Gat and I were on our way to the Casino when his phone rang. I didn't pay attention to it, thinking it was probably just Shaundi or Pierce. I wasn't yet recovered from my shock, nor my disappointment and I knew I would need a good week to be able to put this night behind me.

'Who? Who...? Why should I care who this Matt Miller is?' Johnny said to the person on the other side of the line, and that name caught my attention straight away.

I snapped his phone away, to his surprise: 'We're listening.'

'The name is Kinzie Kensington. I went to college with Shaundi...' A woman's voice started.

'Oh.' I replied, pleased. 'So, Kinzie... I am guessing we share a dislike for nosey Emo nerds, am I right?'

'Sure do!' The voice on the other side sounded excitedly encouraged by my words. 'I will take you to his despicable person, trusting that you will do the right thing. The asshole lost me a job at the FBI by leaking some private videos of mine... Nothing too extreme but still enough to discredit me!'

Although I didn't ask, and surely wasn't interested in knowing the weirdest kinks of a total stranger, she started to list some odd BDSM practices I didn't even know about.

'Can we get back to Matt's address?' I interrupted her, unfortunately listening enough to visualize everything.

After she did so, I hung up the phone.

'Weird woman.' I shrugged. 'Change of plans Gat, let's go for some action.'

'Ok, but you better tell me who the hell are all these people are...'

Back at home Carlos was sitting in the part of the garage where the cars that were ready to be retrieved were kept, sitting inside a Hayate for privacy. At his feet and on the side of his seat, were balls of printed paper from the magazine he thorn a few days ago. He felt the need to be on his own, so the weird mix of emotions he was experiencing would decrease.

Bliss, jealousy and anger clashed contradictorily in his self, causing his chest to raise up and down with quick breathing.

After smoking a whole pack of cigarettes without being able to leave, he finally gave in and picked up the magazine on the floor.

After what he did tonight, what would it change?

He hastily opened it to the part that interested him.

'The Leader of The Saints tells all: Guns, crime, and fashion'

'God, what kind of press is this?'

There she was, in a beautiful, but kind of overdone style of picture, lying on the grass in a black couture dress with a big cleavage, in one of those 'I'm pretending to be natural but been hot' kind of pose.

His heart was pounding suddenly hard just to look at it, a world of memories rising that now he didn't care to push away, at least not during this indulging time he accorded himself.

Next he started to read the interview, close to another fashion photo. This was a standing pose of The Boss in only a long white shirt, high heels and a gun. Ok, she still looked tough. But he had to wonder how it was possible that the Saints went from gangsters to jet setters so godamn fast...

'Fuck how do you do that? You look even more beautiful.' He chuckled sadly.

'Shit baby, you've got silicon on your tits.' He noticed. 'They were fine just the way they were.'

He looked at the photo longly, like trying to retrieve something from it.

Meanwhile an object next to her almost bare breasts caught his attention, it seemed very familiar to Carlos:

A golden cross, suspended by a thick chain. His heart contracted with pure happiness, even if he tried to suppress that sensation.

'It's Hector's cross.'

He recalled a detail from earlier that night, one that he didn't pay much attention to in the heat of the moment... Yes. She was wearing this chain and he saw it when he opened her shirt to check on her wound!

'Maybe she still thinks about me...! She STILL cares, in a way!'

After reading the whole article and turning back the pages several times to look at the pictures, Carlos closed his eyes while he ran a hand through his hair, vanquished:

'Dios Mío! Por que me haces esto?'*

Matt's favorite spot to hang out was the basement of a costume store downtown. His gang owned 'Let's Pretend' chain in Steelport, making it the perfect place to retreat. Besides, it always made him feel even more like an undercover genius, belonging in a science fiction movie.

Bruised was his body and mostly was his ego, so he decided it was time to keep a low profile for a while.

But turned out that, this night, the young hacker was about to regret trusting the security of that retreat.

Miller barely had a few hours to calm himself partially and recover a bit, when to his total panic he heard shots above through the ceiling.

Panicking, almost shiting his pants, the young gangster grabbed a pistol and got up from his chair, but at the same time the door of the basement was kicked open.

'There he is!'

The Boss, followed by Johnny Gat and a woman with red hair stormed inside. He recognized his FBI rival and understood all hope was lost.

As soon as The Saints approached and The Boss charged in front of the others, Matt immediately tossed his gun away and fell to his knees with nothing else in mind but to save his ass. He started to mumble, voice disturbed by fear:

'B-before you do anything hasty... Think of the advantages of having the finest hacker at your gang's service! I, I got new gear this morning and its top tech…'

His trembling fingers grabbed a laptop to show them.

