Blind Spot

by GleeCastOST (orphan_account)

Summary:

Ava's upcoming wedding to JC is developing into a stressful affair, even though Ava keeps insisting it 'doesn't really matter.' She is also completely clueless that her accountant friends might, in fact, be involved in criminal activity. But hey, that's showbiz, baby.

Notes:

HAHAHAHAAHHAHAH I CANT FINISH ANYTHING FOR THE FUCKING LIFE OF ME

Chapter 1: Forgive Me, Father

“Beatrice! It’s really not a big deal!” Ava insisted over brunch. “I mean, it’s disappointing, yes, but I’ll get over it. It’s not that important.” 

“It’s your wedding, Ava.” Beatrice put emphasis on the word, even though it pained her to do so. Ava was her best friend, though, and Beatrice was determined to be supportive, no matter the cost. “It is important.” 

 

“A church wedding is cliché.”

“Who cares?” Shaking her head, Beatrice continued. “You should have it wherever you want. It’s your wedding. ” 

“JC said he is willing to get baptised for it, but the priest said that it wasn’t good enough.” Ava explained quietly. 

 

“Why not?” 

“Because he felt like it wasn’t genuine.” Ava paused to take a bite of french toast. “Like JC was only getting baptised for the wedding, not because of any genuine religious reason. Which is true, but still.” 

“I see…” Already, the gears in Beatrice’s mind were turning, but she was careful to keep her face neutral. “I mean, you’re not particularly religious either, Ava.” 

 

“No, yeah, I know.” She laughed and Beatrice felt lucky to hear it. “But I spent a lot of time there as a kid. It’s important to me.” 

“I understand.” Nodding, Beatrice took a sip of her smoothie. She got the same thing every time they got brunch, despite Ava always telling her to try something new. A little odd, perhaps, given that they went to the same restaurant almost every Sunday, and sat on the same patio, no matter the season. 

 

“So, I guess we’ll find a new venue. I can ask Camila, maybe. She always has the hookup.” Ava shrugged and tried to pretend like it didn’t bother her. It did, though, that much was obvious. Beatrice didn’t comment. 

“Indeed she does.” 

“For an accountant it’s sometimes surprising how popular she is,” commented Ava. “She always knows the best spots, and usually the owners too.” 

 

“Camila handles a lot of the accounts for these local businesses.” Beatrice lied. She was used to lying to Ava but it never seemed to get easier. “And she always brings baked goods to the account meetings. They grow to like her.” 

“I can see why.” Laughing, Ava looked out towards the street. “In college she used to do the same for our professors. When we first met I thought it was so they would raise her grades.” 

 

“Camila definitely didn’t need her grades raised.” 

“Yeah, I realised that pretty quickly.” Ava turned her gaze back to Beatrice, it was hard to stay calm beneath the weight of it. “Anyways, it’s good your firm puts her on the outward facing jobs. She is by far the friendliest.” 

“You and I are friends, though.” Even nothing this fact gave Beatrice a slight thrill. She needed to control herself. Ava was getting married soon, and the nothingness between them would become permanent. 

 

“Only after years of awkward interactions! I finally wore you down!” Ava recounted with no shortage of emotion. And she was right. They’d met through Camila, Ava’s friend since college, at a party several years ago. A party which Beatrice hadn’t even wanted to attend anyhow. But Camila loved to meddle, so here they were.

“Yes, you were very persistent.” 

 

“I know.” Ava shoved the rest of her french toast in her mouth with a syrupy grin. “And good thing, too. You’re more fun than I thought.” 

“Gee, thanks.” 

“That was a compliment!” 

“Okay, okay.” Beatrice shook her head. “Whatever you say, Ava.” Whatever you say. Oh, how true that would ring.

 

“Speaking of parties…” Always the good-natured antagonist, Ava continued. “JC and I are having a Christmas party in a few weeks. Well, sort of the engagement party we never had, too. But also a Christmas party. Tis the season.” 

“Tis the season.” 

“Anyway, you’re invited. Obviously.” 

 

“Obviously,” echoed Beatrice with a rare smile. Ava returned the expression, which made it impossible for Beatrice to say anything else. Luckily, Ava wasn’t one to let a conversation fall to silence. 

“And you could bring a date, if you wanted…” 

“A date?” Beatrice almost choked. 

 

“Yes, a date. ” Ava made a weird and rather suggestive hand motion. Beatrice rolled her eyes. “I mean, Lilith made a comment the other day about how you were interested in someone. And to be honest, I was a little mad, because you didn’t say anything! Who is it!? And more importantly, you can ask them to come as your date so I can meet them!”

“Oh my God.” Beatrice ran a hand over her face. She was going to punch Lilith in the throat next time she saw her. “There isn’t anyone in my life, Ava. Lilith was just being a jerk.” 

 

“Hm. That tracks.” Ava didn’t look entirely convinced, but didn’t push, either. “Well, if you happen to find a date, they are welcome too. Camila hooked up a great deal at a bar downtown, I’ve rented the whole place out. Isn’t that awesome!” 

“Very much.” Nodding, Beatrice had a strong feeling that Camila’s hookup was of the illegal variety, but obviously she didn’t communicate the suspicion to Ava. “I’ll be sure to keep you posted about my date, and likely lack thereof.” 

 

“Don’t look so depressed about it!” Ava mumbled. The waiter came by before she could continue, and Beatrice beat Ava to the punch, handing him her thick, black credit card. 

“I’m not depressed.” In truth, her emotions were more complicated than that. There was only one person Beatrice would ever entertain dating, but said person was engaged to another. 

“You seem sad. Also, you always pay! I owe you like ten brunches now.” 

 

“I’m not sad.” A lie. “And I make good money, don’t worry about it.” Not a lie, but also not a truth. Beatrice’s actual career was more than just good money. “I’m also not planning a wedding.” 

“Fine, fine.” Ava pouted, but acquiesced. She knew better than to argue with Beatrice at this point. “But I owe you a drink. Well, several drinks. Maybe I’ll finally meet drunk Beatrice.” 

“I hope not.” Being drunk around Ava seemed like a terrible idea. 

 

“You are no fun.” Ava finished her mimosa in a single gulp. “I’m requesting drunk Beatrice at my wedding reception and you’re not allowed to say no.” 

“I’ll consider it.” Beatrice lied again. The waiter returned and Beatrice quickly signed the receipt, leaving him a generous tip. Money was no object and she and Ava had become regulars. Beatrice had grown to like this restaurant… But perhaps that was just the fond memories colouring reality. 

 

Rising and smoothing the linen of her shirt, Beatrice looked to Ava. “Ready?” 

“Yeah.” With a smile, Ava led Beatrice back out to the parking lot. It was unseasonably warm for late November. They’d parked beside one another, Beatrice’s luxury vehicle next to Ava’s sensible Toyota. “Til next week, then?” Ava asked, as she reached over to hug Beatrice goodbye.

“Until next week.” Blushing slightly, and hoping Ava didn’t notice, she climbed into her car. 

 

Ava waved goodbye with a smile, before backing out and heading back across town. Beatrice sat in silence for a moment. Every time she saw Ava it left her feeling slightly off balance, and this time was no different. Internally she admonished herself, frustrated. Thankfully her phone buzzed, a momentary distraction from her emotional inadequacy. 

 

Mary: SOS. meet at office asap! [sent 1:03pm]

 

Suddenly anxious in a new way, Beatrice started her car without savouring the soft rumble of the finely tuned engine. She sped towards the office, through the thankfully minimal Sunday traffic. Within ten minutes she’d parked and made it to the elevator, which carried her to the top floor office suite. 

 

As usual, she was greeted by the black and gold sign that read: Oliver, Conely, and Sharpe - Financial Services. It was a front, of course, but it was fancy enough to justify the office space, and boring enough to avoid scrutiny. Beatrice ignored her reflection in the polished sign as she typed in her access code on the door panel. 

 

“Beatrice.” Mary waved her over. Everyone was already there, gathered around Camila’s computer. How was she the last one to arrive? She’d barely taken any time to get here. Frustrated, Beatrice crossed the well-appointed office space. 

“What am I looking at?” Beatrice forced her nerves to calm and focused on Camila’s screen. Now was no time for emotion. 

 

“This.” Camila rewound the security footage. On-screen, a man walked into a bank on the other side of the city. It was clear, even given the grainy quality of the camera, that he was wearing a bulletproof vest beneath the jacket that wasn’t seasonally appropriate. Right after he crossed the threshold, the camera blinked out, leaving only fuzzy static on screen. Camila pulled up another tab, a news article from the day prior. 

 

“He robbed the bank. Killed the hostages, escaped custody.” Lilith explained with her typical demeanour. She was cold, sure, but Beatrice appreciated the clarity. 

“And it’s one of our banks.” Camila mumbled, as she buried her head in her hands. “I feel like a fool.” 

“Cam, don’t do that.” Shannon put a hand on Camila’s shoulder, before turning to Beatrice. “Long story made short, we’re missing ten million dollars.” 

 

“Oh, is that all?” Mary rolled her arms before crossing the room and unlocking a filing cabinet, which was full of weapons. “This is a declaration of war.” 

“Are we sure?” Beatrice didn’t disagree with the sentiment, but she wanted all the information before going into battle. 

“Pretty sure,” whispered Camila. “They made a mistake by not cutting the cameras earlier. I can see if I can ID our suspect. That should at least give us a clue what family he is from.” 

 

“This was our safest financial institution.” Lilith paced back and forth across the thick carpet. Her steps were soundless, her thoughts were not. “One of us needs to head down there and inventory what was taken. If it was dirty bills, this could get worse in a hurry.”

“I’ll go.” Camila rose from her chair. “And Lil, come with me. I have a good relationship with the owner… Though he might be a bit angry after this. I’d appreciate the back up.” 

“I doubt you’ll need it but I’ll never say no to accompanying you.” 

 

“Lilith, would it kill you to be that nice to the rest of us?” Mary asked as she picked out a weapon.

“Yes,” was all Lilith replied with. 

“Don’t bicker.” Shannon muttered. “Mary and I are going to take a lap of our other fronts. See if we can’t turn up any threats.” 

 

“I have a contact I might be able to tap for information.” Beatrice whispered, half to herself. She walked over to the cabinet to retrieve a weapon of her own, an unmarked 9mm that was easy to conceal. “Not sure. I’ll have to find him first.” 

“Communicate only when necessary.” Camila told everyone. “And use your encrypted phones.” 

“Will do.” Shannon moved towards the door. “Mary, let’s go.” 

 

Only a few minutes later, Beatrice found herself back in the car. No one had spared any goodbyes, despite the potential danger they were getting themselves into. Such was the nature of the work and she trusted the competence of her friends. Without that to fixate on, though, Beatrice’s thoughts flew back to Ava as she drove into the sketchier part of town. 

 

The first three dive bars were a bust, but the fourth offered Beatrice’s grey-haired salvation. Keeping her gaze focused firmly on the nasty floor, Beatrice crossed the room and stealthily unholstered her weapon. 

“Vincent. Nice to see you.” Beatrice pressed the barrel into his back, careful to angle her body to make it look like she was giving a hug to an old friend. The most difficult part was the proximity, he reeked of whiskey. 

 

“Beatrice.” Vincent was a professional. He wasn’t phased. “Long time no see.” 

“Do you mind stepping outside with me for a moment?” It wasn’t a question.

“Sure. What’s a shared, drunken cigarette between friends?” Casual, Vincent left a too-large bill beneath his half-empty glass, before leading Beatrice out of the bar's side door. In the dark and empty alleyway, Vincent turned to hit her. She’d been expecting this. 

 

Ducking, Beatrice heard Vincent’s hand smash into the wall. He was a better fighter when he was sober. Quickly, she kicked out his front leg before rising and throwing a fist into his jaw. Vincent fell backwards, hitting the brick before sliding to the ground. 

“I was willing to be peaceful.” Beatrice holstered her weapon, it was clear she wouldn’t need it. “But clearly you want to do this the hard way.” It was hard to believe they’d been friends once.

 

“What do you want?” 

“Information.” Crouching down to meet Vincent’s eyes, she spoke in a harsh whisper. “About the robbery.” 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” bit Vincent. Wrong answer. Beatrice punched him in the nose, breaking it with a satisfying crack. Blood ran down his face. 

 

“Try again.”

“What robbery?” The alcohol was probably blunting the pain, but Vincent could be a stubborn bastard sometimes. Beatrice grabbed him by the collar and lifted him from the dirty pavement. Frustrated, she pushed him against the wall, before throwing several strikes into her former confidant. A final elbow drove him to the ground once more. 

 

“One more chance.” Beatrice pulled out her gun. Her knuckles were bloody and starting to bruise but she felt nothing. 

“Fine, fine.” Vincent was a mess, though that was only partially Beatrice’s doing. “It’s Adriel. He is making moves… Big ones…” He paused, pained, pressing a hand to his ribcage. “Don’t know the details but… More to come.” 

 

“See?” Beatrice put away her weapon. “Was that so hard?” 

