Chapter Text
Beatrice laid in Ava’s guest room and stared up at the dark ceiling. You. You. You. The single word echoed over and over in her head, keeping her from falling asleep. Why would JC even insinuate such a thing? More worryingly, Ava’s reaction. She’d dealt with so much tonight, a concerning gauntlet of emotion that Beatrice had never witnessed before.
This uncertainty was worse than any pain, though Beatrice had endured far worse than her current injury. Still, Ava basically begged her to stay, so it didn’t seem like she was too mad. Conversely, the full scope of Beatrice’s lies might not have been realised yet.
“Fuck,” whispered Beatrice. She ran a hand over her face. If uncertainty was a killer, Beatrice was dead a thousand times over.
Somehow she must have found sleep though, because she awoke to weak sunlight pouring through the window. Her shoulder ached. Nervous energy outweighed the pain by a million, though. She wanted nothing more than to continue her conversation with Ava, to run out of the bedroom door and talk all day. Simultaneously, she wanted nothing less.
With a deep breath, she looked in the mirror, trying to make herself appear slightly less messy. There were heavy bags under her eyes and her hair was not tightly swept away like normal. Beatrice didn’t want this to reflect her mental state. She didn’t want them to match. Sighing, she took the few difficult steps to the door, then slowly opened it. The water was running in the kitchen, so Ava was already up. Amazing. Terrible.
“Good morning.” Ava greeted Beatrice with a cup of coffee and a weak smile, already so much more than Beatrice could have hoped for. Sunlight filtered through the blinds, painting stripes across Ava’s face. It didn’t look like she slept much, but Beatrice still thought her extraordinarily beautiful.
“Good morning.” Beatrice stood awkwardly in the doorway. She couldn’t take her eyes off Ava, no matter how hard she tried.
“Sit. Please.” Ava gestured to the chairs at the counter. Beatrice silently did as she was told. “How did you sleep?”
“Fine.” It was another lie, but what was one more harmless falsity amongst the pile of thousands. Beatrice sighed and took a sip of coffee. “You?”
“The same.” Only now, Ava was lying back. Beatrice hated that. “How’s your shoulder?”
“Fine. Really.” God, Beatrice hated this weird coldness. She wanted to give Ava more details, she wanted to be honest. Turns out, years of lying made it difficult to be truthful. Well, that and the affair accusation hanging over them both. “I’ve had worse.”
“I hate to think of you going through worse than this.” Ava turned to her cabinet, pulling out a bottle of painkillers, which she passed to Beatrice.
“That’s the life I’ve chosen for myself, unfortunately.”
“Chosen?” Ava raised an eyebrow and leaned forward slightly. “I can’t help but imagine it’s a little bit more complicated than that.”
“Alright.” At once, Beatrice acquiesced. “It’s a little more complicated than that.”
“And I wasn’t lying last night, either. I really do want to know.”
“I understand, I just…” Beatrice trailed off, more nervous than she cared to admit. And more nervous now than she was last night during the infiltration. What did that say about her mental state? That a conversation with Ava was more intense than a bullet? “I had this notion… I thought that once you found out, you would want nothing to do with me. This,” she pointed between them. “This I didn’t expect.”
“You’ve known me for a long time, Beatrice. You should have learned to expect the unexpected.”
“That’s very true.”
“Do you want breakfast?” Ava’s non sequitur spoke to the point perhaps better than any other potential reply.
“Oh, no. I’m not hungry.” Beatrice added another lie to the tally. Luckily, Ava ignored her.
“Well, you’ll need your strength if you’re going to explain yourself. So, excuse me if I ignore that.” She pulled out a pan as she spoke.
“Alright,” whispered Beatrice. Defeated, she took a sip of coffee and laid her head on the table. “And you know what’s funny about all this?”
“What?” Ava glanced away from the stove for a minute, a curious look in Beatrice’s direction.
“I feel terrible for you finding out this way. I was supposed to be there for you last night. And I wasn’t. And you’re already going through all this and now there is the fallout from my stupid bullshit, which I don’t want you to have to deal with. I wouldn’t blame you if you decide not to be friends with me, or Camila, for not telling you. But then? Then, you’re dealing with this alone and that’s even worse.”
For a few minutes, Ava didn’t reply. She didn’t look in Beatrice’s direction at all. It was an agonising wait.
“You’re really hard on yourself, Beatrice. You know that?”
“I’ve been told once or twice.”
“You literally got shot.”
“My choice… At least tangentially. My fault.” Beatrice didn’t lift her head from the countertop. “And I could have fought better.”
“I want to know what set you on this path.” Ava was oddly adamant. “Please, Beatrice.”
“It’s a long story, are you sure?” Not only that, but it didn’t paint her in a particularly kind light. Every sentence of truth that Ava heard increased the chances of it being the last. Beatrice swallowed, nervous.
“Yes.”
“I was stupid and naïve once. I couldn’t see the empire that they’d built around me. Like you, in some ways, I developed a blind spot for those I cared about.”
“You’ve never told me about your parents before.” Ava replied in a soft voice. A moment later, she set a plate in front of Beatrice, a breakfast she wasn’t worthy of. Across the table, with a matching plate, Ava sat to face her.
