^^Above, chapter title credit: Song by Queen.^^

{Raina}

Hugo and I are alike, in a way. I can see that already. Neither of us are afraid of confrontation, nor are we willing to go down without a fight. I'm not afraid of Ridley – although it seems that every day, he's giving us more reasons to be – and Hugo isn't either. No journalist who wants to stay on Ridley's good side would have ever dreamed of printing that article.

Roberto finally calls back a half-hour later than he'd thought, after Hugo got home from work and gave him an earful about how inconvenient this is. He has good news: the both of them are in the car, packed, and ready to go. That gives me time to take a shower, change my clothes, and then give both our kids a bath as well. Cam doesn't really like dirt, but Ettie seems to get it on her wherever she goes. Geoff says that figures, because she's as fearless as me.

Geoff comes into the kitchen right as I've finished feeding Cam his mush, and just as I stand up, he spits the last mouthful out.

"They're here," he says before I get a chance to ask.

"Give me a second," I say, kneeling down again to wipe the mess from Cam's chin. He bats at my hand, but I manage to get him relatively clean. Then I lift him out of his high chair and set him on my hip, his little fists drumming into my shoulder.

Roberto's bringing their bags inside when we meet them in the entryway. Hugo's disheveled and tousled, his jaw lightly stubbled and eyes bloodshot. Aisha follows closely behind him, her normally bright blue eyes flat and glazed and her shoulders hunched in.

"Hey, Raina," Hugo says, giving me a gentle side-hug. "How're the injuries?"

"Cast's coming off next week," I answer, noticing how thin he feels under his clothes. "I should be asking about you, though."

"Tired." He runs his hand over his face.

"Hug-go," Cam says, stretching his arms out towards him. "Hug-go."

"I think he wants to see you." I adjust Cam and maneuver him over to Hugo, who dandles him on his hip.

I don't get to talk to Aisha until we migrate into the dining room, where Mila's setting out the take-out I'd ordered. I know Aisha's vegan, but beyond that I was unsure of what to get. But since no one felt like cooking and it was getting late already, this seemed like the best decision.

"Holding up okay?" I ask her as I jump in to help Mila unload the bags of food. She seems lost, staring the thousand-yard stare that I'm plenty familiar with. Mine tended to emerge when I was yanked back to those years enduring Dad. I had to be shaken out of it by whoever was nearest most times.

"I do not understand Hugo," she says, her voice hollow. "He seems to have lost all sense of inhibition."

"At least he's doing something," I say, trying to put a positive spin on it. "Most journalists wouldn't dare to touch Ridley's campaign."

"There's a reason for that," she says curtly, and then shuts down.

The four of us are silent and tense over dinner. Cam and Ettie are whisked off to bed by Roberto and Mila, who seem to know when to withdraw. Geoff keeps giving me anxious looks, like he hopes I'll know what to do. I don't, especially not when it's Ridley. And especially not when it appears he's organizing hits on his opponents like a Mob boss.

Hugo goes to bed early, saying it's been a long stressful day and he's exhausted. I don't blame him. My nerves are ragged from worrying that Ridley got to them first. But as I'm about to go up to bed, I see a light on in the living room. Aisha's sitting on the couch, in the same spot I'd occupied for days after El died.

"Aisha?" I look in, making her head jerk up. Her long dark hair is a mess, and even now her lip is raw from gnawing at it. "You okay?"

"How do you stand it?" she asks, a rough edge to her voice. "This trouble with Ridley Green?"

"I don't know, honestly." I wish I did, whenever I look at the cast on my arm or the bruises on my face, now light enough to passably cover with makeup.

"Your husband seems to know what he is doing," she says, digging her fingers into the pillow she's got hugged to her chest.

"He only comes across like that," I say through a sigh. "Geoff's a super. They seem to be confident about everything, even if they don't have a clue what's going on."

"I only wish I had that," she says, slumping back into her pillows. "Hugo does not seem to be afraid of anything, but I have not slept well for the past week."

I sit down next to her, leaving a distance between us. She'd never struck me as the touchy-feely type, especially considering the difference in our personalities. "He only wants you to be safe. You and the baby."

She shoots me a glare. "I never said anything about a baby."

"Hugo told us," I admit, hoping I'll get a chance to apologize for throwing him under the bus later. "I'm happy for you two, really. You'll make great parents."

She doesn't take the compliment. "I was not planning on becoming a parent so soon."

"Nobody does." I shrug one shoulder and look down at my hands. "I got pregnant when I was nineteen. I didn't even get to finish school."

Aisha shakes her head. "I cannot bring a child into this world. Our world, where everything is so uncertain."

"They'll find their way," I say, wishing I sounded more confident. "With or without our help. We just have to protect them until they do."

She sets the pillow aside as she stands, her startling blue eyes on me the whole time. "You believe that?"

