End Of The Line (SeaMexican)

Day 4016, 10:30 am

Nanners had never liked passing out. Before he became a criminal, eleven years ago, he used to have horrible fainting spells if he injured himself in the slightest. Waking up was painful, but at least he woke in a hospital or in bed. Then he was safe. Now, he awoke on a cement floor, head spinning and eyes burning in the bright fluorescent lights.

"Jesus, Adam, I thought you were smarter than this. I really did," the voice scoffed, seeming to come from above his head. Max hovered over him, arms crossed. The man sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Why would you bite the hand that feeds you?"

Adam groaned, forcing himself to a sit. He lay against the freezing cold wall, hugging himself. "Just... Just give me a second," he mumbled, trying to wake up and comprehend this all. "Please explain what happened. We were making out, and you were going to die. My plan was on perfect schedule."

"It was going perfect, and I congratulate you for that, Adam. You've been doing even better than we expected. But of all the people to chose to kill, you pick me." Max flopped lazily onto a metal folding chair set up in the corner, rubbing his eyes.

"Why is that such a big deal? It's always been my decision, that's part of the deal I have with my.. um, you know. Boss is the wrong word. My investor," Adam explained, a bit flustered and embarrassed that the man seemed to have the upper hand in their conversation.

"Are you so thick skulled that you aren't picking up on this? Did I choke you too hard and permanently cut off circulation to your brain?" Max scoffed, looking at him as though Adam had lost a few brain cells.

Nanners raised his eyebrows, a bit offended. "You're treating me like I'm a child, Gonzalez."

"Because you were behaving like one last night. You lost sight of your mission, of your target. You forgot that I was not some romantic toy. I didn't want to die, but it's my job to let you go through with your plans. Youcertainly weren't going to kill me. Not because I am your investor, but because you wanted to bang me on your hotel bed."

Adam went silent for the time being, pursing his lips. He had messed up. This is who he was, this killer. And now he would be killed for ignorance. Max was right, although he wouldn't admit it. At the time, Adam didn't want to murder Max, because maybe... He didn't know. Maybe he could live a normal life with a normal guy. What a crazy fantasy.

"Normally, the deal would be off. I would've strangled you, disposed of the body, and Seananners would just be another lost cause. But for some reason, they see potential in you."

"Normally? So, I'm not going to die?" Adam questioned, regaining his sense of mind enough that he could have a place in their little chat.

"God, just stop talking please," Max grumbled, rolling his eyes. Adam shut his mouth again. "Just get up. I'm not the best person to explain this to you. I have a hangover, if you can't tell. Someone gave me too many shots of cinnamon whiskey last night."

The man in charge let a bit of a smile play on his lips, but it slipped away at a moment's notice. "I'll have someone bring you to the showers and get you clean clothes."

Max stood and readjusted himself, rolling his neck to stretch it. The other couldn't help but look over how good he looked in tight shirt and jeans. A moment later, he mentally kicked himself for that thought. Definitely not the time.

"One more question, Gonzalez," Adam grinned, standing up with a bit of wobble in his knees.

"It's Mr. Gonzalez to you, Montoya. I'm your superior now."

"Whatever you say, Maxie. Can I still ask you something?"

Max chuckled softly and nodded, leaning against the closed door leading out of the prison-esque room. "Shoot."

"Did you enjoy what happened at the hotel?" Adam smirked, crossing his arms over his chest.

The faint pink of a blush spread over Max's face and neck, and he shook his head. His serious face returned as he opened the door. "Be ready for the worker I send down here. You'll be meeting Mr. Sark in half an hour."

The door slammed shut as Max left, and Nanners' arms fell back down to his sides. He couldn't even begin to process the swirl of information he had just obtained. Barely a minute later, a knock resounded on his door and a young looking girl entered.

"Montoya, let's go. You've got a busy day ahead of you," the girl with the dark red hair smiled, gesturing for him to exit the room.

"Alright, sure," Adam obliged, not really up to challenging the system here. Besides, she could be throttling him and dragging him there, so at least she was kind. "What exactly is this place?" He inquired as the walked down a blank concrete hall.

She laughed, looking around for a moment. "This particular place is the holding cell for prisoners. You'll be moved to an actual room when you're done talking to Mr. Sark. They thought it would be a good scare tactic to throw you in here. The building as a whole is an abandoned warehouse on Humphrey's Peak, the tallest mountain in San Fransisco."

They entered what looked like the locker rooms from his old middle school. Nothing was really hidden in there, but tucked away enough that people couldn't peep at you in the shower. He shuddered as bad memories floated back in.

"Go ahead and get cleaned up. There's lockers on the wall over there, one should have your name on it. It'll have all the toiletries and clothes you should need for now," the girl smiled, gesturing at the far wall.

"Thank you," he nodded. This place seemed too nice. Nanners was a prisoner a few minutes ago, and now he had been granted clean clothing and fancy shampoos. At this moment, though, he would just accept it. Once clean, he went over to the mirror to get a look at himself. He was curious if he looked beat up at all, considering the joy ride he had been on last night.

Surprisingly, though, the damage wasn't too bad. He did notice, however, the purple handprints wringing his neck, alongside a few matching violet hickies. No wonder Max had seemed so uncomfortable, the hickies were pretty visible reminders of what happened last night.

Adam exited the bathroom, feeling renewed and clean. The red haired girl waited patiently, and gave a kind smile when he reappeared. Feeling a bit happier, he reciprocated.

"I feel bad, I didn't ask your name earlier," the man chuckled sheepishly.

"Oh, it's no trouble. You were, probably still are, understandably confused. I'm Renee. Renee Gonzalez. I think you met my husband, Max, already," she grinned, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

Nanners held his smile, but felt a little frozen. "Oh yeah, I'm very familiar with your husband."

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~ S.J.