"So everything went okay last night?" Lynn asked me for about the fifth time that morning. We sat together in a small booth on the window side of the busy 8th Street Diner eating an uncomfortable breakfast. I looked at her over the rim of my coffee mug, taking a sip and then answering, "Yeah, I told you, things are fine." Noticing the tension between us, she hesitated at first, "...Zac, things aren't fine." I stopped chewing my mouth-full of eggs, narrowing my eyes in question, "What are you talking about? Don't you trust me when I tell you something?" "I don't trust you when you tell me things are fine after you have to go out late at night for business and then you don't want to talk about it. And dammit, Kenny doesn't send Fat Albert over there to follow me around for his health! Things are not fine," Lynn blurted out suddenly, pounding her fist on the table once. I turned in my seat to find Kenny's personal 'advocate', known to me only as Smitty, sitting alone in a booth against the restaurant's back wall. I could make out the impression of a gun in his sport coat's inside pocket, knowing full well he had been told to keep an eye on Lynn while various Maidens were on the loose. "Look, baby-," I began, reaching out my hand for hers. "Don't 'look baby' me," she jerked her arm away. "I'm sick of not knowing what's going on with you. I want you to talk to me like you used to." Just as I had gathered my defense, Tony entered the diner. He made his way over to us and plopped down next to me. "Oh, great- now it's a party," Lynn threw her arms in the air in frustration. Tony wasted no time by answering her, but turned his attention to my breakfast, "You gonna finish those eggs?" I glanced at him, annoyed as usual, and pushed my plate to him, "No, you can have them." Collecting my thoughts again, I returned my attention to her, but was soon distracted once more. She folded her arms and watched as my eyes focused on a dark man who had just come to sit at the diner's serving counter. His forearm bore the Maiden symbol. I nudged Tony in the ribs until I got a "What, man?" I nodded to where the Maiden sat. Tony swallowed my breaskfast, his vision glued to our enemy, and then slid one of his two guns under the table and into my hand. "Zac, don't even-" Lynn started, but I quickly hushed her. Without warning, the Maiden looked over his shoulder and saw us. The second Tony edged out of our booth, he leaped out of his chair and to the diner's door. Both Tony and I sprung from our seats, shoving through people so as not to lose track of him. Lynn began to shout my name, but I ignored her and ran out onto the street, still hot on the Maiden's trail. We followed him at top speed as he darted accross the street and into an alley behind the post office. Tony got ahead of me and withdrew his gun, aiming it at our runaway who was now climbing the fence at the end of the alley. He shot once. Missed. Tony shot a second time. Hit. The Maiden cried out in pain at the bullet lodged in his upper arm, and then fell to the ground on the opposite side of the fence. Seeing him begin to inch away, Tony raised his gun for a third time, prepared finish him off. But I had different plans. "Tony- Tony! Hold it!" I yelled to him. He didn't listen. "I said HOLD IT!" His target had managed make it around the other side of the building and out of range after the distraction I had caused. "Man, what the fuck?! I HAD him!" he shouted as I came towards him. Angered since he had not obeyed, I pushed him against the brick wall, getting in his face, "I don't care if you had your fuckin' mother! When I tell you to do something, you do it!"

"I want for you to stop." Lynn's words broke my hypnotic stare at the ceiling. The day had long since passed, time now nearing late evening. I turned my head to watch as she moved in from the bedroom's doorway and came to sit beside me on the bed. "I want for you to stop. Get out of this business, Zac," she repeated. I sat up, replying, "This business is my family." "The same family who got your brother killed," Lynn unknowingly took a stab at my heart. Almost involuntarily, my eyes began water and my bottom lip began to quiver. She saw the hurt on my face. "Oh no, sweetie, I'm sorry," she tried put her arms around me, but I shifted away. As done many times before, I fought back my tears and swallowed hard, then stood up and headed for the door. "I can't help you unless you let me!" Lynn cried at me. Facing her with my deepest emotion, I answered, "I don't want your help." She let me walk out of the room without saying a word and without a protest. But just as I was about to step out the front door, she called into the foyer, "Killing will never bring him back!"

I pulled a cigarette from behind my ear and lit it while I trudged along the street alone in thought. The sun was struggling to stay above the city horizon, but still able enough to light the well-worn way to my brother's grave. It was not an elaborate site; more appropriate than meaningful, if at all. I knelt in front of the tombstone, allowing my fingers to run over the engraved words. "In memory of a loving son and dedicated brother...," I mumbled to myself. Each time I visted this place my undying determination to find my brother's killer was renewed to an even stronger level. I would be laid to rest beside him before I gave up.