"I have two kids. I don't really have a choice." I stand up too, taking her hand without asking and give it a squeeze. I can feel it shaking. "When you look into your baby's eyes for the first time, you'll understand. Trust me."

She hesitates, and for a second, I think she's going to reply. But instead she tightens her mouth, looks away, and tugs her hand out of mine. I watch her leave, and only sink down into her spot when I hear her feet on the stairs. I wish I knew how to get through to her. It might be our only chance at survival.

≈

"So you couldn't sleep either?" Geoff asks when I finally slip into our room. The lamp on his side of the bed is on, and he's propped up by pillows. I see with a blush that he's not wearing a shirt. He does it every night, practically, but gets the same reaction out of me every time.

"It's Aisha," I say as I toe off my shoes and climb in next to him. "And Hugo too, actually. The both of them...they don't seem to want any help."

"Hugo thinks he's a super," Geoff says. "Nothing can hurt him, you know?"

"He's gambling with his life." I slump back against the headboard, dropping my head against it. "I can tell Aisha doesn't like it either. Why doesn't she say anything?"

"Like you said, neither of them want help. They're too similar. They've both got pride they don't want to lose by admitting there's a problem." Geoff sighs deeply, rubbing one side of his face. "It's why we have to intervene."

"Maybe we switch?" I suggest. "I'll take Hugo if you'll try and persuade Aisha?"

"Worth a shot," he says, leaning against me to kiss my cheek, the one with the healing cut on it. "But no matter how much he likes you, I don't think he's going to listen."

Still, the next morning, I give it a shot. I wait until Hugo and I are the last two at the breakfast table before saying anything, moving to the chair Geoff occupied across from him.

"Hugo," I say, but when he doesn't respond, I say it again, more forcefully. "Hugo."

His eyes flick up to me, blinking slowly. "Hey, Raina."

"I know you hate hearing this question, but what exactly did you plan to do with that interview you published about Ridley?"

Hugo shakes his head and looks away. "Not you too—"

"Hugo, listen to me. I know you had noble intentions. And I know you're not afraid of a fight. Neither am I. But maybe this is one you don't want to pick." I lay my hand, the one with the cast, on the tabletop for emphasis. "Maybe...just this once...you'll stay out of this one."

"Raina—" he protests.

"Look at me, Hugo. Look at Geoff." I raise the same hand in front of my face. "We came out of the two most recent encounters with bruises and broken bones. Pascal might be stupid, but he's strong and capable of causing a lot of damage. Tell me you understand that, at least."

Reluctantly, he nods, but says nothing.

"Ridley won't come after you himself, trust me. He'll send Pascal or that blob monster or anyone else he has doing his dirty work. And it won't be clean either. You can't put yourself in that position, Hugo. It's too vulnerable. Especially when you've got a baby on the way."

"So what would you have me do?" he asks after a heavy silence.

"Stay out of the spotlight for a little while. Don't make waves. Does that sound easy enough?"

"And I still get to write my articles," he says petulantly.

"Okay, fine. Just...stay away from politics for a while."

"Fine," he says, but doesn't look at me. He can act like a child all he wants, but at least I've gotten through to him. All I can do now is hope it sticks.

≈

On the second night, we see Ridley on the news, appearing at a state dinner. On his arm is a slim blonde woman none of us have seen before, but she looks ordinary enough to pass further scrutiny.

"Who is that?" Geoff sits forward and squints at the television screen.

"Samantha Troutman," Hugo answers instantly. "Gary Troutman's niece."

"He owns that real estate company, doesn't he?" Geoff's brow furrows.

"Troutman Real Property? Yeah."

"How long has she been in the picture?" I ask, following Geoff's lead and giving her a closer look. Pretty, I guess, but in a generic, skinny-blonde kind of way. Unremarkable, in my opinion.

"Couple months, I think. Ridley wants to be societally respected like his opponent, so why not pull this move?" Hugo's words have a bitter undertone.

"Causing a bit of a stir, I see," I point out, noticing how the cameras flash as they climb the stairs to the governor's mansion, her hand in his elbow. Her long silvery dress billows around her, revealing heels that are at least eight inches tall.

"Oh, yeah." Hugo shrugs, rubbing at his unshaven cheek. "Troutman wouldn't let little Sammy date just anyone. But Ridley's smooth. He knows how to turn on the charm when it suits him."

"Tell me about it," I mutter under my breath. Only Geoff hears me, reaching over and giving my hand a squeeze.

"I assume we'll be meeting her election night?" Geoff asks, one of his eyes twitching. So far that's his only sign of agitation.

"If you're lucky," Hugo says. "Ridley'll probably keep her shut away in a hotel room."

Aisha looks nauseated. "I would rather you phrase that differently."

