry if I’ve been gone for too long…”
“You don’t have to be sorry. We just wished that you reached out to us more often!” 8-Ball said with a warm smile. He offered his hands toward Cleo, and the little boy instinctively stretched his arms out, eager to be held. “And this little handsome here! I keep on thinking about him!”
Asuka took a step closer, wanting to get a better view of Reena’s body from a closer angle. “I’ve been meaning to ask Reena, but are you alright? You look great, truly, but your eyes…”
Reena briefly brushed her fingers on her eyebags and bowed her head. “I… I came here because I want to spend time with you before we move to another state.”
“Move?!” Maria cried aloud, almost shouting. “Where are you going?”
“Yeah, where are you going?” 8-Ball interjected, echoing Maria’s concern.
They waited for her to answer. Reena looked at each one of them, her gaze was rather sad proven by her deep breaths. “We’re leaving Vice City.”
Asuka, Maria, and 8-Ball exchanged glances, taken aback by Reena’s unexpected announcement. “Leaving Vice City?” Asuka repeated, her voice filled with surprise and concern. Maria nodded in agreement, waiting for Reena to explain further. On the other hand, 8-Ball looked a bit furious, and Asuka could see his fists clench.
Reena nodded. “We’re moving to Las Venturas. Tommy bought an estate there and he wanted us to make a fresh start…”
8-Ball’s face sulked, disappointment clouding his expression. “Las Venturas?” he replied, a hint of disapproval evident in his tone.
“We can visit her sometimes, 8-Ball,” Asuka said, trying to curb the tension that was growing.
“I agree with Asuka,” Maria added. “We can visit wherever…”
“When is this?!” 8-Ball probed further, his skepticism evident in his tone. He didn’t seem convinced by any of the words of assurance from her and Maria. Asuka could see the worry and concern on his face, knowing that he disagreed with Reena being with Tommy.
“Around August or September,” Reena murmured, her forlorn eyes peering at them. “Asuka and Maria are right. We still can visit each other, although it might take some time. Cleo’s very young, his sister’s coming, and–”
“Sister?!” Maria raised both of her hands in palpable surprise.
The huge and loose coat and dress. The bump on her stomach. The shades under her eyes. The paleness of her skin.
All their eyes then shifted to Reena’s stomach.
Maria gasped for air; the way she took in a gulp of breath was too loud that it made 8-Ball turn to face her. “You’re pregnant?!”
As Reena nodded, a high-pitched, ecstatic scream erupted from Maria, shaking the air with sheer excitement. She couldn’t contain her joy and began jumping up and down, her enthusiasm contagious. Rushing toward Reena, Maria enveloped her in another exuberant embrace. “Oh my God, I thought your dress was just big!” Maria’s hand slid down to Reena’s stomach. “I can feel her!”
Asuka moved to Reena’s side, her hand instinctively reaching out to Reena’s belly as well. Even though she’d seen it earlier, Asuka needed to confirm the presence of the tiny life growing inside. And there it was, small yet steadily growing, firm yet gentle, a source of surprise and rhapsody. Asuka’s laughter bubbled up with joy as she felt the curves of Reena’s baby bump in her palm. “How far are you now?” she asked, gazing at her friend with tender affection while gently caressing her belly.
“Almost five months…” Reena replied, her voice tinged with emotion as she bit her lower lip. It was evident that she felt overwhelmed by their warm reception and support. “She’s kind of small, but we’re getting there…”
As Maria let go of Reena, Asuka took her turn, feeling the warmth of Reena’s embrace as she held her tightly, sharing in her happiness and joy. However, when she lifted her eyes, she noticed that 8-Ball’s demeanor had shifted drastically. His hands were scrunched, and his jaw and shoulders seemed tense. He glanced at Cleo, then back at Asuka, his expression transforming into a frown. The happy and jubilant 8-Ball they had witnessed earlier had disappeared, replaced by a conflicted and troubled version.
Asuka held onto Reena a little tighter, silently hoping that she wouldn’t notice 8-Ball’s reaction.
“I wish you’d name her Maria…”
“Such an ugly name, do not do that,” Asuka quickly retaliated as she let go of Reena.
“As if she’d name her Asuka!”
Reena laughed affectionately at their playful bickering, but her attention soon turned to 8-Ball. She approached him and wrapped her arms around him in a loving hug. However, 8-Ball remained stiff, with Cleo between them, and his gaze fixed on Asuka with blank eyes. He made no attempt to feign happiness or engage in the embrace, leaving Asuka with a sinking feeling in her chest.
“Cleo’s gonna be a big brother now,” Reena murmured. “You’re gonna be an uncle again…”
Reena. Art by _peyaya (Twitter, Tumblr, and Instagram).
I just thought of sharing this beautiful art I commissioned a year ago for my OC. She's beautiful, isn't she? <3
Notes:
Turning 30 feels like I'm old enough to die lol XD
Anyway, it's my Reena's birthday today, and I wish her more stories and more damsel-in-distress scenes and more angst/fluff and smut and everything <3 <3 <3
Thank you so much for reading <3
Chapter 60: Seeds of Doubt
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
EVERYTHING WAS GOING fine for Reena except for two things – feeling homesick and not receiving any call from Tommy. She found solace on the balcony, gazing across the Liberty Strait with the regal Portland Rock standing proudly in the distance. Despite the frigid air, the rising sun offered a comforting warmth, soothing her body as she stood there, lost in her thoughts. Cleo was still asleep, so she had all the time to herself to overthink.
Glancing at her phone once more, disappointment crept in as she found no new messages. She contemplated calling Tommy, knowing he was a light sleeper, and would likely answer, but hesitated, not wanting to disturb him. Thoughts of her husband filled her mind, and a mix of emotions washed over her. Reena realized that she’d grown so accustomed to his presence that being away from him, even for just a day, felt strangely wrong.
She tucked her phone back into her pocket and left the balcony. As she turned around, she saw Asuka emerging from the hall, dragging her feet across the floor and rubbing her droopy eyes.
“Good morning,” Asuka greeted, her raven hair flowing softly on her shoulders. “You got up so early. Were you able to sleep well?”
Reena nodded. “I just got used to getting up at this time.”
“I see…” Asuka smiled and opened the cupboard. “I’m making tea. Do you want some?”
“Sure…”
Rounding the island, she joined Asuka in the kitchen. As she sat on one of the high stools, resting her cold hands on the counter, Reena watched Asuka as she gracefully moved. Every action she made was refined with elegance. Delicate teacups and a ceramic teapot rested on a lacquered tray. The teacups were porcelain, adorned with blue, wave-like patterns that ran along their circular bodies, their soft clanking echoing in the kitchen. She selected the finest green tea leaves and dried flowers in a transparent jar, gently placing them into the teapot.
“So, how are you and Tommy?” Asuka inquired, settling the kettle she filled with water above the fire.
The question caught Reena off guard, not that she didn’t know what to say, but because Asuka wasn’t the kind of person who’d express interest in such a matter. Grinning, Reena bit her lip and tucked the wispy strands of her hair behind her ears. “As you can see…” she said, giggling and touching her belly, “we got busy.”
Asuka smiled mischievously, urging Reena to chuckle more, finding mirth in her own words. “I didn’t imagine you two would be together,” she commented.
It didn’t take long for the water to boil. Asuka turned the stove off and grabbed the kettle, painstakingly pouring hot water into the teapot. The steam rose, carrying the rich aroma of the tea leaves and dried flowers with it.
“He’s been wonderful,” Reena said, casting Asuka a slightly shameful glance. “We didn’t start well, but Tommy’s been very patient with me.”
Asuka let the drink infuse longer. She grabbed a jar that contained cubes of sugar and handed it over to Reena. “I am glad you found happiness. I know it was hard to move on, but I can see you are thriving now.”
Reena’s eyes lowered to the empty cup, and unconsciously, she found herself drumming her fingers on the counter. She curled them into her palms, her fingernails piercing her skin. “We’re happy,” she affirmed with conviction, her voice unwavering, “but I’ll never forget him.”
The atmosphere seemed to shift, a heavy sense settling between them. Asuka’s expression wavered, a blend of emotions flickering across her face, leaving Reena unsure of what lay beneath the surface.
“Hey, it’s… It’s okay,” Reena added, determined to remove the sudden tension that enveloped them. She smiled, offering an assurance that she found no offense with what was said.
Asuka beamed, relief flashing on her face. “Say, do you want to go out tonight with me and Maria?”
“Of course, she does!” Maria’s voice boomed from down the hall. Both she and Asuka turned in her direction, surprised to find her holding Cleo in her arms while Mrs. Hubbard stood behind them, scratching her head.
“Cleo was still sleeping, but Miss Latore insisted on taking him–”
“Oh, don’t you worry, Mrs. Hubbard!” Maria winked at her twice, her disheveled hair bouncing, covering Cleo’s head that rested on her shoulder. “Reena won’t get mad!”
“Why did you wake the boy up?!” Asuka cried out, clearly incensed, while Reena just winced, her lips stretching into a pained expression.
Maria glanced back at Mrs. Hubbard once more, ignoring Asuka’s remarks. “See? Reena doesn’t get mad!” Then, she faced them again, jolting Cleo, ultimately rousing him from his sleepiness. “Now, about the date night?”
Getting up from the chair, Reena reached out for her son, finding comfort in the feel of his little hand in hers. “Got a place in mind?” she asked, playfully brushing the tip of her nose against the boy’s forehead.
Asuka inclined her head in agreement. “We got reservations in Morningstar Resto in Torrington, near the casino.”
“Is 8-Ball coming?” Reena inquired further.
“He said he couldn’t come. We told him about this before, but he had a scheduled appointment that he couldn’t drop,” Maria explained as she went to the fridge and grabbed a bottle of orange juice.
“We can add two more people to the list,” Asuka said, her eyes fixed on Reena as she took a sip of her tea. “Mrs. Hubbard can come with us.”
“Oh, Miss Kasen, thank you, but I prefer to stay here. I’ll take care of Cleo, and you go on, dear,” Mrs. Hubbard graciously declined, offering Reena a warm smile.
“Are you sure?” Reena asked worriedly. “I mean, we can take Cleo with us–”
“You asked Mr. Vercetti to let you go here to visit and spend time with your friends. I came with you because I want you to enjoy just like you intend to,” she explained tenderly. She gently raised her eyebrows and reached for Cleo, taking him from Reena’s arms. “You cannot do that if you’re always holding your son.”
Mrs. Hubbard was right. She cherished Cleo, but she also yearned for some time to reconnect with her friends without worrying about her responsibilities as a mother. Asuka nodded with approval, and Reena realized that she could finally allow herself to indulge in some well-deserved moments of carefree enjoyment. Grateful for Mrs. Hubbard’s support, she smiled heartily, knowing that her son was in caring hands.
However, Reena’s smile flickered briefly, her hopeful anticipation dimming as she glanced at her phone once more, only to find no calls or messages from Tommy. Letting out a wistful sigh, she carefully returned the device to her pocket, pushing back the wave of disappointment that threatened to engulf her.
~~~~~~~~~~
As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting an orange glow over the city, Reena found herself standing before the looming building of their destination. Maria clung to her arms and yanked her gently to the entrance, both of them following Asuka as she led the way.
Adorned with red and orange lights and oriental displays that hung on the outer ridges and balconies, the doors of the restaurant welcomed Reena with the utmost warmth, the total opposite of the chill that plagued the atmosphere. Even the air she inhaled outside felt frozen, her lungs suffering in the cold, struggling to adjust to the different weather in Liberty City. The double coat she wore over a long dress didn’t do any good, and even if Asuka lent her thick gloves, her fingers still felt stiff and unwieldy. There was not a time she stopped rubbing her hands on her shoulders while her arms were folded over her chest.
Somehow, with the restaurant’s warmth, her trembling subsided, and the steam that was once coming out of her mouth as she exhaled vanished. The interior bustled with a crowd of elegantly attired individuals in long gowns and suits, while tuxedo-clad servants gracefully served food on silver platters to the discerning patrons. Upon seeing Asuka, the receptionist bowed down and ushered another server to assist them to their seats. Reena and Maria followed Asuka until they reached the edge of the room where a gleaming, round wooden table awaited. The server distributed the menu to each of them once they were seated.
Still, Reena couldn’t take her thoughts away from Cleo. Although Mrs. Hubbard assured her she’d take good care of the little boy, Reena couldn’t help feeling that the night would’ve been more meaningful if they were all together. However, the ladies were eager for a night out, and she didn’t want to dampen their plans. Besides, she missed their company as well.
She hadn’t even opened the menu yet, her gaze fixed blankly on its cover as she drifted to her thoughts. She wondered if Cleo was alright and if he was looking for her. She also worried about Tommy, feeling an itch to grab her phone and call him, to inquire about how he was. Since yesterday, he hadn’t reached out to her, leaving her feeling concerned and disconnected.
Her throat felt parched.
“Reena, you can’t have any liquor,” Asuka reminded her as she raised her hand and called for the server again. “I think you must have something rich in iron. You’re really looking pale.”
“Can I have soda instead?” she whispered sheepishly as she cupped her own cheeks. “I really, really miss drinking one...”
“Is it okay for you to have carbonated drinks? I don’t think that’s healthy…” Asuka retorted.
She was right, it wasn’t healthy. Tommy didn’t allow her to take any food or drink not good for the baby. But since she was away, and since Tommy seemed so unbothered to check up on her, her rebellious thoughts emerged. Maybe, she could sneak, but Asuka was equally aware and wary.
“Oh, Asuka. You’re such a killjoy!” Maria turned to Reena, grabbing the menu from her hands and flipping the pages to the beverages. “Just take whatever you want! Can’t stop preggies from their cravings, right?”
“I’m ordering, Maria. If I wanted to, I wouldn’t order anything for you.”
As Asuka made her order, Reena noticed that the server winked at Maria. Beneath the long white sleeves he was wearing was an outline of a tattoo running along from his arms up to his neck. All that she could see were the end strokes of the art that wrapped what could have been a brawny figure within.
Maria bit her lip, gazing back at the server suggestively.
Asuka appeared unfazed by Maria’s newfound interest in something else. The atmosphere was calm and serene, without any disturbances, until the moment the food was brought to the table.
The server placed each entrée on their table, careful not to disturb the alignment of the utensils. Now and then, he’d peer at Maria, and she would let out a devious grin.
“Thank you,” Asuka said, lifting her gaze to the server. “You are?”
“You can call me Flavio,” he said, flashing a handsome beam and showing his dashing white teeth before turning to Maria.
“Flavio. What a beautiful name,” Maria remarked, her chin resting on her palm while she blinked charmingly at him.
Asuka smiled, but her expression seemed unsettling. “Flavio, this lady here is associated with Yakuzas. See the brooch she’s wearing on her coat and the one on my chest?” Asuka pointed to her own pin and then gestured toward Maria’s. “You wouldn’t want to get in trouble, would you?”
Maria’s eyes gaped, shocked by Asuka’s words, unable to hold up her sweet face at the server anymore. Even Reena felt the threat their friend uttered.
The server cleared his throat and tensed a little. “Yes, ma’am. I apologize.”
“Good,” Asuka murmured, waving her hand outward. “Then, begone.”
Glancing at Maria for the last time, the server gave her a firm smile before finally leaving their table.
And so, it started.
“You love making my life so miserable, don’t you?!” Maria cried out, anger palpable in her voice.
Asuka took the spoon and scooped from the seafood chowder in her bowl. “Food’s gonna get cold, Maria,” she said, blowing air into the piping spoonful, ignoring what Maria just said.
“Are you fucking jealous I’m flirting with someone?!”
Asuka dropped the utensils, their clanking echoing aloud in the restaurant and getting the attention of the nearby customers. Her sharp, narrow eyes glared back at Maria, though Reena could tell that she was hiding something.
On the other hand, Maria looked so disappointed, so defeated. “We’re supposed to be having fun! We’re not having fun!” Maria cried with a strained voice as she held the steak knife and stabbed the slab of beef on her plate.
Reena was beginning to lose her appetite, unsure of what to do with her friends.
“Can you two please calm down–”
“You’re killing it, Maria. We’re here to celebrate for Reena, not to find someone for you to flirt with,” Asuka firmly retorted.
Maria’s jaws clenched, and with a swift motion, she thrust the fork into the steak aggressively. Even though the meat was still connected to the slab, she forcefully shoved a piece into her mouth. Juices from the meat dripped from her lips, and the red, oily liquid rolled down her chin, heading toward her cleavage.
“You are disgracing food!” Asuka snatched a napkin and threw it at Maria’s face.
Reena could feel her cheeks burn in embarrassment. More and more customers were staring at them, whispering among themselves, speculating with harmful curiosity.
Maria wasn’t finished yet. She reached for Asuka’s spoon and scooped a generous spoonful of seafood chowder from her bowl, slurping it with a noise so disturbing that caused more heads to turn their way.
All Reena could do was sigh – the endless debate trapped her between Asuka and Maria. She contemplated intervening once more, but the futility of the situation weighed on her, prompting a heavy exhale of resignation. Without drawing their attention, Reena quickly excused herself and hurriedly left the restaurant, leaving the two still bickering. The cold breeze greeted her outside, and she instinctively wrapped her arms around herself for warmth. Retrieving her phone, she dialed Mrs. Hubbard’s number, hoping for a quick response. The ringing didn’t take long to end.
“How’s Cleo?” she immediately asked, her jaws clenching in the cold.
“He’s already asleep, my dear! I think he likes the cold.”
“Really?!” Reena giggled as she looked up at the night sky, the stars from a distance shimmering in the open space. From the terrace of the building, she could see the faint lights twinkling in the skyline, overlooking the sea, and the gust of wind blowing from the emptiness was getting bitter. “We’re already here in the restaurant. Do you want me to get you a take-out?”
“No, dear, I’m fine. Enjoy the night out! Don’t worry so much about Cleo.”
Reena smiled at the phone, unable to tell her that Asuka and Maria’s argument was spoiling the night. “I will, thank you.”
She pondered calling Tommy, the thought playing in her mind on repeat. Despite the persistent urge, her heart resisted, and she tried to push it to the back of her thoughts, attempting to slip the phone back into her pocket. However, her grip faltered, and the device slipped from her hand, landing with a thud on the floor. Cursing her clumsiness, she was about to crouch down to retrieve it when, out of nowhere, a stranger appeared, picking up the phone for her. His curly hair bounced atop his head as he stood up and returned the phone, but as their eyes met, Reena couldn’t help but gape wide-eyed.
“Reena? Is that you?!”
Ken Rosenberg stood with a confused smile on his lips, still holding her phone and sticking his hand out toward her.
Her hand fell on her chest. “Ken! I-I didn’t expect to see you here!”
The lawyer’s smile grew more pronounced as Reena retrieved the phone, their hands inadvertently brushing against each other. Reena’s delight was re-awakened, seeing a person she hadn’t laid eyes on for many years standing before her on Staunton Island, on the porch of the same building where she was. He moved closer, gently touching the crook of her elbow, his eyes sparkling with apparent joy behind his tinted eyeglasses.
“Neither do I!”
It was as if the world was too small for Reena to come across Ken in Liberty City. If she did remember it right, Tommy hadn’t mentioned him aside from the stories he told her about. In fact, one of the things that surprised her after arriving in Vice City was not seeing Ken Rosenberg in the estate anymore. Whenever she happened to mention him, Tommy would steer the topic away or simply not answer her queries. She knew well that her husband and Ken were inseparable back then, at least, to her knowledge. Not seeing him anywhere near Tommy didn’t bug her at the beginning; it only just came to light when she saw him again tonight.
“It has been a long time since I saw you!” Reena said, still unable to hold her astonishment. “I didn’t know you were here in Liberty City!”
“Been here for quite some time.” Ken smiled at her, his eyes squinting in curiosity. “What about you? What are you doing here?”
A mist of cold air slipped from her trembling lips. “Just visiting,” she replied. She followed Ken’s lead toward the edge of the restaurant’s terrace. “A couple of weeks’ vacation.”
They stopped at the railings, the winter breeze sweeping in the exterior balcony, making the steel poles untouchable. Ken leaned on the fences and turned to her, still wearing a smile on his face. It seemed like he wasn’t affected by the cold.
“How’s Tommy?” he asked.
“He’s busy with some stuff,” she answered. “Do you still talk to him?”
Ken looked over her shoulders cautiously, urging her to turn around to see what he was looking at. Aside from the two of them, the terrace was empty and silent.
“No, not quite,” he mumbled, his smile becoming a bit awkward. “We haven’t talked for some time.”
“Would you like me to call him? I-I can tell that–”
“Oh no, please,” Ken pleaded, bowing his head and peering at her narrowly beneath his eyeglasses. “We kinda have a misunderstanding.”
Reena’s mouth parted as she absorbed what Ken just said. Perhaps, it was the reason why Tommy hadn’t talked about him to her at all, and why he was always guarded when Ken was being brought up.
“I see…” she muttered quite disappointedly. “Tommy never told me about that.”
Ken grinned. “I’m surprised that he didn’t tell you not to talk to me in case we meet…”
The way Ken spoke sounded hollow. Curiosity lingered in his eyes, though his voice felt rather conspicuous that resentment was harbored, perhaps, toward Tommy. She didn’t know what caused them to fall apart, making her wonder even more. From Tommy’s stories, Ken was there from the start of his life in Vice City. Why all of a sudden, their friendship seemed to have ended without a warning?
“Does he have a reason to not allow us to talk?” She waited with bated air for his answer.
“No, he doesn’t,” Ken assured her, smiling. “I just thought that, maybe, he didn’t want you engaging with me, since, do you know? I don’t know if you know, Reena, but… he kinda hated me.”
She shook her head, her eyes fluttering. “No, I don’t. I’m really sorry.”
“I’m going to be straightforward with you, Reena,” Ken said with a chuckle, a mix of amusement and embarrassment crossing his face. He appeared hesitant to finish his sentence. “But… can I get your number?”
“Of course,” she quickly affirmed, drawing out her phone and showing him the screen. Ken Rosenberg hastily added her digits to his contacts.
After inserting his phone back into his suit, Ken leaned on the railings again, scratching his head, his gaze fixed on the sea. “It’s so miserable being alone, I might need someone to talk to,” he said, followed by a nervous snigger. He looked at her with what seemed like an imploring expression, and Reena couldn’t help but feel sympathy toward him.
Gently, she placed her cold hand on Ken’s, which was curled around the railing. “I’m out of your problem with Tommy. If you need any help or just someone to talk to, you can always call me. Anytime,” she reassured him.
“Thanks for the offer,” Ken said with a smile. “Sometimes, I wonder why you’re with Tommy.”
He stared at her for a few seconds, seemingly noticing something. When she realized he’d been looking at the shades under her eyes, Reena instinctively brushed her knuckles over her eye bags, feeling her face flush with embarrassment. As Ken’s brows furrowed, she’d already anticipated the question he was about to ask, and her intuition proved correct.
“I’m sorry, Reena. If you don’t mind me asking, are you sick?”
She touched her face sheepishly as she peered at Ken. “It might be because of my pregnancy…”
A tense silence engulfed them for a moment, and then Ken’s mouth hung open in palpable surprise at her revelation. Releasing his grip on the railing, the lawyer adjusted his eyeglasses and looked at her with exhilaration. “You’re pregnant?!”
“Yeah, I am,” she admitted, beaming and dipping her chin into her chest as she touched her belly. “Almost five months...”
“Oh, wow!” he exclaimed, offering an embrace that Reena warmly accepted. His arms enveloped her, and she felt his hand gently rub her back. Then, he held her at arm’s length. “Congratulations! I-I don’t know what to say. Never knew Tommy wanna become a father!”
“Me too,” she chuckled, remembering her own fear when Tommy didn’t know about their baby yet. “I thought he was gonna be scared but I think he’s happier than I am–”
“Reena!”
The call made her spin on her heels. Asuka and Maria were approaching her, worry etched on their faces.
She’d been gone for too long.
“I’m sorry…” she immediately apologized and walked toward them.
Maria grabbed her wrist and pulled her a bit forcefully. “We’re so worried about you!” she explained, squeezing her hands. “I know you got upset with us, so we come looking for you…”
Reena shook her head, assuring her that it wasn’t the case. She glanced back in Ken’s direction, smiling at him. “I didn’t expect to see a friend here tonight…”
Asuka’s eyes narrowed. “Who are you?” she asked.
“He’s Ken Rosenberg,” Reena answered, trying to curb the tension. “He was Tommy’s business partner and friend. I met him in Vice City years ago.”
“Pleasure to meet you, ladies,” Ken said, stepping forward, seemingly unfazed by Asuka and Maria’s palpable dislike.
“I’m Asuka Kasen, and this is Maria Latore,” Asuka responded, but her voice remained stern. “We are sorry to break the moment with you, but we have to go, and we are here to get our friend.”
“We’re going?” Reena asked, baffled by the sudden departure that even Asuka hadn’t planned, wondering if their argument escalated much more after she left. “Did something happen–”
“Emergency, Reena. I’m sorry, but it would be better to just go home now,” Asuka explained, motioning for Maria to pull Reena further. She looked at Ken and smiled. “Goodbye, Mr. Rosenberg.”
She wasn’t able to retort at all. “What’s going on?” she asked, looking back and forth between Asuka and Maria, but it felt like her questions fell on deaf ears.
“Actually, it’s attorney. Atty. Kenneth Rosenberg,” Ken suddenly exclaimed, drawing their attention. He took a few more steps closer to them, even though the distance between them seemed to stretch. “I represent a lot of organizations here in Liberty City. If you’re interested, Miss Kasen, I can offer you my services.” From the inner pocket of his suit, he retrieved a card and handed it to Asuka. “I can represent you in legal matters. Taxes, permits, criminal charges…”
Something flickered in Asuka’s eyes. Reena wondered why she was so rigid and uneasy.
“I’ve been to the State Penitentiary before. Two years ago, my friend, Tommy… he wanted me to represent someone, but we were denied by the Supreme Court so we just let it go.”
“Represent someone?” Reena asked, and Asuka seemed to stiffen even more.
“The guy’s still in jail, but we’re getting him out soon,” he said with a smirk. “I think Tommy will be happy–”
“That’s good to know,” Asuka interrupted, not letting Ken finish his words. “Let’s go.”
Like a bolt, they all dashed away from Ken Rosenberg, leaving Reena to wonder about the reason for their abrupt departure. She glanced over her shoulder, catching a glimpse of Ken waving his hand at them, still looking delighted despite the less-than-warm reception he received from Asuka and Maria.
“Goodbye, ladies!” he yelled, the echoes of his voice paling in the night.
As they approached the parking lot, Reena noticed that Maria’s hold on her was unusually tight, almost to the point of discomfort. She tried to pull her arm back, but Maria’s grip remained firm – she wasn’t letting go, and Asuka was equally determined not to let her out of their sight again.
A couple of Yakuzas met them on the way, their narrow eyes displaying callousness as they gathered around Asuka. She spoke to them in hushed tones, her expression serious, and the two Yakuzas nodded in understanding, acknowledging Asuka’s orders. One of them moved away in the opposite direction, pulling out a pistol from his side, while the other assisted them as they proceeded toward the Stinger.
Unable to contain herself any longer, Reena abruptly halted Maria’s march, tugging her hand away forcefully. Asuka and Maria turned back to look at her, their expressions tense.
“Will you tell me what’s going on?” she demanded, standing her ground.
Asuka and Maria exchanged looks, seemingly passing on the responsibility of who should break the news to Reena. After a brief moment of sharing knowing looks, Asuka let out a heavy breath and turned to face Reena, her eyes reflecting a mix of concern and trepidation.
“In this very parking lot, a few moments ago before we found you, we saw a Sentinel. A Leone Sentinel…”
It was then that Reena realized leaving immediately was the wisest action to take.
Notes:
Who do you think is Ken Rosenberg talking about?
Thank you so much for reading <3
Chapter 61: The Scheme
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
WAVES SPLASHED ON the jagged stone formations beneath the Portland Rock, a spectacle from the balcony of the Mansion. Ken stood still, looking at the mighty structure, wondering when the time would come that the waters would devour it. Years or decades or eternities of abominable ripples, no matter how long it would take, one day, he ascertained, that the lighthouse would fall into the depths of the Atlantic. Portland Rock might have looked so strong, so steadfast, but only time could tell, and the relentless beating of the sea would guarantee its fate… a fate of its inevitable downfall.
Just like Tommy Vercetti.
Akin to the mad waters below was the cascading wrath in his chest, recalling the day that Tommy ditched him. Thrown in a faraway place with nothing but his shame, Ken thought of all the things he’d done for Tommy. Almost two years passed, but the pain brought by his abandonment was still raw. When Tommy turned his back on him, Ken ran after him like a dog, begging for his mercy, resolute to do better. But Tommy never faced him again, or anyone else he was indebted to.
“What were you thinking?”
The honeydew scent swept his senses, and in an instant, a smile laced his lips. Mercedes came beside him and leaned on the railings, looking likewise at the Portland Rock, seemingly enticed by its majestic splendor. Her hair was tinged with purple highlights that rolled with the wind, spreading on her tanned shoulders where the thin straps of her tight dress clung. Like him, she didn’t move on her spot, absorbed in her own musings despite asking him what he was contemplating.
“Old times, I guess.”
She hummed, slightly turning toward him, her eyes heavy-lidded. “Do you miss Vice City?”
He chuckled bitterly at her question. There wasn’t a time he recalled not being in Vice City before that son of a bitch sent him to Fort Carson. It was his home, his safe space, but Tommy kicked him out, and for what? For whom? For stealing money that he deserved to have? For indulging himself in drugs, the only thing that made him happy? Or for slapping Tommy with the hard truth on his face that he was pining over a whore?
Speaking of which, he couldn’t believe that she was already bearing his child! He thought of telling Mercedes, but maybe, things would’ve been more exciting if she found out herself. How the man they knew who despised having a family of his own settled for less, and now, was on the precipice of becoming a father himself? Tommy’s hypocrisy ticked every sore spot in Ken’s mind. It was hilarious to think about how he’d hated Sonny Forelli so much for betraying him and setting him up, but in return, he let down the very people who helped him rise to power, even his very own friend who rotted in prison.
So much for a pact, wasn’t it?
“Vice City’s my home,” he murmured without removing his gaze from the lighthouse. It was, it would always be, and he was going back there one day to wreak havoc on Tommy’s life. “Just a few more months, you’ll see, and this year isn’t ending without me watching fireworks on the balcony of my apartment in Ocean Beach.”
Mercedes laughed gaily, seemingly amused by his vigor and optimism. “Well, I gotta leave you here for now. I got a project for Congressman Shrub with Candy. Can’t let the chance slip off.”
That made him look at her. “You’re flying home?”
“Yeah, tonight.”
“Do you mind if I ask what the project was?”
She lifted her chin and flipped her hair to the back of her shoulder. “Are you aware that Tommy’s selling the studio?”
The question took him by surprise. “He’s selling InterGlobal Films?”
Mercedes nodded. “Shrub’s buying the studio. He wants me and Candy to be there, and I wanna see Tommy too.”
How could stars be this so aligned? Reena in Staunton Island, Tommy all alone in Vice City, and Mercedes going to Prawn Island…
Ken snickered. “Say, you wanna know a secret?”
Her lips pursed and her eyes squinted in palpable curiosity. Slowly, she moved closer to him until their arms touched. “I like secrets. I’m good at ‘em.”
Leaning closer, Ken put his lips near her ears, making sure she’d hear every word he said. “A man’s weakest point’s when he’s alone. Seize the moment, Mercedes.” He smirked, touched her shoulder, and headed inside the Mansion.
Ken quickly located the origin of the music in the foyer. Making his way to the vinyl player situated in the corner, he lifted the needle from the record and carefully placed the disk back into its case. He then rummaged through the stack of records beside the player, searching for a new one to play. Eventually, he discovered a record labeled classical, puckering his lips as he found the perfect choice. Extracting the record from its case, he positioned it on the turntable and eagerly pressed the needle down.
The soft introduction of Nocturne op. 9 No. 2 touched his heart, its mellow cadence that felt like twinkling stars somewhat cradled his troubled mind. Ken closed his eyes, immersing himself in the music that embraced his being, the beating of his heart following the rhythm of the exquisite masterpiece.
“So, how’s your appointment on Staunton Island?”
Upon opening his eyes, Ken spotted Joey Leone by the corridor doorway, securing a velvet robe around his waist. The pungent aroma of liquor emanated from him, and his droopy eyes revealed that he’d been drinking. Despite this, Ken greeted him with a smile and approached the Don, who seemed far from pleased by his presence.
“Judge Oliver Scarbein informed me that he’d be released in either August or September.”
Joey’s eyes fluttered like he’d been splashed with cold water on the face. “Really?!” he asked, the surprise in his voice made Ken’s stomach twist in delight. “H-How come? It’s… It’s just a year!”
“That’s what I said too,” he proudly boasted, feeling the success of being a bearer of good news to the failing Leone Don. He walked past him and headed for the larger couch, slumping his bum onto the soft cushion and stretching out his limbs over the backrest, crossing his legs in the process. “LCPD doesn’t care about him, Mr. Leone. The release wouldn’t reach the news.”
The Don was obviously delighted as he followed and sat on the couch across from him. “Excellent! Then, we could kill–”
“Calm down, Mr. Leone,” Ken interrupted as he leaned forward, pressing his elbows on his knees. “Remember, you ain’t painting blood in your hands anymore. That was our plan, right?”
“Right…”
“Let him do the thing…”
“Okay, yeah…”
How vulnerable. Joey Leone wasn’t a very smart guy. Easily coaxed and deceived. It was no surprise that people took advantage of him, except for Toni Cipriani. Joey’s eyes glowed with child-like innocence and excitement, completely unaware of the potential repercussions of his actions. For Ken, this newfound power was intoxicating. It felt remarkably effortless to maneuver people in the palm of his hand, shaping their thoughts like a blank canvas waiting to be painted.
“When the time comes he finds out what Tommy and Reena did, I assure you, Mr. Leone, he’ll beg for your mercy to kill him.”
Joey Leone bit his lower lip while nodding enthusiastically. “I want that.”
“Are you ready for another good news?”
Ken pulled his phone out of his pocket and pressed the call button. While waiting for the other end to ring, he placed the phone on the coffee table between him and Joey Leone, activating the loudspeaker. The Don glanced at him with a puzzled expression, then shifted his gaze to the phone and back to Ken, silently mouthing, “What?” while his face contorted with discomfort.
“Hello? Who’s this?”
In response to Joey Leone’s decisive glare, Ken couldn’t help but snicker. However, holding back his excitement since the previous night, he finally broke into a wide, ear-to-ear smile, meeting Joey’s intense gaze with enthusiasm.
“Hi, Reena! It’s Ken!”
The Don’s face was an indescribable mix of shock and astonishment as if struck by a wild lightning bolt amidst thunderous clouds. His eyes and mouth wide open, he appeared akin to witnessing the dead rising from their tombs. He seemed helpless, like someone frozen in place before an immense wave, his soul on the verge of escaping its frail and futile confines. Ken had never realized the extent of Joey Leone’s obsession with getting close to his half-sister. Now that they were on the cusp of achieving that closeness, with her within Joey’s grasp, he seemed completely lost in the moment.
“Hey, Ken!” Her voice carried a tinge of melancholy, but she seemed to be trying to inject a bit of joy into it. “I’m really sorry if we left early last night…”
“Oh, it’s alright, you don’t need to apologize!” he assured her, rolling his eyes playfully, still finding amusement in Joey’s expression that appeared to be beyond comprehension. “I’m just calling to check on you, and your baby…”
To say that Joey’s jaw dropped was an understatement.
“Thank you, Ken, you’re so thoughtful. What about you, are you alright?”
“Yeah, I am, thanks for asking,” he muttered, glancing at the dumbstruck Don. “I just wanted to know if you’re fine. I gotta get going. Take care of yourself and your baby, hm?”
“I will. Take care, Ken. I’ll see you around.”
When the call ended, Joey Leone’s laughter filled the house as if he’d won the lottery. Ken observed him with satisfaction, delighted to have made the Don so ecstatic that he seemed ready to jump from the floor to celebrate their success. This was the closest they’d ever been to Serena Lane, and now that Ken had her number and could reach out to her anytime, he knew they could exert control over her even from a distance.
“How did you do that?!” the Don asked, his face turning red in unmistakable happiness. “How’d you get her number?! Did you see her?!”
“Indeed I did,” he affirmed. “And guess what, Mr. Leone? She’s with Asuka Kasen… and your stepmother.”
Like a flash, Joey’s bright face turned sour, making him stop his hasty celebration. “That bitch?!”
“Yeah, in Torrington. Now I guess, she also stays in Newport. What do you think?”
The Don’s hands clutched on his robe, ruffling the velvet cloth over his thighs. “I’m calling in for surveillance. Once we confirm she’s there, I’m making sure she’s gonna sign the shit.” Joey stood from the couch and went to the corner, beside the vinyl player, and picked up the phone.
Joey Leone could do whatever the fuck he wanted. Hunt her down? Abduct her? Kill her? Thy will be done. Ken didn’t care anymore, because all he needed to know was in his hands.
He found the whore, pregnant.
And his release was coming very soon.
Ken couldn’t wait to see Tommy’s reaction by then. How much remorse he would show, how heavy his guilt would be… the kind of state he’d be left with once all the things he purposely hid resurfaced. And now, Ken had Reena in his bind – he could tell her things she didn’t know and mess with her mind. And when she discovered the truth, he’d love to see her broken, crying, and furious at the very man she trusted. Hitting him, slapping him, pulling away from him… oh, such a movie scene! So dramatic! So surreal…
Before they knew it, the reaper man would be back.
“Do as you wish, Mr. Leone,” he murmured, seeing the pieces of his scheme falling into place.
MARIA’S FINGERS SNAPPED before Reena’s eyes, taking her out of her reveries. An immediate shame plagued her coiling stomach, realizing that for the third time, she’d zoned out again while they were talking about the party she was planning for her husband… her husband whom she hadn’t talked to since the other day.
The last time she spoke to Tommy was when she got to Liberty City. She poured her heart into ten messages and made three missed calls, all futilely landing in voicemail. Desperate to reach him, she implored Marcus and Leigh to try contacting him, but their efforts led to the same outcome. The unanswered calls and messages left her confused, wondering what could be keeping her husband away and why he seemed so distant.
When her phone rang this morning, she felt her heart jump, but disappointment swiftly cascaded as she realized it was Ken Rosenberg who was calling her, not her husband.
What’s going on?
“Are you alright?” Maria asked, looking at Reena with a concerned gaze. She sat beside her and touched her back, the warmth of her palm comforting but not enough to ease her worries.
With quick nods, Reena forced a smile on her lips. “Yeah, yeah I’m alright–”
“Don’t deny it from me, Reena,” Maria interrupted. “I know you very well.”
As Maria’s scrutinizing gaze bore down on her, Reena let out a heavy breath, feeling the tension in her chest. She didn’t want to tell Maria what was going on, but it seemed like the only way to ease the anxiety that had been gnawing at her was to let it out.
“Have you ever felt worried when my father hasn’t called you in a day?” she asked, barely able to look Maria in the eyes.
Maria seemed caught off guard. Her hand slowly slid down as she awkwardly shifted in her seat. Reena sensed that her question hadn’t resonated well, and instant regret swept over her, realizing how stupid it was to ask such a question in the first place.
“I-I’m sorry,” she said. “I didn’t mean to–”
“No, no, it’s okay,” Maria assured her, taking her hand. A nervous chuckle slipped from her lips. “I’m sorry, I just… didn’t expect it.”
Reena nodded, desperate to convey her understanding of Maria’s reaction. Maria had been honest with her, opening up about the reality of her relationship with Salvatore while he was still alive. To say they frequently had misunderstandings undermined the reality, as Salvatore’s treatment of her throughout their time together was far from kind.
She could still remember the nights they spent together in the flat in the left-wing building, where Maria stood by her side through the nights she grieved for Claude. Maria told her stories, confiding to her about the past. She said that she felt like a trophy wife, lured away from the comforts of her casino job with promises of a beautiful life, only to be constantly bashed and put down by Salvatore. For years, she had no voice in their relationship and resorted to drugs until she met Asuka. Although things started to improve in the later years of Salvatore’s life, to Maria, the wounds he caused would never heal.
Her insensitivity to Maria’s past made her feel small. She felt that she didn’t deserve her companionship at the moment. Lowering her head, Reena looked at the floor and cursed herself within, vowing to never ask her the likes of those inquiries ever again.
Salvatore Leone, her father, wasn’t perfect. Perhaps, all husbands weren’t, including Tommy.
“Hey, Reena!” Maria snapped her fingers once more, pulling her out of her thoughts. “I told you, it’s fine!” Her smile was so bright that Reena forgot the wave of embarrassment that got caught in her throat.
Reena pressed a hand on her forehead and let out a silly chuckle. “I’ve been like this lately,” she confessed.
“Why don’t you just tell me what’s bothering you? He ain’t calling you yet?”
How the tables have turned. Now, she was the one who’d been snagged. She let out another tense sigh, recognizing that no matter how long Maria waited, she’d still ask the same question.
Fidgeting with her fingers, Reena dipped her chin into her chest. “Tommy hasn’t called me since I arrived here… not even a message.”
Maria’s eyebrows lifted altogether, her lips pursed, and her head bobbed up and down. “Ah, that’s why…” she construed. “Does he ever forget?”
Reena shook her head. “No, he never does.”
“Maybe he’s just busy?”
Perhaps. But he’d never been busy for her, or was she just so unhealthily used to his attention?
“I just… I just worry about him.”
“You worry he’s in danger?” Maria asked, peering at her from her lowered gaze.
Reena bit her lip. “He’s been unclear about it, but he tells me not to worry.”
“Oh, is that so?” Maria inquired, her voice getting a bit more skeptical this time. “Or are you worried he’s with someone else?”
Her head shot up. “What?”
Absolutely not. Reena firmly believed that Tommy would never do such a thing to her. He’d always been patient, never losing hope, and continuously showing his love and adoration for her. She never once doubted the sincerity of his feelings. Even during the times when she pushed him away, he assured her that he’d never been with anyone else.
“I said, are you worried that while you’re here, he’s seeing someone else?”
“No, he-he’d never do that!” Reena stammered. “I just know.”
Maria cleared her throat and slightly bounced on her seat. “I know you trust Tommy. Why don’t you just keep trusting him?”
Reena forced herself to smile, despite feeling her knees wobbling and her chest constricting. She knew she couldn’t reveal what she was truly going through. Hormones. Exhaustion. Lack of sleep. Those were just it.
The hidden phone in his drawer. The morning twilight and wee hour departures. The faint but distinct fragrance in his shirt. The disconnect when they were together. And now, his radio silence…
Stop it, Reena.
There was no need to worry about her husband.
Just like what Maria said, she should just keep on trusting him.
As Maria squeezed her arm, assuring Reena she was just going to the bathroom, Reena settled down on the couch, sinking into the soft cushions. She took a moment to glance around the living room, taking in the warm ambiance created by the soft sunlight filtering through the curtains despite her sullen feeling. Her gaze then drifted to the wall clock, its rhythmic ticking beating along with her heart. The clock’s hands pointed to forty-seven minutes past eleven in the morning, marking almost another half day hearing nothing from Tommy.
From the adjacent room, the cheerful sound of Cleo’s giggles filled the air, accompanied by the faint chatter of a television show playing in the background. A gentle breeze wafted through the room, carrying with it the sound of water flowing from the kitchen faucet. Mrs. Hubbard was tending to the dishes again despite Asuka telling her not to anymore.
She heard the front door open, and Cleo’s vibrant squealing caught her attention.
“Un-cle 8-Ball!”
“Hey, little guy!”
Somehow, her feelings seemed to lighten up. Hearing her son’s joyful voice was enough to turn her mood around, even just for a fleeting time. As Reena stood and walked out of the room, she found Cleo running down the hall, dashing into her arms. Reena bent down and welcomed him in her embrace, and his excited laughter matched her joy upon finding 8-Ball at the doorway.
“Mr. Hudson,” Mrs. Hubbard said, “you’re just in time for lunch!”
“Is 8-Ball there?!” Maria’s voice from the bathroom echoed in the walls.
“Right over here!” 8-Ball exclaimed back as approached.
Cleo wriggled playfully in her arms as if he were being tickled. When he refused to let go of Reena, 8-Ball slowly revealed a colorful box that he was holding behind his back.
Reena’s heart swelled in joy, urging her son to look at the gift. “Look, baby! Uncle 8-Ball has something for you!”
Cleo’s initial refusal was instantly replaced by an attempt to unlatch Reena’s embrace. She let her son go, and the boy went to 8-Ball, taking the box and opening it. His eyes seemed to lighten and his cheeks blushed even more as he retrieved a beautiful toy.
“Mama!” he yelled, showing Reena and 8-Ball the toy. “Car!”
A smile crept across her face as she watched the joyful reaction of her son, the sound of his voice filling the air with innocence. She gazed at 8-Ball endearingly and approached him, touching him on the arm. “We missed you last night…”
8-Ball just shrugged his shoulders and crouched down, holding Cleo by the crook of his arms. “I needed to do something,” he said as he lifted Cleo to his chest. “I just missed this guy and I thought I’d visit him…”
“What about me? Don’t you miss me?” she asked and pouted.
“Of course, I do!” 8-Ball exclaimed, then he looked at Cleo and held him closer. “I just missed this boy a lot, you know?”
Together, they went to the living room, and Maria joined them shortly right after. Cleo’s cackles and 8-Ball’s playful laughter resonated through the walls, creating a symphony of joy that lifted her spirits. Now and then, she’d find herself caressing her baby bump, and more often than not, 8-Ball would cast him a knowing look, his gaze falling to her belly as well.
Yet, whenever he did, his smile seemed to pale. It was so subtle, but Reena would notice.
When Mrs. Hubbard began preparing the table, Reena stood to offer her help, but Maria stopped her and pushed her back down the chair. “Preggy mommies should stay seated,” she said, smiling playfully at her.
Sighing, Reena sat back, letting herself sink into the cushion. Again, 8-Ball’s eyes were fixed on her belly, and he didn’t seem to notice that she was watching him.
There was a knock on the front door, then it opened, revealing Leigh. He came into the flat, gently stepping in. He lifted a phone and showed it to Reena.
“Miss, we spoke to Mr. Robina. He says Boss is with him, but he was passed out. He’ll tell Boss to call you as soon as he can.”
Suddenly, 8-Ball’s head shot up, and his eyes blazed with intensity as he turned his glare toward Leigh. “Passed out?” he repeated, his voice edged with concern and suspicion. Then, his gaze turned to Reena, his expression accusing. “What does your husband do in Vice City that he passes out while you’re away?”
His words cut through the air like a sharp blade, leaving Reena feeling vulnerable and exposed.
Her eyes fluttered, not knowing what to say. “He might’ve gotten into something–”
“Something?” 8-Ball scoffed, his tone becoming mocking. “If it ain’t that suspicious…”
The joyful atmosphere from moments ago had dissipated, replaced by an unsettling tension that hung in the air like a storm cloud. Reena struggled to find the right words to explain, feeling like her every reason would be scrutinized, and her emotions laid bare before 8-Ball’s piercing gaze.
Forcing a smile on her face, she looked up at Leigh and jerked him a nod. “Thank you, Leigh. Say my thanks to Umberto.”
Leigh firmly nodded, then he turned around and left the apartment.
“What was that, 8-Ball?!” Maria yelled from the kitchen, her glare sharp as well.
“Maybe a wake-up call?” he retorted, throwing Reena a rather insinuating glance, and then he went back to Cleo as if nothing happened.
Torn between defending Tommy and acknowledging 8-Ball’s point, Reena couldn’t shake the nagging doubts that crept back into her mind. A day passed, and not a single message or call from him while she was away. Every fiber of her being wanted to trust Tommy, but everything seemed against him, leaving her feeling unsettled and conflicted.
What’s happening with you, Tommy? Reena bit her lip as she asked herself.
Notes:
Thank you so much for reading <3
Chapter 62: Rivals
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
THE MECHANICAL BUZZ of the air conditioner droned like a dying engine, barely puffing anything but noise. Tommy stirred.
Pain shot through his body the second he moved.
Fuck.
Even the slightest shift sent fire ripping through his muscles. His limbs ached like they’d been wrung dry. The bullet wounds in his thigh and shoulder throbbed, every breath making them pulse. The gauze stretched tight against his skin, sticking where the blood had seeped through.
He barely made it out of that damn junkyard.
The duvet had crumpled halfway off the bed, barely covering his stiff legs. Cold crept in, numbing the tips of his fingers. Even reaching for the phone on the bedside table was a struggle. His fingers felt rusted, his joints refusing to cooperate.
It almost slipped from his grasp. He barely caught it.
Dead battery.
Of course.
Tommy groaned, prying open the drawer for the charger. Every movement pulled at his wounds. By the time he plugged it in and powered the phone up, his jaw was clenched so tight it ached.
The screen lit up.
Then it vibrated.
And kept vibrating.
Missed calls. Messages. Voicemails.
Most from Reena.
Shit.
More than a day had passed since he last called her. His gut twisted. He opened her messages, expecting rage, disappointment – something. But all he found was concern.
She had been waiting for him. And he had left her in the dark.
Frustration coiled in his chest as he fumbled to dial her number.
Then, a new message flashed across the screen.
Asuka Kasen.
Tommy’s brows furrowed. What the hell did she want?
“Do you know a man named Ken Rosenberg?” The message read.
His grip tightened around the phone. Ken? That idiot?
With some effort, he typed back. “Yeah, what about him?”
It had been a while since he last heard about Rosenberg, let alone from Asuka. How the hell did she know him?
The reply was instant.
“We need to talk.”
Tommy exhaled, rubbing a hand down his face. Not now. Not when his body felt like it had been put through a goddamn grinder.
Not when he hadn’t even spoken to his wife yet.
His thumb hovered over Reena’s number–
A knock.
Sharp. Insistent.
His irritation flared.
“For fuck’s sake, Mike,” Tommy bellowed, his voice raw. “I told you not to fucking disturb me! One day. Just one day! And you’re already–”
“Mr. Vercetti?”
The voice was not Mike’s.
It was Doris.
His blood ran cold.
Doris never came here.
The knocks grew louder. More desperate. And the locked knob twisted violently.
Still scowling, Tommy forced himself up. His body screamed in protest, but the urgency in her voice pushed him forward.
He unlocked the door, sulk heavy on his face.
But Doris’s was worse.
The deep lines on her forehead stuck out like jagged strokes of ink. Her small eyes were swollen, rimmed red. Tears clung to the edges, threatening to spill over.
She looked like she had aged a decade overnight.
A horrible feeling settled in Tommy’s gut.
He knew the last time he had seen Doris was on his wedding day, and now…
“Mr. Vercetti,” she croaked, lips trembling. She opened her mouth to say more, but broke.
She collapsed into her hands, sobbing.
Tommy stood frozen.
Doris. This tough-as-nails Kaufman Cabs woman. Crying.
His confusion fought with the sick weight pressing against his ribs.
He glanced past her. Mike stood against the wall, arms crossed, eyes blank. Mouth slightly open.
Dread coiled in Tommy’s spine. Something was very, very wrong. “What happened?” he asked, his voice low and cautious.
Doris’s sobs hitched. She lifted her head, her cheeks streaked with tears. “Ted…” she whimpered. “He’s in critical condition.”
A beat.
Tommy’s pulse skipped. “Why?!”
“Boss… the taxi he was driving crashed. His head–” Mike hesitated, then lifted his hands.
Blood.
His forearms. His fingers. Dried, dark.
“His head burst.”
Fuck.
Doris gasped, choking on a fresh wave of tears.
“They’re trying to kill them, Mr. Vercetti!” she cried, her voice breaking. Her hands clawed at her own face as if trying to hold herself together. “They’re going after my drivers! They–”
“Who?” Tommy demanded.
Doris’s lip quivered. She bit her nail. This woman – this strong woman – was terrified.
“VC Cabs.”
Tommy’s vision blurred with red.
Doris kept talking, but his mind was already racing ahead.
“They started getting aggressive a few days ago,” she said shakily. “Stealing customers, taunting the drivers… They even got physical with one of our groups…”
His jaw clenched.
“Why the fuck didn’t you tell me sooner?”
Doris flinched.
“I told you,” Tommy growled, voice sharp as glass, “the second those assholes laid a finger on you–”
“Boss!”
Tommy’s head snapped toward the hallway. It was Ross, running and breathless, his face the same as Mike’s.
Something else had happened.
“There’s a problem with Kaufman Cabs,” Ross gasped.
That was all Tommy needed to hear.
The pain vanished, and the fatigue? It burned away, replaced by fury.
Tommy yanked a shirt from the closet, teeth gritted as he forced his arms through the sleeves, ignoring the fire in his wounds.
There was no time to rest.
He was grateful Reena wasn’t here. She would’ve never let him do this.
Tommy stormed past Doris, Mike, and Ross.
“Come on.”
~~~~~~~~~~
The first thing Tommy noticed was the two hot-rod coupes parked haphazardly outside the depot gates, their engines still clicking as they cooled. Umberto and his men were already here.
Mike pulled the Cheetah alongside the Hermes, shutting off the engine in a slow, deliberate motion. Without exchanging a word, he and Doris stepped out.
It was still mid-afternoon, but Kaufman Cabs was closed.
Silence swallowed the place, broken only by the murmurs of three shaken cab drivers hunched in the corner. Umberto stood nearby with five more Cubans.
Tommy took in the sight, his jaw tightening.
Two drivers were injured. Blood trickled down one man’s temple, staining his already sweat-drenched collar. The other clutched his bandaged arm, his fingers trembling. The third man, though physically unscathed, looked worse. His hands shook violently, his eyes glassy with terror.
Tommy’s chest burned.
His body ached again, not just from the wounds but from the slow, relentless pressure tightening around his nerves.
Gunpowder still hung thick in the air. The metallic stench of blood mixed with gasoline in a way that turned his stomach. He glanced to his left.
Three cabs.
Their tires flattened. Their frames riddled with bullet holes and dents.
Each impact mark sent another jolt of fury straight to his core.
Fucking hell.
Tommy’s teeth ground together as he walked toward the drivers, forcing himself to keep his voice steady. Controlled.
“Tell me,” he said, crouching to their level. His tone was calm and measured, but beneath it, his anger smoldered like embers beneath ash. “What happened?”
One of the men, blood still trickling from his ear, stared up at him, eyes wide and haunted.
“They… they shot us,” he stammered. “In V-Viceport…”
Tommy’s eyes snapped up to Doris. She sniffed, still standing near Umberto.
“Viceport?” Tommy asked again.
“They said someone called for a cab at the docks,” Umberto answered, hands on his waist. “A request came through their radios.”
The third driver, the one who wasn’t injured but still shaking, swallowed thickly.
“M-Mr. Vercetti,” he mumbled, voice raw, “they… they were looking for you.”
Tommy’s blood turned ice cold.
“Me?”
The driver nodded stiffly, unable to meet his gaze.
Another piece of the puzzle.
Another fucking problem.
“Did they say why?”
The man hesitated. Then, a slow, weak shake of the head. No answers.
Tommy let out a harsh breath, rubbing a hand down his face.
They were looking for him. And they weren’t just showing up at his businesses. They were hunting his men down.
Testing him.
Poking. Prodding. Pushing.
Vice City was his. And these motherfuckers thought they could take a piece?
His fists itched.
He exhaled slowly, forcing the heat in his chest to simmer rather than explode.
“They said it came through the radio, right?”
Umberto gave a firm nod. “Yeah. I already sent Rico and Pepe to Viceport to check it out.”
He paused, then stepped closer, lowering his voice.
“They look like the same guys from the junkyard.”
Tommy’s stomach clenched.
Of course.
He couldn’t even call his wife yet, and this was what he had to deal with.
They weren’t just after him anymore. They were infiltrating his businesses. Coming after his men. Making them bleed.
If they knew about Kaufman Cabs, they knew about Print Works.
And that meant…
Earnest Kelly.
Tommy snapped his gaze to Umberto. “Send some men to Print Works.” His voice was steel.
Umberto didn’t argue. He turned, motioning for one of his men. The Cuban nodded and immediately left with two others.
Tommy exhaled sharply, dragging a hand through his hair.
This was exactly what Cortez had warned him about.
Same tactics.
Coerce. Collect. Coerce again. Collect again.
Only this time…
They weren’t collecting.
They were threatening.
And Tommy wasn’t gonna let that happen.
Umberto watched him carefully, his brow furrowing. “What do you mean you believe him now?”
Tommy’s jaw flexed. “It’s the same goddamn strategy.” He exhaled sharply, sweeping his hand down his face. “But this time, they’re not asking for anything. They’re just causing damage. Pushing me. Trying to take everything I’ve built, one step at a time.”
Umberto folded his arms. “So what do you plan to do?”
Tommy turned, glancing over his shoulder.
Mike stood by the door. Watching. Waiting.
Tommy whistled. The sharp sound cut through the heavy silence.
Mike’s head snapped up.
Tommy tilted his head toward the door, flicking his gaze toward the drivers. Mike got the message.
With a nod, he and the Cubans helped the injured drivers toward the car. Doris followed, still shaken but regaining composure.
Tommy’s gaze locked onto Umberto’s.
“We shut down the depot for now.”
He clapped a firm hand on Umberto’s shoulder.
Then, his voice dropped to something colder.
“I’m gonna give them what they’re asking for.”
~~~~~~~~~~
The setting sun painted the sky in streaks of deep blue and pink, casting an almost serene glow over the chaos waiting ahead.
Tommy gripped the wheel, eyes flicking to the side mirrors as he navigated the busy road into Viceport. The docks bustled with trucks, cargo ships, and tow cranes moving tons of freight. The entire place looked normal. Deceptively normal.
But he could feel it.
Something was coming.
His neck ached, his body stiff. Every muscle, every scar, every fresh wound from the junkyard fight screamed for rest. But he didn’t have time for that. He had a trap to walk into.
Umberto, Rico, and Pepe were out there, searching for the VC Cabs Doris had mentioned. But even with their help, Tommy felt no sense of security. If anything, his nerves coiled tighter.
He had faced setups, betrayals, ambushes.
This wasn’t different.
And yet, he pressed harder on the pedal.
For his family.
As soon as he entered Viceport, he spotted them.
Three VC cabs.
One at twelve o’clock. Two more emerging from side streets.
Trailing him.
At first, it could have been nothing. Could have been competition.
But every time he sped up, they did too.
Every time he turned, they mirrored.
They weren’t just driving. They were waiting for him.
Tommy tightened his grip on the wheel, exhaling sharply.
Fine.
He led them deeper into Viceport, weaving through streets until he reached an empty terminal lot.
A perfect battleground.
The lot was a dead zone. Surrounded by tall fences and abandoned warehouses, its only exit led back to the water. Cargo shipments weren’t due for hours.
The usual sounds of the docks – grinding metal, distant shouts, the crash of waves – were gone.
Even the air felt heavy.
Tommy hit the brakes.
Dust billowed as his cab came to a stop at the center of the lot. He glanced into the rearview mirror.
The three VC cabs pulled in.
Engines revving.
Their drivers didn’t get out.
Instead, they sat there, pressing the gas, taunting him with the repeated growl of their engines. Exhaust fumes curled through the air, thick and suffocating.
Tommy clenched the steering wheel.
Then, the middle cab rolled forward.
The two others followed, moving in unison.
The hairs on Tommy’s neck stood on end.
They’re gonna ram me.
The moment the thought hit, he threw the door open and bailed.
As he hit the ground, he rolled, came up fast, and sprinted toward the quay.
The moment his boots hit the elevated berth, he spun around with his rifle raised.
Determined. Focused. Ready.
The first shot shattered the fastest cab’s windshield, sending shards raining into the driver’s lap. It swerved, slamming on the brakes.
Too late.
The driver’s head slammed forward, cracking against the dashboard.
Blood dribbled down the steering wheel.
Tommy pivoted, crouched on one knee, and lined up his next shot.
Second cab.
He fired.
Rounds shredded through the front tires, tearing through rubber and steel.
The cab tilted, lost control and flipped onto its side.
Metal crunched. Glass exploded.
The third cab screeched to a halt.
Two men jumped out.
Guns drawn.
Tommy’s mind clicked into high gear.
He recognized them.
The junkyard crew.
Same bastards who tried to kill him days ago.
One of them smirked, calling across the lot.
“Tommy Vercetti!”
His voice dripped with arrogance.
“My boss isn’t pleased with what you did!”
Tommy exhaled slowly, spitting onto the ground.
The pulse in his neck throbbed.
Who the fuck was this guy?
“Who the fuck are you?!”
The man’s grin widened, his steps confident. Too confident. “My boss just wanted what’s best for business,” he sneered. “But you? You’re a piece of shit.”
Tommy’s grip tightened on the rifle.
The fumes from the wrecked cabs hung thick in the air.
Gasoline. Blood. Burnt rubber.
His jaw flexed, his breath steady.
He lifted the rifle, pulling it against his shoulder.
The smell of burnt gunpowder filled his nose as he peered down the barrel.
Two men. One rifle. One bullet per bastard.
He wasn’t lowering his guard.
“Tell your boss,” Tommy growled, voice edged with fury, “that I don’t fucking care.”
The man stopped, sneering. His partner laughed.
“You don’t own Vice City,” the first man spat. “You’re just another speck of dust on a gold bar.”
Tommy’s grip tightened.
His knuckles went white.
“We’re not the fucking same.”
The wind from the ocean rushed against his back, swirling dust from the berth into the air.
“It’s about time you go down, Tommy Vercetti.” The man’s smirk twisted.
Tommy didn’t hesitate.
“Fuck you.”
Gunfire exploded.
Tommy dove behind the nearest cab, bullets clanging against the metal, ricocheting off steel.
They were closing in.
Pellets whizzed past him, slicing through air and slamming into the dock.
He wasn’t going down today.
Tommy gritted his teeth, adjusting his rifle.
He counted their shots.
Three-second windows.
He had three seconds between volleys.
He inhaled… listened.
Gunfire rattled.
Silence.
Tommy popped out, aimed, fired.
The first bastard staggered, a bullet tearing through his collarbone.
He screamed, spun, collapsed.
Tommy ducked.
The second man kept moving, firing rapidly. No rhythm, no control.
Tommy smirked.
Panic.
This fucker was panicking.
Tommy counted again.
One. Two. Three.
He lunged from cover, rifle raised.
One shot.
The last man’s face snapped back.
He hit the ground.
Blood pooled beneath him.
Tommy exhaled slowly, lowering his rifle.
The world settled, and the only sounds left were the hiss of the ocean, the whistle of the wind.
He rolled his shoulders, cracked his neck.
Still standing. Still breathing.
Not dead today.
The deafening roar of gunfire ripped through the air as Tommy emerged from cover, rifle tight in his grip, breath sharp, pulse hammering.
One left.
The last enemy stood before him, a silhouette against the dying light.
Tommy lined up the shot, finger pressing against the trigger.
Click.
Empty.
Fuck.
The enemy lunged forward, gun raised.
Tommy’s heart rammed against his ribs. Time stretched slowly, suffocatingly.
The muzzle locked onto his head.
Then–
Bang!
The enemy’s skull exploded.
Blood splattered across Tommy’s face.
The body crashed onto the ground, twitching, bleeding. The final pulses of life draining into the dirt.
Tommy didn’t move. Didn’t even breathe.
His own life had been a second away from ending.
Slowly, his grip on the empty rifle loosened.
He lifted his eyes toward the direction of the shot that saved him.
A car skidded into the lot, engine roaring.
The Hermes.
“¡Amigo!”
Umberto Robina.
He and Pepe leaped out, while Rico remained at the passenger door, rifle slung over his shoulder.
Relief hit Tommy like a damn truck.
The empty weapon slipped from his fingers, clattering to the ground.
His knees buckled. He barely felt himself drop, hands pressing into the rough pavement. His lungs dragged in air, heavy, uneven.
The fight was over.
Umberto jogged up to him, panting. His tank top stuck to his chest, drenched in sweat. He bent over, hands on his knees, sucking in ragged breaths.
Tommy glanced up at him, then let out a hoarse chuckle.
“How’d you find me?”
Umberto tried to speak but couldn’t. He wheezed, clutching his chest, shaking his head.
Tommy smirked. “Your boss looks like he’s dying.”
He leaned back, arms resting on his knees, exhaustion weighing down every inch of his body.
Pepe snickered. “Oye, amigo. Boss heard the gunshots. We followed the sound, eh? Good thing Rico got some good girl in the car.”
“Twice in a row, hermano!” Rico grinned, lifting his rifle like a trophy.
The quay stretched beyond them, waves lapping gently against the concrete. The breeze carried the smell of salt and brine, mixing with the lingering stench of blood and gunpowder.
A reminder of what just happened and of what lay ahead.
Tommy exhaled sharply, grabbed the rifle from the ground, and slung it over his shoulder. His entire body ached, but he ignored it.
“Let’s go.”
Pepe and Rico fell into step beside him.
Umberto, still winded, struggled to keep pace.
Back at the Hermes, Tommy sank into the backseat, head falling against the headrest.
The air conditioner blasted cold air against his face, but his body still burned.
Exhaustion pulled at him.
Pain coiled through his muscles.
Rico fired up the engine, and the car rumbled beneath them.
As they pulled away, distant sirens wailed in the background.
Tommy pulled out his phone.
In his hand, he clutched it tightly.
Reena’s name stared back at him. A single press of the call button, and he’d hear her.
He needed her—her warmth, her embrace, her kiss. But at the same time, he couldn’t let her see him like this. Not now. Not when he was like this. Like before.
A man recklessly dancing with death, challenging fate with no plan, no hesitation.
Junkyards. Dealerships. Enemy compounds.
A man who felt alive again.
He attacked them like a rabid animal, like nothing could touch him.
And nothing did.
His fingers hovered over the call button for a second. Then, he pressed it.
He lifted the trembling phone to his ear.
“Tommy?”
His free hand dragged down his face, wiping away the sweat.
The chaos in his head quieted.
Just her voice. That’s all it took.
His Reena.
“Baby, I’m sorry if I’ve been… away.”
He meant it.
More than she’d ever know.
“It’s okay, I-I’m just so worried,” she sighed. “We’re doing fine. How about you?”
“I feel a lot better now that I’m talking to you.” And he did.
She hesitated. “Do you want us to come back?”
Tommy’s chest tightened.
“No, darling, no.” His voice was firm, but his heart betrayed him. He wanted her back, but not like this. Not while his hands were still stained, while the thrill still coursed through his veins. “I’m fine. Just… too much has happened in the past two days.”
Too much.
But God, it felt good.
The rush. The power. The danger.
For the first time in years, he felt like himself.
Unchained.
“I had to deal with it,” he murmured, pressing two fingers to his temple. “And I didn’t realize how much I’ve been missing.”
Rico turned onto Little Havana’s streets, weaving through traffic. The neon signs flickered to life, the city breathing in the night.
Reena hesitated. “I’m sorry… Did we get in the way?”
Tommy’s heart sank.
“No, sweetie. Never.”
Not her.
Not Cleo.
Not his family.
It was just… everything. Everything he’d tried to bury… the thrill, the chase, the power… they were all clawing back to the surface.
“I just have a few things to manage. I’ll be okay. But…” He exhaled slowly. “I think I’ll feel better when you’re back.”
God, he missed her.
“I just… miss you. So much.”
Her soft sigh wrapped around his chest. “If you just knew how worried I was that you weren’t calling me.”
Tommy closed his eyes, breathing her in through the phone.
“I love you.”
“I love you too.”
The line clicked.
Tommy exhaled.
For a moment, he let the warmth sink in.
Then, it was gone.
Reena was his anchor. But the second the call ended, his blood still hummed with adrenaline, with victory, with control.
He was back in the groove.
And he loved it.
The café came into view, its neon glow cutting through the night.
From the driver’s seat, Rico peered at Tommy through the rearview mirror.
“We still got no clue who it was...”
Tommy’s jaw tightened.
All of this started when Reena was attacked at Sunshine Autos.
After he destroyed that building.
The junkyard men. The VC Cabs drivers.
They all mentioned the same thing.
The same damn thing.
Construction.
His fingers tightened around his phone.
The Spank was gone.
The VC Cabs were finished.
He’d found some pieces of the puzzle, but the picture wasn’t complete.
Not yet.
Rico was right. They still had no clue who was pulling the strings.
Tommy sighed, gaze fixed ahead.
“Probably the new group.”
The loose ends were still loose.
And he had to tighten them.
One way or another.
Notes:
This is in reference to Friendly Rivalry and Cabmaggedon (GTA Vice City).
Thank you so much for reading <3
Chapter 63: Upturned
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
EVERYTHING HAD BEEN smooth sailing the past few days. Despite the deadly encounters Tommy had braved, there were no new threats on the horizon. The mysterious group had vanished without a trace, leaving only the aftermath of their visit. For the first time in a while, Tommy could breathe. No more ambushes. No more bloodshed. Just silence.
And yet, he couldn't shake the feeling that something else was closing in. Something heavier, more consuming.
Determined to push forward, he sprang out of bed and made his way to the bathroom. The mirror reflected back a man who had survived too much, a man who had built an empire, burned bridges, and now stood at the precipice of something unfamiliar: a future that wasn’t just about him.
He chose his attire with care, a crisp, tailored suit, a subconscious effort to remind himself of who he was, or at least who he had been before all this. Today, he had a meeting in Prawn Island, another step toward the new life he was carving out for his family. He told himself this was progress. That it mattered.
Outside, Mike had the Cheetah waiting at the foot of the mansion’s concrete stairs. Their eyes met as Tommy descended, exchanging a firm nod in passing. No words needed. He slid into the car, revved the engine, and peeled out of the estate.
The city blurred past him, Vice City in all its glory. Palm trees swayed in the wind, their silhouettes casting jagged shadows over the road. The ocean sparkled in the distance, stretching endlessly, tempting him with its freedom. His fingers drummed against the steering wheel, restless, antsy.
Then, his phone rang.
He pulled it from his pocket and glanced at the screen. Asuka.
He answered almost instantly. “I’ll be there, I promise.”
“Just checking in,” Asuka replied, her voice low, measured. “Do you want Marcus and Leigh to meet you at the airport? Reena would be very pleased to see you.”
Tommy’s grip tightened on the wheel. The Cheetah’s engine growled beneath him, a reflection of the unease knotting in his chest.
He pictured Reena’s face, her smile when she’d see him standing there, the warmth of her embrace. He knew how much this meant to her. Knew how much she wanted him by her side. And he wanted to be there. He really did.
But another image flickered in his mind. The open road, the weightlessness of having nowhere to be, the intoxicating rush of being untethered.
“Just Marcus,” he said finally. “Keep Leigh with her.”
“Alright. We’re expecting you, especially 8-Ball.” And with that, she hung up.
Tommy exhaled slowly, staring ahead. The road stretched before him, leading him to Prawn Island, to the deal waiting at InterGlobal Films. A necessary step. A responsibility. One more thing to cross off before he boarded that plane and stepped fully into the life he had built with Reena.
But even as he told himself that, something gnawed at the edges of his thoughts.
The pull of something else. Something older. Something he wasn’t ready to name.
And he felt curious. Interested. Driven.
The gates of the InterGlobal Films Studio loomed before him, its once-iconic facade now overshadowed by something else. He pulled the Cheetah into a parking spot at the side, killing the engine. Silence settled in the car, thick and expectant.
Alex Shrub’s Stretch limousine was already there. No surprise. The politician had outbid everyone for the studio, eager to strip it of its identity and reshape it into his own vision. Tommy didn’t care much either way. He just wanted to get rid of it. Reena would be happy when he did.
Stepping out, he adjusted his cuffs, squared his shoulders, and made his way toward the main building. His shoes echoed against the polished tiles as he entered, hands tucked into his pockets. He exchanged nods and half-smiles with familiar faces among the production staff, a strange sense of finality creeping in. This was it. One of the last times he’d walk these halls.
At the end of the corridor, he reached the director’s office. His hand closed around the doorknob, pausing for a brief second.
Even in the quiet, he could hear the faint murmur of conversation beyond the door. Business. Politics. Deals.
The life he was supposed to leave behind.
And yet, the thrill of it still lingered on his skin, just beneath the surface, waiting.
Steve Scott sat at the table, elbows propped up, opposite the congressman, Candy Suxxx, and…
Tommy’s breath hitched. A chill crawled down his spine.
“Mercedes?!” The name ripped from his throat before he could stop it. His pulse pounded in his ears. “What are you doing here?!”
Their eyes locked, and a slow, knowing smile spread across her lips. That same smile. A spark of something unspoken flickered in her gaze. Something dangerous, something forbidden.
“Long time, no see, Tommy…”
Alex Shrub rose from his seat, extending a hand Tommy had no interest in shaking. “Mr. Vercetti, my friend, I’m glad you came–”
“Maybe we could skip the pleasantries.” Tommy’s voice came out sharp, cutting through the thick, humid air. He pulled a chair beside Steve, ignoring the politician’s awkward chuckle.
But no matter how much he tried to focus, a suffocating tension coiled around him, his heart thudding in a way he didn’t like. Shrub was saying something about the studio, something about making the industry “great again”, but Tommy wasn’t listening.
He was too busy fighting the pull of Mercedes Cortez.
She hadn’t changed. If anything, she looked more dangerous than ever. The way she leaned forward, fingers trailing absently over the glossy table, the way her jet-black hair spilled over her shoulders… like she knew exactly what effect she had on him.
What the fuck is she doing here?
“There was still a lot of paperwork to do,” Shrub droned on, licking his lips as his gaze settled on Candy Suxxx’s cleavage. “But I assure you, everything will be swiftly done with the help of my ladies…”
Tommy barely noticed. But when Shrub turned to Mercedes, flashing her that slimy grin, something in his gut twisted.
“Right, Miss Cortez?”
Mercedes didn’t answer right away. Instead, she let her gaze linger on Tommy’s, something playful, something deadly.
Then, with a slow smirk, she replied, “That’s right, Mr. Shrub. I’m gonna help him with the paperwork in the studio.”
Tommy exhaled through his nose. “Since when have you started working for Shrub?”
Mercedes tilted her head, hair cascading over one shoulder. “I didn’t know you were interested,” she mused, that devious smile never fading. “I thought you didn’t care about what I do?”
Steve Scott threw Tommy a wary glance. Tommy returned it with a glare.
She’s fucking with me.
The conversation moved on, Shrub rambling about contracts and numbers, but Tommy’s mind remained tangled in a web of past and present. When Mercedes finally placed the folder in front of him, her fingers grazing the surface, his skin prickled.
He tried to read the contract, but the words blurred. His head throbbed. His nerves twitched. He needed time.
“You gotta give me more time to read this.” He shut the folder with a snap. “I’ll let you know if there are any changes I want to make in two days.”
Steve Scott nodded, pursing his lips, as if he agreed that Tommy needed to examine it thoroughly before signing. Congressman Shrub stood like a pleased child. “Well, that was quick! We gotta go now.” He reached out for a handshake again with a more hopeful expression. “It’s a pleasure doing business with you, Mr. Vercetti.”
One by one, they all left. Shrub, Candy, Steve – gone.
Except her.
Tommy pushed back his chair, ready to leave, but Mercedes was already there, standing in his way, coat draped over her arm, her bag slung casually on her shoulder.
“So,” she purred, head tilting just slightly, eyes sharp, “how’s your life?”
Her voice was teasing, laced with mockery.
Tommy exhaled slowly. “You tell me.”
Mercedes let out a low, knowing chuckle. Then, she stepped closer. Too close.
“Where is she, Tommy?” Her fingers drifted downward, tracing the buttons of his shirt.
He stiffened. He wanted to move, but he couldn’t.
“Where’s your wife?” she murmured, ignoring him, her hand sliding lower, just above his belt.
A dangerous heat licked through his veins. For a second – just a second – his body remembered. The taste of her, the scent of her skin, the nights they spent tangled in each other like animals.
She knows exactly what she’s doing.
“I remember before…” she whispered, tilting her face up, her breath warm against his chin. “When we were left alone like this, you’d just turn me around, bend me over the table…”
His jaw clenched.
Stop.
The words clawed at his throat, but the tension was unbearable. The moment stretched, her fingers toying at the edge of his waistband, her teeth grazing her bottom lip. Red, swollen, inviting.
Enough.
His hand shot out, fingers wrapping around her wrist. He held it there, squeezing just enough to make her pause, just enough to remind them both that he still had control.
Slowly, deliberately, he pushed her away.
Mercedes faltered for only a fraction of a second, her lips curling, not in surprise, but in amusement. Amusement.
She’s playing with me.
Her eyes flickered downward – lingering, deliberate – before dragging back up to meet his gaze, her smirk widening.
“I’ll see you soon.”
And with that, she turned and walked out, leaving behind a thick, suffocating silence.
Tommy let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding, running a hand down his face.
He needed a fucking drink.
Alone in the room, Tommy’s thoughts twisted and churned, raging like an untamed storm. Confusion gnawed at him, unraveling his sense of reason, leaving him stranded in a sea of contradictions. His fingers curled into fists, his breath shallow.
Why the fuck did he freeze?
He wasn’t weak. He wasn’t some lovesick fool. He had every opportunity to shove Mercedes away, to shut her down the second she laid a hand on him. But he didn’t. Not right away.
Her burning gaze. The slow, deliberate way she bit her lip. The sultry path her fingers traced down his torso… every second of it replayed in his mind, branded into his nerves. His body still hummed with it, a restless, lingering heat that he wanted to forget. He needed to forget.
But it wouldn’t let go.
Something had awakened, something deep and buried, something he thought he had let die. That old thrill. The rush of danger. The feeling of being untethered, unchecked, driven by nothing but instinct.
He almost forgot what it felt like.
Reena never did that to him.
Reena.
The name jolted through him like a slap. The switch flipped. His wife – his love – her face burned into his mind, wiping away the haze of temptation. She was waiting for him. Pregnant. Smiling. Believing in him, trusting him. Her eyes, warm and full of love. The life they built. The life they were bringing into the world.
Guilt clawed at his ribs. He reached for his phone, desperate, needing to hear her voice, needing to anchor himself. Maybe if he heard her, it would drown out the echoes of temptation whispering in his mind. Maybe if he focused on Reena, the fire in his veins would finally die down.
His steps were quick, erratic as he walked toward the Cheetah. The phone rang in his ear, his pulse hammering against his temples.
Pick up, pick up, pick up.
“Hi, Tommy…”
His breath left him in a shaky exhale.
“How are you?” He jumped behind the wheel, jamming the key into the ignition. The rumble of the engine beneath him did nothing to steady him. He tilted his head, wedging the phone between his ear and shoulder, his knuckles white on the steering wheel. “You’re with Cleo?”
“We’re here in the apartment with Leigh. Mrs. Hubbard left with Asuka and Maria. I think they’re grabbing some groceries. Cleo’s watching a show on TV,” she said, giggling softly. “Can you hear him?”
Tommy could. His son’s small, off-key singing filled the background. It should’ve made him smile, should’ve lifted the weight off his chest. But the storm in his head wouldn’t settle.
Alone in the room. With Mercedes.
He tried to shake it, gripping the wheel tighter. He forced a laugh. “I didn’t know he was so out of tune,” he muttered, pushing out the words like they weren’t foreign in his mouth. Focus. Stay here. Stay with them. “That’s how you sing when you’re listening to Jezz Torrent–”
“Hey!” Reena’s laughter danced through the line, light and teasing. “You’re incredibly rude…”
The sound should’ve comforted him. But it only made his thoughts spiral.
Was it her he imagined biting her lip? Was it Reena he wanted to push against the desk?
Fuck.
“I’m… I’m on my way home now,” he said, voice tight. A distraction. A different train of thought. “Congressman Shrub’s buying the studio…”
He should tell her. Should tell her everything. But the words lodged in his throat. Reena wasn’t the jealous type, but something about Mercedes being back, being this close again… it felt like a secret he wasn’t supposed to tell.
“Are you really selling it?” she asked, a hint of concern creeping into her voice.
“Of course I am, it’s just…” Tommy hesitated. “I feel like it’s being rushed, and I wanna look for a new prospect buyer. But Shrub’s insistent as hell.”
Reena hummed softly, a habit of hers when she was listening, really listening. She never interrupted, never pushed. Sometimes, Tommy wished she would. That she’d press him, pull things out of him instead of waiting for him to lay them bare.
A thought wormed its way in, unbidden.
Mercedes wouldn’t wait.
Shit.
“I don’t think you’re rushing, but I understand where you’re coming from,” Reena said, voice calm, steady.
The kind of calm that should’ve grounded him, but instead, it grated. It grated.
“Can I do something to cheer you up?” she asked, sweet and sincere.
The red light blinked. Tommy exhaled hard through his nose, pressing his foot against the clutch, shifting the gear to neutral. Think about the future. Think about later. Think about Reena.
“I’m alright,” he muttered, trying to drag himself back to where he needed to be. “I just… miss you.”
Did he? Or was it someone else he missed?
Before he could untangle that mess, a sharp cry rang through the phone.
Cleo.
Reena’s voice shifted, gentle but urgent. “Tommy, I’ll get back to you later, okay? I’ll call you again. I love you.”
His throat tightened. The words felt heavy in his mouth. “I love you, baby.”
The line clicked dead. Silence.
Tommy lowered the phone, staring at it for a second before tossing it into the dash compartment. The ache in his chest deepened.
He rolled the window down, letting the wind slap against his face, hoping the cold air would clear his head, cool the heat still smoldering in his blood. But the thoughts wouldn’t stop, the memory of Mercedes’s touch lingering longer than it should.
Then, his phone rang again.
For a brief, fleeting second, he thought it was Reena calling back. Maybe Cleo had calmed down. Maybe she sensed something off in his voice and wanted to check on him.
He grabbed the phone without looking.
“Is Cleo okay now–”
“Tommy…”
The voice on the other end was not Reena’s.
It was Umberto.
His gut twisted. Something was wrong.
Tommy slammed the brakes, tires screeching as he veered toward the roadside. “Did something happen again? Did they come back?”
“No, no, amigo…” Umberto hesitated. But his voice was off. Low. Weighed down. Dreadful.
Tommy’s grip tightened. “What about Maude?”
A long pause. Too long.
“Just… just come here. Quick.”
Something cold slithered through Tommy’s chest, squeezing tight. The breath in his lungs turned razor-sharp.
His hand clenched around the gear shift. Without hesitation, he yanked the wheel, swerving away from the bridge to Starfish Island. He slammed his foot down, sending the Cheetah hurtling forward, straight toward Little Havana.
Whatever had happened… whatever Umberto wasn’t saying, he couldn’t waste another second.
Not with Maude.
Not again.
Notes:
Thank you so much for reading <3
Chapter 64: Slip of the Tongue
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
WITH HER EYES closed, Asuka listened carefully, the soft hum of the city paling in her surroundings. Though her head bobbed up and down in understanding, her heart couldn’t help but sink with disappointment. Even Marcus, standing before her with a callous expression, couldn’t hide his displeasure upon learning that his boss wouldn’t make it to his own daughter’s baby shower.
“Please tell everyone I’m sorry,” Tommy said, his voice palpably dismal. “Does Reena know I’m coming?”
Asuka bowed her head. “We haven’t told her yet. It wouldn’t hurt her if she didn’t know.”
Tommy fell silent for a moment, then, he let out a deep-seated sigh. “Look, I really didn’t expect this to happen,” he explained. “I’ll try my best to get there–”
“No, Tommy, it’s okay,” Asuka replied. “Just call Reena when you can. She constantly worries about you.”
Without waiting for Tommy’s response, Asuka hung up. She swiftly turned her attention to the roof deck. Maria and 8-Ball were diligently setting up decorations in the firepit area. Taking a deep breath to steady herself, Asuka stepped forward and joined them, eager to make the celebration as special as possible, despite Tommy’s absence.
The box that contained the message “Look behind you!” remained on the table, nestled among the other gifts. Asuka knew it was meant to be the signal for Reena to find Tommy, but she had to remove it now.
As she reached for the box, Maria grabbed her wrist, stopping her from taking the item away. “Hey, where are you taking that?” she hollered.
Careful about others not to hear, Asuka moved closer to her side. “Tommy’s not coming.”
“What?!” Maria exclaimed. “Why?!”
Asuka shushed her, tugging Maria’s wrist and almost making him falter. “Can you please keep your voice down–”
“So, he ain’t comin’ no more?” 8-Ball interrupted. “I knew he had no balls to be here.”
Asuka shot 8-Ball a stern look, hoping to discourage any further negative comments. “We don’t know for sure,” she retorted. “Let’s focus on making this party special for Reena, okay?”
8-Ball scoffed, his lips forming a taunting smile. “Yeah, because her husband couldn’t be here, so we gotta play his part…” he remarked, his tone laced with utter sarcasm.
Here he was again, saying things out of spite. All Asuka could do was shake her head in dismay, knowing well she couldn’t win against 8-Ball’s cynicism. She threw Marcus a furtive glance, scanning his face for a reaction. Asuka was certain he heard 8-Balls words, but Tommy’s henchman remained nonreactive.
Soft thumps that turned louder with each passing second approached, drawing the attention of Asuka, Maria, and 8-Ball, all of them turning in the direction of the sound. Suddenly, Leigh emerged from the stairs and hurtled toward the firepit, his face drenched with sweat that streamed down his head. He stopped momentarily, leaning over with his hands on his knees, trying to catch his breath. Then, he stood back up, gulping for air as he tried to regain his composure.
“They’re coming!” he said, pointing back to the building. “The elevator’s coming!”
“Did you climb up the stairs?” Marcus asked, looking at his twin brother with a silly face.
“Of course!” Leigh huffed as Marcus held his laughter. “Where’s Boss?!”
Marcus’s eyebrows furrowed, a soft downturn of the corners of his mouth. He walked past Leigh, patting his shoulder with a firm touch, and joined the others as they rushed toward the door. As if Leigh understood, he wiped the dampness off his face and stood beside his brother.
They all lined up, and Maria and 8-Ball clutched the party poppers tightly in their hands. The elevator screen flashed brightly, signaling their arrival on the floor. Anticipation filled the air, and the doors swung open, revealing Reena, Cleo, and Mrs. Hubbard inside. A wide smile spread across Asuka’s face as she saw the excitement in Reena’s eyes and the surprise on Cleo’s face. Mrs. Hubbard beamed with joy, exchanging knowing glances with them.
Cleo’s jubilant giggle went contagious as they launched the party poppers, the pieces of confetti bursting in the air like a rainfall of colorful showers. The boy’s face lit up with awe at the sight of colorful balloons tied to the chairs, dancing and bouncing in the air.
Reena was in tears, and Asuka was sure they were tears of joy.
“Come on, Mama, stop crying!” Maria coaxed, wrapping her arms around Reena’s body, swaying her into a dance like the balloons freely floating.
Asuka’s heart swelled with joy as they all walked back to the sunken area surrounded by cozy outdoor couches. Beneath the clear, night sky where stars intermittently blinked in the velvet darkness, the bonfire blazed in the concrete pit, its radiant flames flickering and dancing gracefully, offering a comforting warmth to battle the chilling cold of the evening. The air carried a tantalizing aroma of grilled yakitori and teriyaki, a medley of sizzling sounds wafting through the air. The surrounding black cobblestone served as a table, adorned with an array of Japanese delicacies that turned the space into a feast. Succulent sushi rolls, crispy tempura, and delicate sashimi were arranged creatively on platters, accompanied by steaming bowls of miso soup and fragrant jasmine rice.
“Oh my goodness,” Reena said, her eyes sparkling. “Those are my favorites!”
Maria proudly lifted her chin. “I helped in preparing those!”
“Miss Latore mixed the rice with mirin,” Mrs. Hubbard interjected, causing Asuka to chortle.
“Yes, and that was her big help,” Asuka said, putting a seal on Maria’s claims.
Cleo’s eyes were fixed on the Maki rolls, and he eagerly pointed at the tray, tugging at Mrs. Hubbard’s hands as if asking for a piece. 8-Ball followed close behind, taking the initiative to grab a Maki roll for Cleo and himself. Showing Cleo how it was done, 8-Ball tossed the food into his mouth, humming in satisfaction. The little boy followed suit, biting into the rolls with enthusiasm, leaving rice and fish roe sticking to his lips and cheeks.
“I-I really didn’t expect this…” Reena whimpered, brushing her knuckles over her cheeks that were moistened with tears.
“Of course, we worked quietly!” Maria proudly cried as she yanked her toward the table. “We thought you’d love it!”
Reena giggled like a child, surrendering herself to Maria’s pulling.
“I’m surprised you didn’t notice our secret talks and errands,” Asuka teased, side-eyeing Reena with a funny look on her face. “Maria claims you’re distracted.”
Biting her lip, Reena tucked her hair behind her ear and peered sheepishly. “Yes, I was. But I’m doing fine now.”
“Is it because Tommy hasn’t been calling you more frequently than he should?” Maria teased, pinching Reena’s waist playfully.
8-Ball gently took Cleo and settled the boy on his lap, grabbing a napkin to wipe the traces of food from his face. “He should call you every day, in fact, every time,” he added, the stern resolve in his voice revealing disappointment.
“He’s… he’s just busy, 8-Ball, that’s all,” Reena said, defending her husband.
“As if it’d take him a day to talk to you…” He jeered with almost no attempt to hide his contempt. “He couldn’t even keep up with his promise and be here–”
“The godfather is just being protective,” Asuka threw in, and from Reena, her gaze shifted to 8-Ball. 8-Ball just scowled and rolled his eyes.
“Why don’t we just start opening the gifts now?!” Maria yelled, catching all of their attention. She took a small box and stuck her arms out to the little boy. “This is from Uncle 8-Ball to Cleo!”
8-Ball eagerly reached for the gift and playfully shook it before Cleo’s curious eyes. The boy tore it open with excitement, revealing a small toy car nestled within. Instantly, it found its place in Cleo’s eager, dirty hands, his face lighting up with delight and excitement.
Asuka recalled the moments when she’d watch Reena immerse herself in playtime with her son in the condominium, racing toy cars, making zooming sounds, and even adding crashing effects for added fun, knowing to herself that the boy’s favorite toy was a car. But 8-Ball’s gift was special; it was twice the size of Cleo’s hand, battery-operated, and designed to mimic real cars. Its headlights and taillights flickered just like a real vehicle, and a button at the bottom allowed it to blare like a horn, allowing the boy to do a lot of things with it.
To say that Cleo was smitten was an understatement.
“Tommy said when Cleo’s old enough, he’d teach him how to drive,” Reena said, chuckling as she gazed at her son. “I don’t want him to grow old just yet…”
The presents kept coming, one after another, revealing a treasure trove of thoughtful gifts. From blankets to stuffed toys, cotton dresses to breast pumps, and a range of baby essentials such as bottles and packs of powdered milk – each gift was met with overwhelming appreciation. Reena’s emotions ran high as laughter and tears of joy mingled, overwhelmed by everything.
Asuka smiled to herself, feeling the success of their planned celebration even without the person she knew Reena looked forward to the most.
“Does Tommy tell you if he wants a boy or a girl?” Maria asked enthusiastically as she patted Reena’s belly.
“No, he doesn’t. And… I’m nervous to tell him…” Reena’s voice quivered slightly.
“Why should you?” Maria asked while grabbing Ebi tempura from the tray. “As if you can control the gender, and what’s wrong with a girl?”
“That’s right…” Asuka agreed. “I’m sure that Tommy would be happy. Have you thought of a name?” she asked, tilting her head to the side.
Reena nodded and placed her hand over her baby bump. “Tamia would be nice.”
“Oh, such a beautiful name, dear!” Mrs. Hubbard exclaimed, unable to contain her excitement, but she quickly covered her mouth, her bubbly face turning red with embarrassment. “I’m sorry, Reena, I wasn’t able to stop myself!”
“It’s okay Mrs. Hubbard, and yes, it is!” Reena exclaimed joyfully, touching the old woman’s arm affectionately. “Tommy’s favorite shirt has palm trees in it, even the estate’s filled with them. Tamia in Hebrew is palm trees…”
“A truly lovely choice,” Asuka commented, her own heart warmed by Reena’s happiness.
“Great,” 8-Ball whispered, his head lowered toward the little boy on his lap. “Tamia sounds like Tommy… just like how Cleo sounds like Claude.”
Reena seemed taken aback by 8-Ball’s comment. Asuka looked at her with concern, then at 8-Ball, unable to discern if his remark was merely naïve, snarky, or both. Now, his abhorrence seemed clearer. His silence when Reena revealed her pregnancy, his attachment and favoritism toward Cleo, and his snide remarks whenever Tommy was mentioned all pointed to a growing disdain. It wouldn’t take long for Reena to connect the dots and realize that 8-Ball despised her husband.
Even Maria stared at 8-Ball with the same shocked expression, her eyes and mouth gaping wide. Mrs. Hubbard looked confused, while Marcus and Leigh just stood still on the side, though Asuka knew they were listening too.
8-Ball stopped playing with Cleo and looked at all of them, lifting a brow. “What? What’s wrong with what I’ve said?”
“That’s uncalled for, 8-Ball,” Asuka said in a somber voice.
“I was just telling the truth,” he claimed, finally lifting his gaze to Reena. “She named Cleo after Claude.”
Asuka felt her temples throb. “That’s enough.”
“It’s alright,” Reena interjected, her fingers curling on her dress, on her baby bump. “I-I did name Cleo after him.”
8-Ball stood from his seat. Cleo looked up at him, seemingly disappointed for leaving his side, calling him uncle in broken words, but he ignored. 8-Ball scanned all their faces, from Mrs. Hubbard to Asuka, to Maria, then, to Reena, halting at her once again with a definite glower.
“How do you expect me to be happy for you when your husband, who’s supposed to be here, canceled the last minute ‘cause something came up?!”
Reena’s eyes grew large, and Asuka felt her jaw drop in shock. She could sense that Maria had the same reaction. Even Marcus and Leigh, who were standing at a distance, seemed to stiffen, visibly unsettled by 8-Ball’s abrupt revelation.
“He’s supposed to come?” Reena probed, her shoulders slumping.
Asuka clenched her teeth. She wanted to understand 8-Ball, searching for any reason to justify his actions, but it was difficult. Her chest hurt with defeat, her heart heavy with the weight of his words. In response, 8-Ball glared back, his hands clasped into tight fists, his chest heaving with strained breath, his defiance unyielding.
“Seems like I spoiled the fun, didn’t I?” he asked, looking back and forth between her and Reena. “I hope you don’t forget who you truly love, isn’t that right, Serena?” 8-Ball stepped back, turned around, and marched his way out of the roof deck, leaving Asuka and the rest of them behind in the sunken firepit.
Silence fell over them. Nobody dared to speak, not even Maria. They all stared at each other, yet, their gazes seemed to pierce through, landing at nowhere. What was supposed to be a day of celebration turned into a confrontation that nobody expected.
But Asuka was resolute to get to the bottom of this. She knew 8-Ball wanted Reena to remember about Claude, but slapping her with accusations was not doing any good. She stood from her seat, tugged her coat, and trod out of the firepit, determined to follow him and make him see some sense.
The heels of her shoes clanked against the tiles, matching the rhythm of her heart. Asuka curled her fists, feeling her fingernails dig through her palms.
Not spotting him in the lobby, she swiftly scanned the area, eventually catching sight of a Yakuza near the elevator door. Asuka approached him, causing the Yakuza to stiffen and lower his posture in response.
“8-Bōru wa doko e itta ka, mita?” she asked as calmly as she could.
“Kare wa hooru o aruite, oyassan,” the man said, pointing a hand in the direction where 8-Ball had gone.
The dimly lit halls were bathed in an eerie glow from the moon. Asuka spotted 8-Ball, his hands resting on the windowsill, gazing out at the towering buildings that enveloped them. At first, he looked distraught, as if he was on the verge of tears, but his gaze seemed to lock somewhere, and Asuka saw them grow large.
“We need to talk,” she said.
8-Ball remained rooted to his spot, and as he briefly glanced at Asuka, she saw the worry etched across his face. He soon turned his attention back to the outside view, his expression deeply unsettling. Intrigued and concerned, Asuka moved closer. 8-Ball’s mouth was slightly agape as if grappling with something he couldn’t understand.
“What’s going on–”
“I-I think we’re being watched,” he whispered, cutting her off midway. Asuka grimaced as he turned in the direction of the building again, but his face frowned even more. “I-I think I saw two men up there,” he said, pointing at the other skyscraper.
“Could they just be occupants?”
“With binoculars?” 8-Ball asked, dread remarked on his face. “No, they’re not.”
Asuka gazed out the window, her eyes scanning the surroundings, but the disquieting feeling left by 8-Ball’s words lingered, preventing her from finding ease. She touched his arm, then turned to walk back down the hall from where she had come.
“Kite!” she ordered, and within moments, a group of Yakuzas swiftly appeared, assembling on the floor alongside her and 8-Ball. They encircled her attentively, prepared to execute any command she issued.
She pointed at the building that 8-Ball was referring to.
“Check for suspicious men from the other buildings that could view us here quickly!”
“Hai, oyassan!”
With a swift motion, Asuka firmly clasped 8-Ball’s wrist, pulling him back out onto the deck. The lights around Torrington resembled scattered constellations, shimmering brilliantly on that wintry night, a contrast to the doom that loomed behind them. The frigid air brushed against her skin, and she hadn’t noticed how much chillier it had become since they left the warmth of the fire pit.
All eyes in the sunken area fixed upon Asuka and 8-Ball as they emerged into the open, their presence drawing glances from everyone present, including Reena.
The Yakuzas quickly ascended to the roof deck and positioned themselves along the outer edges, particularly toward the building that Asuka instructed them to look at. Marcus and Leigh, sensing the urgency of the situation, promptly joined the Yakuzas, diligently scanning the nearby buildings, both lower and higher, in search of any suspicious individuals.
“What’s going on?” Maria asked as she rose from the couch. “What are they looking for?”
“I-I saw some men watching you from the other building just a bit earlier…” 8-Ball declared, still keeping his gaze off Reena.
One of the Japanese men approached them, respectfully stooping down before Asuka, and he handed her a phone. She quickly took the cell and stepped away from the group, moving to a distance where she could have some privacy. She pressed the device close to her ear as she swallowed down the lump growing in her throat.
“Nani?” she asked.
“We found two Sentinels leaving the premises.”
Her breath hitched. Not again.
Asuka handed the phone back to the Yakuza, feeling somber, and then she walked back to the firepit area. “My boys confirmed. I’m afraid 8-Ball was right.”
“They must have followed you here…” Maria said as she turned to Reena. Asuka nodded in agreement, her mind racing with possible scenarios, while Reena’s face contorted with worry, holding Cleo tightly as if to protect him from any unseen danger.
“We have to go back to Newport. It’s no longer safe,” Asuka declared. With a firm look, she motioned for Marcus and Leigh to approach. “Take Reena, Cleo, and Mrs. Hubbard with you. We’ll get you covered,” she instructed, her gaze shifting between them.
Marcus and Leigh nodded, understanding the seriousness of the situation. “Let’s go, Miss Reena,” Leigh said, gently holding her by the crook of her elbow as she stood from her seat. She did not protest. Mrs. Hubbard scooped Cleo into her arms while Marcus stood beside them, keeping them behind him. They followed Leigh and Reena closely.
Asuka turned to Maria and 8-Ball. “You’re both coming with me,” she said, leaving no room for objections. “Let’s make sure there are no unwanted guests following us.” They moved swiftly and discreetly, keeping an eye on their surroundings for any signs of trouble. The Yakuzas maintained a vigilant watch, their sharp eyes scanning every corner.
As they made their way through the dimly lit halls, the pressure in the air was palpable. Each footstep echoed softly, and their breaths hung in the frigid air. Upon reaching the lobby, they were greeted by the guards who had been stationed there. They had kept a close watch on the building’s entrances and exits, ensuring no one would slip in unnoticed.
Outside, the others gathered by the waiting vehicles. Leigh opened the car door for Reena and Mrs. Hubbard, while Marcus kept a watchful eye on their surroundings. Once Reena, Cleo, and Mrs. Hubbard were safely inside the vehicle, Leigh closed the door gently, and Marcus climbed into the driver’s seat.
Asuka, 8-Ball, and Maria stood, their eyes darting around, scanning for any sign of trouble. Asuka’s heart raced as she watched the car carrying Reena and the others and the Stingers disappear into the distance, worry overwhelming her senses.
Sentinels. She and Maria had seen one in the parking lot of the restaurant before, and now, even in her very own casino…
Asuka couldn’t let their guard down. Not under her watch.
Notes:
This is in reference to This is an implied reference to Under Surveillance (GTA III).
Thank you so much for reading <3
Chapter 65: Ensnared
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
REENA AIMLESSLY TUGGED the sheets and flattened them on the bed, feeling the exhaustion brought by lack of sleep in her body. Last night, she was unable to find rest as fear rippled through her chest. Danger lurked, that was for sure, but what bothered her even more was the sting of 8-Ball’s words that seemed to carve a wound in her heart. The haunting look on his face, the piercing glares, and his condemning tone replayed in her thoughts, leaving her questioning herself.
Does he hate me?
She sensed that he wanted to say more… to tell her something that he’d been holding back for so long, but 8-Ball moved away from her. Not a call nor a message from him went through her phone, but even she didn’t have the strength to make the first move.
Reena grappled with the knowledge that 8-Ball disapproved of Tommy. She pretended to accept his reasons for missing her wedding, but deep down, she knew it was because he disagreed of her being with him. This new life was overwhelming, and even she struggled to embrace it, but hadn’t 8-Ball once encouraged her to live life on her terms? And now, despite finding happiness with Tommy, Reena couldn’t understand why 8-Ball wasn’t the same supportive friend he used to be.
Determined to settle things herself, Reena wouldn’t let the day pass without talking to 8-Ball. She was willing to go to his auto yard, despite Asuka forbidding her, and she’d even drag Leigh along if necessary.