“Fuck you.” Vincent spit, as blood dripped down his chin. 

“No, fuck you. ” Beatrice rose to leave. “You’re so goddamn lucky I didn’t kill you for what you did to us… For what you did to me. ” 

“Don’t take the Lord’s name in vain.” 

 

“Don’t even start.” Beatrice turned. She’s almost forgotten that Vincent was a priest once. A priest. Beatrice had another stop to make tonight, before her adrenaline completely tapered off. “You are no man of God. You never were.” She walked away before he could reply, there was nothing worth hearing. Not from Vincent, not anymore, not ever. 

 

A few blocks away, a priest finished his final service of the day. In retreating to his back office, however, he was clearly surprised to find a young woman sitting in his chair. 

“Oh, you must have made -” 

“There is no mistake, my father.” Beatrice slowly set her pistol on the table, before rolling up her sleeves. She probably looked intimidating, knuckles broken and shirt stained with blood. Her smile was harsh and unfriendly. “Sit down.”

Chapter 2: Falling (Down the Stairs) For You

Summary:

Ava tells Beatrice the good news!

Notes:

i stayed up late to update this dumb ass shit (new gleecast record on hating the fic, we only on chapter TWO lmfao)

“Beatrice!” Ava shouted into the phone and Beatrice had to move her head away from the receiver. “Why am I having to reach you through Camila, huh?” Her voice was audible to Camila, who sat across from her. She only shrugged and Beatrice rolled her eyes.

“It’s been busy at work.” Not a lie. “An important client is having account issues.” More of a lie. “What’s wrong?” 

 

“Nothing’s wrong.” Ava sighed, a rush of static in Beatrice’s ear. “I was worried about my best friend, it’s been two days.” 

“That’s not that long…” Still, Beatrice felt guilty. Had it been anyone else, she wouldn’t have. “Sorry.” 

“No apologies. Do you want to come get a drink tonight? I have good news.” 

 

“I don’t know if -” Before Beatrice could finish, Camila yanked the phone away. 

“I’ll make sure she can come, Ava. Don’t worry.” Winking at Beatrice, Camila listened as Ava replied, before adding. “And I’ll make her change, too. She looks a little ratty right now… Yeah, I agree.” With a laugh, Camila hung up. 

 

“What the hell?” Beatrice was more than a little annoyed. “Have you forgotten about the mess we’re in?”
“No, but you’ve clearly forgotten how to eat, shower, and sleep!” Camila countered. “You’ve literally not left the office since Sunday.” 

“So?” 

 

“So, it’s literally Wednesday.” 

“I’m failing to see your point.” Beatrice frowned. 

“My point is that you are going to see Ava.” Camila smiled. “You need to get out for a little while.” 

“But the work -” 

 

“Nothing will fall apart tonight. And if it does, we can take care of it.” Camila reached out and grabbed Beatrice’s hand across the table, squeezing it gently. “You need to go see your girl.” 

“She’s not my girl, Camila.” Beatrice blushed slightly at the comment anyhow. “She’ll never be my girl, she’s getting married.” 

“I can hold out hope, can’t I?” Camila held up her hands in feigned ignorance. “Now go home and shower, you smell like depression.” 

 

Rolling her eyes, Beatrice headed out. The weather finally snapped cold, matching the season. Having not left the office since Sunday, Beatrice didn’t have a coat. She shivered as her car warmed up, and well into her drive home. A warm shower and a more suitable outfit helped her feel more human. Camila definitely had a point, though Beatrice was loath to admit it. A good night’s sleep would probably be great, too. 

 

But that would have to wait. Beatrice headed towards the bar Ava had picked, more nervous than she should be. Ava’s car was already in the parking lot, surprising since Ava was almost always late. Inhaling to calm her stupid nerves, Beatrice stepped out into the cold evening. Her breath hung heavy in the air. 

 

“Beatrice!” Ava greeted her with a hug the moment Beatrice reached the bar. “You came.” 

“I told you I would. Well, actually Camila did.” 

“And as usual, Camila hooks it up.” Ava laughed and sat back down. Beatrice followed suit. “I ordered your drink for you, hopefully that’s alright.” 

“Whiskey neat?” Beatrice took a sip of the amber liquid. “Top shelf. Very nice.” 

 

“We are celebrating my good news, remember!?” Ava was halfway through what looked like a screwdriver. She really liked orange juice. 

“Yes, but you still haven’t told me what the good news is.” 

“Oh, yeah!” Ava had to pause to laugh, and Beatrice sat still, completely in awe. “The church called. Apparently the priest changed his mind about marrying us.” 

 

“Oh!” Beatrice pretended to be surprised. It wasn’t easy. “Congratulations! Did he say what made him change his mind?” 

“Only vaguely, he said he had a conversation with his god.” Ava shook her head. “Whatever that means.” 

“Whatever that means…” Beatrice reached across the table to pat Ava on the shoulder. “Congratulations again, seriously.” 

 

“Thank you…” Ava’s eyes wandered lower and her expression fell. “What happened to your hand?” 

“I…” Beatrice looked down at her swollen and split knuckles, still not healed from the proclivities of a few nights prior. A gym injury would be the most believable, but Ava knew Beatrice had been trapped in the office. “I fell in the parking garage and tried to catch myself.” It was a weak excuse, but it was the best she could think of. Had Beatrice not been so sleep deprived she would have come up with something better… Or hid the injury entirely. 

 

“Let me see.” Ava reached for Beatrice’s hand. Reluctantly, Beatrice gave it to her. She didn’t have a believable reason to say no, Ava was a nurse after all. “Hmm…” Ava was exceedingly gentle, and her hands were soft around Beatrice’s. It was everything she could do to keep from combusting. “You said you fell?” 

“Yes.” Beatrice could hear the scepticism in Ava’s voice.  

 

“This is more in line with a boxer’s fracture than a single fall…” Ava continued to look over the injury. “And you only fell once?” 

“Down the stairs.” Beatrice rolled her eyes internally, then dug her lie deeper. “So my fist bounced down on a few of the steps… I was holding on to an important file, I didn’t want to let go.” 

 

“I see…” 

“It’s not a big deal.” Beatrice pulled her hand back, though she hated to break the contact with Ava. “The real bruising is on my ego.” 

“You’re not normally clumsy like that.” Ava met Beatrice’s gaze, more worried than sceptical. Beatrice hated to lie but she knew that she could do nothing else. “Is the rest of you okay?” 

 

“Just bruised. Fine, really.” 

“Okay…” Ava didn’t seem entirely convinced, but at least she dropped it. “And you got to come out tonight, which is more than fine.” 

“I feel bad about leaving everyone with the work.” Beatrice replied. This was not a lie.

“I’m sure you’ve more than made up for your share already, and will continue to do so. Also, it’s crazy that accounting can be so pressing and time sensitive like this.” 

 

“When people die, there’s no accounting for the amount of work that needs to be done.” Beatrice made a rare joke, if only to hear Ava laugh. She was not disappointed. 

“That’s good.” Ava pretended to wipe away a tear. “Is it an interesting case, at least?” 

“Not really. A contested will and a few competing trusts. Time sensitive and high value, but otherwise pretty boring.” 

 

“Speaking of boring…” Ava trailed off. “Actually, I hate to keep talking about myself, sorry. Nevermind.” 

“No, please.” Beatrice urged her on. “I would really appreciate the distraction.” 

“Sometimes with JC, it’s just… Boring.”

“Can you elaborate on that?” Beatrice tread carefully. Despite her incredibly repressed feelings for Ava, she never spoke ill of JC. It wasn’t her place.

 

“He is nice and kind.” Ava prefaced with the obvious. “And he treats me with respect.” 

“Okay…”

“I don’t know, maybe I’m just having pre-wedding jitters. Apparently that’s normal…” She shook her head, then continued. “But I think this started before he proposed, actually. He’s so nice that it took me a long time to realise something is missing, but… It’s missing, Beatrice. And I don’t know what to fucking do.” Her emotion became evident all at once. 

 

“Do you still love him?” Beatrice asked a single question, one she thought was simple. Ava’s hesitation made it seem less straightforward. After a minute of tense silence, she finally replied. 

“I think so?” Ava put her face in her hands. “I have nothing to complain about. Every morning I wake up to a fresh cup of coffee. When I work a double he brings me lunch, and every sunday he does all of my laundry. He’s handsome, he makes me dinner nearly every night… I don’t have to ask for anything.” 

 

Internally, Beatrice was screaming. She wanted to shout, more pressingly, she wanted to tell Ava that she too could do all this. And more.

“Him doing things for you isn’t love, though. Not necessarily.” Beatrice had no clue where this advice was coming from. It wasn’t as if she’d ever been in a serious relationship before. “It’s more than this… It’s not just… It’s not just that.” 

 

“What is it?” Despite the clear lack of authority on the topic, Ava was desperate for advice. Beatrice was forced to speak from emotions that were better left buried within.

“There has to be that… Spark.” Beatrice closed her eyes for a moment and tried to pretend that she wasn’t just thinking about Ava. “Do you miss him even if he’s only gone for an hour? Do you want to know every boring detail about his day, just because it’s him? Does everything just seem a little brighter when you’re together? More vibrant?” She could have gone on all day, but decided to stop. 

 

“I wish I could say yes…” Ava shook her head. “Sorry. I’m just being weird. It’s normal in the face of a wedding, at least I’ve heard.”

“You don’t need to apologise.” Beatrice whispered, though she wanted to scream. She didn’t think Ava was ‘just being weird.’

“We’ve set a tentative wedding date for February,” continued Ava. Her excitement was non-existent. 

 

“Oh?” 

“It’ll be small. Hopefully quick.” Ava paused, more nervous now. Beatrice didn’t understand why. “I’d like you to be in it, as well.” Beatrice almost choked on her drink. “Don’t look so shocked, you’re my best friend!” Ava’s mirth returned in an instant. 

“I’m not surprised, just… Actually, I am surprised.” For some reason, it was hard for Beatrice to believe that Ava saw her as a best friend in return. Nothing more, of course, but still. Having spent most of her life alone, Beatrice was happy for a friend. 

 

“Why?” 

“I don’t know.” Beatrice could tell Ava wasn’t going to take that as an answer. “I’ve spent most of my life without a single friend. Now I have you, and everyone…” Had she been less exhausted, she probably wouldn’t have been so emotional. But between this, and the conversation about JC, Beatrice felt her eyes watering. She quickly brushed the tears away. 

 

“Just promise not to fall down the stairs during the ceremony, okay?” Ava added with a comforting smile. 

“No promises.” Beatrice shoved away the last of her tears and chastised herself for being such a crybaby. Still, Ava made her smile, which was appreciated. She also waved down the bartender for another round, which was doubly appreciated. 

 

“Anyway, sorry to dump all that on you.” Ava concluded after taking a sip of her second drink. “I’m sure I’m just having weird cold feet with JC. Besides, he treats me so well that even if it’s not perfect, it’s still pretty damn good. I could definitely do a lot worse, and honestly, I’m not sure I could do better.” 

“That’s a reductive way to look at it…” 

 

“How so?” 

“I just think you’re reducing down passion into more logical blocks that make it easier for you to deal with. Love can’t be reduced like that.” Again, Beatrice spoke from the experience she repressed. “And also, I think you could do much better. You’re beautiful and smart, and you’re a good person, Ava. You shouldn’t settle regardless.” 

 

“I’m not settling…” Ava crossed her arms and leaned back in her seat. It seemed more like she was trying to convince herself. Beatrice stayed silent. “You seem to know a lot about love all of a sudden.” 

“Look, I’m not claiming to be an expert. I just don’t want to see you end up in a situation you regret. I’ve seen you put off difficult decisions before because you were too afraid of hurting someone’s feelings.” 

 

“Ouch.” Ava wore a sad smile. “I mean, you’re not wrong, but ouch.” 

“Sorry.” 

“No, don’t apologise.” Her expression became unreadable and Beatrice was concerned for the mental state of her friend. “You’ve just given me a lot to think about.” 

 

Of course, Ava unknowingly gave Beatrice a lot to think about too. All this talk of love was going to force her to stop ignoring some of the emotions Beatrice had been deferring for months. Okay, years. Worse still, Beatrice was so uncharacteristically wrapped up in her thoughts that she didn’t notice the man watching her at the bar, or tailing her home… A dangerous mistake.

Notes:

as per usual did not proofread this

beyblades let em rip

Chapter 3: Elevated

Summary:

Beatrice has an interesting elevator ride. A plan emerges.

Notes:

im going to delete the fucking hockey fic watch me

Beatrice was almost a perfect criminal. Almost. She fought exceptionally well, had great aim with a variety of firearms, and was absolutely brilliant. Her only downfall was how hard she pushed herself in pursuit of said perfection. After spending nearly three days in the office with minimal sleep and maximal stress, Beatrice wasn’t at her best. Thus, she didn’t notice the man who tailed her home, to her expensive apartment on the far edge of the city. 

 

Normally, she would have been more careful. Normally, she would have taken a more roundabout route. Normally she was better. To make matters worse, the conversation with Ava was immensely distracting, and ran through Beatrice’s head over and over again and she crossed the lobby of her building.

