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SAM

An eye clicks on from the kitchen's stove as I tidy up mines and Chris's sleeping areas. I return the items to a hall closet they were taken from. After, I pop two oxycontin from a prescription pillbox, mentally soothed right when I dry swallow the taste of it. The smell of sausages leads me to crutch to the kitchen.

"Morning," I greet Waynoka.

"Good morning."

"Chris must be with his parents."

She flips over the sausages in a pan on the stove. "No...I saw him head to the hall. Naka usually meets Hakan there. It's their hot spot. Hopefully, they'll come back soon."

I prop my crutch stick on a wall, and hop a bit to take a seat at the table, and watch her cook. Sensing an indifference in her voice. The paranoia. Does she think the two are up to something? That they're hooking up? "I trust Chris; you should do the same with Naka."

"How when I can't compete with their past. There's still something there. I do trust him, just not completely."

"Why? Because of our visit?" I lean forward intensely.

Waynoka stops cooking and turns on me. A high chin up, and dark eyes severe. "It goes beyond this visit, but it still involves Chris. That is all I'm going to say. Now, do you like your eggs sunny or scrambled?"

Hmm...what did she mean by it's beyond this visit?

Does Naka still want Chris?

I drop my interrogation. "Either way is fine," I avoid telling her that I disliked breakfast food. As she cooks on, I think back to the stalker. What was he tracking to find the house in the first place? Chris's phone is gone...maybe mines was tapped. It's possible. Maybe a signal linked onto mine. How else was Reba's home address accessible?

Regardless of how, Phil and I need to make a move. My gut warns me that we have a visitor outside the gate despite the police escort. Guns are needed. Elan will have to understand and allow weapons...right now, we're all sitting ducks.

Phil and I have to talk.

I eye the door, thinking about Chris's safety...Nakamo's safety, everyone's. A car could pull up at any second, judging by this reservation, they don't have guns. I stand slowly, listening to my sudden instinct of searching the entrance. Standing guards with the chiefs...even if I'm impaired, I have my 45 handy.

"Where are those two?" Waynoka breaks the silence, sounding bitter.

"I can go get them...I need fresh air."

She goes to the fridge to take out a carton egg. "Shouldn't you be off of your feet?"

"Only for the first few hours, trust me, this isn't my first round." I pat at the cast on my leg before reaching for my crutch, putting light weight on the table for support. Waynoka crosses over, grabbing my hand to balance me.

"What sport?"

"Football, linebacker," I brag proudly.

"I'll never understand how men can play such a dangerous game... concussions, broken bones, brain shifting, all done on purpose."

"It's more than a game, it's power." I lecture.

"It's stupidity."

CHRIS

Naka is unresponsive for an extended period after I reveal everything. The text that led to the card information, the money I stole, the silly spending: the tracking, the chase. James being a drug dealer and a possible mafia member.

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