"Putting it any other way makes Ridley seem milder than he is." Hugo's defensive now, pale eyes narrowed. "Trust me, and these two know, he's anything but."

Aisha only makes a harrumphing noise and says nothing.

≈

When we go up late that night, Geoff catches me in the dark hallway. He says my name, making me turn around, and then he grabs my face and kisses me roughly.

"Geoff." I pull back, holding him an arm's length away. "What's gotten into you?"

"Can I not kiss my wife now?" His muscles bunch under my hand, like he's ready to pounce on me.

"No, I mean..." I blush, grateful that he can't see it. "Yes, you can kiss me. But...since we have guests and everything..."

"Since when have you cared about disturbing our guests?" He pulls me against him, and immediately I feel him pressing into my lower abdomen.

"Since now." Normally I would have felt completely in the mood, but every new development with Ridley seems to put a damper on it. Unfortunately, it has the opposite effect on Geoff. He seems to always want to go harder, faster, and longer.

"Raina—" He bends down and nuzzles my neck.

"Stop, Geoff, seriously." I dig my fingers into his hair, but just to pull his head back so I can look into his face. In the dim light of the hallway, I can see his eyes are fever-bright. He has it bad tonight.

"Come on, Raina, again?" He runs his hands down, gripping the backs of my thighs. "It'll be quick this time."

"You don't get it, do you?" I push his hands off me and back away from him. "I want you, yes. But not like this. Not when you're all worked up, about Ridley and everything else. And I don't want it when it's quick, like you said. I'm not some random girl you'll never see again, I'm your wife. I love and respect you, and the least you can do is return the favor."

Surprisingly, he backs down to the point where he just looks tired. "Look, Raina, I don't mean to be gruff, I just...I'm just irritated. And stressed. And I wish I could punch Ridley in the face."

"Believe me, I get it." I rake my hand through my hair, and I notice Geoff's eyes follow it. "Nothing would give me greater pleasure."

"Will you at least let me kiss you?" he asks after a short tense silence. "I won't push you into anything, I swear. I just want to forget about this for a while."

I sigh, beckoning him forward. "You could have just asked, you know."

"Yes," he says into the small space between our lips, and after that there's no room for talking at all.

≈

When I wake up the next morning, I smell breakfast cooking. For a second, I float between fully asleep and fully awake, remembering what Geoff had done last night. It's the reason why both our shirts and my bra are on the floor next to the bed. But he hadn't pushed me any further. He'd kept up his end after all.

I get out of bed, pull my shirt on, and go to check on our kids. Halfway to their room I hear Ettie's voice babbling from downstairs, and Hugo answering. So even she's beaten me out of bed today.

I follow the smell of breakfast all the way into the kitchen. Aisha sits on one of the bar stools, and Geoff's sitting with Cam on another, fully dressed. I feel my ears burn. Hopefully no one notices I'm not.

"Morning, sleepyhead," Geoff says when he sees me. "Got your beauty rest?"

"Yes," I say. No thanks to you, I add mentally.

Mila turns from the stove to give me a wink as I sit down between Geoff and Aisha. She knows exactly what happened last night.

"Mama." Cam reaches for me with his chubby arms, and Geoff lifts him under the arms and sets him on my knee. I pull him close so he can lean against me.

"Motherhood looks well on you," Aisha says as Mila sets a plate of eggs, toast, and hash browns down in front of her.

"Thank you," I say, surprised. She's never willingly paid me a compliment like that before.

"Perhaps some day, our children will be close."

"That'd be nice."

We eat in relative silence, Cam pulling at my clothes and demanding his foo-foo. Fortunately, Mila's thought of everything – as I finish, she sets down his bowl of mashed peas. He eats that relatively quickly, and then asks for more foo-foo. That's Geoff's cue, and he gets up for Cam's formula right away.

"Hungry little guy, isn't he?" he says as Cam sucks down the bottle in under a minute.

"Poor kid." I roll my eyes. "Can't seem to feed him enough."

When Aisha and Mila finally leave, Mila taking Cam off to his nap, I stop Geoff out in the hallway. He turns around at the door, brow furrowing and eyes softening.

"Geoff, I was just thinking...there's another thing about Pascal you should know. Just...going forward."

"Yeah. What is it?" He gives the knot in his necktie a tug.

"Well..." I try to choose my words carefully. "He was charged with rape a few years ago. It was while we were still in school. And he actually got the girl pregnant."

Geoff's eyebrows go up, although I have a feeling he's not shocked by the rape charge. "Who was the girl?"

I take a deep breath, and take a few seconds to gather myself. "You're not going to believe this, but...it was Felicia. And she's got a kid somewhere, probably Ettie's age. That's all I know."

"That's probably the best information yet," Geoff says, with a smirk.

"What?" I shake my head. "Why?"

He bends down and kisses my forehead. "Because it's leverage."