 

She stepped into the elevator alone, but a hand caught it at the last second. Beatrice looked up, and the man who stepped in smiled at her. Not recognising him, she thought he was simply a resident trying to catch the elevator - since she didn’t notice him tailing her earlier. The doors slid closed. Only then did Beatrice realise her mistake. 

 

As soon as the door slid shut, the man kicked his leg out, catching Beatrice off guard. She fell against the wall, cracking the mirror with her head. Frustrated with both the pain and her own incompetence to recognise the threat, she fought back with a vengeance. Wrapping her hands around the railing, she hopped off the ground and threw both legs out, a powerful kick into the man’s chest. His ribs cracked, audible in the confined space. 

 

He stumbled back and Beatrice capitalised on the opportunity. It would be dangerous to shoot him in the elevator, so she’d have to improvise. She also didn’t want to leave a dead body, that was far too risky. Ducking under his punch, she swept his legs and knocked him to the ground. Before the man could react, she threw a quick strike across his face, knocking him out. 

 

The elevator dinged. Thankfully, the doors slid open to reveal an empty hallway. Beatrice quickly checked the man’s pockets, but they were empty of any ID. Professional. Leaving him unconscious in the elevator, she hurried to her apartment. She needed to warn everyone, just in case. She also needed to be out of here as soon as possible, before her attacker woke up… Or more of them showed up. 

 

Luckily, Beatrice was nothing if not cautious. She always kept at least one bag packed, ready to go at a moment’s notice. Retrieving said bag, and a few weapons, she ran back to the hallway. Not fast enough, her attacker was already making his way towards her. 

“Fuck.” Beatrice turned and ran. Not because she was scared, but because this was not the place to kill a man. She had to either lose him or lure him somewhere more private.

 

The building alarm went off as she pushed open the emergency exit. Soon the hallways and stairwells would be swarming with people. That should provide some cover. She jumped down half a flight of stairs, then vaulted over the next railing to try and put some distance between her and the man. 

 

A few seconds later, the first of the building's residents began entering the stairwell, just as anticipated. Beatrice was forced to move at a more normal pace, but she had cover now. Hurrying as much as she still could, she made it back to the parking garage. No sign of him. Almost disappointed, she decided to take the win and leave. She sped out onto the main road and then called Camila. 

 

“Hello?” Camila’s voice echoed in the cabin of Beatrice’s car. “Are you driving?” 

“Yes.” Beatrice gritted her teeth and accelerated. Maybe the exhaustion was making her paranoid, or maybe she was the right amount of cautious. Either way, she drove evasively. Just in case. “Where are you right now?” 

“At the office, why?” Camila’s worry was audible. “Is something wrong?” 

 

“I just got attacked at my building.” Beatrice spoke with surprising calm given what had just happened. “And I don’t know how big this is. Hell…” She was frustrated with herself and the guilt tasted sour in her mouth. The road ahead blurred slightly. “We don’t know anything.” 

“Fuck.” Camila exhaled. “Meet at Mary’s. We’ll be there soon.” She hung up before Beatrice could reply. 

 

A few years ago, Shannon and Mary bought a house outside the city. It made their commute longer, but it also acted as a safehouse for occasions such as this. Of course, they’d never needed to use it before today. All Beatrice could do was hope that their enemy hadn’t found this address in their research. Camila had done everything possible to hide the true owners, but sometimes, everything isn't enough. 

 

Beatrice’s car was the first through the gate and into the driveway. While she had a key and an alarm code, she elected to sit outside. The adrenaline had worn off, leaving her feeling shaky and sweaty - the cool air felt nice. More nervous than she cared to admit, Beatrice sat on the front step with her gun at the ready. Luckily, she didn’t have to wait long. 

 

Mary and Shannon rolled in first, in the heavily customised SUV that Mary had spent a fortune on. It was bulletproof, though, and its supercharged engine was a thing of beauty. 

“You good?” Mary asked as she stepped out. “You look like shit.” 

“Nice to see you too.” Beatrice rose. Meanwhile, Camila and Lilith pulled into the driveway, driving another small fortune on wheels. 

 

“Did you recognise him?” Lilith didn’t bother with any pleasantries as she climbed out of her car. “And if not, did he have any ID? Any tattoos? Scars?” 

“No.” Beatrice shook her head. “Sorry, I -” 

“Don’t apologise,” interrupted Shannon. “Let’s just head inside and get to the bottom of this. We’re still ten million short and we’re no closer to locating Adriel.” 

 

“Unfortunately.” Beatrice whispered as she followed Shannon inside. To say she was in a bad mood would be a massive understatement. 

“Um, Bea?” Camila spoke from behind her. “Is your head okay?” As Camila asked, Beatrice felt Camila’s hand on the back of her neck.

“What?” Beatrice turned, confused. Camila held up her hand, which was bloody. 

 

“You’re bleeding.” Camila’s expression was unreadable and Beatrice felt embarrassed. “All down through your hair and neck and into your shirt.” 

“Oh, yeah.” Mary caught Beatrice’s shoulder and turned her around. “Jesus Christ.” 

“I didn’t feel it,” whispered Beatrice. “Must have been from the mirror…” 

“The mirror?” Lilith was understandably confused. 

 

“We fought in the elevator.” Beatrice pulled off her sweater and walked into the dining room. Camila was right, the entire back collar was soaked with blood. She felt nothing. Laying her gun on the table, Beatrice turned to face her friends. Family, really. “But that doesn’t matter. We have been hit twice now. Unknowingly. Something is up and if we don’t figure this out quickly, we’ll probably end up dead.” 

 

“I agree.” Lilith sat down by the window, which was also bulletproof. Mary really loved bulletproof glass. “Even if you are looking a little crazy right now.” 

“Lilith…” Camila shot Lilith a warning look. 

“Beatrice is right.” Mary crossed her arms, clearly and rightfully pissed. “Whatever game Adriel is playing ends now.” 

 

“Except for the fact that we have no way to end it.” Beatrice ground her teeth together in frustration. “We’ve looked over every goddamn piece of evidence, followed every money trail… His men must be new, none of them have records.” She began to pace in frustration. Beatrice blamed herself and the room spun around her but she tried to ignore the feeling. “We need a break somewhere because we are quickly running out of options.” Despite everything else going on, Beatrice thought of Ava and her voice cracked on that last word. She wasn’t quite ready to die yet.

 

Silently, Camila took Beatrice by the shoulders and forcibly sat her down in a chair. Then she stepped into the kitchen for one of the dozen first aid kits that Mary had scattered around the house. 

“I have an idea.” Shannon spoke slowly, she was clearly still thinking. Meanwhile, Camila returned and began cleaning the blood from Beatrice’s neck.

 

“Well?” Mary looked expectantly at her wife. “What’s your idea?” 

“It’s not very elegant, I’ll admit. But maybe we can use these brazen attacks to our advantage.” 

“Oh!” Beatrice had a realisation, flinching as she did so. The movement hurt and she wasn’t sure why. “Ow.” 

“Stay still.” Camila muttered. “You have shards of glass in your head.” 

 

“Hm.” Unphased by that, Beatrice continued. “We take one alive and interrogate him for information. Perfect.” 

“Good opportunity to use that warehouse we’ve been paying rent on,” commented Lilith.

“I have been using it.” Mary argued. 

“I meant that we could use it for real work instead of motorcycle storage.” 

“Fair point.” 

 

“This will need to be a smooth operation.” Shannon took the lead, as she so often did. It was welcome. Without her, the group would probably fracture. “We’ve already been caught out twice, so we’ll need to be exceptionally careful. That being said, ten million is a lot to answer for. And hear me, I do intend to make them answer.”

“Hot,” breathed Mary. Lilith rolled her eyes. Camila continued to pick glass out of Beatrice’s skin. Fun all around. 

 

Later that night, Beatrice laid restless in one of several spare rooms. She stared out the window, at the distant light of the city. On the nightstand, her phone vibrated against the wood. Slightly startled after the day it had been, Beatrice reached for it. Upon unlocking the device, Beatrice smiled. The text was from Ava. 

 

Ava: thanks for listening earlier. i appreciate it. i feel like youre the only person i can really talk to. [sent 12:01am]

Beatrice: What about JC? Camila? [sent 12:02am]

Ava: not the same. also you better not still be at work. [sent 12:03am]

Beatrice: Something came up after I left the bar. [sent 12:04am]

 

Ava didn’t text back, no, she called. Beatrice stared at the contact photo that Ava had set months ago, a selfie she’d taken during a group trip to the beach. There was sand all over her face, but she still looked beautiful… If not slightly sunburnt. 

“Hi, Ava.” Beatrice picked up the phone. Immediately she was smiling, thankful that no one could see her in the dark. 

 

“What could have possibly been so urgent that you needed to go back to work?” No hellos, then. Got it. 

“Same case. The contested will.” Beatrice sighed. Normally she didn’t mind lying, it was a large part of her life as a criminal. But lying to Ava was awful and it never got easier. 

“It’s really hard for me to see how that’s late night urgent.” 

 

“Sometimes… Sometimes it is for me too.” And yes, had Beatrice been an accountant, she probably would have agreed. But it wasn’t as if she could tell Ava she’d been attacked. 

“You know there are other jobs out there, right?” Ava’s voice had a tired rasp that made Beatrice’s heart pound. “You don’t have to do this.” 

“You know there are other fiancés out there, right?” Beatrice spoke without thinking, a rarity. Even rarer, she twisted the knife. “You don’t have to marry him.” 

 

For several seconds, Ava was silent. Beatrice looked at her phone twice, to make sure Ava hadn’t hung up. She considered apologising, but didn’t. As out of line as she had been, Beatrice was right. 

“I know.” Ava eventually replied in a whisper. “I know.” She repeated. 

“I don’t mean to… I don’t know…” Beatrice pinched the bridge of her nose and tried not to cry. These late night calls with Ava always made her feel like she was coming undone. In her weaker moments, she imagined having them side by side in the same bed. Wishful thinking. “I don’t mean to hurt your feelings.” 

 

“I know, Bea, I know.” Ava laughed here, though it sounded sad. “To be honest with you, I’m scared.” Her voice shook and Beatrice’s guilt multiplied by a thousand. At the same time, she felt honoured to be the person Ava trusted with this. “I’m scared to be alone. I’m scared that I’ll never find anyone… He is good to me in a way no one ever has been. How can I give that up?” It was clear that Ava was crying. Beatrice felt awful. 

 

“You’re not alone, Ava.” Beatrice paused to bite the heel of her hand in silent, painful emotion. “You’ll never be alone.” 

“But -” 

“No buts.” Beatrice was adamant about that. “I don’t want to see you get stuck in a marriage you’re not fully committed to just because you think you’ll never find anyone else.” Her passion was closer to home than Ava realised. 

 

“It’s kind of you to say that.” 

“Yes, well, I’m not trying to be kind.” Beatrice took a deep breath. Because who knows? She might get killed tomorrow. “I know you fear being alone, and that’s more than fair. But I promise you, Ava, by the time you’re old you’ll be able to fill a library with the names of everyone who’s loved you.” What Beatrice neglected to add was that she’d fill that library herself if she had to. 

 

“You are too good to me, Beatrice.” Ava was clearly still crying. “I’m sorry to have called so late. I know you’ve been working nonstop and barely sleeping, I just… I needed someone to talk to.” 

“You don’t need to apologise. Seriously.” 

“Goodnight, Beatrice.” 

“Goodnight.” 

 

Beatrice set the phone aside. It took her a few tries to manage a deep breath. Every day it seemed she was walking closer to the line with Ava, but luckily she was as clueless about Beatrice’s crush as she was about Beatrice’s mafia ties. Probably for the best, right?

Chapter 4: Breaking Point

Summary:

Some progress is made in finding Adriel. Beatrice gets dinner with Ava.

Notes:

idk if anyone was watching football tonight but holy shit... hopefully hamlin is alright.

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]

Notes:

didnt proof sorry if bad

Chapter 5: The Hostage, My Distraction

Summary:

Beatrice handles their hostage because she is desperate for any distraction. She needs to stop thinking about a certain someone.

Notes:

okay. something surprising. i dont hate this fic? shocking. truly.

also i didnt proofread this as per usual lol

“I don’t think we should kill him.” Beatrice paced across the warehouse floor. It was after ten now. Despite the threat of Adriel’s retribution hanging over them, she was still half-focused on Ava. Distraction was never good, but now, with such high stakes? Well, it could be deadly. She took a deep breath and continued. “Hiding the body will be difficult. There is a ton of DNA.”

“If he walks away, Adriel will be coming for our throats.” Mary countered, with a frustrated expression. 

 

“Isn’t he already?” Beatrice’s voice broke. Her stress was obvious. “Ten million dollars missing and at least one hit taken out. The threat is already knocking on the door. We need to tread carefully.” 

“He did give up the information eventually.” Camila was the calmest of the group. “His phone alone was a goldmine. It feels like we’re not keeping up our end of the bargain if we kill him after he finally cooperated.” 

