Chapter Text
Beatrice didn’t grow up wanting to be a criminal. She was blind once, like Ava, to the realities that surrounded her. It took an embarrassingly long time to realise her parents were deep into organised crime, and their involvement limited Beatrice’s options significantly. Their violent deaths, amongst other complications, left Beatrice destitute at a young age… And crime quickly became her only option. Luckily she met Camila a few years later, a friendship that elevated them both to the next level. Still, Beatrice sometimes wished she’d been able to go to law school.
“Hit him again,” urged Shannon. Mary obliged a moment later, slapping Adriel’s lackey across the face. He spit blood onto the floor but didn’t speak.
“I can do this all day.” Mary crossed her muscular arms and Beatrice gave silent thanks that Mary was on her side. “Might as well talk now, rather than later.”
“No.”
Turning away, Beatrice stepped into the office. While she did wonder what her non-criminal life might have been like, it would be dishonest to say that she hated the life she had. Crime had its perks, after all. The money, the cars, the freedom… That was all nice. But more than all that, Beatrice was in love with the rush. Outsmarting other syndicates, keeping everyone out of jail, pulling off jobs - that was beautiful. Alluring. Addictive.
“Hey.” Camila looked up from her computer and interrupted Beatrice’s thoughts of the past. Probably for the best, as she couldn’t afford to be so sentimental right now. “How’s it going out there?”
“Slow.” Beatrice frowned. “He hasn’t talked yet.”
“Maybe we’ll have better luck with his phone.” Camila gestured to the device she had plugged into her computer. “I can’t believe he had it on him!”
“Unless…” Beatrice trailed off. She was probably being too paranoid. But it was rare they were taken off guard once, let alone twice. Her worry was warranted.
“Unless they intentionally allowed him to get taken and the phone is full of a virus that will expose us?” Camila wore a knowing smile, and Beatrice nodded. “I considered that. And took necessary precautions. Don’t worry.” She pointed to the empty chair next to the desk. “Sit down for a minute. You look tired.”
“Gee, thanks for that,” mumbled Beatrice. She was tired, though. Reluctantly sitting down, she watched Camila type endless lines of code with little thought. Modern phones were far more difficult to crack than the older ones, but Camila couldn’t be slowed down, it seemed.
“Hm.” Camila was distracted by an error message on her screen. Maybe she could be slowed, actually. “Hold on.” She swiftly rose and left the room. Feeling oddly outside herself, Beatrice stayed put.
From the main area of the warehouse, Beatrice heard a man’s scream. A few moments later, Camila opened the door once more. In her hands, wrapped in a towel, was the man’s thumb.
“This works.” Camila decided, pressing the digit to the fingerprint sensor. “He still won’t talk, though.”
“Shannon must be pissed.” Beatrice wasn’t bothered by the thumb. She’d seen much worse. Plus, her thoughts were somewhat distracted, she was worried about Ava.
“Oh, you have no idea.”
“I do.” Beatrice managed a weak smile. “That’s why I came in here.”
“I see…” Camila’s eyes were focused on the screen. “Ava keeps texting me about you, by the way. Something about falling down a flight of stairs? That, and the fact that you haven’t replied.”
“Don’t ask.” Shaking her head, Beatrice continued. “I hate having to lie.”
“Me too.”
“Normally it doesn’t bother me, but with Ava I -”
“Oh, I know.” Camila interrupted Beatrice with a wink. “I know. ”
“Cam, it’s not like that.” Beatrice crossed her arms. “It will never be like that.”
“I can hold out hope, can’t I?”
“It’s completely futile. She’s getting married soon.” Beatrice hated to be the voice of reason, but she couldn’t live in denial, even though she longed for it sometimes. She’d be lying if she denied the imaginations, the distracting thoughts of what it would be like to share a life with Ava.
“For now, I suppose.” Camila waved a hand.
“When you say it with that tone it makes it seem like you’re plotting something.”
“I’m not plotting anything. Well, not beyond the confines of my career and a great Christmas gift for Lilith. But there are cracks forming, Bea. I’m sure you’ve noticed them. I’m sure Ava has told you more than she’s told me.”
“I can’t hang any hope on that.” Beatrice sighed. “Not again.”
“I feel -” Camila was interrupted by Beatrice’s phone ringing. A quick look at the screen showed Ava’s number. “Speak of the devil.”
“And she shall appear.” Beatrice answered the phone. “Hello?”
“Beatrice!” Ava was basically yelling. “I’ve texted you fourteen times in the past six days, with no reply. I’m starting to think you don’t like me.”
“I like you.” Beatrice replied, while Camila rolled her eyes. Shooting her a joking glare, Beatrice stood and moved towards the door. “But I’m sorry, seriously. I know it’s no excuse, but work has been busy.”
Crossing through the warehouse proper, their hostage screamed once more. Beatrice winced and ran the last few steps to the exterior door.
“Was that a scream?” Ava’s concern was obvious in her tone. “Is everything alright?”
“It was…” Fuck, Beatrice’s lies became more ridiculous as the weeks went on. Luckily, Ava was a trusting woman. “A frustrated client. His father wrote him out of the will.”