They had to talk. She had to.
Reena donned a long dress and a warm coat, mindful of the cold climate compared to the snowless south. She layered up, particularly on her hips and legs, where she sometimes experienced shooting pain. Seated before a mirror, she quickly brushed her hair, holding the wispy strands with a clip just like she always did.
Tommy hadn’t called yet. If he already knew about last night’s events, she expected him to blow up her phone with calls and messages. The thought of reaching out to him to explain what was happening crossed her mind, but she chose to put her phone down, fixing her gaze on the mirror once more.
8-Ball claimed that Tommy was meant to be at the party but chose something else over her. Reena shook her head, refusing to believe that Tommy didn’t want to be there. She knew he wouldn’t willingly miss such an important thing, and she couldn’t let 8-Ball’s words tarnish her impression of her husband.
The dark eye bags below her eyes seemed more pronounced, and she gently rubbed the back of her hand on her face, feeling the dryness of her skin. Despite the imperfections she noticed, her attention shifted to her baby bump, and a smile found its way to her lips as she felt the gentle movements within, shifting and stretching against her skin.
“What would your papa do now that you keep on moving, Tamia?” she asked as if she was already talking to her upfront.
As she ran her palm over her belly, memories began flooding her mind. When did Cleo start to move?She couldn’t recall if she was even able to notice when he began doing so. During that time, her mind was filled with loneliness and worries, accompanied by unfulfilled wishes that were worsened by recurring nightmares and hopelessness. Reminiscing those moments, thoughts of him came rushing back, and the same pinch that always lingered in her chest became apparent once again.
Reena missed him a lot. Not a day had passed without her thinking about him. Even if she was with Tommy, Claude never left her mind and her heart. She often found herself daydreaming about how he’d react if he knew about Cleo, wondering if he’d have taken care of her and their baby just like Tommy did. She didn’t notice that her mind was drifting far, back to the time they found each other until she realized that she was in the very place where they spent much of their time together.
The pain remained, causing her to clutch at her chest.
Was she betraying Tommy if she thought of Claude?
“Mama!”
Her heart skipped a beat when Cleo came running through the door with his arms wide open. The boy fell into her embrace, giggling, and she couldn’t be more thankful for her son, who pulled her out of the unwanted reveries she had inadvertently fallen into.
“What’s up with you?” she asked sweetly, lifting him to her lap and giving him kisses on the cheeks.
As she listened to Cleo’s laughter, Reena was struck by a sudden question. How long had it been since she mentioned his father to Cleo? He must have been very little then, unable to retain memories of the things she’d told him about Claude.
“Do you know how much I love your papa?” she asked, rubbing her nose against her son’s head.
“Papa?” the boy asked, looking up at her with wide, curious eyes. In his innocence, he probably thought of Tommy, for it was Tommy he’d known as his father all along. And while she loved Tommy deeply, she couldn’t deny that Claude held an irreplaceable place in her heart, a place that would remain eternally his.
Reena smiled tenderly, her thumb caressing her son’s soft cheek. “Yes, Papa Claude,” she whispered, a bittersweet emotion filling her heart as memories of the past and the reality of the present intertwined in her mind.
One day, Cleo had to know.
“Papa?” he asked once more. “Claude?”
Her heart ached with both joy and sorrow as she heard her son say his father’s name, even if it wasn’t perfectly pronounced. “Yes baby, Claude…” A tear escaped her eye, and with a chuckle, she nodded, gently caressing Cleo’s cheek. “I’m sure he’d love you just as much as I do.”
Mrs. Hubbard arrived and stopped at the doorway, holding her hands together and smiling. “Cleo keeps on demanding for you!” she cried happily, though the gleeful expression on her face changed when she looked down at Reena’s clothes. “Are you going somewhere, dear?”
Reena sniffed and wiped the tear on her face. The old woman didn’t seem to notice it, fortunately. “Yeah, I’m taking Leigh with me. Please watch Cleo, will you?”
“But hasn’t Miss Kasen said you can’t leave the condominium?”
Cleo slid down from her lap to the floor, then he ran past Mrs. Hubbard in the doorway. “I need to talk to 8-Ball,” she said. “Promise I’ll be quick.”
“Was this about last night?”
Reena always assumed Mrs. Hubbard didn’t know about her past; she’d never shared a single detail about it when the old woman started working for her. Despite Mrs. Hubbard being a wonderful companion and treating Reena and Cleo with utmost love and care, Reena couldn’t bring herself to confide in her.
“It’s hard to explain–”
“My dear,” Mrs. Hubbard came to her and cradled her cheek just like how a mother would when her child was in distress. “Don’t ever think I’ll judge you… because I’ll never do. You’ve gone through a lot, I know. I’ve seen it,” she said with a smile so soothing and so gentle that Reena’s eyes began to sting. “And it doesn’t matter to me. I love Cleo, you, and Tamia just the same.”
In Mrs. Hubbard’s embrace, Reena experienced a kind of affection she’d never received from her own mother. The warmth of the old woman’s protective arms enveloped her, bringing a sense of comfort and reassurance. As tears rolled down her cheeks, she felt a release of guilt, loneliness, and yearning, as if the weight of her past had been lifted.
“If Claude were here, I knew he’d love you too,” Reena murmured against Mrs. Hubbard’s arms.
“And I’d loved to meet him.” The old woman lifted her chin. “Now, you stop crying, okay?” she said, but it seemed like she was also on the brink of crying. “If you need to go to 8-Ball, then do so, but please, be careful, and tell Miss Kasen.”
Biting her lip, Reena nodded enthusiastically. “I will. I promise.”
The sunlight seeped through the blinds that covered the windows, providing subtle warmth to their surroundings. Reena let go of Mrs. Hubbard, and as the old woman left the room, she stood and gathered her things. She found Cleo in front of the television, playing with his toys as a show played on the screen, so she planted a kiss on the top of his head without him noticing her. She gave Mrs. Hubbard a firm yet tender smile, and then she turned to Leigh and grabbed his wrist.
“You’re coming with me,” she said. “Take me to 8-Ball.”
Leigh’s surprise and disinclination were evident, and although he looked like he wanted to protest, he didn’t attempt to stop her as she pulled him out of the suite and down the hall. It seemed he understood why she urgently wanted to talk to her friend after witnessing last night’s confrontations.
As they cruised around Newport, Reena found herself frequently glancing at the rear and side view mirrors, searching for any signs of other vehicles that might be tailing behind them. The streets were bustling with activity, devoid of any palpable threats, making her feel at ease. She noticed that Leigh did the same too, but he never spoke of it.
“I told Marcus we’re going to the auto yard,” he said, casting her a glance.
“What did he say?” she asked, nervously playing with her fingers on her lap.
“Of course, he’s livid.”
Leigh slowed down around the block they turned to, a place that Reena realized was familiar to her. Between tall commercial buildings was one of the alleyways that led to 8-Ball’s spot. Beyond the rows of structures was the massive multi-story parking lot, a place close to the old safehouse.
They entered the alleyway, their path riddled with dried leaves and specs of dirt. Leigh slowed down as soon as they reached the open space, harboring the car before the garage door.
“Stay here, Miss,” Leigh murmured as he got out of the car.
Reena nodded as she nervously watched Leigh approach 8-Ball’s door.
His hand banging on the rolling steel door echoed like a thousand metal sheets falling at once. “Mr. Hudson!” he called out. “Miss Reena wants to speak with you!”
With her eyes trained on Leigh, Reena admitted to herself that she couldn’t just stay seated and wait. Albeit being told to stay, she pushed the door open and led herself out, her hand falling on the top of her baby bump.
The auto yard felt eerily empty, and a strange silence enveloped the compound, muffling the usual sounds of birds chirping and cars passing by. It was as if her emotions had numbed her senses to everything else around her. The dry leaves, fallen from the tree on the far end, rustled underfoot as the wind swept them along with the swirling dust. Each gentle breeze sent a shiver down Reena’s spine, making her hug herself tightly, trying to find warmth within her coat. The frigid air seemed relentless, refusing to be chased away even by the high sun. The towering buildings that surrounded the area cast deep shadows, preventing the sun’s rays from penetrating.
Behind Leigh, she halted, watching the door shake as he kept on knocking. After several minutes of persistent attempts, Leigh stopped, letting his hands fall to his side, and sighed, his lips curving downward in disappointment as he turned around.
“Looks like he isn’t here, Miss…”
Leigh’s retreat left her feeling frustrated, but she couldn’t bear to give up just yet. As he walked back to the car, she mustered her determination and approached the door again. Taking matters into her own hands, she knocked firmly and called out her friend’s name, hoping that the sound of her voice would somehow reach him and elicit a response.
“8-Ball!” she cried out, feeling the cold steel against her palm. “It’s Reena!”
“Maybe he’s in Shoreside Vale,” Leigh muttered.
Reena glanced over her shoulder, contemplating the possibility of finding their friend there. Despite her desire to wait longer, the feeling of defeat weighed heavily upon her, prompting her to give in and trudge wearily back toward the van with Leigh.
As Reena prepared to get into the vehicle, she noticed a vehicle approaching the entrance of the alleyway.
“Is that… 8-Ball?” she asked, her eyebrows furrowing.
“I don’t think so,” Leigh answered. “Maybe just a customer.”
The car stopped halfway, its low rumbling surrounding the area. With caution, Reena entered the passenger seat, fastened her seatbelt, and leaned against the cushion. However, her curiosity got the best of her, and she found herself peering through the side view mirror, where she saw the headlights of the other car switch off.
Tinted windows. Black sedan.
“Do you know where his auto yard in Shoreside Vale is?” Leigh asked. “We can get there if you want.”
“No, Leigh, let’s just go back to the condominium,” she mumbled, still staring at the car suspiciously.
Leigh drove back to maneuver and turned the car around toward the alleyway. The moment he did, his eyes narrowed. At the far end was a sedan blocking the way. “What are they doing there?” he asked.
“I-I don’t know, Leigh…”
Leigh maneuvered the car in reverse, allowing them to turn toward the west side of the compound. As he made a left turn, Reena gripped the seatbelt strap tightly, her heart pounding in her chest. She sensed Leigh’s tension too, evident by his sudden hard braking. Another car emerged, blocking their path just like the first one, seemingly trapping them within the confines of the compound.
A Sentinel.
Pressing the dash compartment open, Leigh drew a pistol. He carefully inspected the weapon, pulling back the slide to reveal the chamber, and confirm if there were bullets loaded. His eyes followed each round, then released the slide, readying the firearm for use.
“This isn’t looking good, Miss Reena,” Leigh whispered, his jaw clenched in tension. “No matter what happens, keep your head down. And call Miss Kasen. Now.”
Without hesitation, Reena obeyed Leigh’s order. Her hand moved swiftly as she fumbled for her phone and dialed Asuka’s number, pressing the device to her ear while she instinctively lowered her head. The phone rang, and with each passing second, it felt like an eternity until it dropped. Asuka didn’t answer.
The air felt thicker, and Reena’s heart pounded in her chest as she tried to figure out what to do next.
Her hands trembling with fear, Reena desperately searched for Maria’s contact on her phone. She dialed her number, hoping for some reassurance, but her anxiety grew when Maria didn’t pick up either.
Reena lifted her eyes, only to find her worst fears confirmed – men in black suits emerged from the Sentinel parked right in front of them. The air around them felt heavy and suffocating, as the ominous figures closed in, leaving them trapped.
Leigh swiftly unlocked his seatbelt and pressed her head down below the dashboard. “Stay down, Miss.”
Reena followed his lead, crouching down as far as she could, her heart racing up to her throat. As Leigh got out of the car, gunshots rang out in the air, shattering the tense silence. The assailants opened fire, their bullets piercing through the car’s windows and metal body.
Leigh quickly took cover behind the door and returned fire. He shouted for Reena to stay down, firing back at the approaching men. Reena instinctively covered her ears, wincing with each resounding thud of bullets hitting their car. Suddenly, a sharp crack split the air, and she watched in terror as a bullet tore through the windshield, sending glass shards flying and leaving a chilling hole in the headrest just inches from where she crouched.
She should fucking keep her head down.
The deafening sound of another shot echoed through the air, startling Reena to the core. The impact was so close that she felt a rush of air brushing against her cheek, and her ears throbbed with the piercing pain. Leigh’s swift movements drew her attention as he jumped back into the car, his face determined and focused. The sound of the heavy door shutting reverberated in her ears, adding to the cacophony of chaos.
“Sit up!” he ordered.
Leigh’s words were the law to her now. Reena gripped the edges of her seat, feeling the acceleration press her back against the cushion. As the engine roared to life, the car jerked forward, accelerating with breathtaking yet fleeting speed.
The wind howled around the car, carrying the scent of burning rubber and the taste of fear.
Reena’s body lurched violently, but the seatbelt held her in place, preventing her from being tossed around like a rag doll. The tight squeeze between their car and the Sentinel sent shivers down her spine, and her knuckles turned white as she clutched the door handle.
“Are you okay, Miss?!” Leigh asked, concern etched on his face.
Her head throbbed from the intensity of the situation, but her concern shifted to Leigh when she noticed a trickle of blood on his forehead. Dragging her gaze down, she also found a gunshot wound to his side, leaking out fresh blood that he didn’t seem to notice himself.
“Y-You’re bleeding!” she cried, attempting to touch him.
“I’m fine! Don’t worry about me. Are you hurt?!”
“No, I’m not. I just hit my head a bit. But Leigh, you’re fucking shot–”
Leigh’s large hand forcefully guided her head down as the blast struck their car from behind. Reena flinched in her seat, the seatbelt pressing tightly against her skin and belly. With growing concern for her baby’s safety, she urgently unbuckled and released herself from the restraint.
Amidst the clamor of gunfire that boomed through the compound, Reena feared it would never cease. However, when the shots finally subsided, a fleeting sense of relief washed over her, only to be abruptly stolen as the backseat door swung open.
“Miss Reena! Leigh!”
Marcus’s voice was so thunderous that she thought it was someone else. From the backseat, he pulled her out, then Leigh, and outside, Asuka and the Yakuzas ran toward them.
“Reena! Are you alright?!” Asuka asked, palpably worried and angry at the same time. “I told you not to leave the condominium!”
“I just wanna talk to 8-Ball–”
“You’re so stubborn!” 8-Ball’s sudden appearance took Reena by surprise as he rushed toward her, embracing her tightly. “Is it so difficult to follow Asuka?!”
As 8-Ball’s arms enveloped her, Reena felt a flood of emotions washing over her. His embrace brought a mixture of relief, comfort, and frustration toward herself.
“I’m sorry…” she sobbed. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she whimpered against 8-Ball’s shoulders, overcome with remorse. She couldn’t help but acknowledge the consequences of her persistence, the gravity of her actions sinking in. Her decisions had led the Leones to them, endangering not only herself but also her baby and Leigh.
She saw Marcus assisting Leigh, the latter’s arm draped around his brother’s shoulder. She let go of 8-Ball, rushing toward Leigh, and she embraced him tightly, feeling relieved and worried all at once. She was grateful that they were safe, but the guilt still gnawed at her, knowing that her actions had put them in harm’s way. Despite that, she clung to him, thankful that they were all still here.
Leigh’s hand patted her back. “Hey, Miss, I’m still alive…”
“It’s my fault!” she yelled, cupping his cheeks in her hands. “I shouldn’t have forced you to come with me–”
“No, Miss Reena,” Leigh retorted, smiling yet grunting. “We even plan to go to Shoreside Vale, right?!”
Marcus smacked his brother’s head, causing Leigh to wince in pain. “Boss will kill you,” he reprimanded, his voice firm and stern.
Leigh cackled like it was nothing. “I’m sure about that…”
After Marcus gave her a firm nod, Reena let go of Leigh, watching them as they walked toward the car. No matter what Leigh said, she knew it was her fault, and as her disappointment in herself grew, she found herself running back to 8-Ball’s arms. She held him close and sobbed on his shoulder, muttering sorryover and over again. Her selfishness was what caused all this. She put Leigh in danger… she put her baby in danger, and her complete disregard for warnings gave other people inconvenience, including Asuka.
It was supposed to be a vacation… a time for her to spend with her friends, in the city where she found her life, in the place where she met the love of her life, but she ruined everything in just a snap.
And what would Tommy think of her this time?
Asuka cleared her throat, and it seemed like her anger died down a bit. “We gotta go.”
8-Ball and Asuka guided her toward one of the Stingers. Reena wiped her tears as she whimpered, and even if she tried her best to calm herself, she still hadn’t stopped crying.
“Relax, think of Tamia,” 8-Ball muttered while rubbing his hand over her back. Despite the tears continuing to stream down her cheeks, the sound of him saying her baby’s name caused Reena to pause and turn her attention to him. She noticed a radiant smile on his face, a stark contrast to the way he appeared last night.
The Stinger moved, and before long, the dazzling rays of light captured her eyes as they got out of the alleyway.
“My men reported seeing more Leones around Torrington this morning, and just a few moments ago, they’d seen a group in the other part of Newport.” Asuka’s voice was filled with concern as she leaned forward, holding Reena’s hands tightly. “We’ll do our best to protect you at all costs but we cannot risk Cleo… and Tamia.”
Reena’s heart sank in confusion. “What do you mean?” she asked.
“I’m sorry,” Asuka mumbled cumbersomely. She looked at 8-Ball, her eyebrows creasing at the center, then back at her. “But you have to go back to Vice City…”
Notes:
I'm feeling quite crazy today (plus, I really want to get over with this), so I'm posting three chapters.
Thank you so much for reading <3
Chapter 66: The Dead and the Living
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
THE SMELL OF polished wood mixed with the potent earthy and floral aroma of lilies and chrysanthemums filled the air. Candlelights flickered in front, illuminating the altar, shining a faint, yellowish glow that seemed to fade in each second. The chapel was quiet, its stillness disturbing, and the only thing Tommy could hear was his own breathing as he stared at Maude Hanson’s casket.
It was an unusual feeling, to mourn the death of someone he thought he didn’t care for. Tommy shed no tear, but his heart seemed to break every time he thought of Maude Hanson’s face. He’d been expecting her to die – she was old and frail, but somehow, it still felt so sudden, so untimely.
A few truck drivers came to the funeral, paying their respect to the old woman, leaving flowers in her wake. Her nephew was the only family she had that was close to her. The others were living in far states and countries, and they weren’t able to pledge their attendance to see Maude Hanson for the last time.
How stupid to use distance as a reason.
Some others came, including Pepe and Rico, sending their condolences to the woman who once made their lives miserable. Umberto hadn’t dropped by yet, but he said he’d come by later when the work in the diner was over.
Tommy’s shoulders slumped. He couldn’t explain the gravity of his emotions now.
He wasn’t even supposed to be here. He was supposed to be in Liberty City, celebrating their family, and spending time with Reena and Cleo. It hurt to set their reunion aside, his anticipation dying down in an instant. Guilt gnawed at him for not being there for his wife and children, as he knew how much they must’ve longed for his presence. He wished he could turn back time and be with them, to share in their happiness and to celebrate life.
Yet, on the other hand, he couldn’t bear to celebrate while knowing that someone dear to him had passed away.
As footsteps approached from behind, Tommy lacked the energy to turn around. He felt the presence of someone sitting beside him, a respectful distance maintained between them. Silence engulfed his thoughts, leaving him unable to think clearly until he eventually glanced over his shoulder and noticed the visitor at the far end of the pew.
To his surprise, it was Doris. She wore a full black blouse and pants, her hair neatly tied into a bun. Tommy hadn’t anticipated seeing her at the funeral, let alone paying her respects to someone she didn’t know.
The stillness between them was deafening. Tommy felt his mouth dry, unsure whether to start a conversation. Kaufman Cabs had not reopened yet. He ordered the operations to cease while the drivers were given a break after what happened to them. As far as he’d learned, Ted had stabilized, much to his delight, but there were still other things to fix, including securing the drivers’ protection during hostile encounters where they’d be able to defend themselves. Tommy didn’t want to leave Kaufman Cabs, Cherry Popper, and his other businesses, especially Print Works, to be unarmed, not while he was still in Vice City.
All of a sudden, Doris cleared her throat, making Tommy glance in her direction once more.
“I was looking for you,” she said, finally breaking the silence. “They said you weren’t in the estate, and Mike told me you’re here in the chapel.”
Tommy lowered his head, his gaze fixing to the floor. “Aren’t you supposed to be resting?” he asked. Tommy noticed that she was holding a folder. “What is that for?”
“You just gotta sign this,” she murmured, followed by a deep, heavy breath. Then, she stuck her arm out to her side, handing him over the folder.
Reluctantly accepting, Tommy opened the file. The papers were riddled with numbers – a ledger of expenditures and payments that were settled, all affixed with Doris’s signature, and all that was left was for him to put his. At the very back of the sheaves of paper was her resignation letter.
Tommy’s brows furrowed as he lifted his eyes to Doris, seeking an answer to the sudden paperwork handed to him. Confusion and concern filled his gaze as he waited for an explanation.
“Why are you giving me this?” he asked, unable to conceal his shock.
“You’re selling Kaufman Cabs, right?”
Tommy’s heart sank as he saw the tears welling up in Doris’ eyes. He could sense how difficult it was to blurt it out, a lump forming in his throat. She dropped the question like she’d been wanting to ask him for so long.
“Where did you learn that?” Tommy probed, his brows churning. He couldn’t fathom how she knew about his plans, and he felt a tinge of anxiety at the possibility of others finding out as well. “Who told you about that?”
Doris’ jeering scoff hit Tommy like a dagger. “If yes, please tell me, so I can tell the guys to prepare to get beaten again.”
He choked. Tommy didn’t imagine that Doris would be this blunt, yet, her straightforwardness didn’t reek of authority, but rather, of weakness, like when she came to the estate crying. This old woman, Tommy thought, like Maude Hanson, had dedicated her life to her job as a dispatcher, consuming her years of hard work in this company.
Now, he was bound to leave them, and he couldn’t understand why he was beginning to second-guess.
Doris rose from her seat, her arms falling to the side. “No one wants a good boss to leave,” she said, finally looking at him. Behind the thick eyeglasses she wore, he saw what looked like desperation in her weary gaze. “So if you will, please, don’t let us get blindsided.”
She left, but the weight of her words hung heavy in the air. Tommy looked at the folder in his hand. Doris had prepared everything he needed to do to ensure the smooth transfer of the depot to any prospective buyer. And though he wanted to deny it, she was right – he meant to sell the taxi company after all this ordeal.
Tommy swept his gaze around the chapel, seeing its utter emptiness. He remained seated, his decision bearing down on him. The silence in the chapel felt suffocating, and he felt the urge to escape, to get some fresh air and clear his mind.
Slowly, he rose and made his way outside. The cool breeze brushed against his face, providing some relief from the turmoil he was experiencing. He needed space and time to think, to make the right decision for himself and the people who depended on him.
As he headed for his car, his phone suddenly buzzed, making him stop in his tracks. Tommy retrieved his cell from his pocket, seeing Reena’s name on the screen. He realized that he hadn’t even called her or sent her a message since last night, making him feel guilty even more.
It felt like he hadn’t done anything right.
He took a heavy sigh, pressed the button, and lifted the device to his ear. “Hi,” he mumbled, unable to conceal the sullenness in his voice. “I’m sorry if I wasn’t able to–”
“Tommy, it’s Asuka.”
His face churned abruptly. “Why are you using Reena’s phone? Did something happen?”
“Yes,” she groaned almost immediately. “Before you ask, Reena and Cleo are safe, but Leigh was injured.”
As Tommy sought solace from the bustling road, he wandered deeper into the more peaceful part of the churchyard. He was drawn toward the Columbarium, where he found himself surrounded by a tranquil stillness, accompanied only by the presence of silent niches. The hushed atmosphere seemed to heighten his senses.
“Leigh? What happened to him?”
He could sense Asuka’s disappointment from the other end. “Last night, we found some Leones surveilling us. We had to cancel the celebration.”
Tommy’s nerves tugged within. He closed his eyes and pressed his fingers on his temple, the shooting pain overwhelming his body. His problem in Vice City might have subsided, but something else followed his wife and child in the North. Ire grew within him as he shook his head, trying to refocus on their conversation.
“Why didn’t you tell me immediately?” he probed. “You could’ve said it last night–”
“You were uncontactable, Tommy. Have you checked your logs?” Asuka asked, her voice tinged with dismay. “I tried calling you multiple times, but you never answered. Reena was in distress, but she went out today with Leigh while I was away, and they got trapped.”
“What?!” Tommy wasn’t able to stop himself from crying out loud, his voice thundering into the walls of the Columbarium. “How is she?!”
“Your wife’s fine, but as I said, Leigh was injured. He’s in the hospital with Marcus.”
Asuka’s words painted a chaotic picture in Tommy’s mind as she relayed to him everything that happened. A whirlwind of emotions surged within him – anger, worry, and a profound sense of frustration. The problem that started with 8-Ball, Reena’s desire to speak with him, and the order his wife purposely ignored to quell her guilt toward her friend made him struggle to make sense of Reena’s actions.
“I can’t believe she did this!” Tommy grumbled, trying to hold back his anger.
His letdown toward Reena grew like a smoldering ember, subtle yet distinct. For the very first time since they got together, he couldn’t understand his wife and why would she make such a reckless decision, putting herself and their child in harm’s way. He knew she cared deeply for her friend, but risking their safety was what he couldn’t comprehend.
Fear gripped him hard, and the guilt of not being there for his family made it even worse.
He sighed deeply, trying to compose himself, but his emotions were raging. He wanted to be supportive and understanding, but he couldn’t promise that he’d be able to mask his anger either when they faced each other.
“Go easy on her, Tommy. She made an unwise choice, but she certainly didn’t want this to happen,” Asuka said, but her attempt to defend Reena didn’t ease his fury, not even a bit.
“They gotta come home. I’m booking their flights tomorrow–”
“I already did,” Asuka interjected with an assuring tone. “I’ll be sending my Yakuzas with them to make sure they’re safe until they reach you.”
Tommy shut his eyes. His businesses were under threat, the loss of Maude left a void in his heart, and Doris’ resignation shook his trust in those he relied on. Amid all this chaos, the last thing he needed was another blow, and he didn’t know if he’d be able to handle it, not when it would come from the very person who was supposed to be the source of his strength.
“Do you want to speak with her?”
Asuka’s question pulled him out of his unwanted thoughts, urging him to open his eyes. Oh, how he’d loved to hear his wife’s voice all the time, wishing that he felt the same way now. His clench on the device slackened, and the sense of emptiness within him only grew deeper.
Tommy shook his head and pursed his lips, certain of what he wanted to do.
“No,” he said, and then he hung up.
IN THE DIM light of the setting sun, the cemetery sprawled before Joey, its tombstones standing like silent guards, each bearing the weight of memories and grief. The air held a faint scent of damp earth, mingling with the distant fragrance of flowers. As he stood there, the gentle breeze brushed against his skin, sending a shiver down his spine, and he could feel the soft crunch of fallen leaves under his shoes, adding to the somberness all around.
With the world outside the cemetery fading away, Joey’s mind was consumed by the memories of his father. The distant sound of birds chirping above, the rustling of leaves, and the occasional creaking of old tree branches intertwined with the distant murmur of the city, creating a melancholic symphony.
He bowed his head down and closed his eyes, putting himself into a deep concentration just as he intended to do.
“Lord, I ask for your forgiveness. Absolve me of all my sins,” Joey began, keeping his eyes tightly shut despite the shuffling footsteps that scrunched the dry grass in the cemetery. The sunlight filtered through the branches of ancient trees, casting dappled shadows over the gravestones. “I come here in your grace to send a message to my father, Salvatore Leone, who’s been a devout believer of yours all his life…”
As he uttered his words, the breeze seemed to carry his prayers heavenward, while the distant sounds of mourning doves and rustling leaves formed a poignant atmosphere to his heartfelt confession. The cool touch of the marble tombstone under his hand provided a tangible connection to his father’s memory, grounding him in the present moment.
The footsteps behind him lingered, but he pushed away any unease and continued, his voice carrying even more determination.
“Please tell the son of a bitch that I’m getting his money soon, and he can do nothing to stop me, even if he comes out of his grave and haunts me in my dreams.”
Amidst his prayer, Joey caught a faint chuckle, a clear sign of amusement in response to his words. He shook his head, determined to remain focused on his prayer.
“Tell him I almost got his daughter today, but maybe your divine intervention came just in time and she was able to escape unscathed again.” Joey sighed, feeling the ripple of wrath in his chest intensified. “Lord, the more you prolong this, the worse her fate will become. Amen.”
Joey took a deep breath, his words echoing through the solemn stillness of the cemetery. He opened his eyes, meeting the rows of weathered tombstones that seemed to bear witness to his anger. Gesturing the sign of the cross, Joey flashed a middle finger at Salvatore’s name on the tombstone, followed by a jeering snicker as he turned around and faced Ken Rosenberg.
The lawyer’s amused expression ignited a spark in Joey, compelling him to mirror his gestures in jest. Laughter, devoid of reason, filled the air for a fleeting moment. Soon after, Ken positioned himself beside Joey, and together they directed their gaze at Salvatore’s final resting place.
Since the reading of the will over a year ago, his father’s tombstone had remained untouched, never receiving a proper cleaning. Joey could still make out his name on the faded inscription, but most of it was obscured by patches of algae and lichen, robbing it of its original luster and causing discoloration. The passage of time had allowed overgrown grass and vegetation to encroach upon its edges, blurring its distinctiveness amidst the other graves that had long been forgotten and left to nature’s care.
A fitting condition for a dead father who disregarded his only son.
Joey reached into his coat’s inner pocket, pulled out a cigarette box, and extracted one stick. He placed it between his lips, letting it dangle as he ignited the match stick in his hand. A soft glow illuminated his face, and a faint trail of smoke curled upward, dancing around his fingers like an ephemeral waltz.
“The Yakuzas were ruthless, truly,” he said, his eyes fixed on the burning end of the cigarette stick. “But Tommy’s henchman got hurt, and some of the mafiosos escaped.”
Ken took a deep breath, inhaling the musty and earthy air that engulfed them. “I’m surprised you’re not very pissed off right now,” he claimed as he shrugged his shoulders. “You still didn’t get Reena. What do you plan to do next?”
Drawing in a deep breath, Joey gently exhaled, his vision momentarily hazed by the veil of smoke. The faint smell of tobacco lingered in the air, enveloping him in a cloud of familiarity and tranquility, just like every time he smoked in his father’s old office.
“I’m sure Asuka Kasen wouldn’t allow my sister to stay in Newport anymore,” he said, clasping the cigarette stick between his two fingers. The taste of nicotine remained in his mouth. “More or less, she’d send her back home.”
The lawyer pursed his lips in agreement. “Would you like to send some of your men to the airport?”
Joey nodded. “I will, but I don’t plan on stopping them from leaving.”
Every single day that passed since their last encounter in Angel Pine was a tormenting nightmare that Joey relived. He almost had her there... almost, if not for that meddling Tommy Vercetti. His attempts to reach Reena through the Juju woman had given him a glimmer of hope that was snuffed out again by Tommy’s interference, leaving him seething with hate for the man who seemed to thwart his every move.
Tommy Vercetti was a perpetual disruptor, always pulling him backward, undermining his progress, and hindering his plans at every turn. But now, as it seemed, Tommy was distancing himself from the criminal life, quietly selling off his businesses in Vice City. Joey couldn’t help but feel a mix of frustration and surprise at this change in Tommy’s priorities. It appeared he was willing to sacrifice everything he’d built, all the blood and sweat, for the sake of that goddamn bitch.
Joey couldn’t allow Tommy to walk away so easily. Tommy had always been in his way, and now, he saw an opportunity to turn the tables. Joey knew he could use the very person Tommy was protecting against him. It was time to play a dangerous game, and Joey was ready to exploit any weakness to settle the score once and for all.
A betrayed wife.
“Say, where’s our lovely business partner right now?” he asked, his voice dripping with excitement as he turned to Ken. He couldn’t hide the devious grin on his face.
“She’s in Vice City.” Ken’s answer was certain, a tinge of understanding in his voice.
A smirk laced Joey’s mouth as he excitedly put the cigarette between his lips. “Good, that’s good…” he commented. “She can do so much while she’s there…” He took another drag of his cigarette, the smoke swirling around him like a phantom.
As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows over the cemetery, Joey felt a shiver down his spine. The fading light seemed to accentuate the harshness of the tombstones, and the chilling air reminded him of the darkness that had always followed him. But he relished in it, knowing that he had some control now. With a wicked smile, he turned away from his father’s tombstone, envisioning a future where he’d finally have the upper hand and show his father that he got what he deserved.
The night was his canvas, and he was ready to paint it with revenge.
Notes:
Thank you so much for reading <3
Chapter 67: A Crack in the Glass
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
TOMMY STEPPED OUT of the estate, the sun blazing fiercely in the cloudless sky. The air was heavy with humidity, making every breath feel like a struggle. He shielded his eyes from the blinding rays, squinting as he surveyed the driveway. The Cheetah was already waiting for him, its metal body seemed to radiate heat, just like the asphalt road that shimmered in the distance.
As a trickle of sweat rolled down his head, Tommy hurried toward his car. Even the handle was too hot to touch, making him flinch a bit. When he opened the door, a rush of hot air greeted him from inside. Cursing, Tommy ignored the discomfort and slid into the driver’s seat, turning on the ignition. He immediately cranked up the air conditioning, and somehow, its cool breeze made him feel less bad.
It was not a good day for him. He was still pissed after discovering Reena’s reckless actions, making him not wanting to speak with her. Tommy didn’t want to say things he’d regret, especially out of spite, but the weather wasn’t really helping. If any, it made him even more irritated.
The road burned. Despite the cabin being filled with rather cool air, beads of sweat still lingered on his forehead. The way to the airport was excruciatingly unpleasant as Tommy battled against the heat of both the surroundings and his emotions.
Asuka said that Reena, Cleo, and Mrs. Hubbard had boarded the plane safely in the company of the Yakuzas. In thirty minutes, they’d be arriving at the airport. Albeit his annoyance, Tommy forced himself to fetch them. After all, he was relieved they were safe.
Upon reaching the area of Vice Point, the roads had become more congested. The chaotic sea of vehicles was sore to the eyes. Pesky honks and engine roars filled the air. Cars stood bumper-to-bumper, inching forward ever so slowly as if caught in an endless procession of frustration. Pedestrians weaved through the stagnant cars, their faces etched with weariness and annoyance as they tried to find a way through the labyrinth of congestion.
Tommy turned on the radio, trying to distract himself as he followed behind a slow-moving truck.
It’s a daunting 85 degrees today in Vice City as heat waves continue to swipe over the town. People are advised to keep their ventilations open and to always hydrate. Since last week, there have been sixty-eight cases of heat strokes reported by Ocean View Hospital, and the cases are expected to go higher as the temperature keeps on increasing. Meteorologists state that Vice City is supposed to have at least 78 degrees by now, but according to some experts, this extreme change in temperature is one of the effects of global warming…
“Global warming my ass,” Tommy grumbled as he stopped at another red light. Time appeared to stand still as the traffic crawled forward at a snail’s pace, leaving the commuters and drivers trapped in an exasperating dance of stop-and-go.
A knock on his window startled him, making him look to his left in an instant. In the middle of this hot day, Tommy felt he’d been splashed by cold water in the face as he found Mercedes smiling from the outside, stooping a bit.
“Tommy!” she yelled, a bright smile lacing her face. “Can I have a ride? I can’t get a taxi!”
He stiffened, thinking twice whether to roll the window down for her. He shook his head, hesitant to allow her to get close to him after their meeting last time. Yet, Mercedes didn’t stand up and leave as he wished she would. Her skin was glistening with sweat, droplets rolling down from her head, her neck down to her breasts…
Tommy tugged his gaze from her and looked around him in frustration. The traffic light was about to change in a few seconds, and surrounding them were other vehicles, no cabs in sight just as she said.
“Please, Tommy?” she begged, her voice muffled. “It’s boiling out here. My apartment’s just near, I can pay you if you like!”
Still adamant about not letting her in, Tommy found himself rolling his eyes. The traffic light on the other side went from green to yellow, giving him a few seconds. Torn about whether to leave her and drive away, Tommy finally pressed unlock and pointed at the backseat.
“Get in!”
Mercedes’s grin grew bigger and brighter, but she didn’t follow his instructions. Instead, she scooted around the hood toward the passenger seat.
“Hey, you’re supposed to get in the backseat!” Tommy frowned, glaring at her while she settled herself beside him.
“It’s hot…” she said, pouting her lips. “The air conditioning won’t reach me at the back…”
The light on their side turned green. In exasperation, Tommy held the gear and pushed it forward. “Damn it, Mercedes,” he groused, not waiting for the other drivers to honk their horns at him for delaying the traffic.
She quickly wrapped the seatbelt across her body, which was barely covered by the gray sports bra and pants she wore. As they moved forward, she started fanning herself, turning the air conditioning’s muzzle toward her. “I didn’t expect it would be scorching this morning!” she explained, letting herself sink into the leather seat as she took a deep, relaxing breath. “I was just jogging around when I lost track of time…”
Tommy couldn’t bear to look at her, but in his peripheral, he could see that she was brushing her hand over her wet chest before flipping her hair to the back of her shoulders. He took his hands off the steering wheel and looked at his wristwatch, his brow furrowing in frustration as he realized he only had twenty minutes to get to the airport.
All of a sudden, Mercedes turned toward him, leaning on her left side, her breasts pressing against the seat. Her hand fell on his forearm. “Thank you for giving me a ride–”
“Get your hands off me,” he nudged his elbow and held on to the gear again. “Let’s just get over this, shall we?!”
She chuckled, her laughter teasing. “You’re still so hot-headed. You haven’t changed a bit…”
The more he scowled and glared, the more Mercedes smirked. Discomfort and awkwardness surrounded his head as he drove toward her apartment, violating the speed limit just to get to their destination, and finally had her out of his car. The traffic was daunting and exhausting, and having her beside him didn’t make him feel any better.
To his surprise, he was still familiar with the streets they had to pass to get to Mercedes’s flat. For all he cared, he didn’t know that she even stayed there after her father left Vice City. Tommy navigated through the rows of houses and apartment complexes where he usually lingered, taking him back to moments when he and Mercedes would have fun in the car as things went steamy–
Shit, what the fuck am I thinking?
He recalled their meeting in the studio. Tommy was sure as hell he wasn’t feeling anything for her at all, but her attempts to get near him irritated and seemed to titillate him at the same time. When she touched his chest and her hand crawled down his body, he couldn’t understand why a sudden, faint, yet distinct excitement grew in his stomach, making his insides flutter.
As Mercedes’s apartment came into sight, Tommy was able to exhale the air he’d been holding in his lungs. He turned to the driveway, maneuvering the Cheetah up the ramp until they reached the door to her apartment building.
Finally, she’d be able to get out of his car, and he swore that this would be the last time she’d ever make this close to him.
“I know you still know where I live,” Mercedes said as she unbuckled her seatbelt, casting him a playful smile. “You can always go to me whenever you want…”
“Why would I do that?!” Tommy asked, his face churning in irritation, but his curiosity to know if they were thinking about the same thing was piqued.
As he pressed the button to unlock the door, Mercedes abruptly clutched his shirt and pulled him toward her.
Their lips touched. Tommy’s eyes gaped, and he wasn’t able to react immediately. He felt the seams of her luscious lips trace the corners of his cusps, her warm tongue touching the roof of his mouth–
Tommy shoved her away, causing her to bump against the car door. She let out a moan as her back hit the surface, but the sound didn’t appear to be out of pain.
“What the fuck are you doing?!” he cried out, the anger in his chest growing stronger each time. He couldn’t believe she just did that – stole a kiss from him, and made him feel something he wasn’t willing to indulge in.
Mercedes ran her fingers through her hair and snickered, followed by a bite to her lower lip. “Do you like that, Tommy?”
“Get out,” he ordered, and Tommy wasn’t sure what he’d do just to get her out of his damn fucking car.
She reached toward her back and opened the door. But before she closed it, she bent down, meeting Tommy’s gaze, her eyes burning in a ferocious whirlwind of sensuality.
“You still taste the same,” she said, then rose, shut the door, and left.
It was the fastest maneuver Tommy had ever executed, the wheels of his Cheetah screeching as he sped out of the apartment building’s driveway, leaving behind a trail of tire marks and oil stains on the pavement. Somehow, the heat of the weather felt benign compared to the heat he felt down his loins.
“Fuck!” he screamed, slamming his hand on the steering wheel.
His watch read five minutes past his family’s supposed arrival. He had run late, and the reason was what frustrated him even more. He stepped hard on the gas clutch, hurtling his car on the highway, violating the traffic rules and speed limits he didn’t care about. The other drivers blared their horns at him, but not a shit he gave.
He was angry. So, so angry with himself for allowing that to happen, and even more so, for enjoying it.
The thrill… he hadn’t felt that rush for a long time.
Tommy shook his head. No, he loved Reena, and he couldn’t even imagine hurting her. She was pregnant with their child and in distress, but here he was, almost giving in to his urges.
Guilt ate him up from the inside. How could he look at her face, knowing that someone else was etched in his mind? How could he kiss her, knowing that he tasted someone else’s lips? How could he embrace her, knowing that his body betrayed them both? In desperation, he wiped his forearm on his mouth, attempting to get rid of Mercedes’s taste.
Arriving at the airport, Tommy’s heart pounded with guilt and frustration. The bustling crowd welcomed their loved ones with jolly noises, but for him, it felt different. As he looked around, he spotted familiar faces scanning the crowd, accompanied by two Japanese individuals whose confidence was unmistakable, despite their casual attire.
Upon seeing him, Reena dropped the bag she was holding and ran into his arms, enveloping him in a tight and warm embrace. Tommy’s body went rigid, stiffening against his wife’s hold. The lilac scent of her hair wafted through his senses, but unlike before, he couldn’t savor it.
“I’m sorry, Tommy,” she mumbled in his chest, the warm trickles of her tears seeping through his shirt.
The Japanese that carried their luggage stooped down, and Tommy responded with a firm nod. Without a word, they left, joining the other Yakuzas who remained in the terminal, while he and Reena stood in the middle of the crowd, her arms encircling his body.
Mrs. Hubbard was holding Cleo, the boy asleep in her arms. The pressure Tommy felt somehow lightened, seeing his son safe and back home. With a couple of pats on Reena’s back, he unlatched from her embrace, tilting his head toward the Cheetah that awaited them.
“Let’s just get going,” he said, unable to hide the disdain in his voice.
He picked up their bags and turned around, leaving his wife behind. He put the suitcases in the trunk of his car, his mind still a mess. When he shut the lid, Tommy lifted his eyes, finding his wife looking at him, seemingly bothered by his coldness. Without saying anything, she held out her hand to Mrs. Hubabrd and walked with her to the car. Mrs. Hubbard and Cleo went to the backseat, while she slid into the passenger side.
It was a tense drive back home. Tommy couldn’t bring himself to look Reena in the eye, knowing that the last person who sat on her seat was Mercedes. He swallowed the lump in his dry throat, his guts twisting in shame, but he tried to shun the thoughts away, though he couldn’t. He couldn’t stop thinking about what happened with Mercedes, and it tormented him.
Reena cleared her throat, the soft sound she made pinching Tommy’s heart.
“Tommy,” she called out, her voice filled with concern. “I’m really sorry–”
“Don’t talk about it,” he retorted.
She tried to reach out and hold his hand, but he pulled away, pretending to focus on the road. Since then, she hadn’t attempted to make any move at all.
As they reached the house, he quietly got out of the car and gathered their things. Mike came to his aid and grabbed the luggage from his hands. When Reena got out, she held her arms out to take Cleo from Mrs. Hubbard, but Tommy went between them and took the boy instead.
Hugging Cleo close to his body, he trudged the steps toward the foyer. He went straight to the nursery, planting a kiss on the boy’s cheeks, then laid him carefully in his crib. Cleo fussed a bit, but with Tommy’s gentle pats on his lap, the boy stopped moving and relaxed.
Distinct footsteps approached, the thumps ascertaining her arrival. His hands closed around the crib bars, shut his eyes, and took a deep breath.
“Tommy,” Reena’s somber voice sent shivers down his spine. “Can we talk?”
“What do you wanna talk about?” he asked.
“I know you’re mad at me,” she started, her voice breaking, “and I understand why–”
“You understand?” he asked, cutting her off. He turned around, but he couldn’t bear to look at her, so he avoided her gaze. “You put your life on the line, your and our child’s, even Leigh’s, and now you’re telling me you understand?”
As she walked closer to him, Tommy felt himself steeling. She reached out to touch his cheek, attempting to make him face her, but he turned away. Slowly, her arms lowered to her side and her head bowed down.
“8-Ball said you were supposed to be there,” she mumbled. “You’re not calling me so much, you’re always unavailable.” She lifted her head, pain streaking her face. “What’s happening to you?”
Tommy swept a hand over his face, pursing his lips. Mercedes’s kiss still lingered.
“You didn’t even hug me or kiss me–”
“So, I’m the one at fault now,” he muttered under his breath, meeting her shocked gaze. “Let’s see,” he said, placing a hand on his waist. “While you were there trying to enjoy your life, I was here, taking care of my business problems.”
Her face churned. “I-I asked you if I could go, and you allowed me–”
“Because I don’t want you to feel bad,” he interrupted. “You said I wasn’t calling you or messaging you? While you were waiting, I am here, dealing with the thieves in my factory and confronting men who hurt my cab drivers…”
In a swift motion, he unbuttoned his shirt and took it off, showing her the wounds and scars he obtained. Her eyes welled with tears as they scanned his body, terror and worry growing at every spot she looked at.
“And the other night? Maude died,” he growled, seeing her eyes gawk and mouth part. “I’ve been in her wake since yesterday, only to fucking receive a call telling me you almost got taken by the Leones just because you can’t fucking follow Asuka’s order to stay in her condominium!”
He said most of it, the words flowing like unquenchable streams of fury that he couldn’t control. His heart hammered in his chest as he watched the tears roll down his wife’s cheeks. She clutched her hands into her chest, her shoulders heaving up and down in shallow, labored breaths. But Tommy knew to his heart that there was something else he couldn’t tell. He swallowed down the words he didn’t have the guts to say to her, afraid to even admit what he’d done.
Reena wiped the tears from her face and bit her lip, accepting everything he said without protest, even though it was evident that his words hurt her deeply. She reached out for his hands, tightly clasping them in her grasp, her fingers cold and frail, tugging at the strings of his heart.
“I’m sorry Tommy, I didn’t know,” she said, pressing her lips on his knuckles. “I was selfish, I’m sorry…”
But he was the one who should be. Despite seeing how distraught his wife was, Tommy yanked his hands until they slipped from her fingers. He was livid, but as he recalled his own wrongdoing, he realized that it wasn’t Reena’s actions that made him feel this way, but it was his own guilt for letting a fleeting moment of desire get the best of him.
His wife didn’t do anything wrong, and he didn’t have the guts to admit his mistake.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice barely audible. “I just can’t…”
She attempted to reach for his hands once more, but Tommy simply walked past her. Though he yearned to embrace her, to have her nestled against his chest, to cup her chin and raise her gaze, to kiss her... to tenderly glide his hand over her belly and feel their child within, but he found himself unable to muster the courage to make contact. He lacked the strength to draw near, to place his mouth on hers, aware that another’s essence remained on his lips, stirring a desire within him that he grappled to suppress.
Her soft whimper caused him to halt, his foot suspended just outside the doorway. She was making it unbearably hard for him.
“I love you,” Reena murmured, her soft voice crippling his heart. “Forgive me…”
Taking a hesitant step forward, Tommy finally moved away from the nursery. As he walked down the hallway, increasing the distance between them, an even sharper pang of heartache gripped him, punishing himself for succumbing to his own weakness.
Notes:
Thank you so much for reading <3
Chapter 68: Makeup
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
WHEN REENA OPENED her eyes, Tommy was no longer beside her. His absence left an empty, chilled space on his side of the bed, opposite to the warmth they shared before. Despite the delicate morning light filtering through the curtains and painting their bedroom with a soft, golden glow, Reena felt a pang of guilt surge through her chest. She took the air in deeply, and the smell of his cologne, lingering on his side of the bed, enveloped her senses.
A bittersweet comfort, a torment in its familiarity. It felt as though Tommy were always within her reach, yet just beyond her grasp. Even when he still slept beside her every night, she felt the absence of his touch on her waist and his comforting frame against her body. He no longer embraced her nor shared a kiss before saying good night. Instead, Tommy consistently turned away from her, facing the other side, and Reena knew it very well that it was all because of her.
Despite the hurt that lingered within her, Reena couldn’t deny that her husband had every valid reason to be disappointed. In his eyes, she’d made a grave mistake, putting both herself and their unborn child at risk just because of her pride and guilt. Her reckless decisions had paved the way for threats to encroach upon her, putting a threat in her life and causing pain to Leigh as well.
There was no sense of fretting about it. Reena rose from the bed, her mind and heart set on doing her best to mend the rift that had grown between her and her husband.
After a brisk splash of water on her face and a brush to her teeth, Reena strode out of their bedroom. On her way, she took a quick peek into the nursery. Mrs. Hubbard slept peacefully beside Cleo, a sight that momentarily eased the nagging pain in her chest.
She continued her stroll through the hallway until she eventually arrived at the office. Tommy’s voice, low and lacking enthusiasm, reached her ears as if he were engaged in a conversation he had no desire to be a part of. After a few moments, he bid his farewell, and Reena was startled a little as his phone met the desk with a forceful thud.
Summoning every ounce of her courage, Reena rapped her knuckles lightly against the door and pushed it open. Tommy’s gaze immediately met hers, but before she could speak, he lowered his head and picked up a pen, his attention at work, as though it seemed. To his side, a half-filled snifter and an opened bottle of rum stood, something Reena had often cautioned him against.
“Have you had your coffee?” she asked, her gaze flickering between him and the liquor, unable to hide her concern.
Tommy didn’t answer her. He’d grown increasingly voiceless in their interactions, his caginess a difficult barrier to overcome regardless of her efforts to engage. With a heavy, resigned sigh, Reena left his office.
Instead, she went to the kitchen, undeterred from her resolve to prepare something for him. Once done, she asked one of Tommy’s men to bring him the food. She knew that if she presented it herself, he’d likely refuse and push the plates aside. Hoping that he’d accept what she’d made, Reena continued with her day, immersing herself in things that kept her busy and distracted.
Mrs. Hubbard hesitated initially to accept her help, but Reena was persistent. She cleaned, tidied, and looked after Cleo, tackling each task with devotion and perseverance. Her son had proven to be quite the handful today, adamantly rejecting the food she prepared, flinging his toys, tearing pages from the books she tried to read to him, and, worst of all, wailing when she attempted to give him a shower. Reena found herself resorting to bribery, offering him sweets and other enticing gifts just to coax him to cooperate, but Cleo remained stubborn, his hard-headedness making her day all the more challenging.
“I’ll take care of him, dear,” Mrs. Hubbard reassured her. “Go on, take a rest. You’ve done a lot today already.”
But the thought of relaxing eluded her. Reena felt an insatiable need to keep herself occupied, her mind restless and troubled, leaving her with a bitter taste in her mouth. With a heavy heart, she retraced her steps back to their bedroom, racking her brain for something else to do, a distraction to fill the void within her.
In front of the bedroom mirror, Tommy stood with a furrowed brow, his face etched with frustration as he grappled with tying his necktie. Each failed attempt seemed to twist his expression into deeper irritation. The fabric resisted his efforts, and his fingers fumbled over the loop that kept on getting tangled.
Observing his struggle, Reena approached him. As she drew near, she sensed a subtle tension in him, but it was too late for him to evade her touch. Gently, she reached out and took the silk tie from his grasp. Her fingers worked on the knot, and Tommy dipped his chin, his gaze fixed on her hands. When she finished, she gave the necktie a gentle tug, then let it fall neatly against his chest.
Reena patted her hand on his bosom, an attempt to feel his heartbeat. She lifted her gaze to meet his, but Tommy remained with his head bowed down, eyes averted from her. Slowly, Reena lowered her hands, understanding and accepting that he had no intention to return the affection she was showing.
“Where are you going today?” she asked, trying to initiate a conversation.
Tommy seemed hesitant to answer, though his mouth parted, making Reena’s heart skip a beat. “I’m meeting with Shrub. I’m finalizing the sale.”
To hear him answer her brought her profound happiness.
“What time will you be home?” she inquired once more, hoping that he’d give her a definite answer.
“I don’t know. I’m not sure,” he responded, and though uncertain, his response still gave her delight. “I have to go now.”
Reena thought he’d kiss her, but Tommy just walked past her. She pursed her lips in quiet disappointment, casting a glance over her shoulder, her head turning toward the direction he was heading.
“Don’t forget to eat,” Reena gently reminded him, her voice tinged with concern. “I love you...”
For a moment, he paused, but without throwing a look in her direction, Tommy swiftly exited the room, leaving her with a less-heavy feeling in his wake.
Tommy had always been diligent about showing his affection to her, but recently, he’d been leaving the estate without a word. All Reena could do was stand at the top of the concrete stairs and watch him drive away, his car gradually vanishing down the winding road ahead.
But, in a strange way, this was an improvement. Since her return, he hadn’t engaged in much conversation, not even bothering to answer her questions. But now he did, and she was ecstatic.
An hour passed like a hazy blur. Reena devoted her time in the kitchen. She was set to prepare a meal, one she hoped could sate hunger, especially for Tommy. Carefully, she sliced the chunks of meat on the chopping board, the rhythmic thud of the knife against the surface creating a steady cadence in the otherwise tranquil noon. While she deftly diced vegetables, the aromatic blend of herbs and spices in the pan permeated the air.
Mrs. Hubbard told her that the food was the way to the heart. Maybe, she should try taking that path.
As the ingredients sizzled and simmered in the pan, Reena stirred the contents of the pan. The rich fragrance of the dish enveloped her, a comforting embrace that contrasted the trouble inside of her. She’d hoped that it would soften Tommy, that the sight of her efforts would somehow melt his heart.
Reena carefully plated the meal in a small lunchbox. The vibrant colors of the vegetables contrasted with the brownish, golden hues of the cooked meat. She placed the lunchbox inside a bag, her heart fluttering with a mixture of hope and trepidation.
“That smells fantastic!”
Her heart leaped at the sound of a familiar, thunderous voice. She pivoted swiftly, and tears welled up in her eyes as she saw Leigh, standing at the kitchen door. Like a lightning bolt, she rushed toward him and hugged him eagerly, her grip inadvertently eliciting a wince and a grunt from him.
“Oh, I’m sorry!” Reena apologized, though she hadn’t let go of Leigh yet. Her hands cupped his face, and with insurmountable delight, she showered him with kisses on the cheeks. “I’m so glad you’re back!”
At first, Leigh made a feeble attempt to push her away, but eventually, he surrendered to her enthusiastic embrace. “Boss will kill me if he sees you kissing me like this,” he chuckled, his tone tinged with playful resignation. “But I’m glad you’re happy to see me, Miss Reena.”
“Does Tommy know you’ll be back home today?!” she asked, letting go of Leigh, her hands patting his shirt and straightening the ruffles she caused. “He… he hasn’t told me anything.”
Confusion laced Leigh’s expression, but he pressed his lips into a tight smile and nodded. “Yeah, we told him we’ll be back today. We even spoke to him this morning.”
Reena found herself lowering her head, realizing that even with such good new, Tommy didn’t intend to share. “He can’t be more disappointed in me than he is now,” she replied somberly, brushing her knuckles beneath her eyes. She took a deep breath, and just as she did, Marcus appeared in the doorway, greeting her with a faint beam. In return, she smiled back at him.
As a brief moment of silence engulfed them, Reena’s eyes fell onto the lunchbox on the island, recalling her plan. With a renewed sense of purpose, he looked up at Leigh and gestured toward the meal she prepared. “I’m actually planning on taking this food to him...”
Leigh squinted at her, his curiosity seemingly piqued. “Where’s he at?”
“In the studio,” she replied, failing to withhold the concern in her tone. She grabbed the bag and quickly secured the utensils inside. “I’m sure he’ll forget to eat.”
“Well, what are you waiting for, Miss” he said, tilting his head in the door’s direction, a glint of thrill dancing in his eyes. “Let’s go–”
“You just got home, and you need to rest,” Marcus said, looking displeased, his expression stern and authoritative.
Reena’s gaze shifted between the twins, a surge of shame washing over her. Despite her initial inclination to accept Leigh’s offer, she acknowledged the validity of Marcus’s point. Just as she was about to decline, Leigh casually slung an arm around her shoulders and steered her toward the door, leaving Marcus momentarily stunned and speechless.
“There ain’t Leones here, it’s Vice City!” Leigh exclaimed with a grin, and quickly, he yanked Reena toward the car outside.
He was really hard-headed, and that was why she liked him a lot.
In no time, Reena was on her way out of the estate, with Leigh at the wheel, cheerfully whistling along to the music on the radio. She couldn’t help but shake her head in amazement. Leigh’s support to her seemed to know no bounds, just like he did when she asked him to accompany her to 8-Ball’s auto yard in spite of the possible dangers he might face. Yet, his enthusiasm aside, a nagging fear gnawed at her, concerned that he might be recklessly taking on tasks that could potentially worsen his situation.
“Are you sure about this?” Reena probed, her brow arching with uncertainty as she gently placed her hand on Leigh’s forearm. “You really don’t have to do this for me. I could’ve asked Mike to drive me to the studio...”
“You said Boss was disappointed with you,” he pointed out, his eyes briefly leaving the road to meet hers. “Is that because of what happened to me?”
Leigh’s words caught her off guard. Reena felt her stomach churn, unable to conceal her reaction. Even she blamed herself for what happened, and she couldn’t fault Tommy for thinking the same way. Leigh, seemingly attuned to her thoughts, offered a cheering smile and refocused on the road ahead.
“If he’s mad at you, he should be mad at me too,” Leigh asserted, his tone resolute, his shoulders shrugging in the process. “I didn’t stop you from leaving. That was my primary job.”
“But it’s not your fault that I–”
Leigh shushed her, pressing a finger to her lips, and Reena responded with a hearty laugh and a gentle slap to his hand.
“Trust me, Miss,” Leigh chimed in, capturing her attention once more. “Boss is just like that. He loves you, that’s why he’s scared of what happened to you.”
Reena could feel her cheeks blush. “I know... It’s just... I’ve been so selfish that I didn’t fully realize what he’s going through...”
The car accelerated, darting with a sense of urgency. Leigh shook his head and clicked his tongue. “You ain’t selfish, Miss Reena,” he declared. “You’re just stubborn.”
“Really?!” Reena retorted, rolling her eyes mischievously. “As if you’re not! Look at you, driving around town with a gunshot wound on your side!”
Leigh burst into laughter, his infectious mirth soothing her troubled mind. “Guess that’s why Boss asked me to be your chaperone...” he admitted with a cackle.
As the car sped on the roads, Reena shook her head, her heart brimming with gratitude for Leigh. His arrival had lifted her spirits, and she looked forward to seeing her husband at the studio. Anticipation danced in her chest, imagining the moment when she’d see Tommy with a genuine smile on his face, the two of them reconnecting after a period of distance and strife, taking away all the worries and fears that had been troubling her ever since…
Notes:
Thank you so much for reading <3
Chapter 69: Playing with Fire
Chapter Text
AS TOMMY ARRIVED at InterGlobal Films, the once bright sunlight had given way to thicker clouds that veiled the sun’s rays. Taking shelter under a shade, he noticed a sedan parked at the far end instead of the Stretch, leading him to wonder if Alex Shrub had sent someone else for the meeting.
Today was the day he was sealing the deal. He’d been working on the papers with Shrub for several days, and he was itching to finally get through this so he could focus on the things he deemed more important than his businesses.
Tommy walked briskly toward the office. As he stepped down the hall, he caught the sound of Steve Scott’s voice coming from the other end. Curiosity tugged at him, wondering if the director was in conversation with Shrub or his associates. However, as he reached his destination, a sudden wave of tension swept over him.
Mercedes was standing next to Steve, holding a stack of files in her hands. It was evident that the director was explaining something to her, but his focus quickly shifted to Tommy as soon as he noticed him. Steve greeted him with great enthusiasm, his charismatic smile lighting up his face.
“Oh, Mr. Vercetti, it’s good that you’re here!” Steve Scott exclaimed, touching his forearm. “Congressman Shrub sent Mercedes to finalize the deal with us. He said he wasn’t available.”
Despite the situation, Tommy put on a polite front, exchanging pleasantries with the director while trying his best to ignore the uncomfortable presence of the woman beside him. “You should’ve told me Shrub wasn’t around,” he said in a soft tone, trying to dampen his annoyance. “We could’ve rescheduled this.”
Mercedes seemed to sense that she was the source of his discomfort, a snicker lacing her lips. She walked closer toward him and Steve, standing too near that he could smell her perfume.
“Come on Tommy, we got a lot of things to do,” she said, her voice sounding sensual. “I already got the files we needed to work with.” She stuck out her arms that held the documents, showing him the thick files of ledgers, contracts, and other papers that needed Tommy’s signature.
In a swift motion, Tommy took them from her hands. “I can do this myself.”
Mercedes lifted an eyebrow, placing a hand on her waist. “It’d be faster if we work together…”
“Yeah, Tommy, you sure you don’t wanna Mercedes’s help?” the director asked, his face remarking with confusion.
Tommy turned around, showing his unwillingness to listen to whatever Mercedes or Steve Scott had to say.
“Make sure nobody comes to the office and disturbs me,” he ordered, then he stormed inside the room and slammed the door shut.
He tossed the documents on the desk, adding to the clatter that the director wasn’t able to clean up. Piles of scripts, storyboards, and production notes were scattered haphazardly, teetering precariously at the edges of the cluttered workspace. Coffee-stained mugs, half-empty popcorn bags, and crumpled paper napkins were strewn about, evidence of the long hours spent brainstorming and plotting. Amid the mess, a tangle of cables snaked its way across the desk, connecting various devices, while post-it notes adorned every available surface, filled with hastily scribbled reminders and ideas.
Tommy shook his head and chalked it up, resolute to finish the damn fucking papers.
The sun’s fading rays seeped through the blinds of Steve Scott’s office, which were the only glow that Tommy had while he worked. For hours on end, he hadn’t stood up to do anything, keeping his focus on reviewing the last pieces of papers he needed to get on with. Half of them had already been checked and signed, but a lot more piles stood at the corner, waiting to be accomplished. He’d been oblivious to the time until his stomach growled, and that was when he realized that it was already past lunchtime.
Drawing his phone from his pocket, he sent a message to Steve Scott, asking him to bring some food. After pressing send, he saw that Reena had a missed call. His brows knitted toward the center, wondering what she had to say. Tommy scrolled through his inbox and opened her most recent message.
“I know you’re still mad at me, but I want to let you know that I love you.”
Tommy let out an exasperated sigh, quickly tossing his phone onto the desk. Just then, a faint creaking sound reached his ears, and he turned his attention to the office door, which was slowly swinging open.
“I told you! No one’s disturbing me–”
“Relax, Tommy. I brought you some food…”
Mercedes was standing at the doorway. Carrying a cup of coffee in one hand and a sandwich in the other, she grinned at him despite his unfriendly disposition.
“You must be hungry, or thirsty, or both. I brought you something.”
“For God’s sake, Mercedes, how many times do I–”
“Tommy,” she interrupted, her voice soft and sweet as she approached the desk. “I know how exhausting all these are. You’re not even sure if you can finish all that within the day!” She pushed some of the clatter on the desk to the side, giving space for her to put the coffee and sandwich on. “That’s the very reason why Shrub sent me to help you, but you won’t let me–”
“Please,” he implored, leaning his back against the seat and pinching the skin at the top of his nose. “I don’t want to get disturbed, okay? So take that food and go.”
He pulled a stack of paper near the drink, accidentally knocking it down. The steaming cup of coffee toppled over, and its contents cascaded onto the desk like a dark, liquid avalanche.
“Shit!” Tommy cried out as he tried to salvage the papers, ignoring the liquid that spilled onto his pants. The chaotic disorder of papers now succumbed to the hot deluge, their ink smudging and bleeding into a mess. The coffee crept its way through the crevices of scripts and production notes, leaving behind soggy, discolored patches and a faint aroma of roasted beans. As the liquid seeped further, the paper fibers absorbed the moisture, causing the once crisp documents to curl and warp.
Even Mercedes made frantic attempts to save the files, or whatever she could grab, but the damage was done, leaving behind a collage of ruined pages.
“I’m sorry, Tommy, I didn’t mean to!” she apologized, her eyes fixing on his sullied pants. “Let me wipe it for you–”
“No, stop!” he cried, slapping her hand away with force.
Mercedes stood up, and as her eyes began to well with tears, she took a step back.
Tommy couldn’t remember a time when he’d seen Mercedes shed a tear. She was always strong, cunning, and self-directed, and she never cried for as long as he’d known her. But now, she stood there, trembling on her spot, tears threatening to fall from her eyes as she stared at him with palpable frustration over his rejection.
“I just wanted to help you,” she claimed, her voice breaking with every word she uttered. “You don’t have to be this cruel to me.”
Tommy put his hands on his waist, tightening his lips. “You wanna help me?” he asked, then he pointed at the door. “Then leave.”
Mercedes scoffed as she ran her fingers through her hair. “For years, Tommy, I’ve known you. Whatever you had with my father, I’m out of that. I was hurt when you pushed me away, but I swallowed my pride and accepted the reality. Haven’t you done enough to me?” she rebuked, moving a couple of steps closer. “And now, you want me to leave?!”
He slammed his fist on the table. “You tried to kiss me, Mercedes!” he harangued, his voice reaching the peak of his anger. “Why the fuck would you do that?!”
The pride she once wore in her eyes seemed to diminish. Her eyes lowered to the floor, her head shaking in palpable shame. “I still like you…” she admitted, her voice soft yet certain. “I don’t know what I’ve done wrong, but if you’d give me a chance, I’d make it right so that you’d choose me instead.”
For a moment, both of them stood in silence, and the stiff air in the office strangled Tommy’s throat. He wanted to get out, now, but he couldn’t move past her, not when she was standing by the door with tears rolling down her cheeks after admitting her feelings for him.
“I’m sorry,” she said, a whimper escaping her lips.
Tommy exhaled a heavy sigh. Juan Cortez did him a lot of wrong things, but he realized Mercedes was right – she was out of it. She’d become his friend and companion for years, one of the few women he’d spent intimate moments with until Reena came into his life and turned his world around. Yet, it didn’t mean Mercedes didn’t matter to him at all, even though their relationship had been strained by conflicts they couldn’t settle anymore.
He cleared his throat and looked at her with a softened gaze. “I’m sorry if I’ve been too harsh.”
His words seemed to comfort her a bit. Brushing her knuckles over her cheeks, Mercedes sniffed and nodded, forcing a smile on her lips. Tommy felt lighter after seeing her beam, and though he hated that she was in the same room as him, he had no plans of pushing her away for now.
“I hope that even after all that, you haven’t forgotten about me…” she muttered under her breath, her once solemn eyes now tinged with ferocity.
In a swift motion, Mercedes lunged toward him and wrapped her arms around his body. Tommy stiffened on his spot, unsure of what to do that he was locked in Mercedes’s embrace. He held her arms and tried to push her as gently as he could but her clasp just got tighter. She was still sobbing, her tears streaming down his chest as she buried her face into his bosom.
“I missed you…” she mumbled, then planted a kiss on his chest.
Tommy’s mind raged to retort, but he couldn’t understand why he wasn’t protesting or reacting the way he should. He wasn’t supposed to be allowing this after what happened last time in the car, especially in a dark office all alone, their bodies pressing against each other.
He was lost in the moment, and his disorientation was amplified by the drumming of his nerves, his heart getting into his throat. Why, for Christ’s sake, was he enjoying her embrace, the softness and warmth of her skin so drawing that he couldn’t let her go? And she smelled like honeydew, her hair… her sweat… her breath…
Fuck.
Memories of them came crashing back at once. No matter where they went or who they met, they’d always find their way back into each other’s arms and in each other’s beds. And they’d keep on doing so every time they got the chance, only for them to go on separate ways and repeat the cycle.
Something was wrong. Tommy could feel the heat growing in his chest and stomach cascading, his mind getting dazed in the hazy light that leaked through the windows. It was quiet, so quiet. Just the two of them. It was so amiss that it felt defiantly thrilling… something Tommy hadn’t felt for a long time.
He heard Mercedes gasp, followed by a soft giggle. She looked up at him and bit her lip, her eyes falling to his mouth.
“You’re getting hard, Tommy,” she said, then her hand grabbed his crotch.
Everything happened so fast. The taste of her lips sent a thrilling sensation all over his body, even more so when her tongue began to part his mouth. Tommy closed his eyes, and he found himself returning the same vigor. His hands dragged down to her waists, feeling the curves of her voluptuous body. His fingers trembled as they dug into her skin, the soft, sultry hips he hadn’t touched for a long time awakening every sense inside him.
She pushed him to the desk, her body leaning against him. Tommy felt the drenched papers and other things on the surface against his back, hearing some of them falling, but he couldn’t care less. His chest was bursting with excitement as her hand traced his cock beneath his pants.
“Did you miss me?” she asked, her kiss becoming hungrier. She licked his lips toward his neck, her mouth tracing down to his chest.
His breath flared as if the air inside his lungs was burning. She tasted so sweet that he wanted more, more of what they were doing. His flesh had been craving this so, so badly that he was willingly giving in to the sweeping pleasure.
Mercedes tugged his necktie, untying the knot that held it in place. She quickly unbuttoned his shirt, pulled the hem out of his waistband, and dropped to her knees, her hands fumbling for the button and zipper of his trousers.
“Did you miss your cock in my mouth?” she asked, staring up at him with a desire so burning that he couldn’t stop from swallowing him whole. “Did you miss coming in my face?”
Nothing else was on his mind but the vision of what they could be doing in a few seconds. As Tommy gulped for breath, his hands clenched into a fist, when, out of the blue, he felt it.
His wedding ring hurt, its solid band pressing against his curled palm.
Reena’s smile flashed in his mind as her hazel eyes sparkled like the brightest star in the sky.
There, at the beach on the edge of Vice City, he celebrated another year of his life, only that he wasn’t feeling alone. The tenderness of her candle-like fingers on his hand, as he put the ring on it, comforted his heart. When he lifted his eyes, all he saw was her dazzling beam that shone more gloriously than the setting sun on the horizon.
His wife. It was she that he loved ever since. Her touch… her kiss… her embrace. He wanted to press his face on her belly, his heart aching to feel their baby kick as he refused to stop kissing–
His cock sprang out, hard and throbbing, and Mercedes’s face glowed in excitement as she leaned forward to claim him.
Yet, with all his might, Tommy pushed her, preventing her mouth from touching his erection. He hurried to get his pants back on, and the titillating feeling that overwhelmed him was suddenly replaced by utter guilt and frustration.
Catching his breath, he looked at Mercedes, whose arms were propped on her back on the floor. He shook his head, pleading with her.
“I can’t, Mercedes,” he said. “I love my wife.”
He couldn’t imagine himself going home after this only to find Reena waiting for him in the estate. How could he touch her knowing that he’d stroked and kissed and almost fucked someone else while she was clueless as shit, trusting him fully? How could he hurt her even more after all the words he said and the actions he did?
Mercedes rose. Her eyes were fixed on him, and slowly, she removed the straps of her dress and let them slide down her arms. Her full breasts glared at him, her nipples perky and hard, and sweat drenched her luscious bosom.
“Your wife doesn’t have to know…”
She yanked him again with a force stronger than before. Her lips crashed into his mouth, lapping the seams of his cusps, forcing her tongue inside. She grabbed his hand and compelled it to touch her breast, but Tommy tried to resist, drawing back his arms.
“I said stop!”
But she didn’t. She pushed him into the office chair, his back bouncing against the leather cushion. She straddled her legs on his lap and closed her hand around his neck.
“I know you liked being rough,” she puffed, letting her breasts bounce on his face. “I can give you what you want…”
Mercedes began grinding her hips and bouncing on his hard-on, moaning like she was near the edge. Tommy held on to the armrest, his mind racing to find a way to get her off him.
“Fuck me, Tommy…” she said. “Fuck me hard like you used to…”
The creaking of the door ensued, followed by a familiar voice howling a curse and things dropping to the floor.
“Oh, shit!”
Tommy didn’t know how, but he managed to push Mercedes away. His lungs constricted painfully as if he’d been denied air. While he tried to regain his composure, he glanced at the doorway. Steve Scott was there with his hands covering his face, and his wife was staring at him with a slightly parted mouth.
His breath hitched. His heart stopped. His mind ceased.
All Tommy could see was the face of his beautiful wife, her hand lowering toward her baby bump.
“Reena?!” he asked, unable to say anything else.
Mercedes stood beside him, naked, her arm covering her bare breast. Her look at Reena was intense – it was as if she didn’t expect to see her that way.
“Baby,” Tommy said, struggling to find the strength in his voice. At her feet were spilled food and drinks in a bag that barely held them. “Baby, please listen to me–”
As her face turned pale and her eyes became red with tears, Reena stepped back, her frail legs trembling as if she might falter any moment. Without a word, she spun on her heels and swiftly ran away down the hallway. Tommy hastily rose from his seat, buttoning his shirt back on and trying to cover his bareness, but his efforts felt futile.
He followed her, desperately trying to catch up, realizing she was almost at the exit.
“Reena!” he screamed, but she didn’t stop, not even a second.
Blinded by the blazing sun’s rays, Tommy stepped out of the building, squinting as he saw Leigh standing by the car, knocking on the driver’s seat door. The engine struggled to start, sputtering and dying repeatedly as if it were broken. Inside the car, his wife looked frantic, twisting the keys repeatedly in an attempt to get it running.
In desperation, Tommy pushed Leigh aside and clasped the car door handle, pulling it while slamming his hand on the window. “Reena! Please, open the door!” His voice trembled with urgency. “Baby, open the fucking door!”
But his poor wife wouldn’t.
He kept on begging, but his cries seemed to fall on deaf ears.
Tears streamed down her face, but Tommy heard no sobs. Her hands were tightly clutched on the steering wheel as she stared into the distance, seemingly lost in her thoughts. Suddenly, he noticed her hands lower, her eyes drop, and her body sway, and his heart raced with concern.
He’d seen her this way before, back when he came home after the night in Sunshine Autos, that day when she just swooned in his arms.
“Baby, what’s happening?!”
Her head hung to the side as she lost consciousness. In terror, Tommy began to forcefully pull the door handle until it snapped. Screaming all the curses he knew, he watched his wife helplessly faint, and in a fit of desperation, Tommy threw his fist into the window, cracking it.
People surrounded them, staff and actors watching with curiosity, but he didn’t care. Leigh tried to stop him, but Tommy shoved him again and resumed hitting his bleeding knuckles into the cracking window. With every blow, finer streaks appeared on the surface, turning his fist numb. He punched harder as small shards started to break, piercing through his skin. Blood smeared and spattered on the glass with every beat until the window shattered, leaving his hand covered in crimson and the car door accessible.
All Tommy felt was lief the moment his fist went through, feeling the warm air inside. He felt for the lock and opened the door, then drew his arm from the sharp hole of shards he created. It bled harshly from the cuts he sustained, but whatever pain he might feel was nothing compared to the agony he inflicted on his wife.
“Baby, wake up, please…” he begged as he touched Reena’s face.
She didn’t respond. With trembling hands, he gently lifted her from the driver’s seat, cradling her against his chest as he carried her away from the car and the prying eyes of the onlookers.
Tommy was uncertain if this would be the last time he’d be able to hold her, but now, all that mattered was getting her the help she needed…
Notes:
Thank you so much for reading <3
Chapter 70: Shattered
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
BRIGHT HOSPITAL LIGHTS blinded Reena as she opened her eyes, blinking roughly against the harsh glare that fell upon her face. All of a sudden, a wave of excruciating pain rippled from her temples down her neck and shoulders, causing her to groan as she attempted to make a move. Every inch of her body felt heavy, her limbs weak as if they were made of lead.
“Baby…”
A voice, soft yet familiar, pierced through the fog in her mind, and a warm touch grazed her arm.
But the haze that had clouded her head dissipated abruptly as she recognized Tommy. Agitated, she recoiled, dragging herself to the far side of the bed to stay out of his reach. He sat nearby, his eyes red and swollen. Had he been waiting there the whole time? The refuge his presence once offered was replaced by a churn of nausea in her stomach, images of him and Mercedes in Steve Scott’s office flooding her thoughts.
An urge to retch rushed within her, yet she resisted, unwilling to mar the sheets or her clothes, giving him no more reasons to draw near.
She just wanted to prove to him how sorry she was, to show him the extent of what she’d do just so he could forgive her for what she did. Reena recalled herself walking slowly on the corridor, clinging to Steve Scott’s arm that he so generously offered for her to hold. Her mind raced in both excitement and nervousness as she imagined how Tommy would react if he saw her, painting a rather faint smile on her face. But somehow, as they got nearer, Reena heard a pale, creaking noise along with what sounded like groans of pleasure, a high-pitched moan that tugged along her nerves.
And when they opened the door, she felt her world fall apart.
It seemed like her tears had always been there, just needing a trigger to commence the flow, and at once, her eyes swelled and her pain streamed down her cheeks. Though her fingers felt weak, she clutched the blanket swathing her legs. She bit down her lip, trying to muffle the sobs that wanted to escape.
“Please, calm down,” Tommy implored, his voice heavy with exhaustion. He reached out to her, but she flinched, recoiling from even the slightest brush of his fingers. As she did, her vision swirled rapidly and violently, urging her to touch her head, straining the IV attached to her wrist.
Then, she recalled feeling giddy. She was in the car, trying to start the damn engine, and Tommy was banging the door and the window. It all happened so fast – her belly began to hurt, but she wasn’t able to react as she, little by little, lost sight of the things before her.
“My baby,” she huffed in panic, unable to make sense of what was going on. “What happened to my baby?”
Panic consumed her until Tommy’s hands gently enveloped hers, guiding them to rest on the center of her abdomen. The tightness in her chest eased as the sensation of her baby’s presence reassured her. A sob of relief broke free as she struggled to contain her overwhelming emotions. Despite the pulsating pain in her head, the despair she felt, and the seething distrust, she found solace in knowing her Tamia remained unharmed.
As Tommy withdrew his hands, she noticed his gauze-wrapped wounds, and smears of blood marking the cloth’s surface.
“You passed out,” he spoke in a gruff voice, tender yet regretful. “I had to break the window to get you out.”
Reena pressed her hands over her belly once more, feeling the gentle movement within. Her tears continued relentlessly, causing her to whimper, and even her teeth that sank into her cusps were not able to suppress the cascade of her cries.
The pain in her head and the scramble of emotions were overwhelming, but a vivid, distinct image invaded her mind, an image she wished to banish. Reena shut her eyes tightly, struggling to shun them away, but every attempt just made the disgust she felt more profound and raw.
Tommy was reclined on the seat. His necktie was unknotted, his buttons were undone, and his hands were clutching the armrest as his eyes were fixed with ferocity upon Mercedes. On the floor was a laced purple dress that she should’ve been wearing. She was naked, her skin drenched with glistening sweat, and with intensity, she was grinding and bouncing on his lap, a sharp, torturous sound of pleasure emanating from her mouth.
Reena lost hold of the bag, and she recalled Steve Scott cursing beside her. They seemed to snap back into reality as Mercedes hurried off Tommy's lap, her breath ragged, and Tommy? The color drained his face as if he’d seen a ghost.
At that moment, Reena’s mind raced, making her question herself. How long had they been entwined like that? How long had they been lost in each other’s touch, in each other’s passion?
Only the heavens knew how long they’d been fucking behind her back.
“Get out…” she said. Her voice was hoarse, but her words were firm.
His shocked expression was fresh in her mind, similar to the look he wore right now. But Tommy didn’t move. He sat there frozen, making her blood boil. Why was it so hard for him to understand that she didn’t want him around her? That she couldn’t stomach his face? That looking at him and hearing his voice made her remember them fucking in that goddamn place?!
Every glance at him brought back the memory of their passionate moment, of their bodies entangled in illicit desire.
As Mercedes’s eyes locked with hers, she recoiled, hastily covering her bare breasts with her forearm. The ever-beautiful and alluring Mercedes Cortez. Her body was a masterpiece, an epitome of sensuality, a stark contrast to Reena’s own insecurities. Her inadequacy gnawed at her, mingling with her desire to flee, to escape from the agony that threatened to consume her.
A dull ache settled in her chest as her thoughts revolted. The life she’d believed to be complete was unraveling, shredding her newfound happiness beyond recognition.
Reena could’ve died in pain, but her children needed her breathing.
“I said,” her voice trembled, her glare fixed on Tommy, “get out.”
His coldness while she was away. His non-response to her calls. His hidden phone in the drawer. Was this all because she couldn’t give what he needed? Was Mercedes able to satisfy his urges? Did she whisper sweet nothings into his ear while indulging his desires? Did her voice mingle with his groans of pleasure?
“You know that I can’t do that, please…”
The foundation of the life she’d painstakingly built lay in ruins. The promise of healing after losing Claude and the warmth and tenderness she’d found in Tommy were tainted by the deceit that now stared her in the face.
Her heart was broken, a reality she struggled to accept. The light she had glimpsed at the end of her arduous journey had dimmed, replaced by a void of uncertainty. The man who had mended her broken heart had shattered it anew.
Barely gathering strength, she raised her shuddering arm and pointed at the door.
“Get. The fuck. Out.”
Tommy looked at her with a beseeching gaze, but he lowered his eyes and stood from his seat, waning as he did. Slowly, he walked away from the bed, and her eyes followed him. It looked like he hesitated to turn the knob, but soon, he yielded, and he pulled the door open and led himself out, shutting it behind him until he disappeared from her sight.
How many times while I was away? How many fucking times?
Reena closed her eyes, an attempt to shut out the image of Tommy’s betrayal, to erase the sight of her husband’s body entwined with another woman’s. Yet the torment remained, relentless in its grip. What other betrayals had she missed? What other moments had she unknowingly shared with Mercedes?
There was no solace to be found. The friends who might have provided comfort – 8-Ball, Asuka, Maria, Mrs. Hubbard – all seemed distant, beyond reach. Agony and guilt surged within her, dragging her back to the moment she’d allowed Tommy to kiss her at the Waterview.
Perhaps, she was reaping what she’d sowed.
How can you do this to me, Tommy?
Reena knew that no matter what explaining he did, she didn’t have the sound mind to believe him. Everything overwhelmed her, and she released a strangled cry, her fingers gripping her hair as she pounded her palms against her head. Time blurred, her cries merging with the swirling darkness around her. She wept, gasped for air, and whimpered, her arms encircling her, a futile attempt to comfort herself when the embrace she truly longed for was now forever out of reach.
Minutes stretched into eternity as her sobs subsided, drained by her ceaseless cries. All she did was lay on her side, feeling the damp pillow beneath her face as she succumbed to her desperation, unsure of what to do next.
When she heard the door open, Reena didn’t make a move. She didn’t care whoever it was that came into her room. As her mind trailed off, a man in a white gown stood before her. He asked her some questions, but his words were garbled in her head, melting along with the soundness she barely clung to.
She knew that outside, Tommy was waiting. The man would look back and forth between her and someone in the doorway, ascertaining that he was there. After a few more words she didn’t recall, the man finally retreated.
The room was saturated with silence, accentuated by the low hum of the air conditioning unit. She fixed her gaze upon the white wall, her cries depleted from the incessant waves of tears. Her misery had reached such a height that even her own imagination seemed drained, the salty trails of her grief unable to muster the energy to cascade down her cheeks.
Amid the hush, a distant growl of thunder rumbled. The pale walls of the room seemed to intensify, radiating an almost blinding light. As if pulled by an unseen force, Reena looked over her shoulder, her eyes drawn to the window where a vivid streak of lightning tore across the dark heavens.
How fitting to her emotions and thoughts right now.
As drizzles sputtered on the windowpanes, Reena felt her belly. Tamia moved, but her actions weren’t jolting her. It was as if her baby girl knew what was happening, careful not to cause her more pain, and though Reena couldn’t say it made her feel any better, she uttered a soft appreciation, kissing the pads of her fingers and pressing them on the spot where she thought Tamia was. She closed her eyes, letting her hand feel her baby’s form.
The door creaked once more. Her eyes fluttered open, and through tear-blurred vision, she saw Tommy standing by the door, holding a stainless meal tray. His eyes were pools of pain, mirroring her agony. She wanted him gone, but somehow, Reena didn’t have the strength to scream.
He sat on the chair again, in the same place where he waited for her to wake up. He placed the tray on the table.
“You have to eat,” he said. “You haven’t taken anything.”
Reena didn’t move. The sputters of rain became bigger and bolder, thudding against the glass window. In her thoughts, she wished she were like the rain, that once her tears were shed, the clouds that shrouded the heaven would clear up, and a colorful rainbow would be painted in her sky.
A faint smile laced her lips as she reminisced. Over a year ago, she made a foolish choice to say her vows to Tommy in front of the altar, and barely a couple of months ago, she did it so foolishly again. Her eyes lowered to her hand, finding her wedding ring around her finger, a circle of gold that now seemed to carry a weight far heavier than its delicate form should allow. A pang of pain shot through her, the very symbol of their union transforming into a tiny, unrelenting source of hurt.
Tommy’s hands enclosed hers, but Reena hardly noticed. She briefly considered pulling away, similar to how he’d reacted when she had held his hand before, but strength seemed beyond her capabilities, leaving her ensnared in his grasp.
Every fiber of her being felt nothing but weariness.
“I’m sorry,” Tommy mumbled, his voice quivering with a desperate plea as if he hoped that by admitting to his guilt, he could mend the irreparable damage he’d caused.
Reena stared right into his eyes. She sensed a slight stiffness in his demeanor as their gazes connected, but his grasp on her hand grew firmer.
“Let me make it up to you,” he murmured, raising her hands to his lips and planting kisses on her knuckles.
She observed him with a detached air, her heart incapable of comprehending his actions. Only a short while ago, she had been the one pleading for his forgiveness and seeking his affirmation, yet now, the tables had turned.
“Tommy,” she whispered, saying his name with a hushed tone. He looked up quickly, alert and eager, ready to hear what she had to say.
“Tell me anything you want–”
“Maybe, this is really meant to happen.”
Confusion flickered across his face, his hands wrapped in gauze trembling slightly. “What do you mean?”
“I wanna go back to Angel Pine,” she blurted out, the words tumbling from her lips. “I wanna start over as if I never agreed to come with you–”
“No… please, don’t,” he stammered, his breath catching as he fought to finish his sentence, his face turning pale. “What do I have to do? Just tell me!” he pleaded as though he was begging for a miracle.
Reena cast him a glance. His deep brown eyes that had once glimmered with love, his nose that had delighted in the fragrance of her hair, his lips that were once solely hers but now marked by another’s kiss... everything about him felt like a distant memory. He seemed like a notion that she’d once believed could stretch across a lifetime.
“It was my fault,” he said, clenching his jaw so hard. “I didn’t know why I gave in, but I was wrong…”
She let her gaze trail from his head down to his chest, then lower still, before lifting it back up again. “Since when?”
Tommy’s eyes hesitated, a flicker of reluctance crossing them, but Reena displayed no intention of backing down. She was determined to uncover everything, from the very beginning up to the moment she had caught them in the act. Amid the chaos of her mind, she sought to leave no room for uncertainty, focusing solely on the truth she hoped to find in his words.
With his lips tightly pressed together, Tommy finally let out a breath, shuddering as he inhaled back air. “She… she was with Shrub in the studio.”
Reena remembered that day, the day she and her friends celebrated, the day he was supposed to get to Liberty City and surprise her with his presence. She lifted her gaze once more, locking it with his. “Tell me more,” she demanded.
Tommy nodded, his head trembling. “She said some things to me and… and I don’t know. She touched me, and I wasn’t able to stop her immediately.” His deft fingers began to knead her palms. “I asked her to leave, and nothing else happened.”
“When did it turn to this?” she asked, her voice calm, her eyes focused.
He dipped his chin, drawing deep breaths before opening his mouth again. “I was… I was so disappointed with what happened to you. I was so down, vulnerable,” he explained, his eyes still fixed on her hands. “When I was about to pick you up at the airport, I came across her. She asked me to take her to her apartment… and I did.”
As Reena put the pieces together, his actions that day now made sense. He didn’t embrace her when they arrived home, refused to touch her and look at her, and said some hurtful things toward her about the repercussions of her recklessness. She remembered feeling so guilty that despite his coldness, she was resolved to make it up to him.
“Did you do it in the car?”
Tommy’s head vigorously shook, his breath becoming ragged. “No, nothing happened to us…” Yet, his face turned gloomy, and shame began to grow in his eyes. “But she kissed me before she got out. I promise you, I left as soon as I could–”
“You liked it?” she said, almost not in question.
“I don’t know…” he replied, his voice weakening in each passing moment. “Please baby, nothing happened to us–”
“If I didn’t come,” Reena began, her eyes training on him, “you would’ve done it, wouldn’t you?”
Tommy rose from his seat and moved to her side. Reena no longer protested as his hands cupped her cheeks, feeling nothing but their callousness.
“Believe me, I stopped before anything else happened–”
“Did you kiss her?”
He nodded.
“Did you touch her?”
“I didn’t mean to–”
“Did you let her give you a head?”
His eyes gaped, but he shook his head. “I stopped her–”
“Did you fuck her?”
“No, believe me…” His voice cracked like a fragile glass.
Reena couldn’t fathom where she drew the strength to ask these piercing questions. Yet they flowed from her lips, a torrent she couldn’t restrain, just like the pouring outside.
“I’m so selfish,” she said, her voice trembling. “I was so mad at you, and so desperate to get away from you that I forgot about my baby…”
“No, sweetie, you’re not,” Tommy said, enfolding his arms around her, wrapping her with warmth she didn’t wish to feel. “It’s me… It’s all on me…”
The truth settled in, and Reena was left drowning in a sea of pain and sadness. It was as if her heart had turned into a heavy stone, dragging her down to rock bottom without any chance of getting back up again.
“I thought I lost her…” she whispered, the tears she thought had already run out starting to stream down again. “My Tamia…”
In Tommy’s arms, Reena felt herself trapped. With her heart heavy and her spirit crushed, she let her tears soak into his shirt. Her body remained limp, too drained to think, too shattered to resist. Like the heavy rain, every trickle of her tears was dense with sorrow. She was drowning in her own misery, the ache consuming every fiber of her being.
“Let me fix this,” Tommy’s voice broke as he planted a desperate kiss on the side of her face. “I’ll fix this for us…” he muttered in her ear, but Reena knew all too well that some things were beyond repair.
Notes:
Well, guess who's gone crazy again?
Life's been challenging lately, but I caught a glimpse of the light at the end of the tunnel.
I might go back to posting one chapter a week. I'm revising too slowly in Part 3 T_T
Thank you so much for reading <3
Chapter 71: Ultimatum
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
THE LOW HUM of talk and the sound of cutlery at Momma’s Restaurante provided an oddly pleasant distraction to the stern atmosphere that overwhelmed Ken as he sat with Joey Leone. He reclined back in the wooden seat, stretching an arm over the backrest. Before him, the Don twirled the wine glass in his hand, his eyes fixed on the liquid at the bottom. The fingers in Joey’s freehand, however, continuously tapped against the table.
“Has Mercedes contacted you?” Joey asked, lifting an eyebrow, though his eyes remained trained on the glass.
“Not yet, but last time, she told me she was sure she got on Tommy’s nerves.”
New customers arrived, and the bells that hung by the doorway chimed, creating a soft, pesky noise. Ken turned his attention back to Joey, and upon seeing that the Don’s expression still lacked interest, he grabbed the fork and began to twirl the red pasta on his plate.
“You said you plan on seeing him,” Joey murmured, his gaze still fixed somewhere. “When do you plan to do so?”
“When I already have the document,” Ken said as he pursed his lips. “I want him to know he’s coming out, give him some sense of hope.”
All of a sudden, Joey’s lips curled into a sly smile, prompting Ken to chuckle at his own words. It did not take long for the Don’s grin to turn into a peal of chortle, further proving the hilariousness of what Ken had just said.
Things were starting to come together, at least for Ken. He was counting down the days until he could return to Vice City without worrying about Tommy. That place was his turf – where he’d built his life from the ground up. He wasn’t about to let anyone, especially not the person he’d helped back when he had nothing, take that away from him.
Almost in tears, Joey Leone brushed a finger under his eye. “Ken… I didn’t know you were a joker–”
The door swung open, causing the bells to create the same annoying sound, only louder. As a reflex, Ken turned his head in the door’s direction, mindlessly checking the customer who came in, when, as his focus fell upon the entrance, he squinted.
Mercedes Cortez was standing there, tugging her gaze around the bistro. When she spotted them, her searching eyes turned into a raging glower that had rather caused Ken to stiffen in his seat. Joey seemed to notice his expression as the Don also looked at Mercedes, his eyes unmistakably growing large.
“What’s she doing here?” he asked.
Her face wore even more of a frown as she came over to their table, her usual cool and confident vibe replaced by something else entirely. It was like she’d turned into a completely different person, nothing like the self-assured and attractive woman Ken knew. She wasn’t wearing any makeup, and her hair was all tousled. Her clothes, much longer than usual, hardly showed any skin.
Ken rose from his seat and offered welcoming arms, while in the back of his mind, he wondered if she really was Mercedes Cortez. “Hey,” he greeted, attempting to sound so enthusiastic. “What are you doing here? We thought you were in Vice City!”
“You didn’t tell me she's pregnant!” Mercedes hollered, her voice filled with utter accusation. The other patrons stared at them, their attentions seemingly caught by her strident arrival and loud voice.
Ken found himself raising both of his hands to calm her down. He reached out to touch her, but Mercedes flinched, drawing her hands back as if being touched by him was a plague to avoid.
“Can we please talk about this in private?” he asked, throwing Joey Leone a glance, wordlessly asking for his help. However, the Don just looked up at them, his lips quirking upward as he shook his head and took a swig from the wine glass he’d been playing with.
“Fuck you, Ken,” Mercedes cursed, her words taking him by surprise. She pressed a trembling hand on her forehead, her eyes turning puffy and red. “We almost did it, and she caught us in the act!”
It took a moment for Ken to respond, and even Joey Leone was momentarily caught off guard. Then, Ken burst into a hearty peal of laughter, captivating the curiosity of those around them. He clutched his stomach, nearly doubling over with exhilaration. Nearby, Joey’s chuckles joined in, deepening the disappointment etched across Mercedes’s face.
“She caught you in the act?!” Ken repeated even louder. “Oh, Mercedes, you didn’t know how much you’ve made us happy–”
“I’m not fucking kidding, Ken,” she said, her cheeks flushing with anger, her fists clenching at her sides. “That was fucked up! I can’t believe I let myself get carried away like that!” Mercedes continued, her voice cracking.
Joey stuck out his hand, offering for Mercedes to hold. “Come on, darling, why don’t you take a seat first?”
Out of the blue, Mercedes slammed her hand on the table, shaking everything on the surface. Tears were already rolling down her cheeks, and the way her hand clutched the napkin showed the very little tolerance she still had.
“Didn’t you both hear me?” she asked, shifting her gaze between Ken and Joey. “You got me to make a guy cheat on his pregnant wife!”
Ken scratched his head, baffled by Mercedes’s intense upset. It was hard for him to grasp why she was so worked up. After all, Reena was the one who had led to Tommy breaking things off with Mercedes, creating a strain in their longstanding open relationship. Not to mention, Reena’s involvement had driven Mercedes’s father, Juan Cortez, to leave Vice City out of concern over Tommy’s menacing threats.
“Don’t tell me–” Ken halted as he examined Mercedes’s glare, still in disbelief at what he was seeing. “You’re feeling guilty?!”
Joey’s expression showed the same bewildered yet amused emotion that Ken had.
Mercedes looked confused, her brows creasing in the middle of her forehead. “What do you want me to feel, proud?!”
That was it. Ken wasn’t able to stop himself from jeering, a mocking grin tugging at the corner of his lips. “Well, well, well, if it isn’t your conscience,” he taunted, his words dripping with sarcasm.
“I can’t believe I let you use me like that–”
“Oh, please. Spare us the drama!” he retorted, shrugging his shoulders nonchalantly as if her issue was of little consequence to him. “You showed up to Tommy on your own terms. You specifically found ways to trap him with you. You knew exactly what you were doing–”
Mercedes’s hand landed on Ken’s face with an unmistakable smack, prompting gasping reactions from the people around. The sharp sting coursed across his skin, causing his head to jerk to the side in response. Slowly, he redirected his gaze toward her, shock and disbelief coursing through his veins. Raising a hand to his cheek, Ken tried to massage the spot where her slap had inflicted the most discomfort, an attempt to soothe the stinging pain that only worsened with each second.
With a head shake, Ken cackled as he brushed his tongue over the inner wall of his cheek, feeling its soreness. “Now, I have no doubt why Tommy chose her over you,” he said. “Reena doesn’t have claws.”
Mercedes took a step back, her chest heaving up and down. “I’m done with this partnership,” she declared, her voice tremulous yet firm. “And I regret ever saying yes to both of you.”
Joey Leone sighed deeply. He grabbed the napkin that Mercedes scrunched and wiped it over his mouth despite not having touched his meal. He leaned back against the chair, his arms crossed, clearly not giving a damn about what Mercedes said. “You already did it,” he murmured, but his voice was loud enough to be heard. “If she wasn’t pregnant, would you be feeling the same? Get off your high horse or listen to the angels in your head, be my guest.”
Mercedes shot Joey a withering glare before turning back to Ken. “You can keep your dirty plans to yourself,” she snapped. “I don’t want any part of it anymore.”
“Ah, how the mighty have fallen,” Ken remarked, waving a hand in her spot. “One moment you’re plotting against Reena, and the next, you’re crying about it.”
“You’re both despicable,” she hissed as she spun on her heels and stomped away, leaving Ken and Joey at the table.
Whispers spread through the crowd as Mercedes vanished from sight. Ken pulled over a chair and plopped down, extending his legs and giving a little chuckle to himself. “Well, that was quite a show,” he remarked, even though a tinge of embarrassment lingered. He gave his jaw and neck a quick flex, trying to play it cool and act like the slap didn’t faze him.
“She slaps hard, don’t you think?” Joey teased. “Relax, Ken. Just imagine the kind of trouble Tommy’s in now. That’s rewarding enough.”
Though it was easier said than done, Ken did agree. “And your sister,” he said. “I’ll try to get in touch with her and see what’s going on.”
“What if she divorces Tommy?” Joey asked. “What about our plan?”
That, Ken didn’t foresee. The question instantly bugged him deeply. If Reena backed down in her marriage, it would turn their surprise into nothing but a mere slap on the wrist. All the money paid, time spent, and work done would go down the drain.
“I’ll make sure she won’t,” Ken ascertained, brewing a plan in his head. “With their baby on the way, I don’t think it would be easy for her. Besides, I doubt Tommy would allow it.”
Joey nodded, and then he stood, drawing out his purse. “Keep your word. I don’t want no more failures.” He left a few dollars on the table, then walked out to the door, leaving Ken alone in the bistro.
Ken sank into the seat, staring at the money that Joey left, enough just to pay only for his own meal, making Ken realize that he had to fend off for himself.
“What a miser,” he whispered, rolling his eyes at the Don who was no longer in sight. “No doubt, Salvatore left you so little…”
THE CHEETAH ROARED up the ramp and into the driveway, its tires skimming over the uneven terrain as Tommy dashed to the base of the concrete steps, a plume of dust billowing in its wake. Moving quickly, he exited the car and forcefully shut the door, ascending the steps with determined strides, his fists clenched in anger and frustration.
In the hospital, to say he was mortified was an understatement as he entered Reena’s room, finding it empty. He was just gone for a short moment, a quick meeting with Steve Scott and the rest of the studio personnel, telling them that he’d be closing down the whole operation, much to their disappointment. No more selling, no more deals with Alex Shrub. He could go fuck himself, and partly, Tommy blamed him for what happened.
Like a bolt of lightning, he rushed to the front desk, causing the staff to exchange startled glances as they watched his urgent movements.
“Where’s my wife?!” he blurted out the question, his chest plagued with anxiety.
The answer hit him like a punch to the gut. Reena had checked out, accompanied by a man Tommy assumed to be Leigh based on the staff’s description. Exasperation boiled within him, threatening to spill over into a fit of rage. But just as the storm of his emotions daunted to engulf him and everyone else around him, his phone chimed with a message from Marcus.
An instant relief surged through him as he discovered that Reena had arrived at the estate, accompanied by Leigh.
Without hesitation, he turned on his heel and swiftly left the hospital. The drive back to the estate was a blur, his heart racing with anticipation and uncertainty, badly hoping to see her and to know what the hell was going on as if it could get worse.
As he ascended the steps and entered the foyer, Tommy’s gaze landed on Leigh, who stood there alongside Marcus. A flicker of unease flashed across Leigh’s face as their eyes met, guilt and regret unmistakably etched in his expression. Leigh’s hands instinctively rose, a gesture of surrender.
“Boss, I’m sorry–”
“We’re gonna talk,” Tommy declared, his finger pointing straight in Leigh’s direction. Yet, without pausing, Tommy maintained his course, his footsteps unswayed as he continued toward the staircase.
The notion that she might have departed without any warning gnawed at Tommy’s mind. A shiver ran down his spine at the mere idea, a surge of apprehension tightening his chest. However, the prospect of chasing after her, no matter the distance, was more certain that his fear. He’d willingly traverse the path to Angel Pine countless times without a care for the world, just like before, if that was where she chose to go.
