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By the time he gets to her building he’s out of breath. His lungs burn inside and his feet get heavier with each step. But he grits his teeth and pushes on. Inatçı , she called him. Stubborn . Well maybe today he will put it to good use.
Disappointment, anger, and worry swim inside his head. He doesn’t dwell on it and focuses his entire being into running faster. Swerving expertly on the narrow streets and people milling about.
He wants to yell. To curse. To cry out at the injustice of his own world coming apart at the seams while everyone else gets to lead a normal life.
He barely manages to shout a warning as he swerves to avoid colliding into a couple who just turned the corner.
He passes by them and he hears it - glass shattering and a scream.
A scream that’s all too familiar to him. Grief, ripping from the throat of the one person he promised he will not fail. The same person who doesn’t deserve to keep living through this hell.
What kind of man are you!?
He pulls out his gun and holds it tight.
He hasn’t run that fast in a very long time.
But for Ceylin ? - He runs even faster.
Heavy footsteps racing down metal stairs.
A gunshot?
A pulsating pain at the back of her head that’s making her dizzy.
Her heart - racing inside her chest. Her legs shake as she braces herself against the armchair and raises to her feet. Her vision swims before her and she blinks away tears as she tries to focus her vision.
Her memories come and go in fragments - the feelings of betrayal, the utter bloody heartbreak, the white hot rage, and that ever present maddening grief. A flash of dark curls and an unhinged expression - both familiar and utterly foreign all at once. Blackness. Pain. More throbbing.
And then there’s a pair of hands cradling her head, righting her up. Thumbs rubbing against her cheekbones. The warmth from his touch seeps right into her broken, tired, soul. She would love nothing more to let that warmth take her away, mend the tears inside her, help her feel like herself again. She would love nothing more than stop time and let him fuss over her. But right now, time is their greatest adversary.
It takes all her willpower to tell him he must follow. His fingers stop caressing her face and she can feel the conflict inside. A duty to himself and his duty to her. She takes away his conflict and tells him what to do.
For once, he doesn’t argue. For once, in the time they’ve known each other, he follows her instruction without a second thought.
She focuses and listens to him race down the fire escape. She listens to him shout and she slowly slumps back onto the cold wooden floor. She can sleep now, knowing he will do what she asked.
Ilgaz is a man of his word.
His breath stops the moment he sees her lying there on the ground, seemingly lifeless. His heartbeat hammers in his ears as he calls out to her again and again.
He is able to breathe in only once he sees her move. Sees her open those big green eyes of hers. Hears the melodic lilt of her voice, even though it sounds all disoriented and wrong.
He breathes in, only to run out of breath again, in a manner of seconds, as he races down the fire escape and after the piece of shit bastard that caused this entire mess.
He almost loses him twice, that heartless monster, swerved and took sharp turns. But Ilgaz refuses to give in. He refuses to let that man play his games and spin them around and win. He absolutely detest the idea that he might have to look her in they eye and tell her he failed to give her justice.
Luckily for him, as smart as that criminal thinks he is, he definitely is not observant. He doesn’t notice the construction warnings as he swerves into what turns out to be a dead end.
Ilgaz slows his run to a brisk walk and raises his gun.
A criminal, a traitor, and a coward. A truly despicable combination.
He walks with more purpose than he has since this whole nightmare started. A part of him rejoices at the terror in the other man’s eyes.
He stands toe to toe with him and he wants to yell, scream, and let out every bit of rage he feels inside. He doesn’t give him the satisfaction. Instead he raises the arm holding his gun and strikes the coward as hard as he can.
“It’s the end of the road for you.” he hisses as he watches Engin’s body slump lifelessly to the ground.
But he can’t take any chances. Not now when they finally have a much deserved win. Not now when the end is in sight at last. He cocks his gun and points it at Engin’s head with one hand and takes out his phone with the other.
“Eren, send me a police car. I have him,” he says as soon as the Detective picks up the phone. “I will watch him until they arrive, and I will travel with them to make sure he gets to the precinct.”
He doesn’t add “ in one piece ,”. Lying is not his style.
He waits a few minutes, with the murderer at his feet still out cold, and the cops arrive. They cuff and drag Engin to the back of the police car.
For all intents and purposes, Ilgaz has reached the end of the road. His purpose fulfilled. Cinar is exonerated. Ceylin hasn’t jeopardized her whole career, and Inci’s life has been avenged.
And yet his heart won’t quiet as he walks behind the officers. The worry nags at him and stings like sharp claws sinking into his heart. His heart, which has been left lying in an office on the second floor of an old building.
He calls the only person he trusts with it.
