#( ft; kathryn haringer. )

[ender-yilmaz]

WHERE: The Black Rabbit WITH: @kathrynharinger

There was something charming about The Black Rabbit– even Ender could admit that. It was the way the speakeasy seemingly transported him back in time to a point in American history that he understandably knew very little about, but could still respect. Ender always appreciated any opportunity to educate himself, and despite his need to drive the Sons of Silence into the ground, he could still appreciate the space around him and the threads of nostalgia woven into every nook and cranny of the place. Seated at the bar, he finished off the drink in his hands and waved a hand at the blonde who passed. “You the owner?” He called out, knowing very well that she wasn’t. No, the devil he sought wore a reaper, but Ender had to suspect that this woman was entrusted with at least some of his secrets– why else would she be here, helping manage this bar, if Cole Monroe didn’t trust her? “Gotta pay my compliments to someone– this Old Fashioned is one of the best I’ve had,” he continued, keeping his tone light, carefree, and conversational. It was all part of the front he’d worked so hard to perfect over the years. No, he wasn’t undercover, but for now, he was virtually unknown within this town– he’d play that advantage for as long as he could.

[colemonroe]

WHERE: Two Kings Casino WITH: @kathrynharinger

It had been a few days since the vote passed, but Cole had yet to reach out to Kathryn to let her know it had swung in her favor. Between organizing gun runs and filtering through countless orders at Reaper Crew, he’d been somewhat distracted, but upon spotting her at the ball, Cole felt it was as good a time as any to make an approach. Grabbing two champagne flutes off a waiter’s tray as he passed by, he made his way over to her. Sidling up beside her, he casually offered one of the flutes her way, “Business or pleasure?” Her reason for being here, that was. In their brief encounters, he hadn’t quite figured out if this was Kathryn’s scene or not. But to be fair, it wasn’t Cole’s at all.

[nelliedecker]

who: @kathrynharinger where: the lost word

Nellie had never been book smart, so one could imagine just how out of place she felt in a book store. But Devon was and she was trying to find something to cheer him up. Something non-fiction about tech felt too on the head, and who wanted to read about work when you weren't working? But with a guilty feeling in her gut, she realized she hadn't much of a clue what else he was interested in these days, and felt in over her fucking head here, which was not a feeling she suffered well. Approaching the front, she figured she'd bite the bullet and ask for help. "Alright, I'm looking for a book for a computer nerd" affectionate, "But I don't wanna be too on the nose about it, so I'm thinking something fiction maybe? Nothing too Ender's Game, though, you know?" she asked without much of any type of greeting.

[colemonroe]

WHERE: The Lost Word WITH: @kathrynharinger

Simply put, the elusive blonde better known as Kathryn was somewhat of an enigma to Cole, and any time the Sons President felt even an inkling of curiosity, he was almost catlike in the way he had to pursue it. At the Fourth of July celebration– before it all had gone to shit– she’d given him a business card, complete with a cryptic message he’d been all too eager to decode. But it was hard for Cole to do that when he wasn’t quite sure what the fuck he was looking at in the first place. Perhaps that was all part of the allure. Whatever it was, it had him striding into The Lost Word, a half-smoked Marlboro in one hand and her business card in the other. “Ain’t much of a reader,” he started, announcing his presence as though the bell in the doorway didn’t already do that for him. Still, he liked to think that shrill ring wasn’t quite as distinctive as his slow, southern drawl. “But you’ve got my attention, Har-” he paused, his brow wrinkling as he glanced down at her card, pretending to double check the name, “Haringer.”

[ender-yilmaz]

Ender didn’t miss it– the way she eyed him the moment he said something even slightly cryptic. To anyone else, a mere comment about hoping whatever entity existed not watching him too closely might’ve passed by rather innocuously, but it wasn’t lost on him the way Kathryn appeared to take notice. It might’ve meant nothing, but considering her close ties to the Sons of Silence, nothing meant nothing to Ender, and so he just nodded, listening closely to her follow-up. There wasn’t anything particularly useful in her response, but it did shine a light on who she was, and where she placed stock– maybe it meant nothing now, but it might be something to played on later if she really was wrapped up with the Sons. “Good for you,” he supplied, and he genuinely meant it, “I’m still getting there,” when it came to getting good with the big man, that was. Despite growing up in a very traditional religious home, Ender had strayed quite a bit– by now, he was considered non-practicing at best, but he was still quite spiritual.  “I can appreciate that,” he chuckled, nodding as he raised his drink to his lips. He’d always appreciated anyone who could get straight to the point, regardless of what that looked like. “That’s fair,” Ender supplied, shrugging his shoulders, and in a rare moment of vulnerability, he divulged a little– just a little, “Right time, right person…people preach that over and over, but I’m not so sure. Stars have to practically align nowadays.” He’d thought he had both of those things once, but he’d been proven wrong much later than what he’d preferred. Lifting a brow, he chuckled, “Just five? Pretty sure we’ve been at it for at least ten, so if you’re beyond bored, feel free to let me know,” Ender teased, his way of just carrying on the conversation and keeping them both engaged.

