A Sight At The Towers
Turnberry Towers, Las Vegas
Miles stepped through the sliding doors of the Turnberry Towers lobby, the familiar scent of polished marble and subtle air fresheners greeting him. His gym bag was slung over his shoulder, a parcel from the post office tucked under his arm. Just as he was adjusting his grip, a familiar voice called out.
"Look what the cat dragged in."
Miles turned his head and grinned at Kristjan Baltasarsson, his best friend—better known to most as Fenris. K leaned casually against the wall, arms crossed, a smirk playing on his lips.
"Back from a workout and a mail run? Productive day, I see."
Miles chuckled, shifting his bag. "You know me, always on the move. What about you?"
Kristjan pushed off the wall, nodding toward the elevators. "Same old. About to head to Go myself, but got a later start so I didn’t run into that idiot Logan. I know Gabriel frowns upon seriously maiming the students, but I may kill that poor bastard if you don’t shut him up.”
“I seem to think there is a line forming for a chance at not just him but his girlfriend as well. Ally was ready to eat glass after what happened.” Miles sighed, “But don’t worry, mate. I’ll leave a little bit for ya if LJ doesn’t beat you to the punch.”
“You think your little brother isn’t done with him yet?” K asked with a raise of the eyebrow.
That caused Miles to smile and laugh, “Oh I know he’s not. But for now, Logan is gonna have his hands full with me and I’ll make sure he doesn’t get into that damn Elimination Chamber.”
“Now that’s what I’m talkin’ about.” K smirks before he nods back, “By the way, get this—someone’s finally moving into the condo above you and Carter."
Miles blinked. That particular condo had been vacant for months, ever since its former occupant—a woman whose obsessive hatred had led to Carter being attacked—was sentenced to prison. Her entire family had been a nightmare, and Miles had hoped never to deal with them again.
"Really? Who’s the unlucky soul moving in?" he asked, half-joking.
Kristjan's smirk widened. "A woman. Bubbly. Think that busty blonde from that Legally Blonde movie that Bella made us sit through, but not as ditzy. And definitely more flirtatious."
Miles raised an eyebrow. "Great. That’s exactly what we all need. I will say that will be better than constantly being threatened or harassed."
Kristjan chuckled. "Have you met her yet?"
"I have not had that privilege...yet."
Just as the words left his mouth, the automatic doors slid open again, and a woman strutted in, leading a team of movers through the lobby. Instead of using the basement entrance like most residents did, she directed the men through the main hall as if she owned the place. There was a confidence in the way she carried herself—effortless, charming, and completely unbothered by the attention she was drawing.
Kristjan nudged Miles, amused. "And there she is. Quite the entrance, huh?"
Miles stifled a laugh, watching the spectacle unfold. The woman, blonde and stylish, radiated an almost theatrical energy as she gave the movers directions with exaggerated gestures. Other residents in the lobby stole curious glances, clearly entertained by the show.
"Looks like she’s going to be... interesting," Miles muttered.
Kristjan smirked. "No doubt. I will say that that’s not why I was glad to run into you. I wanted to talk to you."
Miles turned back to him, curiosity piqued. "Oh?"
Kristjan folded his arms again. "The kid. Karen’s oldest. Keith."
Miles' expression tightened. He hadn't expected this. "What about him?"
"You saw him, didn’t you? A few weeks ago, when you and Carter were out?"
Miles exhaled. "Yeah. Just for a moment, he attempted to snatch my wallet, I caught up to him. Since then, I’ve tried finding him, but no luck."
Kristjan gave him a pointed look. "Maybe he doesn’t want to be found. Ever think of that?"
Miles rubbed the back of his neck. "Yeah. But it doesn’t sit right with me."
Kristjan sighed, his expression softening. "Look, I get it. But you, of all people, should know how this works. Remember when you were on the streets? You didn’t want people tracking you down, either. You told me yourself, if it wasn’t for your sister constantly making sure you didn’t get into trouble that you probably would have remained an-"
“Insufferable tosspot? Yeah...I’m aware.” Miles frowned. He didn’t like being reminded of that part of his past, but Kristjan wasn’t wrong. Memories stirred—nights spent evading anyone who might try to reel him in, the paranoia of being seen by the wrong person, the raw independence that came with survival. Keith might be thinking the same way.
"So what do you suggest?"
Kristjan shrugged. "Maybe if you want to find out what’s going on, you need to remember who you used to be."
Miles let that sink in, his thoughts turning to the past he’d left behind. He had worked so hard to build something new, something stable. But if Keith really was in trouble, then maybe Kristjan was right. Maybe he needed to stop looking from the outside in and start thinking like the kid he used to be.
A sudden loud noise snapped them both out of the moment when the new neighbor’s voice lifted over the entire lobby, “BE CAREFUL!!! That is a priceless heirloom that I bought 3 years ago from World’s Market!”
The two men look at one another for a moment and mouth the words “World Market” before they continue to watch the whole scene unfold in front of them.