“Oh, Jesus.”
“It’s an ugly situation, for sure.” Beatrice took a deep breath. It was dark outside, but not too late. Still, the dockyards were mostly empty after five, save for a few international cargo ships unloading in the distance. Gentle waves lapped against the dock, which might have been calming to someone less stressed. As it stood, Beatrice was made of stress. “But yes, I’m sorry for not replying.”
“It’s alright… Wait, you aren’t secretly mad at me, are you?”
“No, God, no.” Beatrice smiled, she couldn’t help it. “Is everything alright?”
“I…” The hesitation was telling enough on its own. Most of the time, Ava talked quickly and decisively, a natural fit for Beatrice, who preferred to listen. “I can’t stop thinking about what you said. What you asked.”
“If you still love him?”
“Ding ding, we have a winner.” Ava sounded sad.
“Do you want to talk?” Beatrice looked at her watch. It was only seven. “I can try and sneak away for dinner.”
“Not try, do.” Ava was jokingly demanding, which Beatrice loved but always pretended not to. “Camila and I have been for coffee twice in the last week, so I’m not sure what your excuse is.”
“Wait, you have?” Beatrice asked, confused. When did Camila have time for everything? Did she ever sleep?
“Yes!” Laughing, Ava continued. “If you looked up from your work every now and then you might have noticed.”
“Hey now.”
“I’ve heard you have a tendency to get lost in the work sometimes. That’s all.”
“Fair, fair.” Beatrice sighed. “Do you want me to come pick you up?”
“Please and thank you.” Ava’s smile was audible, but Beatrice would have preferred to see it in person. Luckily, she didn’t need to wait long.
“I’ll be there soon.”
No one objected to Beatrice’s departure, as there wasn’t much to be done until their captive broke… Or his phone yielded some useful information. Thus, Beatrice was headed to Ava’s house within ten minutes of their conversation. Nervous excitement ran through Beatrice’s veins, an excitement she tried to stifle because it made her feel oddly guilty. By the time she reached Ava’s doorstep, she’d come to no meaningful conclusions beyond her desire for more sleep. Constant exhaustion made it harder to keep a handle on one’s emotions.
“Hi.” Ava opened the door only a few seconds after Beatrice knocked. “You know, you could just text that you’re here. I wouldn’t be offended.”
“That seems rude.” Every time Beatrice came to pick Ava up, she always went to the door.
“I think you’ll make someone very happy one day.” Ava replied, patting Beatrice on the shoulder as they walked to the car.
“I doubt that,” muttered Beatrice. If it wasn’t Ava, it was no one. Beatrice had made peace with that a long time ago. Her particular line of work didn’t leave a lot of suitors or free time, either, so it was never much of a concern. “But we’re not here to discuss my love life, are we?”
“Right to the punch then. Got it.” Ava sank slightly in the expensive leather seat. “How’s your hand, by the way?”
“Fine. Healed.” This was, thankfully, not a lie. “Don’t change the subject.”
“Jeez. Alright.” Her reluctance couldn’t have been more obvious. “I just… Like I said, I can’t stop thinking about what you said.”
“And?”
“And I feel nothing!” Ava exclaimed, a flood of emotion all at once. To say Beatrice felt guilty for pushing would be a massive understatement. “Nothing beyond friendship, at least.”
“Are you sure?” Beatrice didn’t know what else to ask.
“I am, yes.” Ava buried her face in her hands. “I don’t love JC anymore… Honestly, I’m kind of terrified that I never did.”
“Really?” Beatrice had to work exceptionally hard to keep calm. She felt overwhelmingly bad for Ava, her normally positive friend who was now distraught.
Fittingly, it began to rain. Beatrice turned her windshield wipers on.
“Am I a horrible person?”
“No.” Beatrice didn’t need to consider the question for a moment. “No, you’re not. Your worry about hurting him is telling enough, as is the fact that you’re considering getting married just to avoid hurting his feelings.”
“How do you know?” Ava glanced over. The ambient street lights were reflected in her tears.
“I’ve known you for a long time now. I can tell you’re beating yourself up about your feelings, as if you’ve done something wrong.” Sighing, Beatrice tightened her grip on the steering wheel. “While the situation is difficult… Your feelings are valid, you haven’t done anything wrong by feeling them or acknowledging them.”
“See?” With a weak grin, Ava wiped her tears. “This is why I like you better than everyone. You always know what to say.” At that, Beatrice couldn’t help but laugh. She did not think of herself as particularly wise, or good at talking about emotions. No, this felt much more like Camila territory. Still smiling, albeit with an edge of sadness, Beatrice pulled onto a side street. One of Ava’s favourite restaurants was around the corner.
“We’re going to Tony’s?!” Ava’s excitement was obvious and immediate. Beatrice adored it, she loved how Ava found joy in the small things.
“You didn’t specify where you wanted to eat, and I felt like you could use the ice cream.” Beatrice was honoured by Ava’s reaction. It felt like a win. “And I think I have an umbrella in the trunk, hold on.”