'Oh, no no no. I'm gonna kill you.' She quickly guaranteed charging and pointing her gun, not waiting to give him false hope.

'W-what if you didn't?' He pleaded, wiping his face with his sweaty hands. 'Please, please spare my life!'

The Boss tilted her head and thought for a second. Not that she was used to compassion, but she didn't really hate Matt.

'Kid, you better give me a good reason to be so nice.' She hesitated, still aiming at him.

'I do! I can achieve whatever you ask me to, I am a better hacker than her.' He pointed at Kinzie.

'What? Just shoot this bastard Boss!' The young woman with red hair reacted, walking towards Matt.

The Boss raised a halting hand in the air to make Kinzie stop, and slowly pulled her gun away.

'Tell you what Miller. You don't fuck with us and, if I ever need a favor from you... You'll say yes. Then you will swallow your pride and will apologize to the lady here. Deal?'

'Holy fucking deal!' He answered, delighted.

'But one last advice, kid. You back stab us and...' The Boss taped with the sides of her gun softly on his cheek and he winced. '...Well, you know.'

She then offered him her hand, inviting him to get up and Matt happily grabbed it, sealing this new alliance and second chance to live.

'Does this mean I have to wear purple now?' The young hacker asked, worried.

'Don't make me change my mind man.'

'I'll shush.'

A week later...

Getting Matt and his gang to colab with us turned out to be an excellent move. We weren't on the Syndicate's list for the time being, and actually managed to bribe our way into tranquility. Had this happened years ago, there would be no questions asked and certainly The Saints would be making a move to exterminate any concurrence. But now, the last thing I was wishing for was another gang war. But to be perfectly honest, that wasn't he reason why I kept Miller around.

Ever since that night something has gotten into my skin. The same thoughts kept coming back, turning into obsession.

I tried to keep my cool, to hide from the guys what was going on and everyone was acting like they were believing me. Everyone but Gat, that is.

That day we got into an argument because he kept asking me questions, sticking his nose into my business. Out of concern, I know; but it was really starting to piss me off.

'I know what you're thinking about.' He said. 'You've been weird all fucking week long, talking to that Miller kid. I ain't dumb Boss. Why do you need a hacker now that you're leaving the Saints?'

'I thought he could help finding something, just in case.' I caved, unable to bullshit him.

'Just in case?'

'Yeah, just in case.' I snapped, starting to lose my temper. 'It's my life Gat...'

'Right. You are free to ruin it just after you got yourself out of that hole.'

'Shut up.' I said, banging my fists on the couch and he did the same to the wall. He pulled his gun and fired some shots on it out of frustration (Our flat was new but already had numerous small holes everywhere).

I held his arm and stopped him, not wishing to wake up Daniel with the noise.

'You should meet someone, honestly, it's driving you nuts.' He started.

'Pff. What the fuck?!' I turned, waving my hand in the air with extreme annoyance. 'Is this a joke?'

'No it's not a joke...' He spoke more softly, trying to reason. 'I know it hurts. After Eesh I couldn't go balls deep for a whole fucking year, but then I moved on. You if weren't so dumb you could've had Max back, but now that ship sailed. Don't spend your whole life in mourning, Boss.'

I haven't been with a dude since Carlos. Truth was, I didn't want to. My body healed enough to yearn for sex again by now, but the very thought of it felt like betrayal. How could I be intimate with someone after he left this world, and by my own fault?

But Gat, and God was I pissed at him for it, he was right. It wasn't healthy. At some point, I had to move on.

I sighed, disarmed. Gat was trying to pull me back to shore, how could I keep being mad at him. I tapped on his shoulder friendly, unable to say another word.

'Come on, just think about it.' He concluded. 'I'm off to bed.'

I kept watching his silhouette until it disappeared up the wide staircase. Our new flat was huge. It reflected well how filthy rich every single one of us was by that point. The ceiling of the living room we were was high enough to shelter a very tall statue of a Spartan warrior. The architecture was modern and spacious.

After checking on Daniel's sleep I couldn't go to bed, confronted to a dilemma.

I opened a bottle of wine and headed back to the living room. I felt an unbeatable need to think straight. I kept walking barefoot over the samples of a crappy photoshoot I've done earlier that week for a magazine, and that were scattered on the floor.

I looked through the huge windows of the penthouse to the pool : Outside the crackling sound of distant thunder announced a summer rain under the dark grey clouds.