Hopefully not too closely. It was enough to have Kathryn eyeing him over her drink. It was a momentary slip, watching like a hawk — searching for something tangible. Reading people wasn't like the movies. She couldn't figure out his thoughts by the way he moved his eyes or the tonal changes in his voice, but subtlety was an interesting part of the whole. "Everyone makes mistakes in life. I got good with the big man a long time ago." She hadn't. In fact, it was something she battled with often. Her faith. However, it'd often battled against her obvious love for space, and the science that came with it. Her father had been the exact same.

She missed her parents, she truly did. And it was something she was pretty sure she'd never fully overcome. She was pretty sure no one did. However, the notion that their love had inspired Ender to have his own — well, that was the silver lining, right?

"What can I say? I was never one to beat around the bush." Lie. There were many people who could contest to the contrary. However, she didn't hesitate to continue talking, as if it'd washed right off her back. "No, never married," the thought ludacris to Kathryn, unable to even comprehend. Her life had been so different from others, the chance of such a life had always seemed like a pipedream. "Never felt right for me. I never had enough stability." Until now, and even that was on shaky ground right now. "Or, I don't know. Maybe I just never met the right person." She shrugged, as if brushing away the topical conversation about the state of her life, or better yet, her love life. It had remained in dire straits for a good five years at this point. She wasn't one to divulge too much. Usually she spoke in riddles, half-truths and lies.

"Plus, small talk only interests me for five minutes."

[ender-yilmaz]

Chuckling softly, Ender offered up a lazy, half-shrug, features warming with amusement, “Hopefully not watching too closely,” he mused aloud, tone light and teasing. He’d grown up in a traditional, religious household, but over time, he’d felt his belief system shift to the point where he wasn’t entirely sure where he stood anymore. He pushed that thought aside though, finding it much too heavy for the lighthearted mood they were enjoying. “They are,” he agreed to her descriptor of quite something, head nodding gently. Despite their struggles, Furkan and Nevin had truly tried to give Ender and his siblings every opportunity to succeed. “Thank you for saying that.” He knew that Kathryn didn’t really know him or his story, but he’d take any opportunity to praise his parents, whether someone knew them or not. 

“Work. That whole data analysis thing I was talking about,” he answered, sipping at his drink. She was right, Tonopah wasn’t exactly on his list when he thought about a change in scenery, but it could be way worse and Ender knew that. As long as Layla was content here, he could find a way to be up until they had to move again. “Starting off with all the personal questions, huh?” He teased, chuckling softly before shaking his head, “No– not married, never have been.” And it wasn’t due to him being opposed to the idea, it was just a leap of faith he hadn’t had the opportunity to take. For the last five years, the idea of marriage had fallen onto the back burner, with Layla being his first priority, and he was alright with that. “You?”

"When I moved here, the town helped me find my feet. I can only extend it forward — big man's watching us all, am I right?"

She rarely met someone who genuinely cared about something other than themself — this man had a rare earnestness about him. "Your parents must have been quite something," voice softer, almost wistful. "It's not easy raising a child, let alone teaching them values that stick. They did a good job." was it the con artist in her that made it so easy to speak to strangers or hospitality...or even yet, that she might not be such an awful person after all? That the contempt she held towards herself wasn't all that bad.

She took another sip of her drink, a pang of something she couldn't quite name — was it jealousy? Nostalgia? Her parents had long been gone, and there wasn't a day that went by where she didn't miss them. They'd turn in their graves if they saw the life she'd led. Sticklers for the law, always on the right side of it. Not much could be said in regards to their daughter in her later years.

She brushed it aside, refocusing. He was a puzzle, and Kathryn loved puzzles. Much like she loved her riddles, that she was yet to impart on him. "So, what brought you to Tonopah? It's not exactly the first place people think of when they want a change of scenery." Taking the stool a moment later. "It's a small place. People around here get...FBI qualifications when they want to find out who moved here." it was, of course, a joke. Finished off with that usual, girlish laugh.

"Married?"

[ender-yilmaz]

“So I’ve been told,” he returned with a fleeting grin. There’d been a point, back in his university days, when Ender hadn’t quite known the meaning of that word– moderation. But in no time, he’d seen the danger in that when he’d witnessed classmates die at the hands of their overindulgence. Since then, Ender hadn’t strayed very far from moderation, but he wasn’t falting Kathryn for her sentiment, or judging her for it. To each their own and Ender wasn’t one to overstep and preach about his experiences. She was easy enough to talk to without all that and he preferred to keep it lighthearted. 

“It can be,” intense, that was, but not for the reasons he’d been leading her to believe. The kind of analysis he did often boiled down to whether or not he needed to pull a trigger– hence it being intense. Chuckling softly, he shook his head, “You know, I get that a lot, but…it’s probably not safe in there,” he supplied, reaching up to tap the side of his head. “I do enjoy it. There’s…parts that are difficult, parts that I hate, but…I like to think that even those parts are for the greater good,” he explained, falling quiet soon after in fear that he was already rambling.  Nodding, he raised his drink to his lips, “Sure, I might take you up on that.” Really, he wasn’t so sure he needed a guide in a town this size, but Ender wanted to be polite, and if he was honest, he wanted to be nosy. Kathryn was working for an outlaw, and even an establishment as nice as this one didn’t erase that or alter it in any way. “It is a fun age,” he continued on, happy to focus the conversation on his daughter, “She’s so full of life, into everything. I know she misses Phoenix, but she’s so open to getting to know this place too.” And that alone was his saving grace. Smiling warmly, he shrugged a shoulder, never really knowing how to take praise he wasn’t so sure he deserved, “It’s how my parents were,” he supplied, attributing any of his positive parenting traits to things he’d learned from their example. “Any good thing I’ve learned, I learned from them.”

