Chapter 33: PARTNER'S DOUBT
Lucas's apartment is above Sugar's bar. Temporary housing while he looks for something permanent. The temporary has lasted months.
He opens the door before I knock. "How'd it go?"
"He made an offer."
Lucas's jaw tightens. "Come in."
The apartment is sparse. Functional. No personal touches. A place to sleep, not live.
We sit at his small kitchen table. He pours bourbon. The good stuff. Ana's preference. Now his.
"What kind of offer?" he asks.
"Occasional work. Specific tasks. Five thousand per job. Plus information about Rabbit's organization."
Lucas drinks. Slow. Controlled. "You're considering it."
"I'm evaluating it."
"Same thing."
"Not to me."
He sets down his glass. "Proctor is the enemy. He runs drugs. Destroys lives. Corrupts everything he touches."
"We're criminals wearing badges," I say quietly. "We don't get to pretend we're the good guys."
The words hit hard. Lucas's expression darkens. "We're trying to be better."
"Are we? Or are we just criminals who picked a convenient cover?"
"There's a difference between surviving and serving."
"Maybe. Maybe not." I lean back. "Proctor's offering resources. Intelligence. Things we need when Rabbit sends the next wave. Can we afford to refuse that?"
"Can we afford to accept?" Lucas stands. Paces. "You start working for Proctor, you become his. He owns you. Owns us."
"He specifically said no ownership. Selective employment."
"And you believe that?"
"My Criminal Instinct read it as genuine."
"Your instinct isn't infallible." He turns. "Ben, if you do this—if you cross that line—we can't come back."
"We crossed the line when we stole these badges. When we built covers on dead men's names. When I killed six people at that mill." I meet his eyes. "We're already compromised. I'm just deciding how to use it."
Silence. Heavy. Tense.
Lucas sits again. Drinks. "You're right. We're already criminals. But I chose this cover because I wanted to protect someone. To do something good with bad skills. If we work for Proctor, we're just criminals. Nothing else."
"What if that's what we are?"
"Then I've been lying to myself." He looks at me. Really looks. "And I don't know if I can live with that."
The partnership cracks. Not breaks. But cracks.
"I'm not saying yes," I finally say. "I'm saying I need to think. Carefully. About what we're facing. What we need. What we can accept."
"And what I can accept doesn't matter?"
"It matters. But it's not the only thing that matters."
Lucas nods. Slow. Bitter. "I see."
"Do you? Because I'm trying to protect us. Both of us. And Carrie. And everyone who fought beside us. Rabbit will come back with more men. More resources. Are we ready for that? Or do we need help?"
"Not from Proctor."
"Then who? State police? FBI? People who'll investigate us? Expose us?" I lean forward. "We're alone, Lucas. And being alone means making hard choices."
He drinks. Doesn't respond.
I try again. "I'll make you a deal. I refuse any job that directly conflicts with your interests. With Carrie's safety. With the people we're protecting. If Proctor asks for something that crosses that line, I say no. Deal?"
Lucas considers. "And if he stops being selective? If he demands instead of requests?"
"Then we deal with that. Together."
"As partners."
"As brothers."
The word lands. Lucas's expression softens. Slightly.
"We're not settling this tonight," he says. "But I need you to understand. If you go too deep with Proctor, I can't follow. Won't."
"I know."
"And I need you beside me. Not across from me."
"I know that too."
We drink in silence. The bottle passes between us. Not celebration. Medication. Sometimes friendship means tolerating what you can't accept.
"How's Carrie?" I ask. Changing subject.
"Scared. Grateful. Guilty." Lucas rotates his glass. "Gordon doesn't suspect. Deva does. The normal she built is fracturing."
"Can she rebuild?"
"I don't know. Maybe. If Rabbit stays away long enough." He looks at me. "Which is why we need to be ready. For when he doesn't."
"Agreed."
"So what's the plan?"
I think about Proctor's offer. About resources and information and uncomfortable alliances.
"I tell Proctor maybe. Keep the door open but don't walk through. Yet. We prepare independently. Train. Plan. Build defenses. And when Rabbit makes his move, we reassess our options."
"Including Proctor."
"Including everyone."
Lucas doesn't like it. But he accepts it. "Okay. We table it. For now."
"For now."
He refills our glasses. "You remember that bank robbery? Feels like years ago. Was barely three weeks."
"I remember. You asked me if I was staying. I said I didn't know."
"You know now?"
I think about the pack. The bonds formed in blood. The territory defended. The wolf that woke up and found purpose.
"Yeah. I'm staying."
Lucas smiles. Small. Tired. "Good. Because I need you."
"I know."
We finish the bottle. Lucas goes to bed. I sit alone, thinking.
I don't want to betray Lucas. Don't want to cross lines he can't accept.
But I also don't want to limit my options based on someone else's morality.
The wolf doesn't run with a pack that restricts the hunt.
Maybe that's the problem.
Or maybe I'm becoming something that needs restrictions.
The question sits in my mind, unanswered.
Tomorrow, there's a case. Local crime. Actual deputy work. Normal operations.
Tonight, I sit with the uncomfortable truth that normal doesn't fit anymore.
I leave Lucas's apartment. Walk through Banshee. The streets are empty. Dark. Peaceful.
My Criminal Instinct is quiet. No immediate threats. No predators circling.
Just the wolf, walking territory, wondering what kind of hunter it wants to be.
The answer doesn't come.
Maybe it never will.
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