The wind was blowing strong, whistling as it waved the surface of the water. It was freaking loud, as if some force was wishing to warn me of something, to keep me from going back to sleep.

There was something mystical, unreal about that night. Something eerie as if the past was suddenly coming back.

My mind kept returning to the masked man in the motorcycle, trying to find a connection. Any hope that Carlos could be alive. But no reasonable explanation came, nothing to make me even dare to believe it was possible.

I sat over the pictures, defeated.

'He is gone. Don't do that to yourself. Gat is right, don't go there again.'

Taken by goosebumps, I jumped a bit when my phone vibrated over the coffee table.

A message from Matt.

'Found something but don't be too excited. Some random people claim to have recognized Carlos Mendoza after his death. Got this info from social media and it lead me to Sephren Nichols TV special. One unaired episode called 'Secrets of the Pyramid', claims to have footage of him .'

I cursed a bit under my breath. Matt's source wasn't serious at all. I remembered that conspiracy theory show, that aired every Friday after hours on Channel Six. Bullshit beyond levels. I hated it since there was one ridiculous episode about my friend Lynn, suggesting that she became a Zombie and that she haunted the canals of Stilwater. Come on. Now what, was Carlos supposed to be a Zombie too?

'There is nothing else but if we don't try, we will never know. I will dig on my side.'

To think about it...

He was right. If I didn't try, I would forever blame myself for doing nothing.

I remained pensive for a second, then, taken by sudden resolution grabbed my coat and headed towards the door.

I texted him back on my way down to the garage:

'Thanks Matt, I will dig on my side too.'

The outskirts of the city were almost empty at those hours.

Steelport's and road lights only, in the background, casted a bit of contrast on the somber highway.

From afar, two headlights appeared, bringing a bit of life to that deserted landscape.

A large purple vehicle followed a long road ahead, then took a hard turn that crossed to a suspended bridge under a sign in which the directions read: 'Stilwater.'

It kept going through the highway for an hour or so, until it reached the city. Finally, it stopped in front of those iron gates, under a big sign: 'Mourning Woods Cemetery.'

The gates were closed at that hour, but The Boss simply put on reverse, backing off a little, then accelerated, smashing it open with massive front of the car.

She got off the vehicle and opened the trunk, retrieving a snow shovel from it.

As the gang leader walked around the empty graveyard, she lit the torch on her phone and put it on the front pocket of her coat as a source of permanent light. It projected a moving shadow under the crosses and mausoleums.

The Boss took a while to orient herself, but finally halted in front of three tombstones that stood side by side, marked with a Fleur de Lys. One could say someone was guiding her, making the hairs in the back of her neck stand up.

She casted the light on them, taken by strange emotions. There were carved the names of: Aisha Keith, Lin Feng and Juan Carlos Mendoza.

'Here we are again guys.' She said to herself. Without wasting any time she started to dig the ground under Carlos' name.

It took her a while to do the job alone. With concentrated will, she dug the shovel in the ground and tossed the earth away at a pile next to it. Several minutes passed until she suddenly stopped:

She leapt a bit in anticipation, the shovel just hit something hard. A bit of dark wood appeared, peaking through the earth.

Not wasting any time, she got to her knees and continued the digging barehanded, tossing handfuls of dust and brushing it away with her fingers.

Something shone then slightly in the dim light.

A dirty, golden cross was engraved on the surface of the lid.

She finally managed to get most of the coffin to appear, and got the corners clear, then inserted the shovel in the gap to use it as a crowbar.

'It's for you I'm doing this Carlos.'

She expected to have to do some serious levering, but it wasn't sealed so hard. Just nails were securing it, and only the weight of the solid wood kept in place. She kept forcing the shovel, and the top was finally lose, broken in it's articulations. She took one deep breath to prepare herself to whatever could come from it, and couldn't help but to feel a knot in her stomach at the thought that maybe she was about to contemplate the remains of the man she never stopped loving. With one more sight the lid was pushed out the way.

The Boss turned her head away for a moment, coughing, then avidly leaned towards the coffin:

Carlos was notoriously shorter than this skeleton. It could never have been him.

The Boss sat at the edge of the hole she dug, nodding and smiling in victory.

About two hours later later her and Shaundi were sitting inside a Danville, at Freckle Bitch's drive through. Shaundi was still wearing her PJ's under her coat and seemed very impressed with the news. Both girls were discussing it excitedly and noisily.

'So you drove in the middle of the night and decided to do some grave desecration...'