"Moderation is for those that don't quite know how to enjoy life," a cheeky smile turning cheeks rosy, as she realised maybe she had overindulged herself.

No one is perfect. If she'd been interested in moderation, she would've never become a con artist. Kathryn took a moment to situate herself, leaning back against the bar where she could see the room and took a moment to study Ender. There was nothing wrong with self-confidence, and from the looks of it, the man before her was the kind of man who looked like he'd have it in the bucket loads, and yet, she couldn't quite figure him out. Who are you? That was the question she wanted to ask, but she'd only get a surface-level answer...so, she did what she did best.

"Data analysis, huh? Sounds pretty intense. Must take a lot of patience and attention to detail — I'd love to get a look into that brain of yours." Taking her drink, she took a prolonged sip, before her brow arched. "Do you enjoy it, or is it just a means to an end?" was that too invasive? She'd never been good a "small-talk" per say.

Honestly, she wondered if he knew what this place had to offer. "I doubt I'm the best person to offer, but...I could always give you a tour. Being new to town and all can be tough. Was me literally just over a year ago."

Kathryn softened momentarily, the crow's feet around her eyes smoothing out. The mention of his daughter caused such a happy feeling, yet such sadness followed in such a brief window. "Five? Such a wonderful age. They're always so full of curiosity and...unending energy, aren't they?"

"Tonopah's gotta couple of good spots for kids. There's a small park just a few blocks down, lots of green space, decent playground. Not too shabby at all." Pausing, her head tilted. "Making sure your daughter adjusts well shows a lot about your character. Not everyone would be that considerate."

[ender-yilmaz]

“Everything in moderation, no?” He countered, raising a brow as he chuckled. Ender knew his limits, thankfully, and would stop after one– technically, he was here on business and needed his wits about him. But in the moment, it was easy enough to humor Kathryn, if for no other reason than to help him slide into that unassuming role, rather than give her much reason to suspect him of anything. No, Ender wasn’t undercover, but was choosing to reveal who he was and who he worked for on a timeline that worked best for him. Right now, it was too early to pull the trigger and so sure, sue him for ordering a zombie at the behest of a beautiful woman. He could play that role easily enough up until the moment he couldn’t.

“There’s nothing wrong with self-confidence,” Ender assured her, shoulders lifting in a gentle shrug, “It’s not a bad quality to have.” He really did mean that part of their interaction– there was nothing feigned in the way he praised her efforts. Really, he just hated that taking down the Sons would likely put a hitch in many of the plans she’d made– a hard worker like her deserved better than that, at least as far as he could tell. “Have to agree with you there– I’ve never been able to sit still for too long,” he started with a laugh, knowing internally that he’d rather be shot in the head than stay bored for too long. Smirking gently as she inquired about his work, Ender tipped his head in side in thought, “Honestly, it’s not that interesting– a lot of data analysis, a lot of deep diving into piles of shit,” he rambled on, waving a hand and appearing to be bored to tears as he churned up some generic explanation of his work. It didn’t offer up much, but it was far better than pulling the ATF trigger too soon. 

Snorting a laugh, he raised his drink to his lips and shrugged, “I look forward to it,” to figuring out Tonopah, that was. Really, he wasn’t actually all that excited about it, but Kathryn didn’t need to know that. Honestly, Ender wanted to do what he was called to and then get the fuck out as soon as possible. “Yeah, this is great,” he agreed, darting a look around the speakeasy, “You’re right, you know? About this place taking you back in town. It’s a good atmosphere.” All bias aside, he actually did mean that. It was a cool spot, somewhere he’d maybe frequent if he didn’t plan on burning the owner down. 

“I appreciate that,” Ender nodded, willing to soak up any tips she had to offer because surely…one of them would lead to something actually worth his while, and maybe? Maybe it’d help build his ticket out of this little hellhole. “I’ll take any advice you’re willing to give me.” Sipping at his drink, he smiled gently, just as he always did when the conversation shifted to Layla. “She’s five. Full of life, quite the pistol– I was planning on taking her to a painting class sometime soon, see if she latches onto it. I want to make this move as easy on her as I can, you know?”

"Don't drink too many of them. They're lethal. But worth it, especially if you want to forget for an hour or two. I mean, this is exactly what this place is meant to be about. A flashback in time." Kathryn maintained that taught, polite smile, as con artistry taught most: she maintained reservation and erred on the side of caution. With the Bartello's interested in her whereabouts for the murder of their oldest son, anyone could be potentially dangerous. And yet, he didn't seem innocuous. In fact, he seemed perfectly normal, friendly even.

Could she think everyone was a suspect? Forever?

With a shake of her head, she brushed it away, no she couldn't.

"Humble, somewhat." Head tilting from side to side. "I'm self-confident, some might say narcissistic, but I know what I want. I said I wanted to start a business, so I did." lips titling, her proudness shining. "This is more of a side gig. Boredom and me don't mix, honestly." A pause, a narrowing of her gaze. She walked over until her hip lay against the bar and arms folded at her middle. "Sorry, what is it you do, exactly?" realising she was talking about herself. Flipping the conversation transitional.

