Volume VI: And Introducing Harley Morrow As - Herself

        There’s questions that need answering, naturally. Just a few simple questions along the way. First off - Sylum.

        Officer Sylum Bishop had a history with Doyle. There were close and watched each other’s backs for ages. They owed each other in ways we could only imagine and they had a bond beyond words. Whatever happened between them was between them, that’s all. And with Doyle dead, and Sylum’s lips sealed, we were left to speculate. So why was he still on board? Think about it. Requiem went to...interesting lengths to renew his loyalty. Which is kind of funny considering that Doyle and him already had a tight bond, unbeknownst to us. He sent her to him just to see if she’d do it. Do him. For the family. And she did. Sylum was always on our team.

        And what about the history with Serkis? Being with the law, don’t you think him and her had a run in or two from time to time?

        Requiem returns - Sylum knew she wasn’t really dead. He never had a body to get rid of. So he always knew. And was he going to screw her over? He knew what she was capable of. He knew her limits from afar. And he wasn’t going to be named traitor. So he swore allegiance to Serkis. Why? Because she was truly loyal. Despite the cost. It was safer with Serkis than it was with Requiem. The lesser of the two evils. Though both were ruthless, there was a defining factor that separated Requiem - she was clinically fucking insane. Case and point.

        I worked a few nights, as usual, getting back into the routine. Returning to my roots. I didn’t see the others for a while. They had to know. But they had no idea of what I’d seen. I wrote it down when I got home from work that night. I wrote it down. I drew pictures. I did everything I artistically could to get it out. And nothing was good enough. I couldn’t put to terms what I knew, what I remembered. What I’d never forget. I tried like hell but everything fell short. I worked harder, moved faster, but the result was still the same. I would simply have to live with this. I’d deal. As expected.

        I was on my way back from the bar when I came home to find Serkis standing around. She was alone. She had a sheet of paper in her hand; she dropped it back on the table absentmindedly. It was one of a series of vent sheets. One of the several scattered pages that had the truth scrawled all over them. She turned to face me.

        “I’m sorry,” she whispered. The sound of her voice echoed in the apartment, even though the initial statement was low enough that I was sure if I didn’t know she’s spoken, I would’ve missed it. I stood there for a moment, subconsciously dropping my keys on the table next to me, emptying my pockets. I took a few steps toward her.

        “Why?”

        She shrugged. “This isn’t your fight. This is...”

        “Family business, right?” I finished her thought. She looked down to try and catch the momentum I’d tripped up.

        “You should get out of town for awhile. You know, until this settles out.”

        “You want me to run?” I was edging closer to her; she held her ground. “You want me to turn my back on all I’ve got left and take off? Just like that? And go where? Huh?”

        “We know people. We’ll find you a place. You’ll never be without a safe haven.”

        “Are you so certain?”

        She looked me dead in the eye, her own eyes moist. She closed her lips hard, forcing the tears back, holding them down until it hurt. “She’s pregnant, Harley. Requiem is pregnant. I’m going to be an aunt. And she’s going to tear what’s left apart. If we don’t get to her first. We have work to do. And I don’t want you caught in the crossfire anymore.”