“ Eren , I need your help,”
She feels a warm hand on her back and another wrap against her arm. She doesn’t want to open her eyes. If she keeps them closed, then maybe this whole night would be a nightmare.
The warmth feels wrong, but she welcomes it. The soft voice whispering in her ear to get up is familiar. Comforting.
“ Hayde , Ceylin,” and she feels him pull her up.
She lets him drag her to his feet, not quite helping, but not opposing him either. Her eyes do not open. She is terrified to look.
“It’s over, you’re safe now,” he tells her and for a moment the warmth disappears.
Her shoulders tense. Her eyes unseeing. She doesn’t believe what he tells her is true. It’s the wrong hands. It’s the wrong voice.
“There,” he says and she feels heaviness around her shoulders as the familiar weight of her woolen blanket is wrapped around her like a protective cover.
She grabs the frayed edges and pulls it tighter around her, hoping to feel warm again.
She doesn’t.
She hears him talk on the phone next to her, but she can’t focus on his words, they are a jumble in her head. Mixing together with the events of the night.
A sob rises in her throat and she swallows it down.
She will not cry. She will not break.
Eren’s hand is back on her back shortly after, phone no doubt tucked away in his pocket. He leads her gently through her office and she lets him.
When they reach the stairs he tells her to wrap an arm around him. She is too tired to protest. To argue that it shouldn’t be his arms around her. That shouldn't be his voice in her ear. The ground beneath her disappears and they begin their descent down the stairs.
The sound of sirens and various loud voices greet her as they exit the building. She bites her lip and presses her head into his shoulder, she clenches the muscles around her eyes, willing them to shut even tighter.
Soon enough she is lowered onto a seat, a seatbelt clicks next to her and the door slams shut.
Eren takes the wheel and she feels grateful for the whoosh of hot air that comes her way as soon as he turns the key in the ignition. The engine rumbles and they pull away and drive.
It’s a good fifteen minutes before she feels brave enough to open her eyes.
He walks after the officers as they lead Engin through the precinct. He follows them as they take his fingerprints and book him in. He flashes his Prosecutor badge at anyone who so much as dares breathe in his direction. He turns into Engin’s shadow until that vile monster is locked securely into the precinct cell.
He tests the lock himself several times to make sure it holds. Then he turns around and barks at the officers to keep an eye on Engin at all times. He is the main suspect - nothing can go wrong.
He goes up to the main floor and starts pacing after that. He refuses any questions or offers for tea or coffee. His stomach clenches at the thought of doing anything for himself before he is assured she is well.
He paces along the room from one end to the other and glances at his watch every few seconds, as if willing time to go faster.
The anxiety returns with a vengeance climbing from the pit of his stomach and into his throat with every minute he spends in this place by himself. Eren is still not here. Something could be wrong. Something could have happened. How on earth would he find out…
It’s her name that pulls him out of the spiralling dread that hovers like a thick fog around his torso.
Ceylin Erguvan
But it’s not her voice. He would know her voice in his sleep. He hears it often enough even then - rich, musical, and ever so lovely.
This voice is raspier, deeper, and there’s an edge of panic to it.
He looks up and comes to a halt at the sight of her mother and sister. For a moment he wonders why they are here. How dare they! The image of Ceylin in pieces in front of her family home comes to the front of his mind immediately. Her inconsolable sobs, her quiet, graceful resilience even in the face of her family turning their backs on her.
If it were any other night he would not let this go quietly. But right now, he watches as they speak to the desk officer in charge and nod at whatever they hear. His eyes follow them as Ceylin’s sister leads Gül hanım slightly to the side towards a bench and goes to fetch them water.
He resumes his pacing on the other side of the room, hoping they would not approach him. He would probably make a poor impression on his in-laws in his current state. Even if they don’t know he is their relative.
His feet take him to the entrance and his whole body jolts backwards as a whiff of cold air hits him. The doors swish open.
His heart sinks as he realizes it’s not Eren in front of him.
“My my, you are quick to arrive, Ilgaz Savci,” the honeyed voice of Pars calls out to him. “At this point I can only assume they have a bed for you at the precinct.”
Ilgaz clenches his fist in an effort to to stop himself from rising to Pars’ petty comments. It’s not the place and definitely not the place.
Mercifully, Pars seems to be satisfied with scoring just one hit and passes him over as he starts calling out orders as if he owns the place.
“Ilgaz!” a gentle voice calls out.
It’s the wrong voice. It’s the wrong arms that come to hug him. It’s the wrong smell that fills his nostrils. As she pulls away from him all he can see is soft ginger waves in a bun and bright blue eyes.
