Chapter Text
“You are ridiculous, you know that?!” Ava spoke with a certain anger, but it was interlaced with a humour that made Beatrice feel less bad. She sighed into her phone.
“Why now?”
“I know I’m like the resident idiot, the one who didn’t realise you were in the mafia, but did you really think I wouldn’t notice all the security at the hospital?”
“I mean… I’d definitely hoped.” Beatrice tried to joke back, but it fell sort of flat. She was happy she was in her office and not in the main meeting area where everyone would be able to hear her conversation.
“Do you not trust me?”
“No, Ava, it’s not you that I distrust. That couldn’t be further from the truth.”
And that was not a lie, for once. Ava had stubbornly insisted on going to work, despite Beatrice’s numerous protests. It seemed only fair to then call Mary, and ask her to deploy a contingent of security to keep an eye out.
“Then what is it?” Ava’s frustration was evident in her voice, and some of the humour fell away. Beatrice frowned.
“Do you not recall what happened yesterday? Are you armed?”
“No, of course I’m not armed. This is a hospital!”
“All the more reason for the security, then.” Beatrice pinched the bridge of her nose, exhaled slowly, then continued. “Ava. We recently stole millions of dollars from a different syndicate, and killed several of their best men. While I hate to reduce you like this, you are excellent leverage that seems to not understand the danger she is in.”
“I understand,” countered Ava. Beatrice could almost picture the pouty look on her face. “And before you tell me that I don’t… Just… I do. It’s called living in denial, okay, look it up.”
“Why are you in denial?”
“Because this makes me a burden. I can’t live my life without being a burden, case and point, the security guards dotted all over my floor. And they’re not subtle, by the way!”
“You’re not a burden.” Beatrice spoke softly, but with as much authoritative confidence as she could muster.
“Would this have happened if you didn’t tell me?”
“Yes, most likely.” Beatrice hated this reality, but she was happy to be able to tell Ava the truth. “We are being attacked in a way I’ve never seen before. So in some ways, it’s better that you know.”
“I’m happy to know… I am. I just… Well, I’m not sure I’ve totally processed it yet. Like, I’m here at work, as I’ve done for years now. And I can’t help but worry that every new injury that comes in might be you, might be Camila…”
“We’d never go to a hospital.” It wasn’t a comforting reply in the slightest, but Beatrice could be too logical at times. “It invites too many questions.”
“Somehow that’s even worse.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t apologise. I want to help… Somehow.” There were hospital announcements audible in the background of Ava’s end of the call. Beatrice wondered if she was busy today. And with JC out of the picture, who was bringing Ava lunch? “Even if helping just means becoming less of a burden.”
“Are you willing to start carrying a gun?”
“Again, this is a hospital. We aren’t allowed to be armed.” Ava laughed at least, which made Beatrice feel marginally better.
“Fine, fine.” Beatrice acquiesced. She didn’t want to argue. “Hopefully this will all be over in a few weeks.”
“Over how?”
“Over, as in, we eliminate the threat and restore our place at the top of this city’s pecking order.”
“And then you leave?” There was an unmistakable glint of hope in Ava’s voice.
“Ideally.” Beatrice, despite their conversation earlier this morning, couldn’t quite commit to leaving. Partially because it was far more complicated than Ava understood right now, and partially because she was scared… Scared of who she was without a conflict, and without the criminal element of her lifestyle. What would she do?
“Ideally…” Ava repeated the word. “Alright… And when you say ‘eliminate…’”
“I most likely mean kill, yes.” Beatrice was, once again, very matter of fact. Perhaps, more than she should be. But after years of lying to Ava, it was hard to be anything but. “I’m sorry if that bothers you. It’s one of the reasons I didn’t want you to know about all this.”
“Look, my whole raison d’être is helping people. Saving them when I can… But if those people tried to hurt and kill you… Well, reasons get thrown out the window at that point.”
“I didn’t realise you felt so strongly about it.” Beatrice whispered. She was happy this conversation was over the phone, lest Ava see the stupid look on her face.
“I feel very strongly.” Ava sounded completely sure. “About you especially, Beatrice.”
“Oh.” A single syllable was all Beatrice could manage.
“Just… So you’re aware.” And suddenly, Ava sounded nervous. “Anyways, my break is ending so I better get back to work and pretend that I don’t notice your security everywhere.”
“Alright. Be safe, please.” Beatrice wanted to sign off with something a little more meaningful, but she couldn’t find the right words.
“You too.” Ava seemed almost… Disappointed. The call ended.
Beatrice leaned her head onto the expensive wooden surface of her desk. Between the physical injuries and the mental ones, she had nothing left. There was a knock at the door, and she quickly lifted her head, ignoring the pain that shot through her neck with the motion.
“Hey.” Mary let herself in and closed the door behind her. “Did she notice?”
“Yes.”
“Rough.” Stepping forward, Mary sat in one of the chairs opposite Beatrice’s desk. “Is she mad?”
“Not as mad as I thought she might be. But honestly, her being alive and mad is better than her being dead.”
“For sure.” Mary paused for a moment, regarding Beatrice carefully. “We’re getting closer to finding him, Beatrice. We shouldn’t be under attack that much longer.”