 

“Cooperated feels like a strong word.” Shannon’s gaze was firmly fixed on their unconscious prisoner. “We basically just beat the answers out of him… And took his thumb.” 

“A truly made man wouldn’t have broken.” Lilith spoke softly, but Beatrice had known her long enough to recognise the emotion in her quiet words. “There’s a reason why Adriel’s men are nearly untraceable, a reason that I think might be his undoing.” 

 

“Still, no one has given me a convincing reason to keep him alive.” Mary was a bit brutal, yes, but she did have a point. His survival could damn them all. Even in cold blood, though, killing was difficult. 

“I have an idea.” Camila’s sudden smile was, as usual, a rare kindness during a stressful night. 

“Do tell.” Shannon’s gaze was fixated on their resident curly-haired genius. 

 

“We have several dirty cops on the force.” Camila launched into an explanation and Beatrice already knew where she was going with this. “If I start now I can have a full dossier of evidence built against him by morning. He’ll presumably be sent to the feds before anyone from his crew is able to get any info.”

“I don’t like this ‘presumably.’” Mary crossed her arms. “And relying on the cops to do our dirty work is… Shaky.” 

 

“Lilith has a good point.” Continuing to pace, Beatrice reasoned through their options. “A truly made man wouldn’t have broken like this. Is there any chance we can intimidate him into just walking away from this life? It’s not for the faint of heart.”

“It’s possible, anything’s possible. ” Shannon replied. “But I’d hate to see us get fucked over again because he decides to come limping back into the fold.” 

 

“We’ve killed before and we’ll undoubtedly kill again. I think we’re making this into a bigger argument than it needs to be.” Mary was nothing if not resolute. Beatrice didn’t blame her. 

“A single mistake and we’ll have the cops at our doors.” Lilith argued. “Bribes aside, we’re on thin ice as it is. Every syndicate in the city is.” 

“Enough of this.” Beatrice shook her head. “Give me four hours. I’ll take care of this. No deaths.” 

 

“What are you -” 

“Don’t ask.” Beatrice interrupted Shannon’s question. “Camila I’ll need your help for… Half an hour. Everyone else head home. It’s been a long night.”

“Beatrice, this seems rash.” Mary’s concern was poorly disguised. “You really want us to just leave you with this? Alone?” 

“Not rash. It’s just better this way. Easier.” Beatrice muttered. She was lying though, it was rash. At least for her. But after everything Ava said, she desperately needed a distraction. “But yes, please leave.” 

 

“Are you sure?” Lilith wore a surprisingly neutral expression, though Beatrice suspected it was only a mask. 

“Yes. I trust your evaluation.” Beatrice turned towards the office. “Goodnight, everyone.” 

“You really expect us to just walk away?” Shannon was not having it. “I mean, seriously? How is it fair for us to leave you here alone with him?” 

 

“It’s not like the decision is being made without my input, or being forced upon me.” Beatrice worked hard to stay calm. “I am telling all of you that I will take care of it. I need the distraction, we all need sleep. If you are so hellbent on helping, head out and create an alibi.”

“You’re really alright with this?” Camila quietly asked. 

“Yes.” Surprisingly, no one fought beyond that. Everyone was exhausted after several days of insane stress. They also knew better than to fight with a stubborn Beatrice. Only Camila followed Beatrice into the small room. 

 

“What is it that you need from me?” Camila asked, surprisingly mission oriented. 

“A fake ID. Papers.” Beatrice turned on the printer. “For our man of the hour.” 

“So you’re not going to kill him, then?” Already, Camila’s hands were flying over the keyboard. Still, concern was written plainly across her face. 

“Not unless he gives me a reason to, no.” Beatrice sat down. She felt like a rubber band, stretched out and moments from snapping. 

 

“Are you okay?” Camila finally asked the predictable question, working all the while. 

“Yes.” 

“You’re lying.” Beside them, the printer whirred, a speciality device for forging official documents. “I’m not Ava,” added Camila in a whisper. “Tell me the truth.” 

“She’s going to break up with JC.” 

 

“Really?” The surprise on Camila’s face seemed forced. 

“Yes.” 

“I imagine that gives you a lot to think about.” Camila looked as if she was trying to keep from smiling. “Is that why you’re acting all weird?” 

“It’s definitely a contributing factor, I won’t lie.” Leaning back in her chair, Beatrice rested her head against the wall. 

 

“I can see why you’re willing to do this, now.” Camila plucked the documents from the printer. “Here.” She handed the packet to Beatrice. “I still need to do the ID.” 

“Thanks.” Beatrice shoved everything into a folder. As usual, Camila’s work was perfect. It only took another fifteen minutes to finish the documentation. After a quick hug, Beatrice was shockingly alone. 

 

It was colder now. In the warehouse she could see her breath. Thankfully, Mary was storing not only motorcycles here, but also several project cars. Beatrice retrieved the key for the least showy model, a grey Camry with a completely swapped engine. Unremarkable on the outside, tuned sports car under the hood. Perfect. 

 

Quickly, she cleaned the blood from their captives face, just as he began to stir. Then, with ease, Beatrice carried him to the passenger’s seat of the car. She buckled his seatbelt. Safety first. In the trunk she packed a few items, namely the falsified papers, several thousand dollars cash, and a few extra guns. It never hurts to have an insurance policy. 

 

Only once they were on the road did her captive speak. “You’re driving me out to the middle of nowhere to kill me, aren’t you?” His voice was calm, calmer than Beatrice expected it to be.

“No.” She answered honestly because she had no reason not to. The conversation was also a weak distraction from her thoughts of Ava, which were seemingly never silenced. 

“Are you lying?” 

“No.” 

 

And then he was silent again. So much for the distraction. Beatrice resisted the urge to sigh and instead focused on the road. They were well outside the city now and the road was an empty stretch of black against a grey night. It was difficult to not fall asleep. Luckily, Beatrice’s anguish kept her awake. 

 

Ava was going to talk to JC. Most likely, this meant they’d break up, right? Most pressingly, Beatrice felt awful for Ava. She was going to feel so guilty, and regardless of her romantic relationship, she was friends with JC and this was going to gut him. He loved her endlessly, even if the emotion wasn’t reciprocated. If anyone knew how that felt, it was Beatrice. 

 

Did this breakup mean that Beatrice might one day have a chance? Probably not. Beatrice tried not to entertain the thought at all, but the heart wants what it wants. She ground her teeth together in trying to fight it. Ava didn’t even like women. Plus, Beatrice didn’t want Ava to think that she was only maintaining a friendship for romantic reasons. That was far from the truth, Beatrice genuinely enjoyed being friends with Ava - even if that was all they ever were. 

 

Honestly, Ava would probably never make such an assumption anyhow, she was far too kind. But Beatrice was meaner, especially to herself. Thus, she ran through every terrible thought, every wildly unlikely scenario and insult. If nothing else, it helped her stop daydreaming about a ‘something more’ with Ava. It could never happen. 

 

Eventually the sun rose, a genuinely stunning mess of colour, even more shocking after a moonless, starless night. Beatrice felt lucky to see it, she felt as if she’d made it out the other side, surviving the worst of her emotions. 

“I’m happy to see one last sunrise before I die,” whispered the man beside her. Beatrice had been so distracted she’d almost forgotten he was there. He had been silent for almost the entire drive. 

 

“I already told you, I’m not going to kill you.” She let some frustration bleed into her voice. “You’re not that tough for a criminal, either.” 

“I’m not a criminal.”

“So you just collaborate with the mafia as a hobby?” 

“Adriel is a terrible man.” The emotion on his face seemed surprisingly genuine, but Beatrice retained her scepticism. “He blackmails ‘clean’ men into helping him. Says it makes them harder to track.” 

 

“It does.” Beatrice nodded. She considered asking what was worthy of said blackmail, but she decided not to. She didn’t want to know. Instead, she pulled over, a few miles past the state line. From the trunk, she retrieved everything she’d packed - before opening the door for her unfortunate passenger. 

 

“Here.” She cut the zip ties on his hands and ankles. He made no move to run, which she appreciated. Beatrice really didn’t want to hurt him. “In this bag are fake papers, and some money to get you started. If you come back, you’ll be a marked man.” She pulled out her gun and pressed it to his neck. It was unloaded, and the safety was on, but he was scared all the same. This was the only clue she needed. “And if we don’t kill you, Adriel will. You’ve given up his secrets.”

 

He swallowed, nervous. Beatrice pulled the gun away.

“There’s a town a mile ahead. Good luck.” Only then did he run, which Beatrice appreciated. She couldn’t bear to look at his sad face a moment longer. He shouldn’t have gotten mixed up in all of this in the first place. This business was no place for an amateur, even if Adriel was trying to make it one. 

 

As the day grew brighter, Beatrice watched him run into the distance, until his silhouette was no longer visible in the distance. She leaned her head back and fought the urge to cry. Exhaustion was creeping up on her and this hadn’t been quite the distraction that she hoped. With slightly shaky hands, she texted everyone, to let them know the deed was done. Hopefully they’d all gotten some much needed rest. They would need it before their strike against Adriel.

 

After some deliberation, Beatrice also texted Ava. It took several minutes to craft a message, even one as simple as the one she was sending. Good luck. I hope it goes as well as is realistic. But it had to be perfect. Supportive, but not too supportive. And not too detailed, in case JC saw it. Her worries compounded against each other once more, a mess of worries that refused to sort themselves out. 

 

Frustrated, Beatrice pulled back out onto the road. She still had to dump this car and then get home. All she could think about was a night of sleep. Someone else was clearly thinking about Beatrice’s lack of sleep, as her phone rang a few minutes later. 

“Good morning, Ava.” Beatrice answered with as much calm as she could muster. 

“Hi. Hello. It’s early. Did you get any sleep last night?” Ava's concern was obvious. Touching. It made Beatrice feel cared for in a way she didn’t entirely understand. 

 

“I’m driving home now. Then sleep, yes.” She didn’t specify where she was driving home from, but this wasn’t, technically, a lie. 

“Beatrice! This isn’t good for you!” Ava wasn’t wrong. “No job is worth it. I don’t care how much you get paid.” 

“Yes, you’ve mentioned it once or twice.” 

“Do you not agree?” 

 

“It’s not as simple as agreeing or disagreeing.” Beatrice smiled, despite everything. Ava had a way of bringing that out in Beatrice. “It’s complicated.” 

“It’s complicated,” mocked Ava. “You could get a different job. Actually, do you even need to work?” 

“I…” She thought of the missing millions, yet to be recovered from Adriel’s syndicate. “Yes. For now.” A retirement with Ava was an impossibility, but it was one of the few things that might convince Beatrice to walk away. 

 

“I see…” Ava’s frustration was evident in her voice. 

“I’m sure you do. And as much as I’d like to delve into my career options, I need to know. Did you talk to him yet?” 

“No.” Ava’s tension was immediately obvious, even over the phone. “Tonight. Hopefully. I’m terrified, Beatrice.” 

 

“I can imagine.” Beatrice’s sympathy for Ava was nearly painful. “You’re a kind person. And even though this is something that needs to happen, it’s going to hurt. You still care, Ava, even if it’s not in the way he wants.”

“He is going to cry. And I’ll cry and -” She stopped, likely crying. Beatrice’s heart ached. “Just… A lot of crying.” 

 

“Is there anything I can do to help?” Beatrice wanted to be supportive. She desperately wanted to help, even if she wasn’t entirely sure how to. The sleep deprivation definitely wasn’t helping, either. Hell, just staying in the right lane was challenging right now. 

“Just…” There was a long pause. “Can you be on call? For me, instead of for work?” 

“Of course.” There was nothing, nothing, that could have compelled Beatrice to answer otherwise. 

 

“Thank you.” Ava’s relief was audible. “Seriously, thank you. I don’t know how I would get through this without you.” 

“It’s not a big deal, really.” Beatrice smiled again. It felt almost alien after the night she’d had. “And I’m sure you’d be okay.” 

“I’m not.” A laugh. “Are you almost home?” 

 

“Yes.” It was the first lie of the conversation and it was sour like all the others. 

“Good. Thank you for answering.” 

“Of course.” 

“Alright, get that sleep. Good morning… Good night?” Ava laughed once more, surprisingly light given what was coming. 

“Good morning.” 

 

The call ended. Beatrice drove away from the sunset, fighting to stay focused on driving. This was not the distraction she’d hoped it would be. And, as usual, the call with Ava further muddied her feelings. It was going to be a long drive.

Chapter 6: Distraction

Summary:

Ava is a distraction, even if she doesn't know it yet.