“Neva, I told you to stay in the car!” Pars calls out behind him, and Ilgaz uses the distraction to take a few steps away.
“I’m an adult, you can’t tell me what to do,” Neva fires back without hesitation.
Ilgaz looks to the doors and tunes the siblings out. It’s hardly the first time he’s born witness to this argument.
He turns on his heel and goes to get some water, perfectly aware that if there were whispers before, with the arrival of Prosecutor Pars and Neva, the talk has turned into outright gossip.
He grabs a bottle of water from the vending machine and opens it. The water down his throat miraculously washes away some of the anxiety. He puts the lid back on and returns back to the waiting area.
Pars has disappeared into Eren’s office, barricading himself in to prepare for the upcoming interrogations. A quick scan of the room reveals that his in-laws are still on that bench and he can feel Ailyn’s eyes on him, but ignores the urge to make eye contact. Neva is seated not far from them as well, occupied by her phone.
For the third time that same night his breath stops as yet another freezing gust of wind hits the precinct and the doors open.
Eren has his arms around a woman wrapped in a thick woolen blanket. She looks exhausted. She looks like a mess. She looks like the most beautiful creature he has ever laid eyes on.
He throws the half empty bottle of water at an empty seat. His legs seem to carry him on their own volition.
“Ceylin!”
He closes the distance between them within seconds, all but pushing Eren’s arms away, as he wraps around her.
And once again, he breathes in.
The drive to the precinct is quiet. She doesn’t speak. Eren doesn’t ask. It’s a testament to how well they’ve come to know each other - connected both through solving Inci’s murder and their regard of a certain straight laced prosecutor.
She keeps her head against the window, the cool feeling of the glass against her skin, actually helping reign in the monster of a headache. She looks through the window and her eyes track the Istanbul lights, one after another. Like she is inside a tunnel and the lights are her way out.
The only time Eren speaks is to let her know they got him. Her sister’s murderer is locked up at the precinct. The weight in Ceylin’s chest that she’s been carrying around her ever since that day in the Morgue, finally cracks.
They pull up through the front door and she pulls the blanket around her as she gets out of the car. A part of her knows it’s ridiculous, there’s a perfectly good heating system inside, and besides, it’s only September. But that blanket is the only thing holding the pieces of her together, so she wraps it tight and holds on.
She will not cry.
She will not break.
Eren walks her in and the bright luminescent lights of the precinct feel like an onslaught against her vision.
And then she sees him. She sees his face as he notices her and the weight in her chest cracks further. She hears him call for her in his usual stern timbre which she has become fond of.
She opens her arms just as he wraps his around her. Her blanket falling on the ground at her feet.
“Ilgaz,” she chokes out into his chest as his hand presses against her back and his other one wraps around her shoulders.
His warmth seeps into her once again. He is always so warm, so genuine with his affection. She wraps her own arms around his torso and buries her nose into his shirt as she breathes in his familiar, comforting scent. She feels his nose against her temple and she could swear she felt a brush of his lips against her hair.
She has no idea how long they stay like that, but eventually she feels her blood is no longer freezing in her veins. Her heart is beating normally for the first time in what feels like years. And her knees feel steady, ready to bear any weight thrown her way.
She doesn’t know if it’s a sudden sense of modesty, or the purposeful throat clearing around them, but she pushes away from him, just so she can actually look at him now.
Her heart sinks. He looks exhausted. She sees the look of worry in his eyes. The tension in his shoulders.
The voice inside her head yells at her to run . Seems she is bound to hurt everyone she cares for. Look what her thoughtlessness has caused him. If only she listened and allowed him to take her out instead. They could be having a grand time about now.
Run! Save him from yourself.
And yet she cannot. Maybe once this whole thing is over she will gather the courage to let him go, but for now, she craves his warmth. His calm, centering presence is the only thing that has kept her from completely losing her mind. He called her selfish once. It’s ironic how he doesn’t realize how right he was.
They maintain silent eye contact for a few seconds more, as if each of them is trying to make sure that this is not a dream.
And then
“What were you thinking!” his voice hisses, not loud enough to cause a scene, but just enough to voice how angry he is with her.
She doesn’t say anything, but rather she bends down and picks up her blanket from the ground, throwing it around her shoulders.
“Ceylin, why would you go there alone?!” his voice remains angry, but she can’t help but notice it doesn’t reach his eyes. She can’t help but feel his palm still clutching at her elbow.
“I needed answers,” for once she tells him the truth. All of it. Without any decoration or deceptions. “I needed to know why he did it.”