His footsteps thudded on the carpet, heavy as his brimming emotions. When he passed by the nursery, he didn’t see Cleo and Mrs. Hubbard. Everything, including his son’s toys that were always scattered on the mat, was tucked away in storage boxes under the cabinet.
With his face churning, he made his way toward their bedroom, finding them there… and his wife.
The worry that burdened his shoulders was lifted upon laying his eyes on her, realizing that she hadn’t left him… yet. Her coat hung loosely on her shoulders, covering her whole body, concealing the curve of her baby bump. Cleo was sitting on the mattress, quietly watching what she and Mrs. Hubbard were doing. Tommy’s hope crumbled to dust, however, when he realized that she was helping Mrs. Hubbard pack away their clothes into a suitcase, almost filled with everything that belonged to her in their wardrobe.
Mrs. Hubbard stopped upon seeing him. Her eyes blinked uncontrollably before she was able to muster the words to call out to Reena. “Dear,” she mumbled without taking her eyes off him. “Mr. Vercetti’s here.”
Reena let her hand rest above her belly, then she crouched down a bit, planting a kiss on Cleo’s head. With a gentle smile, she gave Mrs. Hubbard a firm nod, and the old woman took Cleo by the crook of his arms and stepped out of the room.
This was all too familiar. She had done this before. That memory was vague, but how she glared at him that day remained etched in his mind. Yet, as he sought resentment in her eyes, all Tommy could sense was her resignation and agony, none of which he preferred to see.
“Sweetheart,” he said, almost in a whisper. “Are you okay?” He took steps toward the foot of the bed, closing in the distance between them. “I-I went to the hospital, and they said you left.”
He was so troubled that she did, but he couldn’t bring himself to show it to her right now, not after all the things he’d done to her. It was tormenting to watch her wither away in the hospital, the light in her eyes ebbing, the vigor in her body shedding. Somehow, she looked the same as she did before in Angel Pine – beautiful but miserable.
“Please, don’t be mad at Leigh,” Reena said. Her words caught him off guard, a surprising plea that softened his stance. “I forced him to take me home. It’s not his fault.”
Tommy nodded, her explanation causing a swift change in his thoughts. His initial intention to reprimand his henchman dissolved in the face of her honesty. “I won’t, I promise,” he assured her.
His gaze settled on the suitcase resting on the bed. It glared at him like a sentient object, telling him without a word that his time had run out. Its weight sank into the sheets, carving a hollow space beneath. Tommy swallowed the lump in his throat, his guts burdened with a harrowing feeling of desperation.
“May I know where you’re going?” he asked, unable to stop himself from inquiring.
Reena’s gaze bore into his, her eyes like windows to her soul. Tommy stiffened, but he remained staring at her, afraid that the moment he turned away, she’d be gone again in his sight.
Her mouth parted slightly, and a soundless breath seemed to slip from her beautiful lips.
“Can I ask you something?” she murmured.
In no time, Tommy found himself nodding vigorously once more, ascertaining that whatever question she asked, he’d answer; that whatever thing she wanted to have, he’d provide.
“Of course,” he replied, his eyes fluttering in anticipation.
She dipped her chin into her chest while she played with her fingers, seemingly reluctant. “Would you be willing to do anything for me–”
“Yes!” he answered despite her question unfinished. “Yes, yes I’ll do everything, anything for you–”
“I want a divorce.”
It seemed like the air was snagged from his lungs, leaving him breathless. Every syllable she uttered was a piercing dagger into his heart, impaling him with dread that spread like a disease in his head. Somehow, he knew she’d say it at some point, but hearing the words flow from her lips was scarier and more painful than he could ever imagine. Shock, regret, and a great pang of guilt suffocated him with the smothering reality of the irreparable damage his actions had caused.
He knew he said he’d do everything, anything. He would, but that.
“No…” The word tumbled out of his mouth, a desperate plea as he struggled to pull himself together. “That, I can’t give you.”
She looked at him, her gaze softening, but her resolve remained unyielding. “I don’t think I can live with you anymore…”
Tommy’s chest tightened, his throat constricting as he fought back tears of his own. He couldn’t lose her, not like this. “Reena, please,” he choked out, his voice cracking. “Give me a chance…”
This must be what it was like to be lost. Tommy had always come out on top in everything he'd ever done. Even when faced with death, he’d felt certain of his survival. There seemed to be no obstacle he couldn’t conquer, no challenge he couldn’t tackle – except for losing the one person he’d always yearned for.
“If you don’t wanna see me, I won’t show up. If you don’t wanna hear me, I won’t talk. If you don’t wanna be near me, I’ll stay away… just… just don’t leave me like this…”
Tears rolled down his face. Tommy had never been compelled to cry, not even when he was hurt. He’d never shown such weakness to anyone, not even to his own father. But now, he couldn’t help it. His knees wavered as he slumped to the bed, cupping his hands on his eyes, whimpering at every shuddered breath.
If he could just turn back time, he would.
A hand gently rested on his shoulder, causing him to lift his gaze. Reena stood in front of him, her eyes fixed on his. Her touch was comforting as if it could silence the tumult inside him. His tears slowed as he felt the warmth of her palm, giving him respite from the regret that had been tearing him apart.
“Me and Cleo… we’ll move out. I asked Mrs. Hubbard to check an apartment somewhere Downtown,” she stated, her voice steady. “I need space and time.”
Tommy’s fingers enveloped her hand, his lips brushing against her knuckles, leaving traces of tender kisses that mingled with his tears. In silence, he nodded, an affirmation to her words, fully aware that this fleeting moment might mark the final time Reena would allow him to grasp her hand before leaving him in the estate.
“You’ll know where we are, but you won’t come there without my permission.”
“I won’t… I swear…” he said, his heart overflowing with sincerity.
She squeezed his hand, then she wrapped her arms around him. Tommy pressed his face into her bosom, feeling the tenderness of her embrace. His hand lowered to her belly, caressing every inch of her skin, relishing their baby that she carefully nurtured within.
“I love you…” he muttered, taking one last chance to convince her not to go.
Reena let him go, and though Tommy struggled to do so, he let his own arms drop as she pulled away. With her head bowed down, Reena turned to leave. Her pale scent laden with floral fragrance left a trail in the air, making Tommy feel in his heart how much he’d miss her.
All he could do was watch her walk away, the chasm he caused widening between them. The prospect of facing the upcoming days and nights without her was beyond frightening, but he knew that he’d do whatever it took to earn back her forgiveness, even if it meant going through hell and back.
Now that he already had her, he wasn’t going to let her slip away.
Notes:
Thank you so much for reading <3
Chapter 72: Face the Truth
Notes:
To the one who showers me kudos like a gentle rain,
In moments slow and steady, you ease the strain,
When my inbox echoes silence, pure and plain,
And stats unmoving in a rhythmic refrain.
You're the cause of my grin, breaking my sorrowful chain.In times tinged with blue, your presence so kind,
A beacon when I’m ignored, a comforting find,
In the void’s echoes, you encourage my sulking mind,
Savior, your touch, a remedy entwined.Despite uncertainty, not knowing what to do,
This short poem's dedicated solely to you.
In this realm where purpose I constantly pursue,
You’re my blessing, my solace, ever anew.
Thank you. With all my heart.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
TOMMY SAT ALONE at the bar, the dimly lit surroundings casting shadows that seemed to mirror the darkness within him. The amber liquid in his glass glinted under the soft lights, its allure promising a temporary escape from the storm of his emotions. He lifted the glass to his lips and took a long sip, the sharp burn of the alcohol giving him a brief respite.
As the liquid warmed his throat, Tommy’s gaze became distant, lost in thoughts he could no longer subdue. The bar’s ambiance seemed to fade away, replaced by flashes of happier times – the promise of a future he’d jeopardized with his own recklessness and selfishness.
With a heavy sigh, Tommy placed the glass back onto the counter, his fingers tracing the moisture that clung to its surface. His own mistakes pressed down on him, a reminder of his choices that had altered the course of his once-beautiful life. He reached for the glass again, contemplating whether another drink could dull the ache in his chest.
It couldn’t.
Back in the estate, it was unusually quiet, lacking the joyful sounds of giggles and cries that would echo from the other room. Tommy felt a deep longing for his son. He missed the moments of playing with Cleo, carrying him, and strolling together on the patio during the afternoons. He missed when he’d shout “Papa” excitedly, the adorable protests he’d make when Tommy tidied up his toys, and the tantrums he’d throw when Reena wanted to give him a shower.
More than that, his desire to feel his wife every morning upon waking and every night before sleeping was a persistent ache, a burning hunger that consumed him. He longed to feel her belly as the life within her grew, the life they both made, but instead, the lifeless pillow was all he had to hold.
And it was his fault.
The bar hummed with the quiet buzz of conversations and the clinking of glasses, but Tommy had never felt so alone. It didn’t differ when he’d sit in his office, or in the sitting room, or in their bedroom. Everywhere was empty.
Lost in his musings, he didn’t notice the approach of another until a firm hand gently settled on his shoulder. Startled, he looked up, his eyes meeting the warm gaze of Earnest Kelly. An instant gratitude flickered in Tommy’s chest, the old man’s comforting presence pulling him out of the whirlwind of his thoughts.
Earnest Kelly slid onto a stool at the counter, a warm smile spreading across his face as Tommy looked up from his half-empty glass.
“Hey, sonny,” Earnest greeted, his gravelly voice carrying a sense of familiarity. “You’re getting predictable, you know? Inviting an old man like me for a drink that he ain’t refusing…”
Tommy forced a chuckle. “Well, you’re the only one who can keep up with me, Pops.”
The bartender came close, and Tommy gestured for him to bring a drink for Earnest. As the bartender retreated, they settled comfortably in their seats. Despite their surroundings, a palpable stillness settled between them, a shroud of uncertainty suffocating Tommy’s lungs, but at least, for now, it didn’t feel so lonely.
And he knew for sure that the old man could tell, and so, he opened his mouth to speak.
“Can’t say the weather’s been too kind lately,” Tommy remarked, initiating a small talk.
Earnest nodded, a knowing smile tugging at his lips. “Seems like Vice City can’t make up its mind. One day it’s scorching, the next it’s pouring rain.”
“Ain’t that the truth?” Tommy said, taking a sip of his drink as he cast Earnest a look. “Keeps us on our toes, I guess.”
The old man’s eyes crinkled in amusement. “Speaking of keeping on toes, how’s the state of things in this city?”
“Same old hustle and bustle, Pops. The streets are alive with all sorts, and the deals keep going down.”
He heard Earnest hum, then the old man settled down his glass on the counter. Earnest turned and faced him, his left eyebrow arched, his look a mix of curiosity and concern. “And you? You’ve been keeping busy?”
Tommy’s lips curved into a wry smile. “You could say that. Got my hands in a few things, trying to keep business running smooth.”
The bartender arrived, setting a tempting assortment of crisps and chips in front of them. Despite the delectable display, Tommy found himself without an appetite, his stomach reeling as if it had taken a blow. Though he attempted to extend his hand toward the snack, his fingers halted mid-air. With a sigh, Tommy pulled back, releasing a weighty breath from his lungs.
“How’ve you been holding up, son?” Earnest finally asked.
His heart skipped a beat, the question hitting closer to home than he expected. It was as if the old man had reached into the depths of his thoughts and pulled out the very thing he’d been trying to hide in spite of the façade he tried to show.
Tommy’s heartbeat quickened as he leaned in, his gaze turning distant. There was no sense in prolonging the thing he was afraid to talk about. After all, wasn’t it the reason why he’d sought for his pops?
“It’s… it’s been a month since Reena left,” he said, his voice lowering to a more forlorn tone. “Haven’t seen her or Cleo since then.”
Rumors circulated like wildfire. Inevitably, with Alex Shrub’s involvement and the presence of InterGlobal Films’ staff as witnesses, the situation went beyond his control. It was Umberto Robina who initiated the inquiries, his call setting off a chain reaction as associates, privy to affairs they shouldn’t have meddled in, reached out to him.
He welcomed them all, keeping his mouth shut. The barrage of questions from them was not a concern. At the forefront of Tommy’s mind was the fact that none of them knew Reena’s whereabouts and contact, keeping her shielded from all the invasiveness of their private life. She’d found refuge in a silent corner of Vice Point, a place Tommy was barred from going to, living peacefully with Cleo, worlds away from his own troubled existence.
Within the first two weeks after they left, Tommy had barely slept, haunted by the memory of her farewell, the warmth of her embrace that he now regretted releasing.
He should’ve stood his ground. He shouldn’t have allowed her to go.
Nevertheless, amid all those who asked him, there was one notable person who never asked. Earnest Kelly didn’t even once call or send a message. Tommy knew that Earnest was likely aware of the situation, but he refrained from wrenching into matters that Tommy didn’t confirm to him personally.
It was one thing he liked about his pops, always giving him the benefit of the doubt, yet this time, he found himself wishing that the old man had been nosy, that he’d dared to intrude. It was a way to snap him out of his tormented reverie, but now, here they were, a month after, sitting side-by-side each other.
Earnest’s eyes remained fixed on him. “Go on, sonny,” he murmured. “What else do you wanna tell me?”
Tommy’s gaze dropped to his drink, his fingers curling around the glass as if seeking calm. “I messed up, Pops. Big time.”
“Messed up how?” The old man’s brows furrowed slightly, a mix of concern and curiosity crossing his face.
Tommy’s heart raced as he hovered on the precipice, his hesitation and embarrassment seeping into his bones. The words should to utter felt like barbs, painful and sharp, but they needed their rightful release.
He looked at Earnest, the lines on the old man’s face etched with kindness and patience, and for a moment, Tommy’s resolve wavered. The shame gnawed at him for causing hurt to his wife, for shattering her trust. But as he looked into the old man’s understanding eyes, he felt a glimmer of acceptance – an unspoken permission to unburden himself.
And so, he pushed through the barrier of his remorse, the words ready to tumble from his lips. His bitterness toward himself echoed, mingling with the weight of sorrow and regret he couldn’t take anymore.
“Reena caught me with someone else. It was… I was…” He paused, the knot in his throat constricting. “Pops, I… I didn’t mean it…”
It was a raw, painful truth that had been suppressed for far too long. And as the words settled between them, Tommy sensed a subtle shift. Earnest Kelly’s expression remained steady, his weathered look a canvas of empathy and understanding, but a fleeting shadow of disappointment crossed his eyes.
“What did she say?”
“She wanted a divorce…” Tommy choked as he spoke the last word, barely allowing it to get out of his mouth. “My wife wanted a divorce, but I refused… I can’t–”
“You said it’s been a month,” Earnest Kelly mused. “Have you tried talking to her again, sonny?”
Tommy shook his head, his fingers tracing the rim of his glass. “Every time I try, she won’t pick up, won’t let me near.” He felt a stinging pain as he looked up to the old man’s eyes. His jaw tightened, his grip on the glass getting taut. “She told me I can’t go to her, Pops, and I… I can’t bring myself to defy what she said. I’m scared… I’m scared that she’ll–”
His voice faltered, and he couldn’t complete the words he’d intended to convey, resorting to pressing a clenched fist against his trembling lips.
“I-I can’t lose her, Pops…” he stuttered, unable to keep them straight. “I’d do anything just so she’d stay with me and forgive me…”
Earnest took a deep breath, exhaling a heavy sigh that was tinged with defeat. “I’m not here to lecture you, sonny,” he said, his face softening. “But you’ve got to face the truth. You hurt her, and you’ve got to make things right.”
“I fucking want to, Pops. I want to fix things… But I don’t even know where to begin.”
A wave of “could-haves” crashed over Tommy. He thought of the nights he and Reena would spend to sit along the Waterview, the salt-scented breeze carrying her laughter into the night sky as he told her stories she loved listening to. He imagined the warmth of Cleo’s embrace, the sound of his innocent giggles echoing through their home. The thought of their baby and the way she would’ve felt in Reena’s belly… all of them were fading dreams that just added a sharp sting of pain in his heart.
Tommy felt a lump forming in his throat, regret and aching that became too much to bear. He blinked back tears, his chest constricting. And then, unable to contain the flood of emotions any longer, he lowered his head, his shoulders trembling as silent tears escaped his eyes.
Earnest Kelly’s frail hand rested on his shoulder. As Tommy gazed at him, all he could sense was his support and the solace his presence offered… a respite from judgment and resentment. The old man’s gaze remained trained on him, wordlessly urging him to find the courage to continue.
For a moment, he hadn’t felt doubt and the gnawing guilt that had been eating him up.
A tender smile tugged at his pops’ lips. It was soft, his expression a steady anchor amid the storm. Then, the old man took a thoughtful sip of his drink, his beam unwavering. “Well, sonny, nothing would happen if you’d just sulk here and talk with me.”
No words were exchanged after that. Together, they drank the liquor in their glasses, quelling their thirsts in silence. Tommy already knew what he had to do, and Earnest Kelly, seemingly aware of his realization, left the bar with deliberate yet resolute steps.
The Downtown apartment building stood in humble contrast to its surroundings, displaying a simple yet weathered exterior. Its façade was painted with a muted, worn-out beige, displaying clear signs of the passage of time. Cracks marred the plaster, and chips in the paint told the story of years of exposure to the elements. Adjacent to the building, a solitary streetlamp stood sentinel, its soft form filtered through the leaves of a leafy canopy tree. While the structure carried an air of humble simplicity, the spacious yard surrounding it featured untamed shrubs and modest flowers, lending a touch of nature’s beauty to its unassuming charm.
It bore little resemblance to the more upscale apartment complexes in Vice Point.
Near the mini-garden, a weathered bench sat, offering a quiet vantage point for those seeking respite from the world’s noise. Reena occupied this seat alongside Mrs. Hubbard, their gazes tenderly fixed on Cleo as he busied himself among the shrubs, his tiny hands carefully plucking petals. The little boy frolicked toward his mother, proudly extending the delicate bloom he’d collected, a fusion of pink and yellow that, despite their small sizes, exuded a captivating beauty.
Reena accepted the gift with a gentle grin, her face bathed in the golden embrace of the afternoon sun’s rays. It wasn’t merely the warm, fading glow of the setting sun that cast its radiance upon her; rather, it was her own beauty, beaming like a beacon of life itself. She appeared effortlessly at ease, though her eyes still held sorrow.
Tommy couldn’t help but notice the subtle changes – the soft curve of her belly, the life growing within her, had grown bigger compared to the last time he’d seen her.
His hand ached to touch her again. Their Tamia.
Behind the wheel, he remained transfixed, watching silently. Reena rose from her seat as Cleo tugged her hand, and they glided along the apartment’s yard, the boy’s giggle casting ripples of joy through the air. Sunlight filtered through the leaves of the trees, casting dappled patterns of light and shadow on the pavement, a gentle dance that mirrored the rhythms of their steps. A couple of cars breezed by, their engines purring like distant whispers, momentarily veiling Tommy’s view and causing a tautness to seize his muscles.
On the passenger seat beside him, a bouquet of flowers rested, a vivid burst of colors and fragrances that he’d carefully selected. He’d chosen the most opulent arrangement on display, an abundance of blooms cascading together in a harmonious blend of hues. Rich purples, velvety reds, and delicate pinks intermingled, their scents interwoven to create a fragrance that permeated the car interior. The petals boasted a texture so inviting that one could almost feel their softness beneath their fingertips, while the faintest brush against a leaf released an aroma that invoked images of flourishing gardens.
Tommy wanted to give them to his wife – a heartfelt offering meant to commence his attempts to convince her to go back to him.
As he watched Reena and Cleo draw nearer, he tightened his grip on the steering wheel.
His heart thudded against his chest, each beat a reminder of the stakes at hand. His gaze fell on the gift on the passenger seat, their colors standing in stark contrast to the weight he felt. A fragile peace offering, a bridge he hoped would open the doors to mend the fractures that ripped them apart from him.
Swallowing the lump in his throat, Tommy took a tentative step onto the sun-drenched pavement, the car door closing behind him in a hushed way. His throat trembled, a tangled mess of words and emotions caught in his gorge, threatening to overwhelm him.
He pressed forward, his hold shaking as he clutched the bouquet of flowers. It was Mrs. Hubbard who first caught sight of him, her eyes widening with recognition. She called out to Reena, who had been engrossed in play with their son, prompting her to turn and steal a glance over her shoulder.
As Tommy’s gaze locked onto his wife’s eyes, time seemed to freeze. Not a single word was spoken, but Reena’s expression revealed a staunch indifference. It was a disheartening realization; until now, she had no desire for his presence, and even though Cleo rushed toward him with unbridled enthusiasm, Reena remained far away.
Lowering himself to a crouch, Tommy gently scooped Cleo into his arms, the child’s attention now captivated by the vibrant blooms he held, his tiny fingers reaching out to touch them as he mumbled the word “flowers” in an endearingly garbled manner.
The sun cast long, stretching shadows and the world continued its ceaseless hustle around them. Reena placed a hand on her belly as the wind blew the skirt of her dress, causing it to dance along with the breeze.
“Mama!” Cleo pointed at her, but even before he did, Tommy already had his eyes on her.
Summoning every ounce of strength he could muster, Tommy took a determined step forward, closing the distance between him and his wife...
Notes:
I'm thrilled to see I got a new subscriber to both of my fics T_T I don't know what I did to deserve it T_T
Thank you so much for reading <3
Chapter 73: Acceptance
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
SUNLIGHT POURED THROUGH the kitchen windows, bathing everything in a warm glow. Reena pulled the curtain aside, taking in the beauty of the garden and the shimmering pool. Armed with a small knife, she sliced the ripe bananas she’d peeled earlier, popping a piece into her mouth. The burst of sweet flavor was a delight as she dropped the slices into the blender. A splash of almond milk and a couple of tablespoons of oats followed suit in the food processor. She hesitated, briefly considering adding some sugar, but her doctor’s advice about cutting down on sweets echoed in her mind, so she decided against it.
The blender roared to life, transforming the ingredients into a smooth, creamy mixture. She hit the pause button and tossed in a cup of crushed ice, then resumed blending. The result was a refreshing concoction that looked absolutely revitalizing.
Tamia’s due date was just around the corner. During her recent doctor’s appointment, she learned that she might give birth in less than two weeks. Her once-concealable baby bump had grown significantly, a far cry from when she could hide it under oversized clothes and coats just a few months back. When she first arrived at the villa, her belly was still relatively small. However, now it had expanded so much that she couldn’t even reach the corner of the countertop without gently pressing against her stomach.
On the day she arrived at the villa, Reena couldn’t help but be taken aback by its incredible charm. The outside world seemed to fade away once she made it inside. Palm trees swayed in rhythm with the gentle breeze, casting playful shadows on the terracotta walls. Colorful flowers spilled over balconies, and the sound of water trickling from a nearby fountain was undeniably soothing. Soft lighting illuminated marble floors and plush furnishings. Couches and chairs looked almost too inviting to resist, promising moments of relaxation. The air was sweet and rejuvenating, giving the space a dreamlike quality.
Inside the villa, time seemed to slow down, leaving behind her days of sorrow and offering a haven of tranquility and beauty, even just for a fleeting time.
It was a little world of respite to say the least.
Barely a month had passed since she’d settled into her new apartment when Tommy paid her an unannounced visit, walking up to her and Cleo with a bouquet in his hand one afternoon. Her life had been slowly finding its rhythm, feeling almost perfect in its newfound stability. Yet, with his sudden appearance, the serenity she’d begun to enjoy was shattered in an instant.
To say that she rejected him would be an understatement; it was as if the walls of her heart had been fortified against his presence. However, Tommy remained resolute and undeterred, his determination to seek forgiveness was too insistent. Despite the obvious wall she’d erected between them, he refused to be put off, willing to go to great lengths to mend the chasm he’d created.
Then, the following day after his first appearance, he came again, and again, and again, until Reena was forced to speak to him, much to her dismay.
“What do you want?” She recalled herself asking.
Tommy must’ve taken it to the heart. It seemed like her mere question had given him a flicker of hope. He’d become more visible, more persistent, going as far as sending her gifts every single morning.
She’d grown tired of it. Tired of denying. Tired of resisting. Tired of being unforgiving.
Until one day, Leigh went to her with news – Tommy requested that she move to the villa in Vice Point. He pressed that the villa would offer a safer and more spacious environment for her, Cleo, and Mrs. Hubbard compared to their current one-bedroom flat. Reena was quick to decline the offer, expressing her reluctance to accept such a big thing from Tommy. However, Leigh revealed that the villa had a sentimental significance – it was intended to be Tommy’s welcome gift to her when she initially came to Vice City with him. Since circumstances had prevented him from presenting it earlier, Tommy now wished for her to have it.
The villa didn’t disappoint, but it couldn’t calm down her inhibitions and pain.
Lonely as she was, Reena knew she had to be firm. Not a day passed by without her thinking of what Tommy did. She knew that wallowing in that memory did her no good, but maybe, she thought, if she kept thinking about it, the memory and the churning of her stomach would eventually fade.
They didn’t, unfortunately.
In the weeks that followed, Reena found herself seeking counsel from the only lawyer she trusted to guide her through this difficult process – Ken Rosenberg. His unwavering support and valuable advice had been instrumental as she navigated the decisions ahead. Although Reena had expressed her strong inclination to end her ties with Tommy, Ken urged her to take a moment for careful consideration. He cautioned her about the complexities involved in the legal proceedings, emphasizing that they’d demand significant time, effort, and resources. Moreover, he stressed the emotional toll it could take on both her and her son, urging her to weigh the options thoroughly before continuing.
And with Tamia on the way, Reena wasn’t sure if she could handle everything all by herself.
At night, she surrendered to tears, her eyes growing parched, swollen, and weary until no more drops of sorrow graced her cheeks. Perhaps, in her weariness, slumber would embrace her more readily, sparing her from the chill of the vacant space beside her – a reminder of her solitude as she lay alone in bed.
“Miss Reena,” Leigh’s voice chimed in from the upper floor. “What else do you want me to do with the excess wallpaper?”
She glanced upward and spotted his head poking out from the railing. “Nothing for now! Just put it aside…” she replied.
“Alright, miss… Anything else you need me doing?”
“Maybe you can come down here. I can’t get the honey in the cupboard.”
But as days went by, somehow, her condition gradually improved. With self-help books arriving from Asuka, her mornings were occupied with reading, and the rest of the day was dedicated to teaching Cleo how to hold a pen and explore drawing. Cleo’s room in the villa was adorned with wallpapers by Leigh as the little boy found joy in scribbling and creating art. Each day brought new drawings near his bed – unpredictable lines and irregular shapes that never failed to bring a smile to her face. With the walls already covered in his evolving masterpieces, she had to switch his canvas for the third time. Fortunately, Leigh was there to help her out, just like Mrs. Hubbard, making things more manageable.
Now, she was waiting for her son to come back. Mrs. Hubbard had taken Cleo to the estate to be with Tommy. He said he already missed being with Cleo, so she agreed to let her son go and spend some time with his father.
“I miss you.”
It was Tommy’s message to her, but she didn’t answer him. If he only knew how she missed him too, but no amount of yearning could make her forget.
The smoothie gurgled at the heart of the swirling vortex inside the blender. She hit the switch a couple of times, fine-tuning its consistency until she was content with the result. Her throat tingled as she gazed at the concoction, eager to savor the blend she’d crafted – enough to fill two glasses with delightful goodness. Perhaps a touch of honey would make it even better.
What takes Leigh so long?
A rumble of an engine echoed from the garage, causing her head to turn in its direction.
They must be back, she thought.
Just before she could turn around, a joyful burst of laughter echoed from outside, causing Reena to startle as the door swung open. Mrs. Hubbard entered with a somewhat odd smile, holding a handbag in one hand and a coat in the other. Then, her little angel burst in, giggling all the way as he ran to her. No longer clad in the white shirt from their departure, Cleo now sported a red tee and tiny jeans that perfectly matched the cute sideburns on either side of his face.
His steps were more confident and swift, and he advanced toward her with determination. “Papa!” Cleo’s voice rang out in excitement, his small form practically bubbling with energy.
Gently, Reena settled into a chair and leaned to the side, allowing the little boy to reach her cheek for a kiss. “I’m not Papa,” she remarked with a playful grin, her fingers cradling Cleo’s face as she turned it to the side and planted soft kisses on his fluffy cheeks. “Did you miss Mama?” she inquired, her fingers dancing across his waist, causing peals of laughter to escape Cleo as he squirmed happily in her embrace.
“Papa!” he exclaimed once again, pointing at the door.
Raising her gaze, her heart skipped a beat at the sight of Tommy entering with paper bags in hand, a sheepish beam tugging at his lips. Reena felt a mix of emotions, unsure of how to react. Glancing at Mrs. Hubbard for some unspoken support, she found the old woman deliberately avoiding her gaze, leaving her to navigate the situation alone. She stepped forward and took Cleo from Reena’s arms, leaving her sitting there, facing Tommy.
“I’ll wash him upstairs, dear.”
“Wait–”
Before she knew it, Mrs. Hubbard and Cleo hurriedly ascended the stairs. As Leigh’s feet began to descend, Reena caught a glimpse of his presence, but Mrs. Hubbard swiftly pushed him back, concealing them both from view as they vanished onto the landing above.
Deep inside, Reena found herself torn between conflicting emotions. While part of her wanted to be angry, she recognized that Mrs. Hubbard’s intentions were well-meaning. However, the older woman was well aware of Reena’s reluctance to have Tommy around, which was precisely why she’d chosen to relocate. His presence had always stirred a sense of discomfort within her.
Yet, now that he stood before her, his eyes pleading and his smile loving, she fought the impulse to tug at the collar of his shirt, to pull him closer, and to lose herself in his kiss–
No, she probably didn’t want that. The last person he’d kissed on the lips wasn’t her.
Tommy placed the paper bags on the dining table, their contents shuffling within the thin packaging. He presented a slightly green banana, a punnet filled with an assortment of berries encased in plastic, along with a couple of apples and pears. “I brought you some more fruits,” he murmured, a tender smile gracing his lips. “Mrs. Hubbard mentioned you enjoy making smoothies. Would you fancy another blend? Perhaps with these berries?”
She remained silent, rising from her chair and retracing her steps to the kitchen counter. Another batch of gifts, another round of thoughtful gestures. Not once had she mustered a thank-you or a smile for him whenever he brought her things she enjoyed. Yet, despite her aloofness, Tommy’s resolve stood unwavering. Mrs. Hubbard or Leigh would undoubtedly brief him about her recent interests, and like clockwork, supplies or tokens related to those would appear the next day. Flowers, for example, arrived every morning, either at the doorstep or adorning the dining table. Even if she chose to overlook them, Mrs. Hubbard would rescue the bouquet, placing it in a vase and tending to it with water. The blossoms endured, their vitality preserved next to the kitchen sink’s window. Just before they would wilt, a fresh bouquet would arrive, accompanied by a note echoing the same message.
“I love you. You’re my home.”
His initials would be found at the bottom.
“How are you feeling today?” he inquired, taking cautious steps closer, as if wary of overstepping any boundaries. “Does your back still hurt?”
Of course, he knew about the backaches. With her pregnancy progressing, Reena found herself grappling more frequently with the weight and tightness. Her hands and feet had also grown puffy, making walking a bit of a task.
“I’m fine,” she mumbled, stealing a glance at him before diverting her attention back to the blender. The noise was a convenient distraction, something she needed to fill the silence between them.
“I can do that for you…” he offered.
“No, let me. I like doing this.”
Tommy stood right next to her, while her eyes were fixed on the drink, spiraling and blending into a creamy concoction. He felt too close, almost suffocating, and an impulse to step away surged within her. But her legs seemed unwilling to budge, trapping her in her spot.
“Reena, can we talk?” he said, leaning on the counter beside her.
She didn’t look at him, but she nodded, her attention focused on pouring the smoothie into a glass. He seemed to be waiting for her to finish, so she grabbed another glass and poured the remaining smoothie into it.
“Come back to the estate, please. We’re almost there.”
Turning around, she pulled open a drawer and retrieved a couple of plastic straws. Reena remained silent.
“I wanna be with you every day…”
Holding the two glasses in her hands, she made her way slowly toward the living room. She noticed him closing his eyes momentarily. However, just before she could pass him, she extended her hand, offering him the other glass of smoothie. He seemed to hesitate, as if unsure whether to accept the glass or not.
“Come on, don’t leave me hanging,” she urged with a small smile.
He took the smoothie, his fingers brushing along her damp hands. “Thanks...”
“It doesn’t taste anything. I didn’t put sugar in it.” The honey. Damn it, Leigh.
Standing for too long while trying to keep her distance from Tommy had left her legs feeling drained. Out of nowhere, a sudden jolt of surprise shot through her. She gasped, a small laugh escaping her lips, and she found herself leaning on the table for support. The unexpected joy she felt momentarily overshadowed her lingering aversion.
“Tommy, look!” she exclaimed, drawing his attention to the protruding lump beneath her shirt. It stretched across her belly, a visible sign of the growing life inside her, pushing against her skin from side to side.
He approached and took the glass from her hand, setting the glass down on the table next to his own drink. With her hands now free, she boldly lifted her shirt, revealing her prominently swollen belly. It displayed traces of light to dark brown stretch marks and faint pinkish veins, tracing a path from the lower half to the middle, near where her navel poked out. As she observed, she could see Tamia’s movements, a gentle shifting and stretching, particularly on the upper right side, causing her belly to undulate and jerk slightly.
“She’s kicking!” Reena exclaimed in a hushed voice, her eyes meeting his with a mix of surprise and excitement.
“Can I touch her?”
“Yeah,” she replied, guiding his hands to feel the baby’s movements. “There she is.”
He let out a contented sigh. “She hasn’t made a move when I’m here. Just… just now,” he marveled, his hands cradling the curves of her belly, tuning into Tamia’s movements. Laughter bubbled from him as he gently explored, tracing the path of the stretch and movement.
Tamia seemed to sense her father’s presence. In fact, whenever Tommy was nearby, the baby would stir in her belly. Reena often concealed these moments, shielding herself with a pillow or retreating to the bedroom. Yet, this wasn’t the first instance the baby responded to his voice.
“She always does,” she confessed, letting her arms drop as a wave of embarrassment came to her. “I think she likes hearing your voice.”
His touch repulsed her for months, the idea of his hands touching someone else’s body etched in her mind. She’d sworn to herself that she wouldn’t allow him to feel her again. Yet here they were, standing face to face, both watching Tamia’s silent dance within her belly, his warm palms tenderly caressing her skin.
Tamia’s movements ceased, yet Tommy’s hands lingered on her belly. Reena anticipated his touch to retreat, but to her surprise, he gently took her hands from her side and raised them to his lips. His kisses were deliberate, each one a soft caress against her skin, his warm breath carrying tenderness. As his lips met her knuckles, she found herself keeping her head bowed, her heart stirred by the affectionate sincerity of his actions.
How she missed him doing this to her. Was this a moment of… vulnerability?
From his lips, he drew her hands to his chest, pressing them in his bosom, and Reena thought she felt his heartbeat.
“Come home with me,” he pleaded.
She lifted her head and met his gaze. Deep down, she knew she still carried the hurt from the past, an ache that time hadn’t fully healed. The feeling of not being enough for him remained a heavy burden, a shadow that lingered. But Tommy had faced it head-on. He owned up to his mistake, acknowledging the impulse that had clouded his judgment. He didn’t hold back his remorse, baring the weight of his regret for every second of that moment. His self-disgust was evident, his admission of weakness genuine. And he didn’t shy away from expressing his earnest desire to mend what was broken between them. It was a heartfelt plea to work things out together.
“I know I’ve hurt you, and I don’t deserve you...”
His words pinched her heart, but unlike before when indifference prevailed over her, now, she sensed pain. Not hers. But his.
“I’m not asking you to forgive me because I don’t deserve your forgiveness,” he said, his voice breaking with each beat. “But all I ask is that you come home with me. Hate me all you want, I don’t fucking care… I just want you safe.”
Her lips trembled. “I’m safe here–”
“Please,” he entreated, choking as his eyes welled with tears. “I’ve never wanted anyone in my life but you…”
The air wasn’t cold, and there was no dark Liberty Strait before her. She wasn’t standing on the balcony of the flat where she watched the lenient waves of the water splashing on the ground below. No Christmas lights or fireworks or city glows on the dim horizon. Just her and Tommy. Her hands found no strength to push him away, not when he was holding her, not when he was begging her to come home, and not when he reminded her of him that night.
When I said you fucked me up, I meant that…
It took her so long to mend her shattered heart. Now, she realized she was unwilling to live with that pain again.
Her fingers intertwined with his. “I don’t want to go back there yet. It’s… It’s still difficult for me,” she confessed, the pain of the past still echoing within her. She hesitated, the memories still a raw wound. “But if you’re willing, you can come here every day… and maybe, we can start over…” Reena lifted her eyes, locking her gaze with his.
His face lit up with immediate delight, a smile tugging at his lips. Releasing a sigh of relief, Tommy leaned in, placing a kiss atop her head. “Thank you,” he said, his voice carrying genuine gratitude as his arms encircled her, and with her face nestled against his chest, the familiar scent of ocean breeze filled her senses, a fragrance she’d always cherished.
She already lost Claude. She couldn’t lose Tommy as well.
Notes:
Thank you so much for reading <3
Chapter 74: Tamia
Chapter Text
IT WAS AN otherwise peaceful night if not for the sudden sharp pain that cut through Reena’s restful haze, forcing her to open her eyes. Her bedroom was bathed in a gentle, dim light, the soft glow of the moon seeping through the curtains. She was lying in bed, her body cushioned in a comfortable warmth as she slept…
…or so she thought.
She shut her eyes, her brows furrowing as another wave of discomfort washed over her. Grimacing, she shifted in bed, trying to find a more comfortable position. The pain was different, more intense than the usual unease she’d grown accustomed to. As she lay there, she felt a tightening in her abdomen, the sensation spreading like a slow, persistent ache.
Reena began to wonder which of the two things she did caused this attack. Was it because she came with Mrs. Hubbard to the grocery store to buy supplies for their pantry? The old woman had been scolding her throughout the trip, back and forth to the villa, saying that she should just be resting and waiting for her due time instead of tiring herself in doing things other people could do for her.
Or maybe, was it because she insisted on cleaning Cleo’s room on her own? Leigh was quick to catch her before she bent down to pick up the toys, almost causing her to tumble when she heard his thunderous voice telling her to stop. In a fit of annoyance for making her heart start, she instinctively threw a toy at Leigh, which he was able to catch before it crashed into the wall.
Tonight, she hadn’t eaten that much. Her shower before bed was warm. She was wearing her pajamas and a pair of thick socks. The entire day, despite feeling a bit of strain around her hips, which was not unusual, she assured herself that she’d be comfortable. There was no reason for her to feel this way.
With a quiet groan, Reena’s eyes fluttered open. She let out a slow breath, realizing that the pain wasn’t subsiding. It was coming in waves, each one stronger than the last. If she’d think about it carefully, it kind of reminded her of that night in Angel Pine, when she and 8-Ball were trying to escape from the house through the window on the second floor–
Panic flickered in her chest as she recognized the signs.
Gently, she pushed herself to a sitting position, her hand instinctively moving to cradle her belly. She took a deep breath, trying to steady herself as she felt another surge of pain wash over her. Clenching her teeth, she closed her eyes, focusing on her breathing as she rode out the discomfort. A faint sensation, like a gentle pop deep within her, caught her off guard. Her heart pounded in her chest as a warm rush of fluid surged between her legs, finding a puddle beneath her hips and legs, drenching the sheets.
“Oh, God…” she murmured.
Beside her, Tommy stirred, his sleep disrupted by her movements. He blinked awake, concern crossing his face as he saw her expression. “Are you okay?” he asked, his voice still heavy with sleep. He reached for the lamp on the bedside and pulled the switch on, flooding the room with a yellow-orange glow.
Tamia truly had wonderful timing. Of all nights, she chose to start wanting to come out on the very first time she allowed Tommy to stay in her room while she slept. It seemed like Mrs. Hubbard, Leigh, or both of them immediately contacted him and asked him to come over because Reena kept on doing what they thought was extraordinary. When Tommy arrived, she told him that she just accompanied Mrs. Hubbard to the grocery store and tried to clean her son’s room, none of which convinced him to side with her.
She met his gaze anxiously. “I think... It’s starting,” she managed to say, her voice wavering slightly as another contraction gripped her.
His eyes widened in realization, and he quickly sat up, fully awake now. “Labor?” he asked, his tone a mix of excitement and nervousness. Tommy’s eyes locked onto the spreading puddle of liquid on the bed. His lips parted slightly, momentarily speechless, caught in the sudden shift of events.
Reena nodded, her fingers clutching the edge of the bed as the pain intensified. “Yeah,” she replied through gritted teeth. “I... I think so.”
Without hesitation, Tommy swung his legs over the side of the bed and reached for her hand. “Okay, we’ve got this,” he said, his voice steady and reassuring. “Wait for me and relax. I’ll get the car ready.”
Despite telling her to calm down, Tommy showed no signs of it. His strident marching and booming voice woke up everyone in the villa, including Cleo. He didn’t even let her stand up anymore. Tommy scooped her in his arms and brought her down the stairs until they reached the car, and though Reena wanted to protest, she lacked the strength to do so.
With a firm order to Leigh not to let Mrs. Hubbard and Cleo out of his sight, Tommy left with her. Marcus drove them to the hospital, prudent yet haste, their car darting on the road in the middle of the night.
Reena lay on a bed that hardly gave her any comfort. The room buzzed with a sense of urgency as she clung to the edge, her fingers gripping the crisp sheets in a white-knuckled hold. Her face felt burning, beads of sweat forming on her forehead despite the cool air in the room. Every muscle in her body tensed with overwhelming waves of pain that rippled through her.
She closed her eyes, focusing on the sound of her own ragged breaths as she tried to survive the intensity of each contraction. Her body seemed to demand her full attention, the pain radiating from her core and spreading like wildfire. She could feel the pressure, the overwhelming force of her body’s efforts to bring her baby into the world.
A couple of nurses were busy attaching devices to her wrist and meticulously monitoring her vital signs. Aside from that, a doctor persistently prodded, assessing her readiness to begin the next phase. The rapid motions and muffled conversations blended into a whirlwind of commotion, creating an atmosphere that was both overwhelming and disorienting, making it a challenge for her to maintain focus.
Tommy stood by her side. His strong hand gripped hers, offering support. His gaze was unwavering, filled with concern and encouragement. Reena’s fingers clenched his, her nails digging into his palm.
“It hurts…” she whined over and over.
“Take a deep breath,” he said, blowing warm air into her hand. “Then, let it out slowly.”
Reena mirrored his movements, inhaling deeply through her nose and exhaling slowly through her mouth.
Hours passed by so fast as her body worked tirelessly, inching closer to the moment when she’d finally hold her daughter in her arms. The pain was indescribable – a crescendo that seemed to peak with every contraction. It would ebb away for a while, leaving her drained, only for it to start again, jolting her into her spot.
She didn’t know how she came to that point. There was just a persistent pressure between her legs as if she was being ripped apart, and when the doctor and nurses rushed in, she and Tommy knew it was the moment. With every ounce of strength she had left, Reena pushed in desperation and anticipation.
“Okay, one more time...” She could hear the doctor say.
Gritting her teeth, Reena’s left hand clenched the edge of the hospital bed while her right gripped Tommy’s, her muscles coiling like springs ready to release. She sucked a deep breath, feeling the force low in her abdomen, an almost primal sensation urging her onward. She bore down, channeling the force through her body, her heartbeat quickening with every push.
“We’re almost there,” the doctor said once more, but Reena’s body was nearly giving up.
“You can do it, baby,” Tommy whispered in her ear, shifting his worried gaze back and forth between her and the doctor.
Reena dipped her chin, sweat flowing down from her head. With one last try, she pushed, and a cry pierced the air, filling the room with the sound of new life.
Her body collapsed onto the bed, her chest heaving with exertion. Tommy’s hand brushed a damp strand of hair from her forehead, his eyes glistening with tears of joy. And on her chest, the tiny, fragile form of their daughter was placed, her arms instinctively wrapping around her.
My Tamia.
The compelling pain all over her body crippled her on the hospital bed, but the moment she felt the baby squirm and heard her voice, Reena regained a bit of strength. The entire time Tamia was on her body, Reena was looking down at her, and not a single fiber of her being wanted to stop from gazing at the beauty she was holding.
A hand cupped her head, and when she lifted her tired eyes, Tommy was there, smiling from ear to ear. He leaned forward, pressing a long kiss on the top of her head, telling her how she made it, how strong she was, until his soothing voice led her to rest.
~~~~~~~~~~
Reena woke up lying flat on her back, alone in the room. She sensed the sheets that were swathed all over her body, shuddering as a sudden chill swept over her. Her body felt like an echo of itself, every muscle aching and every nerve tingling with exhaustion. The room was a haze of white color, the soft light filtering in through the blinds, casting a gentle glow on everything. Was it still dark, she wondered, but as she lay on the hospital bed, her gaze fell to the white cot right at the foot of her bed.
A soft knock on the door drew her attention, and a nurse entered the room with a warm smile. “How are you feeling, Mrs. Vercetti?”
Reena managed a tired but content sigh. “Exhausted,” she said softly, her eyes flickering toward the cot where her precious newborn rested. “Can I… hold her?”
“Of course,” the nurse said. She approached the cot, picking up the baby swaddled in a white cloth. Then, the nurse brought Tamia toward her, laying her gently in Reena’s arms. “She’s beautiful, just like you...”
Her hands trembled slightly as she stroked Tamia’s delicate cheek with a trembling finger. The baby’s skin was soft, her breathing rhythmic and steady. She ran her fingers over the tufts of dark hair on her head, a mirror of Tommy’s features. Reena’s heart swelled with happiness and relief. She’d done it. She’d brought this little life into the world, just like she did with Cleo.
Tears welled up in her eyes as she looked down at her baby’s face.
As the nurse left the room, Tamia stirred slightly in her arms, her tiny fingers curling around Reena’s thumb. Her heart skipped a beat. She leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to the baby’s forehead. “Hello, baby,” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. “We’re going to make it beautiful for you…”
“Yes, we will…”
Reena’s gaze shot up, and at the doorway, she found Tommy standing with a gentle beam on his face. He looked exhausted, lacking proper sleep since last night, but it seemed like he didn’t mind. Reena had grown used to his presence since she allowed him to go to the villa whenever he wanted, which ultimately led to him being there every single day. He was always on call, always ready to come if she needed him, tirelessly jumping between the estate and the villa.
He walked in softly, making his way to her side with a deliberate yet gentle pace. Unlike the last time they were in the hospital, Reena didn’t feel the need to create distance this time. She welcomed his presence, a sense of comfort settling in as he joined her by the bedside.
“I almost fainted in the delivery room,” he whispered, chuckling at himself. He cupped his hand over Tamia’s head, his loving gaze relishing their baby’s features. “Good thing I didn’t…”
Reena laughed briefly, though her energy wasn’t enough to sustain her expression of amusement. “She’s a big girl, don’t you think?”
The door creaked open. Marcus, Leigh, and Mrs. Hubbard filed in, their faces radiating happiness. Seeing them all together filled Reena with delight, even more so, when her eyes laid upon her son in the old woman’s arms.
“Mama…” Cleo babbled, pointing at her in the bed.
Tommy helped her settle against the pillows, arranging the blanket over her legs. When he stood up, his eyes locked onto Cleo, a proud glimmer dancing in his gaze. With an inviting gesture, he approached their son, arms outstretched.
“Hey, little buddy,” he said, his voice tender as he greeted the boy.
Cleo, however, kept his wide gaze fixed on Reena and the baby in her arms. A smile tugged at her lips as she observed the curiosity and wonder dancing within her son’s eyes.
“Come here, sweetie,” she cooed, her hand lifting as an invitation for Cleo to come closer.
After a while of coaxing, Cleo finally reached out to Tommy, letting his father scoop him up into his arms. Marcus and Leigh stood close by, their usually tough exteriors noticeably softening. Leigh offered Tommy an affectionate pat on the back, and Marcus gave him a supportive nod.
Slowly, Tommy brought Cleo closer to Reena. Cleo’s face lit up with excitement at the sight of his baby sister.
Mrs. Hubbard stood by the foot of Reena’s bed, her face illuminated with pure delight. As Reena observed the old woman’s expression, a warmth spread through her heart. The way Mrs. Hubbard clasped her hands to her chest, tears glistening in her eyes, filled Reena with a profound sense of gratitude. It was as if they were sharing this precious moment together, united in their roles as mothers, both adoring their daughters with profound love and tenderness.
“Oh, dear…” she whispered, her voice quivering with emotion. “She’s so beautiful!”
“So, what does it feel to be a grand nanny now, old momma?” Leigh teased.
The old woman’s reflex was to spin around and give Leigh a playful smack on the arm, prompting him to yelp in mock pain. Despite the ache in her abdomen, Reena couldn’t suppress her giggle. She placed a hand on her forehead, and to her amusement, Tommy and Marcus joined in the laughter at their antics.
“You always take every chance to piss me off!” Mrs. Hubbard exclaimed, momentarily setting aside her joy at seeing Tamia. She friskily pinched Leigh’s arm, causing him to let out an exaggerated howl that made Tamia stir slightly in Reena’s arms.
Tamia’s tiny fingers curled and uncurled in her sleep. Reena’s heart skipped a beat as she watched her daughter’s eyelashes flutter, her eyes slowly opening. A soft, inquisitive sound escaped the baby’s lips, filling the room with her presence.
Mrs. Hubbard and Leigh continued their lighthearted banter, each blaming the other for the commotion that had roused the baby. Their hushed voices overlapped in a chorus of mock accusations until Tommy’s chuckle cut through the playful chaos. “Alright, you two,” he said, his tone gentle but with authority. “Enough of that. Let’s not wake my little one up completely, and my wife needs her rest…”
Reena’s eyes locked onto Tommy’s, affection and longing shining in his gaze. His words lingered between them, carrying a rush of emotions that remained unsaid. Her heart fluttered, and a soft, genuine smile curved her lips, mirroring the warmth she felt from what he said.
Mrs. Hubbard and Leigh exchanged mischievous grins before finally relenting. The old woman walked back to her spot while Leigh stood beside his brother, gripping the latter’s shoulder. “We had to be here for this,” Leigh said with a proud smile, his voice filled with genuine happiness. “You finally got a little you, Boss!”
Marcus nodded, his eyes reflecting a strong agreement. “Congratulations, Boss, Miss Reena.”
Moved by their words and the emotions in the room, Reena felt tears of gratitude welling up. Her gaze shifted from one face to another, taking in the sincerity in their expressions. “Thank you,” she whispered, barely withholding her emotions.
Mrs. Hubbard headed to the window, giving the blinds a gentle tug. Morning light spilled in bit by bit, filling the room with a soft, golden hue. It was dark when they headed to the hospital, the roads filled with colorful neon lights that blinked in the void, but now, a new day had come. The sunlight peered from the shadows, painting warmth over everything it touched.
It was so beautiful and peaceful as if the world was welcoming wholeheartedly her little angel. With Tamia in her arms and Cleo by her side, Reena felt a deep sense of completion. She lost a lot along the way and faced a lot of struggles and pain, but this moment was more than rewarding than any of the obstacles she braved.
Bidding a silent farewell, Marcus, Leigh, and Mrs. Hubbard exited the room, leaving her, her babies, and Tommy. The room seemed to wake up, basking in the gentle glow of a fresh day, creating a warm haven for her and her newborn. Wrapped in a cocoon of love, Reena held her daughter close, her heart swelling with exhausted joy.
Cleo leaned in to get a closer look at his baby sister, and Tamia’s delicate fingers twitched and then wrapped around Cleo’s small hand. His eyes widened in astonishment, and a smile of pure innocence spread across his face as he realized his sister was holding him. Reena and Tommy exchanged fond glances, then let out peals of soft laughter, amused by their son’s reaction. Tommy reached out and ruffled the top of Cleo’s head, tousling his hair into a playful but adorable look.
Nestling against the soft pillow, fatigue washed over Reena’s body. Her tired eyes followed Cleo’s movements as he chatted away in his endearing, babbled language that only he and Tamia could understand.
As she took a deep, contented breath, she felt Tommy slide near her. She turned to face him, finding his eyes gazing at her in awe. It felt just like the first time, when she brought Cleo into the world. It was Tommy who was beside her. Now, he still was.
Even without saying anything, Reena was able to understand what he meant. She nodded gently, and in a swift yet careful motion, Tommy draped an arm around her shoulders, snuggling himself and Cleo close to her while she cuddled with Tamia.
“Thank you for giving me Tamia,” he mumbled, his face buried at the crown of her head. “Thank you for giving me this chance…”
It could be something fleeting, but it could also last forever. Now, how long this bliss would last didn’t matter. Reena allowed herself to feel him, resting her head on Tommy’s chest. A while had passed, a path riddled with what-ifs, but though she expected to sense some kind of hurt, all Reena found was solace in his embrace. It seemed as though all past hurts and doubts had dissolved into nothingness, replaced by profound happiness and hope.
In his bosom, Reena closed her eyes, his shield grounding her amid the overwhelming feelings she didn’t want to get over with.
Notes:
I know it's hard to read scenes like this for some of you, so I hope I didn't make you that uncomfortable, and that the warnings at the beginning had somehow helped.
Thank you so much for reading <3
Chapter 75: The Surprise
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
REENA GASPED FOR air as she opened her eyes, finding herself curling on her knees on the mattress, her body entangled with the duvet. The room looked warm, rays of light penetrating through the window at her feet, but her whole body quivered uncontrollably. The images were barely recognizable, but she was sure she was chasing her breath as she plunged into the fiery waters.
A soft mewl caught her attention, pulling her back to reality. Forcing herself up as she squinted, Reena tried to shun the dream and focus. Her body still felt sore, and maybe, it wasn’t the dream that caused her to tremble but the fact that she was still trying to recover from childbirth.
Barely three weeks after she’d given birth to Tamia, her body seemed still unable to recuperate. Mornings had been difficult for her, fatigue creeping in after being awake the entire night, tending to her baby. Though Mrs. Hubbard had offered help to assist her in the wee hours, Reena insisted that she wanted to do it herself.
And now, she had a horrible dream. Briefly, Reena raised her hand and pressed it on her head, recalling the sensations that drowning and utter panic brought her.
He slipped from her fingers as the waves took her away, pushing her farther from him. The massive surf caused by incessant gales of the wind had shoved her deep down the waters. With futile attempts, Reena tried to shout for his name, but the water made it hard for her to stay afloat and breathe.
“Claude!”
Cold trickles of sweat flowed down from her head. With her trembling hand, she reached for the glass of water that lay on the bedside table, just beneath the lamp. She could barely even hold it. Slowly, she pressed the glass to her mouth, gulping as much water as she needed to quell her thirst and calm her nerves.
The door to her room suddenly opened, startling her in her spot. Mrs. Hubbard came in, a jolly smile painted on her lips. She approached the crib, leaning down to pick Tamia up.
“I heard this little angel making a sound,” the old woman gently spoke as she cooed the baby.
“Mrs. Hubbard,” Reena murmured. Her throat felt as if it was loaded with grains of sand despite drinking. “Let me take her–”
“You just woke up. I’ll carry her for a while. Go back to sleep if you like.”
Reena wasn’t sure if she needed one, and waking up from a nightmare made her not want to close her eyes anymore. A long time had passed since she had one, but she could feel it creeping underneath her skin like an old ghost emerging from her past.
Why would she even dream about that? And should she tell Tommy? Where was he anyway?
The house was quiet – too quiet, save for the sounds that Tamia made. Glancing around, she saw that her son wasn’t in the room with her, making her worry a bit.
“Where’s Cleo?”
Mrs. Hubbard swayed toward her spot. “Mr. Vercetti took him earlier. He told me to tell you not to worry about them.”
How could she not? And where would Tommy take her son? Where the hell would they go? Her chest almost burst with all the questions that plagued her mind, unable to ignore the lingering thoughts of fear. Sighing heavily, she lowered her faltering legs to the floor and stood.
“Where are you going?” Mrs. Hubbard stared at her bewilderingly.
“I’m checking them downstairs–”
“Oh, no...” Mrs. Hubbard gently touched the crook of her elbow and guided her back into the bed. “Mr. Vercetti told me that you must take a rest. Stay here. He’ll come soon.”
“Am I not allowed to leave now?” Reena griped, frantic as she still couldn’t get a grasp of her dream. Her insides were churning, her body felt weird, and her thighs strained as if she’d run a marathon, but the wave of agitation and apprehension in her chest was more compelling.
Mrs. Hubbard seemed to brace for a moment, but her shoulders lowered eventually and a beam appeared on her lips, casting Reena a gaze full of understanding. “Just relax, dear,” she pleaded softly. “Since it looks like you’ve already stretched, would you like to take Tamia now? I’m gonna make you some tea, alright?”
Reena’s shoulders dropped. A part of her wanted to rebel, but guilt swiftly overcame her as she realized she’d been coarse toward the wrong person. She bowed her head down and started to play with her fingers. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Hubbard. I didn’t mean to be rude...”
The old woman caressed her cheek. “It’s okay. Now, let me help you.”
Mrs. Hubbard placed a couple of pillows at her back, and Reena leaned against the headboard, perching into a comfortable position. The old woman pulled the duvet over her chilling legs, covering her puffy feet, and then Mrs. Hubbard carefully laid Tamia in her arms. The baby fussed, bringing a smile to Reena’s face.
“I’ll be right back,” Mrs. Hubbard said as she tucked her in, and then she walked out of the room and closed the door.
Reena gazed at her daughter. A few weeks with her but it felt like she’d known her forever. She couldn’t believe that she was now holding her delicate body after months of rearing her inside. Brushing her thumb on the girl’s soft cheek, she remembered how Tamia felt on her chest after she got her out. The sound of her voice – her cry – was tender, her form so small while she was pressed on her bosom, and her heartbeat felt just like her own, resonating in their chests in cadence. Reena already loved her even before she was born. Now that Tamia was with her, she couldn’t help but fall in love even harder.
Slowly, she lifted her baby and rubbed her nose on her cheek. It was the same feeling she had when Cleo came… the same joy, relief, and adoration. Remembering all the good things made her feel less worried about her dream. It was nothing but a memory that her mind would play.
Her present was better.
“I love you,” she whispered to her. “I love you so much.”
She let Tamia feel her warmth as Reena began to nurse her. Slowly, she swayed, humming the same tune she’d sung Cleo before. Tamia looked at her the entire time as if she was captivated by her voice, making Reena chuckle a bit.
“Hush, little baby, don’t say a word… Mama’s gonna buy you a mockingbird…”
Reena stroked her face tenderly. There was nothing else she felt at the moment but happiness. How could she be this lucky to bear and have such wonderful beings twice?
“Mama’s gonna buy you a diamond ring…”
The door creaked open, causing her to look up. At the doorway, Tommy appeared, peeking in slowly, a bright smile lighting up his face. In his hands, he carried a small tray bearing a steaming cup.
“Good morning,” he greeted. “I brought you your tea.”
Quickly, Reena managed to force a smile and reached for a cloth to cover her chest. “Thank you. I’m just feeding her.”
He came inside the room, placed the cup on the table, and sat at the foot of her bed. “You want a massage?”
“That would be great,” she responded sheepishly.
Tommy pulled back the duvet that had covered her legs, and after briskly rubbing his hands together to warm them, he delicately took hold of her feet, settling them onto his lap. His skilled fingers began to knead her soles and toes, applying a soothing pressure that seemed to dissolve the ache. The sensation was incredibly relaxing, precisely what she needed right now.
“You feelin’ better?” he asked, pinching the tips of her toes.
“Yeah, thank you,” she replied. Her legs relaxed a bit, although shame started to grow in her stomach. “Tommy, where’s Cleo?”
“He’s waiting for you downstairs.”
Tamia released her grip on her breast, and almost instantly, the little girl began to fuss and wiggle. Tommy let go of her feet and assisted in adjusting her blouse.
“Can we go to him?” Reena implored, lowering her feet to the floor once more.
“Of course. I’ll help you up...”
Tommy assisted her as she stood, wrapping a robe around her shoulders. Her legs were a bit unsteady as she took the first steps, so Tommy draped an arm on her back to hold her. The soft carpet tickled her feet as they moved slowly, the hall stretching longer than ever. Finally, they reached the landing that overlooked the living room, and there, at the bottom of the steps, Reena found a group of people waiting, big smiles spread on their faces.
“Surprise!”
In her tracks, she stopped, staring at the people below in disbelief. Her friends… all of them were complete and present. 8-Ball was carrying Cleo, Asuka and Maria were standing side by side, and Pops was holding his cap to his chest. Mrs. Hubbard stood behind them, looking up at her with an exhilarated gaze.
“You’re all here…” she gasped.
Her legs trembled more, not of exhaustion or pain but of the sudden rush of joy in her veins. While Tommy guided her, she descended the steps slowly, fighting back the tears that threatened to spill. She felt like a mess in her loose dress and bedroom robe, but the overwhelming emotions drowned out any concern about her appearance.
“Did you bring them here?” she asked, tears welling in her eyes as she held Tamia tighter.
“I figured you wanna see them,” Tommy said, satisfaction palpable in his voice. “We prepared a small celebration for you, to make up for the one I missed.”
How could he be this patient? Tommy held her arms, aiding her descent with unwavering support, matching her pace no matter how sluggish. In a daze, Reena gazed at her friends, her face contorting with high spirits. Despite her efforts to halt the tears, a couple of drops managed to roll down her cheeks.
Colorful balloons floated across the ceiling in a cheerful jumble, casting vibrant splashes of hue around the room. A long table off to the side held a tempting spread of treats – an assortment of dishes, candy cups brimming with sugary delights, and a three-tiered round vanilla cake that looked almost too good to eat. The decorations were a burst of happiness, and Reena couldn’t believe she hadn’t heard a peep while she was upstairs, lost in her own world.
8-Ball let Cleo down, and the boy immediately rushed to Tommy. Tommy stooped down to carry the boy, heaving him up to the chest. “Are you ready, bud?” he asked.
Cleo pointed at the counter, his eyes lighting up in wonder. “Papa, gifts!”
“Yeah, that’s right, gifts!”
Mrs. Hubbard lit the candle on the birthday cake, casting a warm glow. In unison, they sang the birthday song, their hands clapping and feet rhythmically thumping the floor, creating a joyful cacophony. Despite a touch of weariness, Reena joined in, her voice blending with the varied tones around her. Even Cleo contributed his own version of singing, the lyrics a delightful rumble of adorable babbling.
“Happy Birthday, Tamia!”
Tommy approached the cake, whispering in the boy’s ear. Encouraged by Tommy’s words, Cleo leaned in and huffed, attempting to blow out the candle for his sister. His efforts were both endearing and unsuccessful, drawing chuckles from everyone as he persistently tried to extinguish the flame. On his third try, Tommy gently assisted him, and when the candle finally went out, the room erupted into cheers and applause.
Everywhere buzzed with joy, an atmosphere that wrapped around them like a warm embrace. Laughter and conversations flowed freely, accompanied by the delightful aroma of food and the sugary scent of the cake. The villa, usually calm and serene, had transformed into a lively hub of celebration, echoing with the happiness of those who had gathered to mark Tamia’s arrival in their lives.
Reena’s heart swelled with gratitude. The sight of her loved ones, their genuine smiles and shared moments, brought a sense of comfort that eased her tiredness. Though fatigue lingered, the sheer happiness of this day renewed her spirits. As she watched Cleo’s gleeful interactions with the important people in her life and Tamia peacefully slumbered in her arms, Reena felt an overwhelming contentment. There was so much for everyone to relish and share with each other – food, drinks, memories, and waves of laughter.
8-Ball rose from the couch, casting Reena an excited glance.
“I got something for the champ,” he declared. He went out quickly, and when he returned, a big smile was plastered on his face. Marcus and Leigh were carrying a massive box that they set on the floor and unwrapped before all of them.
“Car!” Cleo cried out, and even Reena was surprised by its size.
It was a mini-car that Cleo himself could fit in. Her son was so overjoyed that he immediately dropped his cookies and hopped in the vehicle, making engine sounds while pretending to steer the wheel.
8-Ball approached and showed him the pedal and the clutch, causing the car to move forward, astonishing the little boy even more.
“He can drive it around,” 8-Ball claimed proudly, standing up as he put his hands on his waist. “I assembled that. Battery-operated, you can now teach this li’l man to drive.”
Reena was astounded by the kind of effort 8-Ball had given. “You got Cleo a car…” she gasped, her eyes gaping wide as a surprised smile laced her lips.
With 8-Ball’s help, Cleo navigated with the controls. He was so overjoyed that when he pressed a foot on the pedal, the mini-car surged forward and crashed into the table’s leg. All of them stood in shock; Reena wanted to, but holding Tamia forbade her to do so.
Cleo cackled, finding his crash amusing. In no time, all of them breathed a sigh of relief, laughing along with the little boy in his first accident.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t know he’d do that…” 8-Ball commented nervously.
“It’s okay,” Tommy interjected, helping Cleo get out of the car. “He needs some driving lessons anyway!”
Reena gave 8-Ball a gratifying glance, and he returned her gaze with a welcoming smile.
Asuka and Maria took their presents from the counter, letting Cleo open them himself. One box contained Kimonos, both baby and toddler sizes, and a miniature plastic katana. Mrs. Hubbard helped in putting the costume on Cleo, and Asuka taught him to hold the katana to pose for a picture. Yet, Cleo kept on running around and wielding his fake sword at others, particularly at Tommy. Tommy pretended to run around and be chased, even stumbling on the floor as if he’d been defeated, and Cleo was very happy about it. Then, he charged at 8-Ball.
“You ain’t killin’ me like that!” 8-Ball exclaimed, causing Reena to laugh at his folly.
“Look at how he holds the sword. I think he’s gonna be a great mercenary like his fa–”
Asuka’s swift hand smacked Maria’s arm, causing her to howl and stop. She held her arm and pouted, muttering a silent sorry as she looked back and forth between Reena and Asuka.
“I mean, Kenji!” she cried out, trying to save herself from embarrassment.
Tommy looked at Reena, his gaze familiar. She pressed her lips together in a subtle way, confirming to him that she was fine. As Asuka and Maria remained bickering, Earnest Kelly came forward and presented his generous gift – a large coloring book.
“Sonny said you’re teaching Cleo to make art, so I thought of printing this for him.”
Reena’s brows creased in appreciation. “Thank you, Pops, you don’t have to do that…”
As Earnest Kelly gave the coloring book to Cleo, her son eagerly sprawled the pages across the floor, captivated by the bold outlines of the pictures. He was so enthusiastic about flipping through the book that he nearly tore a few pages in his haste. Half reluctantly, Reena had to intervene, rescuing the coloring book from imminent destruction.
“Okay, that’s enough,” she said, but Cleo started to fuss and whine. His protests were short-lived, however, as Tommy swooped in to scoop him up, quickly calming him with a cup of candies. The distraction worked like a charm, and with the assistance of 8-Ball and Earnest Kelly, Cleo’s attention was soon redirected to other stuff.
“We’ll take care of him,” Earnest Kelly assured her, patting a gentle hand on her shoulder. “Go relax with the girls.”
Asuka took her chance. She unraveled thick, wool blankets and coats in front of Reena and Tamia.
“They’re beautiful!” Reena cried out as she spread the objects one by one. She felt the fabric in her hands, soft and soothing, warm when cold and cold when warm. She pressed it on her face, feeling its comforting touch, and with a smile, she thanked Asuka, who bowed at her slowly as if to say she was welcome.
“Those are of high quality, direct from Japan,” Asuka said. “The sheets can help you and Tamia get a good night’s sleep, and the coats are perfect to be worn at night or during cold weather.”
“I have a better gift!” Maria bragged while she pushed Asuka aside and squeezed herself between them. Reena expected that it would be an accessory, a dress, or a gift card to a spa, but to her surprise, Maria gave her a book bundle wrapped in a red ribbon. The top one showed a woman and a baby’s silhouette in a pink outline, and the title “A Complete Guide to Motherhood” was written at the center. Astounded, she looked at Maria with a slightly gaping mouth, but instead of a proud look, Maria stared back at her with a snicker.
“This is incredible,” she said, ignoring Maria’s cheekiness. However, when she checked the second book, she let out a surprised yelp. Quickly hiding it behind the first book, her cheeks burned, and she pinched Maria on the arm, trying to hide her embarrassment.
“Ouch!” Maria rubbed the spot she pinched, but the snicker didn’t leave her mouth. “Trust me, Reena, you’re gonna need that!”
“Stop it! I just gave birth!” Despite the shame, she chortled, giggling as she shoved Maria once again, making Asuka curious.
“What’s going on with you two?”
“I just gave Reena a book about se–”
Reena cupped her hand over Maria’s mouth, restraining her from telling Asuka what the second book was about. “I’m gonna keep it because it’s your gift, but I’m not gonna use it!”
Asuka just stared at them with a confused gaze.
“Miss Latore,” Mrs. Hubbard interrupted as she likewise giggled. “I saw that! I think Reena would find it handy soon!”
Shame, thrill, and a dull pain grew in her stomach as Reena consistently denied her intention to use the book. But maybe sometime in the future, she should peek at it. Alone.
Tommy and Earnest Kelly walked back toward them, leaving Cleo with 8-Ball, and Reena was thankful she’d already hidden the gift. Maria still glanced at her teasingly, then she left with Asuka to join 8-Ball. To cover her humiliation mixed with excitement, she urged Mrs. Hubbard to let her hold Tamia. The old woman obliged and grabbed the books for her, telling her that she’d be keeping them in her room for her perusal.
Earnest Kelly stooped down, reaching for Tamia’s hand. His eyes squinted, seemingly trying to see clearly as he focused on the baby’s face. “This girl looks like a small female version of you, sonny,” he commented as the baby grasped his finger. “And strong too!”
“Do you think she looks like Tommy, Pops?” Reena asked, hoping that he’d at least say Tamia had a similarity with her too.
“Yeah, more from him than you. That’s just fair. Your boy doesn’t look like him at all.”
Reena stilled, and upon looking up at Tommy, he was also palpably stunned. “He’d look like me one day, you’ll see…” Tommy said, draping an arm over Earnest Kelly’s shoulders.
“Ah, I must be dead by then!”
Cleo dashed toward Reena, still in his Kimono and the fake katana, though before he reached his mother, he dropped his weapon to the floor. He peered at Tamia and pecked on her cheeks, saying “Love you” before he ran away again, meeting Mrs. Hubbard at the doorway.
Tommy settled into a seat, casually draping an arm over the backrest as if he were being cautious about invading her space. A strange impulse nagged at her, almost urging her to tell him it was fine to get closer if he wanted. But before she could act on it, Asuka and 8-Ball appeared, breaking her train of thought and steering her attention in a different direction.
“Have the two of you decided when you’ll be going to Las Venturas?” Asuka inquired.
“Are you still pushin’ for it?” 8-Ball asked, showing his utter disinclination to the idea.
“We haven’t talked about it yet. Reena needs to recover–”
“Why not just stay here?” 8-Ball inquired again, his sharp glare falling on Tommy.
Her husband seemed to ignore every subtle yet hostile act that 8-Ball showed, and Reena knew she needed to say something. “Going there was both our decision,” she interposed, determined to put an end to the question. “Everything’s been set. All we need’s to prepare our personal things.”
Since then, although 8-Ball looked like he wasn’t letting go, their conversation veered to the casino’s completion. It was Reena’s first time learning that Tommy and Asuka had fostered a partnership in Vice Point. Asuka, yet calm, seemed delighted to share with her the details. Reena was happy for her, but 8-Ball didn’t seem so pleased.
“So, when’s this gonna be?” 8-Ball probed, his face churning.
“In two months or so, Tommy and I will be launching for the opening.” Asuka glanced at her with a proud smile. “The oyabun is pleased to know I am making progress in the South. He told me, I’m the first Yakuza to be able to do so.”
“I’m sure the casino will do great in Vice Point,” Tommy interjected, looking back and forth between her and Asuka, and casually, at 8-Ball. “We’ll be making a lot of money in this…” He lifted his hand with a cup of juice, and Asuka raised hers likewise.
While everyone else had become busy with their own things, Tommy went to the table and got himself some food. Reena gave Tamia to Maria upon the latter’s request, and then she went to Tommy, gently touching his back.
Tommy filled his plate, but instead, he gave it to her and took the empty one she was holding. “Thank you for vouching for me earlier,” he said.
“I didn’t vouch for you,” she denied, looking up at him. “It’s really our plan, isn’t it?”
“We’re not backing out?”
“No, we’re not. I like that house, and I like to be there… with you.”
His breath was expelled from his guts, a relieved sigh that softened the look on his face. His eyebrows creased a bit, though his eyes spoke of joy. Letting out a chuckle as he smacked his lips, he turned back to the food and waved his hand to the cake.
“Would you like me to get you a slice?”
“If it’s okay?”
“Very okay,” he whispered, leaning down for a kiss on the top of her head.
The day went in a blur, hours passing by in the stupor of celebration. When the evening was nigh, Tommy brought Cleo with him to take Earnest Kelly home, but he told Asuka to wait for them to come back before they left. As 8-Ball and Asuka packed their things, Reena and Maria stood side-by-side, the latter still carrying Tamia. It was her first time holding a baby that small, she confessed, and though she was very excited, she couldn’t help but feel nervous whenever Tamia wriggled or cooed.
As she transferred the baby back to Reena’s arms, Maria took a deep, nervous breath. “Can’t believe you already had two!”
“Neither can I,” Reena responded with a soft chuckle while she swaddled Tamia with the furry cloth from Asuka. “I’m just lucky that I don’t have to take care of them alone.”
“That’s true!” Maria agreed, pulling out a pack of chewing gum and popping a film in her mouth. “I never wanted to have kids. Good thing your father couldn’t make me pregnant anymore when we married.”
Reena smiled to herself. She loved it whenever Maria remarked something about Salvatore, positive or not. She didn’t know that much about him, but Maria’s stories would always linger in her mind.
“All I know is that you’re good on your own,” she whispered to Maria.
“You couldn’t be more right about that. I’m just happy to be here! Seeing your babies… I can’t even imagine what would it look like if you were going to prison just to celebrate with him, you know?!”
“Why would I go to prison to celebrate, Maria?”
Maria’s face suddenly turned white as if blood had been drained from her head. “D-Did I s-say that?!” she stuttered, clearly aghast by the words that came out of her mouth. “Oh, silly me, Reena, I-I mean, what if you go to jail?” She chuckled nervously. “I-I’ll help Asuka, she’s gonna be mad at me for just standing here!”
“Wait, what do you mean–”
Maria scurried toward Asuka, standing stiffly beside her. Asuka seemed confused about what she was doing there, looking back at Reena as if motioning Maria to get back to her, but Maria just shook her head. More than the abrupt change in her movements, Reena was even more bewildered by what she said.
Celebrate in prison with him? With who? Cleo?
The Cheetah arrived and parked in the garage, and Tommy and Cleo got out of it. 8-Ball scooped the boy in his arms and hugged him tightly, saying goodbye as if he didn’t want to let him go. Tommy gave Asuka and Maria a firm nod before he took Cleo back and glanced at her.
Reena walked out a few steps into the pool garden and waved goodbye at the three, smiling sweetly at them, but her eyes were fixed on Maria. She couldn’t understand what Maria meant, but their time had run out, and she didn’t have the chance to probe anymore as she watched them get in the car and drive out of the villa.
“You alright?” Tommy asked. “They’re going back here in a few months.”
Her eyes followed in the direction where their car went, her mind still thinking about what Maria said. “That would be… lovely…”
“We’ve made some arrangements,” he said, touching the arch of her spine. “Let’s get inside. It’s getting cold.”
Reena nodded, smiling at Tommy and the little boy, the latter looking sleepy on his shoulder. With her best, she tried to shun the oddity that Maria left her feeling, keeping Tamia close to her bosom for a snuggle…
But it wasn’t easy.
Notes:
Why do you think Maria said that?
Thank you so much for reading! <3
Chapter 76: Love is in the Air
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
THE PAGES OF the coloring book were almost running out, leaving Cleo with merely a couple more to draw and paint on. Yet, he still clasped the crayon tightly, making random figures on the surface. Tommy watched the boy in amusement. In the beginning, Cleo let Mrs. Hubbard guide his hand, but then he began to pull against the old woman’s direction.
“Cleo’s been a handful lately,” Mrs. Hubbard said with a sigh. “He doesn’t want to follow me anymore, and sometimes, even Reena!”
Tommy shook his head and had a little chuckle. He crawled up to Cleo, peeking over his shoulder, and watched as the boy continued coloring, this time using a blue crayon.
“Papa wants to join,” Tommy said while lying flat on his belly. He grabbed a yellow crayon and added a new color to the picture. Cleo reached for another Crayola, and Tommy shuffled over, taking it from Cleo’s hand. “Bud, don’t put that damn crayon in your mouth…” he warned, although Cleo was fast enough anyway.
He had a hard time getting the bits of wax out of his teeth, and Mrs. Hubbard had to give him a hand. Exhaling softly, Tommy shot a glance up to the wall clock at the top of the window. It read ten minutes past two.
For two months, Tommy had been planning and waiting for this day to come. He bought the concert tickets in advance, almost immediately after Kent Paul told him about the tour. He knew and he was certain Reena would love it, and after all those days and nights she spent taking great care of their child, she deserved an amazing treat.
Besides, Tommy wanted to make it up with her, and though Reena showed no signs of resentment, he was aware that what he was doing still wasn’t enough. If he wanted her back, if he wanted them to be the way they were before, and if he wanted to show her how much she meant to him, then, he had to pay the price no matter at what expense.
“Mr. Vercetti,” Mrs. Hubbard called out. “Aren’t you gonna go to Reena yet? I don’t hear Tamia anymore.”
She was right. The old woman knew about his plan, and her encouragement was rather helpful, but it didn’t lessen the fear he was feeling in his chest. With a nervous sigh, Tommy stood and left Cleo’s room, patting Mrs. Hubbard’s shoulder as he passed her by.
As Tommy approached Reena’s room, he noticed the door was slightly ajar. A warm glow seeped through the opening, casting a cozy light onto the hallway. Lavender and vanilla scents greeted him, wrapping him in a soothing embrace. The room itself felt like a haven of comfort, with soft blankets tossed casually on the bed and a few well-loved books resting on the nightstand. The walls were adorned with Cleo and Tamia’s pictures, creating a collage of memories, and on the bedside table was a small frame.
Tommy loved seeing that every time he went to her room. It was their picture, where her head was leaning on his shoulder and he was kissing the top of her head. It was Leigh who insisted on capturing that moment after they renewed their vows, its sight putting a smile on his lips.
Reena had her back turned to him, holding a book in her left hand as she absentmindedly swayed the crib. Even though he had entered her room, she remained unaware of his presence. He drew closer, being cautious not to catch her off guard, and gently placed a hand on her shoulder. Despite his careful approach, she still startled, swiftly glancing over her shoulder.
“Tommy!” she yelped, shutting the book with a snap in her hand.
“Are you alright?”
Blushing, her cheeks took on a rosy hue. “I-I’m fine. Sorry, I didn’t notice you were there.”
“You look so serious,” he commented, trying to peer at the book she was holding. “What are you reading?”
“Just… Maria’s gift,” she said, tossing it into the drawer in a swift motion. “Can I do anything for you?”
His curiosity piqued, Tommy managed a small smile and lightly brushed her elbow. “Got any plans for later?”
She seemed almost hesitant to meet his gaze directly. “Nothing specific. Just spending time with the kids. You?”
“Nothing on my plate either,” he replied, moving closer to her side. “How about we break away later? Mrs. Hubbard can handle the kids. Just you and me.”
There was a flicker in her eyes, a momentary gleam that caught Tommy’s attention. “Sure,” she responded, her voice carrying a swift decision.
Tommy looked at Tamia, seeing his daughter peacefully asleep in the crib. “Is it okay if we leave in an hour?”
Reena nodded, her teeth sinking into her lower lip, turning it red. “I’ll get ready. Can you watch Tamia for me?”
“Of course,” he said and leaned closer, planting a kiss on her forehead. “Take your time.” He took over the crib and gently swayed it while Tamia slept. He hummed a lullaby just like Reena did, making sure that his voice and tune were tender to keep his daughter deep into her slumber.
Months passed by so quickly. Tommy couldn’t imagine what it would’ve been like if Reena hadn’t opened her doors to him. They still lived separately, but no matter, he’d wake up and drive to the villa early every single day just to whisper good morning in her ear and kiss her on the cheek. Whenever they were together, he’d relieve her of all childcare, though the hard-headed in her always refused. Recently, he’d been working more, getting ready with Asuka and her associates as the opening of Casino Royale came close, but Tommy made sure that whatever business he was in wouldn’t give Reena a room of doubt.
Sometimes, Tommy would notice that she was staring at nowhere, seemingly in deep thought. He wondered if she was still thinking about that day, and if she was still considering ending their agreement, but whenever he remembered her saying that they’d still go to Las Venturas, Tommy knew he had to pull his shit together and man up.
He was determined to gain her trust once more.
Reena shuffled back and forth, getting her clothes and stuff ready. She’d thrown Tommy a contrite glance now and then, but he assured her with a smile that she didn’t need to worry about him taking care of their daughter.
“Go on, I can handle this…”
“I’ll be quick, I promise…”
Once Reena left the room to take a shower, his attention was drawn once more to their picture. He picked up the frame, held it closely, and observed the bright smile that laced her lips. Tommy found himself smiling, and as he placed the picture frame back in its spot, his eyes fell on the drawer where she tossed the book earlier. Curiosity crept in as he wondered what it was about that prompted her to hide it from his sight. He looked at the door, and upon finding no one, he slowly went near the table and pulled the drawer open, an attempt to quell his curiosity.
It didn’t fail to surprise him. Maria’s gift, that was what she said. Tommy took the book and found the cover page very simple yet clear. A mischievous smile made its way to his mouth as he flipped the pages, forgetting to sway the crib at all. Each chapter had a trivial title, but the contents were all explicit, ranging from a simple kissing technique to all the positions and kinks he hadn’t tried before. His chest burned at every turn, his eyes glaring over the texts, wondering what had gotten to Reena’s mind. Not that he was mad; in fact, he was astounded, unable to explain the shock he felt at his discovery.
Tommy was so lost in his little world, imagining vividly the texts inscribed come to life, he and Reena doing things they’d never done before when, all of a sudden, Tamia burst into a high-pitched cry. In a panic, he threw the book back into the drawer and shut it close, then resumed pushing the crib. But Tamia’s cry didn’t waver, forcing him to pick her up and dance her in his arms.
Reena quickly returned, her eyes carrying an evident concern as she hurried in. Her hair was still damp, and she had draped a bathrobe around herself. In a rush, she moved toward him, reaching out for Tamia. The baby responded with coos as Reena took her into her embrace. Inadvertently, Reena ended up quite close – her skin slightly cool from the dampness, and her hair carried an enticing fragrance.
Tommy’s gaze darted between her beautiful eyes and pinkish lips that ignited his imagination, perhaps a bit more vividly than he intended.
“I’ll give her to Mrs. Hubbard,” she said, staring at him naively, unaware of the thoughts he was having about her. She touched his arm and squeezed it gently. “You can wait for me downstairs.”
That sent an electrifying sensation throughout his body, urging him to briefly stiffen in his spot. When Reena looked at him once more, Tommy forced himself to smile and to take a step out of his trance, barely shunning away his intrusive thoughts.
He sank into the couch, leaning forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he clasped his hands together. Tommy closed his eyes, chuckling at himself in disbelief. He realized that no one could ever make him feel this way except his wife, even in the slightest things she did. She didn’t even have to touch him, to force him with a kiss, or to whisper sweet nothings to his ear. All she needed to do was to stand there, and everything inside him would wake up.
It didn’t take long for Reena to prepare. She descended the stairs in a classy orange sleeveless blouse, its soft fabric gently embracing her wonderful body. Her pants, adorned with a subtle floral pattern, accentuated her figure in a way that Tommy couldn’t take his eyes off her. In her arm, she held a coat and a small purse, complementing the sandals she chose to wear.
Tommy rose from his seat as if he was welcoming his date for the very first time. “You look perfect,” he muttered, her simplicity captivating his heart.
A sheepish smile graced her lovely face. “Stop it,” she said, bowing down and biting her lip. “Let’s go?”
They embarked on the drive to V-Rock Stadium, and anticipation seemed to charge the air inside the car. The engine’s purr was joined by the occasional lull of the radio playing their favorite tunes, yet the mounting tension was palpable. Tommy couldn’t help but let his imagination wander to the evenings before, thoughts veering into scenarios he knew he shouldn’t entertain.
As they neared the stadium, the line of people stretched like a lively serpent, weaving with excitement and energy. A colossal poster of the Publicity Tour dominated the landscape, Love Fist’s vibrant figures almost leaping out of the paper.
Tommy glanced at Reena, anticipation gripping him as he watched her gaze shift toward the spectacle unfolding before them.
Reena’s eyes widened, her initial confusion giving way to realization. The pieces of the puzzle were coming together, and Tommy’s surprise was becoming vividly clear. As recognition danced in her eyes, her features shifted from astonishment to sheer delight.
“Don’t you dare kid me,” she warned, exhilaration teeming in her eyes.
With a grin, Tommy retrieved the VIP admission tickets from his pocket, holding them up like a treasure unearthed. He couldn’t help but feel a surge of pride as her excitement mingled with his.
She clutched the tickets with a mixture of awe and eagerness, her gaze flickering between the tickets and Tommy. “Oh, my God!” she exclaimed, but words seemed inadequate to express what she truly felt.
Tommy offered an elbow for her to hold as they walked toward the long line. She clung to him, just like how she did in Vice Point Langer, looking all around her excitedly.
“I can’t believe I’m gonna see them in person!” she said in a whisper, her fingers digging into his muscle.
The VIP entrance allowed them to get in without having to wait in line, making Reena’s excitement more apparent. As soon as they entered, Tommy’s gaze swept across the VIP concert seats, a world away from the ordinary crowd. The plush chairs offered a more intimate vantage point, each seat cocooned in comfort and luxury. Soft lighting cast a warm glow, creating an atmosphere that felt exclusive, almost otherworldly. As his eyes settled on Reena, he noticed the way her eyes sparkled in excitement and wonder, taking in the details of their proximity to the stage. Her fingers grazed the armrest, her smile reflecting both gratitude and amazement.
A group of individuals readied their musical instruments on the platform – a guitar, a bass, and a drum set, each with its own dedicated microphone. In the lull before the performance, a server set two glasses, brimming with ice cubes, on their table. Reena lifted her gaze to him, her smile a silent expression of gratitude. Tommy reached for the beer bottle, deftly uncapping it, and proceeded to pour the drink into their cooling glasses.
“Complimentary drinks,” he said. “They’ll serve the food later.”
But the other details seemed to elude Reena’s attention, her focus entirely captured by the stage. Tommy found amusement in how absorbed she was, recognizing that while everything else mattered little to her, she was the one who mattered to him. His Reena – his distraction – never changed. She was still as distracting as she was the very first time he laid his eyes on her.
When the setup was done, the lights dimmed a little, and a burst of red flames suddenly erupted on the stage, igniting the cheer from the crowd and the fire in Reena’s eyes.
“Hol’up, everybody!”
A holler erupted from the back, grabbing everyone’s attention. A group of men with wild, curly hair burst onto the stage, causing a wave of excited screams and cheers from the crowd. Jezz and Willy rocked skin-tight black pants – Jezz sported a red bandana around his forehead and black lipstick, while Willy showed off skull and web tattoos on his left arm. Percy strutted in a daring red crop top and hipster pants that almost bared his pelvic bones, his eyelids adorned with striking blue eyeshadow. Dick stood out with his vibrant orange hair, rocking an Argentinian football shirt and a kilt, letting his unique style shine.
“That’s what we’re talkin’ about!” Jezz lifted his arms, waving them up and down, while the people bellowed and screamed with every beat of his hand.
In a bolt, Reena jerked up from her seat, joining the crowd’s uproar. Tommy stood beside her and tilted on the fence as well, watching his wife in awe.
“Yo, yo, well, uhm, pals,” Jezz called out once again as he almost lapped the microphone in front of him, holding it up to his mouth. “Ain’t we got a gig to go to?! A racket to make?! Groupies to abuse?!”
The people squealed with insurmountable exhilaration. Reena too, seemingly heaving all the voices she got in her throat as the band played their first song – Fist Fury.
“I love you, Jezz Torrent!” she shrieked, her voice cracking as she jumped on her spot.
With drumsticks soaring through the air, Dick skillfully snatched them mid-flight and slammed them down onto the toms and cymbals. The result was a riotous cacophony that sent the crowd into a frenzy of excitement. “If we’re all going to die, let’s get pissed!” he roared, his words igniting a wild enthusiasm among the audience.
Reena screamed at the top of her lungs, getting lost in the vibrant groove of the crowd as they sang along with the band. She didn’t seem to mind if her singing was a bit off, and Tommy reveled in watching her let loose like this.
Percy and Willy locked eyes, their fingers dancing skillfully across the strings of their instruments, seamlessly transitioning from one note to the next, melding their sound with Dick’s percussive rhythm. The stadium was awash in a cascade of vivid lights, illuminating the eager crowd congregating at the stage, all vying for a closer glimpse of the legendary heavy metal band. Each time Jezz let out a growl, the crowd responded in kind, a collective symphony of fierce echoes that even Tommy couldn’t resist. His head bobbed instinctively to the rhythm, Reena at his side enthusiastically singing along with the band and the fervent audience.
After ripping through a couple of their renowned tracks, Jezz Torrent’s hand rose, a gesture that seemed to ripple through the crowd, hushing the fervor momentarily. “Okay, okay pals! Tommy my man, where are you?” he playfully called out, his gaze sweeping across the club as if he were in a daze.
From the stage, a spotlight darted across the audience, its trajectory ending in a swift motion as it settled upon Reena and Tommy’s spot. Caught off guard, Reena’s expression revealed her surprise as the radiant beam centered on them. She instinctively raised an arm to shield her eyes from the dazzling glow, while Tommy squinted against the brilliance, responding with a wave of his hand in acknowledgment.
“There you are! So, Tommy, man, nice one. Rock and roll, man!”
Reena leaned toward him. “What’s he saying?”
“So, so, here’s the stuff, guys. Tommy wants to tell the whole world how much he loves his lovely wife…”
Jezz Torrent waved a hand toward Reena, causing a surge of cheers and whistles from the people palpably touched by the message. Tommy saluted with a cheeky smile, enjoying the attention they were getting from everyone.
“Aye, man! Keep the fire burnin’! You know what I’m saying? Nice one! This next song is for you!”
As Love Fist played their last song, Reena remained standing, but she was no longer staring at the performance. She looked at Tommy, her eyes filled with joy and gratitude, and Tommy gazed back at her as his heart nearly burst out.
“Thank you,” she muttered, reaching out for his hand to hold.
Tommy embraced her from behind, resting his chin on her right shoulder. She beamed, tilted her head to the opposite side, and sang with him as they swayed slowly along with the song, regardless of how heavy the music was.
“I love you,” he whispered, the lights dimming in unison. “Very much.”
As a smile laced her lips, Reena leaned and kissed his cheek. It was warm, so warm that he couldn’t stop himself from turning to face her. He was afraid that she’d draw, but he was utterly surprised when she didn’t. Her kiss was soft and endearing, making every fiber in him melt. His breath flared against her as she closed her eyes, smiled, and parted her mouth to taste him further. With their bodies pressed against each other, Tommy reveled in his reality.
Finally, she let him kiss her again.
In the middle of the song. In the middle of the crowd.
There was no doubt at all. She loved him, and he loved her.
Notes:
This is an implied reference to the Publicity Tour with some of the lines from the band Love Fist (GTA Vice City).
Thank you so much for reading! <3
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Chapter 77: Whispers of the Night
Chapter Text
THE SUN DIPPED below the skyline, casting a warm, golden glow across the horizon. Tommy led Reena down a winding path that eventually opened up to a stunning panorama of the seaside. The gentle waves of the ocean rhythmically kissed the shore, their soothing sounds weaving a romantic melody in the air. The restaurant, nestled right at the edge of the water, beckoned with its enchanting charm.
Reena’s eyes gaped in wonder as they swept across the colorful lights that were hung and suspended on the palm trees all around. “This is beautiful…” she whispered, her luscious lips parted in awe.
Twinkling fairy lights adorned the perimeter of the open-air dining area, casting a soft and magical illumination. The tables, draped in pristine white linen, were elegantly set with sparkling glassware and delicate candle holders. Each table was strategically positioned to provide an uninterrupted view of the sea, allowing couples to bask in the beauty of the natural spectacle before them.
“I thought it’s nice to have dinner after watching a concert,” Tommy said, glancing at Reena with a dreamy gaze.
The scent of saltwater mingled with the fragrance of freshly cooked delicacies, carried by the gentle breeze that tousled Reena’s hair. Wooden pergolas adorned with vibrant flowers and ivy vines formed intimate alcoves, offering a sense of privacy while maintaining a connection to the surroundings. Overhead, a canopy of stars began to twinkle, their brilliance mirrored in the shimmering waters.
“Welcome, Mr. and Mrs. Vercetti,” a staff with an earpiece and a wire connected to his shirt said, waving a hand toward the seats. “This way.”
Tommy gently took her hand as they sauntered around the fence, heading to a table with a RESERVED sign right at the edge, its position affording them a front-row seat to the tranquil expanse of the ocean. The gentle lull of the waves created a harmonious sound, punctuated by the occasional laughter of other diners and the soothing tunes of a live acoustic guitarist playing in a corner. He pulled a chair and let her sit, making sure she was comfortable in her position before he settled across from her.
A waiter, impeccably dressed, approached with a warm smile and handed them menus adorned with intricate designs.
“Good evening. I’m Gregorio, and I’ll be your personal waiter today. May I present to you our main course tonight…”
The offerings boasted a fusion of local flavors and international delights, as promising as the mesmerizing surroundings.
They waited, and Tommy found himself captivated not only by the picturesque view but also by the sparkle in his wife’s eyes. Her excitement and joy were palpable. The gentle ebb and flow of the sea seemed to echo the rhythm of his heartbeat.
“What are you looking at?” she asked, peering at him sheepishly as she spread the napkin on her lap.
“A magnificent view,” he murmured, and then a cheeky smile found its way to his lips.
The food arrived, and with each unveiling dish, Reena’s eyes widened in awe, her gasps and hums of delight a symphony of appreciation. From the vibrant seafood paella to the succulent lobster and the delicate chocolate fondue, her enchantment unmistakably grew. The candlelit ambiance of the seaside restaurant was perfect, making the evening a wonderful moment for them to share a romantic evening together.
Everything was excellent, to say the least, and Reena enjoyed it too, saying that the meals were scrumptious. However, Tommy almost couldn’t eat as he watched her every move, and she looked back at him and smiled widely while tucking her hair behind her ear. On the table, he reached out for her hand. Reena took his hand too, and they held each other throughout the dinner.
As the decadent chocolate mousse dessert adorned with edible flowers was placed before them, Tommy held the wine glass and smiled. Their eyes met, reflecting the warm, flickering glow of candlelight. Reena took her wine glass as well, and as their glasses touched, a delicate chime resonated, like a melodious that touched Tommy’s heart.
The night was still young, vibrant and colorful lights flickering on the horizon. As they drove back to Vice Point, Tommy found himself smiling at the things Reena was blurting out, telling him how much she enjoyed the concert. In return, he commented about how he was amazed by the way she sang, and Reena smacked his arm for teasing her, urging a peal of laughter to escape his mouth.
“Hey, I’m telling you the truth!” he retorted, but he couldn’t stop the chuckle from flowing. “No matter what, I like your singing voice–”
“Stop it!” she begged, pinching his arm. Tommy howled, making her giggle even more. “I know I don’t have a great voice, you don’t need to slap that on my face!”
Tommy cast her a playful glance, making sure she’d see the snicker on his mouth. “Whether you’re singing to Love Fist songs or reading sex books, I don’t mind.”
Reena’s facial expression suddenly changed. Tommy noticed the way she looked at him, causing him to relieve the pressure of his foot on the gas clutch.
“Is something wrong?” he asked.
Her face turned flushed, her eyes gaping wide. “How’d you know about the book?”
Tommy’s heart skipped a beat as he suddenly grasped the implication of what he’d said. He cursed inwardly, realizing he unintentionally revealed his knowledge about Reena’s secret reading material. He quickly pulled the car to the side of the road, his mind racing to figure out how to make amends. Panic surged within him as he tried to find the right words to apologize for his slip-up.
Just one stupid statement, and now he was certain he had messed up their perfect day.
An uneasy silence enveloped the car, tension taut between them. Tommy clung to the steering wheel, his thoughts scrambling for words that could clarify his intent, yet none surfaced. He released a defeated sigh, his shoulders sagging, and shifted his gaze to Reena. Her expression remained rigid, a mask he couldn’t decipher, but the unmistakable hint of embarrassment flickered in her eyes, a shimmer in the dimming light.
“I’m sorry,” he muttered under his breath, barely able to look her in the eye. “I just got curious and… and I took a peek.” His voice broke as he spoke, failing to hide his embarrassment at his own actions. “I’m really sorry.”
His fantasies of sharing those intimate moments with her seemed to wither in the atmosphere, replaced by the weight of reality settling over him. How foolish he had been to entertain the notion that he might regain the same opportunity he lost. The tender kiss they shared at the concert and the warmth of holding her hand in the restaurant were mere gestures.
The reality hit him hard – those weren’t enough to bridge the gap he’d created between them. His futile attempts to make it up with her were far from sufficient to mend the fractures he’d inflicted upon their relationship.
Reena’s fingers found the seatbelt’s latch, the familiar click resonating in the quiet car as she unbuckled it, her gaze fixed ahead. As his worry swept in, Tommy gently grabbed her wrist.
“Please, you don’t have to go,” he begged. “I’ll drive you back home.”
She looked down at his hand, then her gaze was lifted, meeting his eyes. “Do you have an idea why I’m reading that book?”
Slowly, Tommy loosened his hold on her. He was right. She hadn’t forgotten.
“If it’s about what happened–” he hesitated, his voice lowering involuntarily, “in… in the studio–”
“No,” she said, cutting him through. Her voice was firm, giving no room to doubt what she meant. “It’s not about that.”
Tommy gazed at her, seeking answers. “Then, why?”
In a swift motion, Reena jumped from her seat toward his lap, straddling her legs over him. He was caught off guard, but the kind of shock that coursed through his veins was something out of thrill. She caught his face and leaned down, their lips touching in the passionate moment, sealing the space that separated their breaths from each other.
All Tommy could think of was how good her lips felt on his, the seams of her cusps tracing every inch of his mouth, filling his heart with bliss. Her breath flared against him, moaning and kissing him like she hadn’t done in ages. His hands dragged down to her waist, pinching and feeling her curves, then he lowered them even more, cupping the cheeks of her ass.
She always tasted so good, sweet like cherries, and as the apex of her thighs pressed on his crotch, his cock strained so hard against his pants, begging to be free.
When she broke apart, Tommy wanted to pull her again, but her breathing turned ragged, seemingly peaked by the wave of passion they both tossed. Her disheveled hair looked so glorious on her face. Her breasts were just an inch away from him, and damn, Tommy yearned to bury himself into her bosom. His fingers dug into her luscious thighs, wanting to taste her again, not just her lips but her whole body. And tonight, he was drinking all of her… if she’d allow it. Of course.
Reena pressed her forehead on his, her eyes closed as she gasped for air. “Take me home,” she implored, the heat radiating from her was burning him and his core.
It was one of the fastest drives Tommy had ever done, beating the speed limit and ignoring the road signs. In the passenger seat, Reena pulled up the straps of her blouse that slid down her shoulders, giggling as she cast him a soft menacing look.
As they arrived at the estate, Tommy scooped her in his arms, prompting her to laugh. She clung to his neck as they climbed up, her teeth sinking into her lower lip that he promised to relish later.
The mobsters were shocked to find them as they emerged from the steps, but Tommy didn’t give a shit. As he let her down, Reena pulled his neck, kissing him once more, and he returned her zealousness by pressing her against the wall. She chuckled, and he simpered, not minding the eyes that could be watching them in disbelief.
Soon, they found themselves in the darkness of their bedroom. The pitch black welcomed Tommy, but unlike before when it felt empty and lonely, his chest burned in ecstasy. He didn’t have to sleep alone anymore. Her space on the mattress would be filled again. They bounced on the sheets while still latched into each other’s lips, tousling the flat covers into a chaotic frenzy of romance.
As Tommy pressed against her body, Reena reached downward, her deft hand gently grabbing the length protruding beneath his pants. A chuckle escaped his lips as he rubbed his nose on the crook of her neck, dragging his mouth over her shoulder, tenderly nibbling on her sweet skin. His hand lowered to the belt of her trousers, pushing them low until he found the bands of her underwear.
“Undress me,” she said, her eyes burning with desire.
Tommy scampered to do as he was told, pulling down her trousers and panties at the same time until they were set to her ankles. Reena’s breathing became shallow as he opened her legs, giving him easy access to the apex of her thighs. Tommy took it as an invitation to guide his hand toward the middle. He immediately touched the soft muscle that caused her to twitch. Feeling her wetness made him smile, and he commenced the mellow strokes from the spot toward her folds.
“Right there,” she moaned, her hold on his other hand tightening.
Tommy leaned down to her breast, tugging it with his mouth beneath the fabric. Her nipple felt hard, and aching to taste it bare, he hurriedly yanked down her sleeves, revealing her fullness.
The sight sent a tingling sensation down his whole body, the scars on her chest looking like a trail of stars. Following his urge, he dipped into her breast again, sucking her nipple between his lips. In deliberate movements, he lightly nipped with his teeth and licked in circles with his tongue, shifting back and forth between the peaks of her breasts.