Notes:

i didnt proofread this so if u r gonna give me shit i dont wanna HEAR IT

Ava: he texted to say he is going out with friends after work. guess i have to wait another day… not sure if thats good or bad…? [sent: 3:22pm]

Beatrice: At the very least it gives you more time to think about what you are going to say? I’m not sure if that helps. [sent: 3:24pm]

Ava: i wrote some notes. but i just want to rip the band aid off. the waiting is killing me! [sent: 3:30pm]

Beatrice: I can only imagine. I’m sorry. [sent: 3:31pm]

Ava: dont apologise, none of this is your fault. [sent: 3:33pm]

Ava: its mine. [sent 3:33pm]

Beatrice: I’m not sure I agree with it. Some things don’t have a ‘fault.’ It sucks, yes, it’s terrible and I feel bad for you both. But I would be cautious about assigning fault. [sent: 3:39pm]

Ava: you sound like cam [sent 3:40pm]

Beatrice: Camila is smart about these things. You should probably listen to her. [sent: 3:43pm]

Ava: yes, but i prefer you. [sent: 3:44pm]

 

Exhaling sharply beneath the weight of that message, Beatrice slid her phone back into her pocket. She felt significantly more human after several hours of sleep, but her emotions were still completely tattered. Thankfully, Camila provided a needed distraction, to which Beatrice resumed paying attention. This sort of mind wandering wasn’t common for Beatrice, but it did provide fuel for her fire of harsh self-criticism. 

 

“Their main laundering facility is here.” Camila pointed to the massive screen that was mounted on the conference room wall. “Adriel used to launder through real estate mostly, but his operation grew too large, so this casino is now their main hub.” 

“Do we know for sure our money is there?” Mary sat on the edge of her seat. It was clear she was ready for action… And sick of planning.

 

“We don’t know anything for sure. ” Lilith chimed in. She was leaning back in her chair, but Beatrice could tell that Lilith wasn’t as calm as she appeared. “Not in this line of work.” 

“There is a well-guarded vault in a private lounge, behind the high roller’s room.” With the click of a button, Camila pulled up the floor plan. “The back door only opens from the inside, but it opens right out to the parking lot.” 

 

“Perfect.” Mary’s smile spoke for itself. “Time to dust off the Urus.” 

“When are we going?” Beatrice asked, once again thinking of Ava. “And there’s another advantage that Adriel has inadvertently given us.” 

“Ideally tonight.” Shannon was the first to answer. “And what is it?” 

“His rapid expansion and penchant for new hires reduces the chances of anyone recognising us. That alone makes our infiltration much easier.” 

 

“Very true.” Lilith looked up at the screen with a smile. She loved this - they all did. “If we’re really going to go tonight, we need to get planning… Yesterday.” 

“I would have liked more time to prepare.” Camila clicked to the next slide, another diagram. “But the longer we wait, the more risky it is. We don’t know how close Adriel was keeping tabs on his men.” 

 

“There is a set of silenced pistols in the safe, small and concealable, no serial numbers. This is the perfect occasion to bring them out.” Mary was already unlocking the gun safe before she finished her sentence. 

“But it goes without saying that we should try to avoid violence if possible.” Shannon added with a smirk in Mary’s direction. “Ideally, we get in quietly, get out quietly. With our money. ” 

 

“Cam, do you need help drawing up the plans?” Beatrice asked quietly. She wanted this over quickly. Safely.

“Yes.” She typed a few quick commands into her computer. “I just sent you a list of personnel, potential new blackmail targets that Adriel’s hired. We need to cross check that against the casino staff. I don’t want any surprises.” 

 

With a nod, Beatrice headed back to her desk. She was happy for the distraction. Plus, good planning now would hopefully free up some time for Ava. Okay, so maybe this wasn’t the best distraction. And free time? Who was Beatrice kidding? There would be another job after this, then another, then another Adriel was striking out and expanding his territory - and they needed to make sure he didn’t.

 

The night came too quickly. Beatrice changed in her office, slipping into an insanely expensive tailored suit. She would have preferred a dress, but concealing weapons beneath the scant fabric of her favourite Valentino was more difficult than she had time for. So, the patterned, slim cut suit would have to do. 

 

She checked her phone again before slipping it into her pocket. There were no new messages from Ava. Sighing as she loaded her pistol, Beatrice couldn’t help but worry. Normally, she loved the big jobs like this, the thrill, the triumph… Hell, even the fighting scratched a certain itch. But right now, all she wanted was to be there for Ava. Beatrice was breaking a promise, Ava asked her to be on call. 

 

And it wasn’t a promise Beatrice took lightly. Unfortunately, she also didn’t take loss of life lightly. Adriel was gunning for them and she would be no help to Ava if she got killed. Still, it was little comfort. Endlessly frustrated with the situation, Beatrice untied her hair and shook it out, before fastening a silver cufflink to each sleeve. Appearance was important.

 

Back in the main office area, everyone was as well dressed as she was. They all looked beautiful. To the untrained eye, no one would ever suspect them of criminal activity - which was perfect, really. Being a woman has its perks sometimes. 

“Ready?” Mary held a Lamborghini key in her hands, excitement poorly contained. Beatrice took a deep breath and straightened her collar. She couldn’t be distracted tonight. 

“Yes. Let’s go.” 

 

The hum of the car was intoxicating. Mary wove through traffic with minimal effort, putting that expensive engine to use. No one spoke on the drive, everyone was laser focused on the objective. Except for Beatrice, who couldn’t help but keep a protective hand on her phone. Just in case. As disciplined as she was, nothing she did could fully push away the thoughts of Ava. 

 

Arriving at the casino was a welcome release. Now was the time to execute. Mary dropped everyone off at the front door, before pulling away towards the back lot, specifically the one that backed up to the hidden room. With an operation this tight, they didn’t have time to retrace their steps through the lot, or deal with valet. Unfortunately, it meant they were headed into the dragon’s lair with only four people. Four extremely talented people, sure, but bullets don’t discriminate. 

 

There was no security checkpoint at the entrance, only guards. They stood statuesque at key points, with black suits and clear earpieces. Maybe they pulled aside shady characters for some type of screening, but the women attracted no attention. Well, they did, but of a different variety. Beatrice put on a false confidence, going as far as to run a hand through her hair. It was rarely down, she normally kept it tightly pinned back. Ava liked it down. 

 

Damn it! Beatrice internally chastised herself as she followed Camila up the grand staircase. She was giving herself far too much hope. Ava would likely be single following the JC fallout. But that meant nothing. Plus, Beatrice was in a life or death situation right now, and fixating on a relationship that would never be was certainly not increasing her chances of survival. 

 

“The buy in for the high roller lounge is fifty thousand.” The concierge at the door looked like he had the personality of a concrete slab. He looked the women up and down. “Each.” 

“Of course.” Camila flashed him a smile that he didn’t deserve, before pulling several bankrolls from her purse. They were counterfeit, but they were incredibly well done.

“Step right in.” He still had no expression, but he opened the door and gestured for the women to enter. 

 

Inside, the room was dim, artfully lit and slightly obscured by cigarette smoke. There were only a few patrons inside, alongside several attentive staff members. The hidden door was on the far corner, obscured with paint the same colour as the walls. 

“There’s an ethernet jack just there.” Beatrice whispered, letting Camila follow her line of sight in the direction of the roulette table. 

 

“Perfect.” Camila grinned, and led them over to it, careful to take the seat closest to the port. 

“Your wagers, ladies?” The attendant asked at once, professional and formal. Beatrice bet on three and twenty nine, randomly, and not for any other reason. Lilith bet on red, she always did. Right when Camila was exchanging chips with the attendant, her hand slipped, knocking them all to the floor. 

 

“Oh, I’m so sorry!” She bent down, scooping them up, despite the worker’s protests for her to stop. “I am so clumsy sometimes.” Resurfacing a moment later, hair slightly messy, Camila handed over her chips. “Sorry about that.” 

“No need for apologies, ma’am.” He nodded, before spinning the wheel. Beneath the table, Beatrice knew Camila was running various commands through her phone, remotely accessing her computer back at the office with a hack she ran that morning. It was brilliant, really. 

 

Just as the ball was about to settle, the lights went out, bathing the room in darkness. Beatrice wasted no time, she grabbed her friends’ hands, and counted her steps along the edge of the room, quickly finding the hidden seam of the door. Meanwhile, behind them, the staff was trying to calm down the panicked patrons, assuring them that the lights would be back on momentarily. 

 

In the dark, Lilith knelt down, feeling for a keyhole. Almost at once, Beatrice could hear the tiny clicking from a lockpick. Perfect. Lilith pushed the door open a few anxious seconds later, into another room filled with black. Beatrice pulled out her weapon, unsure of what to expect. Given how thickly soundproofed the door had been, it could be anything. 

 

Luckily, they didn’t have to wait long. After another few agonising seconds, the lights turned back on. This room had none of the charm as the lounge, but more pressingly, there were eight guards scattered around - all of whom were now drawing their weapons. Great. Beatrice threw off her suit jacket, it restricted the movement in her shoulders too much. Then, she wasted no time in diving towards the closest desk and using it as cover. 

 

“So!” Shannon shouted over the gunfire that immediately began to pepper the desk and walls. “It was too easy, huh!?” 

“Up until now…” Beatrice unholstered her weapon, concentrating on the gunfire. She was counting shots, and trying to identify their assailants' weapons from the specific firing noise. To complicate matters further, Beatrice could feel her phone vibrating - it was almost definitely Ava. Fuck. 

 

As the closest guard moved to reload, Beatrice reached up, shooting him twice before ducking back down. Camila did the same a moment later, covered by Lilith. Shannon took out a third, leaving it a more balanced five on four. Through the adrenaline, Beatrice could feel the wetness of blood soaking her shoulder, vaguely, but there was no pain. 

 

A few more rounds of gunfire were exchanged, before petering out. Lilith took out another guard, but it was clear that both sides were out of ammo. Someone would have to make a move first. Again, Beatrice felt her phone vibrate, which probably spurred her into a less than rational decision. 

 

Pulling the knife from her belt, Beatrice vaulted over the desk, ignoring the protest from Shannon. A guard barrelled forward to meet her, easily double her size but half as fast. She ducked beneath his initial punch, before deflecting his elbow and driving her palm upward, breaking the man’s joint in a swift motion. 

 

It was cockier than Beatrice normally would behave, but she was in a hurry. She kicked him back, before throwing her knife into the neck of another guard. Blood sprayed across the desk as he fell. Her friends were making quick work of the other two, and Camila had already inserted her flash drive into the computer. Perfect. Time to wrap this up. 

 

She turned back to the initial guard, surprised to find him moving forward to attack again. Beatrice was caught off guard, his fist connected with her face, and his ring was sharp against her forehead. Most people didn’t continue fighting after breaking an elbow, so Beatrice admired his tenacity, even as she shook off the painful blow. 

 

Despite her rash, distracted fighting, Beatrice was still an excellent fighter. She threw a fake kick towards his leg, then a real one into his side. He doubled over, and she finished him with an elbow to the back of the head. With a deep breath, Beatrice retrieved her coat and pulled it back on, before joining her friends at the far side of the office. 

 

“We’ve recovered the money.” Shannon gestured to two duffel bags on the desk. 

“And I’m taking a little finder’s fee,” added Camila in a sly whisper. “Plus adding a little back door hack. Just for myself.” 

“I’m very happy you’re on our side.” Lilith muttered, placing a protective hand on Camila’s shoulder. 

 

Beatrice opened her mouth to speak, but was interrupted by a pounding at the door. “Camila, how much longer do you need?” Beatrice was still hopped on adrenaline, but she was smart enough to know she couldn’t fight off an army, even if she felt like she could. 

“Five… Four…” Camila grinned, mischievous as ever. “Done.” The lights went out for the second time that evening. “And they should really have an emergency generator that is offline.” 

“I don’t remember planning the second outage.” Shannon replied, as she used her phone flashlight to lead everyone to the exterior door. 

 

“Little flare.” Camila shrugged. “Sometimes people make obvious mistakes and I can’t help myself.” 

“So what’s on the flash drive?” Lilith asked. She pushed open the door. Mary was, as promised, waiting in the Urus. Perfect. They all climbed inside, a bit bloody, but successful. Leaving the dark casino behind them felt like a victory. 

“Some records that I will need to go through and a few million dollars in cryptocurrency.” 

 

“Oh?” Mary floored it as she pulled out of the parking lot. “Is that all?” 

“Yes.” Camila sank down in her seat. Her nose looked broken, but nothing could break that smile on her face. “That’s all.” The conversation continued, but Beatrice tuned out completely, instead pulling out her phone. She had been right, the messages were from Ava. 

 

Ava: hes back! [sent: 9:21pm]

Ava: should i talk to him now? [sent: 9:21pm]

Ava: ahhh im scared! [sent: 9:21pm]

Ava: beatrice! [sent: 9:30pm]

Ava: okay im going to talk to him. wish me luck. [sent: 9:35pm]

Missed Call - Ava [10:02pm]

Missed Call - Ava [10:03pm]

Ava: he said he went out tonight to avoid me. [sent: 10:05pm]

Ava: he didnt know WHAT was coming but he could sense that something was wrong and was trying to avoid it. [sent: 10:06pm]

Ava: he is packing his things. crying. leaving. i feel horrible… but relieved somehow. am i terrible? [sent: 10:08pm]

Ava: bea? [sent: 10:11pm]

Ava: are you okay? im worried [sent: 10:31pm]

Missed Call - Ava [10:58pm]

Missed Call - Ava [10:59pm]

Ava: WHERE R U? [sent 11:02pm]

Beatrice: I’m so sorry. I’ll be there soon. [sent 11:09pm]

 

As soon as the money was secured at the office, Beatrice was basically running to her car. Camila shot her a knowing wink as she left, but thankfully everyone else held their comments. In her pocket, Beatrice felt her phone buzz once more, but she focused on the road. She felt terrible. She broke her promise, and she knew Ava’s texts were only a fraction of the real story, Ava was far more honest and emotive in person than she was in the digital form. 