"Well, welcome — to the neighborhood, and — well, I'll let you figure this place out for yourself." She didn't want to terrify the poor guy before he'd even settled in. This place had enough going on that he'd find out...eventually. She'd leave him in ignorant bliss for as long as possible. "This is a good place to drink, though. People are friendly, boss is fair." Her gaze lingered on him for a moment longer than necessary, assessing, probing, trying to gauge whether his presence was a mere coincidence or something more calculated, her mouth tilting into that sweetened smile.

Who are you...the question beckoned to be asked? Not yet, another voice muttered.

The bartender, one of the better ones, slid another drink across the counter with an ease that came with experience. Kathryn's fingers responded by tracing the rim of her glass, a subtle gesture of her contemplation. "If you ever need any recommendations for places to visit or things to do around here, feel free to ask. I've been here only about a...year? And I know the places that you need when you start up fresh, versus..." she pretended to look around at the locals, leaning forward as she dropped her voice to a mocking whisper. "The places the locals will tell you to go...some of them are quite expensive. Especially with a daughter �� mind if I ask how old?" it was a genuine question. She often found children endearing.

[colemonroe]

“‘preciate that,” Cole murmured, referring to her willingness to speak to the club. But for now, he didn’t think it was needed. “Right now, it needs to come from me, but if we get beyond that? We’ll set somethin’ up,” he assured her, head nodding firmly. The road to earning both his trust and the club’s was a long, arduous one to walk, but Cole didn’t doubt Kathryn’s ability to navigate it. She seemed determined and persistent enough, if this little back and forth dance they’d been doing was anything to go by. Cole glanced at her, a flicker of amusement darting across his features at her offer. “Sounds fair enough,” he agreed, confident that after that first delivery, they could figure out a reasonable split. 

When it came to talking about the future, Cole didn’t see a point in hiding his thoughts from her. If she was getting in bed with the club, she deserved to know what his plans looked like, as well as the role she’d play in them. A soft smile curved at the corner of his mouth, “I ain’t much, but I’m a man of my word, Kathryn.” Sometimes, it felt like his word was all he had, and perhaps it didn’t seem like much, but Cole knew he was nothing without it. “Got too many people countin’ on that long game, y’know?” He continued, head shaking gently. One day, he knew he’d have to think about it and begin to untangle the complicated web the club had woven within the criminal underground. He didn’t even know where to start, and the mere thought was enough to make his head spin. Thankfully, he didn’t have to untangle it today, but potentially bringing Kathryn on as an ally would help when the day did come. 

Snorting a laugh at her comment about his forwardness, Cole shrugged a shoulder, “Ain’t one to beat around the bush– surely ya can respect that.” Sobering a moment later, he nodded, grateful that this little chat had ended vastly different from how it had begun. The air itself felt lighter and Cole found that the tension in his shoulders ebbed and flowed like an outgoing tide. Visibly relaxed, his characteristic crooked smirk appeared at the idea of them becoming friends, and he winked, “We’ll see, Ridd’ler.” Straightening, he nodded once more, and turned to make his exit, “Have a good night– you’ll hear from me soon.”

"I'm willing to speak to them, if they all want to hear my side of things. A meeting, if you will," she gestured to him, before crossing her arms over her lower stomach with a knowing smile.

Kathryn couldn't help but that deep flicker of respect for Cole, the kind that was part of the reasoning that she thought about him in her investigations. Despite the precarious situation they found themselves in, she was willing to lean on it just a little. She recognized that loyalty to the club and the people within it. She could feel that it ran deep, and she respected the kind of dedication that took to maintain something that was spread further than just the borders of Tonopah. Kathryn understood the weight of trust and the rarity of loyalty in their world. It was a currency more valuable than gold, and she had no intentions of squandering it.

"I guess I'll have to prove my loyalty," Kathryn eyed him. "First shipment that's safely delivered. I'll let you have all the earnings. After that, we can come to an arrangement on the pay." She pursed her lips. "Call it a gesture of good will,"

Kathryn took a moment, allowed herself to watch him closely. Cole's response, and then his unexpected revelation about the club's changing dynamics, was enough to have her nodding, a ghost of a smile spreading over her lips. Kathryn didn't show surprise or alarm; she maintained her composure. Just as she had many times before. Instead of interrupting, she listened carefully, absorbing every word. This was a man who didn't sugarcoat things, who spoke candidly about the club's business and its future. And that was something she appreciated, especially after the game they'd been tiptoeing around for some time.

"When that day comes," she echoed, understanding the unspoken implications. Change was inevitable, and adaptation was key to survival. If Cole saw the potential for their networks to merge in a way that benefited both sides, then he was thinking strategically, playing the long game as he put it. And Kathryn was willing to play the same game if it allowed security for her and Fender. Especially with the New York Mafia looking for them.

Kathryn leaned forward slightly, her crimson lips curving into a knowing smile. "I appreciate your honesty, Cole," she said sincerely. "Playing the long game is something I respect."

The tension in the room seemed to ease ever so slightly, and Kathryn allowed herself to relax just a fraction. It was a risky move she had made, approaching the Sons of Silence with this proposition, but it seemed like they were on the path to finding common ground. She knew there were still many details to work out, negotiations to be had, and trust to be built, but it was a start.

"Askin' me out for dinner already. How forward," she mused, "Tell me a time and a place and I'm sure we can arrange a business dinner." She gave him a nod, her declaration that she was on the same page.