Reena’s hip arched against his hand that fiddled with her clit, her moans in a delightful crescendo. He pressed his hand down further, into her split, gliding a couple of fingers through her wet hole, teasing the opening. Tommy locked his eyes on her, seeing her face frowning in euphoria. She grabbed a fistful of his hair, squirming in his mercy, causing a smirk to tug on his lips.
“Let me get up…” she implored all of a sudden, and Tommy reluctantly removed his hand and his mouth from her, wondering what she was going to do. In a hurry, Tommy fumbled for his pants, removing the button and dragging down the zipper, releasing himself from the bounds of his jeans.
In her most beguiling shift, Reena arched her hips toward him and claimed his cock with her mouth, swathing the whole of his girth with the warm, inner walls of her cheeks. She purred and hummed and moaned, trembling every bit of his nerves. His mind was lost in pleasure, spinning in a carousel of bliss. The roof of her mouth brushed against his sensitive tip, sending shivers down his spine. Cradling his hands on the back of his head, Tommy liberated himself to her assertion, letting himself groan every time she pressed her throat down, his cock pushing against the soft yet tight passage of her gorge.
Oh, how long he’d been imagining that they’d do this again. And now, he couldn’t wish for more.
As his eyes fluttered while she blew his brains with sheer dedication, Tommy grabbed one of her legs and forced her to spread before him, her knees sinking into the sheets on both sides of his shoulders. He wouldn’t let the chance pass without having a taste of her, so he lifted his head and licked on her split just right above his face, causing her to jolt.
Her perfection – her scent and her mouthwatering juices drenched his face, but he wanted more. Pushing his tongue into her core, he heard her gasp, her mouth constricting around his erection. The reaction almost threw him off, rolling down in rapture, and as he sucked her hole and heard another strained cry, he braced his limbs over her rear, huddling her closer into his face.
Reena’s body shook uncontrollably against his lapping, overwhelming him once again with the addicting taste. After a moment when she seemed to catch her breath, his erection feeling every puff of the warm, exhausted air, Reena sat, removing herself from her previous position, tapping the sides of his hips as if to surrender. She turned around with a wicked smirk, and she crashed her lips onto his cusps, sucking every bit of his breath. She pinned him onto the bed, telling him without a word to keep lying on his back. Tommy relaxed his head against the soft pillow as she jumped above him, looming over his futile presence. Holding his shaft, she directed it toward her center, and slowly, Reena lowered herself, bringing out a stifled, high-pitched whimper from her mouth.
Above him, his wife looked majestic. Her blouse covered just her stomach and the thin sleeves barely clung to her shoulders, her breasts jutting slightly above the neckline. Her swollen, red lips made dimmer by the pale moonlight coming from the window looked so moist and so precious, accentuating the creasing of her eyebrows in the middle. Her hands were on his chest, pressing, clutching, clawing… and she rolled her hips over him, her walls fully enveloping his erection.
“I’m yours, just yours…” Tommy moaned as he lifted her slightly, reclining her toward him, her breasts hanging above his face. He positioned his legs, arched his hips, and began to pounce, thrusting into her from beneath. A whine tore her throat, and he caught her bobbing breasts like succulent fruits ready to be plucked with his mouth, relishing the sweet taste of her sweat.
Tommy could feel the pressure, her core imbibing him in, tightening and sucking his essence into her depths. Letting go of her breasts, he lifted his head and caught her lips instead, sucking the faint cries that flowed from her mouth. Her walls clenched around his cock until Tommy couldn’t hold it any longer, and the words he held in his chest for months since they parted streamed like an unstoppable deluge.
“I’ll die without you, Reena…”
Her grip on his head braced, and he thrust harder, deeper, and faster. She sat up and tilted back, pushing the heels of her palms on the shaking cushion, splaying her half-naked self before him, whining and screaming in delight.
Tommy jerked up from the bed, wrapping his arm around the arc of her spine and grabbing the crook of her knees. He turned her over to the bed, with him looming over now, seeing the grimaced smile on her face as she flipped her arms over his shoulders.
Passion and adoration cascaded from his chest down to his loins, taking him to the point of no return. He growled, sweat dripping from his head as he caught her lips once more. In his arms, Reena shuddered vigorously, her body melting helplessly on the sheets. Her quivering legs were wrapped around his hips, her fading arms around his neck. Their voices rasped in sync as they ended in utter bliss, following each other over the edge.
Tommy didn’t want to get out of that position anymore.
Time flowed on, a gentle current guiding them away from the fervor they’d shared. Tommy settled beside her, his head finding a comfortable nook on her shoulder, absorbing the lingering warmth of their entwined bodies. He snuggled closer, burying himself into her existence.
“Mr. Vercetti,” her voice brushed against his ear like a feather’s touch, a half-whisper that held the essence of their private world. Her eyes remained shut, yet her words bore a gentle smile. “You’re full of surprises...”
His fingers traced lines across her skin. “You think so?”
“Why do you make me happy?” She blinked her eyes open, casting a sleepy gaze at him that held a vulnerability she rarely showed.
Tommy grinned, his heart brimming with affection. “Have I been successful so far?” he teased, coaxing laughter from her and himself.
His heart swelled as her fingertips grazed his scalp, a slow, soothing dance that ignited a soft hum of pleasure in him. Contentment radiated from her, yet a hint of shadows clouded her gaze.
“I know it’s been tough for you,” her voice drifted off as if the words were carried on a breeze. Her eyes seemed to search for answers beyond the room’s confines. “After everything, I didn’t know where to begin...”
A rush of emotions surged within him, a feeling he struggled to contain. His thumb brushed her cheek as he cupped her face, his gaze unwavering.
She was his anchor, his solace, the embodiment of everything he held dear.
His wife. His Reena. His life.
“We start here,” he whispered, his voice tender, his gaze locked on her hazel eyes. “Step by step, we move forward together.”
Tears welled in her eyes. Her face held a blend of joy and longing, and her gaze shifted to his lips before her arms wrapped around him.
He returned the embrace with equal fervor, his arms encircling her fragile body. His face nestled against her neck, his breath mingling with her scent.
“I love you,” Reena whispered.
Her voice was a breath against his skin, a calm in his storm. Amid the murmurs and whispers that tumbled from her lips, those three words stood out, a melody that played with his heartbeat, filling Tommy’s chest with everything he needed right now.
There was nothing Tommy could ask for more.
He was complete again, and he’d never let this second chance go to waste.
Notes:
It's almost Christmas here! Yay! I hope you're having a merry night, filled with wonderful celebrations with your families or loved ones. And if ever you're too far away, or prefer being alone, I hope you're having a great time by yourself, enjoying a bottle of beer to rejoice how amazing you are!
I made this Christmas video! I hope you like it! Instagram
Thank you so much for reading! <3
Chapter 78: The "Good News"
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
ASUKA AWOKE EXHAUSTED, her raven hair tousled across the soft, white pillows. Maria’s leg was on her hips, so she gently pushed it aside, causing Maria to groan and shift in her sleep. A night of drinking had led to something steamier, leaving her feeling pleasantly sore. Maria always became wild and uninhibited when drunk, and Asuka couldn’t deny her own response. Sometimes, she simply needed it.
Carefully getting out of bed, Asuka stepped onto the wooden floor and slid the door open as silently as possible, not wanting to disturb Maria’s sleep. Maria’s clothes were strewn across the floor, and Asuka decided not to pick them up.
The hallway was dimly illuminated by the sunlight filtering through the blinds of the balcony. Asuka made her way to the sink and turned on the faucet, splashing cold water on her face to wake herself up. With her face still wet, she filled the kettle and set it to boil water for her morning tea. Maria wouldn’t be up anytime soon to make it for her.
When the kettle whistled, Asuka poured the hot water into a cup and immediately smelled the steaming aroma of the tea. She took a sip, wincing as the heat touched her lips. As she sipped the tea, her hand cradled the cup for warmth, and a sense of triumph swelled within her. The Yakuzas in Vice City had informed her that the construction of her casino branch was complete. Establishing her presence in the South felt like a significant accomplishment, all of which was because of her newfound partnership with Tommy.
Their agreement, for what it was worth, was more than just a trade deal. Her casino branch marked a significant stride in her aspirations, and the oyabun was very pleased, even to the point of offering a hand to finance her other endeavors.
She remembered asking Tommy if he was starting a new business in the new town – Las Venturas – where he intended to bring his family. Tommy’s reaction was blatant and firm, leaving no room for any doubt.
“We’re leaving because I want my family away from my life’s mess,” he had stated. “I ain’t letting this shit follow us there.”
It was ambitious – too ambitious, in fact, to embark on in a world where nobody got to escape, but Asuka admired Tommy for that.
A soft knock on her apartment door drew her attention. A man’s voice called out, one of her Yakuzas, saying that mail had been delivered to her box.
“Slide it under the door,” she ordered.
She saw the envelope appear beneath the gap, but she didn’t immediately retrieve it. Her temples throbbed slightly, a reminder of the intense night between her and Maria. Closing her eyes momentarily, Asuka continued to drink her tea. However, the sound of heavy footsteps in the hallway made her look over her shoulder.
Maria was there, draped in a blanket, dragging the sheets across the floor.
“You’re up early,” Asuka remarked, feeling her cheeks warm as she averted her gaze from Maria. “I thought you’d be asleep for a while longer.”
Maria’s eyes were still half-closed. “Couldn’t find my clothes. Did you take them?”
“I guess you didn’t check the floor,” Asuka quipped.
Maria headed for the couch but paused when she saw the envelope. She bent down and picked it up, waving it at Asuka. “What’s this?”
“I’ll check it later.”
Maria scoffed. “I’ll open it now.”
Rolling her eyes, Asuka turned around and finished her tea, indulging in the serene view from her balcony. Maria then sat on the couch and covered herself with the blanket, tearing the envelope open. She began to draw the contents out.
“It’s a letter,” Maria murmured, and before Asuka could react, Maria had already unfolded it.
Asuka Kasen,
How does it feel being the first Asian face in Vice City? Gotta admit, it must be a hell of a rush. Your casino’s towering over everything, backed by some serious firepower. Bet your family’s looking down with a boatload of pride, huh? Navigating this city as a woman in a man’s world? Now that’s a feat, but you’re not just any woman. We all know that. You’re strong, with or without your brother.
But let’s shift the gears for a second…
Leaving a friend behind, how’s that sit with you? Been quite a stretch since that happened. You did what needed doing back then, leaving him in the dust made sense. But does it still add up now? Are you still good with that call?
Here’s to hoping your gut led you down the right path.
K.R.
Maria looked puzzled as she finished reading. She turned the paper over, searching for more on the back, but it was blank. Asuka walked over to her side, placing her hands on her hips as she studied Maria on the couch.
“This is strange. What do you think it means?” Maria asked, her brows furrowing. “And who’s K.R.?”
Asuka shrugged her shoulders. “I’ve no idea. Is there something else aside from that?”
“Yeah, there’s more.” Maria picked up the second sheet of paper. “Would you like me to read it aloud?”
“Sure, go ahead. You’ve already read the letter,” Asuka said as she settled across from Maria, leaning forward.
As Maria started reading aloud, Asuka’s curiosity turned into shock. Even Maria’s voice began to tremble, ascertaining that even she was alarmed.
It felt like a thousand blades slashing her all at once, striking a chord within her, undoubtedly stirring her resolve upon the choices she made in the past.
THE STEEL GARAGE doors screeched as 8-Ball hoisted them up, revealing another day in Shoreside Vale. It was quieter here compared to Newport, and today, he wasn’t in the mood to deal with anyone. The prospect of just sitting by the garage, nursing a cold beer while waiting for customers, felt like the same old routine – yesterday, the day before, and countless days prior.
He thought of leaving Liberty City, but he didn’t know where else to go. This sprawling city had been his life the entire time, its streets and corners imprinted in his memory. Since cutting ties with the Mafia, his life had taken on a semblance of peace, except for the occasional favors he did for the Yakuzas.
Asuka told him last night that the casino’s construction was done, and she was ecstatic, celebratory… but 8-Ball couldn’t find the same joy within himself. Something didn’t sit right with him. He wasn’t making a fuss about her business dealings with Tommy Vercetti – after all, business was business, and he wasn’t judging her. There could be a plethora of reasons why she agreed, and perhaps, that included Reena.
After speaking with Asuka, 8-Ball took a stroll through Pike Creek. As he reached the bridge overlooking the expansive water, his gaze fell upon the distant Cochrane Dam. Its majestic hollow dome stood proudly at the water’s edge, casting a looming shadow over the flowing currents. At that moment, a wave of nostalgia washed over him, tugging at his emotions so strongly that he felt a lump forming in his throat.
The sight of the dam never failed to trigger memories from the past… memories that held so much pain for him as they did for Reena.
What if he didn’t keep the truth? What if he just told her what was going on and let her decide what to do with it–
No, it was too late now.
To lift himself from the sudden wave of regret that washed over him, he sought refuge in a lively club, where he observed the rhythmic dance of the crowd while sipping on his beer. After a couple of bottles, a girl approached him. Her features were somewhat blurred in his perception, yet her conversation flowed freely, briefly offering a moment of distraction. 8-Ball engaged in conversation, attempting to find amusement, but before long, his attention began to drift. Eventually, he left the club abruptly, realizing it wasn’t worth the shot.
Maybe, he should stay in Newport instead of torturing himself, or he could stop fretting about his own life and move on. He wasn’t sure what to do.
Scratching his head, 8-Ball entered his place and settled onto the steel chair positioned just outside his door. With a freshly brewed cup of coffee in hand, he took a sip and simultaneously unfurled the newspaper that had recently been delivered, plucked from his front gate. As he was on the verge of delving into its contents, the abrupt arrival of a motorcycle drew his attention to the entrance of the auto yard. A slender figure clad in biker attire dismounted from the bike and called out from the gates.
“Mail delivery!”
Barely a minute had passed since he settled into his seat. A sigh escaped his lips, and, rising reluctantly, 8-Ball stood and made his way to the courier, extending his hand to receive the awaited document. The delivery person wasted no time, swiftly pedaling away the moment 8-Ball’s fingers closed around the mail. Still holding the newspaper in his right hand, he fixed his gaze on the nondescript brown envelope, curiosity shrouding his thoughts. Typically accustomed to receiving mail laden with advertisements and occasional bills, this mysterious packet was a puzzle. Its surface revealed no clues or identifiers, leaving him wondering about its contents.
Resuming his seat, he tore open the packet and revealed two papers – a letter and documents stapled together. As he placed the newspaper and the torn envelope aside, he absent-mindedly massaged his stubble, lost in thought. 8-Ball unfolded the letter and began to silently peruse the contents.
8-Ball Hudson,
Don’t you find your life pretty damn dull these days? Well, I suppose it doesn’t exactly make a difference. You’ve got all the time you need to do whatever the hell you please. After all, you managed to rebuild your auto yard once the Harwood branch went up in smoke. What a damn shame, though. You poured your sweat and soul into that venture. But I guess things are looking up now, right?
Speaking of which, having a true friend was just a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. Letting that slip through your fingers just because you’re helpless to do anything about it? Well, that’s pretty damn disappointing.
I wish that you had been a better brother.
K.R.
His heavy eyelids twitched, a subtle but undeniable apprehension began to coil within his mind.
The person who sent him the letter sure didn’t do much to improve his mood. 8-Ball’s face twisted with a mix of emotions as he tossed the letter aside and grabbed the torn envelope instead. It was one of those mornings where he was already lost in his own thoughts about life, and he kind of didn’t want to bother, but somehow, he did care now, and it was getting on his nerves.
“Who the fuck is this?!” he muttered, his frustration brimming as he flipped the packet around, hoping for a clue about its origin. Unfortunately, it lacked any discernible information. With a frustrated sigh, 8-Ball decided to cast the envelope and its contents aside.
As he was about to stand up, his attention shifted to the other papers. The texts on the surface glared at him as if inviting him to take and unravel them.
With his heart in his throat, 8-Ball reached for the papers, his hands trembling.
His eyes widened along with his mouth. 8-Ball felt a tightness in his chest… the kind of tightness that shook his very core.
“Fuck…” he muttered in sheer disbelief as his eyes began to sting.
TOMMY OPENED HIS eyes, blinking gently at the slight tinge of bright glow coming from the window. Slowly peering down, he found Reena’s head lying on his chest, her arm wrapped around his body, their skins against each other. He didn’t want to move, but he wanted to see her face. Begrudgingly, he shifted, gently laying her head on his arm and sliding a bit away.
He cupped his hand on her face, stroking her cheek with his thumb as tenderly as he could. Tommy didn’t want to wake her up. Seeing her sleeping beside him made his mornings even brighter.
Reena’s soft, satisfied moan lingered in the room, though her eyes remained shut. The celebrations for Cleo’s second birthday had been a whirlwind of joy. And then, as the night settled in, he and Reena didn’t waste time.
Tommy’s smile widened as he replayed the scenes from the night before. He recalled the way Reena had straddled him, a cascade of emotions flickering across her face as her fingers traced patterns of pleasure and need on his chest. The sounds she made, the whispers and moans that escaped her lips, echoed in his mind, etching a vivid image that was both satisfying and intoxicating. Their bodies had moved with a rhythm of passion, each touch and kiss pushing them closer to the precipice.
Anticipation simmered within Tommy as he envisioned the night that lay ahead. The thought of being with his wife again, of giving in to her warm kisses and embrace, filled him with a thrilling kind of energy. And as he looked at the woman who had become his everything, he knew that the life he had now was one he never wanted to end.
He couldn’t stop gazing at her, his fingers almost instinctively reaching out to brush against her lips. Part of him wanted to lean in and give her a sweet wake-up kiss, but he figured making breakfast for their little family first would be a nice start to the day.
Leaving a tender kiss on her forehead, he carefully laid her down and pulled the blanket up over her, making sure she was all snug and cozy. He knew she loved to burrow under the covers as soon as he got up. After putting on his clothes, with a last glance at her, Tommy got out of the bedroom as quietly as he could, striding toward the nursery. The door was slightly ajar and he peered, seeing the boy and Mrs. Hubbard sleeping beside each other while Tamia was in the cot, snuggling like an angel. He beamed, then he continued his steps.
When he reached the stairs, he saw Mike climbing up, and, upon seeing him, the man stuck out his hand, handing over a mail toward him.
“Boss, this came in just today,” Mike reported.
Tommy thought of telling him to just toss it on his table, but he realized it might not take him long to check it out.
“Thanks. I got it.”
Quickly, he spun around and headed to his office. The packet was bereft of any details – no sender and no return address. Taking a cutter from his drawer, he sliced the mail open, which revealed a folded paper and a document. As he discarded the envelope, he grabbed the folded paper and opened it.
Tommy Vercetti,
First off, congratulations on this new chapter you’ve carved out for yourself. Honestly, I never would’ve guessed you’d be all about that family life. But hey, dreams change and evolve over time. No finger-pointing from me; I get it. You’re probably living out that vision you’ve been craving for ages.
Speaking of which, how’s the little one? I heard that things with you and Reena are on the up and up. She’s back in the estate, right? Kind of poetic that she’d return even after catching you and Mercedes in the act. A saintly move, Tommy. But let’s not kid ourselves, even saints have their shades. After all, she also kissed you when she was still with her lover, didn’t she?
Oh, and you’ve been a true friend, haven’t you? You’ve kept that pact intact and honored your word.
Hope you’re soaking in every ounce of joy these days, even if I regret to inform you that it won’t last forever.
How quickly his mood turned sour.
His hand clenched and crumpled the paper. Even if it didn’t have a signature, he was sure who it was. The motherfucker wasn’t giving up. How the fuck did he know about what happened to him and his wife? And how on earth did he learn that she’d given birth? Asuka told him before that she saw Reena talking to Ken Rosenberg, but his wife told him nothing about it. Not that he’d asked her, but she didn’t seem speaking to anyone, let alone to that schmuck.
Enough was enough. Ken Rosenberg had proven himself to be a pest, and Tommy wouldn’t let him get near her or his family. He’d be hunting him down. Teach him a lesson. Perhaps, afterward, he’d learn to stay away and get his fucking hands off them.
In exasperation, Tommy snagged the other document and began reading it.
An immediate wave of trepidation that eventually turned into wrath filled his entire body. His fists tightly gripped the paper, and as beads of sweat rolled down from his head, Tommy felt his knees waver, causing him to grab onto the desk for a hold. He didn’t realize that he’d been holding his breath until he felt his lungs almost explode. As he let the constricted air escape through his mouth, Tommy swept the back of his hand on his forehead, and the lump in his throat combined with the tightening of his chest weakened his whole body.
Conflicted. That was what he felt. He should’ve been happy. He should’ve been celebrating. Freedom. But why was he feeling otherwise?
That fucking traitor. Ken Rosenberg knew very well what happened. It was his choice. He decided himself. How come now that he was being set free? How was the sentence revoked? Asuka told him that Ken Rosenberg mentioned getting him out of the State Penitentiary, and he called the bluff. Now, his disregard of what he thought the lawyer’s senseless threats proved to be a big mistake, slapping him hard in the face.
“Who the fuck are you working for?” Tommy asked, staring at Ken’s initials.
There was no way that he’d let go of what he had now. He and Reena just got back together. They bounced back from a point of no return, almost losing their relationship and family. They were happy. And Cleo? He was the boy’s father now. Tamia, their baby… she completed their lives. And Reena loved him. She said and showed that. Tommy thought all things were going well. His chances were once unlimited.
But now, with all the hauntings that started to reveal themselves, he realized that his time had already run out. Everything that he built through the years – the best of all decisions he’d made in his life – was now on the brink of falling before his eyes.
He wouldn’t let it happen. Never.
Too late to admit the truth. Too late to take back all that he’d said and done. Too late to correct his mistakes, but it wasn’t too late for him to run away. He wasn’t letting them catch him, not until he dragged his children and his wife away from his reach…
Notes:
A Happy 2024 to y'all!
Thank you so much for reading! <3
Chapter 79: Vetoed
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
KEN ROSENBERG STEPPED out of the Sentinel, his shoes clacking on the cold concrete as he stood before the State Penitentiary. The imposing gates loomed above him, guarded by two stern figures who met his gaze with a nod.
Protocol demanded he surrender for inspection, a thorough scan of his body and possessions. The guard’s hands methodically roved over his frame, their touch invasive yet necessary. Every pocket, every fold, every crevice, scrutinized. His briefcase wasn’t an exemption from the security’s watchful eye. His belongings were subjected to the scanner, leaving no room for doubt to flourish. With his appointment confirmed, the barriers parted, granting him passage into the heart of the prison’s security.
Since Elmer Groove’s death and the scandal he left with the LCPD, the State Penitentiary had changed its defense. The once-vulnerable walls had been fortified with renewed purpose. The threat of incompetence was expunged and replaced with a vigilant shield. CCTVs and scanners were all around. Officers lined every corridor, their presence palpable, weapons ready to be drawn if the need arose. The building itself had become a citadel, a crest of the LCPD’s commitment to quelling disorder.
Navigating the echoing hallways of the ground floor, Ken gravitated toward an elevator that would lead to the cell blocks. Silence enveloped him, a stark contrast to the bustling world outside these walls. His steps thumped against the floor, disturbing the hall’s utter stillness.
Arriving at the maximum-security sector, there was a reinforced door. It swung open, then clanged shut, leaving him enclosed within.
The guard gave him instructions, his tone and demeanor as cold as steel. “When you reach the end of the hallway, go to your left. Enter the last room to your right and wait for him there.”
Ken followed the directions, his footfalls resounding like a heartbeat. The flickering, dimmed lights danced their own hesitant waltz, shadows stretching across plain walls. The air hung stale, heavy with the pressure of this forbidding place.
He stepped into the room, chairs poised on either side of a steel table. Ken claimed the seat nearer the entrance. His briefcase hit the table with a muted thud, the only sound that he could ever hear apart from his own breathing.
Roughly ten minutes passed and the steel door clangoured as it opened. A couple of police officers entered the room, escorting the prisoner. Ken looked at them, but the police didn’t pay him attention, moving along as if he wasn’t there. They unlocked the inmate’s handcuffs and pushed him down to the chair. Then, the officers left the room without any word, locks sliding into place like the bars of a cage.
He looked different now. His beard and mustache had grown thick, covering his cheeks down to his chin and up to his lip, just below his nose. He had a cut on his upper left eyebrow, a huge, burn scar on the right side of his face, and finer creases on his forehead. He looked older.
His eyes, however, remained the same – callous, expressionless, and even more so, vile and piercing.
Ken’s throat felt dry as he swallowed, his nerves getting to him. He’d always been scared of this guy, and seeing him now, he was even more scared. His lips quivered a bit, but he pushed through it, mustering up the courage to start the conversation.
“I-It’s been a long time, Claude Speed–”
“What the fuck do you want?!” he growled, his voice coarse and heavy, his glare raging and uninviting.
“I... uh, would like to show you these,” Ken began, his breath escaping in a shaky exhale. But the thudding in his chest felt like a drum, drowning out his words as he fumbled to locate the paper he needed. Claude’s gaze held impatience, casting a weight on Ken’s attempts to locate the file. It was akin to searching for a needle in a haystack, and with each passing second, the sensation of time slipping through his fingers intensified. Every moment lost seemed like a missed opportunity.
Raising his eyes by chance, he caught sight of Claude’s intense glower fixed on him. If looks could kill, he’d be a hundred times over a goner. Ken’s frantic search escalated, his hands skimming over the papers in a rush, but his thoughts were in disarray.
Luck favored him as his fingertips brushed against the edge of the document’s corner. With a sigh of relief, Ken managed to secure the paper and brandished it before Claude. “Got it! Look, here!” he burst out, his voice rising with excitement. He extended his hand, offering the paper as if in an attempt to defuse the mounting tension.
Claude reclined against the backrest of his chair, an air of both boredom and annoyance etched onto his features. Despite the curiosity that might have stirred within him, he maintained a resolute silence. There was no trace of interest in his disposition, no inkling that he sought to unravel the purpose of Ken’s visit.
It was apparent that Ken wasn’t the person Claude had been yearning to encounter. In fact, Claude’s preference was evident; he had forbidden anyone, including 8-Ball Hudson, from visiting him, save for Tommy, who last visited a year ago.
Ken held out the document, anticipating Claude’s acceptance. However, Claude remained steadfast, maintaining his nonchalant stance with his back against the seat and his arms crossed over his chest. Recognizing that Claude was unlikely to shift from his position, Ken opted for a different approach. He gingerly placed the paper on the table, ensuring the stipulations were visible, and then carefully pivoted it to align with Claude’s reading. With a subtle slide, he nudged the paper closer to Claude.
“I… I hope this changes everything now,” he mumbled. “I know it’s been hard for you. I am here to help you, Claude Speed.”
Despite his initial reluctance, Claude’s gaze slowly drifted from Ken to the paper on the table. The seconds stretched on, each passing moment seemingly amplifying the weight of his deliberation. His eyes, like steel traps, fixed onto the document, absorbing its contents with an intensity that betrayed his firm skepticism.
OFFICE OF THE SUPREME COURT
LIBERTY CITY
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Claude Speed v. People of Liberty City
- WHEREAS the accused, Claude Speed, having been adjudged culpable beyond reasonable doubt for the commission of multiple homicides based on the determination of the prosecution, is subject to a sentence of capital punishment in conformity with the provisions delineated in the 1961 Constitution, Federal Law Order No. 231, page 6, alongside his prior transgressions of armed robbery and evasion from legal authorities;
- WHEREAS, in alignment with the state’s commitment to ensuring the entitlement of every citizen to seek redress through the judicial system, allowing for a reevaluation of the case at hand;
- WHEREAS a meticulous reevaluation of the evidence has brought to light the fact that the defendant acted in self-defense against imminent assault and did not deliberately perpetrate the fatal outcomes;
- WHEREAS a meticulous reevaluation of the evidence has brought to light the fact that the defendant acted in self-defense against imminent assault and did not deliberately perpetrate the fatal outcomes;
- WHEREAS the highest court now pronounces the EMANCIPATION of Claude Speed, accompanied by a renewed verdict that absolves him of the charges and other transgressions as stipulated by Federal Law Order No. 561, page 57.
Signed and sealed by:
HON. OLIVER SCARBEIN
Supreme Court Chief Justice
Liberty City
The rigid lines of Claude’s face seemed to soften… as if the words before him were unraveling a hidden thread. His stare, once piercing and steady, now wavered, the facade of indifference showing subtle cracks.
Over a span of two and a half years, Ken contemplated, this man had been bracing himself for the inevitable, ensnared within the clutches of justice that had predetermined his destiny. With hope lost, Claude had closed himself, distancing all but one from his midst – a friend who happened to be the very one who betrayed him the most.
But now, here he was, standing before the nearly-breaking chains to liberty, ready to be freed.
A near-imperceptible nod showed his understanding. Though his expression remained carefully composed, it was as if an invisible barrier had been crossed. Suddenly, a tear fell from his eye. Claude gripped the document, his head dropping, and then a shiver passed through him. Before long, Ken caught the sound of a muffled grunt, and that single teardrop turned into a steady stream, plopping onto the crumpled paper he held.
Claude Speed, the tough and unbreakable man who’d faced unimaginable feats, was now openly shedding tears in front of him.
“You’re getting out,” Ken murmured, a smile quirking his lips. He knew that by giving Claude the decision in person, he was able to establish himself the trust he desired to have.
But he wasn’t done yet – he had more things to reveal.
“You’ll be out soon, and when you do, I’ll be waiting outside–”
“Did Tommy do this?!” Claude asked, his grip on the paper still unrelenting, as if on the verge of tearing it apart.
Ken’s head shook slowly, his movements purposeful as he collected the disarrayed documents strewn across the table. He tucked each paper back into the briefcase. After everything that Tommy had done, if Claude just knew, he wouldn’t be looking for his ever-loyal friend.
He felt a burning surge of rage coursing through him. Tommy abandoning him was a painful blow to his sense of self-worth. Their partnership had disintegrated into a million pieces, leaving him bare, hurt, and bitter. He’d given Tommy many chances to redeem himself, but now, Ken was set to destroy him and everything he ever had, including his alliances, his businesses, his family, and his wife.
“No, Claude,” he snickered. “Tommy didn’t. He tried before, yeah, but this? Not him.”
“Then why are you here?”
Of course, he understood. Over the years, he’d been like Tommy Vercetti’s shadow. Where Tommy went, he trailed behind, faithful as a loyal pup. Ken was well aware that it probably seemed baffling to Claude at the moment. Yet, he was resolute in his commitment to show Claude that this time, he was the one deserving of trust.
Ken placed his briefcase down and locked eyes with him. A knowing smile played on his lips. “Let’s just say… someone you wouldn’t expect, well, they stepped up to make your release happen.”
Claude’s eyes lit up. “What about 8-Ball? Asuka?”
“It’s not them, either,” Ken said, pursing his lips. For the first time, all the anxiety he harbored toward Claude Speed melted away. Ken now realized he held the reins, knowing he had the upper hand.
With his face contorting, Claude’s disbelief swiftly gave way to a surge of furious anger. Ken braced himself, half-expecting Claude to erupt in a fit of rage. However, to his surprise, Claude’s expression underwent another change, as if shifting through emotions at breakneck speed.
Leaning closer, almost standing, hope flickered on Claude’s face.
“Reena…” he said, his voice wavering at every syllable. “Where’s she?”
There you go.
Avoiding eye contact, Ken rose from his seat and made his way to the door, leaving Claude in a state of bewilderment. No, he wasn’t going to reveal his knowledge just yet. Not at this moment. Claude needed to experience it firsthand, to feel it deep within himself, and to have his expectations built until they inevitably crumbled. Midway, Ken halted, a sly grin twisting his lips as he realized his next move. Releasing a heavy sigh from the depths of his being, Ken glanced back, deliberately casting an expression of puzzlement upon his face, sowing the seeds of further uncertainty in Claude’s mind.
“Don’t you know?” he inquired, intentionally furrowing his brows. “Didn’t Tommy tell you? He turned two years old just a few days ago.”
Shock flashed across Claude’s eyes.
It was the ideal form of torture, a dance of anticipation and deflation. Ken played the game – giving him hope, then ruthlessly snatching it away. With Claude now appearing vulnerable and adrift, Ken saw the opportunity to reintroduce a glimmer of faith. But once Claude grasped onto it, he would deftly yank it away again, stripping him of his motives until Claude Speed inevitably acted in a way that would shatter everything: Tommy, Reena, and even himself.
“What do you mean he’s two years old?” Claude pressed, and in that fleeting moment, Ken half-expected Claude to flip the table over, the impact of his clenched fists reverberating through the surface. “Who’s two years old?!”
Masking the thrill coursing through his veins with a facade of mock disappointment, Ken shook his head once more and disapprovingly clicked his tongue. Retrieving the doorknob, he shot a parting glance over his shoulder. His lips pursed together as if in contemplation, his gaze cast downward. Yet, beneath everything, a triumphant scream yearned to burst forth from the depths of his being.
“You and Reena…” Ken mumbled, locking his eyes with Claude. “You had a son…”
Notes:
Thank you so much for reading <3
Chapter 80: Pawns and Players
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
BARELY CATCHING HIS breath, 8-Ball sprinted to Asuka’s condominium. His heart pounded in his chest, his pace urgent as he dashed down the hallway, sweat trailing in his wake. Each thud of his footsteps echoed the gravity of what he held in his hand – the envelope.
He wondered if Asuka received a similar package.
Just as he was about to knock on her door, in a swift motion, it swung open. Maria’s distressed face greeted him, causing 8-Ball to freeze on his spot. Yet, without a moment to spare, Maria suddenly seized his shirt and pulled him inside, slamming the door shut behind him.
Asuka stood stiff, wearing the same expression on her usually calm face. Her eyes met his, and her mouth parted, though with hesitation. “Did you get it, too?!” she probed, concern and anticipation hinted in her tone.
8-Ball nodded in agreement, along with an unstoppable trembling, and his eyes gravitated toward the table where a similar envelope lay. The contents were exposed wide open, and the words on the papers seemed to taunt them, mocking their reality. Just like him, Asuka and Maria had already read the documents, given their dispositions.
Without anything more to say, 8-Ball extended a hand, offering the envelope he had likewise obtained.
Maria swiftly took it from his hand and proceeded to examine its contents. “It’s the same, Asuka,” she confirmed, extracting the two papers and discarding the rest of the packet onto the floor.
Asuka grabbed the letter and settled onto the couch, carefully unfolding it and placing it next to the already sprawling paper on the table. “The same person sent this to us…” she said, pointing at the bottom of the papers. “K.R.”
“Who could that be?!” 8-Ball cried, waving his hand toward the letters. “W-We should go to him. We should check up on him–”
“No,” Asuka immediately answered, her voice firm and callous.
“Why not?!”
“Whoever’s doing this has the intention to stir up some kind of…” The waka-gashira paused, seemingly unable to find the right word to describe what she meant. Her lips curled, and her brows furrowed, her eyes darting between nowhere in particular.
“A conflict?” Maria interjected.
Asuka’s head snapped up, her shaking lips giving way to an affirmation of what Maria had just said.
“Shouldn’t we be celebrating?” 8-Ball’s face twisted with confusion, forcing out a smile. He couldn’t comprehend why Asuka was so resistant to the idea of going to the State Penitentiary and taking their chances. Whoever this K.R. person was, if they visited Claude, they could at least warn him to be cautious.
It had been years since they’d seen him, and during those years, they were left in the dark about his life in prison. Every time 8-Ball attempted to visit, Claude would simply push him away. His stubbornness made things more complicated, but 8-Ball understood that deep down, Claude’s guilt was the driving force behind his actions. He didn’t want to burden anyone anymore, he wanted to shoulder his own struggles.
8-Ball took a step closer. “Claude’s about to be released–”
“If you think we should be happy, why do you look so scared?”
Asuka’s question landed like a punch to his gut. Claude was on the brink of freedom. He had escaped the clutches of the law. He was returning to their lives… alive. Wasn’t everything going back to normal?
Then, the reality hit him.
Reena and Cleo.
“He wouldn’t be able to take it if he finds out…” 8-Ball’s voice trailed off. His knees weakened, betraying his resolve to stand, and he lowered himself onto the couch, his hand clutching the armrest for support.
Maria cleared her throat. “So, you’re saying the same person sent these letters, right?”
Asuka nodded in confirmation, while 8-Ball remained lost in thought. His fingers twitched nervously as he clenched and unclenched his hands.
Maria raised her hands in exasperation and strode toward the coffee table. She snatched both letters from Asuka’s grasp and laid them side by side on the table. With a determined look, she scrutinized the two letters, as if searching for a hidden clue between them.
“This K.R. must know you both,” she said. “He’s goading you.”
8-Ball’s mind struggled to process Maria’s words. Since discovering Claude’s imprisonment, he had carried the weight of not being a sufficient friend to him. He felt powerless in his inability to help while Claude was incarcerated. Even during the first and the last time Claude agreed to see him, 8-Ball found himself tongue-tied, unable to express his feelings. Claude’s tired but penetrating gaze conveyed everything without a need for words.
Don’t let her know I’m here.
He protested, but Claude stood from his seat and left the visitor room, not allowing him to tell anything about Reena.
“Could this be… Ken Rosenberg?”
Asuka’s eyes grew large. “You’re right, it should be him…”
“Who’s Ken Rosenberg?” 8-Ball asked curiously, shifting his eyes between the two.
Asuka pursed her lips as she leaned her back against the seat. “I haven’t told you about this before, but when we went out with Reena in Torrington, we saw her talking to that man. Kenneth Rosenberg.”
The name did ring a bell for 8-Ball, but he couldn’t recall where he’d heard it.
“He told us something crazy that night when we were about to leave,” Maria continued as she folded her arms over her chest. “He said he’s been in the State Penitentiary to represent Tommy’s friend…”
“But they were denied by the Supreme Court. That was years back,” Asuka went on.
“If I remember it right, he talked about a guy who’s still in jail but he’s getting him out soon…”
“And he wonders if Tommy would be happy…”
Their recollection of what happened that night ended as they both looked at 8-Ball.
“Tommy’s friend?” Recalling that the very first time he met Tommy Vercetti in Ammu-Nation, he was with someone. “Does he have curly hair?”
“Yes! He does!” Maria exclaimed in an instant.
“Tinted eyewear? In a suit?”
“Exactly…” Asuka whispered.
His hands pressed against his temples, his tense body seeking some semblance of comfort. Now that they had a lead on who K.R. might be, 8-Ball attempted to piece together the puzzle. However, there was still a crucial missing part.
Feeling the throbbing pain in the temples of his head, 8-Ball rubbed a couple of his fingers over the sore spot. “Why would Ken Rosenberg do this?”
“That’s also the question Asuka probably has,” Maria said as she put the letters back on the coffee table.
Closing his eyes, 8-Ball contemplated their next steps carefully. With Claude’s unexpected release, they were all aware that he wasn’t prepared to learn about everything that had transpired during his absence. No one knew how he’d react upon discovering what Tommy had done, but 8-Ball’s primary concern was someone else.
“What about Reena?” Maria asked, seemingly aligned with 8-Ball’s thoughts. “What if she learns we kept this from her?”
Asuka rubbed the back of her neck, deep in thought. “She can’t know about this…”
8-Ball’s fists clenched tighter, his fingers digging into the fabric of his jeans. They’d been concealing the truth from Reena for years, and Asuka was still suggesting they should maintain the façade.
A surge of frustration and resentment toward Asuka flowed through him, his anger building up like a storm inside him. The years of guilt and hiding boiled over, and he shot a piercing glare at the waka-gashira, his eyes filled with an unmasked burst of spite.
“She deserved to know,” he grumbled as his voice broke. Remorse draped over his head like a phantom, blinding him with a fury so intense he wasn’t able to hold his tongue anymore. “She needed to know that Claude’s alive!”
“We’ve been through this, 8-Ball,” Asuka said as she put her hand on her head, shutting her eyes.
“What do you suggest we do now, then?” Maria’s voice broke through the tension, her words laced with curiosity and a hint of agreement. 8-Ball sensed that she too was on the verge of wanting to tell the truth. He could feel the weight of their deception on his shoulders, especially with Reena’s unwavering trust. The thought of her discovering the elaborate web of lies they’d spun for years filled him with unease. He knew that revealing the truth would shatter her perception of them, leaving her broken and betrayed.
From her seat, Asuka rose, gathering her suit that was lying on the armrest. “We have to talk to Tommy…”
“Tommy?! Why?!” 8-Ball jerked up and grabbed Asuka’s arm. “Why are you going to him? Didn’t he already do the biggest damage here?”
She drew her arm back. “He did, but he took the responsibility that Claude had abandoned. Besides, I think Rosenberg sent him something too.”
Still siding with Tommy Vercetti. 8-Ball scoffed in exasperation. “You think he’s helping…” He turned around and waved at the papers on the table. “Let him deal with his problem!”
“His problem is our problem, Hudson,” Asuka retorted with a stern voice as she walked toward the door. “If you insist on what you think was right, then, by all means, do it yourself. Go to Claude and tell him what we allowed to happen, and go to Reena and tell her what we did.”
8-Ball’s breath hitched. Her glare was like a sharp blade against his skin. 8-Ball often pondered the foundation of Asuka’s choices. Her demeanor, typically composed and assured, was now tinged with an air of uncertainty. He wondered if, like him, she carried a burden, a weight that had grown heavier over the years.
“Tell me if your stomach can take once Reena discovers the whole ploy just because you want to bail out.”
“Asuka, that’s not what I–”
The waka-gashira pivoted swiftly, flung the door open with a snap, and let it slam shut behind her, leaving 8-Ball and Maria standing in the flat…
TOMMY’S EARS CAUGHT the sound of coffee like steady raindrops, each drip a soothing rhythm that blended with the soft sizzle of steam rising from the surface. The warm aroma enveloped his senses. Across the counter, Reena stood, the pale afternoon light filtering through the window, casting a gentle glow upon her. Her fingers danced along the planner’s pages, the tap of the pen joining the coffee’s melody.
“So, next week, Asuka’s going back here for the opening of her casino. Have you gone there yet?”
All of a sudden, fog clouded his mind. He reached for the pot and poured hot coffee into his cup, but the next thing he knew, his mind was already drifting. Obscured.
No, Tommy. Fuck it.
He’d do what was needed. He’d protect everything he had just as always, the people he loved just as promised. His happiness wouldn’t just end like this–
“It’s spilling!” Reena’s abrupt scream jolted him back. She swiftly snatched the kettle from his grip as the cup overflowed. A nearby napkin absorbed the liquid, the cool texture replacing the warmth on his skin. Reena’s fingers closed around his hand, and her concerned gaze met his, grounding him in the present moment.
The scalding droplets of water that splashed upon the back of his hand barely registered, the stinging sensation muted by his thoughts. It was as if the world around him had dimmed, his senses dulled, rendering him momentarily disconnected.
“Are you hurt?” she inquired, her voice laced with worry. But without waiting for his reply, she took charge, leading him to the sink.
As the cool rush of water cascaded over his scalded skin, Tommy’s senses came flooding back. The stinging pain surged through his hand. His breath turned into a hiss, the agony prickling and throbbing in a relentless rhythm. He tried to draw his hand away instinctively, but Reena’s grasp on his wrist remained unyielding, keeping him submerged beneath the steady flow of cool water. The pain blurred a bit against the soothing chill of the running water, leaving him uncertain whether the discomfort was from the burn itself, the aftermath of the injury, or something else.
“I-I’m fine–”
“Tommy, can you just keep your hand there? Don’t make it hard for me.”
She was already chiding him, her words a gentle scolding that usually held a certain charm for him. He’d relished in the way her voice would rise in exasperation whenever he committed some minor blunder, finding a strange satisfaction in the cadence of her reproach. Whether it was his habit of skipping meals after work or his penchant for burning the midnight oil in the office, he’d often reveled in her concern. To calm her down, he’d cradle her in his arms, draw her onto his lap, and enfold her in a tight embrace. He’d nuzzle his face into the warm curve of her bosom or the dip of her spine, and he’d let her continue to talk as he received everything she’d said wholeheartedly. Her gentle reprimands were a dance he knew well and adored.
Yet now, the usual comfort eluded him, leaving him baffled and unable to grasp why he couldn’t embrace the familiar sense of contentment.
Was it because of the–
Reena cupped his cheeks, guiding his gaze to meet hers. Her palm was slightly damp, the pads of her fingers moving with a feather-light grace and drawing delicate patterns over his tired eyes. Tommy surrendered to the tender sensation, allowing his eyelids to close as her touch continued to caress him.
“Did I tire you last night?” she asked.
With a small smile tugging at his lips, he shook his head ever so slightly, as if trying to assure her even without words. “No, you didn’t tire me, it’s just…” Claude’s getting out, and I don’t know what I should do– “Just a lot on my mind, that’s all.”
Tommy settled onto a stool near the kitchen island. Reena positioned herself between his legs. Her fingers delicately threaded through his hair, tracing the contours of his scalp with a tender touch. He reveled in her touch, a thing he couldn’t fathom living without once his old friend came back.
She can never know. I’d never let her know.
“Is it one of your businesses?” She pressed a kiss to his left cheek, her lips leaving a warm imprint. “Or dealers?” Moving to the other side, she pecked his right cheek with equal affection.
Tommy nodded in response. He tried to anchor himself, letting her kisses linger in his thoughts, reassuring himself that they were evidence of her love for him. Perhaps, even with Claude’s return, Reena wouldn’t be drawn back to him. After all, she already had a Tommy Vercetti by her side, right?
But Tommy couldn’t find his confidence. Perhaps, deep inside, he knew to himself that the reality was far-fetched.
Her neck emitted a fragrance, urging Tommy to envelope her in his arms. He drew her near, his lips exploring the smooth skin of her neck with fervent kisses.
“I thought we were just making a coffee for your afternoon drink,” she teased.
His hands descended to her ass, fingers grazing the hem of her jeans as he kneaded and massaged the supple curves beneath. Reena’s laughter bubbled forth as she squirmed playfully against his touch. When she attempted to detach herself, he responded by tugging her closer, peppering her neck and shoulders with a cascade of affectionate kisses.
“Tommy, not here… they’ll see us…”
He wasn’t listening. His hand ventured beneath her shirt, ascending to her breasts, where his fingers brushed against her sensitive peaks. Encircling them with his thumb, Reena let out a hushed moan, and despite any initial resistance, her surrender became evident. Tommy’s grip on her nape tightened as he tangled his scalded hand in her hair, urging her lips to meet his in a zealous kiss. Their mouths melded, tongues intertwining as he savored the essence of her breath. Between his fingertips, her nipples responded to his touch, hardening with a tantalizing ache.
Oh, he didn’t care who’d see them. They could just turn around and walk away, pretending they didn’t see anything.
Reena dragged her fingers from his chest to his abdomen, and further down to his crotch, where his cock pressed insistently against his pants. She deftly undid his belt and unzipped his trousers with a single hand, revealing his longing beneath. Her touch explored his length through the fabric of his underwear, eliciting pleasurable shivers down his spine–
“Mama! Papa!”
They both jolted in their spots. Reena quickly smoothed down her shirt, while Tommy buttoned up his pants. As Cleo approached in a hurry, Reena tucked her hair behind her ears and bent down to scoop him up.
“Let’s draw!” the boy cried, and in his hand, he held a piece of crayon.
Mrs. Hubbard entered right after. She was clutching her chest so tightly, panting and gasping for breath. “Cleo!” She coughed, slowly marching toward Reena’s side. “He runs so fast now, I can’t keep up with him…”
With a flushed face and lips tinted like cherries, Reena turned her gaze back to Tommy, a mischievous smirk dancing on her lips, which he returned with the same vigor.
“Alright, let’s draw,” she agreed. Another glance in Tommy’s direction, and then, gripping onto Mrs. Hubbard’s arm for support, Reena began to make her way out of the kitchen, Cleo in her arms. Tommy’s eyes remained fixed on her, and Cleo sweetly waved him goodbye before disappearing around the corner.
“Nice save, bud,” he whispered, snickering to himself. After a momentary pause, Tommy rose from his seat and proceeded to clean up the spill that Reena had been tending to earlier. The pain in his hand seemed to resurface, reminding him of its lingering presence. He washed his hands once more, the cold water providing a temporary relief against the lingering discomfort.
Marcus came in, knocking briefly at the doorway. “Boss, I got the ticket.”
Tommy filled the cup with the remaining coffee in the pot. It wasn’t as hot as it was anymore. “Tomorrow?”
“Yes, Boss.”
He put the cup close to his nose, smelling the coffee’s aroma, then drank slowly. Tommy smacked his lips as he reminisced about the taste of Reena’s mouth. “Make sure no one knows where I’m going, especially my wife.”
Marcus just nodded.
“Does Leigh know?”
“No, Boss.”
“Good. She could coax him easily. If anyone else looks for me, just say that I’m in a business meeting.” He drained the cup quickly. The coffee barely touched his throat. “What about the flight to Las Venturas?” he probed further, peering at Marcus.
“Secured, Boss. The dates were changed to the seventh of September. Ralph says the villa’s ready.”
Tommy nodded in approval as Marcus departed at his signal. Leaning against the counter, he pressed his palms into its surface.
A year had gone by since his attempt to visit Claude in the State Penitentiary.
Maybe it was about time to see him again.
Notes:
Thank you so much for reading <3
Chapter 81: The Last Visit
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Portland, 2002
TOMMY SAT PATIENTLY on the opposite side of the fiberglass barrier. Despite Ken Rosenberg’s stern warning against visiting the State Penitentiary alone, he had decided to go anyway. The security personnel had been watching him closely since his arrival, a familiar feeling from his own time spent on the other side. Anxiety seized him, causing his right foot to tap rapidly against the floor. Uncertain whether Claude would even meet him after sending 8-Ball away last time, Tommy leaned forward, his hands intertwined, fingers locked together. He needed to see Claude, regardless of the possibility that he might be rejected once again.
A prisoner sat across from his visitor, a woman showing signs of age with strands of white in her hair. Observing from a distance, he noticed the sense of hopelessness in her demeanor as the elderly man in front of her maintained a solemn silence. She spoke about appeals, waiting, and praying, her words reaching him faintly.
He thought of Reena. Would she eventually find herself in the same position as the despondent woman who visited her husband in the penitentiary? Was that, perhaps, the underlying reason for Claude’s decision to distance himself from her, as he had confided in 8-Ball?
His contemplation came to an abrupt halt as Claude finally came. The shadows beneath his eyes cast a deep and haunting pallor, while the burn on the side of his face, although no longer fresh, retained its menacing glare. Bruises and scars, barely hidden by his clothes, marked his arms. With a screech of the chair against the floor, Claude pulled it back and seated himself on the other side of the thick fiberglass barrier. Face-to-face once again, their gazes locked, and even more disheartening than before, his friend exuded a heightened sense of misery.
Tommy reached for the phone at his side, and simultaneously, Claude did the same.
“Speed,” he started, “you doin’ okay?”
“Perhaps. I’m feeling a bit better than last time.”
Taking a deep breath, Tommy leaned on the counter, his elbow pressing into it. “Is it true?” he asked, his voice tinged with uncertainty. “Did you really say that to 8-Ball?”
Claude nodded, his gaze vacant and distant.
Tommy’s heart sank as he gazed at Claude. Disappointment welled up within him – a part of him understood, a part of him resented. He’d hoped for a different answer, one that would offer some explanation for Claude’s decision to disappear from Reena’s life.
His mind raced like a high-speed chase. How the heck was he supposed to bring up Reena’s pregnancy? It was like holding a ticking time bomb in his hands, every word a potential trigger. With Claude sitting there, looking so broken, Tommy felt lost. He wished he could just blurt it out, but he knew his friend wasn’t in the right disposition.
“I-I don’t think that was right,” Tommy mumbled. “You really don’t want her to know?”
“There’s no sense in letting her know. I’d die anyway.”
“That would take years. We could still get you off the hook.”
“It’s Leone.”
“What?!” Tommy’s voice boomed unexpectedly, prompting the woman nearby to cast a fleeting glance in their direction. Flustered, he averted his gaze and leaned in closer to Claude. “Wait, hold on. What do you mean it’s Leone?”
“The cops. Heard them talking about it. Paid the judge.”
Tommy’s open palms transformed into clenched fists, his knuckles whitening as he wrestled to rein in his anger. “I can get you out.”
Disappointment hinted at Claude’s response, his expression carrying hopelessness. “You know how it is, Tommy. This ain’t Vice City.”
“Why don’t you just fucking try–”
“Tommy…” Claude’s voice cut in, low and almost imploring, resignation evident. “You’ve got to protect her…”
His frustration threatened to erupt as he nearly slammed his fist onto the table. “Damn it, Speed... I shouldn’t have to,” he retorted sharply. “We’ll figure something out to get you out of here!”
“Leone will come after me. I can’t get away from her. I’ll just put her in danger.”
Tommy felt himself brace. Claude had a point; escaping might not be enough, Joey Leone remained a powerful man, his pursuit of him and Reena loomed large. Luckily, the new Don lacked the shrewdness of his father, but the web of his influence and connections was not to be underestimated.
“What do you want me to do?” Tommy finally asked.
Claude’s body leaned in, his face coming within inches of the fiberglass divider. Seen up close, his desperation was palpable. Tommy couldn’t help but notice the haunting anguish etched into his friend’s eyes. It wasn’t just a surface emotion; it seemed to seep into his very bones. The yearning for escape, for freedom, for distance was all over his face, yet, an air of misery clung to him. Claude badly wanted to get out, to escape again, to go as far away as he could, but he was already wretched.
“She can’t know I’m here. She’s just gonna blame herself.”
“But Speed–”
“I want her to live.”
“She’s in–”
“I don’t wanna know,” Claude declared firmly, leaving Tommy stunned. “I don’t wanna know anything at all. All I needed to know’s that she’s alive.”
“Listen,” Tommy implored, his voice breaking. “She can’t do this without you.”
“Reena will be fine without me. She’ll live without me. Knowing I’m alive’s like knowing I’ll die soon anyway.”
Claude leaned back without looking away, and for the first time, Tommy saw tears in the corners of his eyes.
“Are you sure about this?” Tommy probed for the last time.
Claude’s eyes fluttered, his intense gaze shifting downward to focus on his own hands. “Keep her safe. Don’t let them get her. Promise me.”
Despite the heavy weight of helplessness hanging in the air, Claude mustered a small smile. Tommy couldn’t read his thoughts, but the spark in his eyes told him that she was the only thing he had on his mind.
“Let her move on without me,” Claude murmured, and a teardrop rolled down his cheek. “Let her think I’m gone…”
Tommy found himself once again in that familiar spot, waiting for Claude’s arrival. The seat, the counter, and the fiberglass divider all remained unchanged, just as they’d been after Cleo’s first birthday. As he sat there, he grappled with how to greet his friend. Should he break into a smile? Should he mention that he’d heard about the change of verdict? But deep down, these considerations felt trivial. What truly mattered was putting an end to the uncertainty that suddenly rattled their lives. All he wanted was for this moment to pass and for closure to finally settle.
As he sat in anticipation, Tommy absentmindedly unfolded the newspaper in his hand. His eyes scanned the article detailing his friend’s release.
SCARBEIN REVERSES CONVICTED ROBBER-MURDERER DEATH SENTENCE
LIBERTY TREE NEWS BUREAU
In a surprising legal turn, Judge Oliver Scarbein, Chief of the Supreme Court of Liberty City, has overturned the death sentence of Claude Speed, a 34-year-old convicted robber-murderer. Scarbein’s decision stems from an appeal that challenged Speed’s alleged role in the Cochrane Dam Massacre during Liberty City’s 203rd Founding Anniversary in January 2002.
Having originally been sentenced to death in March 2002 after pleading guilty to 20 counts of murder, Speed’s case has taken an unexpected trajectory. The appeal, championed by a group of legal experts, prompted Scarbein to reexamine Speed’s motives and level of involvement in the massacre.
Chief of Police Alvin Green of the Liberty City Police Department (LCPD) has confirmed that the appeal’s success has led to Speed’s release. The conclusion of this legal battle also takes into account Speed’s prior conviction and the time already served. Speed’s release will not be publicized.
Tommy pinched the skin above his nose. When he went to Liberty City to meet with Asuka, he tried to get to Claude. He could still remember that day when diffidence surrounded his relationship with Reena. On the verge of giving up, he left a number after he departed from the penitentiary. Just one message, or one call… Tommy planned to come clean.
But things took a complete turn. Reena let him through, and all his plans underwent an inevitable change. It was pleasant… so pleasant that he’d forgotten about the number he left until the day he received Claude’s first voicemail. It was rather short yet certain, sending shivers down his spine. A message of adorations, apologies, and fucking sweet nothings on the very day after he and Reena renewed their vows.
Never once did he answer or pretend to be Reena in any way. He wanted Claude to think that she didn’t want to communicate with him anymore, not when she’d already accepted Tommy in her life. And his wife? She’d never discover about the phone anyway, hidden deeply in one of his drawers in the office.
The door at the back swung open. Claude emerged, his face hidden beneath a scruffy mass of hair that hadn’t seen a trim in at least a month, by Tommy’s guess. Dressed in the usual orange inmate uniform – the same one Tommy himself had worn during his time in the penitentiary – Claude wore a stern expression. Something about him had changed. He looked different, like a whole new person. If he were to come face to face with Reena, Tommy was absolutely certain she wouldn’t recognize him. There was no doubt about it; he was dead sure.
Just like old times, Claude settled across from him and held his gaze in the interim. All the rehearsed greetings that had played in Tommy’s mind vanished in the face of reality. With a reluctant sigh, he reached for the phone on his side and leaned in, resting his arms on the counter. In sync, Claude mirrored his action, appearing more prepared for conversation than ever before.
“It’s been so long, Tommy,” Claude cut him through before he could even open his mouth.
Tommy swallowed the lump building in his throat, surprised that his friend had the vigor now to converse. The look in his eyes was no longer hollow, and though still piercing and callous, it was more alive. More cognizant.
“Yeah, it has been.”
It was a shitty answer, he knew it, but he couldn’t understand why it felt like he’d lost all the words he wanted to say. Why was he suddenly tongue-tied? Why the jitters? How was he supposed to spill it all out? And honestly, why was he even here?
“Seems like you wanna talk, but you can’t.”
“Sorry, I–” Tommy stumbled once more. He had to pull himself together, to steel his resolve. He just had to say what needed saying. “I’m glad you’re getting out.”
He was, and partly, he was not. It wasn’t that he wished Claude harm. He knew what it felt like, having endured fifteen years of seclusion and resentment himself. When he finally walked out, the world had become a hostile place. He directed his loathing at Sonny, at all those responsible for his time behind bars. Having lived through the aftermath of prison, Tommy knew firsthand what Claude might be going through after more than two years of isolation, estranged from everyone he held dear.
But then again, it was Claude’s choice, wasn’t it?
“Yeah. I thought it was you, but my lawyer said you’d nothing to do with it.” Claude’s voice was demeaning and skeptical, tugging the nerves beneath his skin. “So, Tommy, tell me. Why are you here?”
The air felt thick, almost suffocating. Tommy ran his tongue over his teeth, meeting his friend’s intense gaze head-on. He cleared his throat and wet his lips before continuing.
“How did this happen?” Tommy asked, curiosity and nervousness wracking his senses. “Who’s helping you?”
Claude’s eyes flickered, a hint of hesitation there before he finally spoke, his voice measured. “Connections that I thought I didn’t have.”
Tommy’s fingers tightened around the edge of the table, his jaw clenching momentarily. He fought to mask his frustration, the tension radiating through him. “Connections, huh? That’s a vague answer.”
“That’s all there is to it,” Claude said, his lips twitching into a smile that held no amusement. “I wonder why you’re so eager to know.”
Tommy couldn’t help but feel the insult crawl beneath his skin. “It’s because we tried before and you refused us,” he rebuked, letting Claude feel a simmer of his frustration. “And now, you let your connections work things out for you, and you expect me to just understand?”
His nostrils flared, his pulse thrumming beneath the surface. He forced a casual shrug, trying to keep his tone neutral.
“You didn’t even wanna get out anymore,” Tommy growled, his body stiffening in his seat.
Something shifted in Claude’s expression. He leaned back slightly as if attempting to put a comfortable distance between them. “People change, Tommy. I changed my mind.”
Tommy’s fingers tapped against the table, his patience thinning. “So, why didn’t you tell me?”
Claude’s gaze flicked away, distant for a moment before returning, his eyes guarded. “You don’t need to know everything.”
His breath hitched, Claude’s words catching him off guard. It was as if Claude was no longer the friend he knew, the same friend who trusted him above anyone else. Before his emotions could cloud his judgment, Tommy looked left to right, cautiously checking their surroundings.
“Don’t you think it sounds suspicious?” he asked, snapping a hard look back at his friend. He slid closer, pressing his lips so tightly that he had difficulty opening them again. “What if it’s Joey Leone? What if he did something with the judge again–”
“You’re saying I shouldn’t accept the release?”
“No, no,” Tommy reiterated while shaking his head. “Take it. You’re getting the fuck out of here, but you gotta be careful, Speed. This isn’t just a coincidence.”
The words appeared to strike a chord with Claude, a flicker of comprehension evident as his shoulders eased, shedding some of their stiffness. His gaze seemed to wander, fixated on nothing in particular, lost in his own contemplations.
Then, almost unexpectedly, Claude shifted his weight, pulling his seat closer to the counter.
“How’s she?” he whispered, his once-vicious eyes mellowed, seemingly hoping for at least, a positive response. “Reena… how’s she?”
Tommy’s heart skipped a beat, a sudden and sharp jolt of fear coursing through him. Claude’s intense gaze transformed into an almost desperate plea. The mention of Reena’s name hit like a cold rush of water, stirring a whirlwind of anxiety within Tommy.
“Speed,” he said, barely making out the sounds. “Reena, she’s–”
“How’s my son?”
A sharp pang lodged itself in Tommy’s chest, a stabbing ache that seemed to steal his breath. His breathing grew uneven, and his heart thrashed wildly within his ribcage as if threatening to break free. He’d braced himself for Claude’s inquiry about her, yet the knowledge that he was also aware of Cleo’s existence was something Tommy wasn’t prepare for.
“She’s… they’re fine, doing very well,” he replied as briefly as he could, finding himself unwilling to let on more information.
“Why didn’t you tell me we had a son?”
Tommy’s brows knitted, a tight pinch forming in the middle. The rhythmic thud of his temples seemed to echo against his forehead and the roughness of his scruff. There was an urge within him, a push to respond with an edge, a bristling reaction that he sensed Claude wouldn’t appreciate.
“Let me rephrase it for you, Speed,” he said, his hand fumbling for the knot of his tie, loosening the bind that suffocated him. “Between you and me, who said that he didn’t wanna know anything?”
Everything began to coil like a taut spring, each passing second winding it tighter. The air felt like dense silence, filled with unease. It was as if the room had shrunk, the distance between their positions feeling narrower.
“Does she know I’m getting out?” Claude asked.
“I don’t know,” Tommy retorted, casting Claude an unyielding glare. “It seems like you already forgot all the things you asked us to do–”
Claude’s hand crashed onto the counter with a sudden, sharp thud. Startled, Tommy instinctively jerked backward, his gaze locking onto the unexpected display of force. “I wanna see them when I get out, Tommy.”
A vivid image of shattering the fiberglass barrier with a powerful punch, the fragments scattering started to play in Tommy’s mind. He envisioned himself seizing Claude by the collar, delivering a resounding blow to his face. The surge of anger was relentless. How could Claude, after all he had put them through, dare to ask about her? How could he, after years of separation, dare to demand to see her and Cleo?
“No, Speed,” Tommy’s answer was immediate, leaving no room for doubt. “Reena… she has a familynow.”
It seemed like Claude’s breathing stopped, but the veins along his forehead and neck began to throb. The warmth of anger flushed his face, a noticeable contrast against his beard and mustache. His fingers gouged into the concrete counter beneath his hands, his nails scraping the surface as his fists clenched.
“A family?” Claude mumbled, but the firmness of his voice established enough volume for Tommy to hear his words clearly. “She has a family?!”
“Reena needed to move on. It took her a while. A year of therapy before she was able to take another step forward–”
“I told you to protect her…”
“Just like I promised, I did. She’s safe. She and your son are safe. Both of them are living a new life somewhere… with her husband.”
Claude’s control seemed to fracture as his hand shot forward, colliding with the unforgiving surface of the fiberglass divider. The impact reverberated through the air. His face whitened as his mouth parted, fingers splayed against the barrier.
“What did you say?!” he asked, his gawking eyes turning red. “What the fuck did you say?!”
Tommy’s path was clear: he needed to make Claude understand that going back to Reena was impossible. He couldn’t allow even a hint of hope to linger in Claude’s mind. If it meant causing him pain, so be it.
“She has a husband now, Speed.”
Claude’s face churned in several ways, a mixture of emotions he couldn’t get himself a hold of. Dread, resentment, misery, and disbelief intertwined, a whirlwind that swiftly drained his resolve.
Before Tommy, time seemed to blur as he bore witness to the shattering of Claude’s heart. The silent anguish that emanated from Claude’s being was palpable, a pain that resonated even within Tommy.
Yet, he’d rather see Claude crumble than subject himself to that fate.
Tommy didn’t know how long it took Claude to calm down, or at least, got himself perched up despite the tears that filled his eyes. His fists and jaw were clenched, his face bearing traces of the storm that had passed. Tears glistened in his eyes, but the reddened, slightly swollen skin around them lingered even after the flowing of his tears ceased.
Claude’s mouth fluttered open and stuttered words slipped. “Where is she?” he asked, his voice trembling in every syllable. “Is… is she in Vice City?”
Tommy bowed his head, keeping the phone in his ear. “No,” he denied. “She left long ago with her family.”
Life before realizing what he truly wanted was meaningless to Tommy. He had almost everything – power, money, rank, and women – but they seemed to just fill the void left by all the betrayal, resentment, and loneliness that had brought him. He was sailing his boat to nowhere, making a name in the world he built, yielding fear and respect from the people that surrounded him, yet they were all a speck of dust on the pads of his fingers.
But Reena came. She’d been the spark that set his life ablaze, a force that had shattered the mundane patterns he’d grown used to. Her arrival to his life brought a glow into his days, splashing colors he never knew existed. Everything he ever believed in life was replaced by a newfound desire. She was what he wanted and needed, and he was ready to give up anything… everything if it meant he could keep her and their family.
“Listen,” Tommy’s voice was a quiet murmur. “If you need my help, I can provide that to you.”
Their eyes connected in a moment. With a deliberate motion, Tommy moved the phone away from his ear, returning it to its cradle on the switchboard. It was a release, a conscious step to distance himself from the words Claude had yet to utter.
Rising from his seat, Tommy buttoned his suit and adjusted its lapels. He drew a card from his pocket and placed it on the surface. His gaze returned to Claude, studying his friend once more. Claude remained seated still, burdened by an invisible weight, lost in the depths of his thoughts, his resolve destroyed.
Tommy steeled himself – this was the direction he had to take. Pity welled within him for his friend, a sorrow that tugged at his heartstrings, yet he refused to succumb to self-pity.
With a decisive gesture, Tommy’s palm met the cold surface of the fiberglass, pressing it against the barrier firmly as a silent farewell. Claude’s gaze lifted, void of light and life, but Tommy avoided lingering there. He tore his eyes away, pivoting on his heels to leave.
He refused to let his own life crumble. Never.
Notes:
This is in reference to A Little Too Late.
Thank you so much for reading <3
Chapter 82: Desperate Measures
Chapter Text
LEIGH FOLLOWED REENA into the bedroom, the door snicking softly as it closed behind him. She gestured to him hurriedly, imploring him to come closer. In return, he sighed, each step he took showed the weight of his reluctance. Reena secured the charger in the socket by the bedside table and extended her hand once more.
“Come on, don’t tell me you didn’t get it?” she asked, lifting an eyebrow.
“I got it, Miss, of course, but… Boss’s gonna kill me.”
Reena stood straight and put a hand on her waist. “Marcus left, right?”
“Yes...”
“And you closed the door? Locked it?” She pointed behind him.
Leigh nodded while his lips tightened.
“Good, then, give it to me…”
Despite the turmoil etched on his face, Leigh drew near and passed her the phone. With the device now in her grasp, Reena deftly turned it over, her focus honing in on the opening meant for plugging in the charger.
“I hope this fits…” she murmured to herself, determined to make the phone turn on whatever it would take. To her astonishment, however, the screen displayed a solid green bar, confirming without a doubt that it was fully charged. Caught off guard, Reena stood upright and shared an incredulous look with Leigh.
It wasn’t an old phone forgotten in the drawer.
She heard Tommy as clear as day. Upon getting Cleo back into the nursery, she remembered that they were making coffee, realizing that she’d forgotten what they were doing in the kitchen in the first place. In a hurry, she dashed back into the foyer, meeting Leigh halfway, but when she reached the hall that led to the kitchen, she saw Marcus standing there and heard Tommy’s voice.
Make sure no one knows where I’m going, especially my wife.
Reena found herself seeking refuge behind the threshold of the hallway, her body pressing against the wall’s surface, careful to minimize any hint of her presence.
Uncertainty crept back into her thoughts, gnawing at her like an old ache. They’d only recently patched things up, and here was her husband, hiding matters from her once more.
Is he still seeing Mercedes?
As much as Reena hesitated to jump to conclusions, a knot of unease and frustration was steadily winding up within her. After all the Love Fist nonsense, the romantic date nights, and the intimate moments they’d shared, Tommy was once more seemingly slipping away in secrecy. For what purpose? Who could he be meeting with if not the woman he cheated on her with?
If she were to uncover yet another instance of him being involved with Mercedes, this time, Reena resolved to stand firm. She’d refuse to accept it any longer. If Tommy couldn’t bring himself to be honest and open with her, to be loyal and faithful to her, then she saw no reason to be foolish.
“Are you sure about this, Miss Reena?”
“He wouldn’t be keeping this phone in a locked drawer if it meant nothing.”
She pretended to be fine with everything. This morning, she got everything ready for Tommy. She made him breakfast. She helped him choose his clothes. She brushed his hair and knotted his necktie. Looking back, it became evident that Tommy’s sudden peculiar actions from yesterday – his absent-mindedness in the kitchen, the detachment in their conversation, and the change in his demeanor – were gradually intensifying her suspicions.
As soon as he kissed her goodbye, Reena started dipping her toes into the pond. Leigh was the first one she’d asked if he knew about the phone, but he said he didn’t. She also asked if he knew about Tommy’s business trip, to which Leigh replied that Marcus told him about it but nothing more.
Connecting the dots, she figured out that Tommy and Marcus were both covering up for each other.
If she couldn’t make Marcus tell her the truth, then she and Leigh would find out.
Reena tapped the button on the side, and the phone came to life, its screen displaying a friendly greeting. A sudden beep caught both her and Leigh off guard, prompting her to quickly press the side button to lower the volume. The screen took its time to load, circular lines twirling on the monochrome display. Reena held the device with a firm grip, a growing unease nesting in her chest as she observed it with apprehension.
Then, the phone’s home screen appeared. The signal bar remained vacant, but the other features appeared to be functioning smoothly. The analog clock displayed the correct time, the battery indicator was active, and the word MENU stood out prominently on the screen.
Suppressing the lump that had formed in her throat, Reena pressed the menu button. It revealed several icons: settings, photos, games, and more. She scrolled downward until the messaging icon came into view, and then she clicked it, anticipation and unease coursing through her veins.
Leigh peered over her shoulder. “That phone looks familiar to me, Miss.”
“Really?” she asked, but she barely even looked up.
As she accessed the inbox, a flood of memories greeted her – her and Tommy’s conversations years ago during her isolation remained intact, proof that he hadn’t deleted them since the start. Yet, alongside those were a series of messages from an unknown number, some insinuating, some threatening.
It was Tommy’s phone that held his old number, the one he’d claimed to have changed, the reason why he hadn’t called her for a month before showing up at the doorstep of her house in Angel Pine.
He didn’t dispose of it, after all.
She hit the back button and navigated to the call logs. The screen revealed a series of opened voicemails, all originating from varying digits. The most recent one was from a few days ago, still left unopened. The rest dated back to January, with a frequency of one to two voicemails per month.
A surge of fear rippled through her chest, growing with every passing moment. Her head spun as memories rushed back, vividly recalling the time when she caught him red-handed with Mercedes. It was around that very same time. The fact that the voicemails had started arriving during that period felt too coincidental to ignore.
Reena’s fingers danced across the screen as she searched through the contacts. Her gaze was steady, yet her hand trembled in every move, her heart quickening in each second that passed.
Finally, her eyes caught the name she was looking for. Her number seemed to stare back at her.
In a swift motion, she retrieved her own phone from the nearby surface, deftly copying the digits.
“Are you planning to call her, Miss?” Leigh asked, his voice tinged with skepticism. “We’re not sure if that was still her number–”
“I have to try,” she firmly replied.
“What about… that voicemail?”
A spark of curiosity ignited within her. The screen loaded after she opened the voicemail. It took a few seconds before a minute phone call registered. She turned the volume up so Leigh could listen too. In truth, Reena didn’t know what she expected to hear. Did she anticipate listening to a woman’s voice just as she suspected? Was she supposed to find out something that Tommy was keeping from her?
The thoughts that began to fill her mind made her stomach churn. Her hands waned, her grip loosening, inadvertently causing the device to slip to the ground, making a loud thud.
Reena scampered to pick it up, but when she tried to press a button, the device began to falter, its screen dimming abruptly. She tapped the screen, hoping for a revival, but the phone remained unresponsive. She tried to unplug and plug the charger again, to remove and put the battery back, but it didn’t make a difference. The phone remained dead.
The moment seemed to conspire against her.
Ire coursed through her, an exasperated sigh escaping her lips. Frustration knotted her brows as she muttered a curse under her breath. Everything was thwarted by a simple malfunction, leaving her grappling with both the broken phone and her soon-to-be broken heart.
As fast as she could, Reena removed the charger from the socket. Instead of giving the phone back to Leigh, she hid it in the drawer of the bedside table.
“Miss, I have to return the phone!”
She patted his chest. “No, you don’t have to. I’ll take care of it.”
There was a faint yet very distinct doubt that she refused to nurture, but it was the kind of doubt she couldn’t turn away from. She wanted to know if Tommy was still seeing Mercedes, for what it was worth. The urge to confront her husband tormented her chest. Why would he be keeping this phone in his locked drawer? Why was he hiding such a thing from her? And why, for God’s sake, was he lying to her again?
She wasn’t letting the night end without knowing the truth.
Reena settled onto the couch at the bed’s foot, the moonlight streaming through the expansive window. The clock had long struck past midnight when Leigh informed her of Marcus’s departure to the airport. She couldn’t sleep, even at this late hour, not after what she found. The round candle she’d ignited and positioned on the drawer’s surface had since extinguished, the faint jasmine aroma it emitted dwindling into the room’s atmosphere.
Only a couple of times did Tommy send her a message. He didn’t call her either. Ken Rosenberg sent her even more messages than Tommy did, telling her that he’d be coming to Vice City soon and that they should meet as if she cared.
Where was Tommy that he couldn’t make a damn call?
The book on her lap remained open, but for hours, she hadn’t turned the pages. The pale light coming from the lamp on the bedside table barely glowed on the texts, making it hard for her to read, an excuse she made for herself. Her finger would flick the corner of the page as if she was going to flip it, but she’d feel the edge scraping on the pads of her finger.
Something shuffled softly outside. Reena’s gaze darted toward the door, her attention on high alert. In her grip, the book’s page felt fragile, her fingers almost tearing through it. The doorknob turned with a slight twist. She held her breath, she clenched a page – her eyes remained fixated on the door, seeing her husband’s head bowing as he stepped through the doorway.
Tommy appeared utterly drained. His once-immaculate suit was now disheveled, his usually neat hair a cascade of unruliness. His necktie hung loosely around his neck; the knot nestled just beneath the two undone buttons of his inner shirt. A glint of a gold chain necklace shimmered against his chest.
Such a mess for a business trip.
Lifting his head, his weary eyes widened as they locked onto Reena’s.
“Y-You’re still awake…” he said in surprise, yet gradually, a faint snicker played on his lips. With a casual gesture, he let his bag slip from his grasp, allowing it to thud softly onto the floor. “Are you waiting for me?”
He closed the door, the bolt clicking firmly as he pushed it shut, and with a swift motion, he kicked off his shoes. Slowly, he inched closer to her, his palms resting on the couch’s armrests as he leaned down to kiss her forehead. Reena closed her eyes, but as he leaned in for a deeper kiss, she subtly tilted her head away.
A chuckle escaped Tommy’s lips. He leaned in once more, but Reena extended a hand, placing it gently on his chest and urging pushing him away slightly.
“I’m not in the mood right now...”
The excitement in Tommy’s face seemed to wane. “What’s wrong?”
Reena rose, and Tommy instinctively took a step back, making room for her to pass. Reena folded the book shut as she made her way toward the bedside table. She pulled the drawer open, placing the book inside, just beside the phone.
Then, her fingers closed around the device. A deep exhale escaped her, releasing the tension she’d been holding, as she turned on her heel to face Tommy once again.
Reena bit her lip as she swept her hair behind her ears. The dim light of the lamp half-shone on Tommy’s face, though his eyes remained a bit shaded. He looked rather stunned, seemingly wanting to open his mouth to speak. Tommy took a step forward, his intention to speak palpable, but as Reena retreated, he paused, seemingly sensing her desire for distance.
She didn’t want to do it. Everything was perfect since they got back together, and Tommy always filled her with a passionate love that just got stronger each time. However, when she overheard him in the kitchen, the tables turned in a full circle.
“Where did you go?” she asked.
Her question seemed to catch him off guard. He brushed his fingers through his hair, combing the strands up. Tommy put a hand on his waist, the smile on his face looked forced. “I-I told you, it’s business.”
Her jaw quivered. “Where?”
“Why? I don’t understand, Reena–”
“Is it so hard to tell me where you’ve gone?!”
Tommy’s hands dropped to his sides; his fists clenched. “Liberty City,” he murmured.
His response was a mere whisper, his lips barely parting, and Reena found herself grappling with uncertainty over whether to trust his words. The aroma of his cologne permeated the air more strongly than the delicate jasmine scent that had been filling the room, intensifying his presence. More assured. More authoritative.
It was only now that she truly noticed his towering height. He seemed to loom above her, casting his shadow over her body. For the first time, his presence felt heavy, almost foreboding. It wrapped around her head with an impending unease, something she hadn’t felt from him before – not even when he stood before her.
Whatever happened to him in Liberty City – or wherever the fuck he went – changed him again.
“I heard you talking to Marcus yesterday,” she mumbled, unable to keep it any longer. “Why can’t I know where you’re going?”
Tommy’s eyes grew large. “I told you. I went to Liberty City.”
Reena’s grip on the phone tightened even further, her knuckles almost white. As if it had its own mind, her hand lifted, showing the device to him.
“What’s this for?”
Unlike Claude, Tommy wore his emotions on his sleeve. Most of the time, Reena could read his face, pick up on his tone, and understand his movements. She knew what his smiles meant, or what he was gesturing with his hands, or the hidden messages in his words.
But now, confusion clouded her perception.
His face seemed hardened, his eyes radiating an intense fury. His lips were drawn back, exposing his teeth, and veins stood out on his neck and forehead. The man in front of her didn’t resemble the one she’d known for three years.
“Where did you get that?” he asked, his voice stern and rather threatening.
He never spoke this way toward her.
She held her chin up, feeling her heart skip beats. “I asked first. What’s this for?”
Tommy advanced, his footsteps dragging heavily across the floor. He extended his hand. “Give it to me.”
Reena had never felt fear in Tommy’s presence, not even when he arrived in Angel Pine and eliminated the men who posed a threat to her safety, not during the rescue from the Juju woman’s clutches, and not even when he disposed of the attackers who targeted her in the showroom. Those instances had unveiled his darker side, revealing the extent of his ruthlessness, yet his actions were never directed at her – until now.
“Answer me first, Tommy,” she said, almost shouting. “What is this for–”
With a sudden movement, Tommy lunged forward and snagged the phone from her grip. No matter how firmly she clung to it, her strength proved futile to him. It all happened too fast, her vision catching only fragments.
The phone was flung against the wall. The collision shattered the device, fragments of the screen splintering and scattering, the battery and components dispersing as if in a chaotic explosion. Reena instinctively flinched at the sound and sight, the once-functional object was now rendered irreparable, and its parts were strewn across the floor.
Her breath hitched in her throat, and as her eyes blinked in rapid succession, tears traced their path down her cheeks. Her mouth seemed incapable of closing, and a silent gasp locked in her chest. It was as if her entire body had turned to stone, rooted in place, anchoring her with helplessness. Her feet might as well have been fused with the ground, making her unable to make a move.
Reena sensed her head trembling. She lifted her eyes back to Tommy, her gaze meeting his once more. He looked triumphant, yet his glare held more than just victory.
“What did you find there?” he asked, resembling a low growl.
Reena’s gaze flickered to the other side of the bed. Despite the uncertainty that clenched her knees, she propelled herself forward, striding past him, her focus set on reaching the door. She circled the bed, aiming for the exit.
As her hand reached out to grasp the door handle, a sudden force stopped her. Tommy’s hand landed with a resounding thud on the door’s surface, thwarting her attempt to pull it open. She pivoted on her heel, pressing her back against the surface, keeping her distance as she pushed herself further away from him.
“Let me get out–”
“What did you find in the phone?” he reiterated, his voice trembling. “Tell me.”
Her fingernails dug into her palms. She tried to subdue her desire to slap him in the face. With her eyes stinging, Reena lifted her head, determined to show him what his actions were doing to her.
“Do you use it to talk to Mercedes?!” Her jaw shook badly. “Or to your other women?!”
In a mere heartbeat, his eyes softened, his seething fury replaced by astonishment. “What?”
Her hands clawed on the door behind her, feeling her nails scraping on the texture. “Why are you hiding that phone in your drawer?”
The wounds of the past, the memory of catching him in a compromising situation, left her haunted by doubts that seemed to lurk around every corner of their renewed relationship. Each moment rekindled was shadowed by the fear that the past might repeat itself. Questions of loyalty, honesty, and the lingering doubt of whether he was deserving of the trust she was striving to rebuild were whispered in her head.
“Did you see her today?”
Tommy’s shoulders slackened, and even his hand that pressed against the door began to slide down.
“Don’t lie to me, Tommy…” Her gaze drifted down his chest, trying so hard to understand the state of a mess he was in. “Why are your clothes and your hair like that?” Reena swallowed the growing lump in her throat. “Was it wild?!”
“Why would you think about that?” Tommy answered, his once stern voice breaking as he spoke.
Reena felt a tear roll down her face. “Just tell me the truth–”
Tommy’s hands caught her face, his lips forcefully colliding with hers. Reena instinctively resisted, but his grip was unyielding, his strength overwhelming, and despite her efforts to push him away again, Tommy persisted in his fervent kiss.
“I didn’t, baby…” he said in between their breaths, filling her lips with zealousness and words of assurances. “Please, believe me, I didn’t…”
“It never went away,” she retorted with her eyes closed, feeling the pain in her chest. “I always remember it–”
Tommy’s grip on her intensified as he seized her hips, effortlessly lifting her and pressing her against the door. Any remaining words she might have spoken were stifled, drowned out by the intensity of his actions. He rained kisses across her, enveloping her in his embrace. With a deliberate, unhurried motion, he began to raise the hems of her nightgown, his touch igniting a cascade of sensations. The press of his body against the apex of her thighs left her senses reeling, desire and apprehension pulsing through her veins.
“I never did that… I’ll never do that to you…”
Reena’s hold tightened on the lapels of his suit, a surge of urgency propelling her to draw him closer. Meeting the vigor of his kiss with her own, she parted his lips with the warm press of her tongue, and he eagerly reciprocated. Her hands ventured lower and found the waistband of his pants, deftly undoing his belt and zipper. The tension of his trousers eased, and he shed them, allowing them to pool at his ankles. His cock emerged, pulsing and insistent, his readiness palpable as it throbbed against her touch.
“Prove to me that I’m the only one you want…” she whispered in his ear.
Tommy’s fingers traced a scorching path down the curve of her thighs, his touch seeking her point. With a knowing caress, he shifted aside her knickers, granting himself access to her flesh. A shudder rippled through Reena as his fingers danced over her clit. Lost in the intensity of the moment, she instinctively lifted her leg, offering him a more uninhibited passage to the depths of her core.
Her eyes widened as he entered her, his girth filling her completely, stretching her inner walls to their limits. She clung to his shoulders, seeking an anchor as pleasure and discomfort surged through her as his powerful thrusts hit her mound.
Taking charge, Tommy carried her across the room to the bed, laying her on the mattress. There, he shifted his grip to the crook of her knees, parting her legs wider. She closed her eyes, letting her moans escape her mouth like she always did. He pounced into her, rougher and hungrier, growling in her ear as if he was always on the edge. While he did, her nails dug deep into his back, replaying the memory of seeing him that day.
Her walls began to clench. Reena let out a high-pitched whine come out of her mouth, joining Tommy’s deep hurls. As heat rippled down her center, he panted in her ears, pounding harder as he followed over the edge.
The room resonated with their moans. Their bodies were slick with sweat and their legs tangled together, breathing raggedly against each other’s shoulders.
“Oh, Reena…”
She shut her eyes tightly. Tommy’s arms held her close, his pace slowing as his cock twitched inside her. He continued to move his hips in a gentle rhythm, the aftershock of their sudden passion coursing through her body.
After a moment, he eased himself down beside her, drawing her into his embrace. His face nuzzled into the curve of her neck, his lips pressing fervent kisses against her skin.
“If you knew what I did just to have you…” he whispered in her ear. “You’d never doubt me again…”
Reena knew that Tommy loved her, and she loved him too, but love wasn’t sufficient to fill in the gaps made by his secrets. She felt so stupid for giving in, but her emotions were teeming, her fear of losing him wrapping around her head. A part of her wanted to be rational, but the vision still lingered, torturing her each time.
But soon, she’d find out more. After all, she had a number to call.
Until then, she’d give him the benefit of the doubt.
Notes:
Thank you so much for reading <3
Chapter 83: White Lies
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
REENA STOOD BEFORE the repair shop, her hand gripping her purse tightly. Taking a hesitant breath, she entered and smiled at the attendant stationed at the counter. The attendant’s eyes seemed a bit tired, as if returning her greeting was the last thing he wanted to do. He managed a beam that was clearly forced, his hands opening with minimal enthusiasm to welcome her.
“Hi. How can I help you?”
She opened her purse and retrieved the zip lock bag that contained the broken phone, sliding it on the counter toward the attendant. “I want this to get fixed,” she said.
The attendant nonchalantly took the device and brought it to a desk in a corner. Reena remained standing before the counter, her fingers drumming on the surface as she waited.
Tommy seemed to think she’d pry no more. She herself thought as well, but after a few days, she proved herself wrong. There was something on the phone that Tommy evidently didn’t want her to discover. If it was no big deal, he would’ve just thrown it out, or he wouldn’t have collected all the broken bits and stashed them where he thought she’d never look. But Leigh had sneakily retrieved it all for her, passing her the busted phone in secret, giving her the chance to go out and get it fixed, just so she could have peace of mind.
Somehow, Leigh tried to talk her out of it, but Reena was steadfast. Merely acquiring a probably inactive number and attempting an improbable meeting wasn’t sufficient. Everything that happened between her and Tommy had taught her a valuable lesson.
She couldn’t afford to lower her defenses, and this was one of those instances.
The attendant approached her, his eyes still heavy-laden. “It’s an old phone. You sure you wanna waste your money to have it repaired?” he asked.
“It has a sentimental value.”
A mocking grin laced his mouth. “Suit yourself…”
In uncareful scribblings, the attendant wrote her a receipt and a date when to claim it. It would take two more days, but what mattered most was it could be fixed, and she’d have the chance to listen to whatever voicemails were hidden there.
“Can you retrieve deleted voicemails too?”
“Ain’t sure about that, lady,” the attendant said, staring at her hand as she drew bills from her wallet. “I’ll charge you extra if I did.”
“Yeah, sure. Thank you.”
Reena exited the repair shop, her heart ticking like a time bomb. She glanced at her wristwatch and saw that it was almost time, urging her to hurry toward the rendezvous.
The memory of what had stirred up these feelings wouldn’t fade. So, yesterday, she took a big step. She texted the number she found on Tommy’s old phone, suggesting a time and place to meet. No reply came – no text, no call. Still, Reena was determined. She’d be there, and if she showed up too, maybe a simple conversation could put some of her inner chaos to rest.
As she stepped out of Washington Mall, a vast expanse of lush greenery and meticulously lined pathways greeted her, its iconic monuments and memorials looming in the distance. Reena’s footsteps thumped against the rough pavement as she made her way to the meeting spot. The afternoon sun cast a warm, golden glow over the shore, painting long shadows that seemed to stretch toward her. The fluttering leaves seemed to match her heart’s, sending shivers down her spine.
Her phone vibrated. One from Tommy, inquiring about what time she’d be at home, and the other from Ken Rosenberg, inquiring about her availability for the next week. Reena swiftly responded to her husband, assuring him of her soon return, before stowing her phone back into her pocket, dismissing Ken Rosenberg’s message without a second thought.
She felt her legs stiffen when she found her seated at one of the tables. Holding her breath, Reena realized that no matter how many times she rehearsed herself for this moment, she could never control the kind of response her body would make.
Her heart raced as she approached Mercedes. Seeing her brought a rush of memories, both painful and uncertain, flooding back. Reena took a steadying breath and cleared her throat before speaking.
“Miss Cortez,” she greeted, struggling to find enthusiasm in her voice.
Mercedes turned, her gaze meeting Reena’s without flinching. There was a calm assurance in her eyes that Reena had always found both intimidating and intriguing.
“Reena,” Mercedes replied, her tone measured but warm. “I’m surprised you got my number.” With a cascade of jet-black hair and sharp, observant eyes, Mercedes exuded an air of undeniable confidence. Every movement she made seemed deliberate, making her thoughts more elusive to read.
In slow motion, Reena positioned herself opposite Mercedes. She raised her hand, and a waitress promptly made her way to their table. She placed an order for two glasses of juice and slices of cake, hoping that the treats might help steer the conversation and prevent an uncomfortable silence from settling in.
Despite the swift arrival of their food and drinks, an awkward stillness lingered between Reena and Mercedes. The clinking of utensils just seemed to amplify silence, with Reena’s eyes occasionally meeting Mercedes’s, and then darting away, unsure of where to settle. The cake slices sat untouched, though, and the drink did no help to quell the dryness in Reena’s throat.
The cool breeze from the beach blew through her in a comforting way, though it wasn’t enough to dampen her sweating and trembling. Reena tried to take the fork on the left side, pushing herself to taste the cake she ordered, but it slipped from her fingers, clanking against the saucer in such a way that couldn’t be ignored.
“I supposed Tommy didn’t know you were meeting with me?” Mercedes probed, her gaze fixed on the glass she was holding.
“Yes, he didn’t know,” Reena replied, but her attempt to conceal her nervousness was, at best, in vain.
Mercedes lifted and inclined her head, her expression thoughtful. “I’ve been hoping for the chance to speak with you too.”
Reena’s gaze locked onto Mercedes’s eyes. She observed a faint tremor in Mercedes’s hand, making it known that they shared a common unease. Taking a deep breath, Reena summoned her determination and began to gather her thoughts.
“Are you with Tommy the other day?”
“Is that why you asked to meet me?”
Reena’s breath came in heavily, her chest feeling as though it might tear, struggling to draw in air. “So, you were with him?” she repeated, her voice on the verge of breaking, her barely contained emotions simmering beneath the façade she was putting on.
Mercedes looked at her, and the expression she was putting on eventually withered away, her features softening, her eyes mellowing.
“No, I wasn’t. Since that day, I never saw Tommy again.”
The words Mercedes spoke brought a definite relief to Reena, causing her to lose her tight clutch to the napkin on the table. Learning that they were not together when she suspected they were seemed to pluck out a thorn stuck in her throat.
“If you’re thinking we’re still meeting, I assure you, Reena. You have nothing to worry about–”
“I had nothing to worry about until I saw the two of you that day,” she cut Mercedes through, locking eyes with her in spite of the sting she felt. “I never doubted Tommy until I saw what you were doing with my own eyes...”
Mercedes bowed her head, lips pressing into a thin line as her fingers toyed with the tablecloth. Reena’s gaze remained trained on the woman across from her. She’d struggled for months to convince herself that Tommy’s mistake wasn’t Mercedes’s responsibility, yet she couldn’t entirely absolve her. Somewhere within, a notion remained – a belief that perhaps Mercedes was more aware of her actions than Reena had initially allowed herself to admit.
“You won’t believe me, I know,” Mercedes started, her words trailing into a momentary pause as she seemingly wrestled with her thoughts. Looking at Reena appeared to be a challenge for her, and when she did, Reena was taken aback to discover a hint of redness in her eyes, glistening with tears.
Reena felt a surge of conflicting emotions. Should she offer comfort? Should she reassure Mercedes that things were okay?
But the truth was, things were not okay.
“I’d find it hard to,” Reena responded. “But I wanna hear everything from you.”
For a moment, Mercedes halted, and then she brushed her knuckles beneath her eyes, wiping away her tears tenderly. She leaned back against the seat, seemingly opening herself to anything. “Whatever happened that day, whatever you saw,” she said, her voice trailing off, “was all my doing, not Tommy’s.”
Reena shook her head. She wasn’t accepting it. “Tommy… he’s a grown man.” She stared Mercedes directly in the eye. “What he did was his choice, and it’s not for you to take–”
“I used to hate you,” Mercedes suddenly said, causing Reena to stop. The way she said it, however, didn’t match the kind of emotion she was showing. There was no hate, no resentment, just pure regret and frustration.
“Used to?” Reena retorted, letting a smirk creep on her lips.
“Yes, until I realized… I hated myself, not you.”
This wasn’t how she imagined their conversation would be. They remained seated, detached from the bustling world around them. Everything moved in a blur, customers chatting in whispers, waitstaff hurrying with trays, and the aroma of coffee lingering in the air, yet they sat in stillness.
“Do you know what he did when he realized what was going on?” Mercedes leaned close to her, placing her arm on the table. “He pushed me away, giving me no chance to do what I thought I wanted.”
“He kissed and touched you.”
“Yes, but I did it first. I took advantage of the moment,” she murmured, her eyes lowering, then she lifted them back up again. “I knew you weren’t around. I knew you weren’t on good terms.”
“That doesn’t change what he did–”
“Do you know what he said after he pushed me away?” A faint smile graced Mercedes’s lips, a beam that surrendered to a painful reality. “Even if I told him I never forgot him, even if I was holding him by the neck?”
Every nerve within Reena froze, locking her in place.
“I can’t, Mercedes. I love my wife.”
Tommy had said a lot of things to her and tried to assure her of every single thing he thought she needed to know, but she just realized that none of them mattered until she heard it from Mercedes herself. Out of the blue, Reena felt something trace down her cheek, her heart fluttering beneath her ribcage.
“What I did was wrong,” Mercedes continued, her gaze now calmer than ever. “And I’m sorry for hurting you the way I did.”
It seemed like everything Reena believed about Mercedes changed. She didn’t know if she was just being vulnerable, easily swayed by the words spoken to her, but somehow, she felt no bitterness at all, her doubts fading away with the blowing wind.
Maybe, there was really nothing to worry about anything at all. Maybe, she should trust Mercedes’s words, holding onto them like they were a promise. And maybe, Tommy was being honest with her in everything, giving her no reasons to doubt at all.
“Wherever Tommy had been while you were looking for him, if he deemed it’s best you didn’t know, then, you should believe him.” Mercedes took the glass of juice and sipped a generous amount of the drink, and the sigh that she emitted right after proved that her thirst had been quenched. “In the kind of work he does, it’s in your best interest not to know everything.”
Reena found herself smiling, agreeing with Mercedes inadvertently. There was still a pinch in her chest, but it didn’t hurt that much anymore.
Mercedes turned her gaze to the horizon, captivated by the sun’s radiant embrace over the rippling water. A contented smile played on her lips, and the soothing sense of satisfaction she exuded resonated with Reena. Drawn into the same view, Reena followed suit, fixing her eyes on the sea’s beauty.
“Can I hold your hand?”
Mercedes’s question emerged unexpectedly, breaking the tranquil air. Her gaze, once fixed on the horizon, returned to Reena. Reena remained silent, but she instinctively extended her hand toward Mercedes.
Their hands found a quiet comfort in each other’s hold.
“You know, you did something to Tommy that none of the women he’d been with, including me, was able to do…”
Reena felt a slight furrow form between her eyebrows, her curiosity peaking as she pondered. “What is it?”
“He was never vulnerable, but you made him in a good way.”
As they sat across from each other, holding each other’s hands tenderly, Reena felt a lot better. Her heart softened as she looked at Mercedes, seeing a side of her she hadn’t glimpsed before – the side that truly cared for her and Tommy’s happiness.
“Maybe, in another life, we would’ve been good friends,” Reena muttered, her hand squeezing Mercedes’s.
Mercedes’s eyes reflected astonishment. She instinctively tightened in response to the tender squeeze. “It doesn’t have to be in another life.”
Moments passed before their hands finally released each other. They finished their food and drink in silence, and in some way, the cake tasted delectable than it was minutes ago.
“I’m moving back to my father’s country,” Mercedes said as she gathered her things, drawing out her purse and placing bills on the table.
“Where?” Reena asked. She placed her fingers on the bill and slid them back to Mercedes, telling the latter without a word that she’d take care of it.
Mercedes offered a small smile, shrugged casually, and retrieved her money. As her purse closed, she flicked her hair behind her shoulders. “Costa Rica. It’s stunning,” she remarked, her voice carrying a hint of nostalgia.
“Are you coming back?”
Reena thought she glimpsed a trace of loneliness in Mercedes’s eyes. No further words were exchanged, but Reena understood what she meant.
“May I ask, what did you name your child?”
Reena let her gaze drift as she thought of her baby girl, waiting for her to come home. “Tamia,” she mumbled.
Mercedes seemed satisfied, nodding as she tucked her hair behind her ear. “Tommy’s little princess, I see.”
As Mercedes rose from her seat, Reena’s gaze followed her. She took a step away from the table, her movements graceful yet weighed down by a lingering heaviness. Just as Reena began to prepare herself, Mercedes halted mid-stride and then turned around.
“Do you know, by any chance, if Tommy’s still speaking with Ken Rosenberg?”
Reena’s eyebrows furrowed slightly, caught off guard by the unexpected question. She hesitated, her eyes narrowing as she considered the question. As her thoughts raced to understand why Mercedes was asking, Reena’s demeanor remained composed.
“No,” she replied, withholding the detail that she herself still did.
Mercedes looked relieved. “Good,” she said, then she spun on her heels and left the café.
Reena’s gaze lingered on the spot where Mercedes had disappeared into the crowd. Just the previous night, she’d been half-certain that Tommy was hiding something. Now, she grappled with a sharp pang of regret for ever doubting him.
Shame tightened its grip on her chest, twisting her stomach into knots, and she couldn’t help but rue her own lack of trust. Eventually, she rose from her seat and made her way home. The shame lingered, a shadow that seemed to follow her, yet a glimmer of hope also emerged – a hope that she could rebuild the trust she’d momentarily lost, not only in Tommy but also in her own judgment.
As the sun dipped toward the horizon, Reena arrived at the estate, stepping out of a cab just outside the imposing gates. Greeted by Mike, she learned that Tommy was waiting for her arrival. She asked Mike where Tommy was, and Mike told her that her husband was currently in the shed with their children.
From the balcony, Reena saw Cleo dashing around, laughing like crazy and nearly tripping while Tommy playfully chased him along the hedge maze. She chuckled as her son let out a shriek, only to have his father scoop him up in his arms, setting off a frenzy of squirming. But instead of releasing him, Tommy tickled him, his fingers dancing on Cleo’s sides, causing the boy to erupt into a fit of giggles.
Releasing her grip on the railing, she pivoted around and directed her attention to the shed. Mrs. Hubbard was there with Tamia, and when the old woman saw her, a bright smile came upon her lips.
“So, how’s the spa?”
Reena forced a smile as a response, determined to hide where she truly went. “Good, but I missed the kids.”
“I’m going to get you some tea,” Mrs. Hubbard said, then she rose from her seat and touched Reena’s shoulder before walking past her.
Tamia let out soft coos from her stroller, her eyes fixated on the hanging shapes above her, clearly captivated by the twirling and tinkling forms. Reena crouched down, her hand tenderly stroking her baby’s head, fingers gliding through the fine strands of dark brown hair, a trait inherited from her father.
A hand on her waist caught her by surprise. She glanced back, finding Tommy at her side, Cleo perched in his arms. He wore a gentle smile before leaning in to plant a sweet kiss on her cheek. He seemed a bit worn out from all the chasing, sweat trickling down his forehead as he caught his breath. In contrast, Cleo was still brimming with energy, enthusiastically clamoring for more playtime.
“You look stunning,” he said, brushing off the wispy hair that covered her forehead. “How’s it?”
“It’s… It’s fine,” she feigned, locking her gaze into Tommy’s eyes.
Tommy gently released Cleo to the ground, and the little boy toddled over to his sister’s crib, engaging her in conversation with his endearing, little voice. Tamia appeared to react, emitting soft coos that mirrored her brother’s, making Reena and Tommy laugh. Tommy leaned in, resting his chin on her shoulder, his arms encircling her waist. They swayed slightly, their gazes fixed on their children.
“I kinda had wild thought, just… a little bit earlier.”
She followed Tommy’s steps, letting him take her body in the direction of his movement. “What is it?” she asked.
“Say, you wanna have another baby?”
