Closer to the Edge

Martin frowned, keeping a close eye on Rowan as she looked over the blueprints of the apartment building that were in front of her. “I don’t trust her, Poolie,” he commented.

Rowan rolled her eyes and looked over at him. “And pray tell, why not?”

“You kicked him in the man berries. Any girl who kicks any guy in the man berries is not to be trusted.”

“He deserved it,” Rowan muttered.

“I kind of deserved it,” Paul agreed.

“No man deserves it!”

Rowan frowned and slammed her pencil down on the desk and turned to look at Martin. “You guys fucking kidnapped me and held me hostage for over twenty-four hours. And you want to tell me that I shouldn’t have tried to defend myself?” she asked.

Martin just stared at her for a minute, his blue eyes wide. “Why are you acting so crazy? See, Poolie, we can’t trust her,” he repeated, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Martin, we can trust her,” Paul told him.

“What if she’s tricking us? Acting all cool and participatory just to lead us like lambs to slaughter?” Martin asked.

And while it might have been a slightly humorous thing to say, Paul knew his best friend wasn’t joking. He sighed and shrugged. “I mean, I guess we don’t know for sure. But it’s the best option that we have right now.”

Martin sighed and rubbed his hands over his face before he walked out of the room and motioned for his best friend to follow. He paced across the hallway for a few minutes before he stopped and turned to face Paul. “How is that the best option that we have right now? Paul, you know I’m all for getting out of this situation with my head in tact—it’s no secret that your father hates me—but what if the risks are greater than the benefits? All of this sounds awesome, I know that getting back at your father for all the times he’s lied to you and getting the girl is what you have your sights set on right now, but—“

“None of this is about getting the girl, Martin,” Paul said. “Don’t think so little of me. Yes, it is a pro that Rowan wouldn’t, you know, die, but not because I want to win her heart or some stupid, romantic shit like that,” he told him. “Does she deserve to die?”

Martin’s jaw clenched. “Paul, how can we trust her?”

“Does she deserve to die?” Paul asked again.

“No. No, she doesn’t,” Martin said quietly.

“She can help us.”

“What if it’s a trick?” Martin repeated. “We fucking kidnapped her, Martin. Do you really think that she’s just so willing to help the people that kidnapped her? She owes us nothing. Why is she doing this?”

“Why don’t you fucking ask her, then, if you’re so worried about it,” Paul told him.

Martin ran his hands over his face. “I don’t want to fight with you, Paul, but you have to see my side. Ash feels the same.”

“Of course she feels the same! She’s practically surgically attached to your dick,” Paul said, rolling his eyes.

Martin couldn’t hide the smile that came over his face simply because that was such a Paul thing to say.

“I don’t want to fight with you either, Martin. And I do understand why you don’t trust her. But don’t you understand why I do?”

“Because she’s hot?”

Paul rolled his eyes.

“I guess I understand part of it,” Martin told him. “But I don’t want us to put all of our faith in her, okay? You, me, and Ash need a back-up plan in case this falls through.”

That much made sense, Paul could admit that. Of course, he was just a fan of back-up plans in general. Plan A was never enough; Paul wanted a Plan B, C, and D (and he would probably require more if he really wanted to think things through that much. “Okay. What’s Plan B?”

Martin sighed. “Kill Rowan and make a run for it. I have family in Chicago. If we can get there without trouble, they can take care of the rest,” he told him.

Paul couldn’t hide the shocked look that came over his face. “You’ve thought this out, haven’t you?”

“Paul, I’ve thought about it since you told me about this plan,” Martin explained. “It’s our best course of action if Rowan turns out to be…less trustful than you had initially thought.”

“I don’t think…” Paul trailed off. He wanted to say that he didn’t think that was the best course of action. But he knew that if, for whatever reason, Rowan betrayed him, his father would be demanding his head on a platter. And that didn’t seem appealing. So logically he knew that Martin’s plan was the best. But part of him didn’t know if he’d be able to live with himself if he was the reason that any harm was brought upon Rowan.

