The night passed without any more incidents. Kyle had checked on Aiysha one more time before she left, making sure she was sober enough to walk the short distance to her own apartment, making sure she understood that what happened was an accident and nothing more. She'd nodded, embarrassed but grateful, and slipped out into the hallway while the building was still quiet.
Kyle fell into bed exhausted, his mind churning through everything that had happened over the past few days. Getting shot, drugged, nearly executed, somehow turning it all around to become Marcello's equal, the thing with Isabeau, now this mess with Aiysha. It was too much, too fast, too chaotic.
But as he lay there staring at the ceiling, a strange thought crept in.
Everything just worked out.