“Another baby?!” she yelped, but as soon as she realized her voice was too loud, she cupped a hand over her mouth. Not knowing how to react, a slight, nervous chuckle escaped her lips, prompting her to tilt her head slightly to the side. “Tommy, it’s just been three months–”
“I know,” he murmured, drawing her into an affectionate embrace and kissing her cheek. “But here’s the thing – I’ve been thinking, wouldn’t we be happier with a larger family?”
Reena felt a soft blush creep up her cheeks as Tommy’s whispered words reached her ear, his affectionate nuzzle causing warmth to spread in her chest.
She shook her head in amusement. “Give me a year or two, at least…”
“No problem, but we can practice, you know? How will we make another one in the future?”
A burst of genuine laughter bubbled up from within her, an uncontrollable expression of sheer happiness. Reena’s arm wound around Tommy’s neck, and she playfully stood on her tiptoes to reach his face. “Of course,” she replied, seeing a spark of joy dancing in his eyes. With a tender tilt of her head, she pressed her lips to his in a lingering kiss, a wordless affirmation of the love she felt for him...
Notes:
Thank you so much for reading <3
Chapter 84: Release
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
CLAUDE HAD SPENT two and a half years preparing himself for death, gradually letting go of hope and the flickering light that remained. Amid the shadows, there was one person he still held onto – the only light in his darkness. The only person he thought of the moment he opened his eyes in the morning and the only person he dreamed of every single night when he closed his eyes.
It was getting dimmer each time. Hazier. Lonelier.
Yet, just when it seemed like his hope was dwindling to a faint spark, a glimmer appeared at the end of the tunnel.
He’d initially dismissed it as a cruel trick of fate, his mind weaving illusions to refuse a sliver of hope. But this time was different. When Ken Rosenberg showed him that piece of paper, he felt a surge of disbelief in his heart so intensely that it felt as though it might burst.
Seated on a creaking single bed that protested even the slightest shift in weight, Claude wrestled with conflicting emotions. The promise of freedom was so tormentingly close, yet the revelation from Tommy threatened to overshadow it all – a lightning bolt of pain that coursed from his stomach to his chest.
The churning pain. He couldn’t.
His fist clenched involuntarily, his knuckles turning white as he drifted back to that memory. It was atop the scaffold, flames licking everywhere. Desperation had bound them together, and hand in hand, they’d taken the leap.
Claude accepted it already. His death. Not once did he ever think he’d get off the hook. He refused any help and offer. He refused companionship. He refused optimism. He lost faith in everything, and he’d conditioned himself to let go but fuck. If he was dreaming, he better wake up now.
The paper left no room for confusion. It bore the name: Judge Oliver Scarbein. This was the very same man who’d passed the sentence for his armed robbery, who’d cast the verdict for the mass murder, and now, it seemed, the very same man who’d given the nod to the annulment of his sentence.
He couldn’t believe he was going to be free, but at what cost?
The pieces fell into place, and now he understood why Reena had been avoiding his calls. Two and a half years was ample time for memories to fade and for her to move on. While he wished he could feel content knowing she was alright, that they were alright, and that they had found peace as they should have, the truth was bittersweet.
Tommy said she was happy. That was what Claude had always wanted for her – a life far from danger, a life that her beautiful soul deserved, even if it meant a life without him.
He wanted her to forget him, and now she did, but why did it hurt so much?
Claude slumped on the firm bed, desperately grappling to hold back the emotions threatening to drown him. But no matter how hard he fought, his eyes welled up, and the pieces of his heart shattered like fragile glass. She’d been his anchor, the reason he endured each breath during the long stretches of isolation. Maybe, buried beneath his desolation, he’d clung to a hope that someday, they could be reunited.
He, Reena, and now, their son.
The truth cut him to the bone. The ache was relentless, gnawing at his very core. Now, all he yearned for was a final glimpse of her. If it meant observing from afar, he was willing. Maybe, just maybe, after that last fleeting moment, he could find solace in letting go.
A loud, grating sound of metal bars being dragged pierced through Claude’s senses.
“Come on, Speed. Time to pack up.”
Claude occupied himself with completing paperwork and gathering his belongings, a task that proved easy as everything fit into a single duffle bag. A correctional officer guided him through the processing steps. He maintained a composed demeanor, standing still beneath the scrutiny of the security scanner. Eventually, he settled into a chair near the offices, patiently awaiting the signal that would mark his final steps to freedom.
“Good luck to you out there,” the correctional officer said as he handed him the duffle bag.
The dashing sunlight wasn’t a stranger to Claude. Occasionally, he’d venture to the yard during recreation hours, yet he’d usually find a secluded spot, evading any potential interactions. Today, the sun bathed his face once more, but he no longer needed to seek out the sheltered enclosure of the yard.
Claude inhaled the air beyond the prison walls, the sensation of it filling his lungs like a long-lost pleasure. The musty, damp atmosphere of confinement gave way to the acrid and tangy scent of the outside world. It was as if the chains that had constricted his wrists had been shattered.
He was a free man now.
Nodding firmly at one of the officers, Claude finally climbed down the stairs, leaving behind the place that had been his confining home for more than two grueling years. Outside the State Penitentiary, Ken Rosenberg leaned casually against a post, his optimism practically radiating as he broke into a grin the moment Claude crossed the threshold.
“Welcome back outside, Claude! How does it feel?”
Claude met Ken’s gaze. Emotion eluded him. The sensation of departing the State Penitentiary, a place where he’d once awaited his own demise, didn’t differ much from escaping its suffocating grip without Reena by his side. Exhaling a profound sigh, he moved past Ken Rosenberg, striding swiftly across the parking lot. Yet, like a shadow, the lawyer followed close behind, dogged and determined.
“Where do you wanna go?” Ken asked, walking briskly beside him, trying to keep up with his pace.
Glancing left and right, Claude navigated the street once again, deliberately disregarding Ken Rosenberg’s presence. Engaging in conversation with him was the last thing in his mind, especially considering the lawyer’s company was not something he desired on his first day of freedom.
“Hey! Hold on!” Ken’s voice rang out, but Claude pressed on without a backward glance. He halted at the opposite end of the street, his eyes fixated on the stream of passing cars. “I know you’re kind of excited, but can you please tell me what you wanna do?” the lawyer retorted, seemingly unwilling to just let him go.
Amid the unsettling noise of the traffic, an almost suffocating calm enveloped Claude’s mind. Lost in contemplation, he pondered the path to reaching her, or anyone who could guide him in her direction. Tommy’s number flashed in his thoughts. Maybe, he mused, he should call him and ask for his help, inform him of his release–
“I know where she is…”
And just like that, Claude’s gaze flitted over to Ken Rosenberg for the first time. The lawyer was gazing ahead with a rather mysterious grin that seemed hard to interpret. Claude frequently pondered Ken’s motivations. It was a puzzle he couldn’t quite piece together.
As much as he was confounded, Claude realized he was cornered. Ken was his sole connection to the outside world, having pushed away his friends, and whether he relished the idea or not, he seemed inextricably tied to the lawyer… for now.
“Would you believe she’s in Vice City?”
Claude’s heart skipped a beat as Ken’s question bore weight over his head. Tommy said she wasn’t there… that she’d left long ago. Tommy also warned him not to trust anyone. Doubt warred with his yearning to believe, leaving him conflicted.
Despite his desperation, he had to be keener. The lawyer seemed to be luring him into something, and he couldn’t show that he was miserable enough to believe everything he said.
Ken’s hand emerged from his coat pocket, holding a sleek cell phone and a modest stack of bills. With a nod, he extended the items toward Claude.
“Here, take these. You’ll need a phone and money,” Ken said, pointing at the device. “I saved my number there, just in case you change your mind… and you wanna come with me to Vice City.”
Claude’s fingers closed around the items, caution coursing through his veins. As his grip tightened, he couldn’t shake the nagging doubts about Ken’s true intentions.
“Look, Claude. I know how bad the bed was in prison,” Ken said, seemingly convinced upon himself that he was persuasive enough. “I booked a hotel room for you, just in case you wanna–”
“I’ll be fine on my own.”
“You ain’t need to worry about anything! It’s comfortable and–”
Claude walked away, not letting Ken Rosenberg finish what he was trying to say.
A rush of sensations engulfed him as he found himself sauntering on the streets of Portland. The sheer expanse of open space, devoid of towering walls and stifling routines, left him both exhilarated and disoriented. The cacophony of city life enveloped him – the blaring horns, the chatter of strangers, the kaleidoscope of colors flashing by. Each step felt like tentative liberty, a cautious reawakening of a life he’d forgotten. The horizon stretched wide, no longer hemmed in by cell bars, and the air held a different taste, free from the sterile confinement he’d grown accustomed to.
Yet, despite all of this, vulnerability pulsed beneath the surface, reminding him of what he had to face outside the penitentiary.
A world without Reena.
He didn’t give a shit about the threats around him. He didn’t care if a Leone would see him walking by. None of it ever mattered now, because he had nothing to lose at all.
As he passed by a building with mirror walls, he caught a glimpse of himself. He halted, drawn to his own reflection. The man staring back at him seemed almost foreign as if the years spent behind bars had etched their mark upon him. His skin was marred by the burnt scars he obtained in the past, bearing the nightmares of that night. The lines etched around his eyes, and deep circles shaded beneath. His hair, once shorn close to the scalp, had grown slightly unruly, covering his cheeks down to his jaw.
If Reena saw him now, she wouldn’t recognize him.
Clenching his fists, Claude averted his gaze from his reflection. He trudged aimlessly on the sidewalks, passing by homeless people and beggars asking for coins until he reached a familiar place.
Claude navigated through Furrow Street, his steps leading him down a narrow passage that stirred memories long suppressed. There stood the old EDDIE’S. The building’s deterioration was evident, its walls cracked and its windows boarded up. But the decay held no significance. What mattered was the escape it offered from everything around him.
It felt like Claude was taken back in time as he crossed the threshold. Stepping into the old refuge, the door protested with a familiar creak as if greeting an old friend. The stagnant air, tinged with the odor of accumulated dust, wrapped around him.
He closed the doors behind him, and his gaze fell upon the remnants scattered across the room. Empty bottles and other pieces of trash lay on the floor, proof that someone or a group, perhaps, had stayed there. To his surprise, the bag that had once held his earnings from working for the Leones still sat atop the decaying mattress, nothing but a nickel remaining inside, bringing a slight simper on his lips.
As the minutes ticked by, Claude sank onto the grimy cushion, surrendering his weary body to its embrace. The worn-out fabric seemed to mold to his contours, providing a simple respite. Somehow, it felt better than his bed in prison.
With his eyes shut, he retraced the past, vividly recalling that it was Reena who’d last occupied this space with him.
Immersing himself in their memories, Claude imagined her beside him, their bodies close, fingers entwined, and with each passing heartbeat, the silence overwhelmed him like a velvet shroud.
What did his boy look like? His son had either brown or orange hair, and his cheeks were plump and rosy, freckles dotting his face just like his mother’s. In his imagination, he could see the little boy’s lips curving into a cheeky grin, showing off tiny teeth, making him clutch his chest in a fleeting delight.
He pictured Reena holding their son, a sight that tugged at his heart. The feeling was consuming as he thought of their little family together.
In his dreams, Claude reached out to their child, gently scooping him up and pressing the boy against his chest. He felt real, tangible. Then, he looked at Reena, and she glowed with a beauty that transcended everything else. He leaned in to press a soft kiss on her forehead before lowering his lips to hers, sealing his aching with an embrace that held all the promises and love he could ever give.
When he opened his eyes, the dark was already setting. Claude sat on the mattress that rasped, placing a hand on his head. Had he fallen asleep that long?
There was no sense in wallowing here. He needed to seek help… to find someone he could trust. Someone who could reveal the truth about Reena and their son.
Claude departed the shelter. He strode toward the nearby road, his destination uncertain. As he moved, he found a stationary cab, its driver poised for a fare. Without hesitation, he slid into the backseat, catching the driver’s gaze reflected in the rearview mirror.
“Where we headin’?”
Claude leaned his back against the seat. “Newport.”
8-BALL STRODE ACROSS the front of the condominium. He wrestled with the thought of whether to extend an apology to Asuka or to let his pride prevail. Ultimately, his ego emerged victorious. His footsteps resounded against the pavement, each thump burdened with a weight he couldn’t shake. He chose to forgo a cab, opting instead to traverse the distance on foot, allowing his thoughts to unravel at their own pace.
The streets were unusually quiet, a moment for him to lose himself in the cool summer breeze. For most of the days, the atmosphere was humid to hot, but this night begged to differ.
He still couldn’t understand why Asuka was so steadfast in supporting Tommy. For what it was worth, they weren’t friends, but she seemed to be more convinced that he was the better man. Maria, of course, didn’t have any solid opinion about it; all she cared about was how Reena would deal with her situation, being stuck between two mountains that might soon push against each other.
In 8-Ball’s eyes, Tommy was nothing short of an asshole. While he acknowledged that Tommy had once rescued him in Angel Pine, he struggled to fully embrace the role Tommy now played in Reena and Cleo’s life. He held steadfast in his belief that Tommy’s motivations were driven solely by self-interest.
An opportunist.
But why did Asuka want to help him?
The ground came alive with the sound of rustling leaves, stirred by a passing gust of wind that swept lifeless debris across the pavement. Lost in thought, 8-Ball continued his aimless journey away from the highway, his steps carrying him until he arrived at the street that directed him toward his auto yard in inner Newport.
He thought of Claude. He wondered so badly how his friend would react if he learned about Reena and their son. Even more so, he was wary of how he’d respond to the fact that Reena was now married to Tommy, and they already had a child of their own–
His train of thought abruptly derailed as the echo of footsteps reached his ears from behind. The sound meshed with his own footsteps before coming to a sudden halt, paralleling his pause. A tingling sense of being pursued stirred within him. Instinctively, 8-Ball slipped his hands into his pockets, his fingers curling around the hilt of his pocket knife. He continued walking, fingers dancing over the weapon until he retrieved it, the blade emerging with a muted swish as he flicked it open, grip steady and unwavering.
Navigating the path further, he pressed onward until he stood at the threshold of his auto yard’s gates. In a swift, fluid motion, he spun around, holding the blade and swinging it swiftly.
The man caught his wrist and twisted his arm toward his back, snapping the knife out of his hold with a slap. 8-Ball growled in pain, but the man seemed careful not to inflict further agony on him.
“8-Ball, it’s me!”
His head turned almost a half circle just to get a glimpse of the man behind him. The man’s grip loosened, and 8-Ball swiftly retreated a step, nursing his forearm that bore the strain from the man’s earlier hold. Despite the discomfort, his eyes narrowed as he squinted, trying to get a clear glimpse of the man’s face.
He hadn’t seen his friend for more than two years. Covered in hair, a cut scar near the eyebrow, and indistinctive sideburns that were already connected to the overgrowth on the cheeks and jaw...
With a gesture of surrender, the man lifted his hands forward, his open palms revealing an absence of weapons. “I followed you from the condominium… I-I got out this morning…”
As seconds ticked by in a haze of astonishment and unease, 8-Ball’s perception seemed to sharpen. Gradually, he recognized the stance and the shape of the face. The fog of uncertainty lifted, unveiling the face that lay beneath.
Those dark callous eyes that he knew all too well.
“Claude?!” 8-Ball exclaimed.
“I need your help...”
“Is that really you?!” 8-Ball asked once more.
Claude nodded. “It’s me, Brother.”
8-Ball stepped closer, his hands reaching out to grasp Claude’s head tightly. His grip eased, transitioning into a gentle pat on the cheek, a chuckle escaping him as the truth solidified before his eyes. In a swift gesture, he seized his friend’s hand, shaking it with a firm clasp. Pulling him into a close embrace, he swung an arm around his back, hand patting the back of his shoulder blades. Claude held onto his hand, mirroring the sentiment, and reciprocated the gesture.
“Brother,” 8-Ball said as he pulled away, motioning at him to follow. “Let’s get inside.”
The auto yard, while not as expansive as his previous one in Harwood or the one in Pike Creek, still held a certain charm despite its desolation. The garage, since the incident involving Reena and the Leones, had been fortified with metal fences in both alleys. A few cars lingered on the side, awaiting repair. Claude followed 8-Ball, his steps echoing the familiar rhythm. They journeyed toward the inner garage, where 8-Ball hoisted up a metal roll-up door, unveiling the modest refuge concealed within. He waved at Claude, inviting him to settle on the bench.
“Do you want a drink?”
“Beer would be nice. Haven’t had one in a while.”
“You’re lucky I still have!”
Claude chuckled bitterly. “Am I?”
8-Ball’s head shook, remorse flickering in his eyes as he recognized his own insensitivity. “Sorry, didn’t mean that…” he quickly interjected, a note of regret softening his tone. Closing the distance between them, he handed over a can of cold beer. “Here, Brother.”
Sitting beside Claude, 8-Ball turned to face the serene surroundings of the garage. The hushed ambiance set against the dark sky, where stars of varying sizes shimmered in the distance. Side by side, they cracked open their beer cans, the fizzing sound punctuating the stillness. Without needing to exchange words, they sipped, the cool liquid quenching their thirst and easing the silence. 8-Ball’s gaze drifted to Claude beside him, and he couldn’t help but let his hand reach out, patting his friend’s shoulder in a firm yet supportive manner.
“I know this won’t change anything, but I’m glad that you’re here.”
“Thank you,” he spoke in a subdued tone, his lips curving into a faint smile despite the gravity of the situation. “I didn’t really have anywhere else to turn. Seeing you means a lot.”
Guilt. That was what 8-Ball felt. He was a friend who couldn’t do shit. He resented himself so much that he thought he didn’t deserve Claude’s trust. But despite all, his brother came to him and showed up to him first without hesitation.
“Hey, you can go to me anytime, okay?! Call me anytime! In fact, give me your phone. Do you have a phone?!”
Claude nodded. He drew the device that looked a bit new from his pocket. 8-Ball took it from him. He took Claude’s number and saved his digits in the contacts, seeing that there was only one number saved in the phone under the name Ken.
K.R. The man who wrote the letters.
Reluctantly, 8-Ball returned the phone to his friend. “Who’s Ken?”
With a slight glance, Claude took the phone back and tucked it into his pocket. “The lawyer who helped me out,” he said, gulping for another time, seemingly relishing the taste of the beer in his mouth.
“Is that… Ken Rosenberg?”
Claude nodded, a flicker of confusion lighting his eyes.
“Brother, listen. We’re very skeptical about the douche… the lawyer.”
“Ken Rosenberg?”
“Yeah,” 8-Ball immediately replied. He took a quick swig from his can, not minding the content that spilled to the sides of his mouth. “He’s suspicious, sending us letters about your release. That’s how we knew you were getting out.”
“We?” Claude asked.
“Me, Asuka, and Tommy.”
Claude drained the beer in his can, seemingly pushing the cold drink down his throat. “He told me where Reena is. And he said he’s taking me there.”
The sound of the can slipping from 8-Ball’s grasp and hitting the ground grabbed Claude’s attention. His gaze shifted to the spilled beer, a sudden disruption in the otherwise quiet moment. The liquid poured out, forming a pool on the ground.
With a stern expression, Claude’s eyes settled on 8-Ball, an unspoken inquiry lurking in his gaze. He seemed to be attempting to decipher something, searching for meaning. But 8-Ball couldn’t meet his friend’s gaze, his own eyes avoiding the connection that threatened to unravel the things he himself couldn’t tell.
“I miss her so much,” Claude murmured, his posture shifting as he leaned forward, his elbows finding support on his knees while his hands clenched together. “But is it true? Is it true she has a family?”
8-Ball felt a twinge of discomfort in his chest. He yearned for the clamor of Newport’s streets. The silence felt oppressive, a weight pressing him to respond to the question. Despite his attempts to keep his emotions in check, to remain detached, the incessant nodding of his head seemed beyond his control. The action was almost involuntary, a rhythmic movement that betrayed his struggle.
“I wanna see her, Brother,” Claude said, a note of derision slicing through his tone. “I wanna see her and our son–”
“Brother,” 8-Ball interrupted. “I don’t think it’s a good idea to go to Vice City.”
Claude’s gaze bore into him, a strange glow dancing within his eyes – a piercing intensity that seemed to see beyond the surface. With a nod and a subtle clenching of his lips, Claude’s mouth parted.
“Tommy told me she wasn’t in Vice City, but Ken Rosenberg said she was there.”
Every fiber of 8-Ball’s being seemed ready to burst, his entire body vibrating with a tension that mirrored a ticking time bomb. His heart raced within his chest, its beats like the hammering of a relentless drum. As Claude rose from his seat, 8-Ball’s palms instinctively found his shirt, wiping away the dampness that had accumulated there. He met Claude’s gaze, a bitter frown creasing his features.
“Thank you for the drink. I appreciate it. But I’m going no matter what happens.”
8-Ball lifted his head and looked up at him, swallowing hard. “Brother, don’t,” he muttered under his breath. “You’re just gonna hurt her… a lot.”
The stillness was broken as two vehicles swept by, the sound accompanied by the rustling of leaves under their tires. The air itself seemed to tighten. The seconds stretched, each tick of the clock accompanied by growing unrest.
“I won’t hurt her, and thank you for watching over her and our son while you all thought I was gonna die.”
Claude started trodding away, leaving 8-Ball dumbfounded. He wanted to stop his friend, but he knew things were unfolding at a rate he couldn’t stop or catch up with. It took him some time before he stood and followed, but as soon as he reached the gates of his auto yard, Claude was gone like the wind. He strolled left to right, up to the end of the sidewalk, but he was nowhere to be found anymore.
8-Ball rushed back to his garage to grab his phone, fumbling on the keyboard to dial for Asuka, when he suddenly realized something.
He knew Asuka would warn Tommy. In an instant, he found himself letting go of his cell and tossing it back onto the table. Let Claude get to Vice City even if it meant he was going there with Ken Rosenberg. No, he wasn’t calling Asuka. No, he wasn’t telling Tommy either. And no, none of them would know that Claude went to him tonight. He refused to be an instrument of Claude and Reena’s separation for another time, and if it needed for Reena to face the hard truth, then she should, as long as she learned that Claude was still alive.
He just wished he’d offered his help sooner. After all, he wanted his brother to come back to Reena, didn’t he?
And Tommy? He could suck his own dick.
As he slumped on the bench, all 8-Ball could do was close his eyes and press his hands on his head, knowing to himself that the worst was yet to come…
Notes:
Thank you so much for reading <3
Chapter 85: Catharsis
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
EVEN WHEN HE traveled to Liberty City almost fifteen years ago, Claude had never set foot on an airplane. As he stood before the expansive glass windows of the airport, his gaze fixed upon the enormous aircraft nestled at the terminal. A stream of people began to form a line, making their way toward the path leading to the boarding bridge. The hum of the surroundings was nearly overwhelming, bordering on deafening. Yet, in the middle of the cacophony, a plague of thoughts persisted, undeterred.
He pondered over this ceaselessly, the weight pressing upon him with each passing day. Departing from 8-Ball’s garage, he reached out to Ken Rosenberg, and with limited options, reluctantly accepted the lawyer’s offer of a reserved hotel room. Over the span of three days, the lawyer hovered attentively, ensuring his needs were met.
All Claude yearned for, however, was solitude – a respite from the world, a haven to round up the scattered puzzle pieces of his mind. After enduring agonizing days of self-doubt and internal battles, he, at last, yielded to Ken’s persistent pleas, surrendering to the lawyer’s invitation.
Ignoring 8-Ball’s advice, Claude pressed on toward Vice City. As the line shuffled ahead, he couldn’t shake the image of 8-Ball’s reaction when he mentioned Reena – the beer can slipping from his grasp, a visceral display of shock. To say he was horrified was an understatement; 8-Ball’s face had twisted in something far more intense.
And more than that, Claude proved one thing that he dreaded to admit.
Tommy had lied to him. The card with his friend’s number was clenched in his hand. Just before stepping onto the bridge, he’d crushed it into a ball and tossed it into the bin. As for why Tommy had told him Reena was no longer in Vice City, Claude was determined to get to the bottom of it.
A flight attendant inspected his boarding pass, casting a sidelong look his way. Claude averted his gaze, not wishing to draw out any unnecessary exchanges. Could his name have triggered recognition? With the pass scanned, the attendant handed it back, and as soon as Claude retrieved it, he strode purposefully down the corridor.
“Take it easy, Claude,” Ken’s voice drifted from behind him. “You’re not a criminal anymore…”
With every step he took, the corridor seemed to throb in rhythm. The only sounds that reached his ears were the footsteps and hushed conversations of those ahead and behind him. His fingers tightened around the handle of his duffle bag, knuckles white. Beneath his ribcage, his heart pounded insistently, a sensation he knew wasn’t mere first-flight nerves, but something else.
A few hours more, and he’d see Reena.
“Welcome to Liberty City Airlines!” the woman by the entrance greeted him, her makeup bold and vivid.
The airplane’s interior was saturated with the potent fragrance of tangerine. Passengers bustled about, stowing their belongings in the overhead compartments. Obstructions cluttered the aisle as some struggled with their luggage. Claude found himself brought to a halt by a bald man in a blue suit, who leisurely wrestled his bag into the overhead bin, utterly indifferent to impede others. His sluggish movements were deliberate, each motion intensifying a throbbing pulse in Claude’s head.
“Hey Claude, just keep walking. Squeeze yourself in,” Ken’s hushed voice urged from behind.
But Claude didn’t back down. Instead, he squared his shoulders and locked his gaze on the man. The man’s awareness was palpable; he chuckled, then stared back with evident provocation.
“Got a problem?” the man taunted, seemingly unfazed.
Claude’s eyes remained fixed on the man, imagining things in his head that he rather not do. Memories from prison surfaced – instances where inmates had deliberately blocked his path, aiming to provoke him when he chose to remain aloof. Those men found themselves nursing injuries, while Claude was once more confined to his cell.
No words escaped Claude’s mouth, but he ensured that his intent was unmistakably clear. His fists clenched at his sides, and he made no effort to hide the bared edges of his teeth. The man’s earlier arrogance seemed to waver. Within a heartbeat, the man retrieved the bag he had yet to place in the compartment and retreated to his seat, choosing to cradle his luggage on his lap.
“This isn’t a prison,” Ken muttered, his annoyance palpable. “You didn’t have to terrify the poor guy like that, you know?” Expressing his disappointment with a frustrated exhale, Ken gestured toward a seat by the window. “Your spot’s over there. I’ll be sitting toward the back.”
Thankfully, Claude mused, he wouldn’t be confined beside Ken Rosenberg throughout the flight. That, at least, came as a relief; otherwise, he might find himself back in prison sooner than he wished. Settling into the window seat, Claude’s gaze meandered through the narrow rectangular frame. The expansive runway stretched out, spanning what appeared to be at least a mile if his estimation was correct. He shifted his focus to the horizon, the direction the plane would soon traverse. All around him, the clamor pressed on, momentarily drowning out that thought within his head that refused to be quelled.
Reena. I’m almost there.
“I like what you did earlier.”
Sitting beside him was a woman, likely in her early fifties, her smile warm and inviting. One thing Claude immediately sensed was her appearance didn’t align with an economy-class traveler. While her attire remained unpretentious, her cropped, curled hair paired strikingly with the bold stroke of crimson lipstick that showed her confidence. A glint of gold emanated from her ears and neck, where earrings and a clef pendant necklace caught the light. With a graceful motion, she removed her gloves, revealing a demeanor that effortlessly blended elegance with charisma.
“Boys like him need a reality check, to learn some respect for other people’s boundaries,” the woman commented, her tone carrying a sense of authority.
Claude glanced at her, baffled by her willingness to engage with him. He shifted his position, leaning back against the chair and closing his eyes in an attempt to signal his reluctance for further conversation with her.
But she persisted. “You appear both excited and nervous. Am I right?”
With his eyes shut, Claude let out a quiet sigh. “Perhaps,” he replied, his words almost involuntarily escaping.
Her laughter rippled through the air. “You and me both. That’s why I can sense it. The mix of excitement and nervousness.”
Engaging in conversation with Ken Rosenberg was far from Claude’s preference, let alone striking up a conversation with a stranger. However, something gravitated him toward this woman, urging him to breach his usual restraint. Before he knew it, his eyes had opened and shifted, and in turning his gaze, he discovered the woman smiling serenely in his direction, her tranquil eyes locked onto his.
“My name’s Maggy,” she offered, her tone friendly. Her left hand extended toward him.
He clasped her hand firmly in his own. “Claude.”
She let out a sigh as she settled into her seat, adjusting her posture in search of comfort. As she did so, the aircraft began to move. Before long, the plane accelerated and lifted off, a sensation that seemed to contract Claude’s stomach. With their ascent, the vast dome atop the airport’s main terminal shrank in perspective, and the other aircraft on the tarmac dwindled in size.
“I’ve been around strong men for so long, they forget they’re human too. In a world where people like him are elevated, it’s refreshing to see a man teaching boys a lesson,” she began, then she pointed to the man that Claude almost had an encounter with, “as you did with that bald fellow.”
A scoff slipped past his lips, his tension giving way to a degree of ease. “You really think that’s what I was doing?”
Maggy’s gaze held a glint of amusement. “Pretty much. So, how old are you?”
The question was unexpected, but Claude shrugged, deciding to indulge her curiosity. “Thirty-four.”
“Hmm. Same age as my son. I’m fifty-two. Fair’s fair; I asked you first.”
“Did you marry young?” Claude inquired.
“I found the love of my life early,” she responded with a beam.
It struck Claude as intriguing, the way the conversation was keeping his attention. Talking to strangers seemed oddly refreshing, their genuineness contrasting starkly with those he knew, like Tommy.
Why had he lied to him?
“I found the love of my life at ten,” he muttered almost to himself, a quiet revelation. “I suppose we both stumbled into them early.”
Maggy’s smile persisted as she retrieved a pack of candies from her purse. “Do you mind if I ask where she is?”
“In Vice City,” he replied simply.
“And you’re going to her?”
Claude nodded in confirmation.
Tearing open the candy pack, Maggy extracted a piece of chocolate. “Want some?”
Politely, he declined. “No, thank you.”
“They say sugar can make you feel better. Now, I know why you’re excited and nervous at the same time.” She was still holding out the pack of candies to him. Feeling it was impolite to decline the second time, he grabbed the packet and poured at least three pieces on his calloused palm.
“I haven’t seen her in a while,” he admitted. He found himself wondering why he was sharing this with the woman beside him. Tossing a handful of chocolate into his mouth all at once, they melted instantly, flooding his taste buds with a rush of sweetness that provided a brief solace. She was right – sugar could offer a momentary reprieve, but it couldn’t really calm his nerves.
Time went by quite in haste as he and the woman talked, commenting on the weather and exchanging a few questions and answers here and there. Maggy said she had a business in Vice Point that was long overdue, and perhaps when she had time, she could go back to the place where she’d always wanted to go – San Andreas.
“I wish he were still around,” she mused, a wistful tone threading through her words. With a languid movement, she stirred the cup of tea the flight attendant had set on her tray. She had offered to order one for him as well, but he refused. “Although, I suppose that’s rather unlikely.”
“Who are you hoping to see?” Claude inquired.
“My son,” she replied, her smile tinted with a muted sadness. It was as if her thoughts had carried her to another time. “I lost touch with him. I’m not even sure what’s become of him.”
“When was the last time you saw him?” Claude asked.
Maggy’s shoulders lifted in a nonchalant shrug. “He was just a baby, not even a year old.” Her gaze turned melancholic as if lost in a distant memory.
His hands tightened on his jeans, knuckles going white. This woman hadn’t been around for his son’s whole life. Her boy could’ve been gone, and she’d have no clue. Fear clawed at Claude’s chest, a raw dread that the universe wouldn’t dare replicate. He thought of his own son. Right now, he and Maggy didn’t seem so different. But that could change if he didn’t back down, if he found the guts to face his child... and Reena.
She stole a glance at the window, and Claude’s gaze followed suit, fixing on the view outside. The shores of Vice City stretched out before them, a ribbon of white sand tracing the contours of the sprawling metropolis in a breathtaking vista. His heartbeat intensified, its rhythm echoing louder in his ears. As they drew nearer, his emotions swung from excitement to apprehension, the latter more potent than the other.
After enduring years of living in anticipation of death, he was finally going to see her again. His Reena.
As he gazed outward, a looming shadow swept over his side. Glancing toward the aisle, his eyes met a man clad in a brown coat and sporting sunglasses.
“Madame, Boss’s already looking for you.”
Claude’s scowl deepened as he locked eyes with the man, his glare heavy with intent. However, he felt the gentle touch of Maggy’s hand on his forearm, a soft interruption to his building ire. “It’s okay,” she reassured him, her words carrying a genuine calmness. Yet, it seemed she wasn’t ready to part ways just yet. “I enjoyed our talk, and I hope you won’t stay away once you’re with her.” With a gesture, the man offered his elbow, and Maggy accepted, rising from her seat and making her way down the aisle toward the opposite side of the plane.
How, in such a short time, did he come to learn about a new person? Her boldness, though strong, felt like it had cracks on the surface, just like his. She was so composed, yet, every word she said was filled with sorrow. As soon as his companion was gone, he puffed a heavy breath, thinking about the last thing she said.
It wasn’t his choice to stay away… was it?
Tommy’s words echoed in his mind – Reena’s new life, complete with a family and husband. And 8-Ball’s plea had lingered too, a warning that reaching out could inflict fresh wounds. Was he starting to second-guess his decision? Was he contemplating retreat now that he was on Vice City’s soil? The thought of merely observing them from a distance flitted across his mind – could that be a harmless compromise?
“Still know the way?” Ken’s voice floated from the back, his gaze penetrating the gap between the seats.
Claude was unable to hold back his confusion. “What way?” he blurted out.
“To Starfish Island,” Ken supplied, his expression teasing.
Claude’s patience waned, exasperation filling in his head as he turned to face Ken. “Why are we heading there?”
Ken’s laughter grated on his nerves, the sound only managing to rile him further. “You wanna catch a glimpse of her, don’t you?”
Before more could be said, the intercom’s announcement broke their conversation. “Ladies and gentlemen, we’re preparing to descend. Kindly ensure your seatbelts are fastened and your carry-on items are stowed either underneath your seats or in the overhead compartments. Thank you.”
The flight’s impending conclusion diverted his thoughts, leaving him momentarily suspended between his emotions and the reality ahead. The seatbelt sign illuminated, and almost immediately, Claude’s stomach tightened as the plane descended. Before his eyes sprawled the entirety of the Escobar International Airport, the plane aligning with the awaiting runway. As they went down, the once-prominent shorelines receded, now dwarfed by the towering structures of the terminal.
Doubts about Ken Rosenberg began to solidify within him. Was this some kind of absurd joke? The lawyer’s smug chuckles echoed ominously in his mind, and Claude found himself growing increasingly skeptical. 8-Ball’s warning now made more sense. Vice City sprawled expansively, and among its many neighborhoods, why would she be residing in that particular borough? The suspicion was mounting, and Claude’s grip on the truth felt increasingly tenuous.
He felt the plane touch the ground, the aircraft barreling along the tarmac with an unwavering force. Leaning his head against the seat, Claude simply waited as the plane gradually decelerated.
The speaker burst a static noise once more. “Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to Escobar International Airport. For your safety, please remain seated–”
Everything blurred as he pictured her in his mind. Her hazel eyes that always lit up for him, the bright curve of her lips. Waves of hair that flowed down her shoulders like fragrant lilac blooms in a garden. A voice that could calm his every worry, and the touch of her fingers on his skin. His heart ached with the thought of her, knowing that someone else was now experiencing all the things he used to have for himself.
Passengers all around began rising from their seats, retrieving their belongings from the overhead compartments. When Claude noticed Ken passing him, an almost automatic reaction drove him to his feet, his actions mirroring the lawyer. He had no clue about what Ken was up to, but he was prepared to take the gamble if it meant inching closer to Reena and their child. Exiting the passage, he trailed a few paces behind Ken, his steps reluctant, creating a deliberate distance from the lawyer who strolled with remarkable confidence.
Reena had every justification to move forward without him. He’d made the conscious decision to step aside, confessing to Tommy and 8-Ball that he preferred Reena remain ignorant of his incarceration, of his continued existence. He’d surrendered his claim on her, allowing her to carve out a life that didn’t depend on his presence.
However, the memory of her remained vivid, a scene etched into his mind – them lying on the sun-kissed beach, her body nestled atop his, her words of unwavering commitment resonating like a beacon of hope within his heart. She’d told him that she’d never let him go, and up until now, no matter how hard he denied it, he was still holding on to that promise.
As they passed through the exit gates, his tightly clenched fists gradually eased their grip, his attention turning toward Ken as they navigated through the throngs of cars in the parking lot.
“Want to take the wheel?” Ken Rosenberg’s voice interrupted his thoughts, the squint of his eyes against the sun’s brilliance directing Claude’s gaze upward. With a casual movement, Ken extended his hand, the key dangled between his fingers.
Accepting the key, Claude proceeded to the driver’s seat of the White Admiral. Ken took the lead, sliding into the car ahead of him and securing his seatbelt.
“Afternoon, and still sweltering. In LC, it’d be cooling down by now,” Ken remarked.
Seated behind the steering wheel, Claude felt an odd disconnect, as if the familiar action of driving was foreign to him. Bizarrely, the freedom he’d longed for now felt like a new kind of confinement. The key slotted into the ignition, the engine roaring to life.
“Where exactly are we headed?” Claude inquired, his hand resting on the gear shift, ready to set things in motion.
A wide grin stretched across Ken’s face as he reclined in the cushioned seat, an air of satisfaction emanating from him as his eyelids drooped closed.
“Vercetti Estate.”
Notes:
Thank you!
Chapter 86: Seeing With Own Eyes
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
REENA’S LIPS CURVED into a soft smile as she snipped away the withered leaves of the rose plant that had just burst into bloom. The sun’s afternoon warmth felt good on her skin as a gentle breeze brushed against her cheeks. The tiny buds lay nestled among the green leaves, their colors still shyly unfurling.
She leaned closer, her fingers deftly working the shears, and a faint, sweet scent danced in the air, a hint of the fragrance that would soon envelop the garden once the blossoms fully opened. Reena looked forward to plucking those future blossoms and gathering them into her hands. The thought of creating bouquets to put at Maude’s resting place brought a bittersweet ache to her chest.
With the watering can in hand, she moved toward the other pots where plants basked under the sunlight. She ensured each pot received its share, her eyes attentive to their needs, much like she had done with the roses. The weather was just right, the summer breathing life into her flowers. A smile tugged at her lips once more as she remembered Mr. Jenkins. He surely would be proud of her.
Contentment filled her chest as she observed her plants, each one flourishing under her care. It took her months to produce these, to bring the shed back to life after they got back to the estate. Almost, she had her dream garden, but then, amid this satisfaction, her gaze fixed upon the pot of lilacs.
With a sigh, she put the watering can down and reached out to touch the dry petals that still clung to the stems. Reena was puzzled by the situation. The sun was definitely hitting the lilacs, just like it did with the rest. So, what was causing these flowers to fade away?
“What’s happening to you?” she asked, brushing her fingers on each petal that once glowed with charm and vibrance.
Mr. Jenkins had once told her that plants were like silent humans, listening to the world around them. With that thought in mind, she knelt beside the pot, her fingers clearing the surface. As always, she checked the soil and the bottom of the plant that held it to the earth. Then, she grabbed the watering can and poured it in carefully, the water cascading onto the soil with a gentle hiss.
The sound of the gates opening reached her ears, accompanied by the unmistakable roar of Tommy’s Cheetah. She whispered to the lilacs once more, an attempt to rejuvenate the dying plant. Then, as she prepared to stand to see her husband, a scream cut through the air.
“Please, I can’t run after you anymore!”
“Nana, drive!”
Reena grasped the pail with her gloved hands and headed straight to the driveway. There, she came across a distressed Mrs. Hubbard, the old woman clutching her chest and gasping for breath. Beads of sweat drenched her forehead, glistening like tiny gems, as she crouched next to Tamia’s stroller. Cleo was still in his mini-car, driving his godfather’s gift with extreme delight, giggling and screaming enthusiastically past the garage.
Hurriedly, Reena set the pail aside and dashed toward the old woman. “Are you alright?” she asked. She scooped Mrs. Hubbard’s arm and guided her toward the shaded patio by the bushes, nestled under the cool refuge of a palm tree. Gently easing her into a seat, Reena pulled Tamia’s stroller close and engaged the wheel’s lock to keep her steady.
Mrs. Hubbard managed a nod, but it was evident that she was far from well. Her breathing came in rapid bursts, her face flushed and contorted, and her hand was still in her chest.
Reena looked around to see if any of Tommy’s men were in sight, but only Mike who was about to close the gates was present. She waved a hand at him, catching his attention. “Mike, can you get me a glass of water?” she requested, but when she looked back at Mrs. Hubbard, Reena felt a drink of water wasn’t enough. “Get my car ready too.”
Mrs. Hubbard swallowed hard, shaking her head with an apologetic look. “I’m sorry, dear. I kept on following Cleo around,” she stuttered, then coughed, panting as she inhaled with palpable difficulty. “B-but he was driving his car too fast–”
“Next time, don’t run after him any–” Reena paused, her words caught in her throat as her attention shifted. Her son, who’d been there just moments ago, was nowhere to be found. Frowning, she scanned the surroundings, her gaze darting in search spot he could’ve gone to. Tommy emerged from the garage, casting her a worried look. Seemingly sensing what was going on, he also tugged his gaze around the driveway, and in a beat, both of their eyes fell to the wide-open gates.
Her eyes widened in shock. “Cleo!”
Reena’s heart raced as she sprinted, her feet pounding against the pavement. She leaped forward in an attempt to catch her son. His speed surprised her, and a cold rush of discomfort coursed through her veins as the boy nearly reached the gates, the mini-car careening toward the ramp that led out of the estate. Everything blurred as Reena pushed herself harder, her legs moving on their own. With each step, she closed the gap, her fingers stretching out toward the back of his mini-car.
Cleo slipped from her grasp. Reena tripped on her feet, tumbling roughly onto the ground. A sharp pain struck her knees, not allowing her to stand immediately. “Shit!” she whispered to herself. With a struggle, she pressed her palms on the ground and forced her legs to straighten, causing her to grunt in pain until she managed to rise.
As she lifted her head, however, she caught a glimpse of an incoming car, and every bone within her quake.
“Baby!”
The mini-car shuddered to a stop as Tommy lurched and grasped the trunk. Just in the nick of time, the speeding car whizzed by, its roaring noise distinct and perilous, and Cleo… her dear boy was mere inches away from it.
“Oh, my God!” Reena cried out, her heart fluttering with fear and disbelief. She hurried toward them and hauled her son up close, pressing his head against her shoulder as if to shield him from any harm. She was frozen in place, unable to will herself to take even a single step back toward the driveway. Her whole body was waning, insides trembling, except her hold on her son. She squeezed her eyes shut, her heart still beating so loud she could hear it in her head.
Beside them, Tommy let out a relieved sigh, his dread evident on his face. Once she was back to her senses, Reena gazed up at him imploringly. “Tommy, t-thank you, I-I didn’t know what I would’ve done…”
Tears streamed down her face as she thought of what happened… how stupid it was of her to trip down and be unable to save her son! If Tommy hadn’t come and followed, things would’ve ended differently.
“Sweetie, calm down,” Tommy whispered, then he touched Cleo’s hand. “Hey, buddy,” he said, urging the boy to look at him. “Papa’s gonna drive with you next time, okay? None of that again, alright?” Tommy’s expression softened as he stared at the little boy. He took Cleo into his arms for comfort, and the young boy nuzzled his face against Tommy’s shoulder, his little arms wounding around his neck.
A sob slipped from Reena’s mouth, urging her to cover it with her hands. As she tried to stop herself from crying, Tommy reached out to her and pulled her close. His hand found its way to her face, cupping her left cheek, and then he leaned down, his lips meeting hers in a gentle kiss.
“I’m here, don’t worry. Don’t cry…”
Nothing could quell her fear, but somehow, Tommy’s kiss was soothing. Tears kept streaming down her cheeks, but she no longer felt awful. They stayed that way for a fleeting moment, the tenderness of his love calming her with each second.
As their lips parted, a smile curved his mouth, and his thumb traced a path across her cheek, leaving a trail of warmth that spread in her chest. “I should be helping you more if we’re making a dozen Cleos,” Tommy commented, his voice carrying a hint of playfulness.
With his dreamy eyes locked into hers, Reena’s fears began to dissipate and were replaced by a peal of laughter she wasn’t able to hold back. Her hands fell onto Tommy’s chest as she snuggled on his shoulder. She closed her eyes for a moment, feeling his kiss on the top of her head.
I couldn’t ask for more.
When she opened her eyes, she caught sight of Mike approaching, his expression fraught with concern. Tommy’s gaze followed hers, and his loving expression suddenly flicked with a hint of ire.
“You should be guarding the gates–”
“It’s not his fault,” Reena quickly interjected, patting her husband’s chest lightly. “I asked him to prepare my car. I-I need to take Mrs. Hubbard to the hospital...” she explained, and then she turned to Mike and smiled. “Have you prepared my car?”
“Y-Yes, Miss Reena...” Mike answered, his voice quaking.
Tommy’s eyes narrowed, briefly pointing a finger at Mike with a clenched jaw, but he swung his attention back to her, his expression softening. “Mike could go with her. You don’t have to leave...”
“But Mrs. Hubbard needs my help,” she retorted. “She’s struggling to breathe.”
“Then I’ll go with her. Stay here in the estate, alright? I’ll take care of her.”
Although hesitant, Reena nodded, and Tommy kissed her for another time before releasing his hold on her, heading back toward the house with Cleo in his arms. She paused, taking a step back to grab Cleo’s mini-car. Her eyes fell on the road, on the path the dashing car took, the could-have scene replaying in her mind. Reena closed her eyes and shook her head, realizing what she was doing wasn’t helping her at all.
She was poised to get back inside, but then again, a strange compulsion made her pause and look over her shoulder.
It was hard to explain, but an uncanny feeling lingered, sending goosebumps rippling beneath her skin, making her hair stand on end. The road was empty, the distant hum of engines fading. The neighboring mansions stood in silence, seemingly devoid of any presence, until her gaze settled on a white car parked by the gates of a residence across from theirs. The car wasn’t too far away, yet not close enough either.
Was there someone inside that car, watching them?
“Mike,” she called out, not removing her eyes from the suspicious vehicle. As soon as he was within her sight, she quickly made her way toward him. “I’ll check on Mrs. Hubbard first. Can you make sure the gates are closed?”
“Yes, Miss Reena,” Mike replied, his tone reassuring.
Throwing a final glance at the white car, Reena walked back inside, trying to push the strange feeling in the back of her mind.
CLAUDE SAT STILL behind the wheel, the potent pain and anger gnawing at his chest. The sensation was worse than the memory of gunshots he’d endured before. His head and chest throbbed, but he clenched his teeth, his grip on the steering wheel turning the leather under his hands into crushed knots. The noise of passing cars seemed distant and insignificant as if someone had taken away all the sound of the world around him.
A few moments ago, a familiar car pulled up in the estate’s driveway, drawing his attention. The distinctive form of the Cheetah glided in, proof that Tommy was there.
“Why the fuck are we here?!” he remembered asking the lawyer.
“Just wait and see.”
He couldn’t fathom why Ken Rosenberg had instructed him to park in front of the house opposite Vercetti Estate’s gates. A mounting frustration filled his chest for his unanswered questions.
Nevertheless, his focus remained locked on the gates, his thoughts churning as he watched a young boy in a mini-car come into view.
“That’s your son,” Ken Rosenberg mumbled.
A lot of questions began to run through his mind. My son? Is it really him? What is he doing on Tommy’s estate? He had all the reasons to doubt, to protest, but the longer he stared at the boy, the more a memory of someone else’s face formed in his mind.
As clear as the day. Wavy brown hair. Pinkish cheeks. Bubbly face.
That was how she looked many, many years ago, in his father’s garage in Doherty.
In an instant, a spark ignited in his chest, a subtle sensation that grew larger. At first, Claude didn’t know how to react, until an indescribable surge of happiness washed over him as he laid eyes on the little boy for the first time. It defied words, the rush of emotions that any father would experience after being separated from his child for a long time.
He was beautiful, so beautiful that he couldn’t believe the boy was his.
Claude exited the car, and he saw that the boy was racing down the ramp. A vehicle was approaching, and an instinctive need to prevent the boy from venturing onto the roads spurred within him. He was about to run, but Tommy appeared and snagged the mini-car’s trunk, halting the boy’s reckless course. He scooped the boy into his arms, clearly frantic, when, in the heat of the moment, she came into view.
Perhaps it was how her short hair framed her face, the waves he’d once run his fingers through now gone. Or maybe it was the elusive aura that seemed to envelop her. Even as her eyes glistened with unshed tears while she wrapped the boy in her arms and held him close, she still possessed a kind of beauty Claude would never get tired of looking at.
Two and a half years. Two and a half fucking years and his Reena hadn’t changed a bit.
His longing to be near them cascaded within, a yearning that threatened to consume him. His heart hammered in his chest, echoing the rapid pace of his thoughts. He was ready, more than ever, to face her again, to let her know he was there, and he wasn’t afraid to come out until something made him stop in his tracks.
Claude’s breath hitched, his chest tight as if he’d been sucker-punched by a thousand fists.
Her lips… the lips he’d once felt on his own now yielded to Tommy’s. He held her close, their bodies pressed together, her face cupped by his hand.
Claude wanted to look away, to tear his eyes out of the sockets of his skull, to scream his heart out until his lungs fell, but he couldn’t.
In no time, he found himself back inside the car, planted into the driver’s seat, watching an affectionate scene unfold before him. When their lips parted, Reena smiled and placed her head on Tommy’s shoulder, her eyes closed as if she was enjoying every moment, her hands touching his chest.
Tommy had visited him before his release from the penitentiary, extending a hand of assistance and sharing some pieces of advice. He assured Claude that if he ever required anything, he was just a phone call away. Yet, Tommy insisted that he couldn’t go back to Reena because she already had a family of her own, telling him without a doubt to just let her go.
And when he came to 8-Ball, his friend told him the same thing – do not go to Reena. 8-Ball said he’d just hurt her, proof that Tommy’s warning was true, but he didn’t listen.
With each piece of the puzzle falling into its rightful place, an excruciating realization dawned on him. The people he’d placed his trust in, the ones he considered friends, every single one of them… even her.
They had betrayed him.
The ache in his chest intensified, a relentless reminder of the truth he couldn’t escape. Each passing second only seemed to deepen the sting, constricting his throat. His fingers dug into the unforgiving handle. Though Tommy had vanished from sight, Claude’s gaze remained fixated on the entrance.
A fight raged within him – should he barge in, force the car through the entrance, create chaos, and let his friend and his lover know he was there?
He gripped the gear shift and pushed it forward.
“You haven’t seen the girl,” Ken said, his voice cutting through the turmoil just as Claude was about to slam his foot on the gas clutch.
“What girl?” he asked, barely unable to speak as a seething growl accompanied his words. His breath flared, his gaze narrowing at the lawyer.
“About three months ago, Reena had a baby… A girl.”
His chest imploded, the weight of it all crushing him down. All the times he’d learned about these things, he never realized that the truth would come crashing down on him on a day when he was supposed to reunite with them.
Did his freedom even matter? It felt like it didn’t, and now, he wondered if it would’ve been better to remain incarcerated, to let his existence waste away behind bars.
This life didn’t seem worth living.
Reena stood at the gates, her gaze sweeping from side to side as if on a quest for something elusive. Then, her eyes shifted, landing on him, as if she knew he was there. Claude’s focus remained locked on her as he observed her tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. She engaged in conversation with a mobster by the gates, their words too distant for him to catch. In one final glance, her eyes found him once more before she turned away and left.
“Come on. I booked us rooms in Moonlite. You know, in Ocean Drive.”
Claude didn’t want to go anywhere else… not now when they were already within his reach. All he needed to do was fucking show up, but witnessing what he saw had disregarded all the things he hoped for and believed in, taking away even the slightest sliver of hope he had.
“I’ll help you get to Reena, okay? Just… just calm down right now. Let me handle this.”
If there was one thing he’d be never willing to let go of without retaliating, it was a betrayal. Catalina did it to him, and she was his lover. Now, Tommy did it to him too, and he was his best friend.
And Reena… had she betrayed him too?
All those hollow visits. The phone calls heavy with misery. The empty words of reassurance Tommy had left him to stew in during his prison days. Claude understood now why Reena had never responded, why she’d chosen silence. He realized why Tommy had often seemed jittery in his presence, unable to meet his gaze, seemingly wanting to say something that he couldn’t.
And at last, he grasped the unspoken truth that his friend had intended to convey in the State Penitentiary that fateful day…
Reena had a new family, and that family was him.
Notes:
Shout out to Kay! You awesome lady! <3
Thank you so much for reading <3
Chapter 87: Shadows
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
CLAUDE HADN’T SLEPT all night. He’d endured Ken Rosenberg’s loud snoring on the other bed, facing the wall where he wasn’t seeing him, but it wasn’t what kept him awake.
When Ken Rosenberg woke up, Claude didn’t move a muscle. He knew the lawyer was checking if he was already awake, but he remained still and kept his eyes closed, waiting and hoping for Ken to finally leave the suite. As soon as the door to the hotel clicked and he no longer felt his companion’s presence in the room, Claude opened his eyes, swung his feet on the edge of the bed, and stood.
His chest felt like a void, an echoing emptiness that matched the persistent ache in his heart. The room around him seemed to close in, suffocating him with the crushing weight of his thoughts. The heavy drapes that shielded him from the outside world swayed lethargically, almost taunting him with their indifference. They danced in a slow rhythm, responding to the air conditioner’s blow.
Claude’s fingers found the edges of the curtain, hesitating for a moment. With a deliberate pull, he slid the curtains apart, allowing a flood of daylight to invade the room. The sudden brightness assaulted his senses, a contrast to the darkness that seemed to cling to him.
The balcony lay before him. His gaze stretched across the expanse, taking in the panoramic view of Ocean Beach. The sand stretched like a canvas beneath the azure sky. Immaculate waters, kissed by the sun, sparkled with an allure. People bustled along the shore and stalls dotted the landscape, a promising glimpse of a world that Claude couldn’t immerse himself in.
Memories surged within him, vivid and bittersweet. He remembered that distant December when he and Reena had walked hand in hand along the shoreline. She wanted a coconut juice, he recalled, and her laughter had been as refreshing as the drink itself. And then there were the fire dancers, their performance igniting a spark within her eyes. He’d watched as her gaze had been drawn to the flames, a reflection of the fire that burned within her.
The night had woven its spell around them. Reena had tugged him into their room, her fingers interlocking with his. She had danced for him, shedding her clothes with each graceful movement. Her body had moved with a confidence that had both mesmerized and humbled him, and he’d watched, captivated, as layers of her clothes fell away, leaving only vulnerability and desire.
He’d never forget that. He’d never forget when he held her waist and danced her slow in front of the huge window overlooking the nightlife on the shores… that moment when he’d proven to himself that what he felt for her was more than just a budding affection.
Had he not brought her to Vice City and introduced her to Tommy, would she still be his?
Claude’s gaze lingered on the beach, on the place where those memories had been etched into his soul. But the ache of those moments now tore at him. The beauty of those days had been replaced by the harsh reality.
Reena was now dancing in the arms of another.
Of his friend.
They all slipped through his fingers. He wondered if he should even attempt to rekindle what had been lost. His grip on the curtain tightened, knuckles whitening as he fought the surge of emotions within him. Should he face her, knowing that she’d moved on? Could he bear to see her happiness with someone else?
The sunlight that spilled into the room seemed to mock him. As the world outside motioned with its beauty and life, Claude grappled with his own demons, unsure if he could ever bridge the gap between what was and what could have been.
He took a quick shower in desperation to wash away all the thoughts plundering his head, thoughts that filled his mind with things he’d rather not imagine. The water cascaded down, flushing through his hair and carrying with it the haunting thoughts he wished to escape. But no matter how hard he tried, the water couldn’t wash away what his eyes had witnessed.
Tommy kissed her, and she fucking kissed him back.
The chill of the water felt like a barrage of needles against his skin, a sensation that seemed to match the torment within him. It numbed his senses, spreading through his body like a shroud. And yet, despite the icy touch, his heartbreak remained overpowering.
Feeling helpless and adrift, he closed his eyes, hoping to shut out the world for a moment. The rush of water continued to fall around him, reminding him of the world he was trapped in. Everything felt devoid of meaning, and Claude could only seek solace in the temporary oblivion it offered.
He stepped out of the stall, and he pressed his damp, calloused palms on the counter sink, looking at his reflection through the hazy mirror fogged by steam. Water dripped from his hair, from the beard that covered his face, and he wondered, would Reena ever recognize him? He scanned the counter and the cabinet for a shave, but when he found one, he tossed it into the bin instead.
Could he find the guts to face her, knowing she had moved on with Tommy? Did she ever try to look for him? Wonder about him? Miss him? Did she even think about where he could be all those years? How could she just kiss someone else like he never existed?
He exited the bathroom in a daze, his steps as sluggish as his thoughts. He grabbed a towel without much purpose, almost as if he were on autopilot. His bag held next to nothing. Just three extra shirts and a pair of jeans. Was this how he wanted to appear in front of Reena? The thought gnawed at him, his uncertainty growing. The image of her smiling, her hand intertwined with Tommy’s, pierced his heart like a thousand sharp knives, causing his eyes to sting.
Claude stepped out of the suite and shut the door behind him. The moment the door clicked into place, a voice echoed in the corridor. He moved with deliberate slowness, each step sinking into the plush carpet beneath his shoes, muffling the sound of his footsteps as he advanced.
“Yeah, I’m setting up a meeting. Uh-huh, he’s seeing Reena.”
Ken Rosenberg. Who is he talking to?
“Yeah, I got in touch with someone. Yeah, yeah. Tommy’s throwing a farewell party in Malibu Club.”
Claude glanced around the corner, spotting the lawyer with his back turned, standing on one leg.
“We’ll take the chance. Tommy’d be in the club. I’ll be inviting her out. She’ll surely oblige.”
His chest constricted. There was something off about Ken Rosenberg, a feeling that had been bugging Claude for a while now. Each piece of the puzzle seemed to fall into place, deepening his suspicions. He knew how to contact Reena all along. If Ken truly wanted to help them reunite, why did he hold back information? And why did he choose this moment, in front of the Vercetti Estate in Vice City, to reveal that Tommy and Reena were already together?
“Alright, I’ll call you back. Goodbye, Mr. Le–” He paused, his expression turning puzzled as he glanced at his phone. “Asshole.”
“Who are you talking to?”
The lawyer jumped and spun around in an instant; his expression astonished. He quickly scooted to put his phone into his pocket, but his visibly shaking hand fumbled, causing the device to slip and fall to the floor. He managed to force out a nervous chuckle, stooping down to retrieve his phone, and then stood back up with a bitter grin on his face.
“Oh, hi Claude! I didn’t realize you were there!”
“You didn’t answer my question.”
Ken’s face turned pale. “It’s… It’s your sponsor.”
His brow arched. Sponsor? “Who the hell is he?” he asked as he squared his shoulders.
“In time, Claude. In time.” Ken Rosenberg strode past him rapidly, and when he’d distanced himself, the lawyer glanced back and waved a hand, gesturing for him to follow. “Come on, let’s have breakfast downstairs. It’s a buffet, complimentary.”
Despite their room’s balcony offering a pleasant view of Ocean Beach, the breakfast lounge left much to be desired. Not that Claude was particularly concerned, but the sight of a massive sewage waterway wasn’t exactly appetizing while eating. The overpowering stench emanating from the creek next to a nearby hospice certainly didn’t help.
The food options were limited, and none of them really caught Claude’s interest. Despite that, he recognized the necessity to eat. He selected a couple of buns and a patty, hurriedly added two slices of overripe tomato and limp lettuce to his plate, and drizzled a bit of dressing on the side. However, as he watched Ken Rosenberg indulge in a tower of pancakes drenched in butter and maple syrup, he found himself unable to muster the appetite to assemble his own meal. He made two attempts to take a bite, but both times he abandoned the effort, ultimately setting aside the plate he’d prepared.
“You gotta eat the food, Claude. They’re gonna charge us for leftovers.”
Although he hadn’t eaten, Claude idly tapped the bottom of his knife on the table. He wasn’t entirely certain why he was doing it. Maybe it was a way to distract himself from potential hunger or anger, or perhaps a blend of both emotions.
“Tomorrow night, your friend’s throwing a party in Malibu Club.”
Claude’s chin lifted slightly. “I don’t have a friend,” he remarked dryly.
Ken let out a scoff. “Tommy’s dishing out free passes to all his employees for the club shindig. Word from my contact.”
Claude’s brows furrowed. “Why are you telling me this?”
Albeit his mouth was full of a hodgepodge of food, Ken managed to gulp down a full glass of juice. Even after emptying the glass, he continued chewing, a sight that did nothing to improve Claude’s dwindling appetite.
“I’m gonna set you up a meeting with Reena.”
Claude halted his rhythmic tapping of the knife. “I’m not sure if I wanna see her.” He dropped the utensil, the silver clanking on the plate, and he leaned forward, keeping his glare on the lawyer. “You already knew how to contact Reena, but you didn’t tell me,” he said, unable to hide the growing ire in his voice.
Ken’s reaction was palpable. His shoulders tensed almost imperceptibly, and his eyes momentarily flickered with a mix of guilt and defensiveness. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, his fingers tapping on the table as if seeking an escape from the conversation. His attempt to appear nonchalant fell flat, evident in the way he cleared his throat and avoided direct eye contact.
“Look, Claude,” Ken began, his voice tinged with a hint of unease. “It’s not as simple as that. There were reasons...”
Claude glared at Ken, demanding an explanation that he’d been denied for too long. The lawyer’s defensiveness was like a thin shield that wavered under his scrutiny, and he could almost feel the tension radiating from Ken’s body.
“What if I don’t wanna do this anymore?”
The lawyer took a deep, heavy breath, barely able to lift his gaze toward Claude. Swallowing the food in his mouth and clearing his throat, Ken carefully set down his knife and fork on his plate. “You can’t give up now. You’re already here. I understand how tough it is to see her with someone else, especially your best friend, but you’ve got to fight for what’s rightfully yours, you know?”
Did it even matter that he was here in Vice City? All he could feel now was resentment, a bitter realization that his friend and his lover had created a family together – a family that was meant to be his.
“Anyway, there’s a bazaar happening right now, ending in a few days. I’m arranging for Reena to meet me there, and then I’ll bring her to you. The stalls are set up near the lighthouse. You wait for us there, okay?”
Claude nodded with a slight jerk of his head.
Ken seemed pleased. “Perfect.” The lawyer went on to finish the remaining piece of pancake on his plate. Once done, he glanced up at Claude and pointed at the untouched food. “You gonna eat that?”
Claude shook his head. “Suit yourself.”
While Ken indulged in breakfast, Claude’s mind got fixated somewhere else.
Malibu Club.
REENA LET OUT a big sneeze as she dug through her closet and drawers, revealing a bunch of clothes she’d stashed away. She rushed over to the window, flinging it open to let the dust escape and some fresh air in. Seeing her clothes all piled up reminded her how much she’d hoarded. Some were meant for the trash, and others didn’t fit anymore since she’d gained weight after having her baby. But there were also pieces she kept for the memories they held, even though they were now jumbled in the mix.
Claude’s black leather jacket had been sitting in the drawer, and this time, Reena picked it up without hesitation. She folded it neatly and tucked it into a small suitcase alongside her other belongings as she began getting things ready for their departure. She had also begun to pack Cleo and Tamia’s things, ensuring that she didn’t forget any essentials. When Mrs. Hubbard offered assistance, Reena politely declined, assuring her that she had it under control and suggesting she keep an eye on the children for a bit instead.
Curious about whether there were any crucial items she needed to organize for Tommy, Reena made her way to the office. She’d anticipated finding him there, but to her astonishment, he was nowhere to be seen. Contemplating the idea of searching for his contracts and business agreements, she rifled through the drawers, uncovering a collection of documents. As she flipped through the files, her attention occasionally shifted toward the door. Most of the documents contained information about offshore transactions, the process of money lending, and the acquisition of merchandise.
A torn, brown envelope at the bottom of the pile caught her eye.
“What’s this?”
Taking the envelope from the stack, she placed it on top of the folder. Her fingers fumbled as she opened the envelope to see its contents. Inside, she found a folded piece of paper. Clutching the folder to her chest, she unfolded the paper and let her eyes move from left to right, absorbing the words written in the letter addressed to her husband.
"You’re probably living out that vision you’ve been craving for ages."
As her eyes moved down the letter, a jolt of shock rippled through her. Her chest tightened, and she could feel her heart pounding in her ears. The words on the page seemed to blur for a moment as her mind struggled to process what she was reading.
“I heard that things with you and Reena are on the up and up. She’s back in the estate, right? Kind of poetic that she’d return even after catching you and Mercedes in the act. A saintly move, Tommy.”
The mention of their daughter and her and Tommy’s reconciliation hit her like a sudden gust of cold wind, leaving her confused. The paper in her hands felt slightly damp, and she realized her palms were sweating.
“After all, she also kissed you when she was still with her lover, didn’t she?”
They even knew about that night in the Waterview. The more she read, the deeper her brows furrowed at the center. With each word, the statements grew increasingly absurd and unfounded. It was as if the person behind this letter had an uncanny insight into their lives, into the very heart of their struggles and secrets.
“Oh, and you’ve been a true friend, haven’t you? You’ve kept that pact intact and honored your word.”
The door swung open, jolting her in an instant. Tommy lunged toward her from the doorway, snatching the thick folder and the brown envelope from her grasp. The suddenness of his movement caught her off guard, and Reena wasn’t prepared. The contents spilled out, fluttering to the floor like a cascade of leaves around their feet.
She crouched, scampering to gather the fallen papers. “Let me help you–”
“I’ll take care of it!” His voice raised, seemingly agitated. “Leave the office.”
“I just came to check if there were–”
“Reena, I said I can handle it,” he firmly claimed, quickly cutting her off.
Taken aback by her husband’s demeanor, Reena complied, releasing the papers she’d gathered. She headed for the door without uttering another word, her hand curling into a tight fist around the crumpled paper, concealing it in her palm.
“Reena,” Tommy called her out.
Reluctantly, she turned around, a subtle bead of sweat rolling down her forehead. Panic fluttered in her chest. “Yes?”
He tossed the papers back into the drawer carelessly and then approached her, gripping her waist. His eyes, which seemed fierce a moment ago had gone gentle. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to raise my voice.”
Breathing a sigh of relief, she returned his touch with her free hand, while the one that had gripped the paper slid onto the back of her jeans into her pocket. “It’s okay. I’m sorry too. I shouldn’t be touching your things when you’re not around.”
Tommy cupped her cheek. “Those files were just sensitive. Might mess up a deal or two if I don’t track them right. But you can go here anytime, check my phone if you like, my computer, everything…”
Reena nodded to show she understood and managed a strained smile. “I know. I trust you.”
His gaze softened as he looked at her, his brown eyes holding a warmth that seemed to reach into her soul. He tucked a loose strand behind her ear with a tender caress. As he leaned in closer, she caught a whiff of his cologne, a familiar and comforting scent that enveloped her senses. Yet, unbeknownst to him, concealed behind her smile, Reena clutched onto the letter, determined to finish it reading once she was alone.
“You’re coming with me to Malibu Club tomorrow, right?”
She smiled, her lips curving in response to his affectionate gesture. Tommy’s lips met hers in a brief yet tender kiss before he released his hold on her. Seizing the opportunity, Reena hurriedly left his office. With a determined pace, she made her way to their room, securing the door behind her. Alone in the quiet space, she retrieved the paper from her pocket, unfolding it once more. As her eyes traced the words on the page, her heart raced, its rhythm echoing in her chest like a drumbeat of apprehension and uncertainty.
A threat. The message directed at her husband held a clear undercurrent of intimidation, a sinister form of coercion meant to unsettle him.
“Hope you’re soaking in every ounce of joy these days, even if I regret to inform you that it won’t last forever.”
Sitting on the edge of the bed, Reena smoothed out the paper on the bedside table, her fingers tracing the lines of the message. She knew that later, she’d have to carefully return the letter to its place in Tommy’s drawer. She couldn’t help but think about the burden he carried, the weight of secrets he shielded her from to spare her worry. Her appreciation for him deepened, mingling with a growing concern for his safety that tugged at her thoughts.
As Reena slipped the paper back into her pocket, her phone buzzed, causing her to startle. The jumpy feeling seemed to intensify with each unexpected interruption. Was this the cost of sneaking around? Perhaps it was. And she acknowledged that she needed to put an end to this soon.
She quickly drew her phone out, seeing Ken Rosenberg’s name on her screen, blinking.
“Hi, Reena!” he greeted with great enthusiasm as if he’d been longing to speak with her so much. “How are you?”
With cautious steps, she walked toward the window, keeping herself away from the door. “Hi, Ken. I-I’m fine, thanks. What’s up?”
“I’m doing good, so well…” he muttered, excitement palpable in his voice. “Say, are you free tomorrow night? I just got to Vice City!”
A relieved sigh escaped her lips. It had been a while since she had spoken to Ken Rosenberg. She felt reassured that he was safe and back in Vice City. However, Tommy was planning a party for his employees, and he intended for her to accompany him.
“That’s nice to know, but I’m not sure if I can,” she replied reluctantly. “I’m going with Tommy tomorrow.”
“What a shame, I… I really wanna check out the lighthouse.”
Sympathy for Ken tugged at her heart. She still couldn’t fathom how he managed to navigate life without anyone to rely on. In some ways, she felt an urge to broach the topic with Tommy, to explore the possibility of reconciliation between them. After all, Ken had been a long-standing friend, and it felt unjust that their bond had been severed due to an unresolved issue that perhaps could have been forgotten in due time.
Feeling her guilt, Reena shook her head, retracting what she’d just said. “If it will be just quick, I could drop by.”
Maybe, she could take a detour to the shoreline and savor the tranquility of Ocean Beach under the cover of night, for what could be the last time. Meeting Ken Rosenberg was of lower importance on her list, but aside from yearning to relish the summer breeze by the beach, she considered the possibility that Ken might hold insights about the individual who was harassing Tommy. Seizing this chance, she could inquire whether he had any knowledge about the source of the threatening letter. What harm could it bring if she sought answers from him?
“Awesome!” Ken erupted in glee, his voice tinged with satisfaction. “Well, I’ll see you tomorrow night, seven?”
“Yes, seven sounds great. See you around.”
Reena made a silent vow to herself that she wouldn’t let doubt cloud her feelings for Tommy anymore, especially after she spoke with Mercedes, and she kept that promise. But there were questions she needed answers to, answers that could possibly soothe her confusion.
Leigh was engrossed in his phone as Reena approached the doorway of the foyer. She placed a comforting hand on his back. “Got any plans tomorrow night?”
The henchman met her gaze with uncertainty. Reena noticed a shift in Leigh’s behavior ever since Tommy’s return. He hadn’t approached her in person and seemed hesitant to be alone with her, which was quite unlike their previous interactions. She couldn’t help but wonder if he was feeling guilty about aiding her. However, she knew Leigh well enough to understand that he was the type of person who stood by her no matter what. He’d proven his loyalty when he kept her pregnancy a secret, and she trusted that he’d always have her back.
“Boss might ask us to do something, Miss Reena.”
Marcus appeared behind her, his nod carrying a blend of respect and a subtle undercurrent of caution. Reena returned his nod with a faint smile before shifting her attention back to Leigh. However, he seemed to avoid meeting her gaze. Reaching out, she gently touched his forearm, conveying her understanding and support through the subtle gesture. A small, knowing nod followed.
“Alright. I’ll just go by myself.”
“Why, Miss Reena? Where are you heading?” Marcus suddenly asked.
“To the bazaar,” she answered with a smile. “I heard it’s closing this weekend, so I gotta experience it before autumn comes. Maybe I could drop by for a short time.”
“Should the boss know where you’re going?”
The tone in Marcus’s inquiry held a disconcerting edge – aloof yet strangely vigilant. Reena sensed an underlying tension. She had no intentions of disclosing her meeting with Ken Rosenberg to Tommy. She knew all too well that her husband would undoubtedly disapprove.
“Don’t worry, Marcus, I’m telling him. If you want to get me watched, maybe you should let Leigh come with me.”
Leigh’s surprise was palpable in his gaze. Reena shot him a quick look, then arched an eyebrow in Marcus’s direction, silently questioning his demeanor.
“Sure, Miss Reena. Leigh will come with you to the bazaar.”
A surge of fear mingled with a faint sense of power coursed through her veins. She pressed her lips into a determined smile once more. “Thanks, Marcus,” she said, and then walked past the two brothers, making her way to the living room where Mrs. Hubbard was looking after Cleo and Tamia.
The air felt dense, and she couldn’t grasp why it seemed to constrict around her. Marcus’s tone had carried a sense of foreboding, while Leigh’s behavior had left her puzzled. Settling onto the cushion beside the bassinet, she placed a hand on her head, elbow resting on the armrest, and gazed at her peacefully sleeping daughter. A delicate melody played from the music box on the table, its twinkling notes marking each passing second. Across the room, Cleo was engrossed in coloring the sizable book that Earnest Kelly had gifted to him.
“Are you okay, dear?” Mrs. Hubbard asked. “Would you like me to get you some tea?”
Without a second thought, Reena nodded, and the elderly woman promptly exited the room. Left alone with her children, Reena’s gaze settled on the two of them – Cleo and Tamia. Soon, they’d all be departing from Vice City for good. But what would they be leaving behind, and what remnants of their time here would linger, shaping the course of her life from this point forward?
Curiosity killed the cat, she thought, but satisfaction would bring it back to life.
Notes:
Thank you! <3
Chapter 88: Disillusionment
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
INSIDE MALIBU CLUB, laughter and voices mingled in the air as Reena joined in the celebration with the Sunshine Autos employees. On the other side, groups of men from Tommy’s various enterprises formed circles, their conversations carrying over the joyful noises. Among them were Umberto Robina and the Los Cabrones, the truck drivers from the Cherry Popper Ice Cream Factory, Doris and the cab drivers of Kaufman Cabs, and Earnest Kelly, who accompanied the staff of Print Works. To say that she, too, was overjoyed to see the old man in the celebration was an understatement.
However, as the festivities continued, Reena’s enthusiasm waned as the people she knew began to leave. What was more, the knowledge that strippers were to arrive for some of Tommy’s personal employees was something she wasn’t particularly pleased with. She mustered the courage to approach Tommy and request to allow her to visit the bazaar in Ocean Beach instead. Though he was reluctant, Tommy agreed and imposed a condition: she had to be accompanied by either Marcus or Leigh.
Of course, she chose Leigh.
After kissing him goodbye, Reena left the confined and stifling atmosphere of the club. Stepping outside was a breath of fresh air, and even more so, invigorating when she finally made it to the Ocean Beach. She welcomed the salty tang of the sea breeze, replacing the smell of beer and smoke she endured. The open sky and the expanse of sand brought a sense of liberation, a contrast to the club’s suffocating walls. As she walked along the shoreline, the sound of the ocean waves splashing on the shore had somehow calmed her tense nerves…
…but not quite.
Walking along the shores with Leigh beside her felt oddly uncomfortable. He remained silent, his gaze fixed somewhere else… somewhere away from her.
He was avoiding her, and she needed to know why.
Approaching the makeshift arch that marked the entrance to the bazaar, the imposing silhouette of the lighthouse in the distance caught her eye. Seizing the moment, she moved closer to Leigh and nudged his arm.
“Hey,” she said, urging him to look at her. “What’s happening to you?”
Leigh squared his shoulders upright, stepping to his left as if maintaining a distance. “Nothing, Miss.”
Did he really expect her to believe that? “You can’t avoid me now,” she claimed, standing in front of him. “Did Tommy find out you helped me?”
Leigh puffed a heavy, anxious breath. “No, Miss. But Marcus did, and he warned me.”
“Warned you for what? For helping me?”
“For betraying Boss.”
“So, helping me now means you’re betraying my husband?!”
“It’s not like that,” Leigh retorted, walking past her toward the entrance to the bazaar, and Reena couldn’t do anything but sigh in disbelief. Leigh never did this to her, ever, even when she brought him with her to 8-Ball’s auto yard where they got ambushed. He never left her side, protected her at all costs, and kept her secrets. But now? He was refusing to talk to her, let alone to look at her.
She trailed behind his footsteps, her feet tracing a sluggish pattern in the sandy ground until she finally passed through the archway. A delightful scene awaited her as she stepped into the heart of the bazaar. The line of stalls came alive with vibrant and vivid lights that sparkled under the starlit skies. Coconut and palm trees swayed in harmony with the soft, caressing breeze, lending an enchanting view of the surroundings.
A throng of people congregated around the stalls, their faces curious as they explored the offerings. The displays boasted an array of trinkets, each adorned with the glisten of clam shells and pearls. Close by, a shop proudly showcased a collection of Hawaiian dresses and decorative items. The air was tinged with a blend of appetizing scents, the aroma of grilled meats wafting from nearby food stands.
It was a superb place to be in… but somehow, to Reena, it didn’t feel like it.
She followed Leigh, though she dared not to call him out at all. She wanted to probe why it was disloyalty, whatever that meant, but her chest just groaned in disappointment. If Leigh didn’t want to talk to her, then fine. She’d give him the space he wanted.
Crossing her arms over her chest, she cast her gaze across the colorful array of stalls, hoping to find a respite – something, anything to divert her attention. Besides Mrs. Hubbard, Leigh was the confidant she could rely on the most. There were thoughts she hesitated to share with the old woman, matters that seemed better suited for Leigh’s understanding. He saw her as an individual, a friend, rather than merely Tommy’s wife, a distinction that set him apart from the rest, even from Marcus.
Pushing aside her frustration, Reena began to understand that maybe Leigh’s silence was about staying safe – for both of them. It could be his way of avoiding clashes with Tommy, evading any prying questions or doubts that might crop up.
And so, as she continued her mindless strides, the letter emerged in Reena’s mind. An urge to show it to Leigh began, to share what she’d found inadvertently in Tommy’s office. What if he knew where it came from? She was willing to take the gamble, to see if Leigh might hold any answers.
A familiar scent grabbed her attention. Snapping back from her thoughts, she turned to a nearby stall. It was piled with green coconuts, and the vendor was deftly hacking them open with a massive blade. The sweet juice spilled onto the wooden board in a tempting display. The vendor poured the liquid into a plastic cup, added a dash of milk and toasted sugar, and then popped in a straw to complete the concoction.
She couldn’t quite recall how she ended up so close to the cart. She had a vague memory of standing a good distance away from it, but suddenly, there she was, right in front of the vendor, gazing at the drinks on display.
“I’m getting a cup, please.”
She didn’t even order it that time. Claude did.
“Here you go.”
She gripped the slightly damp cup, its rim sticky with sugar and the ice cubes nearly reaching the brim. Her mouth felt dry, almost as if a lump had formed in her throat. Then, an unexpected surge of emotion rose within her, welling up like a tide. It ascended to her eyes, igniting a burning sensation. Her vision blurred, and before she knew it, a drop of tear traced a path down her cheek.
“Hey, I want that one too! Lemme pay for her cup!”
Reena started, shifting her gaze to the side. There, Ken Rosenberg stood, extending his hand toward the vendor, a few bills held between his fingers. At that moment, she found herself at a loss for words, unable to greet or even summon a breath from her lungs.
“You okay, Reena? I saw you in the arch back there but you seemed out of your thoughts…”
She managed a strained nod. “I am, thank you.” Leaning in for a quick embrace, she offered a friendly pat on Ken’s back. “It’s nice to see you...”
How could she have forgotten about him? Ken was the real purpose why she wanted to go to the bazaar. They were to meet – to catch up – but all the invasive thoughts she was having had definitely thrown her out of the loop.
Ken hugged her back before reaching for his cup of juice, and then he looked at his wristwatch. “You’re just right in time!”
They began walking toward the lighthouse, the radiant lights from below casting dancing reflections on the walls. Reena took another sip from the cup, hoping to rediscover that familiar flavor. However, the taste didn’t align as she expected, and she felt somehow off. She stirred the drink with the straw, clinging to the possibility that the flavors hadn’t fully melded. Yet, after another attempt, she was forced to acknowledge that the once-relishing drink had lost its allure.
It didn’t taste so sweet just like back then when she had it with Claude.
“What brings you back here?” she asked. She compelled herself to take another sip, recognizing that she hadn’t paid for the drink. Wasting it would be impolite.
“Oh, some business. I’m meeting a friend in the lighthouse.”
“You’re meeting with someone?”
“We are,” he snickered. “I went to Vice City with him. I want you to meet him.”
“I’m not sure it’s necessary–”
“It’s alright, don’t worry. You’re gonna like him!”
Leigh was nowhere in her sight, which made her worry a bit. The lighthouse loomed larger as they approached, and Reena couldn’t resist looking up at its towering peak, casting a brilliant beam of light onto the sea.
The drink in her hand tasted bland, the ice within having melted, leaving behind a tasteless flavor. The desire she had for coconut juice had now faded, leaving only the lingering presence of sugar’s empty sweetness.
Reena pondered how to broach her concerns with Ken. He appeared to be thoroughly enjoying himself, his gaze sweeping from side to side in the picturesque scene that she struggled to appreciate. Bringing up the topic of Tommy felt potentially rude, considering their strained relationship. Yet, she needed to find a way to inquire about the letter without being too direct.
“I’m surprised Tommy let you come here,” Ken remarked, casually discarding the cup into a nearby bin, the diluted contents spilling onto the sand. “It doesn’t have a taste anymore.”
“Mine doesn’t taste anything either.”
“Let me throw that for you.”
Handing her cup to Ken, he discarded it in the bin with a casual toss before rubbing his hands together. Reena’s gaze shifted ahead, noticing another makeshift arch a few yards away.
“Ken,” she mustered herself to speak. “I have something to ask…”
“What is it?” he asked, casually glancing at her with a rather banal gaze. He drew his cell from his pocket, pressed a button, and put it close to his ear.
“Do you know anyone who sends Tommy intimidating mails?”
She was met with silence. Ken’s face churned, his eyes narrowing.
“Why isn’t he answering my call?!” Ken murmured, seemingly unaware of the question she asked. He looked at his phone agitatedly, pressing the button once more and putting the device on his ear.
Reena bit her lip, realizing it was the wrong timing. They walked through the archway, and she observed her companion closely. Although he’d invited her to explore the bazaar with him, he didn’t appear eager to engage in conversation. The atmosphere had become awkward, and Reena couldn’t quite pinpoint why she felt so uneasy.
Ken tossed his cell back into his pocket, his expression laced with frustration. “What is it that you’re gonna ask?” he suddenly inquired, his raised eyebrow directed at her. To her chagrin, he was staring at her without much enthusiasm either.
Cut to the chase, Reena, she thought to herself, clearing her throat and stopping in her tracks, causing Ken to halt as well. Folding her arms once again, she faced him and tilted her head. “What’s your misunderstanding with Tommy?”
Ken suddenly chuckled and scratched his head. His response wasn’t what she had anticipated.
Was he appeased that she finally asked, or was he mocking her for not knowing?
“Tommy, your husband,” he began, his tone seeming to emphasize the last word, “has the kind of attitude where he keeps what’s useful to him and disposes of anything that’s not.”
Reena squinted. “You mean, he disposed of you because you’re not useful?”
That seemed to strike a nerve as Ken’s expression sharply changed. His smile morphed into a sour frown, effectively providing her with an answer. She thought she heard him scoff, and his hands, once held out in front of him, now retreated into his pockets, vanishing beneath the fabric of his trousers.
“Yes, he did, and that’s exactly the reason why.”
“I… I don’t understand,” she responded, letting her arms fall to her sides. “Why would Tommy do that to you?”
Tommy wasn’t like that. If he really was the kind of person Ken Rosenberg was claiming him to be, why did he keep Maude Hanson in the factory? Doris in the depot? Earnest Kelly in Print Works? Someone younger and more skillful could replace them anytime, yet, Tommy didn’t “dispose of” them.
“He abandoned me, Reena. Stripped me off with everything I had,” Ken muttered, his voice tinged with menace. “He sent me to a rehab in Bone County and left me there to fend for myself. When I came back, he didn’t welcome me. I was homeless. I had nothing. And yet, I tried to salvage what we still had, but he only threw a bunch of dollars like I was a beggar.”
Reena’s knees wavered as the words hit her like a sudden electric shock. She stood there, her mind racing to reconcile what he said with what she knew. Ken’s words settled heavily, laden with palpable resentment that was now laid bare.
Tommy cut his ties with him. When he came into Angel Pine, no Ken Rosenberg was standing beside him on the front porch. When she arrived in Vice City, no Ken Rosenberg was found in the Vercetti Estate.
“Did he really do that to you?” she asked in disbelief.
Ken’s eyes bore into Reena with a mixture of, as far as she could tell, pity and exasperation. Then, he began to walk away. “You still don’t know him that much, do you?” Ken grumbled, his hand swiping across his face in frustration. “Tommy treats everyone and everything as merchandise. Like me, I’m no longer useful. Like Mercedes, she’s no longer attractive to him. Like Claude, because he already got want he wanted.”
“Like Claude?” she asked. “What do you mean like Claude?”
Ken paused, his back still turned to her. The sea breeze grew stronger, sending a shiver across her exposed skin. With a deep breath, he turned around to meet her gaze, his lips forming a tight line. “I thought maybe you’d figure it out, sooner or later,” he said. “Just like the rest of us, you’re nothing more than merchandise to Tommy.”
“What– I, I don’t understand…” she mumbled, confusion wrapping around her head. “I… I found a letter in his drawer, and it says some sort of a threat to him, to us. If what you’re telling me is true, why is he–”
“W-Wait, hold on a second,” Ken interrupted, a cackle escaping him, seeming to hit a nerve in Reena’s temples. He lifted a hand and pointed at her with a hint of disbelief and mockery in his expression. “You found my letter?!”
Reena’s breath hitched, her eyes widening. “That letter was from you?”
“I suppose you found the other paper,” he said, his snicker becoming brighter. “What about the voicemails? Has he told you about them–”
“Miss Reena!”
Shit.
Leigh dashed from behind, and as she turned around to meet him, she recognized a certain panic in his eyes. He was glowering, livid, his fists clenched on his side. Reena’s gaze shifted between him and Ken Rosenberg, making her realize that Leigh’s aggressive reaction was toward her companion.
Tommy couldn’t know.
“I’m sorry, Ken, but I gotta go now,” she said, stepping away from the lawyer little by little. “I have to go back to Malibu.”
“B-But Reena, wait–”
She seized Leigh’s wrist and tugged him away from Ken Rosenberg, their steps hastening under the noise of the bazaar. Amid the vibrant stalls and bustling crowd, Reena maintained her firm hold on his strong arm, and Leigh offered no resistance. Everything was overstimulating – the bright lights, the blaring music, the multitude of murmurs from the crowd. She bumped into people along the way, but she couldn’t care less.
It felt like forever to walk through that bazaar, as if it were a maze with no way out. When she caught a glimpse of the archway, Reena's brisk steps turned into a run. As they finally passed through the threshold, she came to a breathless halt. She faced Leigh, her chest heaving, her eyes locking onto his, desperation growing in her chest.
“Please don’t tell Tommy. I beg you, Leigh…”
A crestfallen expression was etched across the henchman’s face, his massive hands coming up to press against his head in a gesture of frustration. Each passing moment seemed to magnify Reena’s growing belief that Leigh’s patience with her was wearing thin. Perhaps Marcus had been correct in his assessment. Instead of offering reassurance and soothing her suspicions, Leigh appeared to be indulging her, thereby betraying Tommy’s trust. His face was a blank canvas, unreadable, and with each gaze that Reena directed at him, a sense of shame and remorse gnawed at her. The weight of her actions settled heavily upon her chest.
But he couldn’t tell Tommy.
“We need to return to the club, Miss Reena. And if you’re worrying about me telling Boss, I won’t. Both of us would find ourselves in trouble if I did.” Leigh walked away, leaving a trail of dense steps on the sand as he strode toward the roadside where their car was.
Left alone to confront her own thoughts, Reena felt a familiar sting in her eyes. It was becoming clear why Asuka and Maria had responded so strongly to Ken, and why Mercedes had implied it was for the best that Tommy had distanced himself from him.
He said she was just merchandise to Tommy. And like his other properties, he had a use for her. What use? She found herself torn between skepticism and a growing need to understand more, but one thing was for sure.
Ken’s intentions were far from genuine.
How could she have allowed herself to be so naive? Hadn’t the lessons from her past experiences taught her anything?
Resigned, Reena trailed after Leigh’s footsteps, her disappointment in herself growing with each step, realizing that she’d trusted the wrong person all along…
Notes:
Thank you!
Chapter 89: Head to Head
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
THE VERCETTI GANG members poured into The Malibu Club, filling the space with their presence, excitement, and energy.
This wasn’t just any night – it was Tommy’s farewell party, and with just a handful of weeks left before he and his family moved on to new horizons, Tommy wanted to give his best shot to the people who’d shown him loyalty and hard work over the past few years.
Inside, the club’s interior transformed into a kaleidoscope of flashing lights, splashing a captivating array of colors across the sprawling dance floor. These vibrant hues danced in harmony with the music’s rhythm, weaving an intoxicating mania of light and sound that served as the vibe for the night’s event.
Indeed, it was an amazing celebration.
The bar area bustled as gang members lined up to order drinks of their choice. Bartenders worked tirelessly, crafting cocktails and pouring glasses of various beverages. The clinking of glasses and the clatter of ice cubes resonated along with the peals of chortle and jolly conversations.
Through it all, Tommy leaned on the bar’s counter while holding an empty snifter in his hand, grinning as he watched his mobsters let loose. Beside him, Earnest Kelly stood, watching the men in inexplicable awe.
“So, this is final…” the old man said as he gripped Tommy’s shoulder, his smile painting a hopeful glimmer. “Remember, sonny, once you turn around, you should never look back.”
“I’ll still visit once in a while, Pops. And this ain’t the last time I’m seeing you before I go,” Tommy retorted, feeling a twinge in his chest. “We’ll go to you, me, Reena, and the kids.”
Earnest Kelly chuckled, his soft laughter remarked his old age. “Well then, I’ll see you soon. Gotta go now. Your old man don’t belong here no more…” He tugged his gaze around, seeing the change in the atmosphere as girls in lesser clothes began to trudge in. “No wonder your wife wanted to be outta here…”
“Want me to drive you home?”
“Nah, I got the staff with me. Enjoy the night, sonny.”
As Earnest Kelly left, the center of the club transformed into a hub of activity. The dazzling lights that illuminated the space became intricate and seductive, turning into sultry red and velvety darkness. Everyone’s attention was drawn to the dancing strippers who moved with grace and allure on the stage. Their performances were sensual, captivating the mobsters with their titillating routines. Whistles and cheers erupted from the crowd, adding to the infectious energy that permeated the room.
“Boss, you should join the fun!” Mike’s voice was nearly drowned in the boisterous cheers and laughter. Amid the neon glow and thumping music, a vivacious stripper adorned in a cowboy hat, pasties, thongs, and boots performed a seductive dance for him, her every move captivating the gaze of the enraptured and envious crowd. The other gang members rallied around, their raucous cheers and wolf whistles punctuating the night.
As the music thrummed on, the stripper skillfully pulled Mike to his feet, her confident grip leading him toward one of the club’s private rooms. Amid the chorus of hoots and jeers from his fellow mobsters, Mike’s voice could be heard calling out to Tommy, his words of eagerness. Yet, Tommy remained unfazed, reclining nonchalantly against the bar. With a dismissive wave, he bid Mike farewell with a sly grin at the corners of his lips.
“These damn goons are havin’ a blast tonight,” the bartender remarked with a wry smirk, his movements swift and practiced as he polished the glasses before Tommy. He reached for a tequila bottle, pouring a generous measure into a shot glass. “But you know, Boss, I don’t see the other big guy around. Where’s he at?”
“Leigh’s with my wife in the bazaar,” Tommy said, barely shouting amid the blaring music.
The bartender’s gaze flickered toward the entrance, where Marcus stood with an air of vigilance, his watchful eyes tracing the movements of the reveling men. “That guy can’t seem to let his guard down…”
Tommy leaned closer to the bartender to ensure his words were heard. “That’s just how he is. No need to fret about him.” His gaze momentarily shifted to the private rooms where the festivities seemed to have taken a more intimate turn.
“Wife’s lovely, I saw her earlier,” the bartender remarked, his lips curling with a touch of admiration, a comment that drew Tommy’s attention. “Must be wonderful to have a family of your own…”
“Yeah, you’re damn right,” Tommy affirmed with a proud heart. He released the now-empty snifter and reached for the shot glass brimming with tequila, downing it in one smooth motion. The salt and lime followed, but even as he went through the motions, a furrowed brow betrayed the unease simmering beneath the surface.
“Vice City ain’t the kind of place for a woman like your wife. And it sure ain’t fit for a man with a family like you.”
Tommy agreed, his gaze locking onto the bartender’s eyes. “That’s why we’re moving,” he declared, the words firm and resolute.
His hopes reached far beyond the city’s grip, painting a future alive with his desire to gift his family a life untouched by the shadows. He imagined a peaceful haven, far from the world that had once steered his path. A cozy home in a safe neighborhood, where Cleo and Tamia could giggle without restraint and Reena could find genuine joy. He yearned for the ordinary pleasures he’d missed for so long – easygoing Sunday mornings crafting pancakes, afternoons in the park chasing butterflies, and evenings gathered around the table sharing moments and laughter. His dreams held a simple charm, a world where he could be a husband and father, liberated from the specter of his criminal past. Every step away from Vice City was a stride toward these aspirations, toward redemption, a promise of a brighter existence.
But beyond these dreams, an urgent need pushed him forward. Escaping Vice City wasn’t just a far-off goal – it was now a must. He had to get Reena out of reach, to a place where Claude couldn’t find and get her. The looming uncertainty of Claude’s release clawed at Tommy’s chest, stirring a blend of fear and doubt. His sacrifices, the careful web he’d spun to shield Reena from the truth and himself from pain, felt like they were hanging by a thread. The reality hovered close, ready to spill out at any moment, and time was slipping through his fingers.
He took a swig, one shot glass after the other, losing count of how much he’d already drunk.
A woman positioned herself next to him, pulling him out of his musings. She lounged against the bar and showcased her ample assets, clearly putting her silicon enhancements on display. Tommy regarded her with curiosity, unsure whether she was one of the strippers or not.
“Want some hot stuff, handsome?” Her voice laced with a playful edge, she sensually ran her tongue along her lower lip, all the while casting a suggestive glance toward his crotch.
Tommy scoffed and drained another shot of tequila, the bitter, salty, and sour blend sending a fiery shiver down his throat. He casually raised his left hand, the gleam of his wedding ring catching the woman’s eye. “Already got my hottest stuff,” he snickered, flipping the shot glass onto the bar before waving a hand outward.
The woman’s eyes rolled dismissively before she turned and strode off. The bartender erupted into laughter, thoroughly entertained by the woman’s swift departure.
Tommy simply shrugged and shook his head. “I don’t know what she’s expecting,” he chuckled.
“Even without the missus…” the bartender chimed in, his affirmation evident. He slid another shot glass to Tommy, and he accepted it without hesitation.
“Can’t afford to waste a second chance,” Tommy mumbled, then downed the shot and set it down with a resounding thud. Retrieving his wallet, he produced his card and handed it over to the bartender.
“You’re leavin’ now, Boss?”
Pulsating lights danced in Tommy’s vision, blinking relentlessly. He winced, attempting to scan the club and gauge the activities of the others. In a corner, a couple of his mobsters were entwined, sharing torrid kisses, while elsewhere, pairs were emulating Mike’s lead, making their way to private rooms.
Seeing his mobsters and employees enjoy themselves put a pang of nostalgia in his chest, but Tommy wouldn’t miss the opportunity to start a new life with his wife and children somewhere else, away from here.
“Yeah,” he said, giving his nose a rub with the back of his hand, sniffing a fair bit. Sliding a hundred-dollar bill onto the counter, he playfully tapped the bartender’s arm, leaving him somewhat shocked by his generosity. “The twins will put these bastards in line later. Can you give me a bottle of beer?”
“Sure, Boss,” the bartender said and gave him what he asked for.
Tommy left the bar and strolled over to Marcus, giving his shoulder a friendly pat and handing him the bottle. “This is a celebration, Marcus, not another dealership.” He cackled, gripping the henchman’s shoulder firmly. “How come you’re not having a drink?”
“On duty, Boss,” Marcus responded with a mischievous smile on his face, but he grabbed the bottle nonetheless. “Do you need anything?”
“Has Leigh told you if they’re on their way back?”
Marcus glanced at his phone, shaking his head. “No, Boss. Not yet. Want me to call them?”
“Yeah, tell Leigh I’m going there to pick up my Reena.”
“Will do, Boss.” Marcus squinted at him. “You up for driving? Want me to drive you?”
Tommy removed his hand from Marcus’s shoulder. “Is there anything Tommy Vercetti can’t handle?”
Amid the frenzied activities of the crowd, Tommy exited the club. Stepping beyond the threshold, the contrast in the air struck him immediately – a massive change from the stifling, moisture-laden atmosphere he’d just been inhaling. He couldn’t help but marvel at how he had endured the heavy, congested ambiance in the club. No wonder it felt suffocating in there.
The vivid, vibrant neon hues of the Malibu Club’s pink lights spilled onto the sidewalk, casting a radiant glow that illuminated his path. He trudged onward, his steps resonating on the pavement as he headed toward the rear parking lot. Despite the area being occupied by an array of vehicles, it was conspicuously devoid of any human presence, at least to his still discerning eye.
A single car, distinct from the rest, somehow drew his focus – an unfamiliar sight. A white Admiral. Then again, the possibility lingered that perhaps he was too dazed to distinguish between each vehicle nestled within the parking lot’s confines.
Under the enveloping sway of the tequila’s influence, a haze seemed to encircle his thoughts. He reached into his pockets, fingers clumsily searching for the key to his Cheetah. Leaning slightly, he pressed his hand against the car’s roof, his posture a tad unsteady as he grappled to slot the key into its designated hole.
The initial try proved fruitless, much to his frustration. “For fuck’s sake,” he grumbled, bending slightly to gain a clearer view of the keyhole. Making another attempt, he repeatedly missed the mark, the key eluding its rightful slot. A chuckle escaped Tommy’s lips despite the situation. How on earth could he hope to make love with his wife tonight if he couldn’t even manage to insert a key into the hole?
Maybe, he should've taken Marcus's offer.
Someone called out to him, or so he thought. But it could be the voice of tequila in his head. He didn't look back, and footsteps crunched from his behind, but Tommy couldn’t care less. It could be one of his indulging henchmen that had sought the reprieve of fresh air for all he knew. Tommy continued his quest to open his very own car door, quite a struggle, all the while imagining how he’d sweep Reena off her feet and kiss her deeply once he saw her.
Hopefully, Leigh wasn’t in a hurry–
“Tommy!”
The call didn't seem slurred at all. In fact, the voice sounded familiar.
Tommy's face churned, making him pivot.
A strong hand clawed his shoulder, then, a raging fist crashed into his face, a shocking impact that violently flung him to the ground. The world whirled in a disorienting swirl of stars, dizziness conquering his senses. His suit was suddenly gripped tightly, another brutal strike finding his jaw. The rapid succession of events was almost surreal, each blow a jolt to his system.
The distinct metallic tang invaded his mouth, flooding his taste buds with the unmistakable taste. The sensation left no doubt that somewhere, from one of the cuts that had been opened, blood was surging forth.
Caught entirely off-guard, Tommy found himself momentarily paralyzed, unable to muster an instant response. The key slipped from his grip, clattering against the pavement, as he pressed the heels of his palms into the ground, a determined effort to regain his footing. But once again, he was seized by an unyielding force, a precursor to another shot aimed at his face.
Instinct fueled his reaction this time. He leaned backward, using the motion to propel his head forward, a desperate and uncalculated headbutt. The impact reverberated instantly through his temples, sending a wave of dizziness rippling through his already muddled senses. The grip on his suit slackened, though a lingering, faint hold remained.
Summoning every ounce of strength, he pushed his attacker away, the two of them reeling from the exchanges of violence. Tommy was ensnared in a disorienting haze, the effects of the beatings gnawing at his sense of balance.
Barely a few damn seconds had elapsed before the man lunged at him once more, launching an assault that sent them crashing to the ground in a tangled struggle. The rough pavement met the back of his head with a jarring thud, eliciting an involuntary grunt of pain. Acting on instinct, Tommy raised his forearms to shield his face from the oncoming barrage.
His attacker maintained a relentless assault, raining down blows with ferocious determination. Each strike resonated with an almost rhythmic force, and Tommy fought to deflect the impacts with his makeshift shield of forearms, the violent exchanges blurring into a disorienting pain and motion.
Was he just going to let this bastard shit on him?
Pushed to his limits, Tommy’s fingers closed around the key lying on the ground near one of the tires, and in a swift motion, he brandished it at his assailant’s face, the sharp edge grazing the man’s cheek. Tommy was certain it left a mark as the attacker jolted and cursed, causing him to stop.
Seizing the opportunity, Tommy exerted all his strength to shove the man away, granting him the moment needed to regain his footing. With haste, he leveraged his position, launching a swift kick toward his assailant’s stomach. The impact forced the man into a roll on the ground, grunting in pain. Tommy’s breathing was labored, his heart pounding in his chest as he scrambled to assert control over the situation.
Before Tommy could strike again, however, the man managed to gather his resolve and rolled away, putting enough distance between them to rise to his feet once more, ready to face Tommy anew.