“Paul, we’ve thought about this, I promise you,” Martin assured him. “And if you really think she’s trustworthy, then agreeing won’t be a problem, right?”

Paul nodded slowly.

“You agree with what I said or you agree with the plan?”

“I agree with the plan,” Paul said quietly, out of fear that if he said it louder that Rowan would somehow know (even though that was completely arbitrary).

“Good. Thank you.”

Paul shrugged.

“Hey, cheer up, kid,” Martin said, shaking his best friend’s shoulder. “You and I got this, right? We’re in this together.”

“Always,” Paul said, a small smile on his face. And while they were in it together, he still felt as though part of him owed Rowan something. Though he didn’t really understand why.

“Let’s go,” Martin said, leading his friend back into the bedroom.

Rowan looked up from the blueprint, an amused look on her face. “We’re all gonna have to change into something a little more comfortable,” she told them.

Paul looked down at his clothes. “What’s wrong with this?”

“The belts? The necklaces? It’s a little flashy. And are you sure you can run in those skinny jeans?” Rowan asked, laughing softly.

“It’s not flashy, you jealous who—“

Paul clapped a hand over his best friend’s mouth. “You were not about to call her a whore, were you?” Paul asked.

Martin’s eyes narrowed and he nodded.

“Bad choice,” Rowan told him. “You’re lucky I don’t feel like kicking you in the man berries right now.”

Paul moved his hand from Martin’s mouth (hoping he wouldn’t regret it) and looked back at Rowan. “What would you suggest that we change into?”

“All black,” Rowan said, picking up the bag that Ash had packed for her and shuffling through it. She smiled when she found a pair of black skinny jeans and a v-neck. “I’m going to have to borrow a black hoodie,” she said, looking at Paul.

Paul shrugged. “Okay.”

“Go change now,” Rowan said, shooing off Martin and Paul. “We gotta leave as soon as possible. The longer we stay here, the more at risk we are.”

“Why do you say that?” Ash asked.

“No, she’s right,” Paul said. “My father’s men are surrounding this place. If I can’t trust him, there’s no way in hell that we can trust the people who work for him.” He walked over to his bags and picked it up. “Let’s go change,” he said to Martin.

Martin fixed Rowan with a glare (one that she matched) before following Paul into the bathroom. “Dude,” Martin said, shutting the door behind him. “Don’t let her boss you around.”

“I’m not,” Paul said, pulling out a different pair of black skinny jeans and changing into them. He pulled a plain black shirt over his head (and, okay, it was one of his other shirts, just turned inside out) and a hoodie.

Martin just shook his head before following suit and changing. “Does she really expect us to leave this soon?”

“It’s probably a good idea,” Paul told him. He opened the bathroom door and walked out, surprised to see that the room was empty, and he shrugged. He set the bag back down and reached for his gun, stuffing it into the back of his jeans.

Martin tossed his clothes on the bed and reached for his own gun. With a groan, he realized he needed his bag again and pulled it back towards him. He started fishing through the bottom and smiled when he found what he was searching for. “Are you wearing boots?”

Paul looked down at his sneakers and shrugged. “I can?”

“Do it,” Martin said, before tossing him another gun. “You’ll need this one.”

Paul caught it easily and set the gun on the bed before kicking off his sneakers and pulling on his combat boots. He stuffed the gun in the side of his right boot by his ankle. “You have another?”

“Yeah, take these too,” he told him, tossing him what could only be described as a hunting knife and a smaller pocket knife.

Paul stared down at them with a confused look on his face. “Do I really need these?”

Martin just sent him a look. “You never know, Paul. I need to know that my crew is protected.”

“Okay,” Paul said; he didn’t feel like arguing just then. Besides, it was useless to argue with Martin. Instead, he just took the knives and slid the smaller one into his back pocket and the larger one into the side of his left boot. And, okay, maybe he did feel pretty bad ass. But he wasn’t sure if all of it was necessary. When all was said and done, he ran his hands over his hair. “We’re gonna do this, right?”

“Right,” Martin said. “Dude, we can do this.”