 

Parking outside Ava’s small house, Beatrice wasn’t surprised to see JC’s car absent from the driveway. Slowly, Beatrice walked towards the door, slightly dizzy. She felt as if she was on the brink of something… Albeit, she wasn’t sure quite what. With bruised knuckles, she knocked on Ava’s door. 

 

“Beatrice!” Ava opened the door almost immediately, smiling slightly despite the circumstances. “I -” She paused, her expression fell away, replaced by one full of worry. “What happened to you?” 

“Oh…” All at once, Beatrice’s panic came to a crashing halt, the last of her adrenaline melting away with one simple question. She had to reach out and steady herself against the doorframe, feeling sick and off balance. Not a thought had been dedicated to hiding the evening’s activities, no, Beatrice had been too fixated on making it over to even think of changing. 

 

“Come inside.” Ava gently pulled Beatrice over the threshold, and Beatrice offered no resistance. Her normally strong frame felt like it had been replaced with wet sand. She basically collapsed onto the couch. “You’re bleeding.” Turning to the side, Beatrice realised the blood had seeped through her jacket, ruining the expensive textile… And giving away one of her secrets. Fuck. Maybe that’s why she felt so dizzy. 

 

“I…” Beatrice wondered if this was the best time. Probably not. “I should probably tell you the truth.”

Chapter 7: The Truth

Summary:

Beatrice tells Ava the truth.

Notes:

say it with me folks: i didnt proofread this dont come for me

“Ava…” Beatrice felt exhausted. She was unsure if it was the blood loss or the emotional toll of keeping so many secrets for so long. “I can do it myself. Please.” 

“This jacket is definitely ruined.” Ava had pulled off Beatrice’s coat, with the criminal in question offering little resistance. All but ignoring Beatrice, Ava began unbuttoning the shirt underneath. Pain was still a distant memory, but Beatrice could feel how wet her shoulder was.

 

“I can take care of it myself… Really.” Beatrice failed to convince even herself. And Ava continued to ignore her, fully in nurse mode now. 

“So…” Ava gently pulled off Beatrice’s sleeve, leaving her mostly shirtless on the couch, save for her bra. If Beatrice was having trouble functioning before, the effect had multiplied tenfold. “Do you want to explain who shot you? ” It was clear from the look on her face that Ava wasn’t going to be happy with some poorly thought out excuse. Not this time. 

 

“I… How do you know it’s a gunshot?” Beatrice reached a hand up to her shoulder, feeling for a leftover bullet, but not finding one. Her fingers were immediately sticky with blood. “No bullet.” 

“I spent the first several years of my career in the ER.” Ava held eye contact with Beatrice. “I know a gunshot wound when I see it.” 

“Well…” Beatrice sighed, then closed her eyes and tipped her head back. “I said I would tell you the truth.” 

 

“You did.” 

“How did it go with JC?” Managing a weak smile, Beatrice tried to avoid the truth for a minute longer. Unsurprisingly, she was unsuccessful. 

“Not great. Don’t change the subject.” She was uncharacteristically firm. A stack of bloodied gauze was starting to pile up on the coffee table. “And to be honest, I’m a bit more concerned about you right now.” 

 

At that, Beatrice’s eyes watered. “I am… Not an accountant.” 

“Go on.” Surprisingly stoic, Ava continued to tend to Beatrice’s shoulder. They’d known each other a long time, though, and Beatrice could tell Ava was desperately distracting herself from the emotion. The guilt hurt worse than the injury. 

“Ava, you have to understand that I didn’t keep this from you for no reason… I… It wasn’t safe. It still isn’t.”

 

Ava didn’t reply. Her lips were pressed together in a tight line. Beatrice sighed, unbothered by the stitches Ava was now putting in her shoulder. 

“I’m a criminal” Despite the gravity of the words, Beatrice felt a profound sense of relief in the admission. She was happy to not have to lie. For several seconds, Ava was silent, expressionless. “Ava?” 

 

“You must think I’m an idiot.” Finally her expression cracked, there were tears in her eyes. “Believing you… The gun? The injuries? Every weird thing that’s followed you through the years… Does Camila know?” 

“She knows, she…” Beatrice paused, pinching the bridge of her nose and exhaling sharply. “I’m not alone in this, Ava.” 

 

“I’ve been to your office.” Ava looked both confused and sad. “I don’t… I just don’t understand. I mean, Camila? Really? A criminal?” 

“It’s a lot. I know.” Beatrice felt sick. “There is so much to explain to you that I’m not even sure where to begin. And trust me, I feel guilty for every lie I’ve ever told you.” 

“You’re a good person, Beatrice.” Ava finished stitching up the grizzly wound on Beatrice’s shoulder. “I don’t understand how you fell into this.” 

 

“Well, that’s a long story.”

“I’ve got time,” whispered Ava. She was still focused more on Beatrice’s wound than anything else. Beatrice was jealous of the distraction. “It’s not as if I have a fiancé to worry about anymore.” 

“I’m sorry.” 

 

“Don’t be.” Shaking her head, Ava continued a moment later. “As far as JC… I feel terrible for hurting him, but I feel relieved too. I don’t want to lead him on… Now I’m free, just… I feel like a terrible person.” 

“You did the right thing.” 

“I am trying to believe that. Really.” Ava finished wrapping Beatrice’s shoulder and sat back. “It’s a little bit hard to focus on my failed relationship when I have my best friend sitting on my couch with a gunshot wound! ” Her voice rose into a shout and Beatrice didn’t blame her. 

 

“I’m sorry.” Beatrice took a deep breath. “Again, I hated keeping these secrets from you, but I wanted to keep you safe. And as more time goes on, it’s harder to say ‘hey, I’m in the fucking mafia. Just a heads up!’”

“Let’s… Start slow.” Ava leaned forward, gently cleaning the blood from Beatrice’s forehead. “What happened tonight?” 

 

“Tonight I was supposed to be on call for you. I clearly failed at that.” 

“You’re here now.” Ava’s free hand was pressed to Beatrice’s cheek. Distracting. “And while I’ll admit I’m angry too, it’s hard to stay mad… It’s hard to stay mad at you, Beatrice.” She paused, in thought. Beatrice could hear her own heartbeat. “It’s even more difficult when you’re sitting here bleeding out on my couch. So please, what happened tonight?” 

 

“Early last week, a rival of ours robbed a financial institution that we have ties to.” Beatrice began in a mumble. She’d never had to explain this before and her brain didn’t feel like it was running on all cylinders. “It was a big hit to take out on a syndicate, and we found ourselves ten million dollars poorer, without even a hint of a lead. We didn’t recognise the man, which is interesting because -” 

 

“I’m sorry, did you just say ten million? ” 

“Yes?” 

“That’s a lot of money!” Ava was aghast. There were two butterfly bandages in her hand, but she was frozen in shock. “Are you serious?” 

“It’s a fraction of our combined net worth, but… Did you never find it suspicious that Camila drives a Ferrari?” 

 

“I did, sort of. I don’t know that much about cars… Do you think I’m stupid?” 

“No. I would never think that.” Beatrice might’ve laughed had the situation been less dire. Ava’s anger was still apparent and Beatrice didn’t blame her in the slightest. 

“I’ve had doubts before… Questions… But you’re my best friend. I didn’t want to doubt you. Sometimes, you can trick yourself. You can develop a blind spot for the people close to you.” 

 

“I don’t want you to have to. Trust me. I’ve wanted to tell you for years.” Beatrice replied. Ava finished tending to her head. “And I want to tell you everything, desperately. But first, can I trouble you for a change of clothes?”

“You can.” Before standing, Ava pressed a finger against Beatrice’s stomach, to a scar that crossed her abdomen. “Is this what I think it is?” 

 

“Old stab wound.” It was bizarre to be so honest with Ava, but it was a huge rush. Of course, so was the brief physical contact. As for Ava’s emotions, those seemed even messier than Beatrice’s. 

“Jesus Christ.” Rising, Ava crossed the room, chuckling without much humour. “You think you know someone…” 

 

In the Ava-less silence, Beatrice closed her eyes. She’d been to Ava’s house dozens of times, but this was different. Everything felt charged. JC was gone, although Ava had failed to give her any details, at least so far. Plus, Ava knew the truth now, which completely altered the relationship between them. Hopefully it wasn’t too tinged with anger, though. 

 

Ava returned a few minutes later, clothes in hand. She handed them to Beatrice in silence, before cleaning the bloody refuse from the table. Once Ava stepped out again, Beatrice quickly changed. The night was catching up to her now. She winced as she pulled on Ava’s shirt, despite moving slowly through the motions. Either psychic, or likely just a trained nurse, Ava returned a few moments later, painkillers in hand.

 

“Here.” She pressed the pills into Beatrice’s palm, before handing her a glass of water. “Now, I seem to recall you were telling me about a bank robbery. God, I can’t believe that’s a real sentence…” 

“It took us a while to track down who was responsible, during which time there was a hit taken out on me.” 

 

“There was a what?! ” 

“It wasn’t a big deal. Only one assassin and he wasn’t well trained.” Beatrice managed a weak shrug. “Anyways, we tracked down a lackey and gathered our information the old fashioned way. I’ll spare you the details.” Across from the couch, Ava sat curled up in a chair, knees at her chest. She rarely sat with good posture. There was an odd look on her face, one that Beatrice didn’t recognise. 

“What if I don’t want to be spared the details?” 

 

“I… I don’t know. I just assumed -” 

“Don’t assume.” Ava anxiously fiddled with the hem of her hoodie. “I want to know.” 

“There was some light torture. Nothing crazy. Just a beating. Oh, and Camila cut off his thumb, but that was also for the phone.” To her credit, Ava didn’t freak out. Instead, she simply nodded, so Beatrice felt she had no choice but to continue. 

 

“With the information we needed, we moved forward. I wish it didn’t have to be tonight, but we were on a tight schedule. There is -” 

“Did you kill him?” 

“No.” 

“Have you killed someone before?” Her second question was harder to answer, but Beatrice didn’t want to lie. 

“Yes.” 

 

Nodding, Ava again was surprisingly calm. “I see. Please continue.” 

“Our rival owns a casino on the edge of town. For laundering purposes. We snuck in tonight to recover our money, plus a finder’s fee for the inconvenience. There was a bit of a fight towards the end, but otherwise it went smoothly. I doubt this is the end of the conflict, but… At least we are on equal footing, again. I don’t like being taken off guard.” 

 

“You have been living a crazy life.” Ava spoke with an odd cadence. It was unlike her. Beatrice’s concern multiplied tenfold. 

“In some ways, yes. And I promise, I’ll tell you every detail. In time. I’ve already told you more than necessary for tonight, and you still haven’t told me anything about your conversation with JC. Which, if you recall, is what I was supposed to be on call for tonight.” 

 

“After finding out about all this, it doesn’t seem as important.” Running a tired hand over her face, Ava continued. “He cried. I did too, but not as much… Asked me if I was sure, and I said yes. I know I was doubting myself when I talked to you, but when he asked? God, Beatrice, it was like I’d never been sure of anything else in my life.” 

“I understand.” 

 

“After the tears he got angry, which I don’t blame him for. I shouldn’t have let this go on so long. He started running around, packing his things. All I did was watch, I -” She paused to roughly wipe the tears from her eyes. “After a few trips to his car, he stopped in the doorway. Just stared at me for a moment. I felt like… This is a weird way to explain it, but it felt like he was seeing something in me that I couldn’t see myself.” Ava stopped again, crying more fully now. Tenderly, Beatrice rose and knelt on the floor beside her chair, pressing a gentle hand to Ava’s shoulder. Immediately, Ava wrapped her hand around Beatrice’s. 

 

“He asked me if I was having an affair.” Ava finally concluded. She seemed ashamed, which Beatrice understood, but didn’t agree with. 

“You wouldn’t.” Beatrice was sure about this. “Not in a million years.” She understood JC’s anger, genuinely, but she hated for Ava to have to be on the receiving end of it. “Who would you even be having an affair with anyways?” 

 

There was a heavy pause here. Ava took a few tearful breaths and Beatrice stayed by her side. Her bruised knuckles hurt where Ava’s hand was pressing into them, but she didn’t dare speak. The pain was tolerable, and she needed to be there for Ava. Finally, Ava replied, a single word that took the air from Beatrice’s lungs. 

 

“You.”

Chapter 8: The Lies that Bind

Summary:

Beatrice and Ava talk over breakfast.

