Leon punched me so hard my vision blackened for two seconds.

"You goddamn piece of shit!" He roared.

Blinking my swimming eyes, I tried to focus on him, but it was no use. Even after getting punched, I still felt completely hazed. "Nice to see you too, Leon."

He yanked me to his face by grasping my shirt and glared murderously down at me. "You said you quit. Ten months, Russ. Ten. Months. And now after two weeks of no connection, you've gone back to this. You fucking disappoint me."

He threw me back on the ground in the abandoned parking construction I'd cooped myself up in, my back meeting the concrete floor. I groaned a little and tried to sit up. "Forgive me if I don't live up to your expectations. My first priorities are accomplishing my own."

"And is this what you expect from yourself?" Leon picked up an empty syringe on the ground with a tissue. "Doping yourself up until you kill your soul?"

"Technically, you can't kill—"

"Dammit, Russ! What happened?" Leon demanded to know. "Is this all because of the Russian case? I told you, you shouldn't have gotten in so deep—"

"Do you honestly think I'd dope myself because a gang of mobsters trashed my apartment? That would be a waste of fine medicine."

"What did you take?"

"Where's Michelle? Does she know you're out scooping addicts off the paveme—"

"What did you take!"

Leon's outburst echoed throughout the parking house. I glared flatly up at him. "Cocaine."

"You are a pathetic piece of shit," Leon seethed, dragging a hand over his short afro. "You have an amazing talent, Russ. I cannot believe you'd throw it all away on something as useless as drugs. Look at yourself, for Christ's sake!"

"I, am, not, an, addict." I spelled out for him through gritted teeth. "I'm an occasional user of pantothenic acids. It helps broaden my mind—"

"I'll broaden your goddamn mind!" Leon shouted, yanking me up to my feet by my shirt. "I really want to smash your head against the concrete if it wasn't because we need you! I'm taking you to a hospital so you can get a pump-out."

"Oh, for crying out loud, you are overreacting. I didn't even take that much."

"How much did you take? You know what, save it," He snapped, yanking me along. My body was too weak to protest. "Tell it to the nurse."

~~~

"Russell, it's so good to see you again," Michelle, Leon's wife, greeted me as soon as I stepped into their house. "Even though it's under such circumstances."

"And what circumstances are those, exactly?" I snapped as Leon closed the door behind us. "Getting forced to go to the hospital or getting forced to stay here for the night?"

"Pleasant and polite as always," She mused, giving me a smile. "I'm sorry to hear about your divorce."

"Why?"

"Because you and Janelle were a great couple, no matter how ludicrous it sounds in your ears." Michelle replied. She then turned to her husband and offered him a smile. "Hey, honey. I trust everything went alright?"

"Define alright," Leon scoffed, referring to the moment where I one-upped a nurse with my, quote; 'brain-talk'. "I'm just glad it's over."

"Me too, that was awfully tedious," I added, exhausted. "That nurse was incompetent, did you notice the buttons on her shirt? They were—"

"Begin that talkin' again and I'll send you right back to the hospital with a broken neck," Leon warned with a death glare.

"Hey!" Michelle sternly snapped, placing her hands on her hips. "I want none of that talk in my house. Behave yourselves."

I closed my eyes tiredly, rubbing my face while Leon muttered a sorry to his wife and gave her a quick peck on the cheek. It reminded me how much I didn't miss the marital life.

"Mr Crane!" A young voice suddenly chimed from the stairs. I opened my eyes and found all three of Leon's children running down the staircase towards me. Brilliant.

"Mr Crane!" Their oldest, Lea, who had to be about 15 now, smiled happily. She'd had a crush on me ever since I picked her up from school once. Once.

"Lea," I tiredly said, not bothering with offering a smile. I think it would only hurt her infatuation with me.

"It's so good to see you again!" She smiled and blushed a little once she stopped in front of me. Her siblings were right behind her. "H-how have you been?"

I gave a look to Leon who's eyes challenged me to even mention the drugs and the Russian murder case. "I've been good. Nothing out of the ordinary."

"We heard you got divorced," She said, a little nervously. "We're so sorry."

"Oh yeah, that. I forgot. That was four months ago, let's not linger in the past."

Leon cleared his throat besides me and I fought the urge to roll my eyes. Apparently he preferred lying to his children instead of being upfront with them. Or at least he preferred I did.

"Hi, Mr Crane," Their younger daughter Sara carefully said from behind Lea. She had to be around 11 now.

"Hello, Sara," I said, giving her a nod. "You've grown two and a half inch since I last saw you."

She giggled a little, nervously fiddling with her purple dress. "Mummy says I'm getting taller each day."

"Well, all normal humans between the age of 0 to 25 have been proven to grow each—"

Leon cleared his throat again, a little louder this time, and I gritted my teeth. His kids nervously glanced at their dad who gave them a reassuring smile. "Excuse Mr Crane, he's a bit tired."

"That's an understatement."

"Russ."

I rolled my eyes and instead focused on their youngest kid JJ, who was about 6. He was the spitting image of Leon, whereas Sara and Lea had taken on Michelle's features. He was shy and was partially hiding behind his mother. "Hello, JJ."

He shyly covered himself behind Michelle who chuckled a little. "Come on Jackson, say hello to Mr Crane."

JJ shy mumbled a silent 'hello' before he disappeared into the living room. Michelle rolled her eyes. "I'm sorry about that, he's very shy these days."

I yawned behind my hand. "Don't care. Since you decided to bring me here Leon, I hoped you prepared a bed for me. Otherwise I will have no problem returning to the—"

"We did prepare you a bed," Leon cut in, sending me a warning glare. "In the guest bedroom. Lea set it up."

"I closed the blinds for you, just like you like it," Lea quickly said, smiling nervously.

"That's sweet of you to remember, thank you."

She started blushing at my seemingly harmless compliment, and I could feel Leon scorching me with his gaze in my peripheral vision. He cleared his throat for the final time before straightening out. "I say we let Mr Crane get some sleep before dinner. He looks like he could use it."

"And a shower," Michelle noted, eyeing up my one-week-old clothes, greased hair and stubbled jawline. Not to mention the reek of gin around me. "I expect you to clean yourself up before we eat."

I grunted indifferently. "Can I go sleep now?"

"Come on," Leon sternly said, leading me upstairs.