“For good reason.”
After taking a respectful few bites of food, Beatrice continued. “I genuinely thought they were bankers, albeit with some mysterious quirks, bizarre schedules, and odd friends. We had multiple cleaners on retainer, good ones, I rarely caught sight of the bloodstains that built our lifestyle.” With a shallow, nervous breath, Beatrice continued. “Imagine my surprise when they’re both brutally murdered the week before I’m set to leave for university.”
“How?” Ava’s first question was surprisingly morbid, but she hadn’t run away yet. “Why? Who found them? What did you do?” The subsequent questions came quickly, and Beatrice found the curiosity surprising. Why did Ava care this much, anyhow?
“They were poisoned at a gala, then stabbed. Just to make sure the job was done.” Beatrice closed her eyes, she could still picture the scene like it was yesterday. “There was a deal that went awry between them and another syndicate. Apparently this was the price that needed to be paid.”
Ava’s reply was only thick silence, and eye contact that made Beatrice struggle to remember to breathe. Sighing, she attended to Ava’s other questions.
“I found them… The conflict left me destitute. I lost the house, the cars, my future… Everything. To make matters worse, there was a target on my head. I represented an unacceptable loose end, a threat that could exact revenge at any time.”
“Did you?”
“I… Well… Ava, I need to preface this by saying I’m not proud of my actions nor would I necessarily repeat them were I to go back in time.” Beatrice’s grip on her fork tightened, putting strain on her bruised hands. She didn’t feel it. Ava remained silent. “But yes, I did. I was young. Stupid.”
“I think you’re more worried about what I’m going to think about all this than you should be.” Ava mumbled, staring down at her breakfast. “You’re my best friend. I know who you are. Nothing is going to change that.”
“This is a lot. It has every right to change things.” Beatrice felt the true weight of her actions on her shoulders.
“Listen to me.” Now, Ava looked up. “I know you, Beatrice. I do. Sure, I didn’t know about your life of crime, and sure, the extended lying makes me angry. But I know the type of woman you are. You care about the people close to you. Genuinely. You work hard to keep them safe. Hell, you literally got shot yesterday and still drove over here, more concerned with my stupid little life than the fact that you were bleeding out!” Ava’s voice cracked, her emotion suddenly apparent. It was stifling in the best way.
“I didn’t want to break my promise.” Beatrice felt a single tear roll down her cheek and she did nothing to stop it. “I wanted to be there for you. In the moment… In the moment that was all that mattered to me. I didn’t even think about changing or hiding or… Anything.” Silently, Ava reached her hand across the table, intertwining her fingers gently with Beatrice’s.
“When you say things like that, JC’s accusation makes a little more sense.” A smile crept across Ava’s face and Beatrice felt herself turn red.
“Wait, I didn’t -” Beatrice sputtered. She tried to pull away but Ava held her close.
“I’m not saying it as an insult, Beatrice. You treat me with such respect, such kindness. It’s like no one I’ve ever known… And I find myself dropping everything for you, craving you in a way that I’ve never known, either… Reflecting on it last night, I can see why JC might have been jealous. My relationship with him paled in comparison to our friendship.”
“Friendship. Right.” Swallowing, Beatrice wondered if she might just combust at the counter. Ava was not making this easy for her at all. Normally, she was the type of person who shied away from emotional discussions such as this. But between her criminal lifestyle and Ava’s newfound singleness… It was a rough morning, alright? And that isn’t even including the gunshot wound.
“So what now?” Ava seemed completely blind to the effect she was having on Beatrice. Somehow, this was even more frustrating. “Are you in danger?”
“I’m always in danger.” Beatrice spoke, then rolled her eyes. That sounded dramatic, even if it was true. “We stole approximately fifteen million dollars, so I can’t imagine they’re too happy with us right now. Retribution is almost a guarantee.”
“Can I ask a question?”
“As many as you’d like.”
“What’s stopping you from walking away?” There was concern etched across Ava’s features, welling in her eyes and reflected in the window. “If you have millions of dollars, why can’t you just retire? Settle down. Maybe get a dog, or something.”
“Once you’re in, it’s hard to leave. The more successful you are, the bigger the target on your head.” Beatrice wished it were simpler, she genuinely did. And if Ava wanted to walk away with her, well, it would take no convincing. But such was not the world they lived in. “If you’re successful, the target only grows. It doesn’t disappear if you do. And with enough money, you can always be found.”
“Beatrice?” Ava’s worry somehow became more obvious. “Was this week the first time someone tried to kill you?” At that, all Beatrice could do was laugh. Even with the look of horror on Ava’s face, Beatrice still found herself laughing.
“Sorry, sorry.” Beatrice wiped away her tears. “Sorry. But no. No. I wouldn’t be able to give you a number. It’s constant.”
“Oh.”
“And this is part of the reason I kept you in the dark.” Beatrice snapped back to reality, painful, harsh reality. “It’s dangerous for you to know.”
“I’m relieved you told me.” Ava managed a soft smile. “Though I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t worried…”
“Which is yet another reason to stay quiet.”
“Beatrice, you can’t ask me not to care about you.”