Notes:

im writing a sequel to my time travel fic (also i didnt proofread this but thats news to exactly no one lol) anyways, TIME TRAVEL AGAIN? yeehaw!!!!!! i need to finish something though oh my god (also the yeehaw reminds me about my western fic oops)

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.”

Chapter 9: Can't Stop

Summary:

Beatrice gets some work done, but her distraction is ever present.

Notes:

weeooo weeooo

“I mean, I can try…” Unwilling to meet Ava’s sharp gaze after that, Beatrice looked back down at the breakfast she didn’t feel deserving of.

“Beatrice. You’re my best friend. I’m not going to stop caring just because you think you’re unworthy of it.” Ava’s grip on her fork was tight enough to turn her knuckles white. Beatrice felt nothing but guilt. 

 

“You’re awfully perceptive sometimes.” 

“I have my moments.” 

“I need to get to work,” mumbled Beatrice, still opting to stare down at the table. It was hard to reconcile this reality, where Ava knew the truth. Beatrice didn’t need to lie anymore. And that was an amazing relief despite the complications. 

 

“Are you going to get shot at again today?” Ava’s worry was obvious… And painful. 

“It’s always a possibility, I won’t lie to you.” Beatrice shrugged and ignored the pain that ripped through her shoulder. “But it should be a quiet day. We need to inventory what we stole last night and begin laundering the money.” 

“Christ.” Ava ran a hand over her face. “This seems insane. You got shot yesterday and you’re going back today?” 

 

“It was more of a graze, really.” Beatrice shook her head. She realised that this sounded more than a little bit crazy. “And crime doesn’t stop, I don’t have PTO or anything, it’s… Complicated.” 

“So I’m gathering.” 

“And I’ve put you in danger by telling you all of this, so you’ll have to forgive me for that as well as the years of lies.” Angry with herself, Beatrice abruptly pushed her chair back from the table, taking her plate to the sink.

 

She didn’t deserve this kindness from Ava. And she should have been more careful last night. It was uncharacteristically reckless. But it was getting harder to repress her emotions, they weren’t falling in line as easily as they once did. Ava made that harder. 

“Hey, it’s okay.” Speaking of which, Ava was by her side in a moment, with a warm hand pressed to Beatrice’s uninjured shoulder. “I wanted to know, and I wouldn’t change knowing. Even if that does put me in danger.” 

 

“I wonder if you’ll think the same the first time someone shoots at you.” Even in the hypothetical, the thought made Beatrice sick. This was why Ava was kept in the painful dark in the first place, the risks were too great!

“I mean, I’ve had multiple patients try to stab me. I can handle it.” Like so much about Ava, this reply was surprising. 

 

“Ava…” 

“Don’t give me that.” Ava smiled, though it seemed this was more for Beatrice’s benefit than actual mirth. “I can handle myself.” 

“I’m still worried.” Nothing, nothing, could make Beatrice stop worrying about Ava. 

“I know.” Ava leaned back against the counter, laid back in a way that Beatrice often found herself envious of. “You always worry, though.” 

 

“I have every right to.” 

“Look, I’m upset, alright. I’m upset that you lied and I’m upset about the danger you’re in. I’m also upset about my stupid failed relationship with JC. But I’m an adult and I will deal with it. Whether I’m upset or not, I still have to go to work later, and try to keep people from dying… I can compartmentalise.” 

 

“You shouldn’t have to.” Beatrice was, as usual, stubborn. 

“I know.” Ava wore a soft, sad smile. “But such is the life we live.” 

“You’ve taken this far differently than I expected.” 

“To be honest, I’m not sure I’ve fully processed all of this yet.” Ava ran a hand over her messy hair, effortlessly both beautiful and charming. “We’ll get there when we get there.” 

 

Beatrice had this image of Ava burned into her head on the drive to the office, the ride up the elevator, and the robotic process of unlocking the door to let herself in. She was essentially on autopilot. Ducking into her office, she ignored the comments from her friends, and quickly changed out of the clothes Ava had lent her. Of course, once she rejoined them, the comments began anew. Beatrice couldn’t avoid this forever. 

 

“Walk of shame, Beatrice?” Mary raised an eyebrow, and wore an amused smile. Beatrice’s crush had never been much of a secret to anyone other than Ava. Still, usually everyone was too polite to comment on it. Beatrice’s late arrival, messy disposition, and Ava’s shirt pushed everything to the brink, though.

“Did she break up with JC?” Camila sounded concerned, at least, though she too was smiling. 

 

“Yes… But there are some… Complicating factors.” Sighing, Beatrice wanted to do anything but explain, which probably meant it was exactly what she needed to do. 

“Which are?” Lilith asked quietly. 

“Yesterday Ava broke off her engagement to JC.” Beatrice began. “Which, if you’ll recall, was during our operation.” 

 

“Yes, we obviously all remember that.” Shannon leaned forward slightly, clearly interested. “Go on.” 

“I promised Ava that I’d be available, to help deal with the emotional fall out.”

“You?” Mary stifled a laugh. “Why not Camila?” 

“I think we know why.” Camila shot a look in Mary’s direction, then turned back towards Beatrice. “You were busy last night, though.” 

 

“Yes, I missed all her calls and texts because we were getting our stolen money back.” Beatrice took a deep breath. She was embarrassed but her friends and accomplices deserved at least some explanation. “Anyways, I went over right after… Bleeding a little bit more than I realised at the time.” 

“Wait, let me guess.” Camila couldn’t contain her grin. “Ava went into full nurse mode and you broke down and finally kissed?” 

 

“No.” Beatrice felt her cheeks redden. “No.” 

“Are you okay?” Shannon asked a second later. 

“Yes, fine.” Beatrice shook her head. “Just a graze.” It was, by far, not the worst injury she’d sustained. Plus, there were a dozen injuries between them, so who was she to complain? 

“Great.” Lilith’s neutral expression finally cracked. “So what happened?” 

 

“Well, Ava did go into… ‘Nurse mode.’” God, this was hard to say aloud. “I couldn’t lie anymore, I couldn’t think - I… Well, she knows.” 

“She knows the truth?” Mary was aghast, they all were. “About us?” 

“Yes.” 

“Fuck.” Camila leaned back in her chair. Besides Beatrice, she was the closest to Ava, and no doubt worried about the shockwaves that this would cause. 

 

“She took it better than I expected, honestly.”

“Was she mad?” Camila asked. Beatrice wasn’t the only long time friend of Ava’s who’d been lying, no Ava and Camila had been friends for even longer. 

“Yes and no. Not really.” Beatrice shook her head. “Like I said, complicated. Between me dropping the criminal bomb and the JC thing, she has a lot to think about.” 

 

“No shit.” Mary’s expression was a concerned one. “What are you going to do?”

“Right now?” Beatrice thought of Ava. “Right now, I’m going to do my work. I need the distraction.” 

“I’ll drink to that,” muttered Camila. She pulled out her computer, to provide the preliminary report on their stolen finances. Lilith, meanwhile, slid Beatrice a printed packet. 

 

“I am concerned, and I think rightfully so, about our operation being compromised.” Shannon barely glanced at the report in her hand before continuing. “It’s not as if we’re upfront about our addresses or where we have laundering operations. Especially you, Beatrice, you might have to move.”

“I figured.” Beatrice nodded. It wasn’t a big deal. She didn’t have many possessions, and she moved at least once a year. Part of the job, really.

 

“Our contact at the bank, understandably, doesn’t want to risk the business anymore, either. Another hit like this could reveal their shadier contacts. We need to find a new solution in that realm.” Lilith flipped a page in her packet. “I already have a preliminary report on our options, but we need to move quickly, obviously. We can’t just have millions of dollars sitting around in cash. That’s idiotic.” 

 

“Vegas is always an option.” Mary teased, not for the first time. It was a joke she made every time they received a big sum, though the group had only ventured to Sin City once… Which was a disaster. Still, converting cash to chips and then back again was an inefficient and labour intensive way to launder money, anyhow. 

“I was thinking more along the lines of real estate,” countered Lilith. She wore the slightest grin, though, likely recounting the same memories as Beatrice. 

 

“I set up a purchase with one of our shell corps. Paperwork is pending, but we should be the proud new owners of a block of luxury apartments on the west side of town.” Camila explained. “So Beatrice, I guess you’ll be your own landlord.” 

“Oh, is that where I’m moving?” Beatrice raised an eyebrow. She didn’t have that strong of an opinion about this. After her youth was shattered, she’d never developed an attachment to a place of residence… Not that she was home much, anyhow. 

 

“Ideally, though I’d understand if there was someone else you wanted to move in with.” Camila replied quietly. Beatrice shot her a look.

“Be realistic.” It was hard not to imagine it, though. Beatrice closed her eyes for a moment, unable to resist the temptation of imagining a quiet life with Ava. “It’s not going to happen.” 

“I wouldn’t be too sure.” Somewhat teasing, Camila winked before continuing to read through her notes. 

 

“I still need to finish digging through the hack from the casino, but we weren’t totally subtle. If I were Adriel, I’d assume that we took information, and therefore, I’d modify upcoming operations as a precaution.” 

“Agreed.” Shannon nodded. “And Adriel has proven himself more than smart enough to make that adjustment.” 

 

“That being said, I think it’s possible that we could extrapolate his next move.” Camila added. Her nose was definitely broken from the night before, but it seemed nothing could dampen her spirit. She loved this work, after all. And despite the danger, Adriel and his crew represented an exciting challenge. “Especially with computer-assisted analysis. I already have a simulation running.” 

 

“We need to find some of his higher level personnel.” Beatrice chimed in, still half-trapped in thoughts of Ava. Not the worst curse to have, though. “Removing his intelligent support could erode his operation.” 

“Agreed.” Mary made a few notes. “I think our work is pretty clearly cut out for us.” 

“It is.” Shannon rose from her chair. “Everyone knows what to do. Let’s get to it.” 

 

Somehow, Beatrice managed several hours of only moderately distracted work. She located a few of Adriel’s top men, and had leads on a few others. With a convincing threat or two, she’d probably be able to turn up their addresses as well. Violence in cold blood was harder to stomach, but a necessary evil of the career. Of course, the brief conversation about her past that morning with Ava had Beatrice thinking about it more than she would normally. 

 

Eventually, there would need to be more explanation, a dark past that Beatrice was reluctant to share with anyone… Especially Ava. To further complicate matters, her phone vibrated on the desk. Without looking, Beatrice already knew whose name would adorn the screen. Picking up the blessed (cursed!) device, she confirmed her suspicions. 

 

Ava: i havent been able to stop thinking about you and everything you told me. work has been nearly impossible (lucky i am on a low stress, low risk rotation right now). i dont want to say too much in text, im not a total idiot. but i have questions. concerns. they are loud in my head and all i want is to talk to you now that this news has had some time to settle. can we get dinner tonight? [sent 3:45pm]

Beatrice: Of course. I will pick you up. [sent 3:46pm]

Chapter 10: In Pursuit

Summary:

Ava is being followed home from work and Beatrice isn't going to stand for that.

Notes:

i like having beatrice as a foil to herself, depending on if the situation involves ava or not. english teacher shit bitch

Just as the ink of her signature dried on the page, Beatrice’s phone rang. She recognised the custom ringtone at once, and excused herself from Camila's hired lawyer and stepped into the foyer of the penthouse. 

“Hi, Ava.” Beatrice felt herself smile, despite the stress. “I’m just finishing up at work and then I’ll swing by.”

 

“Okay, so… Quick thing…” Ava’s hesitation was telling, as was her tone. Beatrice felt the tension in her shoulders renew itself tenfold. 

“Yes…?”

“I’m driving home from work, right?” 

“Right, please explain faster.” 

 

“Sorry. Okay. I’m driving home and I notice this car pull out behind me.” Ava exhaled, an audible gust through the phone. “Normally I probably wouldn’t have noticed, but after you and I talked I’m… A little on edge.” 

“Okay…” Beatrice had a feeling she knew where this was going. Ducking into the main living space, she gestured to the lawyer, who confirmed that Beatrice’s work was done here. She was already in the elevator before Ava’s next sentence came.

 

“Anyway, the car is following me, so I have just been circling around for a while.” Ava concluded, with a casualness that worried Beatrice to no end. 

“What is the plate number?” 

“Doesn’t have one.” 

“Fuck. Alright.” Beatrice paced around the tiny elevator as it descended several floors. “Keep driving. Do not stop, do not go home.” 

 

“Shockingly, I actually came to that conclusion on my own.” Here, Ava laughed, which only caused Beatrice to grind her teeth together.
“For the amount of potential danger you’re in, you’re being awfully blasé about it.”

“My hospital is a level one trauma centre. I think I’ve learned to suppress that adrenaline response, you know? And it’s not like I’m not scared, I am, I don’t want to get shot.” 

 

“You’re not going to get shot.” Beatrice replied, determined as she ran across the parking garage to her vehicle. Within seconds, her revving engine echoed through the concrete structure. “Where are you?” 

“South end of downtown, trying to stay on the freeway.” Ava’s answer was concise, which Beatrice appreciated. 