The Boss replied, still covered in dust while sipping her coke:

'Of course. Do you think I could sleep after that?'

'But, Boss, how is this possible? We'd buried him.'

'Bruno was with Carlos that day. We never saw him again after that.' The Boss theorized. 'I called some people at a lab and they will take a sample to confirm that.'

'There is just one thing, if he is alive, why he never looked for us?'

At this the gang leader's lips twitched, it was hard to say it:

'Maybe... He's still angry because it was my fault, you know...'

'Boss. You didn't see it coming.'

After our nocturnal snack Shaundi and I went to break into Nichols' mansion and shake him up.

In no time the former host caved and confessed that 'Secrets of The Pyramid' was indeed recorded, but never aired. Ultor put a lot of pressure on him to keep quiet about that back in the day, going to the point of discrediting his show into cancellation.

After that information it took weeks of searching until we found a trail, then the actual episode upload on a forgotten website with terrible, shitty quality.

The sightings of this supposed Carlos were filmed right here in Steelport! But then... The Luchador! It could explain everything.

Impatiently, I took the expensive gear clumsy out of Matt's table, fast forwarding it to the part I needed to see: Nothing more than security camera footage and low resolution shots, but my heart skipped a bit. It seemed to me that the man on the video carried himself and moved just like Carlos did.

My heart was beating so fast, I was so drunk on hope that I actually grabbed squashed Matt's hand under mine convulsively.

'Piece of cake. Just give me time.' The hacker kid promised me, painfully trying to free his hand. 'I will look for anything that looks like that man in every camera around Steelport.'

Salander District Church, weeks later...

'Sorry M'am. We have to close now.'

I sighed to the Sacristan, it was the second time that he came to see me that night.

I nodded, vanquished:

'I will be on my way. Thanks.'

'Another wasted day...' I thought, in the semi darkness of that place. Candlelight danced everywhere, illuminating sacred statues of saints, real ones that is.

It was easily the fifth time I have been to that church. All because Matt found a match there. I would come first thing in the morning, and wait until closing hours.

But now it was late so I was about to get up, and call it a night. I would come back tomorrow...

It was when I heard steps outside.

The sacristan looked outside, then after a short hesitation opened the door again, looking at his own watch, clearly pissed off and eager to leave. 'Please hurry up, we were just closing.'

A man walked into the church. He was wearing a black sports jumper and his face was covered by a hood. Something in his way of walking seemed sad and what else? A bit defeated, but familiar. I stood there, trying to act casual.

My heart would skip a beat, I gulped.

I could hear that famous pumping into my ears, all my awareness was suddenly very concentrated on the vision.

Only a glimpse of his face was visible, as the light was flickering weak.

I couldn't distinguish his features clearly, but he had a regular face, light skin and a black eye patch, kind of like a pirate.

He passed right next to me, I kept still at my spot instinctively, like if iI was praying, and he didn't notice me.

He stopped, I saw him doing a quick movement with his hand to cross himself and his hood slip. He had his back turned at me, all I saw was a silhouette with short dark hair, a regular sized scar on the top of the skull.

He then sat at the first row, tilted forward and head down, hands on his chin, like lost on deep thinking.

For a second I just froze there.

I wanted to check him better, at the same time I was afraid to kill this sweet hope in my chest. Walking forward, my legs were very shaky but I tried my best to act casual.

Now in front of me there was the marbled stone of the aisle, decorated with golden ornaments that were polished and made a perfect mirror.

I lowered my head as if I was immersed in praying just to catch a better vision of the reflex of the man sitting behind me.

All the pain, all the missing in my heart melted. The man in the reflection was still young, his large, chocolate eye looking down, full lips moving softly and quietly in prayer. He was a bit different, maybe his emotional state, surely the reconstructive surgery he had undergone, but still handsome, still himself. I would recognize him always, no matter what.

I turned to him, letting the lights of the candles illuminate fully my face.

'Carlos...!' She pleaded in his direction, her voice was perfectly clear but not firm.

He looked up in the direction of the voice and saw a woman in front of him, suddenly alarmed. He thought he recognized the voice of someone that was in his thoughts more often than he wished, someone he was sure would never show up again, it was strange, in that light skinned woman standing two steps away from him, a dark coat on her back, hair pulled up in a tight bun.

She didn't change so much. More makeup, different hair. But same look. Same voice. Same accent when pronouncing his name.

He shook his head slowly from side to side, unsurely, eyes wide open.

His lips moved, it was clear that he was sayin 'Boss', but no sound came out.