Alcohol, in its most potent form, had the power to reduce individuals to utter madness. Tommy pondered if the right amount could bring someone back to life, even the ones that burried themselves ever so willingly.
His mind was an utter chaos, a storm he acknowledged with a bitter pang of regret. Downing that significant volume of liquor within the club now seemed like a dire misstep. He ought to be en route to Ocean Beach, cruising down the streets to meet his wife. Yet, here he was, his feet seemingly cemented to the unforgiving pavement, his headspace a scrambled, shattered mess.
But even in the turmoil of his thoughts, in the haziness of his vision, and in the ominous darkness and desolation, he couldn’t deny recognition. Those eyes and that face were etched indelibly in his memory. The wound Tommy had inflicted was just in his left cheek, red and bleeding. But despite this, Tommy couldn’t be misled.
He would never mistake his old friend for anyone else.
“Speed?!”
“Son of a bitch!” Claude’s voice exploded, a blend of roughness and thunder that carried an ominous weight, intensifying the threat that hung in the air. “I told you to take her, to protect her… not to marry and fuck her!”
Claude charged again and wrestled him at the trunk of his car, denting the compartment’s lid with their weights combined. Tommy held on to Claude’s collars, holding him up close to his face.
It was truly him. The shock of encountering Claude in this place and at this time coursed through him. A fleeting sense of relief came first, knowing that he’d spared Reena from witnessing this confrontation by allowing her to go with Leigh to Ocean Beach. He couldn’t bear the thought of her seeing him like this, bruised and beaten up. But then, fear surged relentlessly, realizing how close the truth was.
Tommy couldn’t bear the thought of her and Claude seeing each other.
No. It can’t be.
“I warned you...” Tommy croaked, his breath ragged as he struggled for air. “You should’ve stayed away from here.”
The next blow struck with blinding force, a savage impact that burst something within him. Pain surged as blood and saliva mingled, spilling from his mouth, and he fought to maintain consciousness.
“Reena doesn’t want to do anything with you…” he murmured, but Tommy made sure his voice was clear enough for Claude to hear. “She knew you abandoned her, you abandoned them, and she fucking despised you!”
What if Reena saw him? What if… after all these years, after all they’d been through, she still hadn’t moved on from Claude? No, that was impossible. His wife loved him. His wife would choose him and their family over someone who left her and kept her in the dark. His Reena could and would never leave him behind.
Tommy attempted to fight back, but Claude’s fist landed on his gut. He slid down the rough surface of the car to the ground. The unyielding, frigid concrete met his cheek as he lay sprawled face down, humiliated and defeated.
“I’m gonna fucking kill you…” Claude said.
The sound of Claude’s footsteps receded as he walked away. Through half-shuttered eyes, Tommy’s gaze tracked his fading figure. Just as he thought Claude had left, he returned, and in his blurred vision, Tommy caught a glimpse of him with a weapon.
A baseball bat in hand, and Tommy’s eyes began to fully close as Claude raised his arms at full speed…
Notes:
Thank you!
Chapter 90: Close Call
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
LEIGH SLAMMED HIS hand onto the horn, the blaring sound cutting through the air like a sharp accusation aimed at the sluggish cars blocking the path even after the green light had blinked. The four-door green sedan directly ahead answered with an indignant honk of its own, accompanied by its driver thrusting an arm out of the window in a rude gesture that needed no translation. Reena observed Leigh’s eyes sharpened. With a weary sigh, she turned her attention back to the windscreen, her gaze fixed on the road ahead as if seeking solace in the distant horizon.
As they finally reached the expanse of the open road, Leigh maneuvered into the adjacent lane, exploiting its vacant stretch to glide past the still-cursing driver. A flicker of relief danced through Reena’s chest, thinking that the confrontation was at an end, but she couldn’t be more wrong. Leigh surged forward with a sudden swiftness, cutting a bold path through the sedan’s trajectory. It was a daring move, a statement of dominance, as he claimed the space in front of the sedan with unapologetic audacity. Then, Leigh responded predictably, winding his window down and extending an arm, his middle finger erected.
Reena rolled her eyes, and then she leaned forward, turning the air conditioner off. The air inside had turned stale and suffocating. She cracked open her window too, inviting the breeze to come in. A small hope lingered that the rush of fresh air might work its magic, easing whatever was eating at her.
Deep down, though, she knew it couldn’t.
They sped down Ocean Drive. Reena settled into her seat, sulking in silence. Her heart still beat like a drum, the memory of terror fresh, ever since Leigh had caught her speaking with Ken Rosenberg in the bazaar. Explaining was futile now. Leigh’s silence said everything she needed to know. At least he promised not to spill the beans to Tommy. For now, that was what was important.
“Hey, Marcus,” Leigh’s voice thundered. Reena looked in his direction, the phone pressed to his ear. “Yeah, we’re heading back. Almost there. What’s up?”
Reena sighed. It hadn’t been more than a couple of hours since they’d walked out of Malibu Club. Tommy had been having a blast, that was certain. She didn’t want to be the reason for dampening his spirits among the employees, but she surely wasn’t ready to face the strippers at the club. They carried too many reminders of her past.
“Boss is picking her up?” Leigh’s question cut through her reveries once more, his gaze flicking toward her. “We’re already on the road. I don’t spot the Cheetah anywhere…” He craned his neck a bit, attempting to peer ahead at the road, but none of the passing cars resembled Tommy’s ride. Lowering the phone slightly, Leigh turned his attention to Reena. “Miss, has Boss given you a call?”
She quickly checked her phone. “N-No, he didn’t.”
The brilliant lights of Malibu Club beckoned in the distance, their radiance unmistakable amid the sea of other glowing dazzles. The path leading to the club’s entrance was slightly congested with vehicles. They eased off the gas pedal, a temporary delay, but at least, Reena reflected, they were nearly there. She welcomed the nearing destination, sparing herself from another bout of sharing the car with someone who so evidently abhorred conversation with her.
“No, Boss hasn’t given the miss a call. Yeah, sure, we–” Leigh paused, his face contorting. “Hey, what’s going on there–”
A white car raced toward them, its headlights blinding her and Leigh for a millisecond.
“Shit!”
Their sudden shift launched them into an unexpected drift, the tires screeching on the road with a sharp, unforgiving noise. They veered out of their lane, their car heading straight to the other. Leigh gripped the wheel tightly, trying to regain control in a frantic struggle, narrowly preventing them from slamming into a lamppost.
Reena’s world tilted in a dizzying whirl, her body thrown off balance by the chaos. But the seatbelt held her in place, preventing her from knocking onto the dashboard.
As if it weren’t ending, their car came to a shuddering halt. They came face to face with the white car… the very cause of their almost crash. Leigh, his eyes wide with shock, clutched the steering wheel, his knuckles pale white. Reena found herself pushing back against the seat, the strain in her legs coursing up through her torso.
Their headlights flickered against each other, their beams intersecting and hazing each other’s windshield with a surreal glow. Reena squinted against the brilliance, her fingers unclenching from their vice-like grip on the edge of her seat. She placed a hand over her weary eyes and her head turned to Leigh, who was still gripping the helm. His stunned expression mirrored her own tumultuous thoughts.
Air was expelled from her lungs, a breath she’d held on for so long. Beyond the haze of their headlights, the world began to come clear, the surroundings gradually stitching themselves back together.
Her eyes fixed on the white car ahead.
“Miss, are you okay?! Are you hurt?!”
Leigh’s question tugged her back from the swirling chaos, redirecting her focus toward him. Her gaze instinctively flicked to his forehead and arm, a reflex born from a memory of their ambush in Newport. A surge of relief filled her as her eyes confirmed what her heart had hoped for – there were no visible injuries this time, and he was unscathed.
“I-I’m fine, you?!”
Leigh’s nod was accompanied by a tight-lipped expression. Reena stared back to the windscreen, Leigh too, and his face twisted into an even deeper scowl.
“Who the fuck was that?!” he growled.
The vehicle they had narrowly avoided colliding with remained steady, an eerie stillness pervading its surroundings. The white car’s engine faintly rumbled, indicated by the wisps of smoke curling from its rear.
Was the driver injured?
But as Reena trained on the vehicle, a slow realization dawned upon her. The pieces of recognition fell into place, like fragments of a puzzle resolving into a clear picture. The car wasn’t unfamiliar. The more she looked, the more the reality was solidified.
It was the same white car that she’d seen parked near the Vercetti Estate.
“I-I saw this car the other day, Leigh…” Reena whispered, pointing forward. A sense of the uncanny… the feeling of being under the watch of eyes traced a shiver down her spine.
The white car shifted. Gradually, it began to creep, like a predator on the prowl, making its deliberate way across the road to the lane where Leigh and Reena were supposed to be.
It was no coincidence. The driver’s intent was palpable, his actions measured, deliberate.
Reena couldn’t take her eyes off the white car, her mind telling her to keep track of its movement. As the foreign vehicle eased past her side, their windows aligning eerily, she caught a silhouette of a man.
Her breath hitched as she met the gaze of whoever was within, their eyes seemingly fixed on hers.
Just as it reached the tail of their car, the white car dashed with an unexpected burst of speed, hurtling down the highway, a billowing cloud of white smoke erupting from its exhaust. Reena’s hand moved instinctively to the window, hastily winding it up. Yet, the faint but unmistakable tang of acrid smoke still managed to seep through.
Reena looked over her shoulder, watching the ominous white car fade in the distance until it was out of her sight.
The motion of their own car pulling forward was a distant sensation. Reena couldn’t pinpoint exactly when Leigh found the resolve to resume their journey, but their vehicle slipped back into the right lane, the pace more cautious, as if Leigh himself was uncertain about the prospect of encountering another stranger on the road. She even thought that Leigh would run after the white car after what it had almost done to them, but he didn’t.
Reena made a conscious effort to relax, though it demanded a feat of willpower as ease remained elusive. She attempted to shift her legs into a more comfortable position, only to discover that they’d involuntarily strayed to the car’s floor during the commotion. As Reena felt her parched throat, they came across two more cars, dashing likewise as if in a hurry, proving Leigh’s intuition to drive slowly was correct. The same two cars followed the direction that the white car had taken, both disappearing in the distance far behind them.
Finally, the Malibu Club came into view, a respite in the middle of the night’s strangeness. The gates of the parking lot lay ahead, wide open and welcoming. Leigh smoothly guided theirs toward the entrance. With the precision of habit, Leigh veered to the left and glided through the threshold.
Her pulse steadied as they entered the parking lot, the anticipation of seeing Tommy and telling him what happened throbbing in her veins.
A group of people gathered around the Cheetah.
Her husband hadn’t left the club after all.
“He’s still here…” she whispered, but as they came closer, Reena’s jaw dropped.
Tommy’s car was battered and broken. Its side view mirror had been wrenched off, screens shattered, and the trunk visibly dented. It was a sorry sight, a jarring contrast to the sports car’s former glory.
She and Leigh exchanged worried glances, but as they looked ahead once more, this time closer, her breath came to a halt.
It was Tommy. He lay sprawled near the back tire of the Cheetah, looking worse than terrible. Glass shards scattered around him, his fancy suit torn and dirty. His face was a mess of blood and bruises, with a twisted leg and a stiff body amid the wreckage.
Her heart leaped into her throat, a jolt of shock shooting through her veins. “Tommy!” Without a second thought, Reena catapulted herself out of the moving car, her urgency overriding any concern for safety. She didn’t even wait for Leigh to come to a complete stop. Her feet pounded the ground as she raced toward Tommy, her heart hammering as if her chest was being torn apart.
All of the people that surrounded her husband moved out of the way except for Marcus and a couple of others. Reaching her husband’s side, Reena sank to the ground beside him, her hands trembling as they cradled his bleeding head. Nicks and cuts marred his forehead, swollen lumps disfigured his cheek and jaw, and his mouth bled, a blood stream tracing its way down to his chin. Her heart ached at the sight of his handsome face, now a canvas of pain and injury.
“What happened to him?!” Her scream ripped through her throat, desperation lacing every word.
“They’re running after culprit,” Marcus explained, his expression a reflection of disbelief. “Ambulance is on the way, miss.”
Tears carved trails down her cheeks. “Baby, what happened to you?!” she asked, her throat trembling as she choked on the tears. Tommy lay still, unresponsive. In an act of comfort, she cradled his head, drawing him close to her chest, just as she’d done with their children when they were upset. Her arms enveloped around him, rocking him tenderly. “Tommy, wake up, please!” she pleaded.
Time stretched on indefinitely. What was taking the help so long? She sobbed, her worry for her husband’s life overwhelming.
She’d never seen him in this state before.
Two cars dashed into the parking lot. Mike and Ross with some others got out of the car, the latter rushing toward Marcus. “We lost him in Leaf Links,” Mike reported, his gaze lowering to the ground.
“Followed him through but the bastard’s too quick!” Ross added.
Reena didn’t know what was going on, her head a mess until a hand landed gently on the crook of her elbow, and a guttural cough, rough as grinding sandpaper, emerged from the ongoing noise around her. Tommy’s eyes twitched as he fought to pry them open, his expression in pain. With a strained effort, his limp gaze seemed to ignite with recognition. A feeble, lopsided smile tugged at his lips.
Reena’s tears fell onto his face, overwhelmed with relief and concern. And then, as if fueled by sheer determination, his hand trembled as he reached up, fingers brushing her cheek, wiping away the trails of tears.
“Oh my god,” she whimpered, her emotions overflowing. “You’re awake!”
“Reena–”
“They’re here… they’re here, baby,” she said.
The ambulance arrived, the Malibu Club now filled with the deafening noise of wailing sirens and flashing red and blue lights. More people emerged from the club, watching in astonishment. Tommy’s men began to barricade the premises. She heard Marcus talking with the personnel, telling them to make sure that the incident would be kept subtle.
With a concerted effort, the responders gathered around Tommy, their movements unified in their urgency. After placing a brace on Tommy’s neck, one positioned himself by Tommy’s arms, providing stability, while the others lent their support to lift his torso and lower body as they placed him on a stretcher.
The ambulance door swung open. Reena moved quickly, her heart pounding with worry as she followed inside. She eased herself beside Tommy, not minding the devices and tools that cramped the space with them inside. Her fingers laced with his, anchoring him to her as if her touch could somehow ease his pain.
“Tommy…” she mumbled softly, her lips pressing tenderly against the back of his hand, a kiss she repeated in rapid succession. “Just… just stay with me, okay?”
The rumble of the engine unleashed as the ambulance raced toward the hospital, drowning out any coherent sound. Tommy groaned, his eyes fluttering open, words forming but slurred. He tried to speak once more, a raspy attempt that yielded gibberish.
“Relax, we’re getting you to–”
“I said, don’t leave me…”
Reena shook her head fiercely. “I-I won’t!”
Tommy lifted his hand and gripped her cheek, his fingers imprinting a mark on her skin, digging into her face and the side of her neck. His hold was almost painful despite his weakness. “Promise me…” he implored. “Promise me you won’t leave me…”
With an eager nod, Reena leaned in, her lips pressing a kiss onto the palm of his hand. “I promise. I never will…”
Tommy closed his eyes once more, seemingly satisfied with her response. Yet, Reena’s thoughts spun with a single question, its mystery bugging her chest.
Who would do this to you, Tommy?
KEN’S VOICE OUTSIDE the bathroom was stifled by the closed door, but it wasn’t enough to block him away. Claude looked at himself in the mirror, seeing the cut underneath his eye caused by the key that Tommy sliced on his face. It sure did sting, but he didn’t care, and he hoped what he did make it worse for that motherfucking bastard. Claude turned the tap water on and splashed a handful on his face, letting it wash away the dirt and blood that smeared on his skin.
If Tommy was dead, it would’ve been better, but he kind of doubted it. Those mobsters that heard Tommy’s scream were too quick to retaliate. Good thing they were stupid enough to abandon their search upon reaching the dark spots in Leaf Links, or else, more blood would’ve been shed.
“I told you we were meeting Reena in the lighthouse, but where did you go?! Where?!”
Hadn’t this schmuck seen the fucking bat on the floor?
“And what’s… oh my fucking god, what did you do, Claude?!”
Yeah, he must have seen it now.
On second thought, he should’ve hit Tommy in the head. He was already holding the bat up in the air, ready to smash his face on the ground, or his chest, or his guts. Hell, he even thought of smashing his crotch, but he was already limp. He wanted to shatter Tommy’s skull, his bones, and his body, but he didn’t know why he didn’t do it. Fuck. Did he still care about that asshole?
He saw her. Claude knew she recognized the car. She was staring right through the window... at him. Did she see him inside? Did she realize it was him? Not that he cared! Reena wouldn’t go after him because she already had Tommy.
Claude scoffed. The mirror would be easy to break too. He could just throw his fist into it, and his reflection would wreck into a hundred pieces like his soul. Irreparable.
“Open the fucking door!” Ken’s fist slammed on the wooden surface in loud, consecutive knocks.
Reaching his wit’s end, Claude swung the door open. Ken stiffened, trembled, and moved away, allowing Claude to come out of the bathroom and head straight to the bed. He crouched and picked up the bat with slight smears of blood and tossed it on Ken’s mattress.
“H-Hey, what happened back there? I was worried about you… you know?”
Worried? Claude slouched on his bed, keeping his composure. “I beat him up.”
“Who?!”
“Tommy. I beat the shit out of him.”
Ken’s mouth hung open. “What did you say?!”
“They’re probably taking him to the hospital now, or back to the estate, fucking wherever.” He took his shoes off and tossed them aside, landing beneath the square table at the foot of their beds. “Destroyed his car too.”
“D-Did anyone see you?”
“Yes, but they didn’t run after me enough,” he murmured. “Reena… she saw my car.”
“She was there when you did it?”
Too many questions that were too tiring to answer. In his head, all that remained was how Reena stared at him from the car. He leaned forward, putting his elbows on his knees and clasping his hands together, reminiscing the look on her face. He didn’t have words to describe it… how stunning she was in spite of shock. How, despite his fury, his heart melted under the scorching heat of her gaze.
“You do realize this could make it harder for us to come close, right?” Ken Rosenberg sat on his bed, pushing away the bat slightly. “I know you’re mad at Tommy, but we gotta set your priorities straight. What’s your priority? Get back at Tommy or get back with Reena and your child?”
Claude didn’t answer. His heart was shouting being with her and their son, but what he did earlier just sealed the fact he’d rather hurt Tommy otherwise. No reason sounded right to him at all.
“One of Tommy’s men saw us near the lighthouse. He knew me. One of the twins, Leigh, I think, that was his name. Pendelbury. What if he told Tommy about us? About me?”
Claude closed his eyes. Of course, that man in the driver’s seat. He looked familiar to him, one of those guys who was always with Tommy. Was he Reena’s personal security now?
“Seems like we’re equals now.”
Ken shook his head, disappointment palpable in his expression. “You gotta lay low, Claude.”
He shot him up a glance. “Why?”
“Seriously? You’re asking me why? Come on. You’re not stupid.”
Oh, in fact, he was. He was too stupid to put his faith in a person he once called a friend, who ultimately betrayed him and took away the only person he loved so much. He was too stupid to sulk into his own self-pity that he’d chosen to isolate himself from the rest of the people he trusted, which, in turn, gave them an excuse for not telling him things he should’ve known. He was too stupid and too blinded to even justify his actions which jeopardized his chances of being with Reena, and he was too stupid, fucking stupid, to believe that she’d never forget him.
Because she did.
“I’ll try to get her to meet me again, Claude. But I don’t think I can get to her right away. Heck, she must be with Tommy right now after you beat him up. You just gave him another reason to keep her guarded.”
Claude lowered his gaze, staring at his bare feet on the floor, feeling the coldness of the tiled pavement. The room had never felt quiet. It was either filled with Ken’s senseless blabbers, the television’s blurry whispers, or the airconditioner’s whirring, but now, it was like a vacuum that sucked out every audible sound save for the intermittent and painful thumps of his heart. He listened to it very closely, drilling into the depths of his thoughts, the silent interference that troubled his soul reverberating in the walls of his purposeless life.
He should’ve just died instead.
Ken Rosenberg stood from the bed and walked around the room, heading to the door that led to the suite’s exit. “I-I gotta stay outside for a while, ‘kay? I think you need some time alone.”
The lawyer stood by the door, seemingly waiting for him to respond, but Claude didn’t spare him even a glance. With a sigh, Ken stepped out of the room and closed the door behind him.
Claude lay on the bed, staring up at the white, plain ceiling. He placed his arms on his sides and relaxed, breathing in and out slowly like he did whenever he was in solitary confinement in the penitentiary.
Ken Rosenberg was right. He needed to set his priorities straight. Everything fell apart when he saw them together. All his hopes and dreams of finally being with Reena and their child had vanished in an instant. But what did he want to do now?
He had to see her. And he fucking knew how.
Notes:
Thank you!
Chapter 91: Growing Suspicions
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
REENA LET OUT a grunt as she hauled Tommy up off the bed and propped him into a sitting position, his back against the headboard. She’d be all in for this task if he really couldn’t move, but that wasn’t the deal. Each time she gave it her all, he played back with a mischievous twist. A light peck grazed her skin or his face accidentally nuzzled against her chest.
Out of nowhere, Reena jolted in her spot as a surprising smack landed on her ass. She couldn’t help but roll her eyes, playfully pinching Tommy’s arm as he broke into a snicker.
“You’re a good caregiver, you know?” he teased, eyes locking with hers, tinged with a suggestive glare.
“Stop it, Tommy. Every day, this is getting harder.”
“Oh, I am,” he quipped, his tone loaded with certainty as his hand made another play for her backside. Reena deftly swatted his wrist away, making him retract his hand in a hurry. “Ouch! Easy there. You’re hurting me,” he yelped.
Reena sighed a heavy breath. Honestly, she had a hunch that her cheeky husband was just putting on a show, but deep down, she couldn’t find it in herself to abandon Tommy on his own. That night was imprinted in her mind, no doubt about it – he was sprawled on the ground, covered in his own blood, looking nearly lifeless. His limbs took a beating, wounds marking his body, and his face was a mess, hard to recognize. The memory of his sorry state pricked at her heart, a mix of pain and worry that stuck around, no matter what she did.
His leg bore the brunt of the damage, taking the most brutal hit. During their hospital stay, the doctor stressed to her that if Tommy wanted a swift recovery, he had to steer clear of anything demanding, and that included giving his fractured leg a break. It turned out he’d been subjected to a vicious beating with a baseball bat, smashing his bones and tearing through his muscles and ligaments. His leg had to be put in a cast, and once they left the hospital, he relied on a crutch to get on his feet and move about, stubbornly refusing a wheelchair. He made it clear he wasn’t ready to be confined or seen as helpless just yet.
“Come on, I know you can stand up,” Reena remarked, a knowing look in her eyes. Her fingers paused as she gently lifted his chin, her touch assessing the bruises beneath his eyes. The pads of her fingers touched them softly, and then she applied a bit more pressure, making him wince. “It’s just that when you realize I’m about to show up, I catch you hustling back to the bed…”
“Can you blame me for that?” he said, staring up at her with tantalizing eyes. “I want you to take care of me…”
His hands vanished beneath her dress, seeking out her waist. With a firm tug, Tommy drew her near, and not wishing to aggravate any discomfort, Reena settled onto his lap, her legs straddling his. Yielding, her lips met his in a gentle fervor. Starting from her waist, his hands traced the path to her back, fumbling with the hooks of her bra. Tommy undid them, his touch nimble and swift. Just as quickly, his hands returned to the front, his palms cupping her bare breasts.
A purr escaped her lips, drawn forth by the adept touch that set her sensitivities ablaze. However, as the notion dawned that Tommy was poised to lift her dress, Reena parted from their kiss, swiftly halting him. This wasn’t unfamiliar territory – Tommy had made multiple attempts to initiate intimacy since his return from the hospital, heedless of the doctor’s advice to spare his body from exhaustion.
It was as if the beatings had ignited an even stronger fire within him, defying orders to satisfy his primal urges. Yet, beneath it all, Reena sensed that Tommy’s actions held a deeper intention.
To keep her in the room. In the house. Near him.
And she wondered why he’d even think that she’d leave.
“Tommy, no,” she cautioned, her voice edged with frustration, attempting to extricate his persistent hands, but her efforts proved futile.
“Why? Am I not attractive to you anymore with all these cuts and shit?”
“Come on, you know it’s not that…” she protested, gently but firmly disentangling herself from his lap. A hint of disappointment flashed across his face as she moved away. “First, you asked me to give you a sponge bath, even though we know you can go to the shower on your own. Now, I’m here to give what you asked for, but you’re just trying to fuck me, aren’t you?”
He emitted a low groan as she reached for his shirt, her fingers gingerly lifting the fabric’s hems inch by painstaking inch, avoiding any contact with the tender, bruised areas of his skin. She bent his arm to slip the sleeves free, revealing an array of darkening bruises scattered across his abdomen. Reena carefully discarded his shirt onto a nearby surface before reaching for a basin she’d placed on the bedside table. She retrieved a warm, damp cloth from the basin and began wiping it over his shoulders.
“Tell me,” she said in a soft tone, her hands moving with a gentle, rhythmic sweep across his back. As she worked, a soothing scent of cedarwood and lavender wafted from the basin she’d prepared. “How is it possible for Tommy Vercetti to get beaten up like this?”
“I was… caught off-guard.”
“By whom?”
He winced audibly as she pressed the bubbling towel against an inflamed spot. “I told you. I don’t know.”
Reena carefully returned the towel to the basin, her fingers cradling Tommy’s face as she clicked her tongue in sympathy. She retrieved an ointment and bandage kit from the drawer. Squeezing a modest amount of the healing salve onto her fingertip, she began massaging it into the angry red and purple bruises. For the slightly open cut near his temple, she applied a generous dollop of antibacterial cream, heeding the doctor’s advice for swift healing.
“Open your mouth,” she ordered, and Tommy obediently complied. As he did, she examined his mouth, turning his head slightly from left to right, her eyes searching for any signs of continued bleeding.
“It doesn’t bleed at all,” he assured her.
Reena leaned in for a dry kiss, catching him by surprise. His cheeks flushed crimson as their eyes met. “Good,” she whispered with a reassuring smile.
For several minutes, she dedicated herself to the task of giving him the sponge bath he’d requested, ensuring that no spot on his body went untouched. Once satisfied, she helped him change into fresh, clean clothes, selecting the softest pillow they had and positioning it behind him on the bed.
Tommy leaned back, and then Reena retrieved a bowl of homemade soup she prepared with Mrs. Hubbard. She insisted that he finish the meal so he could take his painkillers.
“I don’t need to take medicines,” Tommy insisted.
“Oh, so you’re the doctor now?” She raised a playful eyebrow, using the spoon to scrape the last remnants of soup from his lips, which elicited a chuckle from him. “Are you truly alright? Can you take care of yourself?”
“Still feeling sore, Doc. Maybe another kiss could speed up my recovery,” he teased.
“You wish.”
“I’m fine,” Tommy reassured her, capturing her hand and pressing it to his lips. “You’re the best doctor there is.”
“Tommy, I mean it.”
He held her gaze, his eyes filled with gratitude. “And so do I. Thank you. I’m feeling better because of you.”
Reena placed the bowl down on the bedside table and sighed heavily. He’d mentioned that Marcus was still investigating what had transpired, but they hadn’t shared much information with her. Perhaps they were keeping Tommy informed in her absence, but she couldn’t help but wonder why her husband felt the need to conceal the details that she wanted to know likewise.
His strong arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her close as if he could sense the worries clouding her mind. “Don’t worry about me. This won’t happen again,” he said, his breath brushing against her cheek as he held her head close to his face. “I just have a request…”
“What is it?” she asked immediately.
“Promise me something,” Tommy said earnestly. “Don’t leave the estate until we’re set to move. I don’t want anything happening to you or the kids.”
“Okay. We won’t,” she replied, though her thoughts involuntarily drifted back to her recent encounter with Ken Rosenberg. His unsettling words still echoed in her mind – she was merchandise. It raised more questions than it answered, but for now, she had to resist. She had to remain by her husband’s side until he was fully recovered, all the while preparing for their imminent departure in a couple of weeks.
Reena’s hand moved soothingly over Tommy’s forearm, her fingers pressing lightly against his skin. She stared at him apprehensively, her instincts now tinged with questions about the heightened security measures implemented around them. Tommy had never been one to give in to paranoia, but something had changed, and she couldn’t shake the feeling that he was harboring a secret.
“I should go check on the kids. I’ve been away for quite some time,” Reena announced, stretching her legs as she prepared to leave the bed. She leaned down to plant a kiss on Tommy’s forehead before turning to exit the room.
However, her surprise mounted as he firmly grasped her wrist, halting her departure. She turned to look at him again, her curiosity piqued.
“Whatever happens, don’t leave me…” he pleaded.
All the turmoil that had been plaguing him needed to come to an end, and she was determined to put a stop to it right now. Those words had been haunting her since that night, causing her chest to constrict each time he uttered them. She felt a prickling behind her eyes, but instead of letting tears fall, she spun back to him and bent down for another kiss, savoring the tenderness of her husband’s lips.
“I won’t leave you, Tommy. I promise.”
With as much grace as she could muster, Reena slipped out of the bedroom, leaving the door slightly ajar, just enough for Tommy to call out if he needed anything. She strolled down the hallway to the nursery, and as she approached, she couldn’t help but smile. Inside, Cleo and Mrs. Hubbard were playing, surrounded by the boy’s toys strewn across the floor. Nearby, Tamia lay in her bassinet, her curious eyes fixed on the delicate chimes gently swaying above her.
Reena leaned against the doorway, her heart warmed by the sight before her. She wrapped her arms around herself, savoring the tender moment as she watched her children.
In the corridor, Marcus and Leigh emerged, their presence causing a shift in the atmosphere. Marcus offered a warm smile in greeting, but Leigh’s reaction was starkly different as he still averted his gaze. Together, they passed by Reena and approached the room where Tommy was. Marcus stood still, while Leigh knocked firmly on the door.
“Come in,” Tommy said.
Cleo’s keen eyes seemed to catch her presence, and he turned his head over his tiny shoulder, his little hands pressing against the floor as he managed to push himself up. He wobbled over to Reena, and she lowered herself onto her stomach to meet her son. As he reached her, he held up a small toy car – the one 8-Ball had given him – to her face.
“Where’s Papa?” Cleo inquired, his gaze shifting from her to the hallway. He poked his head out, swiveling it from left to right as he sought a glimpse of his father.
She smiled, her fingers gently combing through his soft hair. “Papa needs to rest for a little while. We’ll visit him later, okay?”
“Okay!” Cleo’s face lit up, and he turned around, scampering back to his spot with Mrs. Hubbard. The elderly woman beamed at Reena before redirecting her attention to Cleo. “Nana, let’s play!”
Reena rose to her feet and moved with measured steps, making her way back to their room. As she approached the door, she slowed to a halt, her back gently pressing against the wall.
“The men are looking for a white Admiral in town, Boss. Unfortunately, nothing’s turned up,” Marcus reported.
“Leigh, you said you came across the car before you reached the club. Did you see the license plate?”
“No, Boss. I didn’t. I was too startled by the near crash.”
“Make sure you get him.”
Him? So, Tommy knows who did it to him?
“Keep the gates guarded. All exits and entrances. Never let anyone leave, especially my wife. Keep the security cameras on and always watch. Get it?”
“Yes, Boss.”
“I’ll talk to the two of you in my office later about the casino’s opening.”
Reena swiftly retreated to the nursery doorway. Leaning casually against the frame, she crossed her arms over her chest, adopting the façade of someone who’d been there all along.
Marcus and Leigh exited their room, passing by behind her. Reena kept a careful watch on them from the corner of her eye, her senses keenly attuned to their movements. Just before they turned toward the balcony, she caught a fleeting, almost imperceptible glance from Leigh, too quick to ignore.
Reena couldn’t help but emit a quiet harrumph, though it came out a bit louder than intended, causing Mrs. Hubbard to turn her way. “Has Cleo been asking for Tommy?” she inquired.
“Yes, my dear. He keeps asking for him because he wants to play with him,” Mrs. Hubbard replied, passing a toy car to Cleo before rising from her spot. With a slight grunt, she made her way to a nearby drawer and retrieved a phone. “I think someone’s been trying to reach you several times. I heard it buzz.”
“Thank you,” Reena said with a soft smile, accepting the phone from Mrs. Hubbard. She swiftly checked her inbox, her fingers moving across the screen. A flicker of disappointment crossed her face as she realized there were no new messages, but her eyes honed in on a familiar number in her call log.
Without hesitation, she ventured further into the nursery, where soft pastel colors adorned the walls and a gentle, melodic mobile dangled above Tamia’s cot. Reena stood beside the baby, her fingers gently swaying the crib back and forth as the phone continued to ring.
“Break n’ Fix…” the man spoke.
“Hey, it’s... It’s Serena Vercetti,” she greeted, her voice carrying a hint of anticipation. “I saw that you’ve called. I’m sorry, I wasn’t able to answer immediately. Have you fixed it?”
“Oh, yeah,” the repairman replied earnestly. “Unfortunately, I couldn’t recover the deleted voicemails at all. I tried to salvage the phone, but the damage was kinda severe, and I had a challenging time stickin’ the parts back together.”
If she had received this news before talking to Mercedes, Reena might have reacted differently. But now, it felt as though whatever had been stored on the phone paled in comparison to what she had now. With a contented sigh, Reena pursed her lips and fixed her gaze on Tamia, her heart warmed by the sight.
“It’s fine,” she replied, her voice softening. “When can I expect to have it back?”
“I had it delivered to your house, B-19 L-86 Starfish Island,” the repairman informed her. “The courier mentioned that someone received it on your behalf...”
In a frantic rush, Reena found herself darting out of the nursery, the rapid beats of her footsteps echoing through the house like a drumroll. Each thud seemed to reverberate in her racing heart as she descended to the foyer. Panic surged like a tidal wave, threatening to drown her in its grip.
As she burst through the doorway, the world outside greeted her. A chill wind swept past, ruffling her hair and sending a shiver down her spine. The daylight was harsh, casting sharp shadows across the driveway that seemed to mirror the jagged edges of her anxiety.
“Shit,” she muttered under her breath, her voice trembling as she scanned the area. Nobody had mentioned a package that had been claimed, but the repairman got her address right. Her gaze darted wildly around the driveway, desperately seeking any sign.
Her breaths came in short, shallow gasps, and her eyes darted from figure to figure. There was Ross, striding purposefully toward the west, his silhouette elongated by the mid-morning sun. And there was Mike, leisurely meandering beneath the towering palm trees near the imposing gates. Yet, none of them carried anything, not even a subtle hint that they’d taken possession of the crucial package.
Reena’s heart pounded in her chest like a relentless drumbeat. Tommy didn’t know she got the phone from where he hid it, and if he found out what she did, he might–
“Are you looking for something, Miss Reena?”
Reena’s nerves jumped as she spun around to face Marcus, who had appeared unexpectedly behind her. Her breath caught in her throat, and for a fleeting moment, she felt as though her heart might betray her. She struggled to maintain composure, her eyes locked onto him, searching for any hint of suspicion or curiosity.
Mustering all her strength, Reena forced a smile. “Marcus, you startled me,” she chuckled, pressing a hand over her chest. “I was just... looking for Leigh.” The words tumbled out, but the unease remained, gnawing at her like a persistent shadow.
“Leigh?” he asked, slowly stepping closer to her. Reena found herself stiffening on her spot, her shoulders clenching. “Do you need anything from him, Miss?”
Her stomach fluttered. “No, no, I just–” she stuttered, a sly smile quirking in her upper lip. “Do you know where he is?”
Marcus squinted, his glare laced with skepticism. “No, Miss, I don’t. He might be with the others,” he answered, revealing something that he was holding in his hand. “In fact, I was looking for you. This package was delivered just a bit earlier, saying that you had this phone repaired in Washington Mall.”
Reena’s heart leaped into her throat as Marcus spoke, and her eyes widened in alarm. Panic surged through her veins, blood rushing in her head.
“Oh, that… yeah, I had that repaired… I’ve kind of forgotten about it…” Her explanation felt feeble even to her ears, and the device Marcus held in his hand seemed to weigh a ton, a damning piece of evidence of her clandestine actions. Swallowing her apprehension, Reena extended a shaky hand toward Marcus. “Can I… have that?” she asked.
His eyes shifted between her face and her hand, then, a snicker formed in his mouth, sending shivers down her spine. “Of course, Miss,” he muttered, and then he handed her over the package, the item feeling light on her hand.
“Thank you,” she immediately said, walking past him in the doorway.
Marcus had been loyal to Tommy ever since she knew about him. Every single thing, every single order… Marcus carried out without a question. Unlike Leigh, it seemed like his trust in Tommy had no bounds, making him a trustworthy ally… and a formidable foe.
As she strode with urgency, Reena decided to open the packet, its lightweight making her wonder what happened to the cell. When she tore the case open, Reena halted in her steps, looking at the empty box in her hands.
The phone was gone.
Notes:
Thank you!
Chapter 92: Subversion
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
THE ENTIRE DAY, Reena clung to Tommy as if her life depended on him. She shadowed him anywhere he went, refusing to let even a moment slip away without her presence. In their bedroom, she nestled close to him, her thoughts running wild.
Tommy seemed to relish in her constant attention, the warmth of her proximity, and every stolen moment to brush his lips against hers. He reveled in the way she yielded to his touch and melted into his embrace, the devious grin in his mouth a proof of his enjoyment.
Unbeknownst to him, behind her willing compliance was a clear purpose.
Don’t let Marcus near Tommy.
Ever since their encounter in the morning, Reena couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling that settled over her whenever Marcus was around. It was as if there was an invisible thread between them, waiting for her to make a move, to seize an opportunity when she’d shift her gaze or distance herself slightly from her husband.
The tension hung thick in the air, like an electric charge that crackled between them, ready to ignite at any moment. Reena was acutely aware of Marcus’s intentions, and he, in turn, seemed equally cognizant of hers.
But she couldn’t let him get close to Tommy, or else…
With Tommy’s needs, Reena’s constant company felt normal to him, rendering her ability to maintain the façade effortless, even when she pulled him into their bedroom and urged him to rest a little earlier than usual.
On the bed, Reena sat with her knees curled, an open book placed on her lap. After an evening spent playing with her children, preparing and sharing dinner, and taking care of Tommy, and even more so, staying alert all the time, she felt utterly exhausted. She barely flipped the pages of her book, her eyes lazily skimming the massive bodies of text she had no real interest in reading. The muffled hum of Tommy’s conversation with Marcus and Leigh was all she cared for, and she half-listened, her senses heightened with every word that was said.
“Updates?”
“We found out something about the white Admiral, Boss,” Leigh said.
Her brows churned a little, making her turn her head in the direction of their door that stood ajar.
“What is it?” Tommy asked, his voice tinged with curiosity.
“It’s his car, Boss. Ken Rosenberg,” Marcus said.
She gasped. Ken Rosenberg – the man she’d spoken to for months, the man whose advice she heeded – did anything to befriend her as a part of an elaborate scheme to get to Tommy. The letter he’d written, the threats he’d given, and now, his willing assistance to the man who had harmed her husband, all weighed on her mind.
But the question that clawed at her was why? What was his motivation behind it all?
Tommy’s entrance abruptly pulled her from her musings. He regarded her with a quizzical expression, his eyes narrowing, as if trying to decipher her thoughts. He shut the door behind him, its bolt clicking in a distinct, final thud that matched her skipping heartbeats. Deliberately, he leaned his crutch against the bedside table before settling beside her on the mattress.
“What are you thinking?” he asked, his tone hinting of mischievousness.
Attempting to regain her composure, Reena shook her head, closed the book, and placed it beside her pillow. She then leaned closer to Tommy and kissed him on the cheek. She could see his face churning as if he was expecting more, leaving her with a knot of guilt and apprehension deep within.
“Let’s go to sleep…” she suggested, ignoring everything else she’d observed.
“Aren’t we going to… you know?” he asked, a tinge of disappointment lacing his tone.
“I-I’m quite tired right now,” she said, feigning an extensive yawn and a big stretch. “Tomorrow, I promise…”
The entire time, Reena sensed Tommy’s restlessness. He tossed and turned in bed, his movements growing more desperate as he sought solace in her presence. His hand ventured into areas that should’ve remained untouched, but Reena, with her eyes closed and body steadied, pretended to be lost in a deep, undisturbed slumber.
But eventually, Tommy surrendered, and Reena listened to the soft cadence of his snoring. In the darkness, she lay still, her heart heavy, waiting for a few more minutes before she made her escape.
The clock ticked at ten minutes after twelve. Very carefully, Reena slipped out of the bed, gently untangling Tommy’s arm that had encircled her waist. She moved with deliberate slowness, barely causing the mattress to shift, striving for absolute silence as she reached for the packet that she hid beneath her pillow. On tiptoes, she approached the bedroom door, its hinges protesting with a faint, ominous creak that amplified her fear.
Nonetheless, Tommy remained sound asleep, his face buried in the soft pillows.
Her heart rose in her throat. She couldn’t explain the fleeting relief that gripped her. Reena quietly moved away from their bedroom, searching for a place where she could find solace as calmly as she could. Back to the nursery, she scooted, pushing the door wide open and closing it behind her in a swift motion.
She was surprised to find Mrs. Hubbard in the room, dozing off on the couch. She was startled by her arrival, looking confused. “Dear, are you alright?” the old woman asked.
Reena struggled to catch her breath, her head quivering as she nodded. “Yeah, yeah I am…” she murmured, swallowing down the growing lump in her arid throat. “Can I stay here for a while?”
The old woman’s face churned, her furrowed brows deepening. “Isn’t Mr. Vercetti looking for you?”
“He’s already resting,” she responded, forcing a smile to cover her nervousness. “But I can’t sleep. I don’t wanna disturb him…”
Mrs. Hubbard perched, her eyes turning more attentive. “I can make you a cup of tea if you like…”
“No, no it’s okay,” Reena replied with a sense of urgency, her voice barely above a whisper. “You can go to your room, Mrs. Hubbard. I’ll watch them tonight,” she said. Her gaze shifted to her little boy, nestled snugly between two soft pillows, his legs tangled in the blankets that Asuka had given them. In the crib, Tamia lay like an angel, undisturbed by her surroundings, reverberating the kind of peacefulness she was yearning for.
Mrs. Hubbard, her face etched with concern, reluctantly left the nursery. Before closing the door behind her, she cast a lingering, worried glance at Reena. Then, she retreated into the hallway, leaving Reena alone with her children and her restless thoughts.
Once she was sure that Mrs. Hubbard was away, Reena found herself scrolling for Ken Rosenberg’s number on her phone, determined to put an end to this, each button she pressed resonating with her mounting anger. Her chest grew heavier as she moved away from her children, each ring on the other end pulling into her nerves–
“Hey, Reena!” Ken suddenly answered, his greeting an unwelcome vigor. “It’s late at night, don’t you think–”
“Listen to me,” she interrupted. With her waning legs that threatened to fail in each step, she walked further to the window, away from the door. “What do you want from me? From us?”
“W-What do you mean–”
“Stop pretending that you don’t know!” she yelled, unable to control the loudness of her voice. Tamia stirred in the crib, mewling lightly. “Tell me, what do you want?!”
Her frustration grew as Ken remained silent. She couldn’t fathom his intentions. Was he deliberately withholding answers, waiting for her to ask another question? He’d been a friend, and she’d genuinely thought he was. However, Ken’s actions continued to sow doubt and unease in her mind, leaving her questioning the motives behind his actions.
“What do I want?” Ken chuckled, his cackle further aggravating her chest. “All I want’s for you to know the truth...”
His words reeked of menace, urging Reena to shake her head. “Why did you send that letter to Tommy?! And what do you know about the man who hurt him?!”
Whatever his reasons for meeting her at Ocean Beach were, she’d likely never comprehend them. She loathed that she’d even engaged in conversation with him.
Despite her emotions, however, was her insatiable thirst for answers.
“Tell me. What are you after with my husband?” Reena asked once more, determined to unravel what she had to know.
“Seriously?” Ken’s tone dripped with sharp derision. “You haven’t seen the other document, have you?”
Her temples began to throb. “That’s not what I’m asking you–”
“Read the other document in that freaking envelope,” Ken demanded with a firmness that had rather stunned her. “And I promise, once you see it, you’ll come back to me in tears.”
Air sliced through her throat, the surroundings suffocatingly still. The nerves in her head seemed to pulsate and ripple violently as if they were tearing her thoughts apart from the inside.
“Come back to you,” she murmured, her teeth clenching, “in tears?!”
“Look, Reena, I’m sorry,” Ken continued, his tone suddenly changing. “I know I’ve said some terrible things about you in that letter, but it’s not meant for you. And believe me, when you find out what Tommy’s done, you’ll understand everything I’ve been trying to say.”
She didn’t respond right away. Her hand, clutching the phone, trembled uncontrollably. With each passing moment, the shaking intensified, threatening to send the device slipping from her grasp.
“When you’re ready, tell me. I wanna see you again–”
“What makes you think I’d do that?” she retorted.
“Because you deserve to know the truth. And Reena, for what it’s worth, whoever did that to Tommy, he had every reason to.”
The line fell silent, a long, continuous tone ringing in her ears. Ken had hung up, leaving her with half the answer she was searching for.
He knew who’d harmed Tommy.
That brown envelope where she’d retrieved the letter. Her throat tightened with unease as she contemplated it. She vividly remembered Tommy casually tossing it among the other papers in his office drawer.
There was another paper in that envelope, and she needed to read it.
But did she really want to? If what Ken had implied was true, then that paper held the power to upend her world, as he’d confidently claimed. The question was, turn it over for what? Why was Ken so sure? Could it be the reason behind Tommy’s dread when he caught her sifting through that pile of documents? Was it because she might discover the envelope and its contents?
None of them were making much sense. Yet, somewhere deep within, her intuition whispered its own truths. She had resolved to trust Tommy, hadn’t she? To place her faith in her husband. But emotions, even love, had a way of wavering, and so did her confidence.
There was no time to waste.
Notes:
Thank you!
Chapter 93: Paranoia
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
THE ROOM SEEMED to have plunged into an undeniable chill, a grip that sent shivers rippling through Tommy’s body. With his eyes tightly shut against the darkness, he instinctively turned toward the other side of the bed and extended his hand. His fingertips brushed against the cool sheets, seeking to touch her arm or waist just to reassure himself she was still there. However, as his arm outstretched over her space on the mattress, he found no trace of her, no hint of her beside him.
Sluggishly, Tommy pried his eyes open, squinting against the moonlight filtering through the windowpane. Its pallid glow bathed the room in an eerie luminescence, his face churning with the realization that Reena was not there beside him. Casting a furtive glance toward the closed bathroom door, he discerned no flicker of light seeping through the gap at its base, proof that she wasn’t there either.
Turning around with unease, he scanned the room, searching for any sign of her. Even the couch at the foot of their bed stood barren. The disconcerting emptiness of the room enveloped him like a shroud.
Her perfume fooled him. It was a calming scent, a certain fragrance to ease his fears and worries, but its source was gone, disappearing like a phantom in the middle of the night.
Tommy perched on the bed, pulling himself up with a struggle. The clock ticked thirty minutes past midnight, or so he thought. He attempted to stretch his limbs, but the movement elicited sharp cracks of pain near his ribcage, a cruel reminder of his injury. He couldn’t help but mutter curses under his breath, directing his anger at the person responsible for his injury.
“Fuck you, Speed…”
While Tommy appreciated the attention and care from Reena, he still couldn’t get off the noose. Claude’s silence was like the calm before a storm, and he couldn’t dismiss the fact that trouble was, more or less, brewing beneath the surface. He suspected that the bastard was just waiting, biding his time for the perfect opportunity to strike again. However, as long as this threat remained at a distance from his wife and their children, Tommy could at least find some solace in knowing they were safe with him.
Yet, there was always the unsettling thought that if Reena were to leave the estate without his knowledge, an unlikely scenario considering the security measures in place, but not entirely impossible, she might inadvertently walk into Claude’s path. Tommy’s instincts surged, and he knew he couldn’t let his guard down, not even for a moment. He had to ensure Reena was kept with him above anyone else.
Reena must have gone to the nursery. She’d been with him the entire day, and it was only reasonable if she wanted to spend time with their children while he was asleep. Determined to follow, he reached for his robe at the foot of the bed and wrapped it around his body. A sleepy yawn escaped his lips, and the dull ache it caused at his waist somehow hindered his attempt to tighten the knot of his robe. Then, he grabbed the crutch, a reminder of his weakness at the moment, hating every time he had to spend with the fucking object.
Carefully, Tommy left their bedroom, making his way down the hall to the nursery.
Cleo lay sprawled across his bed, his small body wrapped by the plush blankets and hotdog pillows. Tommy rubbed his eyes sleepily, smiling to himself as he observed the serenity of his son’s slumber. He moved further into the room, his gaze wandering toward the crib where Tamia rested. She cooed there softly, her gaze fixed on him with an intensity that left no doubt – she wanted to be held.
Tommy responded to his daughter’s wordless plea. He lifted her gently from the crib. Nestled against his chest, Tamia gazed up at him with wide, innocent eyes. His robe rustled softly as he swayed her in his arms.
Minutes drifted by as he patiently danced Tamia back to sleep. But even then, Tommy couldn’t help but notice Reena hadn’t returned yet, a curiosity that grew more profound with each passing second.
“Have you seen your Mama?” he murmured to Tamia, though he knew her baby coos could offer no answers.
His patience wore thin, his mind wandering. Finally, after pressing a gentle kiss to his daughter’s delicate cheek, Tommy lowered Tamia back into the crib.
Despite the sharp pain shooting up his leg with every step, Tommy moved with a sense of urgency. He couldn’t understand why, but his breaths came out in quick, shallow gasps, feeling a sense of apprehension deep within. The dim corridor seemed to stretch endlessly, the muted light casting long, eerie shadows on the plush carpet beneath his feet. Every footstep echoed through the hallway, amplifying the tension building within him as he approached the door to the office.
A sense of foreboding washed over him upon reaching his office. It stood slightly ajar, a thin sliver of pale light escaping its confines. Tommy hesitated, his heart quickening. The dim glow that spilled from the room heightened his suspicion – someone was undoubtedly inside.
With cautious steps, he approached the open doorway, pushing it wide open.
Reena jolted in her spot, her eyes widening in shock. She stood before him with her jaw clenched, holding something behind her back.
A brown envelope.
Tommy’s mind churned like a violent sea, each thought crashing against the shores of his consciousness with relentless force, and distrust had taken root deep within him, casting its long, gnarled shadows over the conviction he’d once held.
Amid the suffocating tension, every lingering pain that had clung to Tommy’s body seemed to wither away, replaced by a pulsating, harrowing ache in his chest. The room felt small, the walls closing in on him, and there was an incessant, unyielding ringing in his ears that only grew louder with each passing second.
“What are you doing?”
“Tommy, I–”
With a swift, determined motion, Tommy propelled himself forward, his earlier discomfort in his leg seemingly gone. He seized the envelope from Reena’s grasp, the paper rustling loudly as it tore from her fingers. His mounting anger swelled within him, and with all his might, he hurled the envelope to the floor where it landed with a sharp thud.
His hand shot out, fingers wrapping firmly around the crook of Reena’s elbow. He pulled her back with a force that startled her, her eyes widening in response to the unexpected intensity of his grip.
“Tommy, you’re hurting me!” Reena yelled, her voice a fragile plea, but he paid it no attention.
She faltered in her steps as she was dragged out of the office. Her scream seemed to catch the attention of the mobsters in the foyer, including Leigh. Mrs. Hubbard also came rushing, startled as she made her way out of her bedroom.
Tommy tried to suppress the temptation to tighten his grip further, unwilling to cause her any more distress, but he couldn’t help it.
He was limping, yes, but he wasn’t a fucking fool.
“Let me go!” she implored, and the way she begged showed her growing apprehension.
Tommy shoved her into the bedroom, slamming the door shut behind him. “What are you doing with that fucking envelope?!” he bellowed, his fingers trembling as he flailed his arm.
Reena stood frozen, her frightened eyes locked onto his, pain etched across her face. She touched her arm where he’d gripped her. Her lips parted as if she were on the verge of explaining, but instead, she chose silence, opting to move around the bed, distancing herself from him.
The way she averted her eyes and her hesitant steps only fueled Tommy’s growing rage. “Why aren’t you looking at me?” he asked, taking a step forward. “Why can’t you fucking look me in the eye?”
A faint hint of fear flickered in her eyes, and he observed her attempts to quell her trembling. “It’s not what you’re thinking…” Reena began, her voice barely above a whisper. “I was looking for it because I… I–”
“Stop lying to me!” Tommy cut her off, his voice dripping with skepticism and wrath. “I’m not fucking stupid, Reena!”
Her brows furrowed, and her body quivered, her desperation becoming more evident with each breath she took. “Tell me, Tommy, who’s lying between us?” she murmured, tears threatening to spill from her eyes. “What was in that envelope?!”
“It’s none of your business, do you understand?” Tommy took a step forward, closing the space between them. “Don’t do that again.”
Disappointment washed over her face. She looked hesitant, not even flinching. “T-Tommy, I–”
“You don’t trust me anymore, is that it?”
Her shoulders slumped, a sign of her frustration, and then she made her way to the nearby cabinet. She opened a drawer, the creak of its hinges adding an echo to the room. Her hand, shaking imperceptibly, reached inside and extracted a folded piece of paper.
Her grip was hesitant as she raised the object in her hand, the familiar sheet clutched between her trembling fingers. “What is this letter for?” she probed, her voice laced with sullen curiosity. Her eyes were now locked on his, seemingly searching for answers. “Why did Ken write you this?”
Tommy’s mind swirled with dark, vivid visions. If there was a single regret Tommy wished Ken Rosenberg carried, it was that he never took the chance to just stay the fuck away. Doing all these things, Tommy mused, was the biggest mistake Ken had ever made.
“He told me, there’s another document in that envelope…” Reena confessed, her voice quaking with each word, each syllable a tremulous revelation. “What’s in that document?”
“You’re speaking to him–”
“What’s in that document that you don’t want me to see?!” she repeated.
Tommy’s head pounded, his doubt, dread, and fury blending into a chaotic whirlwind of emotions that almost ripped his chest apart.
One more lie. He contemplated if he could fabricate one more lie to salvage his life.
“A proof of death,” he mumbled.
“Whose death?!” Reena’s voice cracked.
Tommy watched her closely, her emotions raw and teeming. He took a deep breath before he opened his mouth. “Remember what I told you when you were still in Angel Pine, about why I didn’t call for a month?"
This was the chance. This was the very reason why he wanted to protect her from the harsh reality. His wife… his Reena would be torn apart. She couldn’t know what had happened. Her fragile heart wouldn’t take it well, and Tommy? He dreaded witnessing her get destroyed by the very truth she sought to know, the very truth he knew would never serve her best interests.
“They told me Speed’s dead,” Tommy claimed, making sure that he said the name loud and clear.
Her eyebrows creased, her lips parting slightly. “I don’t believe you…” she muttered under her breath.
All the web of lies had grown deeper, and Tommy couldn’t see a way out any longer. It was exhausting to bend the truth, but he’d promised to protect her, protect them, even if it meant shielding her from what was real.
At this point, Tommy’s conscience was numb, and he felt no more sense of guilt for what he was doing.
“Why are you telling me this just now?!” she asked, almost in a scream.
Tommy had to hold her in place, close by his side, attached to his body and soul. He couldn’t let her slip away, not now when he already had everything he wanted, not now when all they needed was just to leave this place and disappear.
“If I told you before, what would you have done?” he asked, his voice laced with frustration and resignation, a perfect pretense. “Succumb to loneliness?!”
Tommy had never imagined the day he’d say these things to her, but it was a moment he had carefully orchestrated for years. As he watched her reaction, he saw his deceit taking root in her mind. A sense of satisfaction surged through him, knowing he had successfully manipulated her perception. Though his heart ached for the pain he was causing her, Tommy wouldn’t risk the chance of losing her and everything they had built together.
“I know I can never replace Speed…”
He knew he was inadequate. He knew she’d choose Claude in a heartbeat. He knew that she belonged to Claude, and the fear of losing her to him haunted him. His heart ached with the vulnerability of the situation, and he desperately sought a way to keep her, even if it meant playing himself a fool to protect his fragile sense of security.
“But if he really was around, why didn’t he try to get to you?” Tommy probed, messing up with her thoughts once more.
Reena lowered her head, and Tommy could see remorse etched across her face. He’d hoped to see this very emotion, the crack in her shield. He didn’t want to hurt her, never, but he believed that he had no choice but to continue the charade, even if it meant further burying her into the depths of his ruse.
His legs wavered as he moved toward the door, his steps heavy and staggering. He held tightly onto the crutch, making sure his stance was protected as he proceeded to leave her on her own.
“I always try, even if it kills me,” he confessed, “but it’s fucking hard to compete with the dead…”
Reena looked up at him, her eyes wide. Her trembling fingers released their grip on the letter, allowing it to fall to the mattress. Then, tears began to stream down her face, tracing a path on her cheeks.
Tommy had said what he needed to tell her, the final lie to complete the act. Turning to exit the room, he stopped in his tracks as he caught the sound of her whimper, a heart-wrenching cry that pierced through him like a dagger.
“The last thing I want is to hurt you…” he whispered, but if he had to hurt her to keep her with him, he would.
He wished he could turn back time, erase the doubts, and live in a world where her heart belonged to him alone. But he knew that the reality was far more complicated, and he had to navigate it no matter what, even if he was already fooling himself.
Tommy cast one final glance at Reena before slipping out of the room. As he closed the door behind him, he leaned heavily against the wall, the surface cool against his back. He pressed his head against the surface, keeping his eyes tightly shut, an effort to stifle the overwhelming urge to burst out in a torrent of emotion.
Eventually, he found himself back in the office, retrieving the envelope he’d tossed to the floor. With it firmly in hand, he left the room and descended the stairs, the thud of his crutch on each step echoing the emotions that stormed within him. Then, he made his way to the Waterview.
“Light up the barrel,” he told Marcus. It was a decision he should’ve made the moment he got the mail, and now, e was determined to set things right.
The barrel blazed with fire, its flames roaring in the middle of the night. The searing heat washed over Tommy, prickling his skin with a tangible warmth. The vivid orange and yellow hues of the flames danced before his eyes, their flickering light casting shifting shadows that played across his face. As he approached, the acrid odor of gas filled the air, mingling with the smoke of charred wood. The crackling of the flames and the occasional pop of burning embers echoed in the stillness of the night.
With a determined breath, Tommy tossed the document into the fiery pit.
“Boss,” Marcus said, making him turn around and face him.
The henchman said nothing more but stuck out a hand to him that held a packet. Tommy tore it open, and inside, he found the same phone he’d broken many days ago and a receipt that was named after his wife.
Reena had the phone repaired behind his back.
With familiarity, Tommy scrolled through the device’s content, finding the voicemail inbox. There, he saw all of those he received but one – a message that was yet to be opened. Amid the crackling flames before him, as the fire danced with the shadows, Tommy pressed the button and played the message, listening to it on his own.
“I don’t know if you’re listening to me, but I’ll never get tired of calling you. I wanna let you know I’m here. You’re all I think of every single day, babe. And I’m sorry if… if I didn’t know about our son...”
Tommy’s lips quirked up in a mocking jeer of disbelief. The very idea that Claude had the guts to claim he was sorry for his absence in Reena and Cleo’s life struck Tommy as utterly shameless.
“I swear I’ll make it up to you. I won’t be gone again, Reena…”
It was a hollow promise, a pathetic attempt to mend a wound that ran far too deep, just like the other promises he’d made. Claude’s words only fueled Tommy’s rage, solidifying his determination to protect what was rightfully his.
“I love you. You’re the love of my life…”
A prevailing static noise dominated the line, and the call abruptly ended. Tommy’s head felt like it swelled, protruding and pulsating, a cacophony of doubt, fear, and madness overwhelming his senses.
The truth lingered like a shadow, threatening to resurface at any given time, but he wasn’t letting it catch up with them. Never.
Notes:
Thank you!
Chapter 94: Insider
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
THE ROAR OF jet engines gradually gave way to the distant hum of the lively city below as the airplane descended toward Vice City. Through the oval window, 8-Ball watched the sprawling metropolis of neon lights, towering skyscrapers, and endless palm trees and coasts stretch out beneath him.
It was a place of luxury, but for 8-Ball, it was a newfound chance to make up for an old friend.
Across from him sat Asuka, who gazed out with a sense of purpose in her eyes. Her raven-black hair framed her delicate features, her crimson lipstick a contrast to her pale complexion. Beside her was Maria with her hair newly dyed, a cascade of platinum blonde, and her attire as vibrant as the city itself, a vivid display of sequins and bold patterns.
Throughout the trip, 8-Ball remained quiet, donning headphones to drown out the external noises that threatened to disturb his thoughts. He fought against the urge to succumb to ire. The truth was, he didn’t want to make this journey, at least until Asuka had shown up at his garage the other day.
They hadn’t seen each other since their heated argument in the condominium. It had left a bad taste in his mouth, fueling his resentment toward her. Their intentions, beliefs, and choices stood worlds apart. Asuka supported Tommy, believing that Reena should leave Vice City peacefully, but 8-Ball? He believed otherwise.
He had no concern for that asshole, and Asuka knew it, but she went to him nonetheless and told him about someone what happened to Tommy in Malibu Club. He’d been brutally assaulted by someone, leaving him wounded and incapacitated with a severely injured leg. On top of it all, Reena saw exactly how he was left by his attacker in the parking lot.
Even though without saying a word or a name, 8-Ball knew that Asuka had already made up her mind about who did it to Tommy Vercetti.
To 8-Ball, his sole concern was Reena. He could only imagine the fear she must have felt after seeing someone she cared for that way, but a question still lingered in his mind.
Did she know it was him?
As the plane touched down at Escobar International Airport, 8-Ball’s heart leaped into his throat. In the comfort of their first-class seating, passengers gathered their belongings as the plane’s engines hummed to a quiet halt. Flight attendants moved gracefully through the cabin, offering warm farewells and collecting any remaining items, ensuring the transition from the soaring skies to solid ground was seamless.
8-Ball rose from his seat, following Asuka and Maria’s movement. A young, stunning lady assisted them in collecting their belongings, flashing him a gentle smile. However, he couldn’t muster a response the way he wanted.
“Have you spoken to Reena?” Asuka’s question broke through his thoughts, making him cast her a glance.
“No, not yet,” he answered, stepping into the aisle. “But I plan on calling her later.”
As the plane’s doors swung open, 8-Ball felt a surge of unease. It wasn’t the bustling airport or the crowd that bothered him; it was the meeting he was having.
In front of the casino. 19:00 sharp.
Following Asuka through the terminal, 8-Ball’s mind remained fixated on Reena. He wondered and worried how she was taking all of these… and he needed to make sure that she and her children were safe, at least.
The Yakuzas closed in, forming a protective ring around their waka-gashira. The mere sight of them drew the attention of passersby, heads swiveling to catch a glimpse, curiosity dancing in their eyes. Exiting the gates, they stepped into the muggy Florida air. Vice City greeted them with a cacophony of sounds, from the blaring horns of passing cars to the distant thump of music from beachfront clubs.
8-Ball stood still near the stairs when Asuka approached him, sliding gently by his side. “Tommy told me that Reena’s fine, but she’s stuck in the estate now because of the intensified security.” She touched his arm as if coaxing him to relax. “Don’t worry about her and the kids. They’re all right.”
“Oh, is that so?” He nudged his arm to get off her hold, then grabbed his headphones and put them back on. “Why, has Claude come for them?”
Asuka’s brows knitted together ever so slightly, her lips forming a thin line. It was almost as if she were attempting to decipher his thoughts, probing for any inadvertent hints or clues he might offer. Her typically confident eyes now held a subtle edge of doubt.
“Do you have an idea where Claude is right now?”
8-Ball shuddered, but he covered it with a deep sigh. “I just assumed that.”
A sneer curled on Asuka’s lips as she dropped her arms and began to climb down the stairs. “Of course,” she remarked sarcastically. “Why keep that information to yourself? It’s not as if you’re not concerned about Reena’s well-being, am I right?”
“Claude wouldn’t harm her,” 8-Ball reproached, finding it so difficult to keep his emotions from bursting.
“Are you absolutely certain?” she inquired, her tone sharp as she tilted her head. “Because right now, his actions suggest otherwise.”
“Why did you even take me here?”
The tension brewing between him and Asuka seemed to have piqued Maria’s interest. She’d been nearing the Stinger, but she swiveled around, hurriedly climbing back up.
“I told you, we’re here for the opening of the casino,” Asuka responded calmly, yet beneath her composed exterior, 8-Ball sensed an undercurrent of something far more threatening. “Don’t make a big deal out of this for yourself.”
Every word that Asuka uttered just tugged at his nerves. “Well then, congratulations to your new business partner. I hope you don’t stab each other’s backs.”
Asuka stepped closer, almost eliminating the space between them. “I’m starting not to like your words, Hudson,” she whispered. He seemed to have struck a chord, and for a fleeting moment, he could discern a trace of offense on her face. Yet, as Maria joined her side, Asuka swiftly quashed the brief display of agitation, masking it behind an enigmatic smile that seemed almost unnatural.
“Hey, is everything all right?” Maria inquired, her gaze darting between the two of them.
Asuka shot 8-Ball a piercing glare, then turned abruptly, striding toward the waiting car. “Let’s get moving,” she declared tersely. “We do not want to be caught in traffic, do we?”
Silence hung heavily in the air, a dense shroud that enveloped them as they sat inside the Stinger. Each passing moment amplified the tension, and even Maria appeared disconcerted by the palpable quiet. She frequently cast furtive glances at both of them, her eyes searching for answers to questions she dared not utter aloud.
The neon-lit streets and soaring skyscrapers merged into a kaleidoscope of colors and lights, a mesmerizing blur as they sped through the city’s winding roads. Seated alongside him, the Yakuzas exuded an air of stoicism, their expressions carved from stone, eyes vigilantly scanning the surroundings as if dissecting every inch for potential threats. Amid the spectacular sights and glorious glow, 8-Ball remained on high alert, acutely aware that each twist of the road drew him closer and deeper into the rendezvous that neither Asuka nor Maria could know.
Just a few more minutes, he thought to himself.
Rising proudly among the towering skyscrapers of Vice Point, the Casino Royale commanded attention with its opulent façade. It loomed as tall as its neighboring giants, a beacon of magnificence visible to all who passed by. At the forefront, an elegant arched driveway served as a way to its grand entrance. The surroundings were meticulously adorned, featuring a crystal-clear water pathway that led to a central fountain nestled within a lush, landscaped oasis. Beside palm trees, towering stalks of bamboo stood tall and verdant in the corners, their sturdy presence adding an exotic flair to the setting.
The choice of location was nothing short of exquisite too. The casino stood close to the beach, and even its parking area, still incomplete, was blanketed with fine golden sands. In a swift motion, the Stinger glided on the driveway, pausing just before the grand entrance. When 8-Ball emerged from the vehicle, he caught the smell of the briny sea breeze mingling with the earthy scent of the trees and the plants that surrounded the casino.
It looked and felt so beautiful, so serene, but 8-Ball knew far more than that.
Away from the lampost, a white car was parked across the establishment, hidden beneath a massive palm tree and its shadow. It was there, creeping and unseen, invisible from the unobservant eyes, like a predator waiting for its prey.
A jolt of adrenaline coursed through 8-Ball as he recognized it.
In front of the casino, a massive placard trumpeted the impending grand opening, proclamation of the business’s imminent debut in just a couple of nights. 8-Ball’s eyes darted left and right, his senses keenly attuned to any signs of others noticing the car. As Asuka engaged with the casino staff, a subtle smile gracing her lips, Maria eagerly ventured inside, her fascination captured by the casino’s overall façade. Soon, Asuka trailed after Maria, accompanied by her Yakuza retinue, leaving 8-Ball standing alone in the driveway.
He seized the opportunity, wasting not a precious second. Stealthily, he moved away from the crowd, his steps deliberate but cautious, blending into the shadows as he dodged the Yakuza’s watchful eyes.
His nervousness intensified. The world around him felt hushed, the sounds of the casino and the city’s nightlife fading. His senses were heightened, every distant footstep, every passing car, a potential threat. His worries gnawed at him – what if Asuka or Maria noticed his absence?
I’ll be back before they know it.
The darkness seemed to conspire with him. As he inched closer to the car, 8-Ball’s breaths came in shallow, rapid bursts, his palms damp with a cold sweat. The windows of the Admiral offered no glimpse of the occupant inside, but 8-Ball knew he was there.
Out of the blue, he saw the passenger seat pop open.
He took it as an invitation.
8-Ball slipped inside the car. The instant the door closed, a profound silence descended, drowning him in a tense atmosphere. Carefully, 8-Ball turned, his eyes locking onto the man seated beside him.
There, before the steering wheel, was Claude.
8-Ball let out a long breath, the tension in his chest dissipating slightly. “How are you, Brother?”
But he got no response. Claude remained transfixed ahead, or nowhere, his face expressionless, his eyes emotionless.
“Was it you?” 8-Ball asked, unable to keep his curiosity to himself. “Did you go after Tommy?”
The grand lights of the Casino Royale cast vibrant hues on the streets, but somehow, despite its brightness, Claude’s face remained ominous, a canvas of uncertainty.
“I saw her, 8-Ball,” Claude whispered, his voice deep and low. His hands gripped the steering wheel, knuckles white and trembling. “I saw her kissing Tommy at the estate’s gates, and they were fucking happy.”
8-Ball was at a loss for words. Now, Claude’s true emotions had come out. Fury boiled beneath his seemingly composed exterior, ready to erupt at any moment.
Claude was hurt, and who wouldn’t be? But he needed to know that Reena wasn’t to blame.
“Did she see you?” 8-Ball inquired, barely able to look his friend in the eye.
“She did, but she didn’t recognize me. She saw me that day, and she saw me again after I left that son of a bitch at Malibu.”
8-Ball couldn’t help but close his eyes. Although he wasn’t opposed to getting back at Tommy, he hadn’t anticipated that Claude would be making such an impulsive action. What was worse, Reena had witnessed the aftermath, and Tommy, knowing Claude was already around, had taken drastic measures to protect himself and the truth from coming out.
“Asuka told me that Tommy has tightened security,” he told Claude, cautiously gauging his reaction. “It’s going to be challenging for you to breach.”
Claude released his grip on the steering wheel, leaning back into the seat as his posture seemed to relax. He jerked a nod toward the casino. “Will she be at the opening?”
8-Ball nodded in response, feeling a trickle of sweat trace down his face. “Yeah, Asuka told me she’ll be there with Tommy,” he revealed, his gaze dropping to the dashboard. “I can arrange for you to get inside.”
“How?”
With a sense of urgency, 8-Ball reached into his inner coat pocket and extracted a sleek invitation card, its edges gleaming. “Here,” he said, passing the card to Claude. It bore intricate designs and the unmistakable insignia of the Yakuzas. “You’ll need to act the part, be discreet,” he continued.
Claude examined the card, flipping it between his fingers. “Where should I wait?” he asked.
“There’s a balcony close to the lounge of the main party hall. Stay there, and I’ll lead Reena to you.”
As Claude securely stowed the invitation card, 8-Ball’s curiosity got the better of him, and he began to survey the car’s interior.
“Whose car is this, by the way?” he probed.
“Ken Rosenberg’s.”
“Where is he? I thought you were with him?”
Claude exhaled heavily, thick with unspoken sentiments. “You don’t need to know.”
Realization sank within. 8-Ball realized and understood that Claude wasn’t still fully trusting him, a consequence he believed he deserved. He felt his shoulders slump, and reluctantly, he bowed his head.
“You should get another car,” he suggested. “A Stinger...”
Claude glanced at him briefly, his eyes seeking something. 8-Ball briefly nodded, wordlessly urging him to take the offer.
“You will see Reena. I promise.”
What 8-Ball was about to do would create a consequence that would ripple through their lives. Going against Asuka wasn’t just challenging her authority; it was like shaking the very foundation of their friendship. Confronting Tommy meant disregarding all of Reena’s progress to move on and start anew. But the most gut-wrenching of all, it was a step against himself, a futile attempt to make up for his own shortcomings as a friend.
Beneath the velvety shroud of the night sky, the city’s neon lights continued their enchanting dance, painting the desolate streets with an otherworldly luminescence. The engine roared to life, and 8-Ball felt the vibrations coursing through his body as he got out of the car.
The white Admiral purred, and slowly, it began its journey into the night, its taillights gradually shrinking to pinpricks in the distance as it merged with the winding road ahead. It seemed to dissolve into the ink-black canvas of the city, leaving 8-Ball alone beneath the expansive canopy of the towering palm tree, the faint echoes of its engine fading into the night’s embrace.
There was no coming back from this. No more.
After a while, 8-Ball retraced his steps back to the casino’s entrance. As he entered the opulent hall, he spotted Asuka, her presence commanding the attention of all the staff as she spoke, not noticing his arrival. When he was about to head to the other side, Maria suddenly appeared, catching him off-guard.
Her curious eyes locked onto him as she held his arms, a subtle furrow creasing her brow. “Where have you been, 8-Ball?”
He offered a nonchalant smile, masking the nervousness that still lingered within him. “Just took a moment to stretch my legs and get some fresh air,” he replied casually, his tone breezy. “No big deal.”
Asuka looked over her shoulder, casting him a quick gaze, then went back to her staff again. However, Maria didn’t seem to accept his explanation, her eyes trained on him with intensity.
“I made sure they didn’t see you,” she murmured, her eyes lowering then lifting back up again.
8-Ball froze, feeling his quick pulse cease. His mouth parted in an attempt to speak, but Maria just shook her head and walked past him.
She disappeared to the other end of the hallway, not sparing him another glance.
Notes:
Thank you!
Chapter 95: Forbidden
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
DESPITE THE IMPLODING sensation that lingered in her stomach since that night, Reena welcomed the arrival of couriers herself. The two men labored as they climbed the steps to the foyer of Vercetti Estate, bearing a massive four-by-three-foot frame shrouded in an expansive coffee-colored wrapping. Their breaths came in ragged gasps as they ascended, the weight of their cargo evident in their strained expressions.
By the time they reached the top step, one of them let slip a muttered curse under his breath. Reena heard it, but she paid it no mind. If she were in their place, she feared she might collapse right there on the floor, long before reaching her intended destination.
“Just lean it against the wall,” she requested.
The couriers, still catching their breath, carefully followed her instructions. As soon as they let go of the frame, both wiped their sweaty faces with their own shirts, clearly flustered by the strenuous effort. Feeling a twinge of guilt for the difficulty she’d caused, Reena bit her lip and handed each of them a generous tip.
“Thank you,” she said in appreciation, forcing a smile on her face.
They wasted no time in departing, their steps seemingly apprehensive as they passed by Tommy’s men on their way out, all of whom cast menacing glances in their direction. Once they were safely beyond the estate’s gates, Reena made her way back inside to inspect the item. Carefully, she unwrapped the frame, her fingers moving deftly as she tore away the thin paper that concealed the artwork’s magnificence.
Before her, a majestic portrait of Asuka came into view. Asuka’s narrow eyes held a subtle, enigmatic smile, mirroring the crimson hue of her lips. Her raven hair was expertly pulled back into a precise bun, while the golden brooch adorning her chest sparkled so convincingly that it seemed almost tangible, accentuating every detail in the hyperrealistic portrait. Asuka’s body was angled slightly to the side, her legs crossed with hands clasped and resting above her knees. The portrayal captured not only her physical grace but also her presence. She had become the first Asian to secure a place in Vice City, and the portrait served as proof of her legacy as a waka-gashira.
Every penny Reena had spent on the artwork was worth it. Her dear friend deserved nothing less than a splendid gift, one that was especially fitting for the grand opening of her new casino. As the evening approached, Reena couldn’t help but feel a sense of anticipation as she looked forward to reuniting with her friends once more.
And apart from that, her desire to go to Vice Point was laced with another purpose.
They must know something… things that her husband still refused to tell her.
She wasn’t letting this opportunity pass.
In the past few days, it seemed to Reena that she was reliving her grief all over again. Everything Tommy had revealed to her recently had left a mark, one that felt different, more agonizing.
After that night, Tommy had left their room, finding solace somewhere else in the estate but not beside her. No words had been spoken; no more tears had been shed. Even with their children, Tommy remained distant. But she couldn’t be bothered either. She needed space to think through, though, to Reena, it didn’t make any difference.
Tommy had concealed so much from her, things she had a right to know, blindsiding her with revelations that could have offered her some measure of peace, though not completely. It was a tormenting sensation as if each hidden truth carved the path for another cycle of suffering that she no longer wished to endure.
But she wasn’t going down that same road, not because of it, and certainly, not because of him.
Reena prepared early. She bought a special dress for this occasion, a long gown with a shade of black, adorned with glitters that made it look like a starry night sky. The dress was tapered at the waist, cinched with a satin sash that accentuated her figure. Its skirt flowed gracefully, cascading to the floor in a gentle silhouette. It had a daring yet tasteful slit along one thigh, allowing just a hint of her leg to peek through as she walked.
The fabric shimmered under the soft glow of the lights, and completing her attire was a pair of stiletto heels and a clutch purse.
With a hint of eyeshadow and a swipe of lipstick, Reena was prepared for the grand opening. As she stood in their room, about to leave, she retrieved the brooch that Asuka had gifted her – a Yakuza insignia. Carefully, she fastened it over her left chest.
When Mrs. Hubbard saw her, her eyes twinkled in delight, as if seeing her in that way was a unique opportunity. Even Cleo and Tamia looked so stunned upon laying their eyes on her, their adorable gaping mouths a testament that they almost didn’t recognize her.
After kissing them goodbye and giving Mrs. Hubbard some instructions, Reena departed from the nursery, carefully trudging her steps down the hall and the stairs, finding the portrait in the foyer, ready to be mounted in the car. Near the door was Marcus, his head turning in her direction, and even his usually stoic demeanor somehow flickered amazement, though not for long.
“Marcus,” she greeted painstakingly, her movements toward him still measured. “Have you seen Leigh?”
He had rather lifted his chin. “He just went to the armory, Miss. Do you need anything?”
She ran her hand on the sides of the portrait, the pads of her fingers tracing its frame. “He’s driving for me.”
Marcus’s brows creased in the middle. “To the opening?”
“Yes,” she replied immediately. “What’s the matter?”
“Hasn’t Boss told you yet?” Marcus asked.
Reena stared at him momentarily, confused at what he was saying. Was the opening canceled? But Asuka hadn’t told her anything yet. 8-Ball even sent her a message, saying that he was excited to see her again.
“What’s going on?”
Reena cast a glance over her shoulder and spotted Tommy at the foot of the staircase. He was dressed impeccably in a tailored suit, its fabric embracing his form and accentuating his broad shoulders and slender waist. The top buttons of the crisp white shirt beneath the suit jacket were undone, revealing his gold-chain necklace and offering a glimpse of the rugged charm that accompanied his stubbled chin. In his grasp, he held a cane, a replacement for the old crutch he had previously relied on.
With a casual grace, he withdrew his hands from his pockets and folded his arms across his chest. “What’s that?” he inquired, his gaze briefly lingering on the portrait before shifting back to Reena. His eyes traced her figure, and there was a flicker of something within him, a stirred emotion.
“My gift for Asuka,” she said with a smile, her voice barely above a whisper. “Do you think she’ll like it?”
Tommy beamed in return, though it felt strained. “Yeah, of course. It’s fantastic…”
“She deserves this gift,” she continued, patting the frame. “I’ll have Leigh put a velvet cloth on it. I want to unwrap it myself for Asuka–”
“Wait, what did you say?” Tommy interrupted, his brow furrowing with confusion.
“In the opening, it’s tonight, isn’t it?” Reena inquired, maintaining her look on his bewildered face. “Maybe we can use the Moonbeam. I’m sure it has enough space for the portrait.”
Tommy pursed his lips, then took a step toward her. His cane struck the floor, the rhythmic thud matching the pace of her racing heart. “What do you mean by ‘we can use the Moonbeam’?”
Reena glanced at Marcus, then back at Tommy. “Aren’t we going? I’m sure Asuka expects us. She sent me a message last night. Maria and 8-Ball will be there—”
“Of course, I am going,” Tommy ascertained, closing the distance between them. It had been a few days since they stood so close to each other, making Reena tense as he reached out to her face. His hand felt cool against her cheek as if it were a foreign touch. A couple of his fingers brushed her jawline, and then he smiled. “I’ll deliver your gift, don’t worry.”
Reena stood still as she tried to process his words, a whirlwind of emotions churning within her. Initially, she half-expected him to continue, thinking it was some sort of a joke, but instead, Tommy strode past her toward the main door, leaving her standing in dumbfounded silence within the foyer.
Had she misheard him? But with each step he took, each thud of the cane on the floor, it became increasingly apparent that he wasn’t playing around. Reena watched him grow more distant, a sense of confusion enveloping her as she realized what was happening.
He was going, but she wasn’t.
She hastily ran after her husband, her temples pulsating. “Tommy, aren’t you taking me with you?” she asked in desperation.
But Tommy continued to walk. She followed him down the stairs, mindful of each step to avoid stumbling in her heels.
As she almost reached him, Tommy pivoted and fixed her with a stern glare. “No,” he reiterated firmly. “I already told you. You can’t leave the estate.”
“Why not? I’m not going alone. I’m coming with you!”
“When I say no, it’s a no. Do you understand?” he declared, his voice resolute and unyielding.
Reena’s fists clenched into tight balls, and the pressure of her nails digging into her palms sent a sharp sensation through her. Her eyes welled up with frustration, but she fought to keep her emotions in check. “No, Tommy. I don’t understand,” she said, her lips trembling with exasperation. “I need to be with my friend. With my friends. Haven’t I already proven that I’m not leaving you?” She gestured helplessly with her hands.
“After what you did behind me?” Tommy asked, the side of his face twitching.
“I have the right to know those things!” she rebuked, failing to contain her emotions that surged like a relentless flood. “Am I just merchandise to you, like what Ken Rosenberg said?!”
Tommy’s jaw tensed. “You are staying. Your friends will understand. I’ll have them come here tomorrow if that’s what you want.”
“But Tommy–”
“Stop.” He ascended a couple of steps, and despite the lower ground, he still cast a looming presence over her. “We’re not going to argue about this. What I’ve said is final.” He shifted his gaze over her shoulder. “Marcus, wrap the portrait in a cloth and take it to my car.”
“Yes, Boss,” Marcus replied obediently.
Reena’s feet remained planted on the concrete steps as she helplessly watched Tommy go. She wanted to understand him and his reasons, but the more she delved into them, the more she found herself unable to accept the idea that this would be her life until god-knows-when.
As Marcus walked past her, he cast a cool, indifferent glance her way before swiftly descending the stairs. The cold breeze brushed against her exposed arms, causing the fine hairs on her skin to stand on end. Only the lampposts’ glow lit the driveway, the futile light dancing with the shadows of the imposing palm trees, though with each passing moment, it grew dimmer as the clouds overhead hinted at the threat of impending rain.
Tommy’s car dashed out of the garage, a trail of acrid smoke lingering in its wake, its pungent smell stinging her nose. Reena watched the vehicle vanish down the road, departing from her sight in a swift blur. Her arms hung loosely on her side as tears streamed down her face, the purse she held almost slipping from her hold.
Her chest ached with the weight of it all, but amidst the pain, a fluttering sensation stirred in her gut. Would she allow Tommy’s disapproval to keep her from being the friend she was meant to be, the free person she had once been? If she still desired to attend, what lengths would he go to stop her? Would he confine her to their bedroom, a prisoner hidden away?
A defiant determination coursed through her, unfamiliar and invigorating. Tommy, like anyone else, had no right to dictate the course of her life or command her obedience. She was more than just a wife and a mother; she was a friend, a person with her own desires, aspirations, and curiosities.
His words lingered in her mind, the way he glared at her etched in her heart, leaving a sour taste in her mouth, but she refused to let the bitterness fester for long.
She was going to the opening whether Tommy allowed her or not.
Furious, Reena ascended the stairs and rushed to their bedroom. She grabbed a coat and snatched her car keys, then stormed out in heavy, thunderous steps that the carpet could scarcely dampen. Startled by the commotion she was causing, Mrs. Hubbard emerged from the nursery, her sudden appearance catching Reena off guard. However, without a word, Reena simply ignored her.
“Dear, what’s going on?”
“Tommy doesn’t want me to leave the estate,” she said, her chest almost bursting. “But he can’t stop me.”
Reena felt her face burning. Every man she encountered, as she marched through the foyer and into the driveway, regarded her with perplexed expressions. Their prying was palpable, silently questioning her actions, though none of them dared to voice their thoughts – except for one.
“Miss Reena!” Leigh called out. “Boss said you can’t leave the estate!”
“He’s not going to tell me what I can and cannot do!” she exclaimed without missing a beat. Reena hurried into the garage and headed for her car. She slid into the driver’s seat and slammed the door shut, determined to prevent Leigh from interfering. “And neither are you!”
Leigh followed her, crouching down the driver’s seat’s window. “Miss, Boss just wants you to be safe!”
“I heard that a thousand times since he took me from Angel Pine.”
Reena twisted the key and started the engine. Despite Leigh’s pleas, Reena pressed her foot on the gas pedal and drove out of the garage. Unlike her usual careful driving, she didn’t care if she swerved too much to the left or right, as long as she made it out of the estate.
Upon reaching the threshold, she slammed her hand on the horn, unleashing an incessant noise that echoed through the estate, but Tommy’s men refused to open the gates. She pressed the horn once more, but the guards remained unyielding, fueling her anger. She unbuckled her seatbelt and exited the car, heading toward the gates when one of the guards attempted to stop her.
“Don’t you get near me!” she warned. “I’ll tell Tommy that you hurt me!”
“Boss says you can’t leave, Miss,” the man callously claimed.
Reena tried to ignore them, despondency in her chest as she attempted to reach the gates. Her arms were just an outstretch away from the threshold, but the two guards stood firm, blocking her path.
“Let me through,” she murmured demandingly.
“Sorry, Miss. Boss’s orders.”
She nudged past the men and took hold of the steel barricade. Yet, unexpectedly, they reacted swiftly, seizing her arms and giving her a forceful tug.
“Hey, don’t hurt her!” Leigh screamed as he hurried to her spot.
It felt as though the air had been sucked from her lungs, leaving her breathless. Her head spun in a disorienting haze of fury. “You’re going to regret this...” she seethed through clenched teeth, touching the spot of her arm that they touched.
“Miss, come on, go back inside–”
Reena flailed her arms, refusing to let Leigh finish whatever he’d started to say.
The dusk had settled, and as the night deepened, Reena’s emotions mirrored the darkness that overwhelmed her. She found herself pacing back and forth in their bedroom, a nervous habit taking hold as she anxiously bit her nails. The pale light streaming in through the window offered no solace, unable to alleviate the fury that knotted her stomach, and with the threatening pouring, everything just felt a bit heavier.
She was like a caged bird. Frustrated and cornered, she contemplated what to do. Should she crash her car into the gates? Run Tommy’s men over? Or just fucking accept that she couldn’t leave the goddamn estate just because her husband said so?
With no clear course of action in sight, Reena’s thoughts swirled until her gaze landed upon the Waterview.
Her eyes fixed upon the imposing wrought-iron fence that encircled the property. The intricate patterns in the metal were akin to the bars of a gilded cage. She knew that Tommy’s men were stationed throughout the front of the estate, blocking her every exit, but her eyes traced the length of the fence, searching for a chink in the armor.
And then, like a glimmer of hope on the horizon, an idea began to take shape in her mind.
Lightning streaked zigzag lines in the sky, followed by a low rumble of thunder from afar. Drizzles began to splatter on the cemented pavements, the smell of petrichor mingling with the briny sea.
Was it like the feeling she had in her chest? Like lightning violating the dark? Like a grumbling thunder from the depths of her guts? Like the drizzles that the heavens couldn’t prevent from falling as the tears that rolled down her cheeks?
A sharp pain gripped her chest, a visceral fuss as if every nerve within her was tearing apart. The thought of just giving up… to succumb to Tommy’s protectiveness crossed her mind. Yet, a stronger force, fueled by something else, prevailed.
She was not to be treated as mere merchandise, a possession to be kept under lock and key, even by Tommy himself.
Notes:
Thank you!
Chapter 96: Disobedience
Chapter Text
THE CASINO ROYALE stood as a beacon of opulence, its facade adorned with gleaming neon lights that bathed the entire vicinity in a dazzling display. Cherry blossom motifs embellished the entrance, their delicate petals dancing in the breeze, while Shinto-inspired torii gates framed the walkway, inviting guests into a world of sophistication and serenity. Sleek dark wood accents harmonized with neural tones, glowing paper lanterns dangled from eaves, and the marquee displayed the casino’s name in imposing kanji characters, captivating the guests and the passersby alike.
Beneath the ominous lightning streaks dancing across the darkened sky and the distant rumble of thunder, the casino’s radiance shone undiminished. The revelry within the Casino Royale continued unabated, as guests from all walks of life reveled in the grandeur and extravagance that surrounded them.
As Asuka Kasen severed the front ribbon, the atmosphere transformed into one of unbridled jubilation, filled with the noise of applause, cheers, and whistles of the people watching.
“Yokoso minasan,” she greeted, welcoming them all, her chin held high in a display of unyielding pride and honor.
In the center, Reena would’ve looked stunning, wearing the magnificent long gown she was donned, her inviting beauty captivating all eyes that would lay upon her. Yet, Tommy couldn’t afford to be anything less than cautious; his guard couldn’t falter for even a moment. The casino was brimming with guests, some familiar faces and others strangers. He couldn’t handle thinking about her being exposed to the world, not when he knew that his former friend was just lurking around, waiting for the right time to ensnare.
He wasn’t ready to bleed. Not a fucking chance.
The Yakuzas bowed deeply, their deference palpable as Tommy, cane in hand, strode through the casino’s entrance. Marcus trailed behind, and among the bustling crowd, a hushed silence seemed to ripple in his wake. Marcus casually carried a weapon by his side, making no effort to conceal it from prying eyes. And beneath his immaculate suit, Tommy kept a pistol nestled in his belt holster, ready to act decisively should the unexpected happen at this moment.
If a smile was meant to convey a sense of welcome, Alex Shrub’s missed the mark entirely. His grin stretched wide, resembling a donkey’s, with his oversized teeth jutting out from his upper lip. Candy Suxxx stood beside him, clad in a dress that, while less revealing than her typical attire, still showcased her cleavage without a shame.
“Tommy, my friend!” Congressman Shrub attempted to drape an arm over his shoulder, but Marcus swiftly intercepted, grasping the politician’s arm and gently pushing him away.
“Apologies, Mr. Shrub, but Mr. Vercetti is wary of any physical touch.”
The expression on the congressman’s face nearly sent Tommy into fits of laughter, a reaction he knew would be nothing short of insulting. It seemed like Shrub was on the verge of a retort, but Marcus’s intimidating demeanor quelled any inclination to argue, leaving the congressman to force a bitter chuckle as he fixed the knot of his necktie.
“Of course, I’m sorry, my friend. It’s just…” The politician’s gaze roamed the surroundings, and in an instant, he appeared to forget about the earlier confrontation. “This is a magnificent business prospect! I’m glad you allowed Miss Kasen to do this!”
Tommy responded with a resolute nod, his lips pressed tightly. He lacked the desire to engage in conversation with Shrub, and were it not for the congressman’s vocal support for the casino’s construction, Tommy wouldn’t have entertained the idea of inviting him. It was true that, without the politician’s intervention, the Puritans in town would’ve hindered any new gambling ventures. However, pretending as a charitable establishment dedicated to raising funds for the poor in Vice City, and, of course, Shrub’s own vested interests, no one dared to challenge the casino’s presence.
Asuka Kasen made her way toward them, gracefully extricating herself from the group she’d been conversing with. She was wearing a black silk kimono with a gold dragon embroidery, a distinct attire from anyone else. Slowly, she bestowed a warm smile upon Tommy before turning her attention to the congressman, gracing him with another smile, one that Tommy suspected was nothing more than a polite gesture. “I appreciate your presence here, Congressman Shrub. I’m Asuka Kasen. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
“Oh, Miss Kasen, I-uh, oops, wait!” The congressman stumbled and awkwardly bent down, almost resembling a curtsy as he attempted a Japanese greeting. “I’m grateful for your support during my tenure in this splendid town. I hope we can maintain a productive partnership.”
“We will, I’m sure of it,” Asuka affirmed, though her eyes flickered a hint of doubt. “If you’ll excuse us,” she added, glancing at Tommy.
“Of course! We’ll just mingle and enjoy ourselves, won’t we, Candace?” The congressman and his escort departed, blending into the crowd of guests that had congregated near the bar.
Asuka nodded gracefully and inclined her head slightly to the side. Tommy accompanied her to a corner, a secluded spot where no other guests were standing, yet still affording them a clear view of everything. They positioned themselves side by side, with Marcus maintaining a watchful distance.
“I just want to personally thank you for all the help you’ve given me,” she began, her head held high, her gaze sweeping across the room. “I trust you’re doing well now, aren’t you?”
“Yes, thank you. I’m just being more careful,” Tommy replied, his tone measured. He felt his hand close around the handle of the cane, his grip tightening on its wooden hold.
A hushed tension hung in the air as they observed the crowd’s entrance, shrouded in an aura that teetered between excitement and unease. Yakuzas moved through the throngs of people with precision, their eyes sharp and keen. The music pounded in the background, pulsating with the rhythmic dance of strobe lights that painted the packed space with kaleidoscopic hues.
Asuka cleared her throat, breaking the stillness between them. Tommy reluctantly turned to face her.
“Where’s Reena?” she inquired, her curiosity palpable as she studied his face. “I haven’t seen her since you arrived.”
Tommy’s throat tightened as he forced himself to reply. “No, she’s not. Reena’s not feeling well.” He felt a pulse of frustration coursing through him, and the vein in his neck throbbed with pent-up emotions. “I brought her gift to you. Marcus placed it in your office.”
“Unwell?” Asuka’s eyes shifted downward, her skepticism evident. “How is she taking all your strict measures?”
“She’s perfectly fine with them. As soon as we’re in Las Venturas, it doesn’t have to be like this.”
“What about Claude? Have you found him?”
Tommy hesitated. “No...”
New music erupted from the speakers, a cacophony that drowned the surroundings in a chaotic frenzy. Tommy tapped his cane against the ground, offering Asuka a silent farewell.
Just as he was about to step away from the platform, 8-Ball and Maria appeared. Amid the darkness, Tommy discerned a sharp glint in 8-Ball’s eyes. Meanwhile, Maria emitted a joyful squeal and rushed toward Tommy, her arms outstretched for a hug. Her strength caught Tommy by surprise as she enveloped him, nearly toppling him over. Even Marcus couldn’t hide his astonishment as Tommy braced himself against Maria’s embrace. With a smile breaking across his face, Tommy hugged her back, if only lightly, while Marcus looked on, seemingly wary.
Maria’s wide grin remained firmly in place as she scanned her surroundings before turning back to look at Tommy. “Where’s Reena?” she asked, her excitement undiminished.
Tommy lowered his head, avoiding 8-Ball’s stare. “I’m sorry, Maria,” he said softly. “She’s not feeling well tonight. I’ll take you to the estate tomorrow so you can spend time with her there–”
“What do you mean she ain’t feelin’ well?!” 8-Ball suddenly interjected, his tone edged with suspicion, forcing Tommy to glance in his direction. “She confirmed she’s coming this morning. She even said she bought a gift for Asuka!”
“The gift’s in her office now,” Tommy interjected, taking a step back. “I needed to bring it for her because she really can’t leave the estate right now.”
In spite of the strong rhythmic patterns, fast tempos, and tuneful riffs that filled the air with lively energy, Tommy could feel the utter disbelief in 8-Ball’s features. He scoffed, and his arm raised, pointing a stiff finger at Tommy. “You purposely didn’t bring her here, did you?!” 8-Ball accused, his voice tinged with anger and suspicion.
Tommy had had enough. For years, he’d endured 8-Ball’s mockery, unmistakable dislike, and offensive words. With Reena around, he needed to be civil, but now that he was alone facing 8-Ball, Tommy didn’t need to feign civility any longer. It was clear that 8-Ball would never accept him, and trying to be agreeable at this point would be a futile endeavor.
He squared his shoulders, lifted his chin, and braced himself, all the while taking a couple of steps closer to Claude’s loyal friend. “I don’t think you’re in any place to accuse me, 8-Ball Hudson. You’ve done your part in this shit too–”
Tommy almost tumbled down as 8-Ball’s hands snagged his suit, yanking him forward with a sudden, jarring force. The room seemed to freeze. Asuka stood motionless, Maria gasped audibly, and Marcus, ever vigilant, moved toward them. Tommy swiftly raised his hand, signaling Marcus to stay back.
“Get your fucking hands off me,” Tommy growled.
8-Ball’s breath flared in palpable exasperation, but after a moment that seemed to stretch for eternity, he begrudgingly ungripped Tommy’s suit. Tommy smoothed out his disheveled collars, adjusted the neckline of his shirt, tugged at his lapel, and meticulously patted the fabric flat. Asuka positioned herself between the two men, her hushed words directed at 8-Ball, their conversation veiled from Tommy’s ears. Meanwhile, Maria stood frozen in place, her hands covering her mouth, her wide eyes darting between 8-Ball and him.
A burst of bluesy music filled the air, a performance that commanded the attention and applause of the guests. Tommy ran his fingers through his hair, his gaze remaining fixed on 8-Ball, his apprehension and irritation still simmering beneath the surface.
“If you think I’m letting this go, you’re wrong…” 8-Ball hissed as he nudged his shoulder, getting out of Asuka’s grasp. “Fuck you, Tommy!”
His nerves tugged within, his veins almost bursting in fury. “Fuck you!”
“Enough, both of you!” Asuka intervened, turning to 8-Ball and giving him a slight push. “Could you please go to the suite first? You’re not acting–”
“Reena!”
Maria dashed through the crowd, shoving people out of her way in haste. Tommy followed her frantic path, and when his eyes fell upon his wife standing among the gathering, his breath caught in his throat. His heart raced, and every nerve in his body seemed to ache. The throbbing in his head intensified, his nails digging into his palm.
As Reena hugged Maria tightly, her gaze briefly flickered in his direction, but she quickly averted her eyes, and it felt like a knife twisting in his gut.
“I’m so glad you made it! Are you feeling well? Tommy said you’re sick!” Maria exclaimed.
“Yeah, I am,” Reena replied, casting a nervous glance in Tommy’s direction as he approached. “I’m sorry, I was kind of... under the weather.” Her voice wavered slightly as she spoke.
They talked, and Maria Latore had a lot to say, blabbering endlessly. Reena smiled painstakingly at everything her friend said, but Tommy could feel her apprehension. It was reeking through her shimmering eyes and beautiful face. Her laughter sounded forced, and there was a noticeable tension in her gestures like she was trying to hide something from him.
Tommy couldn’t take it anymore. With determined steps, he approached Reena and Maria, the tapping of his cane on the floor resonating through the buzz of the crowd.
“Maria, could you please excuse us?” he said.
“Oh, of course, Tommy–”
He didn’t care about what Maria had to say. Tommy’s grip on his wife’s elbow was unyielding, almost squeezing, as he forcefully pulled her aside. Maria and 8-Ball attempted to pursue, but Marcus stood squarely in their path, barring their approach.
“Reena!” 8-Ball called out, his voice frantic. “Tommy, where the fuck are you takin’ her?!”
Everything around him hushed into a deafening silence. It felt like a long stretch, a hard work, but Tommy pushed through, dragging Reena along. The moment they reached a secluded spot, he propelled his wife to the nearest empty hallway.
“Tommy, listen to me–”
His grip tightened even more, prompting a sharp hiss from her. Though she continued to wrest herself free, Tommy’s hold remained. As soon as they reached the cornermost room, he thrust the door open and vehemently pushed her inside, and then he slammed the door closed, separating them from the rest.
Reena faltered, struggling to keep up in her heels. She stood in the corner, near a black couch, while Tommy could feel himself losing his ground. Every fiber of his being screamed with frustration, his hand clenching and unclenching as he began to pace back and forth.
An overwhelming wrath surged within him. He wanted to punch the wall. He wanted to flip the table. He wanted to smash everything in the room, including the portrait leaning near the office decorations. It had been barely a minute since she arrived at the casino, and here he was again, confining her to a room like a prisoner.
He didn’t want to do this to her, but he had to.
Tommy stopped abruptly right in front of her. “You really didn’t know how to listen, did you?”
She appeared to suppress a lump in her throat, her eyes betraying a deep sense of fear. “I-I’m here because–”
“Didn’t I make it clear that you couldn’t fucking leave the estate?!”
Her teeth sank into her lower lip, her jaw quivering as she appeared to hold back tears. His eyes focused on the area she was gently touching, noticing the imprints of his fingers on her skin, but he couldn’t find any remorse within himself.
“How did you get out?! Did Leigh let you sneak out again?!” he asked, demanding an answer.
“L-Leigh had nothing to do with this. None of them. I-I forced my way out!” she screamed. “And for God’s sake, Tommy, you have no right to tell me what to do!”
Tommy’s next actions were a blur to him. Driven to the edge, his hand shot out, seizing her face. She felt as light as a leaf in a storm, effortlessly pushed against the wall by Tommy’s force. His fingers bit into her flesh, into her cheeks, and despite his inner struggle, he found himself unable to loosen his grip, only tightening it further.
“You’re so stubborn,” he growled. “So… fucking… stubborn…”
In this room, he could do anything, everything he wanted to do to her. No one would hear, no one would bat an eye. A lot of things raced through Tommy’s mind, all of them gnawing at his will. At his remaining strength. At his remaining sanity.