Alliances were forged in the crucible of necessity. Kathryn and Cole had taken the first step towards a collaboration that could reshape the criminal landscape they both operated in.

"I think we might become very good friends, Cole." Kathryn pushed to stand. "And allies, I hope."

[colemonroe]

She was bold, he’d give her that. Kathryn stood toe-to-toe with him when others were far too afraid to. Cole had to admire that, even if he wasn’t particularly fond of the way she’d elected to get his attention. He could give her a pass though, depending on how sensible and profitable her ideas were. Everyone had a price, and Cole’s was largely determined by what made the most sense for the club and minimized their risk. If Kathryn could accomplish both of those things with her proposal, he’d bring it to the table, lay all the cards out so to speak. But if she couldn’t? Then this conversation was over well before it even started. 

But Cole was still standing there, which meant he still held a shred of belief in whatever she had to tell him. If he didn’t, he would’ve been long gone by now, a trail of ashes in his wake. Despite the tension closing in all around them, Cole managed a soft scoff of laughter at her comment about only having just decorated. Truth be told, he hadn’t spared even a moment to notice, his focus so squarely on the woman in front of him and not pulling the trigger. 

Swallowing thickly, he nodded, so desperately wanting to believe her– that she wouldn’t derail what the club already had going. It wasn’t even the business standpoint that he cared about– it was knowing that any misstep could hurt the guys he cared about, and potentially their families too. Cole could never risk that. Rocking back on his heels, his Beretta at his side, Cole actually listened and dared to hear her out because contrary to the stage he’d set, he actually wanted to reach a common ground– it just had to make sense for his club. Of course, he understood the way that business could shift and force someone to look at different options. Naturally, the Sons of Silence were an option that had popped up on her radar– he could respect that, even if it left him riddled with paranoia. 

“Allies ya can trust,” he repeated back to her, brows raising as his head dipped into a nod because he got it. Cole was hard pressed to trust anyone outside of the club. That sort of loyalty couldn’t be bought and sold, at least not when it came to him. He needed something a bit more in order to believe it was actually real– a side effect of being fucked over more times than he could count. “Loyalty is pretty fuckin’ hard to come by,” he agreed, tipping his head to the side, “Especially in the lives we lead.” If she understood that, then surely she understood the consequences of shitting all over that loyalty too, right? Cole didn’t feel particularly pressed to remind her. 

It was a good thing she wasn’t asking for blind trust, because Cole knew it wasn’t something he could give her. But a partnership built on something more concrete? It was a solid maybe. “You’re not wrong,” he agreed, shifting his weight between his feet, “But of course– ya know it ain’t up to me. It’s whatever my club decides. I’ll bring it to ‘em though– once you and me work out specifics.” It was all he could offer her at this point and even though it hardly seemed like a lot, it was. He was a man who trusted no one and here he was, willing to give her the benefit of the doubt, choosing to trust that she wouldn’t burn him for it. But if she did? Cole trusted she knew how that would end too. 

As she turned the spotlight back around on him, Cole couldn’t hide his surprise. It came in the form of a wry smile and a simple shrug– a clear show that he was contemplating it. But the truth was? No one had ever asked him about an endgame before, and it caught him off guard. It was a loaded question, one he’d often spent entire nights pondering when sleep insisted on evading him. In that moment, he knew he could spin whatever narrative he wanted, but…Cole was nothing if not a man of his word. He wouldn’t lie to her, even if she wasn’t yet an ally, or even a friend. But because she already knew at least a sliver of what the Sons were about, Cole felt inclined to give her some truth. “Guns weren’t in the club’s original blueprint, but right now it makes sense to keep runnin’ ‘em,” he admitted openly. He figured he owed her that much, especially if she was looking to get in bed with them. ���One day it won’t.”  Whether or not that day was rapidly approaching, Cole wasn’t sure. He had to prepare for it anyway. Perhaps Kathryn was instrumental in doing that. “When that day comes, havin’ a network like yours that could absorb the club’s business ain’t really somethin’ I can turn a blind eye to.” In a nutshell, it was him admitting that maybe, just maybe, he might need her. He didn’t want to need her– no, Cole never did relish the idea of bringing anyone into the bloody fold the MC had become part of. But that was how they survived, wasn’t it? “Guess ya could say I’m playin’ the long game here,” he continued, shrugging his shoulders and offering up a small, yet sly smile, “As far as my personal legacy goes…you’ll have to take me out to dinner first– it’s a little more complicated than guns.”

"Being smart is the one thing I'm good at, and why I'm sat here right now," Kathryn wasn't full of herself, but when she knew something, she knew she was right.

Knowing he didn't want to blow her brains out was an obvious bonus. But still, one wrong word and they might very well find out what that looked like. With a hum under her breath, she nodded. "Good, I just decorated."

The tension in the room was suffocating, Kathryn guessed it was better than her office being painted with her brains. Tilting her chin, she looked at the gun again. If he was to pull the trigger, this would be the end. Maybe she should've approached it different but if she was being honest she wasn't sure how she'd acomplish that. Regardless, Kathryn held her ground. She knew that this was a pivotal moment, a make-or-break conversation that could shape her future in ways she couldn't yet predict. Looking up to his face again, she could feel Cole's gaze bore into hers, could sense the weight of his scrutiny, his assessment of her words and intentions.