He was mostly sure their paths would never cross again. Even if he pictured it happening many times in his head, a few actually while siting at that very bench. He thought he would be angry, and relive pretty much every awful feeling that he had that day he went to the Saint's Hideout and would find out she was with Max.

But in that moment it didn't exist, something else was there taking suddenly all the room, leaving no empty spot left for resentment and bitter memories. It was happiness, pure and simple. The child like one, the one you feel when you see a very dear face after an awfully long time. There was no room left to think of her forgetting him for Max, the hardness of those years trying to make a life again, or to think of the shock his appearance could cause on her. It was so good but, funny, it also hurt like hell at the same time.

It was her, she was back. This person so missed was again standing next to him, looking for him. She came to look for him. All the rest didn't matter. Like all was fine, life was wonderful no matter how bad it could be from now on.

All of this just lasted a moment, and for a while they just stared at each other quietly, both recovering from the initial shock. He thought he knew better by now or was too old to feel so childish again. He wouldn't lie and try to hide it from himself, so just lowered his head in sad acceptance and some shame. He didn't want to look at her directly in case she could guess his feelings:

'What do you want...'

The Boss frowned in confusion and was surprised at his reaction.

'What do I want? To see you. Damn Carlos... I mourned you, I thought you were murdered and now I find you here, alive.'

He didn't move.

She understand his reaction all wrong and froze, relating it to him not being able to forgive her for the consequences of her provocations on Maero. And now you could see a frank dread in her eyes. She blamed herself so much for it all the way, of course he did it too. Surely that is why he disappeared without giving any news. She feared so much he would react like this.

She lowered her head, lips twitching and unable to say anything apart from:

'I'm sorry. I'm so sorry.'

He chuckled bitterly, the light in his heart now dead. 'Guilt. That is why she came back. She feels guilty for what happened to me. She probably needs to hear I forgive her to keep living her life.' And her life meant of course, a life with Max. He felt a void in his stomach.

For a second he savagely thought of denying her that. Like this she would somehow live a lesser happy life next to the man she chose over him. At least he would have that. Her feeling guilty because of him. He never blamed her for what happened with the Brotherhood. If anything he blamed himself for not being a better Lieutenant and being careless enough to get caught. But she took so much from him, hurt him so much. Cant a man have a tiny, ridiculous compensation?

But one look in her direction changed his mind. 'Look at her. She is miserable. Is this the huge love you have for her? Can you live with yourself after ruining the life of someone you love, and who, before walking away with another was so good for you? And fuck, inside a godamn Church? Are you going to become this kind of man?' For everything they had he had to let her walk away from with her peace restored. He had to let her go again. It ached like being stabbed in the heart but that was what had to be done.

'Look...' He started. 'I never blamed you for what happened to me.' There was sincerity in his tone.

That restored her courage to the point she got closer, kneeling next to his seat, touching his arm. She was looking at him with some sort of sad tenderness.

Her being so close suddenly made Carlos realize she was close enough to notice his face better, and pulled away a bit, obviously embarrassed and turning his face to the shadows.

'I don't want your pity.' He pressed more harshly. 'I can handle anyone's but yours. If anything you gave me a chance to live with the Saints for a while, to become someone. I was to blame for been such a no good, mess of a Lieutenant. You came here to have a clean conscience, I'm giving you that. Please, now just go back to your life and leave me alone.'

She listened to his final explosion and merely stood there, shaking. This was the old Carlos she knew, making his comeback from the time he had no self confidence. She hated to see him like this. What the hell happened to him during these years?

'Pity...? No.' She spoke in a whisper. Her face contorted in a nervous laughter. And then she was getting increasingly pissed off, like always when something would get in her way 'I NEVER! Do you really think that what this is about? Guilt, more likely! Love, fuck yeah! It killed me all this time and never a day went by without me thinking of how much, oh just how much I... fucked... up!'

She was yelling in rage now:

'Damnit, I felt so guilty for you, and her voice went from psycho anger to sobbing. 'Because I care so much about you. And if this guy exists.' She pointed at the cross in the altar, stumbling on her words. 'Then He only, knows how much... I mean why would i come here if not to tell...'

She wouldn't finish for not a second later her head was pressed hard against Carlos' shoulder, he kneeled down on the floor too, and placed his arms tightly around her.

'I didn't know that darling... I'm sorry... I missed you too, so much, you have no idea... But what about Max?'