He looks at her for a moment longer and then his hand slides down her arm and stops at her palm, clutching it. He leads her to a bench and sits her down. She doesn’t take her eyes away from him as he sits down and reaches to the side to grab the bottle of water and places it between them in a silent invitation.
She would laugh if she wasn’t so drained. One day maybe, she will ask him how water became their thing .
A beat of silence stretches between them again, and then his arms grip hers, firmly, though not painfully. For such a strong and stern man, he sure seemed to have tenderness down to an art form.
“You went to see a murderer all by yourself, Ceylin!” she can’t help but look at his eyes at the sound of her name. Her treacherous heart skipping a beat every time she heard her name on his lips.
Their eye contact doesn’t last long. She can’t bear the pain, the conflict, in his gaze and looks down at her feet.
And just like that the warmth is gone from her. The bench rattles slightly at the movement next to her.
Ilgaz is on his feet, pacing, his hands tugging at his hair.
“You keep running recklessly into danger. How many times have I told you, your luck will eventually run out?! What needs to happen before you realize that you are not invincible?!”
She keeps her eyes firmly on the tips of her heels at his lecture. Normally she would huff and puff and defend herself. But right now, she knows, she deserves every stone he casts his way. She deserves the force of his wrath for the suffering she’s caused him and the way she turned his life on its head.
A shadow comes over her and the bright luminescent lights no longer glare into her eyes.
A warm finger presses against her chin and pushes. She lets him guide her face upwards, until they are once again looking at each other - eye to eye.
He’s kneeling in front of her now. His wide frame, no doubt, obscuring them from view.
“You could have been hurt,” he tells her, any traces of anger gone.
The only thing written on his face is raw emotion. That same emotion is currently raging inside her chest. The very one she refuses to name and say out loud. Because once she does, running would become impossible.
“I was scared for you.” His confession stuns her. He has been fearless like a lion through it all.
“I was so scared,” his voice breaks ever so slightly and she can’t take it any more.
Her body surges forward and her arms lock around his neck, as if she could take all the pain from him and absorb it into herself. She doesn’t let got when he gets up awkwardly and moves to sit beside her. She holds him tighter when she feels his arms around her again.
She knows she can’t hold it in any longer, then. A sob rips through her throat and out of her lips.
She cries for Inci, for their families, and last but not least, she cries for him.
She breaks.
By all means it should have been enough to see Ceylin walk through the precinct doors in one piece. It’s why they’ve come here. To ease their conscience despite the circumstances.
The phone call from her landlord had rattled them. Interrupted their dinner. They’d tried to continue dining at her father’s insistence, but Ailyn could see the look in her mother’s eye. The look, equal to the feeling in her own heart. The ever present question of how much more loss can one soul bear before it breaks.
In a rare moment of defiance, her mother gets up, and Ailyin knows exactly where her mother is headed. It’s a split second decision to join her. She tells the family that it is to make sure her mother is alright, given her fragile mental state.
But deep down inside she knows, it’s because Ceylin is and always will be her little sister.
So she sits there and watches as Ceylin walks in with the detective in charge of the case. She recognizes the blanket around her shoulders as the one that used to belong to their grandmother. Ceylin has been using it since they were children.
She wrestles with herself. She wants to go and hug her sister. But at the same time, she cannot find it in her to forgive her sister’s unspeakable treachery. A cursory glance at her mother reveals to Ailyn, she is struggling with the same.
The decision is taken from them momentarily as she watches that wretched man as he calls out to her sister and walks briskly towards her. The same one who pulled Ceylin away from her family by hiring her as defence counsel. The murderer’s brother. The high and mighty prosecutor.
She thought they were merely colleagues, but based on the way they react to each other she can only conclude Ceylin lied about that as well. Even though they are only hugging, the scene feels too intimate and Ailyin has to fight the urge to look away. But it’s as if she’s been bewitched.
Her eyes follow them around the room to the bench on the other side of the waiting area. She watches as they exchange words and then the prosecutor is on his feet, pacing like a caged animal. She can’t really hear his words but she’s a good enough judge of character to sense his anger. With a father like hers, she knows what anger looks like.
But then just as it ignited, the flames of his wrath snuff out. She can see his shoulders sag as Ceylin reaches out to him. She watches her sister as she reaches for the half empty bottle of water, she saw the prosecutor drinking from earlier, and takes a drink herself. Draining all of it in one breath.
There is an undeniable intimacy to their gestures. A familiarity that feels almost illogical considering they haven’t even known this man until several weeks ago. She is fascinated and she hates it.
The prosecutor gets up again, but her sister’s hand reaches out so quickly Ailyn could have missed the movement if she blinked too long. Ceylin’s fingers held onto him, her head shaking, clearly not wanting him to leave. She sees his lips moving, but the Ceylin’s head shakes harder. She watches as he relents and sits back down.