“As much as I wanna go to the gym...”
“It’s like a traffic accident you just can’t help but watch.”
Love is Not A Trap
Valentine’s Day Night
Miles stood in the middle of their condo, adjusting the last of the decorations. The entire space had been transformed—candles flickered across the tables, rose petals were scattered strategically, and soft music played in the background and of course in the middle of the table for Carter was his absolute favorite flowers, something that Miles made sure he would get for him over the last 3 Valentine Days. He tugged at the cuffs of his tailored suit jacket, ensuring everything was perfect.
Carter had insisted he was fine staying in with pizza and a movie. But Miles knew better. After losing the SCW Internet Championship, Carter deserved something special, and it was their first Valentine’s Day as a married couple. That had to count for something.
As he stepped back to admire his handiwork, the front door opened. Miles turned just in time to see Carter walk in, arms full—with pizza boxes and, to Miles' amusement, a few decorations of his own. Carter stopped short, his mouth parting slightly as he took in the scene.
"You’ve got to be kidding me," Carter muttered, shaking his head in disbelief. "I was gonna do this!"
Miles grinned. "Too slow, babe. Though it’s not nearly as full on out as our first Valentine’s Day where I was running all over town at the literal 11th hour because the weather screwed up every inch of my plans, I figured we would go out but I see you were actually serious about staying in for the movie and pizza."
Carter let out a laugh, setting the pizza down on the counter and looking over at the flowers. He walked over and stared in amazement that this man to this day never forgot how much he loved them, "You never do anything halfway, do you?"
Miles walked over, sliding his arms around Carter’s waist and placed a simple kiss on the side of his husband’s head. "Not when it comes to you."
Carter turned around and looked up at him, the initial frustration melting into something softer. "You’re ridiculous."
"You deserve it and you love it."
Carter sighed dramatically. "Unfortunately."
Miles leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to Carter’s lips. "Happy Valentine’s Day, Mr. Kasey-McKinney."
Carter smiled against his lips. "Happy Valentine’s Day, Mr. McKinney-Kasey."
Oh we’re gonna be seeing Red on Sunday for sure
Later that night, long after dinner, long after everyone else had settled in, Miles stood alone on the balcony, a glass of red wine in hand that he hadn’t even bothered to sip. The Las Vegas skyline stretched before him, the neon glow flickering like a heartbeat in the distance.
But he wasn’t seeing the city.
He was seeing him.
Logan Hunter.
The name alone made Miles' blood boil, his grip tightening around the glass until he was seconds away from shattering it in his hand. His jaw clenched, the muscles in his neck tight as he exhaled sharply through his nose.
"You son of a bitch," he muttered under his breath, voice laced with pure, undiluted venom. "You really thought you could do that to my brother and walk away like nothing happened, didn’t you? You really thought that this—all of this—was just business as usual. Another day, another body left in your wake."
He let out a slow, humorless chuckle, but there was no amusement in it—just pure, simmering rage waiting to erupt.
"You’re a piece of shit, Logan. You always have been. A leech. A parasite feeding off the pain of others because deep down, you know you can’t stand on your own. You can’t win a fight straight up, so you blindside people. You take cheap shots. You damn near end careers because that’s the only way you can make a name for yourself. But let me ask you something, Logan—when has that ever worked out for guys like you? Huh? When has it ever ended well for the little coward who thinks they’re untouchable?"
Miles scoffed, shaking his head. His fingers drummed against the railing, the only thing keeping him from putting his fist through the wall.
"You really thought you could get away with it, huh? That no one was gonna step up and put you in your place? That no one was gonna stop you?" His voice dropped lower, the threat in his tone unmistakable. "You got one thing right—nobody did. Nobody had the balls to check you. Not management. Not the locker room. Not anyone. They all let you get away with it. They all let you run around like a rabid dog while my brother was left lying in a hospital bed, stitched up and bloodied, all because you don’t know when to stop."
His nostrils flared as his grip tightened on the railing, his body vibrating with anger. "But here’s the thing, Logan—you fucked up. Because you may have gotten away with it before, but I’m here now. And if you think for one second that I’m gonna let this slide, that I’m gonna sit back and watch you do to someone else what you did to LJ? Then you’re even dumber than you look."
He turned, eyes burning with fury as he pointed toward the horizon, as if Logan were standing right in front of him.
"You’re done, Logan. Done. No more sneak attacks. No more unchecked rampages. No more acting like you’re some unstoppable force when all you are is a scared little boy hiding behind cheap shots and steel chairs. You want violence? I am violence. You want to hurt people? Then try that shit with me. I dare you. No warnings. No mercy. No way out. You wanted to be a monster? Then let me introduce you to the thing that monsters fear."
He finally took a deep breath, running a hand through his hair, his pulse still thundering in his ears.
"Someone should’ve put you down a long time ago. Looks like it’s up to me."
He knocked back the entire glass of wine, slamming it onto the railing with a clink.
Sunday couldn’t come soon enough.