'...Carlos, you don't know how much I suffered after you left us!' The Boss added, for once been all vulnerable, sobbing like a little girl and getting it all off her chest. Her hands were grasping hard on his jumper. 'How can I prove that I love you? I will go where you go, doesn't matter where or how, it's fine by me... Been at your side is more important.'

He realized she also had been very miserable from missing him. He felt a huge relief and also felt right. Happy. Again... It was like all those dark years never happened. Maero and Jessica never happened. He felt his fucking self again.

He kissed her hair, the back of her neck, the tip of her fingers in a desperate attempt to calm her. And like always there was such a loving vibe in his purpose, it did work. He would always have a calming effect on her.

'Max?' She suddenly remembered. 'He will marry again, next year.'

He shifted on the seat, moved, his lips grinned and trembled at the same time.

'But what about the kid?'

'Oh. Daniel, you mean.'

'His?' Carlos took the most obvious (and painful) shot with an unsettled smile. 'It's ok...'

'There was nothing between us.' The Boss shook her head, grinning at the jealously that was written all over him and caressed his arm reassuringly. 'No. Daniel is Vogel's son.'

Carlos face showed shocked surprise, he wasn't sure he was following anymore:

'You had a son with Dane Vogel…?!'

The Boss bursted with laughter at this.

'Of course I didn't. He is my adopted son, sweetheart.'

'A kid...! I've always wanted to have kids with you, doesn't matter how.' Carlos laughed too and kissed her lips, then continued on the subject that clearly was hard for him so they could get it over with:

'All I am saying it's… What happened in your life those years… it's ok. I mean, you had to move on at some point… But now we are back together and for good, just as we planned before.'

'…No one, Carlos.'

'Really...?'

'I had no one after you.' She smirked, and lowered her head.

'No one?' He asked again, sinking deeper in his emotions, as if it was hard to believe so.

The Boss raised her head to look at Carlos. Her eyes were pearling with tears.

'I am not saying it was healthy. But yeah… no one.'

He didn't answer and cupped her face with one hand gently, kissing her.

She frantically start to caress his hair backwards, expanding all of this pent up affection overflowing for years in her heart.

'Damn! You look good...' She said, kissing the side of his lip, and he had to smile as he knew her enough to know this was sincere.

'Wow. What about you then.' He softly stroke her hair with the back of his fingers, watching her from head to toe carefully. 'You look wonderful, lady.'

'Image as Designed had something to do with that...' She admitted with a laugh as she stared down at her boobs, and suddenly they were both laughing together like in the old times, but it was much more than just about the joke.

When you have one of these moments that you feel everything life put you through was worth it, then you know.

The Boss had her laugh interrupted as he pressed his lips again into hers, more hungrily now. She eagerly reciprocated it, shivering with longing and passion.

'Uh...I'm suddenly very aware that we are in a church...' He started.

'Yup. Lets get out of here.'

Hours later we were in this hotel room, finally together after three long years of separation.

So much had happened and nothing had changed.

Unable to say anything after desperately making love, we kept tight in each other's arms in bed, wondering what force of destiny could gift us with that complete happiness after the storm.

Saints' Hideout, Stilwater.

The following week:

Carlos stuck this last piece of luggage in the car, and rushed to open the back door for me. I carefully placed my biggest treasure inside, and fastened the harness of his baby seat.

We looked back one last time at the Hideout, about to be left behind along with our purple sins. For me and Carlos, this was goodbye.

I finally realized that a lot passed us by. I wasn't the same crazy gangsta girl, who used to terrorize Stillwater and make it to the top 5 most wanted. Nor the woman that 10 years after, reclaimed the city from scratch with Gat's help.

I didn't have that will to risk and to claim anymore. Somewhere along this bumpy road it got lost, like I didn't need to prove myself any longer to be deserving of nothing.

Earlier that day, I quit. My ears were still fucked up from the noise of all the ammo fired up in the air to celebrate my retirement, and my eyes were filled with tears. But my heart was filled with nostalgia and gratitude as I turned my head to stare at the entrance of the hideout, covered in purple shirts and dear faces.

Turns out I didn't have a gang to belong anymore.

But now… I belonged to my family! Finally, I had everything to lose.

All I could thank for is that we were alive to enjoy it.

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Thank you so so much for reading. :3 :3 :3

Words couldn't describe what writing this fic meant. But who knows, some day I might write another story with the same characters. In the mean time stay tuned for some bonus material (remember Max's dream and Carlos' vision while fighting the Samedi?).

If you enjoyed please leave a review.

* My God, why are you doing this to me?