“I know,” Paul said, suddenly feeling unsure.

Martin walked over to him and nudged his shoulder. “You okay?”

“I just… I know what my father does when he’s unhappy, Martin. And if he’s capable of being that vicious to someone he doesn’t know? To someone who, when they wrong him, it’s not personal?” he asked, shaking his head. “Can you imagine what he’s gonna do to me when he finds out that I’m betraying him? His own flesh and blood is deliberately disobeying him and doing exactly what he was told not to do?”

“Paul—“

“Oh, God, I’m an idiot,” Paul said, running his hands over his face. “I’m an idiot. We should just give in now. Call up daddy and tell him of our plans so he can just kill us now and get it over with.”

Martin rolled his eyes and slapped his best friend across the face.

Paul froze. It didn’t hurt, not at all, but he was surprised. And just as soon as he was finished gaping at his friend, he started laughing. “Did you really just bitch slap me?”

“Yes,” Marin said, “because you’re acting like a fool. We’re not going to fail. We can do this, okay? We’re all gonna be fine. We’ll figure this out.”

“Yeah,” Paul said, nodding quickly. “Yeah. You’re right. We’re gonna be fine.”

“See? I told you—“ But Martin never got to finish his sentence. Instead, he was cut off by a shrill scream sounding throughout the penthouse. And he froze in place and he paled. He knew that scream. “Ash!” He was out the door in a matter of seconds, Paul following closely behind, but he stopped in his tracks the minute he saw Ash and Rowan being held against their will.

Paul stopped quickly, running into his friend, and when he realized why Martin had stopped, he was angry. He was automatically filled with a righteous anger that he couldn’t prevent. “What the—“

“Hello, son,” Anthony said, stepping away from where he had been hiding between his two guards that were holding Ash and Rowan. He sent his son a casual, yet cold smile and let his arms fall beside him.

“Hello, father,” Paul said, his tone clipped. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m taking what’s mine,” Anthony said, pointing towards Rowan, “since you were too stupid and thoughtless to just…do as I asked.”

“I’m not your pawn,” Paul snapped.

Anthony made a tsk-ing noise as he shook his head. “You couldn’t just do what was asked of you, could you?”

“I’ve never been too good at following directions,” Paul told him, slowly stepping away from Martin and towards his father.

Anthony smiled softly as he looked down at his nails, seemingly inspecting his cuticles.

Paul caught Rowan’s eyes over his father’s shoulder, and he turned back to face Martin, giving him a slow nod.

Anthony glanced back up at his son. “Do you think I’m a fool, Paul? Do you think I would give you this task and then not make sure someone was keeping a close eye on you?” he asked.

Paul shrugged casually.

“You see, Roberto is good for something,” Anthony said, looking back at the tall man who had his arms around Rowan’s shoulder, pressing against her neck.

“I’m sure eavesdropping and attacking women are the only thing he’s good at,” Paul commented, smiling himself.

Anthony laughed. “I see you found a sense of humor.”

“Poolie’s always had a sense of humor. You were just never been around to see it,” Martin snapped, walking around to the other side of Anthony, his eyes never leaving Ash’s.

“Oh, telling all of our sordid family drama to all your half-blood friends, Paul?” Anthony asked, not trying to keep the amused tone out of his voice.

Martin rolled his eyes. “What the fuck is this? Hogwarts?”

“That’s what I said!” Paul exclaimed before high-fiving his best friend.

Anthony sighed in exasperation.

“Hey, Rowan?” Paul didn’t move his gaze from his father’s profile; he didn’t dare let him out of his sight just yet.

“Yeah?” Rowan asked, struggling against the man who was still refusing to let her go.

“You remember that thing we told you never to do?” he asked.

Rowan felt herself smile. “Yeah?”

“Do it.”

And the minute she brought her leg behind her to hit Roberto in the, well, man berries, all hell broke loose.

Paul had whipped his gun out from the waistband of his jeans and he started firing without a second thought.

Within three seconds, there were so many guns firing, he didn’t know which one was his and which one was Anthony’s.