She stepped out into the rain. It was cold against her face, but Beatrice didn’t mind. Quickly, she opened the trunk, intent on not making Ava wait too long. Of course, Ava wasn’t one to wait at all. She was by Beatrice’s side in a moment.
“If you don’t have one -” Her sentence fell short. Beatrice looked over, concerned at what had caused the interruption. Ava’s eyes were firmly fixed on one corner of the trunk. “Is that a… Gun? ” Her voice dropped to a whisper on the last word.
Fuck. Beatrice inhaled sharply. She felt like an idiot. The last several days had been insanely busy, and dangerous… Which is why there was a Sig Sauer nestled in her open gym bag.
“It’s a dangerous city and I live alone.” Beatrice hoped Ava didn’t hear the tremor in her voice. “Just a precaution.”
“Have you used it?” Ava’s eyes were wide.
“Just at the range. To learn.” Beatrice lied and hated herself for it.
“Wow.”
“What?” Thankfully, Beatrice found her umbrella and pulled it open, before closing the trunk.
“I can’t believe my best friend is a gun totin’, rootin’ shootin’ gal.” Ava chuckled to herself as she made her way down the soaked sidewalk. Crisis averted, then. She definitely didn’t need to know about the pistol hidden beneath Beatrice’s hoodie, or the blade strapped to her leg.
“That’s definitely a word for it…” Jokingly, Beatrice rolled her eyes. Pretending to be at ease was the least ‘at ease’ thing she could do.
They got a corner booth by the window, with a depressing view of the empty, rainy street. Beatrice stared out at the cement and tried to ignore her own stilted reflection. Meanwhile, Ava looked over the menu. While there was a certain whimsy to Ava’s behaviour, Beatrice wasn’t a fool. She could see the turmoil beneath the surface. Helping would be difficult, undoubtedly, but Beatrice wanted to. No, she needed to.
Ava ended up ordering for them both, two specialty burgers, fries, milkshakes. That was the order, though, so Beatrice didn’t mind. Only once the food was out did the conversation resume, a small miracle given Ava’s terrible table manners.
“I don’t know what to do.”
“I know.” Beatrice’s sympathy could not be understated.
“Fuck…” Ava’s eyes were full of tears again. “I don’t want to hurt him, I don’t but… God, I can’t go through with this.”
“I think going through with it, then having to be honest later down the line would be… A painful disservice to you both.” Beatrice didn’t think of her well buried feelings for Ava, all she cared about right now was the well-being of her friend. “You should try talking to him, though. Seriously. If he loves you even half as much as I think he will understand, painful as this is.”
“Fuck, he loves me. ” Thankfully, Ava was finished eating, because she sank down in the booth and covered her face. “Am I a terrible person, Beatrice? Be honest.”
“No.”
“Would you tell me if I was?”
“Yes.”
“Why don’t I feel anything?” Ava pushed her thumbs into her eyes, a weak attempt to not cry. “Am I a monster? I should love him back! He is kind and caring and handsome!”
“You can’t force yourself to feel something that’s not there. You just can’t.” Beatrice’s heart ached for Ava. “That doesn’t make you a bad person.”
“Are you sure?”
“I’m sure.”
There were another several minutes of silence. Ava ordered a second milkshake. Beatrice sat still, tense as hell and trying to appear calm.
“I am not looking forward to this conversation.” Ava finally spoke again. “He is going to be devastated. Mad, probably, too.”
“It’s important, though. It’s the right thing to do.”
“There’s so many complications, I -”
“Don’t focus on the logistics. Not yet. You’ll only drive yourself mad.” Sighing, Beatrice continued. “I’ll help with that part. Just talk to him. Tell him how you feel.”
“I appreciate you, Beatrice.” Ava reached across the table, and took Beatrice’s hand in her own. It was cold from holding the metal milkshake tin. “Maybe I’ll marry you in the church instead. Seems a shame to waste the reservation I wanted so badly.”
“Funny.” Beatrice felt like she would combust. It would be a small mercy.
“Seriously, though. I appreciate you. I know you’ve been working a ton and the last thing you probably want to do is come to dinner and hear me cry about my failing relationship.”
“Ava, you’re my friend.” Beatrice found it hard to focus, Ava was still holding her hand! “I am here for you. Plus, this is a break from work I otherwise wouldn’t have had. It’s all good, seriously.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes! Of course I’m sure.”
“Sorry, sorry.” Ava shook her head. “You wouldn’t lie to me. I don’t know why I’m second guessing you.”
“Exactly.” There it was again, the guilt. “Plus, if I was annoyed, I could just shoot you.”
“That’s good!” Ava laughed, happy and genuine. It took the sharp edge of the evening, it took the macabre mood from the air. For a moment, there were no complications between them. There was no failing relationship, no mafia ties, and definitely not a growing web of lies that Beatrice had to keep straight. Of course, nothing can ever last. Beatrice’s phone vibrated, and she checked it under the table.
Shannon:
Had a break. Need you here ASAP.
[sent 9:02pm]