“I figured as much.” Beatrice had faith in their operation.
“But…?” Mary prompted, clearly sensing that there was more on Beatrice’s mind than just the onslaught of attacks from Adriel.
“But Ava wants me to walk away from this life.”
“Oh.”
For several seconds, there was only silence. Beatrice watched as a myriad of expressions flashed across Mary’s face. They’d been friends for a long time, fought by each other’s sides… There were few secrets left between them.
“How do you feel about that?” Mary finally asked. Few secrets or not, she was respectful of Beatrice’s emotions and privacy, which was much appreciated. No doubt Camila had kept everyone filled in on what she referred to as ‘the Ava drama.’
“I don’t know.” Beatrice smiled here, a tired, worn smile. She felt slightly crazy, but she also felt beyond grateful that she was finally able to be honest with Ava. And, with JC gone… Well, there was still a chance, albeit a miniscule one. “Unsurprisingly, my feelings on the matter are complicated.”
“I have no doubt of that.” Mary grinned. “Sure, it sucks to get shot at, but there’s a lot to love… I’m not sure I can see you just walking away that easily.”
“And I’m not sure if I can.” She knew Mary would understand this. “There’s a certain draw, I… Well, you get it.”
“I do.”
“Ava’s not like us, though. She’s a good person. A defenceless good person, despite what she tries to claim.”
“I know.” Nodding, Mary continued. “But she’s also her own person, you can’t just force her into being paranoid like the rest of us.”
“I’m not paranoid.” Should she take offence at that?
“You’re a little paranoid.” Mary chuckled. “I mean, you’ve got two or three hidden weapons on you at all times, and you’re constantly checking over your shoulder. Constant vigilance, if I’ve ever seen it.”
“Okay. Fair,” conceded Beatrice. “But in our line of work, that keeps me alive.” She thought about all the times she’d caught something before it happened… And the few times she’d failed.
“Yeah, no, I know.” Mary seemed calm, calmer than Beatrice at any rate. She usually did. “But it also doesn’t lend itself well to a normal life. Which it seems like Ava wants to have with you.”
“A normal life…” Beatrice trailed off. It was hard to imagine.
“Just… Something to think about.” Mary had a knowing look in her eyes. “But in more pressing news, we should be ready to move on another one of Adriel’s fronts within a few days.”
“Where is it?”
“He has a handshake deal with a bank downtown. They agree to look the other way on his dirty money, and distribute it amongst their patrons. In return, they get a sizable cut.”
“Good deal.” Beatrice nodded. It was difficult to launder money, so deadly frustrations aside, there was a professional amount of jealousy for Adriel’s situation.
“Lilith needs to iron out a few more of the financial details, but that’ll be done quickly. In the meantime, it probably wouldn’t be a bad idea to see if Vincent knows anything.”
“Shit.” Beatrice didn’t want to talk to him, but she knew Mary was right.
And so, later that night, she found herself making the rounds once again. Dive bar after dive bar, thoughts torn between Ava and how Vincent had betrayed them. Fun stuff. Her body ached from the cold, but she ignored it. In the fifth bar she checked, Beatrice found the man she was looking for. Without hesitation, she ducked into the booth he occupied alone, and unholstered her weapon beneath the table.
“Beatrice. Nice to see you.” Vincent didn’t smile, but he was unnervingly calm as usual. “Surprised to see you still standing.”
“It’s crazy how many people still feed you information,” countered Beatrice. Even their conversations were combative, albeit for a good reason.
Years ago, they were partnered with Vincent, a well-respected ‘connector’ of sorts, one who could fight his way out of a conflict as well. Beatrice would be lying if she didn’t acknowledge his instrumental role in helping them rise to power. Just as they were becoming truly dominant, Vincent sold them out, hoping to earn favour with a more powerful family. Of course, no one values a snitch, regardless of the payout. Vincent was relegated to a life of low level criminality, which was the karmic retribution Beatrice felt he deserved.
“I have a kind face.” Vincent smiled. The damage she left across his visage upon their last meeting had mostly faded, but it wasn’t unrealistic that they’d go for round two.
“Sure. How much is it going to take for some information about Adriel’s next move?”
“I can’t be bought.”
“Since when?” Beatrice raised an eyebrow. “I can beat it out of you if you’d prefer.”
“I have a different payment in mind.” Vincent’s smile grew, as did Beatrice’s uneasiness. “And to be fair, you look like you can barely stand up right now. Plus, I’m not that drunk. I think I could take you.”
“I have a gun.” Beatrice stated the obvious, knowing it was weak. Silenced or not, she wasn’t going to risk shooting him in public unless it was absolutely necessary. Embarrassed as she was, this wasn’t necessary.
“And the sky is blue. Big whoop.” Obviously he saw through that. “There’s a lot of innocent witnesses tonight.” He glanced around, then pressed his knee into her gun, gentle denim against her fingers. It grossed her out.
“Fine, fine.” Beatrice hated to concede but she knew when she’d been beat. She felt like an idiot. Was she losing her edge? “What do you want?”
“A job.”