~~~

"So, detective," Michelle smiled, handing me a glass of gin before taking a seat next to me. "How are you really doing?"

I took a large sip of the heavenly alcohol and swilled it around in my mouth for a moment before swallowing. I then leaned my head back against the couch and exhaled, exhausted. "I'm doing exceptionally well, considering I haven't been working in two weeks."

"Bullshit," Leon contributed, coming into the living room as well, holding a beer. He took a seat in the lounger across from me. "We know you've been scoping out the cartel's old warehouses in the brief intervals you didn't dope up."

I pursed my lips and swirled the gin around in my glass. "I was mainly trying to keep my brain alive since you cops don't have the foggiest clue as to what you're really dealing with."

"We do, Russ. We might not be you, but we do."

Scoffing, I took another swig of my drink. It was after dinner and the kids had been put to sleep. Michelle wanted to sit me down and have a drink to 'reminisce the old days' as she had so eloquently put it. Translation; 'We want to poke and prod you and see how you're really doing.'

Almost on cue, Michelle placed a hand on my arm and looked sympathetically at me. "I really was sad to hear about your divorce with Janelle. What happened exactly?"

"If you want me to spill everything, you're going to need to get me a bigger glass," I said, holding up the almost empty glass of gin. "In fact, bring the bottle."

"When was the last time you talked to her?"

Pinching the bridge of my nose, I shut my eyes, knowing she wouldn't let it rest. "The day the final divorce papers needed to be signed. I believe her exact words to me were; 'Goodbye, Detective Crane. I hope you find the mystery you really want'."

"You saw her as a mystery?" Michelle voiced while Leon let her take the lead on this one.

"No, I saw love as a mystery, how stupid, really. I now see how simple it is. How useless." I downed the rest of my drink and set it down on the coffee table. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Michelle frown.

"I sometimes wonder what it must be like to be you," She then said, her voice changing tone. "The infamous Russell Crane, the mastermind and brilliant deductionist. Does it ever get lonely up on that shining pedestal you hoist yourself up on?"

"You were the one who put those labels on me."

"Oh no, I wasn't. We both know given the chance, you'd let the whole world know you're better than the rest of us," Michelle interrupted, crossing her legs. "But at the end of the day, you're still as human as the rest of us, Russell. You were created by the same God that created the—"

"There is no God, stop deceiving yourself."

"No, you stop deceiving yourself," Michelle snapped, sitting up. I turned my head to look at her when her voice raised. "You loved Janelle, Russell, you can explain it however you want, but you shared a real bond with her; a bond you only ever shared with mystery and enigmas before her!"

I pressed my lips into a flat line as Michelle paused to take a breath. Receiving a mouth-lashing was also one of the reasons I abandoned the marital life. Janelle—whenever she had gotten pissed and had given me one herself—usually went on for hours, lecturing me on shit I had no interest in whatsoever. Love, as obsessed as the rest of the world was with it, wasn't my thing. Janelle finally figured that out and left me. Hopefully Michelle and Leon would, too, soon.