She'd loved always loved riddles, but now was not the time.

"I wouldn't dream of messing with what you already have for you men," When he asked for criminal-to-criminal talk, Kathryn's lips curved into a wry smile. This was the part she had been waiting for, the moment when the masks were shed, and they could discuss the reality openly. "No bullshit, then," she confirmed.

His line of questioning was direct, hitting at the core of their potential collaboration, and yet, that iron in his hand was enough to shake anyone to the core. Her motives were rather simple and asking what she could bring to the table only had that slow smirk spreading across crimson painted lips, Kathryn leaned back slightly, considering her response carefully. "I've been a lone operator for years," Lie. She had Fender but she wasn't going to bring this to his door if everything went to shit. She'd ventured out on her own in this, and when the time was right, bring him in.

Kathryn chose a tone that reflected a mix of pragmatism and vulnerability. "But I've reached a point where I can't go on like that. My dynamics are shifting, and I need allies I can trust."

Leaning in once more, she fixed him with a determined gaze. "I get money and thrill, what more,'' She admitted. "and maybe some friends along the way," She eyed him a moment longer, before she leaned back and crossed her legs. "The security of knowing I'm not alone, that I have someone who has my back in a world where loyalty can be hard to come by." Her voice was tinged with a hint of emotion, revealing a layer of vulnerability that she seldom allowed others to see.

Kathryn's fingers unconsciously traced the edge of the table as she continued, "I'm not asking for blind trust, Cole. I'm proposing a partnership built on shared goals and mutual benefit. Our skills complement each other. With your club's reach and my connections, we could carve out a significant niche in this town."

She paused, giving him a chance to absorb her words, to process the implications of what she was offering. "But I need to know your intentions too. What's your endgame in all of this? Beyond the immediate gains, what's the legacy you're working toward?"

[ender-yilmaz]

Eyes widened as the woman listed off the ingredients of this so called zombie, Ender blew out a breath, one hard enough to flutter his lips as a laugh rumbled deep in his chest, “Well, that sounds like the first of many questionable decisions I plan on making tonight,” he teased with a low whistle, though he nodded at the bartender, giving him the go-ahead to queue up one of these concoctions for him. 

Turning his attention back to the blonde, he nodded, making a mental note of her name. If her picture wasn’t up on the board of Sons affiliates yet, he felt sure it would be soon enough, especially if Cole trusted her enough to help run this place. Naturally, Ender had to suspect that there was more to it– there had to be, right? “Kathryn– pleasure to meet you.” Chuckling softly as she praised the team members, he gave a slow nod, a hint of a grin forming at the corner of his mouth, “Ah, so you’re humble too? Something to be said for that,” he commended, and he genuinely meant that, despite the touch of playfulness in his tone. Hearing that she owned the bookstore, he jotted down that little mental note too, “That right? I’ll have to stop by, maybe bring my daughter.”

Glancing over at the band for a moment, he clapped again, having always been one to appreciate music. Ender himself was a self-taught pianist– his appreciation for the highly improvised nature of jazz was self-explanatory, in his mind. “A hand in it,” he repeated, turning back to Kathryn and arching a brow at her, “You should give yourself more credit, Kathryn. It is a nice touch, though– gives the place more personality.” 

Having expected her question, Ender reached for the drink the bartender set in front of him and nodded, “I’m new here,” he offered, shrugging a shoulder, “Moved here for work and am just trying to get fully settled, you know?”

Feedback this early on was always great, especially when it was complementive. Each word had her buzzing internally, excited to tell Cole that all this hard work wasn't for nothing. That it was finally being noticed.

If only she knew the truth.

Ender's inquiry about the zombie had Kathryn's smile widening, nodding her head towards the shelf that was stacked with various alcohols behind the bar. "You've got not one, not two, but three types of rum: Jamaican, Puerto Rican, and a whopping 151-proof. Then, throw in some fresh lime juice, falernum, grenadine for sweetness, absinthe, and to finish off, a cinnamon-flavored simple syrup mixed with fresh grapefruit juice. It's divine."

When the male introduced himself as Ender, his extended hand before her, Kathryn reciprocated the gesture with a firm handshake. "Kathryn Haringer," she replied with a nod, "I'm co-manager. Just helping to see this place reach it's full potential, really." a hint of pride evident in her tone. Although, there was far more to it that met the eye. And more than this gentleman would ever need to know. "But I couldn't do it without the team. It's truly a collaborative effort."

"The owner and I are friends, I actually own the bookstore in town, The Lost Word." Jabbing her thumb over her shoulder in no direction in particular. "I sell rare, or special editions of novels -- this really was just me doing business to further myself. I haven't lived here long." arms wrapping around herself, as she signalled to the bar tender to grab two drinks.

Kathryn face lit up when she smiled, her gaze shifting briefly to the jazz band as they wrapped up their set with a flourishing finale note that had the room, quiet, and then the parade of an applause, she hummed an appreciation, bringing her own hands up to clap along. "Thank you, yes, I had a...I guess you could call it, hand in bringing them on board. Live music seemed like the missing piece for The Black Rabbit."

Why was he here though? Questions that Kathryn always asked, always aware of her surrondings. New York had never truly left her. And now...with them closing in? "What brings you here? I don't believe I've seen you around before."

