All My Sins

A deal

*Decided to see another chapter through and see what I could make of the direction this goes in. This is unedited, but there's always time to do that later. The show must go on. Some details might change or be inconsistent as I'm trying to fix the things that make it difficult for me to write sometimes. I love all my readers. Thanks for being here.*

Where Paul Rosenberg was concerned, Denaun Porter was a mere chess-piece to his game. Rosenberg had no problem playing dirty, but it was clear to him that Porter's methods were driven by fierce jealousy. An envy that would only serve to destroy the plan itself.

Paul was not so different in this way. He wanted to escape his own life as well, without much honest talent or skill to allow him to. After the dinner meeting with his old partners, at which Porter had made a fool on both their behalf, he had yet to hear anything back. He realized that he would need a different approach to it entirely.

He would need to discover Marshall on his own, and craft his own introduction. The matter of Marshall's taboo secret would have to be dealt with further down the road. After all, Paul began to suspect that Porter had ulterior motive in that too.

-

Marshall woke the next morning to a sweet smell, like sugar and flour. He did not feel much like opening his eyes, but his nerves were already so tense.

He realized he was still in the Doc's house. Having camped on their sofa overnight, he felt ashamed. So many nights he'd spent looking for places to crash, someone's couch to sleep. When he first moved into his apartment, he was sure those days had been over for him. He'd never wanted to come back to this.

Sober in the early morning light, the results of all his previous actions made his stomach roll.

This is fuckin' crazy.

It was. Since he'd met Maureen and chanced pursuing some sort of a relationship with her, he'd been able to make sense of his own craze.
But Maureen's old files, her mother, the secrets... That was crazy all on its own.
He felt so far adrift, he could not see land anymore. Before anything, he knew that he needed to get out of that house.

"Good morning, Marshall. Breakfast will be ready in just a few minutes."

Before officially greeting her, he buttoned his shirt. Feeling as though he were being absorbed by his sober reality, he could only focus on escaping it. For a second the feeling dawned on him, that he missed his shitty apartment. He wished he'd gone home and waited to give Maureen the gift. Wished that he had not following the string of temptation.
Logical thought became blurred again when he heard another rhythm of footsteps, and there was Maureen.

He liked the way she looked after waking up. Softened, timid. Her presence gave him the motivation to find his out. Perhaps he was just as addicted to missing her as he was to the idea of her, being around her.
They held a foreign gaze with each, but like most moments their eyes would meet, it was short-lived. Yet between each other, it felt as though some sad words were exchanged within it.

"I appreciate everything, Jillian and Maureen. But I really do gotta get goin'."

"You can't go without break-"

"Mom, he's been here all night."

Batter sizzled against the skillet and kept from the air the uncomfortable silence that followed.

"Thank you, ladies." Marshall patted his pockets to check for his belongings and headed toward the front door.

"Anytime, Marshall Mathers." Jillian smiled and stroked her collarbone.