His eyes fell on her quivering lips, feeling the air she huffed, a breath filled with terror. Then, when he lifted his gaze, all he could see was her torment. The love and care that had once filled her eyes now dwindled, overshadowed by fear and misery… by her vulnerability, the tears that rolled down her cheeks a silent plea for his mercy and understanding.
“Tommy…” she said, barely a whisper. “Please… please don’t hurt me…”
It was like a sudden awakening for him, a jolt that snapped him out of his trance. Tommy released her, creating a space between them, the ache in his leg pulsating like waves of electricity. He was taken aback to find his other hand clenched into a fist, poised as if ready to strike.
This was not how he had wanted things to be. He never wanted to hurt her. He promised to keep her safe. But he couldn’t let her defy him.
Reena’s body waned as she sank onto the couch, tears flowing freely down her cheeks. “I don’t know who you are anymore,” she whispered, her voice heavy with sorrow and disbelief. “You’re not the Tommy I fell in love with…”
Her words struck him like a blow to the gut, feeling the pressure build in his throat, threatening to unravel the tightly wound threads of his composure.
“Why are you doing this to me?” Reena asked, almost pleading.
Tommy wanted to answer her that it was because he loved her… but he knew far better than that. He knew that what he was doing was an act not out of love, but out of his necessity… out of his need for her that he couldn’t let go.
“Talk to me, please…”
Tommy couldn’t bear to look at her any longer. He turned away, his heart shredding into pieces. Pulling out his phone, he dialed Marcus’s number, the ringing tone grating on his nerves like an incessant buzz.
Reena said something once more, but her voice felt muffled in his head. His heart was telling him to listen to her… to listen to what she had to say, but somehow, his mind drifted away, tearing apart from his ability to understand. He knew he should reach for her, tell her he was sorry, apologize for what he had done. Reena would understand. Reena would forgive him. But then again, his urge was larger than his reason, rendering him unable to do anything.
“Boss,” Marcus answered, finally putting an end to the endless ringing.
“We’re in Asuka’s office,” he replied, his gaze fixed on the window, where he could see the sand meeting the sea below. It was beautiful out there… so beautiful, but it hurt that its beauty couldn’t clear the darkness in his heart. “Prepare the car. We’re leaving.”
The room was filled with silence. Reena’s sobs no longer reached his ear, not even her breaths. Tommy felt his hand close around the tip of the cane, his weight pressing down. He shut his eyes tightly, and, surprisingly, he felt a tear crawl down his cheek.
He couldn’t stop it anymore. He couldn’t stop himself anymore.
“Baby…” he mumbled.
A sudden clatter caught his attention, followed by a stifled thud of footsteps and a faint rustling sound. Tommy turned swiftly, and his eyes widened as he saw Reena bolting out the door, her bare feet padding quickly across the tiled floor.
“Reena!”
Leaving his cane behind, Tommy ignored the persisting dull ache, attempting to take long strides with his limping leg. Without a thought, he scampered after his wife, the polished hall slick beneath his shoes as he aimed to close the gap between them.
But she was already far away.
Notes:
Thank you!
Chapter 97: The Truth
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
REENA ALWAYS THOUGHT that there was nothing she could ask for in life. Tommy had always been gentle, caring, and overflowing with love. He was the kind of person who had never raised his voice at her, had never been harsh, and had never treated her in a way that would make her doubt her choices.
But now, it felt like everything Reena had ever believed about him and their relationship was nothing short of a fantasy. It was as though a switch had been flipped, and in an instant, it awakened a beast that had been concealed beneath the Tommy she knew and loved.
The change was subtle at first, like the soft rustling of leaves before a storm. But as time passed, it became more pronounced, like a distant rumble growing closer and closer. His once-gentle touch now had a vice-like grip upon her neck, smothering her in every way. His words, once a soothing sound, took on a deeper, more primal tone that Reena could no longer recognize.
She found herself questioning if he was still the same man she’d known and cherished, the man with whom she’d shared her life and built a family. It was hard to fathom that the person who had once been her rock, helping her heal from a painful and sorrowful past, had crumbled and turned into something she couldn’t touch.
This new Tommy seemed driven by a desire to confine her, to exert control in ways she’d never anticipated. He’d pull her in one direction, then push her in another, leaving her feeling like a stringed puppet in his hands. His questions felt like a relentless interrogation, each one loaded with suspicion and doubt as if he were searching for something in her that she didn’t have. It was a huge difference to the man who had once held her close, wiping away her tears and promising to protect her and her children from the world.
Now, she wondered if Tommy had always been that way, just unseen from her rose-colored lenses.
Even though she’d run away, she could still feel his fingers digging into her cheeks and the pulsating dull ache in the back of her head after he shoved her onto the wall. Her arm which he’d yanked from the main hall toward the office still felt tender and sore.
Was it her fault for being hard-headed? Was it wrong to desire to uncover things? Was it unacceptable to ask questions that he couldn’t seem to answer, or wasn’t willing to answer at all? Had she been more sensitive to his needs, more compassionate to his situation, and more yielding to his requests and orders, would this all happen?
Reena couldn’t help but wrestle with these questions, each one a dagger that pierced her heart. Her need for freedom and the truth clashed with Tommy’s motives, and in that collision, their love and relationship felt so small… so insignificant, like a spec of dust drifting in space that could do nothing to hold them back together.
The tiled pavement sent an icy shock through her bare feet as she bolted out of the corridor, but Reena paid no mind to the biting cold. The slam of the door reverberated behind her, along with Tommy’s footsteps and screams, but she kept running until she reached the lounge, where a sea of guests remained absorbed in their own amusements. Crystal wine glasses and elegant snifters clinked together in harmonious discord, waves of laughter surged, and the ceaseless buzz of conversation deafened her ears.
Hopelessness urged her forward as she pushed herself into the throng of people. Her heart drummed so loud in her chest, a persistent rhythm that threatened to burst from her ribcage. The neon lights flashed so intensely that they bordered on blinding, turning the entire environment into pulsating flashes before her eyes.
Reena fought to catch her breath as she pressed deeper into the crowd, seeking refuge. Desperation clawed at her insides as she frantically scanned the people around her, searching for a familiar face among the chaotic throng – perhaps 8-Ball, Maria, or Asuka. Yet, to her mounting distress and shrinking hope, she found no one.
Tears began to well in her eyes, obscuring her vision, as she realized the possibility of not being able to escape her husband’s clutches.
He’d hurt her. And he’d do it again. She knew.
Her head was spinning in confusion and fear when a source of light caught her attention. It was spilling in from the outside like a merciful escape, inviting her to come close. Her eyes widened as she realized what it was, and without a second thought, Reena dashed in its direction.
A breath of fresh air, tinged with a sweet yet pungent zing, rushed into her lungs as she made it out of the casino. It was less suffocating, but it wasn’t freeing either. The exterior lights of the casino were glowing, but the clouds in the heavens were darker and denser, a foreboding shade of dim, accompanied by the ceaseless gust of the wind that continued to blow against everything.
With her dress billowing and her hair dancing in the brisk breeze, she clutched herself tightly and ventured further from the casino. Her feet pressed into the uneven, sandy terrain, and the grains sneaked their way between her toes with every step. The crashing waves of the nearby beach grew steadily louder, their rhythm drowning out all other sounds.
I have to get out of here! I have to get the hell out of–
“Reena!”
A call jolted her from her thoughts. Swiftly, Reena glanced over her shoulder, finding a sedan parked in the middle of the sandy ground, like one of those that Asuka and her Yakuzas ride in Liberty City. And there, she caught a glimpse of a familiar-looking man, sprinting toward her with a wide smile stretched across his face.
“Good thing you’re already here!” Ken shouted delightfully. “We’ve been waiting for you!”
It was as if her life flashed before her eyes. Everything was fine, everything was going well until Ken Rosenberg showed up again in Vice City. Until he sent that letter to Tommy. Until he conspired with someone to harm her husband. Until he started implanting ideas in her head that went against Tommy’s wishes.
There was no one else to blame but this man who disguised himself as her friend. A wolf in a sheep’s clothing.
“You!” Reena yelled, her cheeks and nose burning. “You did this! All of this!”
Ken seemed to be slightly taken aback, his wide smile now turning uncertain. “W-Why? What’s going on?” he stammered, confusion etched on his face.
Reena yearned to jab her finger into his chest, to give him a forceful shove, to seize the lapels of his suit, and to shake him until he understood her frustration. But her hands felt weak, her arms strangely uncooperative, and her mind devoid of justifiable reason.
“What do you want from Tommy?” she asked, choking on her own tears that she was barely able to stop. “Because of you… that letter… and that document… Tommy changed! My husband changed! Why can’t you just leave him alone?!”
Ken Rosenberg was momentarily speechless. He squinted, shook his head, and dropped his chin to his chest. His lips formed a tight line, and when he lifted his head again, his expression was a mix of vindication and indifference.
“You still don’t get it, do you?” he began, his voice tinged with disappointment. “Did you read the document just like–”
“No, and I don’t need to know what’s in there just to prove your point!” Her words spilled out, a fervent declaration of her resolve. “Stay away from my family, stay away from my husband! I’m begging you…”
A condescending huff of disbelief was Ken’s response, his hand finding its way to his forehead. “Oh my god, Reena…” he sneered, his tone dripping with contempt. “I can’t believe you are this... dumb! No wonder Tommy chose you! You’re easy to fool!”
“This is not about me,” she retorted. Her hands instinctively clutched her chest, pain radiating through her body. “This is about you harassing my husband… about you breaking our family apart–”
“You know what? Cut this shit out,” Ken interjected, then turned around and pointed at the sedan where he came from. “See that?! Look at the car, Reena, and see for yourself!”
Nobody seemed to be listening to her, and in that moment, Reena had never felt so profoundly unheard. No matter what she said or did, no one was going to heed her voice. It felt so helpless to find someone who would listen to her cries and pleas, to her screams and whispers, until her own inner voice ran out of hope.
Reena’s heart pounded in her chest as she surrendered, allowing herself to just look at wherever Ken Rosenberg was pointing.
The sedan’s headlights flickered and then abruptly shut off, the engine falling into a disquieting silence. The door to the driver’s seat swung open, and a man emerged from within. He stood at a distance that wasn’t too close yet not too far.
Reena felt her face churn, a reaction she didn’t expect from herself. Her gaze darted back to Ken in confusion, but all she could see was the sly grin on his face. She returned her attention to the man, her eyes locking with his.
Though a thick beard covered half his face, his sideburns remained strikingly prominent. The creases atop his nose had never faded, and his eyes... the way his eyes trained on her brought her back in time, to a moment when she had accidentally spilled a tray of beer on the clothes of the person she could never imagine living without.
Reena wondered if she’d always felt the world spinning around her because now, everything else just stopped.
His face… she could never mistake him for someone else. Those eyes... she could feel their gaze piercing through her soul. The way he stood, the way he moved, even the way he breathed... There was no mistaking it.
The air in her lungs hung thick and stagnant, causing her jaw to drop as if she’d just seen the ghost that had haunted her every night face to face.
Her first heartbreak.
Her son’s father.
Her one true love.
As Reena stood still, her feet planted into the ground, and bittersweet memories flooded her mind like a torrent, each a reminder of a past she thought she had let go. And though the words she had to say were lost into oblivion, one word remained – a name, escaping her lips that had yearned to say it for a long time.
“Claude?”
The gusts of wind swirling around them seemed to be muffled by the surge of emotions that overwhelmed her. She took a tentative step forward, her feet dragging through the sand. With each movement, her body felt increasingly unsteady, as if her knees might give in at any moment, reminiscent of a child taking its first wobbly steps. Her head throbbed with a kind of pain she couldn’t explain, but even then, Reena continued to stride.
“Claude…” Her lips trembled as she muttered his name once more.
Reena thought she was gliding as her surroundings became blurred, the cool breeze caressing her skin as she drifted. It was surreal, like a dream, until she realized that she was already running, dashing toward him. With every step, every inch she drew close, her heart raced in sync, reverberating a rhythm akin to the beating of a drum.
She didn’t care about what was real and what was not anymore. No more.
And if this were just a dream, she pleaded with the heavens to let her remain asleep forever.
Reena threw herself into his arms, and she enveloped his body in a tight embrace, her arms wrapping around the familiar frame her heart had ached to feel for so long. The sensation of his chest against her face, his warmth and all, caused all the chaos, confusion, and torment within her to subside. A gasp, a whimper, or probably, a wail came out of her, each inhalation of air she took in feeling like a drowning salvation.
Tears streamed down her cheeks as she reached out to touch his face, her fingers gently lifting his chin and running through his hair in frantic, desperate movements as if she were trying to convince herself that he was indeed real.
“You’re alive…” she cried out, laughing and sobbing at once. “You’re alive!”
All the other words that she said were incoherent, even to her, a jumble of emotions too overpowering to articulate. Her hands explored every part of his face, trailed down his neck, and traced the contours of his chest and shoulders. When she touched his hand, Reena felt her breath hitch. The faint line – the scar – was there, etched across his palm.
“Oh my god…” she cried over and over again.
Only the heavens knew how long she’d yearned for this moment, if not forever.
Reena pressed a deep, longing kiss onto his hand, and then she reached for the back of his neck, swiftly pulling him closer. Her heart ached as their lips touched.
The last time she’d felt his kiss was that fateful night in the Cochrane Dam, amid the fiery menace that she thought took his life. It was a memory in her sweet dreams and her horrible nightmares, something she’d cried for on lonely nights and fervently prayed to experience once more. But as her longing heart tasted his lips, there was a profound sense of completeness as if every missing piece in her life had been filled with happiness she never knew she could have.
His kiss was warm but stiff; he remained unmoving and unresponsive, but Reena couldn’t have cared less. All that mattered to her now was the reality that he was here, standing right in front of her, breathing and undeniably alive.
Once she let go of his cusps, Reena cupped his cheeks, taking another good, long look at his face. She didn’t want to close her eyes, let alone blink, fearing that he might disappear the moment she did. “I thought you were gone…” she murmured, her voice shaking uncontrollably.
She felt like she could die right then and there, as long as she could stay with him at that moment just a bit longer. But what had seemed like an eternity was abruptly shattered when her hands, seemingly guided by a mind of their own, pressed against his body and vehemently pushed him away.
Claude appeared startled, taking a couple of steps backward in response. Yet, in a swift and determined motion, Reena’s hand shot out, delivering a hard slap to his cheek that turned his face to the other side.
“Why did you leave me?!” she yelled. “Why?!”
All of a sudden, Reena didn’t know what she truly felt. She was ecstatic, then she was miserable. She was relieved, then she was despising. She was sure she felt as if she could have the world, but now she was ready to throw it all away. Her arms flung forward as she screamed, her fists pounding against his body. Claude did little more than catch her arms and recoil from her slaps and punches. He began to say something, trying to stop her, but Reena wasn’t hearing any of it.
“You left me!” she rebuked, angry and hurt. “You left me all alone!”
Claude wrapped his arms around her, attempting to calm her down. Reena resisted, struggling to get out of his grasp. She did everything she could, but Claude’s arms were too strong, too unyielding to thwart.
“I waited for you… I waited for you every single day…” she sobbed.
As she desperately tried to free herself from his hold, Reena felt his breath on the top of her head. The fury that had swept her off her feet had faded into nothingness, now replaced by a harrowing sense of her stomach sinking. With shaky fingers, she clung to his shirt, her grip slowly loosening as her resistance began to wane. Still, she tried to push him away, but his sturdy limbs held her firmly in a loving embrace until finally, she resigned.
“I thought I lost you…” she cried, stumping her fists against his bosom. “Tommy said you were dead… I thought you were gone!”
All those years of pain and longing, the solitude she had endured, the misery she had wallowed in... it all could have been avoided if he had only come and shown up.
Reena lifted her head, and as she looked into his eyes, she saw his gaze shift, falling upon her left hand.
The gold wedding ring she wore glimmered like an inescapable curse, a reminder of a choice that could never be undone.
Terror clawed at her chest as she abruptly withdrew from Claude’s embrace, feeling a brutal slap on her face. Soon, her legs began to wobble beneath her, rendering her unable to keep standing, but Claude swiftly caught her, preventing her from collapsing to the ground.
“This is what I’ve been trying to tell you all this time, Reena…”
The voice broke through the turmoil in her head, an echo in the void that urged her to look over her shoulder. And to her surprise, Ken Rosenberg was still standing there, the uncanny smile on his face rather unfading.
“All of them knew. All of your friends… Asuka, 8-Ball, Maria... and Tommy,” he declared, emphasizing the name of the man she had tied the knot with. “He knew about Claude all along...”
In an instant, a cold shiver raced down Reena’s spine, and her heart seemed to seize within her chest. Her vision wavered, and her legs trembled beneath her, threatening to give in.
With feeble arms, she sought for an anchor to hold on to, to keep her composure, but it was futile. The world started to spin again, but it was too fast, too rapid that Reena didn’t have the chance to get back on her feet. All she knew was as the world drained of color, a couple of sturdy arms held her up, carrying her weight, keeping her from falling.
She whimpered as she felt Claude’s face in her hands.
“How… how can they do this to me?”
Notes:
Thank you!
Chapter 98: Defeated
Chapter Text
HAD TOMMY NOT turn his back, Reena wouldn’t have been able to leave his sight.
And if not for his goddamn leg, he would have caught up with her in time.
Reena, like the wind, vanished so quickly, leaving Tommy standing and struggling in the seemingly endless hallways that kept on stretching before him like a labyrinth. He took another step, determined not to falter, but without the cane, Tommy could only move little by little. He pressed his hand on the walls for support, moving forward with a sense of urgency.
As he reached the lounge, everything felt more chaotic. Staggering, Tommy retraced his steps to the area they left earlier, his fists clenched on the side as he fought to keep his balance. However, the platform now stood desolate, void of any signs of his wife. He peered down once more, scanning the crowd below, only to find nothing but a couple of women winking at him, seemingly thinking he was interested in them.
Disappointed, Tommy decided to leave the balcony. As he walked through the crowd, his chest tightened when he spotted Asuka and Maria, both appearing agitated in their own ways. Maria seemed frantic, while Asuka, typically calm, appeared visibly perturbed. As much as he didn’t want to speak with them or seek their help, Tommy had no choice, so he limped down the stairs toward them.
But 8-Ball suddenly appeared in his path, blocking him along the way. Tommy stiffened, looking at the man whose steps were unsteady and whose eyes held a glassy, unfocused gaze. The pungent smell of alcohol wafted from him, tainting the air with a sour stench.
“Where’d you take Reena?!” 8-Ball demanded, pushing Tommy slightly. His words slurred and his breath reeked, a clear indication that he’d indulged in more than a few drinks. In his hand, he held a bottle which he promptly chugged, the contents spilling into the side of his mouth as he glared daggers. “What did you do to her, huh?!”
“I don’t have time for this,” Tommy retorted. As he was about to move forward, however, 8-Ball’s iron grip clamped down on his shoulder. The force spun him around, the sudden action catching Tommy completely off guard. And even though he’d already faced 8-Ball, Tommy could still feel the man’s fingers digging into his flesh, the pressure unrelenting and insistent.
“Don’t you dare turn your back on me!” 8-Ball hollered, his eyes burning with fury. “Where’s Reena?! Where’d you take our friend?! Did you lock ‘er up again, huh?!”
“You don’t have any idea what’s going on…” Tommy replied.
“She should’ve never been with you…” 8-Ball dropped, followed by a hiccup and a laughter. “She’d never love you the way she loved my brother–”
“Don’t pretend you’re a good friend either, 8-Ball Hudson,” Tommy growled, unable to let the insult pass. “You didn’t have the spine to do the shit I did!”
8-Ball raised his fist. Tommy prepared himself to strike back, but out of nowhere, Marcus lunged, seizing 8-Ball’s wrist. In a swift motion, Marcus twisted 8-Ball’s arm behind his back and slammed him against the wall nearby. 8-Ball shrieked in pain, his cries causing the people around them to scatter, their faces contorted in shock.
As if the trouble was not enough, a group of Yakuzas emerged and surged forward, grabbing Marcus’s arms. Their intent was clear, and Marcus seemed ready to defend himself, but just as tensions reached a boiling point, Asuka arrived on the scene with Maria on her trail. The waka-gashira raised her hand, a firm, authoritative movement, effectively halting the Yakuzas from further involvement.
“Tommy, tell your henchman to let 8-Ball go,” Asuka demanded, her demeanor stern.
He didn’t want to. After all that 8-Ball had done, Tommy was willing to watch Marcus beat the shit out of him. Yet, Tommy tapped Marcus on the arm, gently urging him to unhand the drunk man. “Let him go. We don’t need this. We have more important things to do–”
“It’s the second time he’s touched you, Boss!”
“I said fucking let him go, Marcus.”
The commotion had attracted the attention of several guests, including Alex Shrub, their whispers forming an indistinguishable hum in the background. Marcus clenched his teeth, but in compliance with Tommy’s directive, he released his grip on 8-Ball, who turned around, nursing his throbbing wrist.
“Tommy,” Asuka called out, staring at him with her chin up high. “I think you need to leave.”
Damn, he didn’t even want to be here in the first place, and now he regretted it more than ever. Dealing with an inebriated man, a disappointed Yakuza, or anyone else insignificant was the least of his priorities. With his heart pounding in his chest and fists clenched into tight balls, Tommy walked past Asuka and her guards.
“Not until I found my wife,” he said loud enough for her to hear.
The commotion went on, but Tommy paid it no mind. He marched away from the group with Marcus on his wake. Tommy gestured toward the hallway that led to Asuka’s office. Without exchanging words, the henchman gave a silent nod and headed on his way.
Tommy was confident that his family would come to love Prickle Pine. The dunes that stretched behind the property were a breathtaking sight, distinct from the Waterview but still possessing their own majestic charm. He knew that his wife would appreciate it just as much as she enjoyed gazing at the skyline during sunset, and their children would love to run and play in the expansive space that they could have for themselves all day.
The past couple of years gifted him a wonderful life. Just as when he believed his existence had lost all meaning, he found Reena, built a family with her, and discovered a sense of purpose he never knew he was looking for. For many years, Tommy had been trapped in a dead-end, ensnared in the web of clandestine matters, and caught in an unending cycle of search for power, but he had finally glimpsed a sliver of hope at the end of the tunnel. He was prepared to leave everything he had painstakingly created over the years just to be with Reena and their children… to live a peaceful, normal life he believed he deserved.
But if he didn’t find her now, the life he constructed over the rubble of his past would crumble into dust before his eyes.
Rubbing the back of his hand against his nose, Tommy attempted to dispel the lingering, unsettling sensation that clung to his skin. He tramped toward the threshold where fewer people lingered, then exited the casino. Despite the bright lamppost outside, the skies were undeniably murky. His heartbeat echoed the pitter-patter of the rain, each thud mirroring the slow but steady descent of droplets hitting the ground and bouncing off the roofs of the cars in the parking lot. The looming clouds swirled on the horizon, their density surpassing that of the ones scattered atop the skyscrapers that surrounded the Casino Royale.
He vaulted over the curb as he reached the end of the parking lot, his feet stirring up the ground, leaving a trail of footprints in the dirt. Tommy’s chest tightened as he raised his eyes, scanning ahead to see if Reena was anywhere in sight. Raindrops splattered against his face and hair as he hurried forward, his gaze darting in every direction.
His thoughts churned with regret, replaying the moment when he yanked her into Asuka’s office, shoved her against the wall, and hurt her. His very actions drove his Reena away from him. Tommy knew he had to find her, make amends, hold her close, and promise to be different. As he pressed on through the parking lot, his determination burned brighter than ever, fueled by the hope of reuniting with the woman he loved…
…and to keep her in his arms forever no matter what.
His growing desperation gnawed at his senses as he continued to find no signs of her, the air becoming oppressively heavy. Tommy ran his shaking fingers through his hair as he struggled to go on, his injured leg causing each step to become more agonizing. Finally, he reached the area where the casino’s concrete grounds met the sandy shores, the uneven terrain proving more challenging for his progress. The soles of his shoes sank into the sand, making each step feel like a strain as if the very earth itself conspired to impede him.
For all he knew, Reena might have already vanished from the casino, fled back to the estate, gathered the kids, and left. She could be miles away by now, impossible to trace, with no clue where to start looking. Yet, against all odds, she was nowhere near that escape.
Reena was still there, a sight that struck him like a lightning bolt. She stood near a Stinger, dressed in the mesmerizing gown that made her look like stars shimmering in the night sky.
A maelstrom of emotions raged within Tommy. His wife’s arms were wrapped around someone else, a fact that squeezed his heart in a vise-like grip. It was akin to a vivid memory – the time at the estate when Claude had stumbled out drunk, and she’d rushed to him, tenderly wiping his face with her hands, a gesture filled with affection. The familiar pang of jealousy surged within him, but beneath it all, concealed no longer, was a truth he’d long sought to deny but could deny no more.
And then, this asshole, a ghost who should have never resurfaced, had his arms around Tommy’s dear wife. He gazed into her eyes with an intense yearning, a hunger that could not be quenched. His face was inches from hers, mouth slightly parted, as if he were ready to claim her lips.
Claude Speed. He leaned down and cupped Reena’s face, their lips melding in a passionate kiss.
It was as if life had suddenly come to an end. Tommy felt his shoulders slump, the fierce anger he’d carried earlier now sapping the strength from his entire body. His head throbbed, his chest felt as though it had caved in, and the clarity of thought he’d clung to had utterly dissipated, leaving him in a fog of despair and heartache.
Darkness. It was all he could see, the same unsettling darkness that had clouded his vision that very night in Harwood.
His hand moved almost instinctively, snatching the pistol from his waistband. “Get the fuck away from my wife!” Tommy cried out, his waning hand leveling the weapon, pointing it directly at Claude.
Reena trembled when she heard his voice. As she spun around and found him, her eyes glistening in tears, she raised her hands forward as if trying to stop his actions. Reena let out a scream, her voice so strained and unrecognizable that even Tommy couldn’t place it.
“No, please! Don’t hurt him, Tommy, please!”
She kept on begging, her words pouring forth in a torrent. She positioned herself in front of Claude, standing as a shield, prepared to protect him should Tommy decide to pull the trigger.
A dreadful uncertainty snagged Tommy’s reason, unsure if he could restrain his finger from squeezing the trigger. If Reena were to step aside even slightly, he knew he’d seize the opportunity to end the man he once considered a friend.
Claude Speed should never have returned. He should never have come at all. He should never have been released from prison.
He should have died long ago.
Staring at Claude with a fierce determination that Claude matched with equal contempt, Tommy took a stride forward. “I said, get away from my wife!” he shouted once more.
Reena’s desperate pleas fell silent. Tommy looked at her, and her eyes, once brimming with desperation, turned vacant. The anguish that had consumed her was abruptly replaced by something vile… something despicable. Her face, which was once filled with sorrow, turned into an expression of incomprehensible incertitude. Her loving gaze became wrathful, teeming with unmistakable reproach.
In a swift, almost imperceptible motion, she moved from Claude to him, her hands flashing toward his face. Reena slapped him three times in a row, the sharp stings of her palm against his skin undeniable. It wasn’t aching, but it was stunning, leaving Tommy’s mind blank for a millisecond before he was able to look at her again. The physical pain from the slaps barely registered, but what truly devastated him was the way her eyes gored every fiber of his being, a glare laden with condemnation.
“You knew?!” Reena cried out, her indignation overflowing. “You fucking knew?!”
Tommy’s arm grew weak, the pistol slipping from his grasp. “Reena, I–”
A forceful slap sent his face sharply to the side, and although he was already numb, he felt the pang intensely. Perhaps it was because this one was more powerful than the first three, or maybe it was the crushing realization that things would never return to how they were, making the blow feel raw and excruciating.
“How could you do this to me?!” Tears streamed ruthlessly from her eyes. “Why did you lie to me?! Why?!”
“No, Reena, no, I–” Tommy stammered, attempting to defend himself, but any words that might have emerged were implausible, lost in the frenzy of emotions. He reached out for her, but she resisted fiercely, striking him hard on the chest and clawing at his face.
“Don’t touch me!”
“Stop… stop, please…” he pleaded, his fingers closing around her wrists, reluctant to hold her firmly, but knowing he had to.
“Let me go!”
“You can’t go, you can’t go… You’re going to confuse our kids–”
“How dare you say that bullshit to me!”
All Tommy could do was restrain her thrashing arms. Her actions warranted no anger nor backlash, but instead, he felt an insurmountable grief. He attempted to embrace her, trying to stop her from hurting herself while he didn’t mind if she ever did scratch his face.
“I said fucking let me go!”
She delivered a vicious kick to his crotch, sending a searing wave of pain through his body. Reena pushed him forcefully to the ground, and she tugged her wrists until they slipped from his grip.
“Reena!” Tommy cried out, pleading for her to return, but she sprinted toward Claude, dragging him along toward the Stinger.
“We have to get them!” Tommy heard her say while he twisted and groaned in pain.
The engine of the Stinger roared to life, and the tires sent plumes of sand into the air as the car sped away from the parking lot. It vanished into the distance, leaving Tommy on the ground, wracked with discomfort, weakened and defeated. He attempted to push himself up, clutching his aching crotch, his knees trembling as he sank back into the ground. His eyes darted in the direction of the building, where he saw Marcus sprinting toward him.
But then, someone else caught his attention.
Ken Rosenberg was there, hands on his stomach, cackling incessantly as if watching a comedy show. Tommy realized he’d been there the whole time, witnessing everything, seeing him crumble before Reena and all that followed.
This was what he wanted to happen… what he wanted to see.
It was as if all the pain Tommy had in his body vanished, turning into an inexplicable fury.
“Ken!” he hollered, rising from the ground. “You fucking asshole!”
The lawyer’s snarky expression morphed into instant fear as he spun around, attempting to flee, but Tommy leaped forward, seizing Ken’s suit and wrenching him down. Without a second thought, he unleashed a fist that collided with Ken’s face, hitting his jaw and shattering his glasses in a burst of sharp, crystalline shards. Desperately trying to shield himself, the lawyer raised his hands, but Tommy’s hits were relentless. Each punch found its mark on different parts of Ken’s face, causing the swollen bruises to burst into nicks and cuts that oozed blood. The blows were so forceful that a molar was dislodged from the lawyer’s mouth, emerging coated in a grim mixture of viscous blood and drool.
“You!” Tommy roared as he gripped Ken’s shirt, shoving his sternum forcefully into the ground. “You fucking shit bastard! You planned all of this!”
Tommy clutched Ken’s neck, his fingers tightening around the lawyer’s throat. Ken gasped for breath, his face turning from red to purple, and almost to black as he struggled for air.
Was it the important thing to do now? Kill Ken Rosenberg?
Tommy considered tightening his grip, but it was all too late. It took all his strength to release the lawyer. Ken Rosenberg gulped for air, rolling to his side while clutching his neck. He coughed and wheezed, choking on his own breath.
His Reena already knew the truth, and no matter what, Tommy could no longer shield her from it.
Tommy clutched his own hair in desperation, tears welling in his eyes. Where had they gone? He scanned his surroundings, but all he saw were raindrops falling from the sky. As Marcus approached, Tommy walked away from Ken Rosenberg, leaving the lawyer lying on the ground with a bleeding face. He bent down to retrieve the pistol he had dropped, tucking it back into his waistband.
Just as he was about to leave, he heard Ken’s laughter echoing in his ears.
The lawyer lay sprawled on the earth, his arms outstretched and seemingly unable to move. Yet, despite his breathlessness, he was laughing, each hoarse chuckle sending a jolt through Tommy’s already frazzled nerves.
“I can’t believe she’s done with you…”
“Shut up…” he retorted. “You fucking shut up!”
“Reena will never choose you!” Ken bellowed, adding salt to the injury. “You know she never will!” Ken perched up as if nothing happened, his snarky face sending shivers down Tommy’s spine. “That’s what you get for leaving a friend behind, Tommy Vercetti, and for taking a wife and a child that aren’t yours!”
Weren’t they his?
They are, aren’t they?
Tommy’s mind blacked out, and soon, he found himself sprinting toward the other side of the parking lot. The dull ache in his injured leg came crashing back, spreading through his limbs in a torturous way, but Tommy couldn’t give a fuck.
Y-You’d be alone, Tommy. Dem girl will leave you!
Poulet’s words replayed in his mind, and it felt as though her curse had become a reality. He was losing his children. He was losing his family. He was losing the only woman he had ever loved.
Was this the price he had to pay?
But Tommy wasn’t willing to settle the debt.
Chapter 99: Runaway
Chapter Text
THE THUNDER RUMBLED ominously as the rain started to fall in heavy sheets. Reena’s heart pounded in her chest, matching the rhythm of the storm. The world around them was cast in shades of gray, obscuring her vision that had long been shrouded from the truth.
Claude’s gaze met hers, and at that moment, she saw a reflection of her own uncertainty.
They parked the car by the roadside, a safe distance from the imposing gates of the estate. The once-familiar sight now filled her with dread, and the rain seemed to intensify as if the heavens themselves were weeping.
As the raindrops splattered against the windshield, Reena couldn’t help but wonder if coming here was a mistake. She had so many questions, so much anger and hurt, and yet, she couldn’t turn back now. There was too much at stake, too many secrets that needed to be uncovered. With a deep breath, she turned to Claude, her lips quivering as she forced herself to speak.
“Stay here,” she said. “I-I’ll get them…”
He watched in silence as she stepped out of the car, the rain soaking her dress. With each faltering stride she took toward the estate, memories from the past rushed through her mind like vivid flashes, each one intensifying the ache in her heart.
She remembered the first time she’d set foot in this place, nervous but hopeful, her heart pounding with life. The estate stood before her, a looming shadow of the life she thought they’d built, and Reena couldn’t help but wonder if she could ever find her way back from this.
The man who took down her defenses and reminded her of what she’d been missing when she chose to shut herself off from the world… The man who stood unwaveringly by her side, providing safety and support for her and her son without expecting anything in return… The man who refused to abandon her when she withdrew from everyone and everything, even when she pushed him away…. The man who loved her, flaws and all, and helped her heal was the same man who had betrayed her heart and soul.
It all fell into place. His persistent denials regarding Claude. The mysterious trips to Liberty City. The concealed phone and deleted voicemails. Even the enigmatic letter and that envelope she never got the chance to see again. Reena now understood the source of 8-Ball’s palpable animosity toward Tommy and his actions, and Maria’s unintentional remarks about celebrating Cleo’s birthday in prison.
Was that where her Claude was, in jail? Alone, lonely, and miserable, unlike how she’d been all these years?
Everything she’d previously brushed off or ignored now made horrifying sense.
Tommy. He lied to her. Everything they made and had together was a lie.
All that remained for her to feel was the profound pain of his deceit. Stupid. That’s what Ken Rosenberg had accused her of being. Vulnerable to deception. Unaware of the truth. Gullible and foolish.
He was right. He couldn’t be more right.
Her Claude wasn’t dead. He had been kept from her by the very man she’d trusted her life and heart with.
Regret gnawed at her heart, tearing through her like a relentless storm. She berated herself for leaving Angel Pine, and for making the fateful choice to come with Tommy to Vice City.
The despondency to reunite with her children consumed her, propelling her forward with each heavy step as she approached the estate. The place she had once called home was now revealed as a sinister prison – a fortress built on dishonesty.
I have to get them.
She couldn’t be sure if Tommy had already alerted his men, particularly Leigh, but she refused to be deterred. Who were they to stand in the way of a mother desperate to be with her children? The men stationed at the gates watched her approach with wide-eyed astonishment, their expressions akin to seeing a ghost from the past. It appeared that they hadn’t yet realized she’d managed to escape. Reena had climbed over the fence at the rear of the estate, slipping into their neighbor’s yard without being detected, the torn slit of her dress proof of her ordeal.
Slowly, one of them made his way to the entrance, fumbling with the heavy bolt before finally unlocking it. The steel gates groaned loudly as they swung open. Reena regarded each of the men with a skeptical gaze, well aware that trust was a luxury she couldn’t afford.
Every second mattered. She marched past the men as quickly as her legs would allow, each step laden with tension. Not once did she pause, her eyes avoiding any interaction with the people she passed. When she reached the nursery, her heart raced even faster. She found her children peacefully asleep. Without uttering a word, she lifted Tamia from her crib and gently woke Cleo. The drowsy boy stirred, and she helped him up from his bed.
Mrs. Hubbard, who had been sleeping in a nearby chair, jolted awake, her expression filled with confusion as her eyes scanned Reena from head to toe, seeing her soaking wet dress. “Dear, what’s going on?” she asked.
“We’re leaving…”
“What?! B-But… it’s raining!”
Reena carefully wrapped Tamia in a thick blanket, making sure she was warm and snug. then helped Cleo into a jacket. Mrs. Hubbard, her voice laden with lethargy and uncertainty, bombarded her with questions, but Reena could barely make out any of them. She was focused on ensuring her children were protected from the cold.
With Tamia in one arm and Cleo in the other, their combined weight felt like an unbearable burden. Yet, she was willing to endure any suffering as long as they could get out of this wretched place.
Mrs. Hubbard trailed behind, persistently calling out to her. Reena, however, chose to ignore the elderly woman’s pleas. There was no time for explanations. As much as the old woman felt like the mother she’d never had, Reena knew that if Mrs. Hubbard managed to stop her, it would be at the cost of her children’s safety, and that was a risk she couldn’t afford to take.
“Reena, wait!” Mrs. Hubbard begged, her screams mingling with the rumbling thunder. “Where are you going?!”
The rain was ruthless, but Reena paid no heed to it. She ran through the downpour with her children in her arms. They might get cold, they might even fall ill, but the thought of staying any longer in that hellhole was far worse than worrying about what lay ahead.
Tommy could never lay a finger on her or her children again.
“Reena! Wait for me!” Mrs. Hubbard rushed to her side, panting as she sprinted while holding an umbrella over their heads.
As much as she was touched by her gestures, Reena didn’t slow down. She shook her head, wishing that Mrs. Hubbard would just leave them alone. “Sorry, but we have to go–”
“Will you please just tell me what’s going on?!”
The driveway never felt so long. The men glared at her as she reached the threshold, but unlike before when she entered unchallenged, they now appeared to stand in her way.
“Miss Reena! Stop! Boss is on the way!”
She glanced over her shoulder, spotting Leigh running after them. “I don’t care!” she shouted back.
“You don’t understand! You have to come back!”
Not a fucking chance. Some of the men from the gates started to advance, but if she needed to push herself through, she would. “Don’t you dare get near us!” she screamed, clutching her children tightly.
“Get out of the way!” Leigh ordered, much to her surprise.
Reena seized the opportunity and bolted out of the estate. Rain poured down relentlessly, transforming the road into a watery maze of puddles and rivulets. Each step was a splash, and the cold, drenching rain saturated their clothes.
From the car, Claude emerged, raindrops trickling down his face like tiny crystal tears. The moment their eyes locked, he sprang forward through the deluge, arms outstretched to help her. His eyes held a mixture of relief and concern, raindrops glistening on his face as he closed the distance between them.
Reena’s heart raced. She handed Tamia to Mrs. Hubbard, and in a swift motion, she clung to Claude, holding him tightly as if afraid he might vanish in the rain. The cold rainwater dripped down their faces as they embraced, and for that fleeting moment, the world around her seemed to disappear.
She passed Cleo to Claude, transferring the weight from her tired arms to his sturdy shoulders. As Claude cradled their son, his eyes seemed to be filled with a yearning. The boy gazed back at Claude, his tiny hand reaching out to touch his father’s face.
Though Cleo had never seen him before, there was a spark of recognition in his innocent eyes, a silent acknowledgment that this man was someone special, someone he could trust.
“Cleo,” Reena whispered, her breath shivering. “Baby, it’s Papa…”
“Papa?”
Claude’s face transformed into pure delight as Cleo uttered his first words. He pressed a tender kiss to the boy’s head, enveloping him in an embrace. Reena’s heart swelled with a bittersweet mixture of joy and sorrow. She bit her lip, her emotions swirling as she watched her son and his father finally reunite.
And then, she glanced at Tamia.
What about her daughter now? She couldn’t leave her back there, could she?
Reena turned her gaze back to Claude, and her heart skipped a beat as she saw him staring at her and Tamia. She hadn’t expected him to fully accept or even comprehend the situation, but when he nodded gently, his eyes moving between her and her baby, Reena felt as if a thorn had been plucked from her throat.
Leigh’s voice pierced through the rain, and Reena turned to see him running toward them.
Despite the pain of interrupting the moment, she motioned for Claude to join her in the car. He carefully placed Cleo in the backseat, while Mrs. Hubbard and Tamia settled inside. Reena and Claude moved to the front seats, and after ensuring everyone was securely buckled up, Claude ignited the engine.
The car roared to life, its powerful rumble echoing in Reena’s ears, drowning out the sound of the pouring rain. The windshield quickly became a canvas of large, cascading water droplets, making it challenging to see the road ahead. The headlights cut through the rain, creating a shimmering veil of water in their path. The car’s tires splashed through puddles, sending sprays of water in all directions, and the wipers worked tirelessly to clear the rain from the glass, but the downpour showed no mercy.
Reena clutched the edges of her seat, her knuckles turning white. Claude’s grip on the steering wheel was firm and determined as he navigated through the deluge, his focus unwavering. They were racing against the storm, each passing moment fraught with tension and uncertainty.
“What’s going on? And who’s he?” Mrs. Hubbard’s voice rose, and Tamia began to fuss in her arms.
Reena glanced at her through the rearview mirror. “I’ll explain later, Mrs. Hubbard–”
“Look at your kids!” she scolded. “They’re wet and cold!”
“Mrs. Hubbard, I’m sorry...”
“I don’t know what’s going on with you and Mr. Vercetti. But whatever caused you to act this way, you should think of them first–”
The side view mirror shattered in a sudden deafening strike, startling them all. A second blast sent Reena jerking in her seat as the mirror on her side exploded. The roar of engines grew louder than the pouring rain, and a couple of cars raced toward them, accelerating with frightening speed. Headlights shone like the beast’s eyes as the vehicles executed a sharp turn, tires screeching against the damp highway, hurtling back in their direction.
Claude slammed on the brakes, bringing their car to an abrupt stop in the center of the road. In the back, Mrs. Hubbard gasped and instinctively shielded the two children, causing Cleo to let out a terrified scream and Tamia to cry even louder. Reena gazed ahead, her eyes fixed on the opening doors of the vehicles that had blocked their path.
Tommy emerged from the middle car, pistol in hand, and he aimed the weapon at their vehicle. Despite the rain muffling most sounds, she could hear his furious shout clearly through the downpour.
“Speed! Get out of that fucking damn car!”
Claude’s breath quickened. When she noticed him beginning to unbuckle his seatbelt, she clasped his arm firmly.
“No, he’s going to hurt you!”
But he flung the door open as if he hadn’t heard her. Claude got out. In a panic, Reena removed her seatbelt too, and despite Mrs. Hubbard’s attempts to convince her to stay, she got out as well.
Tommy gripped the gun steadfastly. More cars arrived, stopping not too far from their rear. Tommy’s men, including Marcus, drew their weapons, all of them pointing at Claude. Fearing that they’d open fire at any moment, Reena sprinted to his side and stood in front of him, her fear almost suffocating.
“Tell them to put the guns down!” she screamed, her voice trembling.
“I’ll tell them once you get the fuck back to the estate!” Tommy retorted, his anger palpable.
Her chest felt like bursting. “You can’t stop us from leaving!”
The frown on Tommy’s face deepened. “Do you think I’d let you take my children?!”
Reena shook her head, unable to believe what he’d just said. “No… Cleo’s not yours, Tommy–”
“He is! And Tamia! And you!” Tommy pointed the gun upward and fired, the gunshot exploding in the void. Cleo shrieked, and Tamia wailed from the car.
“Stop it!” she rebuked. “You’re scaring them!”
“Take them back to the estate, Reena!” Tommy fired once more, and the children’s sobs and squeals grew even louder, their fear escalating to a heart-wrenching crescendo.
Leigh and Mike rushed to their aid, providing some cover from the pouring rain. Mike held up an umbrella, shielding Cleo and Tamia from the downpour, while Leigh carefully reached into the backseat of the car.
Her little boy was screaming, and her baby was sobbing uncontrollably in Mrs. Hubbard’s arms. They extracted the children from the vehicle, Cleo first and then Mrs. Hubbard and Tamia. Mrs. Hubbard seemed to resist, her eyes locked onto Reena for a brief moment before she reluctantly followed Leigh and Mike toward the van.
“Mama!” Cleo’s voice echoed in the rain-soaked air, a desperate plea for her presence. Reena’s heart ached at his cry, her instincts urging her to rush to his side. But she couldn’t abandon Claude. She knew her children would be safe with Leigh and Mike, but Claude, outnumbered and vulnerable, needed her.
Her waning fingers locked onto Claude’s calloused hand, refusing to let go. “Tommy, stop this, please…”
The rumble of thunder echoed ominously in the darkened sky, a stark contrast to the streak of lightning that briefly illuminated the distance.
“Leave, Speed…” Tommy demanded as if he hadn’t heard anything that Reena said. His gun remained pointed at Claude as he advanced, his ultimatum hanging heavy in the air.
“No!” Reena refused to relent, pressing herself even closer to Claude.
“Get back to the estate,” Tommy ordered, staring at her. His voice, though soft, carried a menacing undertone as he issued his final warning. “Because if you don’t, you’ll never see the kids again…”
Her heart pounded in her chest as she contemplated the impossible choice before her. Tears streamed down her cheeks, obscuring her vision as she turned around. “Please, don’t let them take me... I’m begging you…”
Claude remained tense, his gaze locked onto Tommy with a burning intensity. He blinked and then lowered his head, leaning in close to Reena’s ear. “Go back, Reena,” he whispered in a hushed, resolute tone.
He couldn’t leave her again, not after he’d returned to her life. Not after she was able to touch him and feel him again.
It was a nightmare. A life without her Claude was a nightmare.
“Please, don’t leave me…”
“I’ll come back for you…”
“Bet you would,” Tommy interjected, jerking the gun in his hold. “I’m giving you ten seconds to leave. Never go back. Leave Vice City, and we’re good.”
Claude’s veins stood out. “We’ll never be good–”
“I know. Leave.”
Claude cupped her cheeks, his touch soothing her aching heart. Then, as if it took all the strength he had, Claude let her go.
“No, please… please!”
Reena desperately clung to his hands, but they slipped through her grasp as he made his way back inside the car. She tried to stop him, slamming her hand on the window, pulling the handle hard, but he paid no attention. From outside, she watched him twist the key and shift the gear, and the car began to move slowly.
“Claude! Don’t leave me, please!”
She sprinted after him, her vision blurred by the torrent. Each step felt like an eternity as her feet sloshed through puddles, sending cold water splashing against her shins. Her breaths came in frantic gasps, and the desperate pounding of her heart drowned out the sound of the rain. Reena’s outstretched hand grasped at the empty air as Claude’s car gained distance, its taillights fading into the downpour.
He couldn’t leave her again. Not again…
A massive arm coiled around her waist, immobilizing her with shocking speed. She writhed and twisted, her fingers slipping on the slick, rain-soaked yet familiar forearm that held her in an unyielding grip. The wet fabric of her clothes clung uncomfortably to her skin as she fought against the strength that confined her, but it was a futile battle.
“Stop it, Reena!” Tommy’s voice rang out from behind, punctuating the tension with urgency. He grunted as he wrestled with her, pulling her forcibly toward his car. “Let’s go home…”
“Get your hands off me!”
“I said stop it!”
Tommy’s strength overpowered her as he lifted her effortlessly, draping her body over his shoulder. Reena thrashed her arms and legs, her efforts in vain as she was turned upside down. Her struggles continued to be futile against Tommy, leaving her with no option but to be unceremoniously shoved into the backseat of the car. He pressed her down firmly, his weight pinning her in place as she wriggled and kicked, desperate to break free from his restraint. Marcus took the wheel, and despite her best efforts to resist, Reena found herself trapped, unable to move an inch.
“Calm down, we’re going home,” Tommy muttered close to her face.
Reena’s sobs and pleas echoed through the car, her spirit broken, her hopes dashed. She felt defeated, her trust crushed, and as she was taken back to the estate, it became painfully clear how her life had taken a darker turn.
The fairytale she once believed in had morphed into a haunting dream, all in the arms of the man she thought had loved her truly.
Chapter 100: Foolish Heart
Chapter Text
TOMMY HEIGHTENED THE security around the estate to an unprecedented level. His gang members spread out in Starfish Island and the nearby locations, alerted to report any suspicious men or vehicles lurking by. Marcus and the others constantly scanned their surroundings, vigilantly searching for any sign of his former friend coming back.
Fortunately, their efforts had yielded nothing thus far, somehow giving him respite. For now, there was nothing to do but just to exercise even greater caution.
After all, he had something more pressing to focus on.
Tommy found himself unable to approach his wife even once for three consecutive days. Every time he entered their bedroom, Reena would unleash the most piercing screams, almost as if her throat was being torn apart. She’d hurl objects in his direction, whatever she could grab, no matter what just to keep him at bay. But the most heartbreaking of all was the kind of cries she’d let out, tears uncontrollably streaming down her face at the mere sight of him, making Tommy feel as if he were a nightmare of hers that came to life.
Her fever had not gone down since the night he brought her back home, consuming her miserably. Despite trying to nurse her back to health, she steadfastly rebuffed any attempts at closeness, maintaining an impenetrable emotional and physical distance between them.
Tommy was almost reaching a breaking point.
With Asuka Kasen by his side, he stood in front of their bedroom, his chest rising and falling with each heavy breath. They both stared intently at the wooden door that served as a barrier between him and Reena.
“Do you think it is a good idea that we speak to her?” she asked.
“She needs to hear someone else’s voice,” Tommy replied. “She won’t listen to me.”
Reluctantly, he inserted the key into the hole, turning it to unlock the door from the outside. In the corner of his eye, he noticed Asuka’s furrowed brow. Tommy pushed the door open, allowing the hallway light to spill into the dim room. He stepped aside to make way for Asuka.
As they entered, they were met with the sight of Reena. She lay on the bed, curled into a fetal position, facing away from them.
Tommy gave Asuka a curt nod, and in response, she discreetly cleared her throat.
“Reena, it’s me,” Asuka said gently as she sat on the edge of the bed.
With a gradual, hesitant movement, Reena shifted, turning to glance over her shoulder. When she saw Asuka, she abruptly sat up, scooting closer to her friend. Reena clung to Asuka’s neck, her tears flowing freely, as if they’d been waiting to fall.
“Help me, please–” Reena’s plea trailed off the moment she caught sight of Tommy standing in the doorway. The shadows beneath her eyes had deepened, and her gaze remained fixed on him as she slowly retreated, letting go of Asuka.
Asuka, seemingly alarmed by Reena’s reaction, tried to reach out to her once more. “Reena, calm down–”
“What’s he doing here?!”
“He brought me here to see you.”
Tommy gazed at his wife. The smudges of dried tears that clung to her face had been replaced by fresh, glistening tracks that flowed from her eyes. “You mean to do this?” she rebuked, her glare sharp yet laced with fear.
“What do you mean by that?” Tommy asked, his voice trembling with concern.
“Keep me in this room like your prisoner?” Her voice broke, faltering into an unstable pitch.
“Damn it,” Tommy muttered, his resolve waning. He couldn’t bear to stay away any longer. He stepped forward and approached the bed, but Reena instinctively leaped out of the mattress and pushed herself further into the corner.
“Don’t come near me!” she screamed.
“Just listen to me first,” he pleaded, his voice cracking. Despite his efforts to maintain composure, something began to obscure his eyes.
A bitter chuckle escaped her lips, a chuckle dripping with disdain and heartbreak. “I listened to you all this time, and you did this shit to me!”
“Speed wanted you to think he’s gone,” Tommy tried explaining.
“You’re a liar! Isn’t it enough you fooled me?”
“It was his choice…”
“His choice to what? To just disappear? To abandon me and Cleo?!” Reena’s voice quivered.
“You knew nothing–”
“Oh, yes, Tommy, finally you said it!” Reena exclaimed, throwing her hands in the air. “I knew nothing! And I was so stupid, so stupid to believe you!”
“We all knew about it, Reena,” Asuka interjected, her voice almost reluctant. “Claude made Tommy promise that he’d never tell you anything, even 8-Ball, and they stuck to their word.”
“And you?!” Reena’s breath caught in a brief, gasping whimper.
“I’m sorry,” Asuka murmured, her eyes low. “But Tommy only did what he thought was best for you.”
Reena’s mouth hung open, her jaw shaking in disbelief. She raised her arm and pointed a trembling finger toward the door. “I don’t wanna see you... Any of you…”
“Claude told us not to–”
“Get out!”
Asuka braced, lowered her head, and wiped a tear from her cheek. She nodded and turned away, heading for the door. “I’ll wait outside, Tommy.” With that, she exited the room and shut the door behind her.
As soon as Asuka disappeared, Tommy approached his wife once more, desperation gripping his heart, ready to drop to his knees and beg. Reena clenched her fists as if she wanted to strike him, but Tommy kept moving, willing to welcome any physical release of her frustration if it meant she might forgive him.
“Stay away from me…” she pleaded.
Reena fought back fiercely, thrashing her arms and legs as if warding off an attacker. At one point, he felt her hit him, but the dull ache didn’t matter. She could hit him multiple times if she wished to.
Tommy gathered every ounce of strength he had left and scooped up Reena in his arms. She screamed at him, begging to be let go, but he held her body firmly and gently pinned her down on the bed.
“Baby, calm down please–”
Her cries were ear-shattering. Tommy wrapped his arms around her tightly, his embrace shifting into a restraining grip, determined to protect her from hurting herself. Her skin still radiated an unusual warmth, and her clothes were drenched in sweat. Reena fought with all her might, but gradually, her resistance waned, and she surrendered herself to his unwavering, firm hold.
“All of you,” she whimpered, her voice filled with heartbreak. “You took him away from me...”
“I did it because I love you–”
“No!” She kicked against the bed, her determination to break free evident, but Tommy’s grasp remained unyielding. “You don’t love me!”
Every word she uttered pierced Tommy’s heart, but his embrace never faltered. He cradled her in his arms, gently rocking her in an attempt to soothe her pain. The woman he loved, his own wife, now harbored more resentment toward him than anyone else. In her eyes, he was nothing but a liar, a selfish deceiver who had betrayed her trust. It was true. He had lied, and yes, he had acted selfishly. But every choice he made, every deception, had been for her... solely for her.
Tommy refused to let this be the downfall of his life. If he had to hold his wife even as she lashed out, he would. If his every touch made her flinch, he’d endure it. If she needed to cry out a torrent of hurtful words, he’d willingly accept them. All he wanted was for her to stay with him, to remain by his side, and to never leave him.
It took time for Reena to fully subside, and the weight of exhaustion seemed to crash upon her all at once. She lay weakly in Tommy’s arms, her breathing slowing as she closed her eyes, though her expression had no sense of peace. Tommy brushed his fingers across her face, carefully freeing the strands of unkempt hair that clung to her damp skin, and wiped away the glistening beads of sweat on her forehead. She groaned softly, but the violent flailing had ceased, or perhaps, she lacked the strength to continue. Tommy planted a tender kiss on her forehead, nuzzled his nose into her hair for a moment, and then, with great care, he laid her down on the mattress, ensuring her head was cushioned by a soft pillow.
When he came out, Asuka was still standing outside the bedroom. Tommy motioned for her to follow him. Together, they walked down the hallway and entered his office. He gestured toward the couch, urging her to take a seat, but Asuka remained standing.
“What do you plan now?” she asked.
“We’re still leaving. Everything’s been settled,” Tommy stated firmly.
Asuka raised an eyebrow, her concern evident. “Will she come with you? You can’t take her to the airport with her acting that way.”
“I know,” he responded, running his fingers through his disheveled hair. “Do you think 8-Ball can come?”
Asuka squinted. “Here?”
Tommy nodded. “We have to try. He’s a part of this too. Maybe she’d listen to him.”
Asuka pursed her lips, deep in contemplation. “I will try, but I can’t promise you he’ll agree.” She glanced in the direction of the nursery. “How are the kids?”
Tommy swept a hand over his face, feeling every bit of exhaustion that had gathered for far too long. “They’re fine. They keep asking for her, but Mrs. Hubbard’s looking after them.”
“Ken Rosenberg, we couldn’t find him in the parking lot where you said you left him, but there were traces of blood. My men scoured a part of Vice Point where he was reported to be, but so far, they’ve found nothing.”
“And Speed?”
Asuka shook her head, her expression grim. “Not a sign of him.”
Tommy released a heavy sigh. “As long as he doesn’t learn we’re leaving. He swore to Reena he’d be back.”
“You know when he said he would, he would.”
“I’m aware of that.”
Asuka straightened, her gaze steady. “I must go now, Tommy. Please, be gentle with my friend. She’s already hurt enough. I’ve seen her like this before. Don’t be cruel to her.”
“I love my wife. You don’t need to remind me what I gotta do,” Tommy replied.
Asuka briefly sighed; her expression etched with palpable concern. “I know your intentions are well-founded, that’s why I’m on your side. But, Tommy, you have to recognize when it’s time to let go. I trust you to make that judgment.”
With those words, Asuka turned and walked away. From the balcony, Tommy watched her as she disappeared. And once more, the pounding in Tommy’s chest grew louder, a reminder that he was now alone to face the consequences of his actions.
Tommy found himself drawn toward the nursery. Beside the window, Mrs. Hubbard was swaying Tamia in her arms. Near the crib, Cleo sat in a small chair, his little tongue sticking out with a diligent expression, busily coloring the book Earnest Kelly had given him. The pages he was working on featured a star and a heart.
When Mrs. Hubbard looked in his way, she seemed to force a smile.
Tommy welcomed himself into the room, his gaze fixed on his daughter. “Can I hold her?”
“Of course, Mr. Vercetti.”
Mrs. Hubbard transferred Tamia into his hold. She felt feather-light against his chest, a very delicate being. Her eyelids drooped, heavy with drowsiness, yet every now and then, she’d coo softly. Tommy used his fingers to cradle his daughter’s tiny cheek, tracing the faint freckles she’d gotten from her mother.
The old woman, as far as Tommy knew, had always kept her distance from their personal matters. She never commented on anything transpiring within the household. She had never been one to meddle, yet, at this moment, Tommy found himself inexplicably curious about her thoughts. He wondered how she perceived him and his actions. It might not matter, but the desire to understand how others saw him tugged at him nonetheless.
“Am I a bad person, Mrs. Hubbard?” he faintly asked.
As expected, the question seemed to catch her off-guard. Mrs. Hubbard stood with her hands clasped over her chest, fiddling with her fingers, much like Reena did whenever she was nervous. She pursed her lips, her brow furrowing slightly, and then, she raised her eyes to meet Tommy’s gaze.
“Tell me, Mr. Vercetti. Do you ever think of yourself as a bad person?”
Tommy held Tamia a little higher, embracing her close as he planted a loving kiss on her head. Just like her mother, her hair carried the delicate scent, a fragrance that undeniably soothed his frayed nerves.
“I do, and I am,” he admitted, unable to hide his embarrassment. “But I have my reasons.”
Mrs. Hubbard’s features softened. “I can’t speak for Reena if that’s what you want to know,” she began, her voice measured and thoughtful, “but as your children’s companion, I can’t help but see how these things will eventually take a toll on them. You can take my advice with a grain of salt, but remember, you can’t correct a mistake with another mistake.”
Tommy walked over to the cot and lowered his daughter onto her bed. The baby hadn’t stirred or fussed at all. He stared at her for a moment, taking in the peaceful sight, before he made his way and sat beside Cleo. The young boy chattered away, his words a jumble of innocence that didn’t quite make sense. Tommy simply smiled, his heart warmed by the affectionate gesture, and ran his hand over the tousled hair of the young boy.
“Is it wrong… that I love her?”
Mrs. Hubbard bowed her head down. “To love someone’s never wrong. What’s wrong is claiming that you do things for love, even if you’re already hurting the person you cared for the most.”
Cleo’s small hand moved the black crayon across the paper, creating thick, zigzag strokes that shaded the heart with dark, looming spikes. Tommy sat there, silently observing as his son filled the shape with a color it was never meant to possess.
Somehow, he found a reflection of himself. Menacing. Corrupted. Touched by darkness.
“Mr. Vercetti,” Mrs. Hubbard called out, urging Tommy to look up. “If you love Reena, you have to listen to her. I know… it hurts to hear her scream. I hear her too. But maybe, that’s all you need to know–”
“Papa!” Cleo suddenly blurted out, catching Tommy’s attention. As he turned, Tommy saw the boy grab the sheet and tear the page off the book.
Mrs. Hubbard gasped, but it was too late. Even Tommy lacked the strength to stop his son from ripping it from the book.
The little boy held out the torn page. “Here, Papa!”
Tommy reluctantly accepted the paper. The image on the sheet seemed to glare at him as if he were peering into a mirror. Like the paper itself, his heart felt torn, ripped from the very roots that had held it together. He felt his hand involuntarily crumple the paper, but just before it was crushed, he noticed something on the back. Turning it over, he found a drawing of stick figures – no arms or legs, just random circles and lines. Two large, irregular round shapes were paired with a couple of smaller ones, lined up side by side.
“Papa, Mama, me, baby!” Cleo exclaimed in a slurred manner.
Tommy’s face churned as he examined the illustration when Mrs. Hubbard suddenly cleared her throat. “Cleo loved to draw things like that,” she chuckled as she recounted. “If you turn the pages of his big book, every single one had those drawings at the back.”
It felt like his breath hitched. “Are they what I think they are?”
Although he didn’t look at Mrs. Hubbard, Tommy knew the old woman smiled. “Yes, Mr. Vercetti. I think those are your family portraits.”
Tommy didn’t know how to respond. He wanted to say something, but the words seemed to get stuck in his throat, rendering him impossible to say anything. He just stared at the drawing, feeling an ache in his heart that couldn’t be soothed slowly ebb away. Indeed, he could see himself, the one with a bigger head at the left. Beside him was a figure who resembled Reena, then Cleo himself, and Tamia.
A complete family picture. A complete family. His very own family.
Mrs. Hubbard suddenly cleared her throat, taking him out of his musings. His head snapped up, his eyes meeting her concerned gaze. “I’ll go to the kitchen, Mr. Vercetti. I’ll be back in a minute if that’s okay?”
A nod was all he could muster in response. Mrs. Hubbard went out of the nursery, closing the door behind her, and Tommy was left alone in the company of his children. His clenched hand instinctively relaxed, releasing the paper from his grip. Then, as if he had gravitated, he turned to look at his son. Pure innocence. Unquestionable love. That was it. That was what radiated from his boy all this time. Cleo continued with his drawings, utterly absorbed in his own little world, unaware of the realization that had just dawned upon Tommy. Tommy’s eyes stung, and his throat tightened, realizing he could barely stifle his emotions.
A tear escaped, falling onto the paper and smudging the black heart with his pain.
Tommy came to understand that it wasn’t just Reena he was afraid of losing. He was terrified at the mere thought of losing his son, his precious little boy. Cleo, the first soul to ever tell him that he was loved, held an irreplaceable place in his heart. Even though Cleo wasn’t his by blood, Tommy couldn’t fathom a life without him. The young boy was the radiant star in his otherwise dark sky, a constant source of light in his miserable world.
“Buddy,” he whispered as he opened his arms, “can you give me a hug?”
“Okay!”
Cleo released the crayons in his grasp, letting them tumble recklessly onto the table. In a sudden burst of excitement, he leaped to his feet, causing the plastic chair to flip over. With unbridled affection, his tiny arms wrapped tightly around Tommy’s neck.
“I love you, bud.”
The boy pressed his face against Tommy’s shoulder, and he reciprocated by wrapping his arms around Cleo, pulling him close.
Chapter 101: Relentless
Chapter Text
CLAUDE SAT IN silence, his gaze fixed on the endless expanse of Ocean Beach. Despite it being midday, an unusual chill hung in the air. The sky overhead matched the somber mood, casting a gloomy pallor over the open waters. The once-pristine waves had transformed into a restless gray, their splashes echoing along the desolate coastline. He released a heavy breath, his eyes occasionally darting to the side-view mirror as he waited.
The presence of Vercetti Gang members in Vice Point had increased dramatically. It seemed that in every establishment he passed, there were always a couple or more of them, their presence palpable and unsettling. The situation was even worse on Starfish Island, where Tommy’s men inspected every passing car, even stopping a couple that seemed suspicious. Many times, Claude thought of driving toward the estate to get a closer look at what was going on, but even before reaching the opening of the bridge, he’d spot the gang members, patiently stationed in every corner.
Reena might have believed he had abandoned her by now. It had been days since they parted, and he couldn’t shake the memory of her desperate cries for help, for him not to leave her again, haunting him with each passing moment he spent without being able to take action.
Claude thought he’d feel nothing for her anymore. Witnessing her kissing Tommy, and knowing that she had married him and had a child with him should have been reasons enough to let her go.
But why? Why did his heart race when he saw her beautiful face up close, those familiar hazel eyes? Why did his heart ache and sing when she rushed toward him? Why did his insides flutter as her arms wrapped around his body? His mind swirled in a dizzying haze of euphoria when her soft, warm lips met his. He could’ve been reproaching her for starting a new life with someone else.
Yet, for some inexplicable reason, her mere presence dismantled the walls he had built around himself.
Every single day he spent inside the walls of his solitary confinement, he thought of no one else but Reena. The sound of her voice, the beauty of her smile, and the lingering feeling of her warmth on his skin were the only ones that kept him alive back then.
Claude had accepted his fate. He thought he wouldn’t see her again. He convinced himself he could never be with her at all.
He couldn’t be more wrong.
Reena didn’t forget him after all. She was just as lost as he was, oblivious to the truth that the people around her hid from her. The things they concealed from her upon his wish…
Let her think I’m gone…
She was not to blame for any of this. If she didn’t know he was still alive and around, then…
Claude knew what to do now. He placed a hand on his chest, clutching his shirt right above his heart. He’d give back the time he took away from her, and no matter what it would bring him, even though it meant destroying everyone else around him, he would.
He sensed movement from behind the car. With his senses heightened, Claude perched on his seat, only to recognize 8-Ball stealthily approaching the passenger-side door. In a swift motion, Claude reached for the button and unlocked the door, welcoming 8-Ball into the car.
“Brother, these days have been insane! They’re hot on your trail!”
“Have you heard anything about Reena?” he asked, ignoring everything else 8-Ball mentioned.
“N-No, but Asuka left this morning. I think she went to the estate. She ain’t talking to me or Maria.” From his side, 8-Ball pulled out a compact purse and a burner phone. “I got the stuff you asked me to pick up. Do you want me to install them in the backseat?”
Claude accepted the items and stowed them into the dash compartment. “Yeah, thanks. This helps a lot.”
“Are you sure you can pull this off?”
“I don’t have much of a choice,” he replied, his gaze fixed ahead. The waves appeared to have calmed somewhat, though they continued to lap at the shore. “And is it true? Ken Rosenberg?”
“Yeah, Tommy did him bad,” 8-Ball replied, his tone laden with concern. “I heard they were also looking for him, but I got no news.” 8-Ball slid closer, his expression becoming even more somber. “Whatever you’re thinking of doing, you should hurry. They’re leaving.”
Claude’s heart clenched as he tried to comprehend 8-Ball’s words. “Leaving? Where are they going?”
“Tommy bought an estate property in Las Venturas. Even before Reena–” He paused, hesitating for a moment.
“Go on,” Claude urged. “I don’t think there’s anything that could hurt me more.” Unless Reena decided not to come with him at all.
8-Ball scratched his head, clearly conflicted. “Reena came to Liberty City once to visit us. She was already pregnant at that time. That’s when she told us they were moving.”
Claude sank in his seat, and within him, his chest imploded. “So, Tommy’s taking them far.” He let out a bitter chuckle. “Do you know when?”
Out of the blue, 8-Ball jerked in his seat, a muffled ringing noise filling the car. He fumbled for his pocket and drew out his phone, his eyes widening in astonishment before he turned to Claude.
“It’s Asuka, Brother…” 8-Ball muttered under his breath.
Raising a hand to signal silence, 8-Ball answered the phone and activated the loudspeaker. Claude sat in silence, his gaze locked onto the phone in 8-Ball’s hand. The bright green screen displayed Asuka’s name in bold, flashing letters.
“8-Ball,” she said, her voice laced with unmistakable gloom. “Can we talk?”
“Y-Yeah, what is it?” 8-Ball’s brows furrowed as he adjusted in his seat.
Asuka’s heavy sigh carried through from the other line. “I’m on my way back from Reena’s. I… I tried to speak with her, but she... she’s not listening to me.”
8-Ball threw Claude a quick look, his concern deepening. “Why? What did you tell her?”
“The truth.” Each word from Asuka seemed measured and controlled. “I told her the truth.”
Claude felt the nerves twitch in his temples. A curse almost escaped his mouth had he not gritted his teeth. He closed his eyes for a moment, then exhaled a dense breath, struggling to keep himself composed.
“What did she say?” 8-Ball pressed for more information.
“She didn’t believe us,” Asuka replied, her tone marked by a profound sense of defeat. “She accuses us of lying.”
Claude’s lips curled into a sly sneer. Luck, after endless stretches of pain, had finally taken his side. The urge to shout, to revel in the fact that Reena hadn’t given in to their persuasions, surged through him like a raging river, but he held it in check.
For Tommy, honesty might have come too late, but for Claude, this was a precious opportunity he couldn’t allow to slip through his fingers. The weight that had pressed on his chest for so long suddenly lifted, replaced by renewed hope.
8-Ball seemed to pick up on Claude’s relief. “Well, you can’t blame her for–”
“Tommy needs your help, 8-Ball.”
The audacity. But before Claude could react, 8-Ball was already shaking his head. To say his face churned was an understatement. “W-Why? Why would he need my help?”
“We need to do what’s best for her. You have to talk to Reena. Help her see reason, for Cleo and Tamia’s sake.”
Bullshit. Claude’s jaw clenched, and he struggled to contain his anger, refraining from blurting out his disdain. Claude would never move on from the betrayal of the people he trusted, but maybe, the rage he felt toward them could not be compared to what Reena might be going through right now.
“Look, Asuka, I don’t know what makes you believe—”
Claude reached out and patted 8-Ball’s shoulder. As 8-Ball turned to him, Claude subtly nodded. “Say yes,” he mouthed.
“Why?!” 8-Ball whispered aloud, almost screaming. When he realized what he’d done, 8-Ball winced and mouthed a silent “Shit”.
Claude removed his hand from 8-Ball’s shoulder, but his stare lingered. Once more, he nodded curtly, his jaw tense and clenched.
Realizing that he was serious, 8-Ball sighed heavily and cleared his throat. “O-Okay, I’ll think about it, Asuka. Talk to you later.” He promptly ended the call and slipped the phone back into his pocket. A blend of confusion and curiosity played across his face. “Brother, you know that I won’t help that asshole–”
“You’re not helping him.” Claude kept his voice low, though his heart was already rising in his throat. “You’re going to help me send my message to her.”
Time seemed to slow, and he felt a heavy weight in his chest like a leaden anchor threatening to drag him down. 8-Ball’s eyes brightened as if he grasped the meaning, and he began nodding, his attention fully focused. “What do you want me to do, Brother?”
“I need to speak with her,” Claude said. “You’ll be the way.”
Tommy wouldn’t let Reena out of his sight, that was for sure. The day they were set to move to Las Venturas was her only chance to get out of the estate. The window of opportunity they needed. He knew that they’d be under tight surveillance, especially on the day of their departure. Tommy wouldn’t take any chances, and his goons would be hovering close like vultures ready to pounce on any perceived threat, but Claude knew better.
On that day, he’d be reuniting with them.
The stakes were high, but failure was not an option.
“She has to prepare. Tell her she must convince Tommy that he can trust her. He won’t refuse. He’d give her anything she wants…”
For the plan to succeed, Claude needed her cooperation. Everything would depend on her actions in the next few days. His heart ached, contemplating the possibilities, but Claude knew it was the only way. Just one more time… one more chance, and if all went as planned, they’d escape this grim situation together.
“Tell Reena she must be ready,” he declared firmly, a steely resolve coursing through his veins. “We’re leaving Vice City.”
Claude pondered about how stupid he was to place his faith in someone he had once considered a friend, only for that person to betray him and take away the woman he loved the most. He was too stupid to wallow in self-pity, isolating himself from those he once trusted, providing them with the perfect excuse for keeping him ignorant. He was too stupid and blinded by his own justifications, actions that endangered his chances of having a life worth living.
Most of all, he was too stupid – damn stupid – to ever believe she’d forget him.
Because she never did. His Reena never did.
And he wasn’t going to fail her this time.
His determination grew stronger. He was ready to seize this opportunity, to do whatever it took to make their escape a reality. This was his chance to reunite with the family he had let go, to rewrite the mistakes he’d made in the past, and to build a future together with her and their son…
But they had to escape Tommy’s clutches first.
Chapter 102: Keep the Faith
Chapter Text
TOMMY LOOKED UTTERLY miserable. The shadows under his eyes had deepened, he had grown noticeably gaunter in just a matter of days, and 8-Ball couldn’t help but wonder if a punch from him would even faze Tommy at this point. He looked like he was in a sorry state, for lack of a better word, but 8-Ball couldn’t be bothered to give a damn.
He just needed to endure his charade until this mess was finally behind them.
Tommy stood at the gaping doors, and the grand entrance, adorned with intricate carvings and gleaming brass fixtures, provided a contrast to his disheveled appearance. His once impeccably styled hair hung in disarray, and the usually sharp lines of his suit seemed to droop along with his shoulders.
As 8-Ball approached with Asuka by his side, the distance between them and Tommy seemed to stretch into an awkward chasm.
“I appreciate you coming here, 8-Ball,” Tommy greeted, extending a hand as if oblivious or nonchalant to the underlying animosity. “Your presence means a lot to me.” His words clashed with the despondent expression on his face, creating an unsettling dissonance.
Despite 8-Ball’s disinclination and disagreement, Claude had convinced him to put on a cordial façade, a thin veneer of civility for the sake of their goal. Suppressing every ounce of his loathing, 8-Ball mustered a strained smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. He cleared his throat and smacked his lips, the performance a grating reminder of the distasteful task at hand. He reached out for Tommy’s hand, their grip firm, as Asuka stood beside him. She wore an expression of satisfaction, and a subtle nod conveyed her gratitude for his compliance.
“I wanna apologize for how I treated you in the opening.” 8-Ball forced the words out, but they weighed heavy on his tongue, like an unpleasant aftertaste that lingered from a foul meal. Deep within, discomfort gnawed at him, making the apology feel like he’d swallowed his own shit.
“That’s nothing. It’s my fault too,” Tommy replied with an amicable gesture, signaling for them to follow as they ascended the grand staircase leading to his office. Once inside, Tommy waved a hand toward the plush couch situated across from his desk. “Have a seat, please. Would you like to have a drink?” he offered graciously.
“I’d appreciate it if you could offer me a cup of tea,” Asuka responded politely, her request in contrast to the tension in the room. Then, she turned to her side. “What about you, 8-Ball?”
“I... I’m not thirsty,” 8-Ball replied curtly, trying to hide his unease.
“Very well,” Tommy acknowledged, nodding toward Marcus at the doorway. 8-Ball would never forget how Tommy’s henchman treated him with rough force in the casino, leaving a sour impression. “Please tell Mrs. Hubbard to bring tea and water,” Tommy instructed, his tone maintaining a semblance of courtesy, though the underlying jitters were unmistakable.
“Yes, Boss,” Marcus replied with a nod, casting a stoic glance at 8-Ball before turning to exit the office.
“How’s Reena?” 8-Ball inquired anxiously, his question stressed by the urgency he felt about her well-being. As he spoke, he fumbled for his phone in his pocket, striving for discretion as he adjusted the device, positioning it to capture whatever response Tommy was about to give.
“She’s been... less hysterical,” Tommy replied, his gaze dropping to the vacant tabletop. “The last time she broke down was when Asuka came here,” he continued, his words carrying a note of concern.
Poor Reena. Her suffering didn’t seem to have an end. He could never comprehend the torment she was enduring, a cruel cycle of nightmares that never stopped. Before, her grief had been agonizing as she believed Claude was already gone. Now, it was a different kind of anguish, the bitter sorrow of knowing that Claude had been around, but their reunion was thwarted by the influence of this wretched, detestable man.
“Does she see the kids?” 8-Ball probed further, unable to conceal the trembling in his voice.
“Mrs. Hubbard would bring them to her twice a day, but they don’t stay with her for too long,” Tommy explained, his words dense with a sense of helplessness. “She said Reena doesn’t even look at them. If she won’t get well by Saturday, we might cancel our flight.”
“You’re leaving this weekend?” 8-Ball inquired aloud purposely.
Tommy nodded with a sense of urgency that hung in the air like a heavy cloud. “We have to,” he affirmed. His gaze shifted to 8-Ball, a glimmer of hope in his exhausted eyes. “She didn’t listen to Asuka when she spoke to her. But maybe, to you, she would.”
Their eyes locked, and a storm of emotions swirled within 8-Ball. He ran a shaking hand over his face, breaking the tension with a long, drawn-out sigh. “What do you want me to tell her?” he asked.
“Everything she needs to know,” Tommy replied, his tone steady but earnest.
“So, you want me to tell her that we know where Claude was?” 8-Ball added.
“Yes…”
“And to tell her that it was Claude’s choice to keep his death sentence a secret from her because he doesn’t want her to worry for him anymore?”
“8-Ball,” Asuka interjected softly, her touch grazing his knuckles. “I thought we already talked about this…”
“It’s alright, Asuka,” Tommy reassured her before turning back to 8-Ball. He leaned forward, and for the first time, 8-Ball saw clearly Tommy’s eyes. There was no intimidation or menace in Tommy’s gaze but the welling of tears that was purely begging. “Yes, but please, don’t omit the fact that Speed also refused to know anything about her because he wanted her to forget him and move on,” Tommy implored. “She needs to know that it was him who wanted her to think he was gone.”
Mrs. Hubbard’s knock on the door interrupted the tense conversation. Upon Tommy’s silent gesture, she entered, slowly approaching their spot with a tray. She leaned and placed the tray on the table, briefly glancing at Asuka, then at 8-Ball. She first served Asuka a cup of tea, placing it gently before her, then proceeded to distribute the glasses of water, positioning them in front of him and Tommy.
“Miss Kasen, Mr. Hudson,” she acknowledged with a respectful nod.
8-Ball took a moment to inquire about the children’s well-being. “How are the kids, Mrs. Hubbard?”
“They’re quite fine,” she answered, her gaze flickering toward Tommy for a moment. His impassive expression didn’t betray any emotion, but it was evident he was listening intently. “Tamia’s been crying a lot lately.”
“Maybe she misses her mother,” 8-Ball mused. He then shifted his attention. “What about Cleo?”
“He’s often looking for Reena–”
“Thank you, Mrs. Hubbard. You may now leave,” Tommy interjected firmly. The elderly woman stiffened, her smile turning awkward and nervous as she nodded and exited the office. Then, the room fell into a profound silence once more.
“I believe at his age, Cleo might be sensing that something’s wrong with his mother,” Asuka expressed with tenderness. “Toddlers are very sensitive to changes in their environment, let alone to the changes in how their parents react toward them.”
Tommy’s face darkened as he reached for a glass, lifting it toward his mouth. However, he halted midway, his brow furrowing in deep contemplation. With a sigh, he set the glass back on the table. “It’s my concern too,” he admitted. “But I have to keep her in our room. I’m afraid she might hurt herself or the kids.”
“You know you can’t do this for long,” Asuka reminded him.
“I do,” Tommy conceded. “When we make it to Las Venturas, she’ll be free as she’s always been. But I can’t risk it now. And you both know why.”
He didn’t know why, but 8-Ball’s throat suddenly went parched. With urgency, he seized the glass of water, downing its contents in a single gulp. The water, oddly enough, had a bitter taste that he couldn’t quite explain. The final, large swallow proved challenging, but he managed to force it down, feeling it slide down his dry throat.
Asuka’s head was bowed, but Tommy’s eyes were fixed on him.
His throat didn’t feel so dry right now, but a massive lump began to grow.
Shit.
8-Ball exhaled a heavy sigh, wiping his mouth with his forearm, and set the now-empty glass back on the table. “Okay,” he announced as he stood and straightened his jacket, tilting his head slightly to the right. “I think I’m ready to speak with her.”
Tommy looked up at him, his face tired and weary. The moment seemed to stand still, but eventually, he stood, patting his hands on his jeans. “I’ll lead the way.”
“Will you be there?” 8-Ball asked. “I-I mean, won’t your presence set her off?”
“He’s right, Tommy,” Asuka chimed in, much to 8-Ball’s relief. “I’ve seen how she reacts when you’re around. Maybe 8-Ball can try speaking to her alone.”
Tommy’s eyes shifted between him and Asuka, clearly torn about the decision. He seemed inclined to argue but lacked the conviction he’d shown earlier. Then, after some moments, 8-Ball noticed his shoulders slump.
“I understand. I’ll stay outside. Will that be alright?”
Although 8-Ball wanted to insist that Tommy stay the fuck away from them, as far away as possible, and leave him to it, he held his tongue. “Of course,” he responded through gritted teeth, accompanied by another beam he struggled to feign.
With a weak smile, Tommy made his way toward the door. 8-Ball followed closely behind as they ventured through the hallways, which seemed to pulsate with tension and uncertainty. Near the bedroom door, 8-Ball found a one-seater couch with a blanket and a pillow, placed conspicuously. His curiosity got the best of him, and when Tommy appeared to catch his scrutiny, Tommy cleared his throat and turned to face him, waving a hand toward the seat.
“I uh… I sleep here,” Tommy explained with an awkwardness that felt out of character for him.
“To keep close to her?”
Tommy scratched his head sheepishly, the vulnerability in his demeanor starkly different from the tough exterior he usually displayed. “Yeah. Can’t stay away too far.”
You better be practicing, 8-Ball thought.
As they reached the bedroom door, Tommy stood by the front entrance and retrieved a key from his pocket. 8-Ball’s initial surge of anger threatened to overwhelm him at the thought of locking Reena inside, but he knew he had to maintain his composure and not blow his cover. The situation was far more complicated than he had anticipated.
The bolts clicked loudly as Tommy twisted the key, a sharp and definitive sound that echoed in the dim hallway. He pushed the door handle down, and with a creak, the door swung open. Tommy stepped aside, granting 8-Ball access to the room. As he walked through the threshold, Tommy threw him a cold, calculated glance, a mix of caution and vigilance.
It was massive. The first thing that caught 8-Ball’s attention was the vast window that dominated one wall. The heavy curtains were drawn slightly aside, permitting a cascade of natural light to filter into the room. Despite the brightness, however, there was an overwhelming sense of desolation that washed over him.
Picture frames lined the surface, one after the other, each holding a memory or a fragment of the past. There was also a subtle scent carried on in the room, a delicate aroma of pale floral fragrance, perhaps emanating from an unlit candle positioned atop a wooden drawer.
If loneliness had a scent, 8-Ball thought, this must be it – aching and palpable in the air.
8-Ball closed the door behind him with a decisive click, not bothering to cast a glance in Tommy’s direction. As he turned, his focus shifted to the bed, and there, he found his friend, lost in her own world. She lay on the bed, her back turned to the room, her body curled on the mattress beneath a duvet that covered her legs. It was unclear if she was awake, but her rapid breathing betrayed a state of unrest that belied relaxation.
“Reena?” 8-Ball called out.
She flinched, her shoulders moving in a fickle. Slowly, she began to shift, but it was evident that every movement took tremendous effort. For a brief, fragile moment, she froze until she slowly turned her head back over her shoulder.
Her eyes were swollen, a proof of incessant crying and sleepless nights. Yet, despite her misery, her gaze held an intense bitterness, and 8-Ball braced himself for the possibility of harsh words or a torrent of emotions. All that, he’d accept without hesitation.
However, much to his surprise, and perhaps his growing concern, she didn’t lash out. Instead, she pushed herself up, propped against the headboard, and drew her knees toward her chest, her vulnerability shining through.
“What are you doing here?” she demanded, her voice dripping with a coldness so unfamiliar that 8-Ball could hardly recognize it as hers.
8-Ball cautiously circled the bed and settled on the mattress near her feet. He lowered his chin toward his chest, gathering the courage to speak. Despite his mental preparation, his words felt feeble in the face of the overwhelming guilt and helplessness that plagued him.
Then, he looked up, enduring the heartache of witnessing Reena’s pain face to face. “I’m sorry...” 8-Ball murmured. There was nothing much to say at this point.
Reena jeered. She wiped the smudge of tears on her face. “So, you know it too…”
He responded with a simple nod. Her resentment echoed so profoundly that it physically hurt 8-Ball, his head throbbing and his eyes welling with unshed tears. He knew that she had every reason to be angry with him, and no amount of words could and would appease her.
8-Ball felt his jaw quiver as he attempted to summon all the words and explain himself. “I didn’t have the strength to tell you before, but believe me, I tried so many times,” he confessed.
“You could’ve at least told me he’s alive...”
“It’s not– it’s complicated, Reena.”
“You know how I suffered because I thought he wasn’t... he wasn’t coming back...”
Tightening his lips, 8-Ball nodded once more, his efforts to restrain his emotions failing as tears began to trickle down his cheeks. “I did... I do... and I’m sorry...”
“Are you here to tell me that Claude wanted to leave me, just like Asuka?” Reena asked, her question fraught with anguish and hostility.
Even if they spoke the truth, 8-Ball had no intention of collaborating with them. They could try to persuade him, but his loyalty stood firmly by Claude’s side. He believed that his friend had valid reasons for the choices he’d made long ago. He knew Claude regretted those decisions, but they had been made with good intentions, an attempt to let go of the person he loved deeply even if it was the most painful thing to do for him. Claude had willingly vanished from Reena’s life to give her the chance to move forward, and 8-Ball? He couldn’t fault Claude for that.
They were meant to be together. No one, not even Tommy, could keep them apart.
8-Ball shook his head, meeting Reena’s intent gaze, determination coursing through his veins. “You have to leave,” he declared, emphasizing the last word forcefully, making sure his words were carried to the others in the hall. “Come with Tommy to Las Venturas. It’s your only chance.”
Reena squinted at him, her disbelief evident. “You want me... to just give Claude up?”
Drawing nearer, 8-Ball leaned in closer. “Yes. Go to the airport. Never look back. Claude wanted to leave...”
Reena’s face contorted, and it appeared as if she was beginning to grasp the silent message 8-Ball was trying to convey. Her eyes remained locked on his as he slowly retrieved his phone from his pocket, revealing the screen with an ongoing call. She shifted her gaze to the device, and suddenly, her eyes lit up with realization. She glanced back at 8-Ball, then at the phone, and once more, back at him.
In response to her unspoken question, 8-Ball gave her a firm, reassuring nod. “This is the chance for you to live a new life with your kids, Reena.”
Reena’s continuous nodding affirmed her understanding, and with trembling hands, she seized the phone, pressing it to her ear. As 8-Ball talked, recounting Claude’s wishes for them to keep Reena in the dark about his whereabouts, his reluctance to know anything about her and their child, and her need to remain steadfast despite his sudden return, Reena listened to Claude on the other line.
“If he truly loved you, Reena, he would come for you. He would.”
Amid his words, 8-Ball moved closer and wrapped his arms around his friend tightly. She began to whimper, her head still nodding, while tears streamed down her cheeks in palpable relief. In a fleeting moment, she clung to his body, burying her face in his shoulder as she gasped for air.
8-Ball gently rubbed her back as he tried to stifle his own emotions. He held her at arm’s length, his hands cupping her tear-stained face, and tenderly wiped away the tears that had marred her cheeks.
“You can do this... trust yourself,” he encouraged, his voice filled with a soothing reassurance.
As they reluctantly unlatched from each other’s embrace, Reena returned the phone to 8-Ball, the screen displaying that the call had ended. He accepted it with a grateful nod, slipping the device back into his pocket before gently cupping her cheek again.
“I believe in you,” he told her sincerely. Then, he pressed a tender kiss to Reena’s forehead.
Reena’s expression had undergone a remarkable transformation. The fear and distrust that had shrouded her moments ago had now given way to something optimistic. Her teeth sank into her lower lip as 8-Ball rose to his feet, his grip firm as he held her hand one last time.
Although it took every ounce of his strength to leave her in that room, 8-Ball eventually turned away and walked toward the door, exiting with a heavy heart. In the hallway outside, he found Tommy leaning against the wall, arms folded over his chest, patiently waiting.
“How’s she?” Tommy inquired, anticipation glimmering in his eyes.
The lump in 8-Ball’s throat seemed to swell even larger, making it difficult to speak, but he forced himself to swallow. “You can try talking to her tonight. She’ll listen to you.”
Relief washed over Tommy’s face. “Really?” And for the first time, a genuine smile began to occupy his face. “T-Thank you, 8-Ball, I-I didn’t know what to say–”
“Don’t mention it,” 8-Ball immediately replied. He raised a hand and gave Tommy’s arm a reassuring pat, sealing the final act of his pretense.
He walked back down the hallway toward the office where Asuka awaited him, passing Marcus along the way. The man shot him another cold, scrutinizing glance, but 8-Ball paid him no mind. Continuing on his path, he came across Leigh. Unlike the others, Leigh regarded him with a suspicious gaze, as if he wanted to say something but ultimately decided against it.
“Are you done talking to Reena?” Asuka inquired as soon as he entered the office.
“Yeah,” 8-Ball replied tersely. He grabbed his jacket and spun toward the exit once more, eager to leave this wretched place behind. “I think she truly listened to me,” he added, and then he stormed out of the office, making a silent vow never to return to the Vercetti Estate again.
Chapter 103: In Two Minds
Notes:
TW: Suicidal Ideation
Chapter Text
THE LATE AFTERNOON’S sun cast a gentle haze over Reena’s vision as the curtains were carefully pushed further to the edge of the window. The bright, red-orange light streamed through the windowpanes, filling the room with a warm, golden luster – a stark difference from how gloomy and dark her world was.
She cradled Tamia against her chest, doing her best to keep the baby comfortable. It had been several days since she’d last breastfed her little girl, and her arm ached from the strain of effort, but she couldn’t care less. Right beside her, Cleo slept soundly. His tiny arm was draped on her thighs, and his rosy cheek was pressed beside her hips, his mouth slightly agape. Around them, his toys, drawings on pieces of paper, and crayons were haphazardly strewn across the floor.
Reena’s eyes lingered on the boy, and the longer she gazed, the more she saw his semblance to his father.
A pang of sorrow gripped her chest. The kind of sorrow that couldn’t be quenched.
Years of lies, years of stupidity.
After Mrs. Hubbard tidied up Cleo’s belongings, she carefully set the storage box aside and disappeared into the bathroom. Reena could hear the sound of water flowing, filling the bathtub. Positioned at the foot of the bed were fresh clothes that Mrs. Hubbard had retrieved from her closet.
The elderly woman had been looking after her children ever since she fell ill. Her fever was long gone, but the scrunching unease in her gut persisted, leaving her feeling queasy all the time.
She was locked inside. Tommy wasn’t allowing her to visit the nursery, let alone leave the confines of their bedroom, but, truth be told, she lacked the will to do so anyway. Her entire body felt numb and weakened after the days she spent crying in bed. And even though Mrs. Hubbard brought the children to her at least twice a day, she couldn’t bear to look at them, especially at Tamia. Reena knew it was cruel, but she couldn’t even muster the vigor to touch her since discovering what Tommy had done. Only now did she find the strength.
Her daughter bore no blame for this. She should not be blamed for the foolish choices Reena made herself.
Mrs. Hubbard sat in front of her. “I’ve prepared your bath, dear. Would you like me to hold Tamia for a while?”
Reena looked up and shook her head. “I want to hold her a little while longer.”
Mrs. Hubbard gently placed a hand on her lap. “You have to take care of yourself too. It pains me to see you like this...”
Pain. Everybody could feel pain. Watching her spiral down could be awful to the people around her, but they would never grasp the kind of agony she was going through right now. It felt like her whole life had been snatched away from her. Her whole being. Her hopes and dreams and everything she stood for.
She stirred, a faint yet wicked smile slowly creeping on her lips. “How would you feel if... all the people you trusted lied to you?”
It seemed like Mrs. Hubbard stiffened for a moment. “I… I’d be very angry.”
“That’s exactly how I feel,” Reena retorted. “All of them... they made me believe he was gone.”
“Reena–”
“They made a fool out of me.” Her voice quivered. “Tommy made a fool out of me.”
Her head spun slightly. Not a single day had passed when she could close her eyes in peace. Her eyelids were heavy, so heavy, yet she fought to keep them open. She didn’t want to sleep, dreading the thought that if she closed her eyes, she might awaken with Tommy beside her. The mere notion of him being so close made her stomach churn.
Did she love him? Had she ever truly loved him? Reena found herself second-guessing her own emotions. The changes had been drastic, like a bullet slipping out of a gun’s chamber. It felt as if it had been just yesterday that her life was filled with bliss, looking forward to a promising future with Tommy. She’d thought that she couldn’t have asked for more, but when he pulled the trigger, all the love she had once felt for him seemed to fade, replaced by nothing but resentment.
“The man, who is he?” Mrs. Hubbard inquired.
Reena’s lips trembled, and she felt as though the air was slowly being sucked out of her lungs. “My Claude…” she said.
“How come?” Mrs. Hubbard’s face furrowed. “Didn’t you tell me before he was gone?”
“I thought so too.” Reena chuckled bitterly. “Tommy said he was dead, and I believed him.”
Regret washed over her like an incoming tide. She felt as though she was drowning, with a wave of hatred crashing over her, propelling her deeper into the recesses of her mind.
“Do you know how it feels when the person you love so much just disappears and takes a big part of you with them?” Although her heart felt like it was bleeding, not a single tear made it out of her eyes. “I felt like I died every single day, and I was willing to go. But Tommy… he came for me, made me see sense again.”
Time could be cruel, and fate equally so, but when Reena opened her eyes and saw Tommy, she realized that she didn’t have to endure her heartbreak alone. He was there for her, a steadfast presence in her life. She believed that she’d already bounced back, but now, as she opened her eyes wider, she realized that Tommy was one of the reasons for all the pain she experienced.
“Don’t you love Mr. Vercetti?” Mrs. Hubbard asked.
Reena looked at Tamia, who had already fallen fast asleep in her arms, having let go of her breast. She adjusted her blouse to cover her bosom and held the baby a little higher, pressing a tender kiss to her forehead.
“I think I did,” Reena began, “because if I didn’t, I wouldn’t be hurt this way. It’s just... it’s so hard because... I know I love Claude even more.” She choked on the lump in her throat. “When I saw Claude, everything came back, and though I love Tommy, I know to myself that Claude’s still here,” she said, gently pressing a fist to her chest.
Mrs. Hubbard might not fully grasp her turmoil. Reena knew that none of them might ever truly understand. One day, she would have to confront the consequences of her actions and choices, but for now, she had to make a decision.
“What about Tamia?”
“I have to choose, or maybe none at all.”
“Is this really what you wanted?”
It didn’t matter. Life would be devoid of meaning if she continued to exist in emptiness. Too often, she’d chosen to put others before herself, but now, she was determined to pursue what would bring her happiness.
Reena’s gaze drifted toward the window. Darker hues now tinged the skies as the fading gold ebbed on the horizon.
“Thank you, Mrs. Hubbard. I think I need to go shower now.”
The old woman’s eyes had a forlorn look, but her lips curved into a smile as if she understood what Reena meant. Mrs. Hubbard took Tamia from her arms, and Reena slowly removed Cleo’s embrace from her thighs. She leaned down and planted a kiss on Cleo’s cheek, then stood and stooped to kiss Tamia on the head.
Reena made her way into the bathroom, her steps slow and heavy. The tiles beneath her feet felt frigid as she closed the door behind her. She sank onto the toilet’s lid, her gaze fixed on the wedding ring that encircled her finger.
She couldn’t help but recall every single word that Ken Rosenberg had told her. She hadn’t wanted to run to him and admit that he was right. She hadn’t wanted to allow his words to infiltrate her mind and torment her as they were doing now. She had been reluctant to nurture the wavering trust she still held onto. Most of all, she hadn’t wanted to shatter her husband’s heart.
But now? Reena questioned herself. What more could she lose if Tommy himself had taken away everything dear to her from the very start?
It became crystal clear. Ken had been right all along. In Tommy’s eyes, she was nothing more than merchandise, just like everybody else.
Slowly, Reena began to undress, allowing her clothes to fall to her ankles. She dipped her fingers into the bathtub, feeling the lukewarm water. Lifting her feet, she eased herself into the water, letting it envelop her tired body with its soothing warmth, providing a brief respite from her tumultuous thoughts.
Reena closed her eyes.
Tommy had stood by her side, provided support, and rescued her from loneliness. He’d offered her protection, treated her son as his own, and, like Claude, made her feel loved and wanted. Everything seemed perfect. But not everything was as good as it seemed.
He hadn’t just lied to her; he had deceived her with his so-called love, a suffocating false sense of happiness built from deceit.
Into the tub, Reena slid down, her back resting at the cold bottom, holding her breath until her lungs pleaded for release. She held her neck, pressing her fingers hard on the veins where she could feel her own throbbing pulse. She could die this way, right now, and nobody would know. Nobody would ever suspect. Tommy might find her cold, lifeless body in a few hours, beyond saving.
It was the perfect escape. They could mourn her, for all she cared.
Time ticked by, and she began to feel pain. Her lungs burned with an unbearable fire, each second stretching into an eternity. The water around her distorted the world above, blurring the edges of reality, making it seem distant and unreachable. Her mind raced, a chaotic swirl of despair and longing for peace.
A part of her screamed for air, for survival. It was the primal, instinctual part of her, fighting against the suffocating grip of the water. Her chest convulsed involuntarily, muscles spasming in a desperate bid to breathe. But she fought it, determined to end the suffering, to silence the relentless voices in her head that told her her life was broken beyond repair.
But something surged within her, a familiar feeling, akin to a fight for survival. It was like when the waves of Cochrane Dam had swallowed her, and she’d flailed her arms in a desperate attempt to resurface. She’d kicked her feet with all her might, striving to reach a point where she could gasp for air. Amid that turbulent storm, the relentless gust of the wind, and the ruthless waves and vortexes, there was only one thing fixed in her mind.
To see Claude once more.
With a sudden, convulsive gasp, Reena broke the surface, coughing and choking as air flooded her lungs. The pain was overwhelming, but so was the relief. She clambered over the rim, her wet limbs shaking with adrenaline.
She had to see Claude. She had to be with Claude.
Reena scurried out of the bathroom. Her fingers grazed the doorframe for support, her waning legs not enough to keep her up. She settled herself on the edge of the bed and ran her freezing fingers through her damp hair.
“Fuck, Reena…” she whispered to herself. She sat there, trembling and sobbing, her body wracked with shivers as the cold reality of her actions sank in.
Even if it had only been a moment of weakness, she couldn’t believe she’d allowed herself to fall so far. What kind of a mother was she? How could she have not thought of her children while trying to kill herself?
Every second that went by, her hatred of herself grew deeper, but so did her resolve. She couldn’t let her situation now dictate her future… their future.
Trust? No more. Love? It no longer mattered. Choice? It had become a tormenting struggle. She couldn’t afford to make a mistake.
With the palm of her hand, Reena wiped away her tears. She inhaled deeply to calm herself before reaching for the towel next to her.
All of a sudden, she heard the sound of keys jingling, her ears perked up.
Tommy’s presence loomed behind her, his footsteps echoing with a distinct thud. His overpowering scent wafted through the room, a mixture of his cologne and rum, wrapping around her like a suffocating shroud. Her naked back remained exposed to him, vulnerable in its rawness, and she sensed that his eyes were locked on her. The door clicked shut, and a heavy sigh followed.
In a swift motion, Reena reached for the satin sleepwear beside her and slipped her arms into its sleeves, hastily covering herself.
She heard Tommy clear his throat. “Can I talk to you?”
Reena reached for the comb resting on the bedside table and began to brush her hair slowly. Every fiber of her being rebelled against the urge to lash out and drive Tommy away, but she knew that, for now, she had to play the part. She groomed herself, placing the comb back on the table after a couple more strokes.
“I wanna talk to you too,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper, then she looked over her shoulder.
Something flickered in his eyes, like a glint of hope. “Can I sit beside you?”
Reena stiffened, but she knew she had to put on an act. Claude’s words echoed in her mind, reminding her that she needed to do whatever it took to gain Tommy’s trust.
She had to be convincing… welcoming.
Nodding her head gently, Reena summoned a forced smile to her lips. “You can,” she replied, trying to keep her voice steady.
It was almost as if Tommy was going to jump out of joy. Hurriedly, he circled the bed, his steps faltering a bit, hindered by his injured leg, but he seemed to not mind. He sat beside her, maintaining a distance, seemingly knowing one wrong move could make her change her mind.
Up close, his eyes looked red and puffy, without a doubt that he’d been shedding tears before he came to their room.
“Are you still mad at me?” he asked, his voice cracking in every word he spoke.
To say that she was furious would be an understatement, but she couldn’t let Tommy see it. With all the composure she could summon, Reena shrugged her shoulders, followed by a slow, deliberate shake of her head. “I don’t know,” she replied.
“What can I do to make you forgive me?”
Reena didn’t know what to feel about Tommy’s question. Could he even do anything? For Christ’s sake, how could he not realize how pathetic his question was? He lied to her for years, and he still had the guts to ask what he should do so that she’d forgive him. Even to her, it was ridiculous to ever think she would.