[colemonroe]

Cole was something like a wild animal when prodded. He took to it about as well as a lion would, with his natural inclination being to raise his hackles and bear his fangs– or in this case, a Beretta. Curious, narrowed eyes studied her, catching that gleam of sincerity in her eyes that he hadn’t seen before. Still, if he knew anything about Kathryn, it was that she was especially adept at putting up a front, and so it wasn’t enough to sway him. Not yet. “Prob’ly ought not to do that, darlin’,” he advised, head knocking in a brief shake. Playing games with the wrong people had a way of landing the loser six feet under. Luckily for her, Cole detested violence against women, and so even though he held the barrel of his gun level with her forehead, hurting her wasn’t in the cards. She didn’t need to know that, though– not just yet. “Respectable, to a point,” he continued, regarding why she’d sought him out specifically. It was respectable, where he took issue was the games they’d played to get to this point. 

As she revealed more about herself, Cole relaxed the slightest bit– the index finger that had been tucked against the trigger, poised to pull it, moved aside, now resting against the gun’s frame instead. Even so, he shook his head, a brief show of his impatience and need for her to get to the point, “Only language I’m interested in is the one that keeps us both alive. Got that one in your repertoire?” He questioned, lifting a brow at her. 

Regardless, Cole could appreciate her attention to detail and the way she leaned on intuition. He’d always been largely the same way– that knowledge of when to shut the fuck up and when to speak couldn’t be taught. It was some innate thing that they’d both appeared to learn through time and experience. Darting a glance around at the walls as Kathryn mentioned the addition her brains might make to it, Cole shrugged simply, “Maybe,” he offered before redirecting his attention to her, “Personally, I don’t wanna find out.” He meant that genuinely. While Cole could easily be just as cold and ruthless as they came, that wasn’t his default setting. He’d rather seek out a solution before siding with violence. 

Swallowing hard, he nodded, internalizing what she said because the truth? Cole wasn’t accustomed to people seeing something in him. Even as a child, the most he’d been seen as was a punching bag, both in the literal and figurative sense, so to hear that a stranger saw something more? Naturally, he’d acknowledge that. “Nah, I’m not,” he agreed, straightening somewhat– he appreciated her awareness of that, how he wasn’t just another player. Cole had worked hard to get where he was and had learned from the best. Despite the way that slow southern drawl sounded, he was no fool. Uneducated, maybe, but brilliant in his own right– all he knew was outlaw. Since he was a child, he’d been all too good at doing bad things, and this was where that had led him. 

“No trail– smart,” he murmured, taking note of how untraceable she’d made herself– like a ghost, almost. It was something he could appreciate, seeing as he kept himself up at night trying to figure out ways to make the club’s gun trade more discreet. Anonymity was gold and he was always looking for ways to cash in. In addition, he wouldn’t deny that the prospect of her many connections outside of Tonopah didn’t appeal in one way or another. The Sons of Silence had charters spread out across the United States and abroad– naturally, he was thinking of how they might be able to capitalize on this. 

But first things first–  “Yeah– plenty, actually,” he responded to her question of whether or not there was anything else. Of course there was. Inflating his ego was a nice touch, but Cole needed hard details if he was going to be swayed one way or another. “First off, what do you get out of it?” He wondered aloud, figuring that was the best place to start. No good deed went unpunished, he knew that– so what would this cost him, assuming it worked out? “Think that’s the glarin’ question here, ain’t it?” He continued, shrugging a shoulder as he tipped his head to the side, studying her, “It’s a solid, so ya say…but how?” Cole thought it was a fair question, solely because he’d never bring anything to the table that didn’t benefit every reaper sitting beside him. That wasn’t the way this worked. “‘Cause I love my guys– ain’t ‘bout to bring some shit to the table that could hurt them. But ya knew that, right?” He continued, lifting a brow in tandem with the way he readjusted his grip on his Beretta, lowering it then and shrugging, “So let’s talk– criminal to criminal, no bullshit.”

Kathryn's eyes found his once again, and this time, they held a raw honesty that hadn't been present before. She knew he had no reason to believe here and yet, here she sat holding his gaze with the same fierce intent that he had.

''I play games to suss people out,'' She laughed under her breath, arching a brow. ''I have just as much to lose if this went wrong, so don't mind me if I'm watching my own back in the process.'' There was one thing that Kathryn was not, and that was easily pushed around. Fender used her sweetness for jobs, and while she was a genuinely nice person, she was also a wolf in sheep clothing. Pushed enough, she'd bare her teeth and snap. ''I've been in this game for years, and I know what makes money and -- '' She didn't have much else? If Fender did leave again, what then? What would she have besides a bookstore in a town in the buck fuck middle of nowhere. ''I'm looking for people I can make lasting connections with in this town. And you seem like someone I might end up trusting.''

The act was stripped away, peeled back to reveal a woman who was more than just a shadowy figure like she so often allowed herself. "I speak six languages in total, I've worked jobs more high end than you can ever imagine and for the foreseeable future I am stuck in this town. I'm someone who needs something to do, something more than just selling books, Cole. ''

''I looked into this whole town, followed even the smallest of leads. I listened when I needed to listen and it was a lot of intuition. Kinda' need it for my profession" she began, her voice tinged resignation. Her fingers reached up, brushing aside a strand of blonde hair that had fallen across her face, revealing the stark contrast of her pale skin. No one liked having a gun pointed at them. ''Great, my brains might make an interesting addition to the walls,'' Her snide comment falling from her lips, while trying her best not to roll her eyes.

