Chapter Text
"Are you coming in?" Pandora asks tersely, sidestepping to make room for Harmon but he's frozen in the door way, awestruck. "Harmon,"
"Bel---"
"I've no time for pleasantries Harmon. What have you to say?"
"I've…..wronged, you."
"That much is clear and has been for sometime Harmon, do you have more to add of consequence?"
This new information still dazes him. He can't quite bring himself to expose his own treachery to her and the newly revived investigation. It becomes clear to him in that moment that allowing Nevins to be hauled in will not do him favours. Nevin's will talk. No matter what ties he had previously to Frank Irving, the FBI will see him in a cell, and Pandora too, pregnant and all if she is unable to convince them entirely that she had no idea whatsoever was going on. He has gone too far already, providing that sample for Irving, but if he can destroy anything left that might hint at that connection, there may be a chance to keep himself, and the mother of child, out of harms way.
"Harmon!"
"I must go." he states, eyes flashing, darting from side to side. "I must go, Pandora, but I will return." he turns on his heel and begins to depart. Pandora huffs in exasperation before he turns around. "But Beloved, I must tell you, I am happy. I love you"
She watches him leave, stony faced, leans on the door after she slams it shut and thumbs away a tear on her cheek. "I love you, Harmon Odesu." and She wishes it wasn't true.
Nevins might think he's smart than Harmon but not by much. The HO has had people inside the house before, running recon for him. It's what someone like him does, keeps spies, keeps information, trades it, screws, profits, he's a crook and dealer and takes lives if need be. He has all intent of burning everything incriminating left in this house, and with any luck, Nevins too--didn't Frank tell him to toss all his incriminating shit?---there's a movement in one of the rooms.
Cold bewilderment leaves Abbie standing in Crane's shirt, shocked, numb in his living room before she pulls herself together and begins hauling on her clothes.
It's not ending like this. No way in hell.
Separate rooms was quickly decided after Crane launched himself at Abraham in an angry assault.
"Put the files down." Harmon intones. In one hand a gun, in the other a lighter. The air has changed and now she understands why, the smell of gasoline.
"Who are you."
"You'll pay with your life for the answer," he warns.
Lori trembles with the papers in hand. Here are all of the answers she's wanted, needed, deserves, after having the love of her life wrenched away from her. In this file is her last, her only chance at justice for Ezra. Her hope. In these files is the destruction of a man she once called friend---whose love for her, stole from her, in equal measure.
But is it worth her own life in exchange?
"I will not ask again---"
"You want me HO not her." Nevins appears over Harmon's shoulder, his arms extended out to his sides invitingly. "Settle with me."
"Those files---"
"Hold incriminating evidence on the manufacturing of a drug. Two, to be precise, that you helped me with. One that'll make us a mint if we got it on market. The other that'll stop all opponents in their tracks. Guarantees quiet work. Built off a fluke, really." his gaze finally drifts past the imposing gun wielding man and through to Lori. "I hadn't meant to kill him, Lor. You have to believe that."
Her lips tremble. "You've named it after him. This deadly poison, is that supposed to be an honour" she screams. "In loving memory of one of your best friends---a lethal pill"
"There was money on that fight. If he lost I----"
"You what, Nevins."
Harmon growls"This is of no consequence to me. Give me the files or we all burn."
"You're so damned good at that it's a wonder you didn't torch the place already." Nevins snaps angrily. "It's rare you find folk with a gift for arson, but you have it HO, you got it----"
"Silence, Nevins."
"Oh ho. Don't want any more dirty laundry aired out?" He holds up a phone. "What makes you think I' haven't already called the feds."
Harmon whirls and points the barrel at Nevins, levelling it at his forehead. Nevins swallows. "Go ahead HO. Do it. It'll keep your nose clean right, no one will bother searching this place. Keep Pandora safe too, right?"
"Silence, Nevins." he grits out.
Paralyzed, folder still in hand Lori doesn't know what to do. There is only one doorway. No windows. She may very well witness a murder, have this evidence destroyed and on top of which die herself today.
"Do it, HO." he spits. "Shoot me. Do it!" he yells.
The gun clicks.
"There ya go. Hey Lor," he screws up his mouth. His eye go sad and tender, like the boy she knew in high school. Her dear friend. "Lorelei Mills" His voice is soft and sober. "I'm sorry, honestly. You just can't trust everyone. Ask Corbin."
That jolts her, she steps forward. "What do you mean---"
Harmon swings in her direction and Nevins springs into action, struggling for control of the gun.
"RUN!" he cries. "RUN LORI RUN.
"Heart hammering she darts across the room, diving out of the way of the two men struggling and careening from wall to wall. "RUN LORI. PLEASE" down the halls, down corridors, turning towards the entrance way she hears shots going off and then the whoosh crackle of wood going up in flames. When she looks over her shoulder, fire is licking down the hallway, chasing after her as she skips down the front steps, folder still in hand, tears in her eyes, smoke in her throat, gasping and tired and confused. She keeps running till she's at the base of the hill and looks back at the swiftly burning mansion, and her heart constricts.
He killed your husband. She reminds herself. He gave Ezra experimental drugs, let him die and didn't take any responsibility for it. He ruined your life.
But he saved you.
He saved your life.
Sirens blare in the distance, and she can't be found here, either way. Clutching the file to her chest, Lori makes a break for it.
Letting a man of her past go up in flames.