She feels her mother’s palm at her elbow and sees similar questions in her eyes. Though knowing her she wouldn’t hesitate to walk over to them and demand an explanation. And even though Ailyn was the angriest at her little sister that she has been in their entire life, she knew she had to spare Ceylin that scene. Whatever was happening in her life is no longer their concern. They’d disowned her, denied her a home and a family. For all intents and purposes the woman across from them is a complete stranger.
So she squared her shoulders and turned to face her mother.
“Ceylin Kaya!” a male voice rang around them clearly and Ailyin’s head snapped to the source.
The prosecutor on their case, had come out of the office and was waiting with an arm outstretched in an invitation.
“I will need your statement,”
But surely she heard the wrong name. Maybe he was here for another case. Another woman.
Except as soon as she glanced towards Ceylin she saw her sister stand up, one hand still in the grip of the prosecutor.
A prosecutor whose name is Ilgaz Kaya. But that’s impossible. A quick inspection reveals no ring on Ceylin’s fingers. Yet she marches with her head held high towards the office.
She fields her mother’s frantic questions, wishing she had any answers to give, and feeling angry at herself for caring about a traitor.
Whatever Ceylin had to say is sure over quick, because it’s only minutes before she comes back out, looking calmer and more collected than she has seen her all night.
Her feet itch to get up and demand an explanation.
Why would you care about a stranger?
She stays put.
Ceylin heads towards the water cooler and grabs a cup of water. She blames Ilgaz for that habit. The man treats water like it’s some magical potion that will make everything right in the world.
She almost wants to believe him.
For the first time that night she takes a look around. Now that she’s given her statement, it’s as a sliver of her sharpness has returned to her and she inspects the waiting room. She is not surprised to spot Neva sitting in the corner, staring very hard at her phone. She must have arrived with Pars.
There was only a brief flash of unease in her chest at the realization that Neva might have witnessed her whole exchange with Ilgaz. Though to be fair, neither of them is thinking straight tonight. Besides, Neva knows her and Ilgaz are married. The unease disappears just as quickly as it appeared.
She’d just reached the bench when she hears a loud crash echo from Eren’s office. She can’t hear what they are saying but Ilgaz is suddenly on his feet. Whatever the problem is, it can’t end well.
She forgets all about sitting stills and heads back towards the office. As soon as she gets to the door she sees Eren on Ilgaz’s side, trying to calm him down. She also sees Pars sitting back in his armchair with a satisfied smirk on his face. As good as a prosecutor he is, he can be a very trying character.
Whatever Eren says to Ilgaz has him even more livid. That’s her cue. She swings the door open.
“God damn it Pars! This sick bastard attacked my wife !” Ilgaz’s words ring out not only in the room but in the corridor as the door swings shut behind her.
“And I am telling you, Ilgaz Savci, that I cannot hold him for more than twenty four hours without substantial, damning evidence.” Pars answers, as if to a child.
She stands next to Ilgaz and places a hand on his arm.
“Enough.” she tells him, “Enough.” she repeats, looking straight at Pars.
She has, quite frankly, had it with their alpha male bullshit. They could sort it out in court.
“Ceylin hanım, is right,” Eren cuts in, “It has been a very long night. We’re all due for a break and some rest. We can continue tomorrow. That curly dog is sitting in a sturdy cell and he’s not going anywhere. I’ll guard him myself.”
That seems to placate both men.
“I don’t suppose you’d like to stay for the testimony of the accused?” Pars asks.
It’s tempting. On any other day she wouldn’t hesitate. But right now all she wants is to sleep. A quick look at Ilgaz tells her he shares her opinion.
“No thank you,” she replies, “I’m sure we can read his testimony tomorrow,”
With that Pars dismisses them and they walk together out the office.
She is hit with a proverbial tonne of bricks as they walk out. Any adrenaline that kept her going was starting to burn off.
“I want to go home,” she tells him and her fingers find themselves laced into his once again. “I’m so tired.”
Ilgaz smiles at her “Then let’s get you home to bed,”
She doesn’t have it in her to correct him that she’d be going to the couch.
Her stomach rumbles loudly just as they reach the precinct doors.
“It seems you are also hungry, avukat hanım . “ Ilgaz laughs and his fingers squeeze hers.
It’s completely amazing to her how after one of the most hideous nights of her life, he can still make her smile.
“I have it on good authority you are a good cook, Savci ,” she teases him right back. “You could cook me some dinner.”
He pretends to think for just a moment as they reach their car.
“How about I cook you breakfast instead?”