"So, if you're asking why, it's because I see something in you, Cole. Something that tells me you're not just another player in the game. You're the kind of man who can lead, who can make the choices that others can't, or won't. And you know when to be smart" She used her eyes to gesture down to the books.

''This bookstore is a front, half of the books I've stole over the years and other's were illegally imported. Most are unregistered but all have bar codes. Untraceable if they ever get picked up, so they can't be traced back here. Hollowed out, it makes a great cover for any kind of transport. Whatever it is.'' She slowly reached and tapped the top of the books. ''It's a solid, and if we work well together, I have many connections with players outside of this place.''

She paused, raising both her hands. ''Anything else?''

[colemonroe]

“Well, ya know there’s a reason for that,” he murmured, in response to the grass being greener on the other side, “It’s greener ‘cause it’s fertilized with bullshit,” Cole supplied, shrugging a shoulder ever so nonchalantly. It was part of why he’d never bought into the glitz and the glam– that life had never appealed to him, mostly because he’d seen the sort of corruption it took to cultivate it. Simplicity hadn’t ever appealed to him either– he needed a spark, something that lit a fire in his blood and made him live life on a dare. The Sons of Silence was a pretty good place to start.

For as much as Cole preferred to cut straight to the chase, there was a part of him that’d never deny the way making Kathryn wait amused him. It seemed like payback for all the back and forth she’d put him through in recent weeks. Plus, he knew that what lay on the other end of his games was the answer that she ultimately wanted, so he’d have his fun– at least for a little while. Truthfully though, Cole was the most impatient soul he’d ever known, and so he knew he wouldn’t be able to keep up his antics for very long. 

Silence betrayed people more often than words ever did– it was something Cole had learned a long time ago back in Knoxville. Confined to silence himself with his jaw wired shut from his latest run-in with one of his mother’s drug dealers, Cole had learned how to observe, how to pick up on all those subtle tells people tended to leave behind like ashes in their wake. He noticed everything now from Kathryn’s hesitation to the small hitches in her expression– all of it made her reaction to the news that the vote had passed that much sweeter. “Passed,” he parroted back, his crooked grin growing wider as they clinked their champagne flutes together.  “Joke’s on you, you’re buyin’,” he teased, raising his glass to his lips. Although champagne wasn’t his favorite, Cole had to admit that in that moment, it tasted better than it ever had, and that was solely because he knew they were on the pathway to something good, and something sustainable– a contingency plan for the club, so to speak. Needless to say, he’d been searching for one of those for a while. “Congrats,” he chuckled, downing the last bit of champagne in his glass before setting it aside. “Ya should come around the clubhouse soon, meet everyone,” he suggested, shrugging a shoulder. Ordinarily, he might have suggested more neutral ground, but he knew Kathryn was seeking out more than a business plan– she’d said it herself that she hoped they’d be friends one day, and so inviting her to an SOS rager? Seemed like a damn good place to start.

"The other half makes you think about the term. The grass is always greener on the other side." Kathryn had thought about that very topic way too many times to count. She'd sifted through it and tried to hold on to parts of who she was before she was this. "I just — a life of normality. I'd find it boring," she admitted, slender shoulders lifting into a light shrug.

'Patience, darlin'

There were times in which she loved playing their games of chess and cards, always waiting to see who'll be the first to show their hand. Last time, it'd been her. Folding as she went for the kill with her business proposition. Just like then, and now, he had all the balls in his court and she was simply waiting for him. At least time there wasn't a goddamn gun. "Margret thatcher once said, I am extraordinarily patient, provided I get my own way in the end.”

And then those words left his mouth; Did everything I could.

Kathryn knew what that meant and hesitated, eyes darting between Cole's face and the sparkle of her icy gown that twinkled under the light, her expression momentarily betraying a flicker of something unreadable that sat just beneath the surface and simmered before she composed herself. Licking at her lips, she did her best to shift her lips into one of a smile. She knew this was a potential and crucial step if it passed. She had dared not hope too much until she heard it from his lips. Her guarded demeanor softened imperceptibly, a subtle thawing of the ice that encased her professional facade. When she'd brought the idea to him, it'd almost resorted to her brains as a new addition to her office.

And then he said it. Passed. It'd...passed?!

"Passed?" she echoed, a note of genuine surprise threading through her controlled voice. She knew there'd been a good chance, but she hadn't been certain and Kathryn Haringer did not like uncertainty. So now that she stood there with shock etched onto her features, it quickly broke into a grin.. Kathryn's fingers curled around the stem of her champagne flute once more, her grip steadying as she lifted it to meet his in a silent toast. A small, genuine smile tugged at the corner of her lips, a rare display of her unguarded nature. "Well, I'll be damned," she murmured, allowing a rare warmth to seep into her tone. Accomplishment. When was the last time she'd done something of this magnitude alone? And then came the smirk as she brought the glass to her lips. "Guess you'll have to take me out for the dinner, after all."

Setting her glass down once again, she straightened her posture. Their friendship was once that was cultivated out of riddles and business propositions. But one that she hoped could develop into a real working friendship. "I suppose congratulations are in order then," she remarked, her gaze locking onto his. "Words will set you free, or in our case, make us very fucking rich."