“Tommy,” she muttered softly, restraining herself from giving in to her seething emotions. “You have to tell me the truth.”
“Everything I told you about was the truth…” he huffed, his face contorting in palpable desperation. “Everything…”
“What happened to him? To Claude?”
“Speed was imprisoned. He… he was found by the police in the dam, and… and–”
“When did you know about this?”
His eyes fluttered as he struggled to find the words. “Since you left for Angel Pine,” he admitted, his voice heavy with regret.
The sheets on the mattress were the only things she could grasp, and Reena’s fingers clenched the fabric, her knuckles growing stiff. “Did all of you know about it?” she demanded.
He nodded.
Reena felt her heart ache even more. Tommy kept her in the dark for so long, making her believe Claude was gone. Dead. Her fingers continued to grip the sheets tightly, anger and sorrow churning within her. “Why didn’t you tell me?” she asked as tears threatened to fall. “I always asked you, and you always said you didn’t know…”
“Baby, believe me, I wanted to tell you so many times,” Tommy began, his tone pleading. “But Speed, he made me promise not to say anything. He refused to hear me out when I tried to tell him about you and Cleo.”
Tears streamed down his face, and he reached out to touch her hand. Reena flinched, but she fought so hard to pull her hand away.
“I know it’s no excuse, and I’m so sorry–”
“You’re sorry,” she mumbled, her words cutting him through. Reena raised her tear-filled eyes to meet his gaze. Every word he uttered felt like a deception, and she couldn’t bring herself to care about the tears he shed. All she craved was to hear his lies once more, to fortify her resolve. “I’m trying to understand, but it’s beyond me…”
“Don’t you love me, baby?” he asked, misery reeking in his voice. “Are we just gonna throw these all away?”
He inched toward her, his presence imposing as he closed the gap between them on the bed. When he touched her face, Reena didn’t recoil, even though every nerve within her shuddered with disgust.
“Don’t leave me, I’m begging you... Tell me you’ll stay and come with me, just like you promised,” he whimpered like a lost child. “Promise me, baby…”
Her vision began to blur. The urge the shove Tommy away from her was getting fiercer, overwhelming, but she recalled Claude’s words during their phone call. Her heart rose in her throat, threatening to spill out words she could never get back, but she had to be strong. She had to be tough.
Just one more fucking time.
“I promise...” she whispered.
Delight flickered in Tommy’s face, ascertaining that her words affected him deeply. “I’d do everything for you. I’ll give you everything…”
“I know…”
His arms wrapped around her in an instant. Tommy buried his face between her neck and shoulders, showering her with kisses she struggled not to defy. Then, Tommy held her at arm’s length. Their eyes locked in silence, his gaze desperate yet hopeful.
Reena’s eyes darted toward his lips. The lips she’d kissed a thousand times. The lips that comforted her on her loneliest nights. The lips that showered her with affection and adoration. They were the same lips that fed her lies. The lips that shattered her dreams. The lips that broke her heart.
After a moment of hesitation, she gathered her resolve and leaned forward.
One more time.
As her lips pressed upon Tommy’s, all Reena could do was imagine she was kissing Claude.
Chapter 104: Reparations
Chapter Text
AS TOMMY’S EYES fluttered open, he found Reena perched at the edge of their bed, her gaze fixed on the soft, filtered sunlight seeping through the closed shutters. The gentle morning rays danced on her hair, rendering it a luminous golden hue, reminiscent of autumn’s vibrant foliage. To say she was glorious hardly did justice to her beauty. He steadfastly maintained his belief that she was, without a doubt, the most stunning vision he had ever beheld.
How could he wake up every morning if his wife hadn’t forgiven him?
Tommy didn’t want to imagine.
He settled onto the bed, mindful of not disrupting her. However, Reena appeared to sense the slight movement of the blanket, prompting her to glance back over her shoulder. Tommy, ever so gently, maneuvered closer to her, encircling her from behind, his hands tenderly grasping her arms, and he placed a lingering kiss on her cheek. She leaned into his embrace, closing her eyes as she rested her head against him.
“What are you thinking?” Tommy whispered.
Reena turned her head slightly, her eyes meeting his. “Our last day, that’s all,” she replied.
Tommy joined her in staring at the window, the morning rays casting a warm glow across the room. He rested his chin on her shoulder, relishing every bit of moment they spent close to each other. There was no denying he would miss this place, Vice City, which had been his home for nearly a decade. It was here where he had found himself, but now that he found himself anew in the arms of the woman he loved, Tommy knew he was ready to let everything else go.
He planted a soft kiss on her shoulder and leaned close to her ear. “I’m going to the office.”
“Can I go out again?” Reena inquired.
He affectionately rubbed his nose against her skin. “Of course. You don’t have to ask me every time.”
8-Ball’s visit made wonders. Reena’s smiles returned, and Tommy permitted her to leave the bedroom without any resistance. She no longer inquired about Claude’s whereabouts, nor did she attempt to venture outside, even to places like the shed or the Waterview. Reena expressed a preference for staying indoors, to spend time with their children and him.
Alas, she’d finally found her footing and come to her senses.
“Are you coming with me?” Tommy asked.
“I’ll follow,” she replied with a soft smile.
Summoning every ounce of strength he had that morning, Tommy reluctantly left Reena behind in the bedroom. He made his way to the office, where a folder awaited him on the desk. He moved sluggishly and settled into the swivel chair, pulling the contract closer. It was the document that would transfer ownership of Print Works to Earnest Kelly. Without a second thought, he uncapped a pen and pressed it to the paper, signing his name at the bottom of each page. Today, he’d be visiting him in Little Havana, delivering the title, and bidding a final farewell.
As he perused the stipulations that held no sway over his judgment any longer, a sudden rich aroma of coffee wafted into his senses, enticing him to glance toward the door. Much to his delight, Reena stood there, holding a cup on a saucer, her face adorned with a gentle smile. She made her way toward his desk and set the steaming cup down on the surface.
“You’re already working,” she commented, her voice tinged with concern. “You haven’t had anything yet.”
A part of Tommy wanted to remain cautious, not wanting to get his hopes up too soon, but damned he be. Reena was gradually returning to her old self, and what she did now felt like a promising start, the kind of healing they both needed.
With each passing day, they took a few more steps toward rebuilding their lives and their relationship.
“Thanks,” he said, pressing a gentle kiss to her hand. “I needed this.”
She gently squeezed his fingers before she withdrew. Then, she settled on the couch, grabbed the book she’d been reading, and curled up comfortably.
Tommy enjoyed watching her let loose. She looked so calm, so serene, just like before. He recalled the moments when they’d sit side by side in bed, her reading a book and him flicking through a magazine. On days when he’d be home during the day, they’d sit by the Waterview, where she’d read aloud to him, her voice a soothing melody. Those moments, fleeting and wonderful, made time seem to stand still.
And now, he couldn’t help but want to be close to her.
“Why don’t you sit here with me?” he suggested, patting his lap.
Reena met his gaze, her smile somewhat sheepish. “You wouldn’t want that. I’m too heavy for you,” she teased.
Tommy shook his head. “No, you’re not,” he insisted. “Come on, please.”
“I-I don’t know, Tommy…”
Too late, Tommy realized he might have been too pushy. She’d let him share the bed with her since that night, but in the following days, he noticed her flinch whenever he inadvertently touched her in their sleep. It could have been a mindless reaction, but he sensed it ran deeper than that.
“I’m sorry, you can just… just stay there–”
Reena stood and walked toward him, much to his surprise. She settled herself on his lap, as he’d requested. “Say, are you comfortable?” she asked with a sly grin.
Her skin was tantalizingly close to his face. Too close. And she fucking smelled so good. It was as if something pulled him toward her, and Tommy was not able to hold back. He kissed the crook of her neck, his lips nibbling her skin with warm, wet kisses.
Reena didn’t object. She allowed him to do as he pleased.
“We can always be like this, you know?” His hand found her waist, fingers tracing the contours of her curves.
A soft hum escaped her lips as she set the book aside and shifted her attention to him. Reena wrapped her arms around his neck, her eyes locked onto his, tracing down to his nose and then lingering on his lips. Tommy remained still as she leaned in, the distance closing between them. Their mouths danced along the seams of each other’s cusps, tongues gently parting them. His response was fervent, a tender suction on her lower lip and a tightened grip as he pulled her close.
Reena moaned. Tommy’s groin tightened, his arousal straining against his pants. Sliding his hand from her scruff down to her breast, he withdrew his lips from her mouth and trailed kisses down her collarbone. His thumb brushed over her nipple, eliciting a purr from her until he ventured lower, skimming his hand beneath the hem of her clothes.
“I want you,” he whispered to her ear, catching a whiff of the pale, lilac scent of her hair. “Please, baby…”
Reena nodded slowly, her brows furrowing. Her skin, warm and inviting, seemed to ignite a thousand sensations within him. As he continued to caress her, a shiver of desire shot through him, prompting his fingers to reach for her shirt. He clutched the fabric in his hand, ready to tear it off–
“Boss…”
They both jolted in their spots, swiftly turning their heads in the door’s direction. Marcus and Leigh were standing at the door, their expressions a mix of shock and embarrassment. Reena hurriedly adjusted her clothing and smoothed her hair back behind her ears. Tommy, too, felt a rush of heat in his cheeks, not from frustration, but from the excitement that coursed through him after they almost had sex.
“We’re sorry to disturb you–”
“It’s... it’s okay,” Tommy managed to say, unable to muster any frustration given the recent turn of events. It was too tantalizing to be entirely disappointing, and he held onto the promise of continuing what they had started later, in a more private setting. “Sweetie, can you leave us just for a sec?” he reluctantly asked Reena.
“Of course,” she answered, beaming. She leaned down to kiss him once more before rising to her feet. Then, she picked up her book from the table and left the office.
Tommy and the twins fell silent, their expressions conveying reluctance to speak. He decided to break the quiet. “What’s the matter?”
Marcus approached his desk and handed him a piece of paper. “Flight records of Ken Rosenberg about three days ago, Boss. And the white Admiral was found in Vice Point...”
A nerve throbbed in Tommy’s temple. “That damn car?”
The henchman nodded. “They stayed in Moonlite Hotel in Ocean Drive. The men got there. Their room was empty now. Both of them have left.”
Tommy pursed his lips. “But nobody has seen Speed?” he mumbled.
Marcus and Leigh shook their heads.
“Ken was his only resource,” Tommy contemplated aloud as he cradled his chin with his knuckles. “It would be difficult for him to come close even just an inch.”
He swept a hand over his face, then glanced up at Marcus and Leigh, motioning gently to dismiss them. After the two had gone, Tommy sat in silence, thinking where else Claude could seek refuge. He reached for the cup of coffee and sipped from it, only to find it no longer hot. He wondered how long it had been sitting there, growing cold and losing its strength. Disappointed, he set the cup back on the saucer, then stood and made his way to the balcony.
From there, he looked down at the foyer where some of the mobsters, including Marcus and Leigh, were gathered. Everything seemed fine. For now, they didn’t know where Claude was, but no matter what he did, he wouldn’t get past Tommy and his henchmen. The worry wouldn’t just go away, but at least he was assured that Reena and their children were safe in his care, by his side.
After all, Reena had come back to him.
He drummed his fingers on the newel post and then swept his palm along the long handrail as he walked down the hallway to check on the kids in the nursery. Tommy whistled on his way, casually taking playful strides on the corridor until he heard Reena speak from the room.
“Did you prepare them for me?” she asked.
Tommy halted just before he reached the doorway, his presence concealed.
“Yes, I did. But what are these for?” Mrs. Hubbard asked.
There was no immediate answer from Reena.
“Dear, don’t tell me this is it?” the elderly woman asked once more.
“Mrs. Hubbard,” Reena whispered, “you gotta help me–”
Tommy approached the door, and his eyes locked with Reena’s. Mrs. Hubbard’s gaze darted away like a frightened bird, her face flushing in an instant. She swiftly moved toward Tamia, gently lifting her from the crib.
“What is it that you need to prepare?” Tommy probed, his curiosity getting ahead of him.
Reena looked stunned at first, but a soft smile slowly painted her face. She approached his spot, circled her arms around his neck, tiptoed, and kissed him on the cheek. “I was just about to check on you. Are you done talking with Marcus and Leigh?”
Tommy grinned, although a nagging feeling of uncertainty lingered in the back of his mind. The odd shift in their behavior and hushed tones left him feeling that he’d heard something he must not have.
“Yeah, they already left.” As Tommy stood with his arm wrapped around Reena’s waist, he cast an inquisitive glance toward the elderly woman. “Mrs. Hubbard?”
The elderly woman looked at him with rather sheepish eyes. “Y-Yes, Mr. Vercetti?”
Tommy pointed at the knapsack nestled in the corner of the room. “Are all their things ready?” He eyed the bag once more. “What’s that?”
“I-It’s a hand-carry, sir. The kids might need immediate things when we’re on board,” she quickly responded.
He felt his own face churn. “Isn’t it too big?”
Mrs. Hubbard chuckled. She sounded uncanny, almost as if terrified. “N-No, Mr. Vercetti. It’s very light.”
“Tommy, do you need me to do something for you?” Reena gently intervened.
Despite his doubts about Mrs. Hubbard’s answers, Tommy turned his attention back to his wife. “Yeah, actually I do. Mrs. Hubbard, if you’ll excuse us,” he said, then he tugged her gently out of the nursery.
“What’s wrong?” Reena asked, her eyes reflecting her growing concern.
“I gotta drop by Little Havana and meet with Pops. Would you be okay here?”
Her eyes sparkled. “Can I come with you?”
Tommy hesitated. He wasn’t comfortable letting her out for now, but he knew that once they reached Las Venturas, she’d have the freedom she deserved. Boundless.
“I’m sorry,” he said, his head bowing low. “It’s better if you stay here.”
Reena was quiet for a moment, her eyes searching his, her lips parting slightly as if she wanted to say something. Tommy wondered what she was thinking, or worse, he worried if his refusal would cause her to pull back from him again, but as he prepared himself to apologize, Reena pressed both of her hands on his chest.
“Don’t worry, Tommy. I understand,” she said, a reassuring smile lingering on her lips.
“Are you sure?” he asked in disbelief, not wanting to risk anything he was enjoying now.
Reena nodded, her gaze loving and sweet. “Take care, and come home early. Can’t stay away from you for too long.”
Tommy left the estate with no weight on his shoulder, his heart swelling in ecstasy. He drove toward Print Works, and a sense of excitement and happiness surged within him. The gentle breeze ruffled his hair, and the sun bathed his car in warm, golden light. The familiar sights of Vice City, the bustling streets, and the landmarks had never looked so beautiful in his eyes.
He felt so alive. The anticipation of what lay ahead in Las Venturas, a fresh start with Reena and the children, filled him with an inexplicable excitement.
A life without Reena was devoid of purpose or meaning. She had breathed life into his existence, transforming it in ways he could never have imagined. Now, his life spun uncontrollably in her hands, and he could only hope that one day, she’d fully grasp the depth of his love for her.
As he arrived at Print Works, Tommy parked his vehicle in the vacant lot, the engine revving softly as he turned off the ignition. With a confident tread, he made his way toward the entrance of the building.
The familiar scent of paper and ink greeted him as he stepped inside, a reminder of the thriving business he was about to part with. Employees scurried around, tending to their tasks, but Tommy’s focus was to find his old man. After strolling across the halls and giving the employees a firm nod, he spotted Earnest Kelly in his cluttered office, surrounded by stacks of paperwork and blueprints.
Tommy knocked on his door and welcomed himself in. “Pops,” he greeted, unable to keep a smile from forming on his lips. “Print Works is all yours now…” he said, thrill coursing through his veins as he extended the contract toward Earnest Kelly.
His pops didn’t spare him a look. At first, Tommy felt concerned, wondering if perhaps Earnest Kelly was sick or facing some other personal issue that had taken a toll on him. He couldn’t help but notice that his pops approached coldly, taking the contract from his hand with a firm grip.
“Is something wrong, Pops?” Tommy asked, watching the old man sluggishly move back to the desk. His demeanor seemed different, and his expression was inscrutable. Tommy couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but something felt off.
A strange and unsettling silence hung in the air, a compelling contrast to the warmth and familiarity that typically accompanied Tommy’s visits to Print Works. There was an absence of the usual greetings, the smiles, and the fatherly affection. It was as if Earnest Kelly was not pleased to see him, the lack of acknowledgment solidifying his curiosities further.
Earnest Kelly sighed wearily as he settled into his chair, his aging eyes scrutinizing the documents within the folder that Tommy had presented. The seconds stretched into what felt like an eternity. It was only when the old man finally closed the folder and casually tossed it back in Tommy’s direction that the tension in the room seemed to break, though it left more questions than answers.
The papers scattered to the floor, each page taking flight in different directions, like fragile leaves in a sudden gust of wind. Tommy stood there, frozen in place, his body refusing to move as if it were firmly rooted to the ground. Across from him, Earnest Kelly’s once steady hand was now a clenched fist on the desk. They displayed prominent veins, and his knuckles were stark white.
“Tell me, Mr. Vercetti,” Earnest Kelly said, his voice low and hollow, “are you happy with what you’ve done?”
“W-What do you mean–”
Earnest Kelly slowly lifted his head, and in his eyes, there welled tears. With a gradual, almost painful motion, the old man shook his head, his silver hair swaying slightly with the movement. Then, his gaze dropped once more, as if he couldn’t bear to hold it high any longer.
“I’ve told you before, I’m not here to judge you, sonny…” he began, though his voice seemed to break in every word, “but what you did was wrong. Unforgivably wrong.”
Tommy remained unable to find the right words, yet he grasped the depth of his Pops’ message. How Earnest Kelly had learned of the situation remained a mystery, but Tommy felt no inclination to inquire further. The old man’s reactions alone painted a vivid picture of his take on the situation.
Earnest Kelly rose from his seat, his movements deliberate and heavy with meaning. Tommy made an effort to assist, but a raised hand from the old man halted him in his tracks. He respectfully stepped back, observing as Earnest Kelly meticulously gathered the scattered papers from the floor. Once every sheet had been retrieved, the old man carefully placed them back into the folder and handed it back to Tommy.
“I’m resigning, Mr. Vercetti,” he declared loud enough to ascertain his conviction. “The letter’s on the desk.”
Earnest Kelly walked past him, leaving Tommy standing amid the small office. The sound of the door closing behind his pops echoed like a heavy, final verdict, sealing the old man’s intent to depart from what they had…
Chapter 105: Crescendo
Chapter Text
FEAR CLAWED AT her chest, but Reena knew she had to find strength within herself. This was her one and only chance, a glimmer of hope in an otherwise dark future. Each morning she awoke, a tiny flicker of doubt would spark in her mind, a desperate yearning for a change of heart. She wished for clarity, for a voice to tell her that what she was about to do was cruel and wrong. But every time, Tommy’s lies loomed larger, a shadow cast over her life, rendering words inadequate to capture the depth of her pain and resentment toward him.
She squeezed her eyes shut as if hoping for a last-minute miracle to bring her to her senses. When she finally opened them, still, the harsh reality confronted her. There was no turning back; she had to move ahead. It wasn’t simple to throw away the life she’d built with Tommy, a life she thought could never be more perfect.
Reena understood that she needed to do it. Gaining Tommy’s trust and eliminating any shred of suspicion was vital, but she couldn’t force herself to take that final step, at least not at this moment. Letting him sleep beside her, kiss her, and touch her was already a test of her resolve. She struggled to maintain her composure, fighting the urge to recoil or give in. To her relief, Marcus and Leigh arrived, interrupting their moment.
I can do it, she thought to herself.
With the letter complete, Reena set the pen aside and reviewed her message. Carefully, she folded the paper twice, smoothing it out with her hand. She slipped the note, along with the last remaining lilac blooms she’d gathered from the fading plant in the shed, into the pages of the book she’d been reading. Placing the book inside the empty drawer next to their bed, she took a moment to breathe in.
The door let out a soft creak as it swung open, and Reena’s heart skipped a beat when she spotted Cleo, standing on tiptoe, clutching the doorknob, and smiling at her. She swiftly pushed her thoughts aside and bent down to embrace her son. Cleo eagerly rushed into her arms, planting a kiss on her cheek. Mrs. Hubbard trailed behind him, carrying Tamia. Reena gave her a warm smile, but the elderly woman offered a stern expression instead.
“Is Mr. Vercetti around?” Mrs. Hubbard inquired as she settled Tamia onto the mattress, carefully arranging pillows around the little girl.
Reena approached the bed, her attention divided between her two children. “He went to Mr. Kelly’s. He said he won’t be long.”
Mrs. Hubbard seemed to hesitate for a moment before her mouth parted again. “Can we talk?”
Reena helped Cleo climb onto the bed, and then she sat beside Tamia, cradling the little girl on her lap. “Of course. What is it?”
“You’re leaving?” Mrs. Hubbard’s voice trembled slightly.
Reena’s chin dipped toward her chest as she kissed the top of Tamia’s head. “Tomorrow’s our flight, yes.”
“With that man?!”
Reena froze for a moment, then slowly, she lifted her head, meeting Mrs. Hubbard’s gaze. The way she asked the question, although hushed, was laden with disbelief and if she wasn’t mistaken, disappointment. It felt like a dagger in her heart. Of everyone, it was Mrs. Hubbard whom she’d expected to understand what she was going through, but it seemed like she’d been wrong all along.
“What’s that bag for? Why did you ask me to prepare it for you? All the kids’ papers, their records… your documents, why?”
Reena could feel her heart racing, but she had to hold her ground. “I told you, I need them–”
“You don’t,” Mrs. Hubbard retorted, the firmness in her voice palpable. “What if Mr. Vercetti catches you? He’ll have you locked up again!”
Reena was acutely aware of the risks, just as it had happened before. Tommy would go to great lengths to thwart any escape plans and attempts she’d thought of. The prospect of being trapped with him along with her children for the rest of her life was a grim one, and she was determined to avoid that fate at all costs.
Regardless of what might happen tomorrow, if she managed to reunite with Claude, it meant that fate, time, and circumstance wanted her to be with him.
She’d take it in a heartbeat.
“Come what may. I have nothing to lose but myself.”
“I don’t want that to happen to you...”
“Then, let me be.” She locked eyes with Mrs. Hubbard, tears clouding her vision. “Let me be with him.”
Cleo played with his sister on the bed, covering his eyes with his small hands before suddenly removing them and exclaiming, “Boo!” Tamia burst into hearty laughter, and Cleo repeated the action, coaxing an even louder chuckle from his sister.
“What about Tamia?”
The little girl extended her tiny hand, reaching for Cleo’s hands on his face. It was as if a switch had been flipped. The boy burst into laughter as if he were being tickled, and Tamia squealed in amusement at his reaction.
“I’m taking my children with me.”
Thick and suffocating, that was how the air in the room felt like. Reena’s heart ached as she watched the tears trickle down Mrs. Hubbard’s cheeks. She wished things could be different, that she could explain her decision to the woman who had become a second mother to her, but she couldn’t.
“Boss is back,” a loud, hollow voice spoke from the outside. “You might wanna stop talking.”
Reena’s gaze tugged toward the door, feeling a sudden rush of trepidation within. She looked back at Mrs. Hubbard, and the elderly woman seemed quite aghast too, staring in the same direction while waiting for whoever to show up.
“Just be cautious of your surroundings. You don’t know who’s listening,” he warned once more.
Heavy footsteps faded in the hallway, and Mrs. Hubbard jolted, rushing to the door. She disappeared into the hallway, and Reena heard her call out for him outside.
“Leigh! Leigh!”
Her grip on her children tightened. For someone to discover her true intentions was a blow to her already fragile courage. She couldn’t tell what Mrs. Hubbard might do to convince Leigh not to reveal what he knew. All that she had in her mind was tomorrow, the day she would finally be reunited with him.
“I love you. You’re the love of my life…”
Reena was prepared to gamble it all just to hear Claude utter those words again.
And just like that, she adorned herself with a façade she’d become all too familiar with – the mask of a loving wife. Like a performance she’d grown accustomed to, she sat on the edge of the bed, her posture composed, making sure her eyes reflected warmth. Her heart, however, pounded with unease as she awaited Tommy’s arrival in their bedroom.
No matter what, she wasn’t backing down.
Reena started to play with her children, using their adorable peals of laughter as a shield to her true emotions. Cleo giggled in every tickle, Tamia cooed softly in every kiss, and she kept a bright smile plastered on her face until the footsteps she was hearing came closer and louder, eventually halting by their doorway.
Glancing over her shoulder, Reena found Tommy smiling at them, his face of pure delight that was rather shrouded by a faint tinge of sorrow. She let go of the children, letting them play on their own, and then she rose to her feet, approaching him. Reena reached out for his hand, her fingers intertwining with his, and though for a moment, she thought he’d pull away, Tommy clasped her hand even tighter.
“How’s your visit with Pops?” she asked, letting her gaze dart between his eyes and his lips.
Tommy’s chest rose and fell, and he let out a heavy sigh. “Pops wasn’t around,” he murmured. “I’ll just give him a call, say my goodbyes…”
Sensing the sadness in his tone, Reena gently guided Tommy toward the bed, where he sank onto the soft mattress. She positioned herself behind him, her hands massaging his tense shoulders. Her fingers kneaded his muscles, applying just the right amount of pressure to relieve his stress. As she worked, whatever was bothering Tommy seemed to melt away, and a contented sigh escaped his lips. He closed his eyes, and Reena continued her act, allowing her chest to gently press against his back.
“How’d you know I needed this?” he asked, a hint of curiosity in his voice. His eyes remained closed, but a playful grin danced on his lips.
Reena leaned in close to his ear, making sure he’d feel the warmth of her breath. “We’ve been together long enough to know when my man needs a little more love…” she whispered seductively.
She couldn’t even believe herself now. She felt so convincing, her voice sounded so sweet. Even she, it was hard to admit, could be fooled by her own pretense. There was just one thing she had to do… a thing she didn’t know if she could even stomach doing.
Tommy’s chuckle was distinctive. He reached for her hand and gently pulled her toward him, wordlessly urging her to sit on his lap. Swallowing the lump that had formed in her throat, Reena conjured a smile and settled herself, her legs straddling his hips, while her arms wrapped around his neck. They sat face to face, their eyes locked, and she couldn’t help but feel his growing arousal beneath her.
Damn it.
“Let’s make dinner together,” she suggested, hoping to divert his attention from what he clearly had in mind.
A broader grin stretched across his face, and his grip on her waist tightened, his fingers pressing into her skin. “What’s on your mind?”
Something urged her to stop and move away, but Reena couldn’t afford to let this opportunity slip through her fingers. She forced a playful smile and bit her lower lip lightly. “I’m thinking...” she hummed, tilting her head in Cleo and Tamia’s direction, “that we should send them to bed early so we can have some time for ourselves...”
Tommy’s breath quickened, a glimmer of excitement flashing in his eyes. His gaze flicked to her lips and then back to her eyes, conveying that he had no intention of resisting her suggestion.
When Mrs. Hubbard returned, her expression mirroring the concern she’d displayed before leaving, Reena swiftly moved off Tommy’s lap and smoothed her ruffled skirt down. Tommy ran a hand over his face as if attempting to conceal the grin that was threatening to surface. His reaction confirmed that he’d been thoroughly enjoying the attention Reena was showering him with.
“Mrs. Hubbard,” Reena called out, glancing at the elderly woman as she picked up Tamia. “Tommy and I will prepare dinner. Can you keep an eye on them for us?”
The elderly woman nodded almost immediately, her eyes filled with curiosity. She approached and took Tamia from Reena’s arms. “Of course, dear.”
Reena decided to take matters into her own hands. She and Tommy went to the kitchen together. They chopped vegetables, stirred pots, and set the table, all the while exchanging occasional glances that she played along so well. She flashed him sweet smiles and laughed at his jokes, making sure her eyes sparkled whenever she looked at him. At times, she’d brush her hand against his and lean in for a playful kiss on the cheek, doing everything for her act to be flawless.
After watching Tommy indulge in the food they’d prepared that she barely touched, Reena made every attempt to stretch time. With Tommy, she went to the nursery and played with the children, read their stories, and sang them both to sleep. Everything, Tommy did so happily. As he cradled Tamia in his arms, Reena turned away, not wanting to see that moment that he was so obliviously spending with his daughter for the last time.
Not a word was heard from or about Leigh throughout the day nor he’d been seen in the estate. To her surprise, he remained silent. She waited anxiously, but her dear husband’s behavior proved that Leigh hadn’t told him anything.
Tommy emerged from the bathroom, his skin still dripping with water, a cloud of his aftershave trailing in his wake and filling the air with its scent. Reena forced a smile and greeted him as he approached, a towel casually draped around his lower body. He crawled onto the bed, planting a kiss on her neck, and she tilted her head slightly while keeping the strained smile in place, the muscles in her cheeks feeling taut.
“You smell good,” he whispered, his lips tracing a delicate path to her earlobe.
A tingling sensation began at her nape and traveled down her spine, making her involuntarily shiver.
“Is something bothering you?” he asked, his half-dreamy gaze tinged with prying.
Reena hesitated for a moment, then looked at him and smiled. “Nothing, really. I... I’m just tired.”
He seemed reluctant to remove his hands from her, but eventually, he did so. Tommy walked over to the side of the bed, removed the towel from his hips, and ran his fingers through his hair. Reena assumed he was getting up, but instead, he reached over to the nightstand, paused for a moment, and then retrieved the book she’d placed there earlier.
“What’s this?”
“Tommy, that’s–”
“You wrote a letter?” He looked over his shoulder toward her with a smirk. “And there are flowers. What are they for?”
Every fiber within her clenched. She watched him run a finger at the edge of the letter. Reena held her breath, fearing that he might flick it open. He looked back at her again with a rather impassioned glare.
She didn’t know what to do. He wasn’t supposed to find it now. It was stupid of her to leave it in there, but Tommy seldom touched things he’d find somewhere random, let alone open that damn drawer.
In a panic, she crawled and scooted to his side, snatching the book from his hand. Her heart hammered inside her chest, her heart skipping a beat as she watched his excited expression turn into confusion. With a sense of urgency, Reena straddled herself once more on his lap, and all the while, she frantically shoved the book back into the drawer, slamming it shut with a trembling hand.
“It’s my gift to you…” She wrapped her arms around his neck. “But you can’t read it until we’re in Las Venturas…”
“But why?”
“It’s… it’s a surprise.”
Tommy beamed snidely, then his arms wrapped around her waist. His sultry gaze darted from her eyes down to her lips, then her shoulders, and he began to kiss her skin, moving from left to right. His kisses grew deeper and more ardent with each pass, sending shivers down her spine. He pulled her closer, and Reena was forced to recline against his body, feeling the contrast of his cold, damp skin against her own.
“We’re finally leaving tomorrow… I promise you’ll love the place.” His breath burned on her bosom, kissing the top of her breast where her scars were.
In her mind, Reena vividly recalled the sensation of waking up in her bedroom in Angel Pine to the pale, gentle sunshine filtering through the cloudy windowpanes. The melodic tweets of birds outside painted the morning with an incandescent charm. Although the room retained a chilly edge despite the blanket draped over her shoulders, Reena knew that warmth would come swiftly as Claude stirred beside her, drawing her into a tender, comforting embrace.
She nodded and closed her eyes, allowing her imagination to transport her into a world where it was Claude who was trailing his teeth along the curve of her neck, nibbling her earlobe, and playfully pinching her ass. She envisioned his warm, smooth skin pressed intimately against hers, his breath teasing her ear as she snuggled closer. As the fantasy deepened, she held her breath, feeling the phantom touch of his fingers gently lifting the hems of her shirt in the safety of her reverie.
“I love you, baby…” Tommy said. “I’d never let you go…”
Not an ounce of her sanity believed that he loved her. He was a liar, taking advantage of her defencelessness, trying to turn the situation around so she’d believe him. Merchandise. That was what she was to him, someone he couldn’t and wouldn’t let go of because he owned her. And like the other transactions that he’d gotten into, she was just another deal that he was willing to bet all his resources on just to have and keep.
Claude wouldn’t leave her just like that. He wouldn’t give her up.
She needed to keep up her pretense.
“Kiss me,” she demanded.
Tommy claimed her lips fervently, parting her mouth with his zealous tongue.
She needed to let him think she was fine.
He pushed her to the bed, pinning her down on the mattress, and she didn’t resist.
“I need you,” she groaned against his cusps. “Make love to me…”
Everything would change. No matter how much it pained her heart to imagine what would happen beyond, she knew deep inside that she’d already decided. She had already chosen.
Reena lay steady as Tommy did everything he wanted, claiming her just like before, possessing every inch of her skin. He bent her at the edge of the bed, and Reena obliged, her body yielding to his command. He turned her around and fucked her from behind, and Reena caved in, her breath hitching with each thrust. He laid her flat on her back, his imposing presence looming over her, and Reena spread her legs, welcoming him in with compliance.
Tommy was too lost in the moment, too absorbed in his own blissful pleasure to notice the silence that enveloped her. He moaned and growled, his hips moving rhythmically against hers with an intensity that seemed to have been pent up for so long. The pain mingled with her passivity, her flesh stinging under his touch, but she uttered not a word, allowing the tears to stream down her cheeks, unnoticed by him.
Reena let him have his way, surrendering herself to his desires for the night. As he reached his climax, she found herself gazing at the moon outside the window, its light softly veiled by the drifting curtain. It lingered there, appearing almost sentient, the only witness to her indifference.
Chapter 106: Eloping
Notes:
Special thanks to my amazing friend s0uled_out for helping me reach the full potential of this penultimate chapter <3
Chapter Text
ESCOBAR INTERNATIONAL AIRPORT boasted three distinct terminals. The northern one was a block-shaped building with an underground entrance, while the southern terminal featured a unique plaited roof and expansive glass walls overlooking the runways. All three terminals had spacious, well-lit interiors, adorned with gleaming black marble floors stretched out endlessly, lined with lush indoor trees and plants. Metal detectors stood at every entrance, bag drop-off counters waited at the edges, and long escalators led to the boarding bridges on the second floor.
Tommy’s gaze swept across the airport, but it held neither delight nor nostalgia, at least not from what Reena could discern. Instead, a triumphant gleam shimmered in his eyes. Reena’s heart leaped in her chest when Tommy took her hand, his touch like a vice grip as he guided her toward the escalator.
She tugged her attention around, where the white beams of the airport’s interior pushed back the encroaching darkness of the rain-soaked world outside. Intermittent lightning danced across the horizon, often accompanied by distant rumbles of thunder, but these spectacles paled in comparison to the roaring rhythm of her own heart beating in her chest.
The cool air, which had turned even more frigid, crept around her, sending shivers down her spine, making her hair stand on end. Reena’s skin prickled as she navigated the airport, each step echoing in her mind. Tommy, seemingly sensing her discomfort, turned to her side, his once-confident smile withering. As he squeezed her hand, she could feel the subtle pressure of his fingers, kneading warmth into her icy fingertips.
Even Reena herself couldn’t escape the sensation of her own cold touch.
“Are you alright?” Tommy asked, his worry-filled gaze trained on her. “Do you want me to get you a sweater or something?”
Reena immediately shook her head, her lips feeling stiff. “No, I’m okay.” Her voice trembled slightly, betraying the chill that had seeped into her bones.
She swallowed down the massive lump in her throat that she couldn’t get rid of, no matter how hard she tried. The churning of her stomach, a queasy feeling that began to escalate, didn’t make things any better. Tommy’s gaze intensified as if he were attempting to decipher her thoughts. At best, Reena hoped Tommy would interpret her unease as her dislike of flying, something he’d known about her for so long, only worsening on a night with pouring rain. Huge droplets splattered against the enormous windows of the terminal, obscuring their vision and preventing them from clearly seeing the outside.
They located a seat to the side, quite far from the crowd, Tommy taking the lead. Mrs. Hubbard followed closely, her hand holding Cleo’s while she maneuvered Tamia’s stroller. Reena cast a furtive, nervous glance toward the elderly woman, who appeared to catch her unspoken message. With a deft motion, Mrs. Hubbard retrieved a chocolate bar from the knapsack and discreetly passed it to Cleo, an offering the boy eagerly accepted, his eyes lighting up with gratitude.
Not far from them were Marcus, Leigh, Mike, and four other men. The twins would be joining them on the trip, assisting in the settling-down process, and then returning to Vice City to manage the businesses that Tommy would entrust to their care.
Reena sat in the chair, her forehead beaded with cold sweat. She gently took Tamia from the stroller and settled her on her lap, her legs tapping softly on the floor. Her heart pounded in her chest, a growing sense of dread replacing her earlier calm – a feeling she couldn’t bring herself to admit.
A chime dinged all around, catching their attention.
As time ticked relentlessly, Reena’s gaze remained fixed on the flight screen. Her eyes darted from the digital display of the time to the information about the arriving flight. The minutes felt like an eternity as she anxiously awaited. Her fingers tapped impatiently on her wristwatch, the anticipation building with each passing second.
“This is an announcement for passengers on the flight RS04 to Las Venturas, San Andreas. The flight has been delayed due to inclement weather. The new estimated time is 8:10 PM. We apologize for the inconvenience. Thank you.”
It was subtle, but a palpable shift overtook Tommy’s demeanor after the announcement. He leaned forward, his brows furrowing deeply as he propped his elbows on his knees. His jaw clenched, and his lips thinned, revealing his mounting irritation. His gaze, sharp and piercing, swept across the terminal, conveying his unspoken message to Marcus with an almost impatient intensity, urging him to be vigilant. Marcus, in turn, demonstrated his understanding as he moved toward Leigh and the others, sharing a hushed conversation. In an instant, the men scattered.
Reena shut her eyes. She didn’t want to do it, but she had no choice. Her hand trembled as she considered the unthinkable, but she steeled herself and slid it toward Tamia’s thigh. With a heavy heart, she pinched her daughter as hard as she could.
To harm her children was the last thing she ever wanted to do, but then again, she did.
Tamia’s response was immediate and heart-wrenching. Her wails pierced the air, her tiny voice escalating in a crescendo that demanded the attention of every nearby passenger and airport staff member. Her face contorted, turning a fiery shade of red as her features scrunched in agony. It took her a moment to catch her breath, but when she did, her cries resumed with even greater intensity. Her little limbs flailed uncontrollably, and her hysterical wailing disrupted the serenity of the airport, drawing the concerned gaze of everyone around, particularly Tommy.
Reena’s heart sank as she watched her daughter’s distress unfold. Guilt gnawed at her. She’d never wanted to hurt her children, and the tears welled up in her eyes, blurring her vision.
I’m sorry, Mia. I’m really sorry.
“What’s going on?” Tommy asked, his agitation growing more evident at the moment. He reached out to take Tamia, but Reena shifted the baby to her other side, blocking his access.
With a feigned expression of concern, she pretended to peek into the girl’s diaper, her reaction exaggerated for effect. “I think she needs to change,” she said, stealing a quick, glance at Tommy.
“Now?!” he probed, appearing unconvinced.
“Yes,” she replied, her voice laced with urgency. “I already felt it while we were in the car.”
Tommy hesitated, his reluctance palpable. “Let Mrs. Hubbard change her,” he demanded, clearly unwilling to let Reena out of his sight.
Now was the right time to show her second antic.
Cleo’s face, hands, and shirt were filled with crumbs and molten chocolate. The once pristine outfit was now a smeared, sticky shirt. With a frown etched on her face, Reena turned her gaze back to Tommy, mustering every ounce of pleading she could muster in her eyes. “I need to change Cleo too, just look at him...” she implored.
“Did he just eat a candy?!”
Reena nodded, her heart rising to her throat. “Yeah, I gave him one…”
“You shouldn’t have–” Tommy began, his voice trailing off as he pressed his lips together. With a sweeping gesture of exasperation, he rose from his seat and moved toward the boy, attempting to take hold of him. However, it was impossible for Tommy to touch him without soiling himself, forcing him to step back. His frustration was palpable as he scratched his head vigorously.
“Mr. Vercetti, I’ll help Reena,” Mrs. Hubbard interjected.
The clock continued its relentless countdown, and the terminal began to stir with life. The spacious halls gradually transformed into bustling thoroughfares as the terminals swung open. From a distant corridor, a stream of disembarking passengers emerged, their presence gradually swelling like a rising tide.
She gazed at him with fervent, desperate eyes. “Please, Tommy. We’ll be quick, I promise.”
Tommy shifted his gaze from the little boy to Reena and back again. He seemed adamant about not letting her leave his side, let alone take the children with her, but when he took a slow, disappointed breath, Reena knew she got the chance she was aiming for.
“Alright,” he grumbled under his breath.
Reena rose from her seat, placed her purse down, and put on the knapsack before lifting Tamia to her chest. However, just as she prepared to step away, a subtle sensation enveloped her… like a shockwave shooting from her feet up to her heart, compelling her to turn back around.
The last time. The last time.
With a tender gesture, she cupped the side of Tommy’s face, and, rising on her tiptoes, Reena placed a soft, affectionate kiss on his cheek.
“Thank you, Tommy,” she murmured.
Each step she took away from him felt like a relentless tug on her heartstrings, threatening to yank her back into a world that was slipping through her fingers. The years of companionship that had gradually transformed into a fiery love and the sense of safety that had anchored her so securely had suddenly unraveled, dispersing like fragile dust in the wind. The hands that once touched her soul, the lips that had whispered sweet assurances to her heart, and the eyes that had once penetrated the depths of her being now seemed painful and suffocating.
The chime dinged once more, the announcement slurred in her ears. Reena held her crying daughter in her arms, and to her side, Mrs. Hubbard seemed to do the same with Cleo.
People began to surge, transforming the once peaceful airport into a bustling hub. The massive halls filled with passengers, their trolleys and baggage in tow, the tiled floors echoing with the shuffling of their feet and hushed conversations. Reena’s steps quickened, and Mrs. Hubbard matched her pace, seamlessly blending into the impenetrable crowd that stretched into the distance.
It was time.
Mrs. Hubbard kept on casting a quick glance over her shoulder, but Reena nudged her arm, a silent urge to discourage her from doing so. Reena, with her gaze fixed ahead, seized Mrs. Hubbard’s hand and dragged her into the crowd, putting more distance between them and Tommy and his men.
A scream pierced the air, hearing her name being called from afar, but Reena paid no heed, her focus fixed on their escape. She and Mrs. Hubbard pressed on, deftly weaving through the terminal, utilizing the crowd as their shield. Waves of people appeared, surging into the halls, providing them with even more cover. Though her steps faltered, Reena clung tightly to Mrs. Hubbard’s hand. She transferred Tamia into the elderly woman’s arms and took hold of Cleo, continuing to forge ahead without pause.
They bolted down the escalator and jostled past stationary passengers, bumping into them amid the chaos of their escape. The disoriented onlookers shot them quizzical and resentful glances, but Reena and Mrs. Hubbard didn’t mind. Upon reaching the ground floor, Reena quickly stole a glance over her shoulder, spotting Marcus’s towering frame above the crowd, rushing down the escalator. Simultaneously, on the balcony above, Tommy’s men were scrambling, bumping into bewildered passengers as they hurried to narrow the gap.
“They’re coming!” Mrs. Hubbard cried in a strained voice.
For a moment, Reena felt utterly disoriented. They’d managed to get away, what now? Would she just let them catch up again and drag her back to Tommy?
Just then, a couple of airport staff carrying cleaning tools emerged from a hall, leading to a two-door entrance. Reacting swiftly, Reena pulled Mrs. Hubbard toward the door with a massive and imposing AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY sign. They stepped into a silent corridor that seemed to close in around them, intensifying the pressure mounting in their heads. Reena moved forward, ready to disregard anyone who dared to impede their path.
Doors flanked them on both sides while flickering lights ahead cast an eerie, disorienting haze over the surroundings. It felt like they were trapped in a labyrinth, with no discernible exits, no guiding signs, and dark walls that seemed to converge on them at every turn.
“Reena! There’s a fire exit over there!” Mrs. Hubbard’s voice broke through the atmosphere. She swiftly followed as the elderly woman sprinted toward the fire exit, a crimson light flickering atop the door, signaling their potential path to safety.
As they pushed through the fire exit, the door swung open with an echoing creak, revealing a tight staircase descending into the depths below. The air grew cooler as they descended, the clamor of the airport above gradually fading into a distant hum.
The sound of heavy footfalls reverberated across the floor, originating from the very hall they’d just traversed.
They descended without a clear sense of direction, their steps guided more by fear than a precise destination. While it might have seemed senseless, Reena clung to the hope that persistence would eventually lead them in the right direction.
A vast and dimly lit expanse where rows of cars stood greeted them at the very bottom. The concrete walls and pillars cast elongated shadows, giving the space an eerie atmosphere.
Reena’s breath hitched with both relief and trepidation. The escape was far from over, but for now, finding themselves in the underground parking lot provided a moment of respite. She exchanged a glance with Mrs. Hubbard, their eyes conveying the unspoken acknowledgment that the threat of being caught was still looming around.
The damp, stagnant air in the underground parking lot held a compelling quality, starkly contrasting the prominent scent of spices and orchids from the terminal. Its natural, musty odor was accentuated by the murky water trickling from the moldy ceiling and walls, forming a disconcerting tableau.
In the near emptiness of the area, the echoes of their footsteps amplified the sense of desolation. Reena panted heavily, her breaths coming in ragged bursts as she frantically scanned the surroundings in search of the Landstalker. Her gaze darted from left to right, her heart pounding so fiercely that it felt like it might burst from her chest at any moment.
As they rounded a corner, they were met with yet another empty expanse, prompting them to halt in their tracks. Mrs. Hubbard leaned against the wall, doubling over to catch her breath, her struggle to breathe audible in the stillness.
Reena knelt on one knee, gently touching Mrs. Hubbard’s back with concern. “Are you okay, Mrs. Hubbard?”
The elderly woman coughed and wheezed, her condition causing Reena to worry even more. “I... I can’t breathe...”
“Just a little bit more,” Reena urged. She stood, a grunt escaping her lips as she carried Tamia into her arms. Then, she held onto Cleo’s soiled hands, the boy gazing up at them with innocent curiosity, oblivious to the situation. She gazed at the next corner, just across from them. “We just need to get there.”
“You have to leave me here–”
“No! Tommy will find you!”
At the mere mention of Tommy’s name, Mrs. Hubbard’s eyes widened in alarm, her grip on Reena’s arm tightening to the point of pain. They hastily crossed the area, constantly scanning their surroundings with caution, their backs pressed against the unknown.
Reena clutched Tamia in her left arm, her maternal instinct kicking into high gear as she tightly held Cleo’s hand with her right. The young boy was already in motion, nearly stumbling in his eagerness to keep pace.
“Mama! Ouch!”
“I’m sorry baby, we’re almost there!”
They just needed to make it to the third section.
“Reena!”
She gasped as Tommy’s thunderous voice echoed through the musty basement, stealing the air from her lungs. Horror filled her chest as she swiftly scooped up Cleo, clutching both her children tightly in her arms. With a surge of adrenaline, she and Mrs. Hubbard dashed to the far end, desperate to evade her husband and his henchmen, who seemed to be closing in fast.
It was a vain shot. Regardless of their efforts, it seemed inevitable that Tommy would eventually close in on them. He might not have located them yet, but the echoes of their labored breathing, hurried footsteps, and the occasional cries of her children served as a trail that would lead him to their whereabouts.
As they reached a corner that seemed to lead to a dead end, a bone-chilling sensation washed over Reena. Her arms trembled with fatigue, but she held her children tight. Swallowing hard to ease the lump in her parched throat, she turned to face the ominous dead end. However, her heart nearly stopped when the unmistakable sound of approaching footsteps reverberated toward them.
“Shit,” she muttered under her breath.
What was she going to do? Run? With the two kids in her arms and a breathless old woman? The air that surrounded her felt stiffer, aggravating her lungs with torturous density.
The footsteps became louder, heavier, closer…
“Dear, what are we gonna do–”
Every muscle in her body locked up as a figure emerged from the direction they’d been heading.
Reena had grown accustomed to Tommy’s constant presence over the years. She’d always felt safe with him, but now, she realized she’d never felt as relieved as when she was with Claude. His eyes locked onto hers, brimming with overwhelming longing. In an instant, all the air she’d been holding in her chest escaped from her mouth in a sigh of relief as she saw him standing not too far away.
“Claude!”
He sprinted toward her, sweeping them all into his arms, enveloping Reena, Cleo, and Tamia in a warm, protective embrace. For a fleeting moment, she’d feared he was nowhere to be found, that he’d given up and abandoned her once more, but she was wrong. Claude had stayed. Claude had waited. And in that desperate moment, she couldn’t have been more grateful for his presence.
“I got you…” he mumbled in her ear. “I got you…”
She nodded, her face pressed against his chest, unable to return the full embrace he enveloped them in. His chest felt warm and reassuring, easing the fear and tension that had seized her. He gently planted a kiss on her forehead, and she nestled closer, savoring the sensation she’d longed for and finally found in his arms.
“I thought you already left,” she sobbed, and the emotions she subdued began teeming.
He shook his head. “I told you, I’ll come back for you…”
Claude released her and gently scooped Cleo into his arms, relieving her of the weight she had been carrying. His fingers brushed against her face, tenderly wiping away the tears that had streamed down her cheeks.
“You must go now!” Mrs. Hubbard suddenly shouted in a whisper.
“What about you? Come with us–”
The elderly woman pushed her with surprising force. “Go, all of you! I can take care of myself!” Her eyes bore a forlorn expression, but her desperation to push them away was overwhelming. Mrs. Hubbard smiled through her own tears, cupped Reena’s cheek, and pressed a loving kiss on her and Tamia’s foreheads. She then approached Cleo, gently holding the boy’s face and placing a tender kiss on his cheek. Looking up at Claude, she briefly touched his arm and smiled at him. “Don’t let any harm come to her and the kids, okay?”
Claude nodded. “Thank you for helping them.”
Mrs. Hubbard waved a hand. “Now, go!” She pushed Reena once more. “Go!”
Their hands tightly interlocked, Reena and Claude darted out of the dead-end and into the parking lot. Claude led the way, guiding her with a gentle yet resolute pull, much like the way he’d held her hand before they had leaped from the scaffold. It felt as if they were racing toward a finish line, catching a fleeting glimpse of success just a few strides ahead. Reena’s clasp on Claude’s hand tightened, vowing to never let him go.
Upon reaching the vehicle, Reena swiftly opened the backseat door, and her eyes widened in astonishment as she spotted two infant seats neatly installed there.
“8-Ball helped me,” Claude said, seemingly sensing her wonder.
Reena moved with haste to tuck Cleo and Tamia securely into their seats, fastening the straps to ensure their safety and comfort while placing the knapsack beneath the seat. Claude lent a helping hand in settling the children. As the kids sat snugly, Reena leaned in to plant a kiss on each of their foreheads before closing the backseat door.
They were on the verge of moving to the front seats when Claude’s eyes widened with shock, his fingers gripping her arms with palpable intensity. In an instant, Reena spun around, her heart jumping as she realized the source of Claude’s alarming attention.
Leigh stood there, his breaths coming in ragged gasps, his body tense and quivering, a gun clutched tightly in his trembling hand.
“Get in the car,” Claude whispered.
“Leigh,” she pleaded, her voice shuddering. “Please, don’t do this...”
“Reena, get in the car–”
“Are you sure about this, Miss?!” Leigh’s voice cut through the tense silence. He advanced slowly, both hands gripping the gun. His glare was fixed on Claude, a wave of palpable anger radiating from him, and yet Reena clung to the last flicker of hope that maybe, just maybe, Leigh would heed her words.
Defying Claude’s urgent command, Reena stepped in front of him, effectively blocking Leigh’s line of sight and aiming. “You’re not going to hurt him,” she declared.
Leigh’s expression remained hardened. “What makes you think I’ll listen to you this time?!”
“I don’t,” Reena conceded, her voice filled with desperation. “But I’m begging you–”
Leigh tossed his gun in her direction, the weapon skidding to a halt near her feet. Reena stood there in confusion, struggling to comprehend his intentions, until he closed the distance, stepping only a few paces away from them, his presence looming close to the car concealing the Landstalker.
“You!” Leigh called out to Claude, jabbing a finger in his direction, and then, he pointed at his side. “Shoot me here.”
Reena’s face contorted with disbelief. “What?!”
“Stop asking questions, just shoot me!” Leigh pressed urgently.
Claude retrieved the gun and aimed it at Leigh. Reena wanted to protest, but Claude covered her face and pulled her close. All she could manage was a flinch as the deafening gunshot reverberated through the entire parking lot, its explosive sound echoing in the fetid hallways.
Leigh crumpled to the ground, his body writhing in agony as his side bled. Blood cascaded onto the cold, concrete pavement, creating a pool beneath his body.
“Shit!” Leigh cursed through gritted teeth, shaking his head in frustration. His eyes locked into Reena’s. “What are you waiting for?! Go! Now!”
Mrs. Hubbard had made a sacrifice to help them, fully aware of the grave danger she might face in aiding her escape. Despite her initial reluctance, the elderly woman had gone out of her way to provide support, selflessly putting her own life on the line to protect Reena and her children.
And now, looking at Leigh, Reena finally comprehended why he’d chosen to remain silent the day before. A flood of memories surged through her mind, replaying all the instances when he’d offered his support. From her therapy sessions to her check-ups, from her defiant departure from Asuka’s condominium in search of 8-Ball to her relentless quest to uncover Tommy’s secrets, and even during her meeting with Ken Rosenberg – throughout all those moments, Leigh had never once betrayed her trust. He had never snitched on her, never turned his back on her, even in the face of imminent danger.
Allowing them to escape had been one thing, but instructing Claude to shoot him was an entirely different matter.
“Miss, don’t let me bleed to death here, goddamn it...” Leigh groaned in pain. “Go now... they’d be here any moment...”
“Leigh–” Reena dropped to her knees and reached for his bloody hand. Despite the agony etched on his face, the henchman managed to force out a smile, a genuine one that touched Reena deeply. “You’re crazy...” she sobbed, tears streaming down her face uncontrollably.
“I was gonna ask him to beat me up, but I guess this is enough...”
A hand gently touched the crook of her elbow, pulling her attention away. “Reena, let’s go.”
With one last, hesitant look at Leigh, Reena reluctantly rose to her feet. She followed Claude to the car, and while she climbed into the passenger seat, she observed Claude exchange a firm nod with Leigh.
Claude slipped beside her, swiftly inserting the key into the ignition. The engine roared to life, casting a brilliant burst of light that pierced through the darkness ahead. He shifted into reverse, the vehicle smoothly gliding away from its parked position before expertly maneuvering into the driveway.
A fierce gust of wind lashed against the windshield, pelting it with torrents of rain as they made their daring escape. The wipers battled tirelessly to keep up with the deluge, their rhythmic dance mirroring the tension in the car. Emerging from the stifling confines of the underground parking lot, Reena remained vigilant, her eyes trained on the side-view mirror, anxiously searching for any sign of a pursuing vehicle as they raced away from the airport.
Past the junction, traffic would be cleared out. Once they crossed that bridge, they’d be out of Vice City, and no one could stop them anymore from where they were heading.
Reena turned around to check on her children, finding their innocent faces looking back at her. She forced a comforting smile and reached out for their hands when suddenly, as she raised her head, she felt her breath hitch.
Blinding headlights flickered menacingly behind them, their intensity undeterred by the relentless downpour. Panic surged within Reena, a tight knot constricting her chest. As if their minds aligned, Claude tensed in his seat, his knuckles turning white as he clutched the steering wheel and seized the gear shift.
With her whole body shaking, Reena reached out to Cleo and Tamia, ensuring their seatbelt straps were securely fastened. Then, she cast a hurried look down at her own buckle, double-checking its tightness. She gazed at Claude, her eyes locked on him. He, on the other hand, was focused on the road ahead, his jaw clenching in the shadows.
“Hold on tight,” he commanded, and Reena found herself obliging.
Their car surged faster, and so did their pursuers. Blaring horns and the unsettling screech of tires on the wet road, accompanied by splashing water, filled the air, adding to the tension that gripped them like a vise.
But Claude didn’t seem to have an intention of stopping.
In a swift motion, Claude shifted gears, dashing into the oncoming traffic. One of the pursuing cars drove beside them, its driver rolling down the window and brandishing a gun. Claude steered their vehicle into the intruder’s path, resulting in a harrowing clash of metal against metal and tire against the tire. As Claude struggled to keep the Landstalker from slipping, the opposing driver was forced to wrestle with his steering wheel, desperately slowing down, until it drifted uncontrollably on the watery road and crashed on the fence that separated the streets and the highway.
With determination etched on Claude’s face, he navigated the Landstalker through the chaotic traffic at the junction. The deafening cacophony of earsplitting horns, the rhythmic thumping of the windshield wipers against the relentless rain, and the distant wails of sirens merged into a cacophony. He veered toward the wrong lane, almost colliding with an incoming sedan had he not gotten back on the right track. Angry drivers responded with fury, but Claude’s attention remained indomitable.
Carefully, Claude guided their vehicle out of the traffic jam. The Landstalker accelerated onto the bridge, leaving one of their pursuers stranded in the congested mess behind them. Reena could feel her tense muscles slowly relaxing as they put some distance between themselves and their chasers, their Landstalker now racing toward the unknown, the rain-drenched bridge stretching out ahead like a beacon of hope.
As they were just about to slow down due to the apparent loss of friction, a glaring light burst behind them. The deafening roar of engines grew thunderous, and Reena’s heart leaped to her throat as she watched a second car close in. Without a moment’s hesitation, she hastily unbuckled her own seatbelt and catapulted herself into the backseat, squeezing herself between Cleo and Tamia. She enfolded them in an embrace, holding them close as Cleo’s tiny hands clung to her blouse and Tamia’s tears streamed down her skin.
A sudden impact jolted the Landstalker forward, hurling Reena and her children against their seatbelts. The pursuer aggressively bumped their tail, causing the vehicle to lurch violently. Their small bodies were almost tossed, their screams echoing in the confined space as Reena desperately held onto them, trying to shield them from the mayhem.
Their heart-wrenching cries shattered her heart into a thousand pieces.
The rain-soaked asphalt blurred beneath them, and out of nowhere, bullets whizzed through the air, creating panic in the car. Cleo and Tamia screamed in terror, their little voices and hysterical cries drowned out by the gunshot noises that ricocheted against the ground.
Tommy’s men were shooting their tires, a desperate attempt to force them to stop.
It became a chaos of lights and steel, perilous strikes of bullets ringing ominously, a sense of impending doom hanging thick in the air that made Reena grip her children like there was no tomorrow. Her eyes shot forward, meeting Claude’s glare in the rearview mirror, a silent understanding coursing through their knowing glances.
The pursuing car drew perilously close, its driver relentless in the chase, closing in for another attempt to ram them. With the looming threat of a collision, Claude made a split-second decision, executing a daring maneuver that sent the Landstalker teetering dangerously close to the bridge’s railings, urging the pursuer to follow. As he slid back on track, the pursuing car careened wildly, its tires protesting against the sudden twist of fate as it collided with a nearby pole. The crash was deafening, a symphony of metal and glass, and it spiraled out of control, enveloped in a swirling cloud of thick debris and driving rain. Its headlights flickered and sputtered, plunging the scene into momentary darkness as it came to a shuddering, final halt.
Raindrops trickled down the windows, distorting the view of the world beyond. Reena, her hands still trembling, stroked her children’s hair gently, murmuring soothing words into their ears. Cleo and Tamia’s cries had gradually subsided, leaving behind a heavy silence that contrasted with the storm.
It ceased, at least for the time being, leaving them to drive alone across the bridge.
Leaving a quick, reassuring kiss on her children’s heads, Reena reluctantly tore herself away and returned to her seat beside Claude. She hurriedly strapped herself back into the passenger seat, her heart still pounding as she listened to the fading wails of distant sirens, their red and blue lights flickering like distant stars on the horizon.
Claude stepped on the gas pedal, pushing their car to move forward. Her trembling hand clutched Claude’s firmly on the gear shift, her breath quivering with every inhalation. His fingers felt icy cold, their touch rough and calloused, yet there was nothing else in the world she wished to hold onto.
The tension in the car began to ebb, replaced by a fragile sense of respite as they put some distance between themselves and their assailants, when, all of a sudden, Claude was forced to step on the brake.
Under the unrelenting storm, an Esperanto blocked their path on the road, its headlights blazing like untamed beasts in the night. Those fierce beams matched the vicious intensity of Tommy’s eyes as he stood in their way. In his hand, Tommy held a pistol, its ominous presence undeniable as he slowly raised it and aimed it in their direction.
His glare pierced through Reena, rendering her frozen in her car seat.
The Landstalker roared back to life, spewing smoke in all directions. Reena felt every vibration below her, making it certain that Claude wasn’t hesitating. Tires screeched in a high-pitched yowl as he floored the gas pedal, propelling the car forward, while Tommy remained rooted in the middle of the road, seemingly resolute not to leave the spot.
What was he trying to do? Reena knew he wasn’t going to shoot. Did he want to kill himself?
Tommy had often told her he’d die if she ever left him.
She wouldn’t let it happen.
With her heart in her throat, Reena gripped the steering wheel and yanked it to the side, swerving their car away from Tommy. Claude fought to regain control as the Landstalker’s tires squealed against the wet road, but the momentum was unyielding. The sudden turn sent them into a chaotic spin in the middle of the rain-soaked road, the screeching of tires against the pavement drowning out all the other sounds, even of the rain… even of the beating of her heart.
Reena didn’t let Tommy kill Claude, and she wouldn’t let Claude kill Tommy.
Their car came to a stop just right past the Esperanto. Rain cascaded down its glistening surface, and the tires, still trembling from the spin, settled into a slow, rhythmic rotation. Steam wisped from the hood, and the engine emitted a low, strained hum as it idled, proof of the intensity of its recent struggle.
She had avoided him. Claude, initially stunned by her actions, seemed to have come to his senses and continued driving.
As the Landstalker hurtled past Tommy, time seemed to slow to a crawl. Reena’s eyes locked onto his, and a whirlwind of emotions engulfed her. She felt guilt welling up within her, a profound sorrow for the man she’d once loved.
And Tommy? He stared at her, and his eyes… they were filled with a vulnerability that she’d never seen before.
A silent plea to stay. A desperate cry to not let go of what they had.
But Reena couldn’t do it.
Her eyes remained glued on the side view mirror, and from the distance, Tommy’s men arrived. As she and Claude moved farther and faster away from the bridge, she saw Marcus lift a gun. But then, just as their figures disappeared, she caught a glimpse of Tommy pushing Marcus’s arm down.
Reena turned her gaze away, letting her tears fall in utter silence.
The miles stretched out behind them, and as the lights of Vice City faded into the distance, a mix of pain and relief swept over Reena. This was the price she had to pay, the heart she had to break to be free.
Love, despite everything, still flickered for Tommy in the depths of her heart. It was a love that had been buried beneath, a love that refused to die completely. Yet, his betrayal seethed in her veins like poison, a reminder of the years she spent thinking that Claude was gone. In Tommy’s arms, she was lured by his suffocating embrace. On Tommy’s lips, she was kissed with his lies. In Tommy’s eyes, she was blindsided, shrouding her vision from the truth.
Tommy took away her ability to forgive him.
She knew that Tommy was capable of doing anything and everything for her, but that wasn’t what she wanted. She didn’t need his everything. What she needed was the truth, and Tommy had denied it to her repeatedly, a pattern that would have continued had she not uncovered everything.
He had to let her go. Reena felt as though she’d robbed him of something. She knew and she could feel it… the kind of a mess Tommy was already in, but he left her with no other choice.
No, in fact, he gave her a choice, and she had chosen.
It was Claude, always, and there was no coming back from it.
She glanced at the rearview mirror, seeing Cleo and Tamia holding each other’s hand, their focus fixated on the passing scenery by the window. Pressing her lips together, Reena bowed her head, finding solace in the act of holding onto her jeans, seeking some semblance of comfort until a warm, calloused hand enveloped her knuckles.
Reena looked in Claude’s direction. Beneath the drizzles were the city’s night lights flickering like a mesmerizing dance against the skyline. The rain began to recede, its fading sound creating an almost surreal atmosphere, muffling the gentle taps on the car’s roof.
His hand squeezed hers, reassuring her without a word that everything would be alright.
As her emotions threatened to spill, Reena rested her head on Claude’s shoulder, breathing slowly as she contemplated the journey that lay ahead. It was undeniably daunting, but she found solace in the idea of facing this fear now with the man she truly loved rather than spending the rest of her life with someone she thought she knew.
The perils of their situation would never truly leave them, and they’d be looking over their shoulders for the rest of their lives. But for now, now that they were finally out of Vice City, Reena allowed herself to live in the moment.
Chapter 107: Together Again
Notes:
This chapter is inspired by my friend s0uled_out's gift fic to me, Anywhere. Thank you, you awesome person!
Chapter Text
THE DESERT ROAD stretched out endlessly, a winding highway cutting through the arid expanse. On the horizon, the rock monuments of Bone County rose like ancient sentinels, their imposing forms looming larger as they drew nearer. Claude felt a tinge of nostalgia, the memories of stone giants etched into his mind from over a decade ago.
And now, with their destination almost within reach but still days of driving ahead, he decided it was time for a much-needed break.
A small motel stood in the middle of the hundreds of miles long desert road, its parking space almost filled. Claude pulled over in the corner-most spot, their car humming gently to a stop. He watched Reena step out of the car, Tamia cradled in her arms. Cleo, with Reena’s assistance, jumped from the car floor to the rugged ground below. The boy’s abrupt landing stirred the dusty ground, prompting him to rub his irritated eyes with his tiny fists.
The fine particles hung in the air, catching the golden rays of the setting sun, painting the scene in a hazy, amber glow.
“I think this would do,” Reena declared, her voice soft but resolute. As she strolled around the car’s hood, Claude extended a hand toward Cleo. He left the choice to the young boy, who hesitated for a moment but decided not to take his hand. Instead, his son ran toward Reena and clung to her leg.
With a wistful smile, Claude turned his attention to the vast desert landscape surrounding them. Jagged rock formations loomed on the horizon, their massive shadows growing longer as the day waned. “Just for a couple of days,” he told her, then his gaze lingered on the baby in her arms. “Do you need help?”
Reena shook her head. “It’s fine. I can take care of them. You don’t have to worry.”
Touching the small of her back, Claude picked up the knapsack they had along with his backpack. He then guided them to the front porch of the motel. As he pushed the door, a subtle aroma of herbs and flowers enveloped them upon entering. The reception area proved rather snug, offering limited space for multiple guests at once, leaving the four of them cramped in the narrow passageway leading to the clerk’s desk.
The clerk, an elderly woman, cast a somewhat indifferent glance in their direction. “Booking a room?” she inquired.
“Yes. What’s available?” Claude responded.
“That one,” she replied, pointing at a photograph on the wall. The image depicted a small room with two single beds, a bathroom, and a two-seat table featuring a flat-screen television suspended above it. “A hundred bucks per night.”
Stunned, Claude was left speechless, contemplating the price they had to pay for their short stay. He hesitated, his hand hovering over his pocket.
“You won’t find another inn with available rooms around here for at least four hundred miles,” the woman mumbled as she continued chewing on something.
“We’re taking it…” Reena intervened, sliding three hundred dollars across the counter.
“I have money,” Claude whispered, a sense of shame creeping into his stomach.
“It’s okay. Save it,” she said, touching his arm briefly. “We’ll need it when we get to the next state…”
With a nonchalant gesture, the clerk tossed a key onto the counter. “There you go. Two turns to the left, Room 506.”
The room they were given wasn’t exactly what the picture showed, but Claude knew better than to expect luxury from a motel in the middle of nowhere. As they entered, a pungent smell of fresh bleach overwhelmed his senses. Reena promptly opened all the windows and left the door ajar to help dissipate the odor. Whoever had cleaned the room had done so in haste, neglecting to wipe it down thoroughly.
This wasn’t what he thought he’d give them. They deserved better. Reena deserved better. Claude couldn’t help but feel frustration welling up within him, even though he knew she would never complain. Despite his unrest, Reena seemed content and relaxed. Her smile remained constant as she settled Cleo and Tamia on one of the beds in the room. He assisted her in giving the children a quick bath, and they seemed to relish the short shower before eagerly returning to the bed.
“Go on, I’ll look after them,” he urged her.
“Are you sure?”
Claude nodded firmly. He wanted to give her a smile, but he couldn’t.
“I’ll be quick, I promise…”
Reena didn’t need much convincing, clearly sharing his desire for a quick escape. She wasted no time and headed into the bathroom, starting the shower. His attention then shifted to the two children on the bed. Cleo’s eyes brimmed with curiosity, his gaze seemingly pondering who Claude was.
He yearned to touch his son, but apprehension held him back. What if Cleo got scared or started crying? How would he handle it?
Cleo’s curiosity appeared to grow, prompting him to carefully slide off the bed and explore the room. Claude remained perplexed, almost paralyzed by the situation. He watched as Cleo wandered around, touching various objects in the room – the drawers, the table, and the chairs. The boy eventually circled the bed, stopping right in front of Claude, tugging at his jeans.
Claude knew what he should be doing – he should be bending down to pick up his son, making an effort to connect with him. Yet, for some reason, he found himself frozen in place, unable to move a muscle.
“Where’s Papa?” the boy asked.
A sudden, piercing pain gripped Claude’s chest, spreading throughout his body. He heard Cleo’s slurred question, and it hit him hard. He was searching for his father – his papa – despite Claude standing right in front of him.
His stomach imploded. If only he hadn’t insisted that they keep his fate hidden from Reena… if only he’d allowed them to tell him about her carrying their child… if only he’d spent those years being a part of their lives instead of wallowing in self-pity… maybe, just maybe, Cleo would be calling him Papa instead of Tommy.
The boy seemed to understand that he wouldn’t get an answer, so he released his grip on Claude’s jeans and toddled over to the bathroom door. Light seeped through the gap beneath it, casting a faint glow on the floor. Cleo patted his small hands against the door. “Mama?”
“I’ll be out in a minute, babe…”
A wet touch on his finger startled Claude. He looked down at the bed and saw the baby lying on her back, reaching out for his hand with her tiny, damp fingers. For a moment, Claude stared through those dark brown eyes that gazed at him with innocence. The baby cooed and kicked on the mattress before releasing his finger. She curled her hand into a little fist and placed it in her mouth, contentedly sucking on it.
Claude sat beside her and reached out to her little face. Her cheek felt incredibly soft under his thumb. The baby gazed at him with an unfathomable expression. Then, something began to tug at his lips, causing them to curve upward involuntarily. The subtle loss he’d felt earlier when he realized he’d missed the entirety of Cleo’s growth was now replaced by a flicker of delight as he looked at Reena’s daughter.
Perhaps, this was what it was like to have a little one.
The door to the bathroom opened, and Reena emerged, a small towel wrapped around her head. She bent down and lifted Cleo by the crook of his shoulders, bringing him close to her chest.
“Where’s Papa?” Cleo pouted once more.
Reena’s eyes blinked, and her face flushed with embarrassment. “Did he give you a hard time?” she asked, throwing Claude a brief glance. He knew they were both thinking about the same thing. She looked even more ashamed as she approached the bed, sitting on the edge near him. She gently placed Cleo on her lap, facing Claude. “That’s Papa,” she whispered into Cleo’s ear.
He reached out to caress Cleo’s cheek as well, his touch almost hesitant. Then, he looked down once more, seeing the baby looking at him. She had a radiant face, just like Reena. “Tamia’s her name, right?” he asked.
Reena’s lips trembled as she beamed, then she stroked the baby’s head slowly. “Yeah.”
“You got a thing for beautiful names.”
Claude watched Reena as she cradled her babies in her arms, both of their heads lying against her skin as she sang them a lullaby. In no time, the children dozed off, visibly spent. Whenever Tamia moved and fussed, Reena would snuggle her close, pulling her to her chest, tapping her thighs lightly, humming her back to sleep. Cleo, on the other hand, was a bit more restless in bed. He often moved and slid away, almost reaching the edge of the bed and nearly falling despite having a pillow to barricade his side. Reena would reach out for him and tug him closer to her and the girl.
A few moments of silence blurred into another, and soon, Reena had also fallen asleep.
Claude wanted to lie beside her, have her head on his arm, just like how the little ones were nestled against her. But for some reason, something was stopping him. He stood in the corner with his arms folded across his chest, transfixed at watching her chest rise and fall, yet feeling no strength to reach out and touch her.
His heart ached to taste her lips, smell her hair, and feel her warmth, but he couldn’t bring himself to get close, not even by an inch.
In frustration, Claude left his spot and went to the bathroom.
The water was a soothing balm, a gentle embrace that cradled his weary body. It worked its magic, coaxing away the pain and stiffness that had settled in his muscles after the relentless hours of driving across the vast expanse of the Mainland, heading toward the state toll gates. Every ache and twinge gradually ebbed away, leaving only faint remnants of soreness in his calves and shoulder blades. Claude had relented twice during their nearly three-day journey, allowing Reena to take the wheel for a few hours each time. He’d resisted initially, not wanting her to bear the burden, but she insisted, and his fatigued body gave in to the demands of exhaustion.
They couldn’t stop, so they never did unless needed.
The moments of pulling over at gas stations for Reena to care for the children and grant them respite from their arduous journey were a hazy blur in his memory. She never hampered him with their needs. Instead, she urged him to rest and have some sleep in the car while she tended to the children. Remarkably, both Cleo and Tamia had been on their best behavior throughout the ordeal, with the baby only resorting to tears when she craved her mother’s attention.
Needless to say, Claude was utterly captivated by Reena’s grace. Whenever he attempted to lend a hand, she’d already devised a solution, making everything appear smoother and more manageable.
He stood before the mist-covered mirror, the stream of hot water flowing into the adjacent shower. It had been nearly three years since he last examined his own reflection with such intensity. In prison and during his time at the hotel with Ken Rosenberg, mirrors had been present, but he’d harbored such disdain for them, and for himself, that he avoided even a cursory glance. But now, he peered into his own eyes, as though searching the depths of his soul.
The soft orange light bathed the room, casting a gentle glow that, while not blinding, seemed to fog his vision. Before long, the entire mirror succumbed to the rising steam, obscuring his reflection entirely. Grateful for the opportunity to no longer see the old version of himself, he took the blade and began to trim his facial hair. With each stroke, it snapped through the overgrown strands like brittle twigs on a dead branch. However, his hands trembled uncontrollably, causing him to accidentally nick himself and drop the blade into the sink.
I’m fucking up everything.
Was this truly what he wanted for them? He took them away from the comforts of their lives, uprooted them from their home, and severed their ties with a man who could provide them with anything. Did they deserve to endure the hardships and uncertainties he had faced for so long? Why had he allowed his own selfish desires to dictate their fate–
“Claude?”
His surprise at Reena’s voice jolted him from his thoughts, and he realized that he’d been wallowing that he hadn’t noticed her presence.
She approached him, standing in front of him, and gently touched his face, tilting it slightly to get a better look at the wound. Her soft touch sent a shiver down his spine. Reena turned on the faucet and let the water flow, wetting her hand. She then raised her hand to his chin, delicately wiping the cut that stung upon her touch. Claude remained still, captivated by every movement of her lips and eyes. Afterward, she retrieved the razor from the sink and faced him, her eyes filled with concern.
“Let me help you,” she offered softly.
Reena began to shave away the thick hair on Claude’s face. She held his head steady, carefully maneuvering the sharp blade over the unruly growth that had nearly concealed his lips. As she worked, the cut hairs fell to the floor, and occasionally, she’d go over the same area, ensuring that no remnants of the overgrowth remained. When she reached near his ears, she didn’t trim too high, preserving his sideburns at their previous length, just as they used to be. She tenderly ran the razor over the curve of his chin, clearing every inch of his skin.
Claude’s gaze remained fixed on her. Her eyes revealed the distress she felt at seeing him in such a state. Throughout their journey, whenever he had rested, he’d often awaken to her touch, snapping him out of whatever nightmare had gripped him in his sleep. She’d soothed him and offered words of reassurance, promising him that everything was alright. Each time she did this, he’d indeed find peace, but he couldn’t ignore the fact that she, too, was troubled, anxious, and frightened deep down.
Yet, she was trying to be strong.
Claude’s reverie was interrupted by her sobs. She had completed shaving his beard and mustache, and her eyes glistened with a profound sense of joy. With her lower lip caught between her teeth, she cupped his cheeks and ran her hands across his face.
“I can’t believe I’m touching you right now…” she whimpered.
Claude seized her hands and pressed them against his lips, showering her palms with a cascade of kisses.
“If this is a dream, I don’t wanna wake up.” She shut her eyes tight. “Am I with you?”
“Yes, yes…”
A sigh of relief escaped her lips, causing them to tremble as she opened her eyes once more. Claude watched as her reluctance seemed to dissipate, and he could no longer restrain himself from drawing her nearer.
Now, he realized what was keeping him away. It was the fact that he was scared she wouldn’t reciprocate.
Grasping the back of her neck, Claude lowered his head and captured her lips, savoring the warmth of her kiss.
In prison, there was not a day that Claude hadn’t thought about her. She was his most cherished memory, his only driving force that kept him going during the long nights, though he’d already accepted that she might have forgotten about him. But now, with their lips pressed against each other, he was certain she never did.
They left the bathroom, their cusps still locked in a passionate kiss, and headed straight for the other bed that lay empty. Claude gripped her waist and laid her down on the mattress. As their lips finally parted, he caressed her face and pressed his forehead to hers, taking in deep breaths, his soul reveling in their closeness.
“Reena…” he whispered. “I love you very, very much.”
“Oh, Claude, I love you…”
Their lips collided once more in a more zealous kiss, his hunger evident as he devoured her mouth like it held the very air he needed to breathe.
“I fucking missed you…” he said, dragging his mouth and teeth on her shoulders.
Her breath grew erratic, warming the space between them as her arms wrapped tightly around his body. Claude’s kisses trailed from her shoulders down to her chest, each touch igniting a surge of desire within him. He inhaled the scent of her skin, the softness of her bosom a tantalizing sensation against his face. His hand slipped beneath her shirt, his fingers gently caressing her breast while he continued to nibble at her neck. Every nerve in his body seemed to come alive, a blazing heat spreading through his core, reminiscent of the intimate moments they’d shared before.
He was going mad… so mad that he wanted to give her all of him.
As Claude attempted to remove her shirt, he felt a resistance. Her hands, albeit gentle, firmly pushed his attempts downward.
“Claude, stop…”
Like a switch that was suddenly flicked, he looked up at Reena’s face, concerned and confused. Instead of the usual desire he’d find in her eyes, what he saw was hesitation. It was as if she was holding something back, her mouth opening and closing as she struggled to meet his gaze.
“I... I need to… There’s something I need to tell you,” she stammered.
Claude got up, and as he extended a hand to help her, Reena shook her head and leaned herself against the headboard instead.
“Are you hurt?” he asked. He took hold of her cold hands. “I’m sorry… I-I scared you. I should’ve asked if you were okay with this...”
“It’s… it’s not your fault,” she said, though something was amiss in her demeanor. “Believe me… I tried to keep Tommy from touching me after… after–”
Claude cupped her face, his heart brimming with worry as he noticed her repulsion. “Baby, listen to–”
“Tommy and I... we... we...” she began, her voice trembling, “I had to do it, I had to make him believe me... and... and I let him–”
Reena burst into a cry, tears streaming down her face. She couldn’t finish the sentence as her sobs overtook her words. Then, she held his hands tightly as if she were pleading for him not to let her go.
Claude understood what she wanted to say, but every part of him dreaded hearing it. He just nodded and held her face with both hands, wordlessly assuring her that whatever happened between her and Tommy didn’t matter now. It was in the past, and she’d done what she had to do.
“Are you disgusted with me?” Reena asked.
“No! I’ll never be,” he retorted. “Listen, none of that matters. You’re here with me–”
“I’m sorry…” Her eyes teemed with utter shame and despair. “I-I don’t think I can do this now…”
“It’s okay, it’s okay.” Claude slid to her side and embraced her. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have forced myself on you…”
“No, no, you, I… I just needed more time…”
“I can wait, baby. I can…” He looked her in the eye. “We’re together now. That’s what’s important, alright?” He kissed away the tears that were flowing down her cheeks, just as she did whenever he woke up from the clutches of his nightmares.
Claude knew it wasn’t easy for his Reena, and every time he’d catch her staring into the distance, he knew she was still thinking about Tommy. Perhaps, it was a fact that he had to live with until she moved on and forgave herself for all the things she was holding herself responsible for.
After years of thinking he was not coming back, he could and would never fault her for having tried to set herself free from misery. The truth that it was he who wished for her to think that way made it more reasonable for him to take the blame.
But he would never tell Reena about it.
Chapter 108: Tired
Notes:
TW: Suicide / Suicidal Ideation
(If you do proceed, please be careful, and PLEASE, do not do this to yourself, no matter what. ~ Ash)
Chapter Text
JOEY SAT IN his father’s office, swiveling back and forth in the plush leather chair, a lit cigar hanging idly from the corner of his mouth. Irritation crackled in his fingers as they drummed incessantly on the mahogany desk, setting a discordant rhythm with the music blaring from the nearby radio. The raspy strains of the music only served to exacerbate his simmering annoyance, each note pushing his patience to the brink.
Unable to contain his anger any longer, he lunged forward, snatched the radio from the table, and hurled it toward the door with reckless fury.
“What the hell, Joey?!”
Toni’s yell reverberated through the room, shattering the sudden silence like a jagged shard of glass. He’d intercepted the radio, catching it before it hit him in the face. He stood framed in the doorway, his expression of shock and smoldering anger.
He was the last person that Joey expected and wanted to see. After his abrupt departure from Liberty City and the Mafia, Joey had never thought he’d even return and show up.
“Fuck you!” Joey spat out, the anger that had been festering within him spilled over.
That fucking lawyer. Since Claude and Reena’s sudden escape, Ken Rosenberg hadn’t reached out anymore. All of Joey’s meticulously crafted plans and substantial investments had crumbled into dust as Claude Speed slipped through his fingers, spiriting Reena and her children away from Vice City. As far as he knew, Tommy remained in the South, but what good was Tommy Vercetti to him without the leverage of the two most precious pawns in his scheme?
“I can’t believe you, Joey! I just went away for a few months, and you’ve already spent your father’s money–”
“My money, Toni! My money!”
The Leone mafiosos had combed every nook and cranny of Liberty City to hunt down Ken Rosenberg. Joey hadn’t hesitated to subject his late father’s executor to some convincing, only to have the man spew nothing but useless gibberish in his final moments. He’d dispatched some of his most loyal men to Vice City, but deep down, he knew that Ken wouldn’t linger in that place for long, haunted by his fear of Tommy Vercetti.
Every money spent, every time wasted, and every effort exerted on that good-for-nothing crackhead’s plan left him even more empty-handed and brimming with defeat.
“Did you bribe the judge again?!”
Toni just wouldn’t shut up. Joey’s hands trembled, feeling an overwhelming urge to rise from his seat and throw a fist right into the capo’s face. What did he have to fear, after all? He was the Don, the head honcho, the big shot! Maybe Toni didn’t hold him in the same reverence he’d held Salvatore, but damn it, he was the boss now! It should be Toni Cipriani quaking in his boots, begging for forgiveness as Joey unleashed his furious wrath. Toni should be the one struck with fear, not him!
“If I did, what was it to you?” he whispered.
Like a lightning bolt, Toni’s hand seized Joey’s collars and hauled him out of the swivel chair, his body sprawling across the desk that had previously separated them. The half-burnt tobacco, abruptly dislodged, tumbled from his mouth and landed unceremoniously on the floor. Desperation clawed at him as he struggled to break free from Toni’s grip, but it was futile. Despite his age, Toni’s strength proved overpowering, rendering Joey helpless in his grasp.
“Get your hands off me!” Joey screamed, his voice wavering between a demand and a plea. He could feel Toni’s hand tighten around his throat, and it grew even worse as Toni slammed him against the wall, the force of impact driving the breath from his lungs.
“Stupid decision, Joey!” Toni screamed, edging with exasperation. “Haven’t you thought of it? You paid Scarbein millions to put Claude Speed on death sentence, then you paid him again to put him out of it?! Where the fuck is your brain?!”
Toni finally released him, causing Joey to crash to the floor in a fit of coughs and gasps, clutching his neck as he struggled to regain his breath. Though his vision was swimming, he glared up at the capo, fury spilling from his chest. The man he’d once considered a friend, someone he’d known for years, was now peering down at him with an expression that cut deeper than any blade.
“Leave,” Joey finally managed to rasp, still recovering from the near-strangulation. “I don’t wanna see your face no more...”
“Yeah, and I don’t want to be associated with you at all,” Toni retorted, his voice dripping with disdain. “It’s a damn shame Salvatore had a son like you. You’re a piece of shit!”
Joey couldn’t contain the bitter chuckles that erupted from his throat, a mirthless sound that resonated with irony. Tears welled in his eyes as he grappled with the absurdity of it all. With a snide smile, he crawled toward his fallen tobacco, dusted it off, and returned it to his mouth. He settled on the floor, his knees drawn up, and leaned against the very wall where Toni slammed him on.
“I’m a piece of shit, yeah,” Joey conceded, his head bobbing. “I’m the kind of shit that’ll smear your walls and faces while you sleep. That’s me.”
He stared dauntlessly at Toni Cipriani. The supposedly next to the throne. All the years they’d spent together dissolved in the bitter reality that Toni would never truly be on his side. Between him and that fucking bitch? He’d surely choose her.
“You can try begging for my forgiveness, but the door has long been closed, Toni. Arrivederci.”
Toni shook his head before striding purposefully toward the door. Joey’s eyes followed his retreating figure, but just as Toni reached the doorway, he paused and cast a fleeting glance over his shoulder. His fists remained clenched at his sides, and it appeared he had no intention of turning back.
“For so long, Joey, I hated Salvatore for putting you in this place. No matter how guilty he felt for abandoning Serena, he shouldn’t have done that to you. But now… I see why he did what he did. You don’t deserve it.”
Toni exited the door and his footsteps petered out on the corridor, leaving Joey perched on the wall. His eyes trained on the doorway, looking through the empty partition, basking in the slight Toni left him for the last time.
He might not have deserved it, but neither had she.
A CLUSTER OF luggage strewn haphazardly in the dimly lit corner of the room. Suitcases of varying sizes, once filled with packed belongings, now lay half-open, their contents spilling out like forgotten memories. A duffel bag slouched against a chair, a jacket carelessly draped over its frayed handle. A child’s backpack rested on the floor, its cartoon characters now obscured by darkness. Garments hung out of a half-packed suitcase, a lone sneaker jutting from the zipper.
They all sifted through every piece, desperately hunting for any shred of information, yet they unearthed only the abandoned possessions of Reena and the children, items she’d clearly chosen to leave behind.
Everything was a mess. Broken glasses and empty bottles littered the floor, making every step a perilous attempt. Moonlight streamed through the partially drawn curtains, casting an eerie glow on the shattered remnants of their life.
Tommy sat at the foot of the bed. On his left hand, his fingers delicately traced the contours of Reena’s wedding ring, discarded like everything else Tommy thought they had. On the other, he held a battered family photo that used to sit proudly on his office desk. The frame, once a picture-perfect of his life, was now a fracture that could never be mend.
In the photograph, Cleo was seated beside Reena, radiating innocence in his smile. Tamia, cradled in her mother’s lap, stared at the camera with wide, curious eyes. Tommy stood behind Reena, his hands resting gently on her shoulders, their smiles overflowing with joy.
Yet, even in this frozen moment, the cracks in the picture frame mirrored the fault lines that had torn their lives apart. The most prominent one sliced right through Tommy’s body, cleaving him from his wife and his children.
He didn’t flinch as the sharp edges of the shattered frame dug deeper into his palm. Blood welled up from the fresh wounds, mingling with the fragmented glass, but Tommy remained numb. The physical pain seemed insignificant compared to the inexplicable turmoil raging within him.
Pain. He needed more pain. Something that would daze his heartache… more compelling than the fucking tearing and nerve-wracking sensation he was experiencing.
His vision blurred with tears and harrowing thoughts. Tommy reached for a bottle beside his feet, still containing some liquor. He drained the bottle in one desperate gulp, but even his throat no longer registered the kick of the alcohol. It tasted bland, like nothing at all. Once the bottle was empty, he hurled it across the room. It collided with the wall, shattering into countless pieces.
With his hands on his head, clutching fistfuls of his hair, Tommy tried to dispel the relentless torment in his mind, but it was futile.
They had scoured Vice City and beyond for the past few days, even pressuring airport staff, but had come up empty-handed. There were no flight records, no useful CCTV footage except for the one from the parking lot and the streets that caught nothing important, and no leads, despite Tommy’s efforts to manipulate VCPD resources.
Leigh had already been discharged from the hospital, but the man provided no further details, only confirming that Claude Speed had shot him. As the last person to have seen them, he couldn’t offer any information that would assist Tommy in locating his family.
If Reena were still in Vice City, his men would’ve already found her and the children. But no, they’d vanished, and any updates from his mobsters about their search went unheard.
Drained. Desperate. Defeated. And he couldn’t fucking do anything.
The Landstalker. He contemplated taking the shot, ending Claude Speed’s life right then and there, but he couldn’t bring himself to harm Reena and the children. Under the pouring rain, as the car headed straight for him, it suddenly veered to the side, narrowly avoiding a collision. Tommy saw her... his wife, his Reena, taking the wheel from Claude’s hands. The way she looked at him was filled with dread, but she’d saved him from certain death.
Didn’t she want to hurt him? She should’ve let Claude run over him. Maybe then he would be free from feeling the agony that currently consumed his heart and soul.
Marcus suggested they could’ve followed them, but Tommy couldn’t understand why, on that night, he lacked the strength to do so.
He shouldn’t have allowed her to go.
Her kiss before she left lingered, causing a bittersweet symphony of emotions to flood through him. Was it satisfying? Was it reassuring? He couldn’t find the right words to describe how it felt. When she finally broke the kiss, her gaze held a quiet certainty, a certainty he couldn’t quite decipher. Her fingers traced his jawline, a gentle caress filled with unspoken words. With that gesture, she turned and walked away.
Tommy’s gaze remained fixed on his wife, not knowing that it would be the last time he’d see her and the children.
He remembered sitting back on the bench, the cold steel sending shivers through his skin. His eyes scanned the crowd as travelers moved about the airport, each with their own purpose and destination. The steady rain outside provided a soothing sound, merging with the hushed conversations, echoing footsteps, intermittent chimes, and distant melodies that filled the terminal.
A grin tugged on his lips, realizing that he was too stupid for not seeing the signs. She even left her purse on the seat where she once was as if reassuring him that she’d be back in no time.
Tommy remembered that, when he rose from his seat to follow them, Reena’s purse tumbled from the seat, and its contents scattered across the floor. He vividly recalled cursing under his breath as he bent down to retrieve the items. However, as he reached for the bag, the gold wedding ring that belonged to her finger was there, glistening on the white tiles like a treasure thrown in emptiness.
That was when realization dawned upon him… but it was too late.
Now, on the floor, Tommy sat, enveloped in desolation and darkness. Among the things he found, not in the luggage but in the drawer of their nightstand, was the book he had discovered the night before they were about to leave. With a trembling hand, he picked it up, remembering the letter tucked between the pages. The dried petals of the rose fell like forgotten memories, each a speck of dust he dared not brush away from his fingers.
Reena had told him that the letter was intended for him, and his curiosity was piqued. Carefully, Tommy picked up the paper and unfolded it, revealing that her words had filled only half of the sheet. The gentle strokes of her handwriting slowly unveiled the message, which he read with bated breath, one word at a time.
“I loved you, Tommy. My life with you was wonderful. You were an amazing man.”
He carefully traced each line from left to right, savoring every word she had written.
“Please know that I tried, I really did. Every day, I wish to wake up thinking I was foolish to even resent you after everything you’ve done for me and Cleo. But each morning I did, all I felt was my growing pain and sorrow, all of which I caused myself to feel because I was too naïve to believe in you.”
A heartfelt message, so heartfelt that Tommy could feel it stab him through the chest.
“When you read this letter, I might be gone. I beg you not to run after me. I promise you, I’ll take care of myself, Cleo, and Tamia. The world has a lot more to offer you than what you can get from me. I have nothing. Please let me go.”
Slowly, Tommy’s chest sank. His arms weakened. His head swirled. His throat gasped for air to breathe. His mind went blank, and all he could see was pitch-black darkness.
“Take care of yourself. I’m sorry, Tommy.”
The paper, once pristine, bore the marks of countless crumples and stains from his fallen tears. The ink had bled and smeared, yet he couldn’t resist the urge to read it for another time. Each word cut through him like a knife, each sentence a fresh wound in his chest, a painful reminder of the irreplaceable loss he’d suffered.
If she’d lived a wonderful life with him, if he’d been an amazing man, and if she’d truly loved him, why did she choose to leave him?
Reena allowed him to sleep beside her for nights, cuddling up to his body as if nothing had changed. She spent most of her time with him, engaging in their usual activities. She even initiated passionate moments with him in his office, sitting on his lap, making him feel desired. And on the night before their planned departure, she let him make love to her, holding him close as they fell asleep, his head resting on her chest, listening to the rhythmic beat of her heart as he drifted into slumber.
All along, she’d been pretending. Tommy couldn’t help but scoff at himself. She’d made it appear as if everything was fine. She’d convinced him that she was on the path to forgiveness. She smiled at him, kissed him, and fucked him. She went to great lengths to make him drop his guard and believe that they were healing together.
And he foolishly did. He thought she was alright. He genuinely believed that she had forgiven him. He smiled in return, kissed her, and made love to her passionately. He spared no effort to demonstrate his remorse for his past actions.
Tommy lifted his hand and touched the cheek that Reena had kissed, feeling the lingering warmth of her lips fade as a harsh and painful reality settled in.
Yet, he couldn’t find it in himself to be angry with her, not even a hint of resentment. Why should he be? He had lied to her all this time. He regretted not telling her the truth about Claude. Maybe if he had, he might have had a better chance of keeping her. It was ironic how everything started to make sense in the end, when it was far too late to change anything.
He grabbed another bottle and chugged it down, the liquor spilling from the sides of his face. A thousand tormenting thoughts raced through his mind, each one a dagger of insecurity and jealousy, tightening around his head and suffocating him with painful, jagged breaths.
The sound of her voice when she said his name, the bright beam on her lips that seemed to enlighten everything dark, the soft touch of her loving hands… all of them. He fucking missed her. If he hadn’t reacted the way he did in the casino, if he hadn’t tried to gatekeep her, and if he’d just comforted her instead of deriding her… his wife wouldn’t have run away. She wouldn’t have gone out to the parking lot. She wouldn’t have seen Claude Speed.
Countless days since they disappeared, and he felt like losing his mind. He clenched his eyes shut in anguish, plagued by vivid imaginings of what they might be doing together. Were they locked in passionate kisses? Was Claude touching her, driving her wild? Could she be screaming his name in ecstasy? The paranoia gnawed at him, tearing his soul and sanity apart.
And the children… Cleo and Tamia… she took with her everything that gave his life meaning. How was he supposed to carry on now?
His stomach imploded, a gut-wrenching sensation twisting in his core at the very thought of the things he’d been thinking about. His fists clenched around the bottle, the glass neck splintering under the pressure. Another wound. He waited for the pain, but the shards of glass brought nothing. The anguish of knowing that his wife and children were now with someone else crushed the life and soundness out of him, leaving behind an echoing void of despair.
“Y-You’d be alone, Tommy. Dem girl will leave you!”
The witch’s curse came true after all.
All he ever wanted was a family of his own, one that wouldn’t abandon him. He had finally found them, but now they’d left him all alone, forcing him to face his battles without their presence.
Tommy knew that he had no chance because it had always been Claude that Reena would choose over and over again, but it didn’t matter. Her choice didn’t matter. She wouldn’t be able to get rid of him whatever happened and wherever they went.
Looking at the picture, he stared into Reena’s eyes.
Tommy’s trembling fingers tightened their grip around the largest shard of the bottle. Slowly, he raised the jagged edge toward his neck. A drop of tear traced a path down his cheek, its warmth contrasting the cold determination in his chest. He clenched his teeth, fighting back the overwhelming dread, and found himself contemplating the excruciating agony that would accompany the blade’s penetration into his damned vein.
One gash… just one gash and it would all end.
He sucked in air, closed his eyes, and allowed a smile to creep in his lips.
Blood trickled down his shuddering hand, its warmth the comfort he was searching for.
He was no longer afraid of dying, not even a bit. The fear he’d harbored for death just vanished in the air. Anytime, anywhere, he’d welcome it with open arms. After all, Reena had already killed him when she decided to leave him behind.
Tommy couldn’t continue living like this anymore.
Chapter 109: Freed
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
WARM, GOLDEN LIGHT. Reena’s eyes fluttered at the glow that shone before her. Her back felt stiff from having slept perched, the seatbelt hugging her body, holding her in place. With a gentle push, she adjusted herself, scratching her eyes as she struggled to open them. For several days, all she’d seen was the endless dirt road stretching for hundreds of miles ahead, and needless to say, she was expecting nothing more than the same view.
But as she did, Reena felt her breath catch, taken away by the sight before her.
The sunrise painted the sky in hues of orange and pink, casting a serene light over the jagged peaks of the Northstar Rock mountain range. The ridges that separated the vast stretches of the state resembled an imposing wall of nature, cloaked in evergreen forests. The cliffs sparkled like hidden treasures, their sharp edges and intricate erosion patterns jutting dramatically into the sky. The highest altitudes were shrouded in wisps of mist, lending the mountains an ethereal quality.
It was so captivating that Reena almost forgot all the exhaustion she’d felt in the past days. She straightened up on her seat, her eyes widening as she gazed upon the scenic view, the undulating terrain revealed itself in layers of shadow and light. The forested slopes, dense with pine and fir, were a contrast to the barren road that they had crossed.
“Beautiful, isn’t it?”
Claude’s voice caught her attention, taking her out of astonishment. She nodded and smiled, witnessing the faint glow on his face, radiant along with his grin.
“You’re smiling…” she murmured.
Reena knew he was wearied from the nonstop driving required to cover nearly three thousand miles. Even though at times, they took turns, Claude still did most of the work, ensuring their safety day and night. He remained vigilant, never wasting a moment. Each stop was brief and purposeful, and no matter what, he would quickly resume driving, determined to put as much distance as possible between them and the place they had left behind.
Only when they reached the borders a few hours ago did Reena feel him slow down, their speed relatively calmer than in the past days. He also seemed more relaxed, with one hand on the steering wheel and the other resting on her lap.
That was why his smile didn’t go unnoticed either. During all those days of traveling, Reena hadn't seen Claude smile with such a hint of calmness.
They were now away from danger. Far away from danger.
Claude’s grin grew wider. He cast her a quick glance, then looked back on the road ahead. “Is there a reason not to?” he asked.
Oh, how she’d missed these moments. It seemed like forever since she last experienced this, but Reena would never forget those times when she sat on the passenger side while he was behind the wheel. They would cruise the streets at night, letting the chilly air caress their skin. He’d gladly take her anywhere and show her the world, filling in the gaps in her life that felt incomplete.
And yet again, it was only he who could fill that emptiness. No one else.
Reena looked over her shoulder. Cleo and Tamia were strapped safely in their seats, sleeping soundly. Usually, they’d be awake the moment the sun began to shine, but it seemed even they felt the reprieve their bodies had not experienced for so long, allowing them to keep dreaming.
She briefly reached out, grazing their little hands, feeling their softness in the pads of her fingers. Then, she turned, pressing her back on the seat’s cushion. She placed her hand on Claude’s, her fingers entwining with his.
Reena took every opportunity to hold Claude’s hand. It felt like a drug she needed to keep grounded… a reminder that he was existing and was beside her. Until now, a part of her was scared to close her eyes, because if she did, he might just vanish again. She needed the reassurance that his flesh and bones were real… that his warmth was real.
She couldn’t imagine that she lost Claude all those years.
But then again… Tommy.
Somehow, somewhere in the depths of her thoughts, a sinking feeling started to grow in her stomach. Questions she could never ask, answers she could never get. How was he doing? Had he stopped searching for them? Had he finally realized there was no use having her? Had he, at least, found his peace, just as she was starting to find hers?
Did she love him still? There was no doubt she did. She couldn’t stop thinking about him, but Reena knew she had to forget everything they had.
There remained only the sound of the engine humming and the steady thump of the tires on the pavement. The tranquility of the car’s interior conflicted with the frenzied feelings that gradually conquered her chest. Watching the edge of the road behind them vanish, like the life she had voluntarily given up, Reena focused her eyes on the scenery that whizzed by like time that couldn’t be rewound.
“Reena…” Claude called, his voice trailing off. When she turned to face him, he curtly nodded, urging her to look at the road ahead.
The San Andreas Bridge stretched above the waters, the pristine reflections of the heavens rippling on the surface. When Reena came back to San Andreas more than two years ago, she just caught a glimpse of the bridge from above, a minuscule line that dissected the seas. But now, it felt bigger, more imposing, a horizon with a new beginning, a beacon of both hope and uncertainty.
There was relief, there was anticipation, and there was a lingering sense of apprehension, but to Reena, one thing was constant.
Claude offered her a small, reassuring smile. In return, she scooted closer to him and rested her head on his shoulder.
“We’re home, baby…” Claude whispered, clasping her hand in a gentle yet tighter hold.
Reena had never felt so at peace to be back.
Notes:
From the bottom of my heart, I would like to extend my gratitude to all of you, dear readers. Special mention to my lovely friends Kaylianna and s0uled_out for inspiring me to continue doing this. No amount of words could explain how your support has helped me get through this, for being the voice that answers back to me when I'm shouting in the void.
And if you're ready, it's San Andreas time now, baby! <3