"Leaving Janelle left a scar on you." Michelle finally said, sighing. "You're still recovering, all these things you are doing—burying yourself in your work, drinking and doing drugs, sleeping with that neighbor of yours..."

I instantly glared up and turned my eyes to Leon. "Since when did you become a gossip girl, Leon?"

He scoffed and sipped his beer. "I'm worried about you, Russ. You said it yourself, she's a nymphomaniac. I did a little background check on her and—"

"You did what?" I snapped. "You researched Amy?"

Leon slowly smirked and leaned back. "No, but would you look at that; You cared." When I scoffed and rolled my eyes, he chuckled. "Yeah, you're not the only one who can do mind games. Are you falling for this girl?"

I glared coldly at him and clenched my jaw. "No. She was a distraction from the drugs I wanted to take. When the Russians took a swing-by at my apartment, I made it clear to her that we were over. She got it, she understood it could harm her knowing me. As far as I'm concerned, she's out of the picture."

"Mm-hm." Leon sarcastically grunted. "Whatever you say, man. That's your business, we're just here having this conversation because we as your friends worry about you."

"Well that's a complete waste of time."

"Is it?" Michelle now voiced. "Because from where I'm sitting, you're one moment away from breaking down."

"Maybe you need to relocate, then."

"I'm serious," She said, pursing her lips. "Don't isolate yourself, come to us. We want to help you through this."

"Through what, exactly? What's your prognosis, doc?" I sarcastically drawled. "You've been shrinking me for nearly half an hour now, what's the diagnosis? Heartbreak? Trauma? Perhaps insanity?"

"Loneliness," She said. "You're lonely, Russell. You find comfort in mysteries because they can keep your head busy and distracted from the fact that you push people away. You're an individual, we all know that, and you feel left out."

"Jesus Christ, I need that bottle of gin now," I sighed. "Stop it, Michelle, don't bother analyzing me, not unless you want me to return the favor."

"You're are a detective," She stated, folding her arms. "Maybe you should put yourself under the magnifying glass for once and see what you find."

Gnashing my teeth, I abruptly stood up. "You don't get it, do you? I know I have problems, but I just don't care about them. The fact that you've taken on the task of trying to fix me is exhausting, because I don't want fixing," I snarled at Michelle. "I want a goddamn case, I want to sleep with whomever I want without being asked if I'm falling in love, and I want to take the fucking pantothenic acids I use to hype my brain without getting lectured like a rouge teenager by an old married couple who thinks they got the world down, just because they love each other," I turned to Leon who stood up when I clenched my fists. "Tell Michelle about Vegas. Let's see how strong your precious love will be then."

Turning on my heel, I grabbed my jacket and headed for the door. I didn't wait for their reply as I swung it open and walked out, heading for the main road. I hailed the first cab and got in, asking him to take me to my apartment.

I was done hiding. It was time to get back in the game. After all, I had a little girl to find.

~~~

I stepped over the threshold to my apartment and looked around. Someone had fixed it. Probably Leon. The furniture had been replaced and repaired—the apartment transformed back into an inhabitable place. My conscience told me to give him a call and thank him, but like always, I blocked that voice out and listened to my own; It told me to go to sleep.

I tiredly walked into my bedroom and looked at the fresh mattress and bedcovers. I let myself fall down into them, resting my head against the headboard and closed my eyes. God, I needed sleep. 

"You like that, baby? I know you do. You love my dick."

I opened my eyes again and listened to the sounds coming from the other side of the wall.

"Yeah, baby, oh yeah. I love your tits. Fuck, you feel so great."

Resisting the urge to scoff, I instead started massaging my temples. If that was his idea of bedroom talk, it was pathetic. I could think of so many things wrong with those words, and yet he was still the one fucking Amy.

The grunting noises kept going, but I hardly ever heard her make a sound. The bedsprings creaked, the pace quickened, but I couldn't hear her. Finally, I heard Maddox reach his climax, and with a long moan, the creaking of the bed stopped and was replaced with his short grunts.

"That felt so good, baby. I missed you. Was it good for you, too?"

Was he kidding? What woman wanted a man in the bedroom who had to question if what he did was good for her or not? Either he knew his shit well enough to know that he didn't need to ask, or he should be able to tell whether or not the woman was enjoying it. Obviously, he knew neither.

I heard muffled voices speak for a minute or two, but then they finally stopped. The noises died.

And if I didn't know better, I could have sworn a part of me did, too.

• • •

Denial is a bitch.