 

“I’m on my way. Loop northwards and then get off somewhere in the shipping district. There are several empty docks on the far end.” Beatrice was desperately trying to think of some clever way to ensure Ava’s safety, but she came up empty. It was hard not to feel like a fool. “Do not stop or get out of your car until you know I’m there.” 

“Got it.” 

 

Hanging up, despite a desperate desire to stay on the line, Beatrice used her car’s console to call Mary. Simultaneously, she gunned it onto the freeway, needing to close the distance between her and Ava. It was impossible to ignore the reality - this was Beatrice’s fault.

“Beatrice, what’s up?” Mary answered on the second ring.

“Ava’s being followed, unmarked car.” Speaking quickly, Beatrice glanced down at the speedometer as it tipped past the triple digit mark. “I’m the closest one, but I need a distraction.” 

 

“Where?” 

“I sent her to the docks, to limit witnesses. A stray worker will be easier to pay off than a throng of tourists downtown. I can get there in ten, but I need to make sure I won’t run into any cops on the way.” 

“Say no more. I have just the thing.” Mary was decisive, calm. “And I’ll have Camila jam their radios.”

 

“Perfect. Thank you.” Slightly breathless, Beatrice shifted again, breaking every rule of the road at this point. 

“Yep. Go get your girl.” 

“She’s not my -” Beatrice stopped as the call went dead. Typical. Sighing, Beatrice pushed away the distraction and focused on the road. 

 

Calling Ava again, Beatrice mentally ran through her options. There weren’t many good ones, given the timeline, but she needed to think of something.  

“Hello, again.” Ava’s surprising calm echoed through the cabin of Beatrice’s sports car, which was very much not calm. 

“You’re driving slow, right? As in, you don’t suspect a tail?” 

 

“Yes, I’m not stupid.” 

“I’m not suggesting you are, just…” Beatrice trailed off. Of course she was worried about Ava’s opinion when lives were on the line. When Ava’s life was on the line. “Mary is creating a distraction, to pull police out of the area and Camila is jamming their communications… But no one else will be here in time.”

“That’s alright.” Ava replied, still calm. In the background, Beatrice could hear the indicator of Ava’s car. “I have faith in you.” 

 

“Again, I feel the need to comment on your lack of panic here.” Beatrice shifted into her top gear, swerving between cars on the freeway. It was reckless behaviour, even for a criminal like her, but Ava being in danger, well, that demanded immediate action. “Where are you?” 

“Just getting off at the shipyard; last exit before the freeway swings back inland.” Ava reported. “And I’m plenty panicked, I’m just saving it for later.” 

 

“If it makes you feel better, I’m only a few miles behind you.” Beatrice had such a tight grip on her steering wheel that her knuckles turned white. It was nearly impossible to keep her voice even, but she had to. For Ava. “Can you tell me what type of car it is? Colour? Defining features?” 

“Don’t sound so stressed.” Ava could still hear the tension, then. “It’s rugged-looking. Luxury. Tinted windows so I can’t tell how many people are inside, or who.” 

 

“They’re probably bulletproof,” muttered Beatrice, half to herself. She had a pistol holstered beneath her blazer and an MP7 in the glove box, but she wasn’t Mary, who routinely travelled with a full arsenal. Something to remedy in the future, and another shortcoming to focus on in the present. “I’ll come up with something, don’t worry.” 

“I’m not worried, Beatrice.” Ava’s smile was audible through the phone. 

 

“You…” Beatrice didn’t want to say: you should be. “You are an unpredictable woman, sometimes.” Turning off the freeway, Beatrice slowed down on the ramp, catching her first sight of Ava on the road below. “I see you. Take your next left and don’t speed.” 

“What are you -” 

“Don’t worry about that. Just worry about following my directions and keeping yourself safe.” 

 

“Will they recognise your car?” Ava asked another question, undeterred by Beatrice’s interruption.

“Almost definitely, but I don’t plan on letting them see me. Once you hit the docks proper, try to find the emptiest one you can, preferably at the far end. I don’t want anyone getting hurt.” Beatrice turned quickly, running on a parallel road to Ava. Sweat was beading on her forehead, despite the AC running. 

 

“Alright… Won’t this look suspicious?” 

“I’m banking on them making the assumption that you’re working with us.” Beatrice explained some of her reasoning, hoping she and Ava could talk about it more in-depth later… Provided they were both still alive and Ava wasn’t irreparably angry after being put in danger like this. 

“Oh? Are you here often?” It almost felt like Ava wasn’t taking this seriously enough, her drive for information about Beatrice’s criminal lifestyle felt more urgent than her survival instinct. 

 

“Ava, please. Focus.” Beatrice was speeding along a service road that ran along the shipyard. Thankfully, the sun was setting; most of the workforce had clocked out for the day. The gunshot wound on Beatrice’s shoulder ached from the tension she was putting on it, but Beatrice ignored the pain. “What dock number are you turning down?” 

 

“Haven’t gotten there yet.” Ava replied. “Just passed seventy two, but there was a crew working.”

“Keep driving. Go slow. See if you can find something behind the tanker. It’s good cover.” cover for what, Beatrice wasn’t sure. She didn’t have a lot of options here. Her mind was racing like the engine of her car. “And don’t use your turn signal when you get there, just make a sudden left.” 

 

“Yes ma’am.” There was a short pause here and Beatrice turned onto the main access road. With the oblique angle of the sun, she had to squint to see the cars up ahead. Hearing was difficult too, given the pounding heartbeat in her ears. “Alright, dock one hundred and two. Empty as it gets.” 

“Drive to the end and park, next to a boat like you’re waiting to meet someone. Keep your head down.” 

 

“Alright…” Finally, Ava’s calm broke. She sounded nervous for the first time. “Okay, they’ve turned to follow… And they’re parking.” 

“Anyone getting out?” Beatrice sped up. She had a plan now, a stupid plan, but a plan. 

“Two men, both with big guns.” Ava’s voice cracked on the last word, but she still tried to add a joke. “Is that even legal?”

 

“Don’t joke.” Beatrice ground her foot into the accelerator and unlocked her car doors as she sped down the access road. It was rough, hell on her finely tuned suspension, but that was the least of her concerns. “What are they doing?” She unbuckled her seatbelt and ignored the warning bell from her car. 

“Rolling down the windows and using the doors as cover.”

“Lay down. I’ll be there in five.” 

“Minutes?” 

“Seconds.” 

 

Reaching over, Beatrice pulled the gun from her glovebox, holding it tightly in her hand. Right as she reached the dock Ava was on, she whipped the car into a slide, barely controlled at a ridiculous speed. Just as the car was about to smash into Ava’s unknown follower, Beatrice threw herself out the door. Hitting the dock hurt, but Beatrice rolled to avoid the worst of the momentum. 

 

Still, she was quick to rise, standing just as both cars fell off the edge into the water. Beatrice wasted no time in walking to the edge, as both vehicles sank into the depressingly dirty water. The crash had taken both men with it, but she still held her gun at the ready, prepared to shoot any survivors. No one resurfaced. 

 

“Were you really going to shoot them?” Ava asked, appearing behind Beatrice after a few minutes.

“Hm?” Beatrice turned, startled. She lowered her gun. “To protect you? Yes.” 

“I wonder what they wanted…” Ava walked to the edge of the dock and looked down at the bubbles still rising from the wreck. 

 

“To kill you. Either because they think you are working with us or because they’re angry about the money and want to send a message.” Beatrice bit. Her anger wasn’t directed towards Ava, but at the situation. “Either way, it shouldn’t have happened. I’m sorry.” 

“This could have happened whether you told me or not.” Ava replied with the logic that Beatrice didn’t really want to hear. “We’ve been seen together in public many times.”

 

“I… I know.” Another failure to add to the list. “Can I borrow your phone?” If the non sequitur startled Ava, she didn’t show it. “I need to call Lilith and mine is… Somewhere down there.” Beatrice looked once more down at the water. 

“Here.” Ava handed over her device.

“Thank you.” Beatrice quickly dialled the number and ignored Ava’s look of concern.

 

“Ava? Why are you calling me, you know -” 

“It’s me,” interrupted Beatrice. “Tell Camila she can stop jamming the police signals. I need a bribe or a cover up at the north shipyard, between docks 102 and 103. Two cars, two bodies, and probably a few illegal weapons.”

“Do you want to explain, or…?” 

 

“They were coming after Ava.” The words tasted sour in Beatrice’s mouth, a sick, guilty acid. “And the rest I’ll explain in person.”

“Oh… Understandable.” It almost sounded as if Lilith was teasing, but with her it was hard to be sure. “Am I correct in assuming you’ll need a new car?” 

“Yes. Something more durable this time.”

“I’ll talk to my guy.” Lilith hung up before Beatrice could reply. 

 

Handing Ava’s phone back, Beatrice was surprised when Ava let her hand linger “You’re bleeding.” 

“Am I?” Beatrice’s entire body was still pounding with adrenaline, unlike her given the conditioning of her lifestyle. Ava’s involvement really threw her off. Nothing felt entirely real. 

“Yes. Come on.” Ava all but pulled Beatrice away from the edge of the dock, as if scared she would fall off… Or jump. “Do we need to stay or can I give you a ride?” 

 

“I…” In the vortex of emotion, Beatrice couldn’t quite put together an answer.

“Do you still want dinner?” Ava’s smile looked slightly forced, but still genuine enough to make Beatrice blush. 

“Yes,” managed Beatrice. “I do.” 

“Okay.” Still holding hands, Ava led Beatrice to the car. “Let’s start there.”

Chapter 11: Perception

Summary:

Ava gets a chance to ask Beatrice more questions.

Notes:

i had a really good a/n idea but i forgot it

“That was extremely dangerous,” whispered Ava as she pulled back onto the main road. Beatrice sat stock still, eyes closed and head pressed against the seat. It was everything she could do to keep her heart rate in check, she hadn’t had an adrenaline dump like this in years. 

“Ava, they were literally seconds away from killing you. Does that not bother you?” 

“It does, I guess…”

 

“You guess? ” Beatrice felt a wave of anger that she didn’t entirely understand. It made her head spin.

“Honestly, I didn’t feel that worried. I knew you’d… I…” Ava scrunched up her forehead slightly in thought, while merging back onto the freeway. “Like, yeah, I was a bit nervous. For you, too. But knowing that you were there, well, it was hard for me to feel truly scared for my life.” 

 

For several seconds, Beatrice couldn’t reply. She sat, still motionless, letting Ava’s words echo in her mind. Did Ava realise the gravity of this admission? Was Beatrice making it into something it wasn't? 

“Beatrice?” Ava turned away from the road for a moment. “Are you okay?” 

“Yes.” Beatrice lied. She wanted to throw up. “I’m sorry.”

 

“Why?”

“Because I put you in danger. Our friendship puts you in danger.”

“Had you not told me the truth, I wouldn’t have called. These aren’t the types of things I notice, normally.” Ava’s voice was kind, far nicer than Beatrice felt she deserved. And Ava did have a point, she could be ridiculously unperceptive at times. “I would have driven home and then probably been shot in my driveway.” 

 

“Don’t say that.” 

“I didn’t think someone in your line of work would be so weirded out by this.” Ava spoke with a hint of anger, which Beatrice didn’t blame her for, but hated nonetheless. 

“Because it’s you, Ava.” Beatrice covered her face with her hands, exhaling heavily as she did. “Because it’s you,” she repeated, in a harsh whisper. 

 

“Oh.” 

“A responsible friend would have walked away. I should have encouraged you to stay with JC, and kept my distance… I should have disappeared.” 

“Yeah, I wouldn’t let that happen.” Ava shrugged and smiled, but there was a tension that Beatrice didn’t miss. “Irrespective of your secret life, JC and I were over. Besides, I’m not sure what my failed love life has to do with anything.”

 

“Still…” 

“Still nothing, Beatrice. If I know anything, and I’m not entirely convinced that I do, I know you’re putting too much blame on yourself.”

“No I’m not.” Beatrice muttered. 

“You are.” 

 

“Okay, fine, I am!” Beatrice’s messier emotions finally surfaced. “I have cared about very few people in my life, because it’s dangerous to be close to me! Because everyone I’ve ever been close with is either a criminal, or dead.” Pausing to wipe the sudden tears from her eyes, Beatrice caught a glimpse of her bloody face in the window’s reflection. “I don’t want that for you… And I don’t want you to die.”

“Well, lucky for you I don’t want me to die either.” Ava smiled again, more genuine this time. Despite the tears, Beatrice couldn’t help but return the expression. Ava always made her feel lighter, made her feel as if her burdens were lighter than they’d been before. 

 

“You need to take this more seriously, Ava.” Beatrice felt compelled to remind her. 

“Look, respectfully, I can’t.” Ava turned into the parking lot of her favourite diner. “I know I should, but I can’t. If I take seriously the danger that you’re constantly in, plus whatever fucked up circumstances led you to this line of work… I will lose my mind.” Rendered silent once more, Beatrice closed her eyes and pushed her head back into the seat. Ava made it hard to breathe sometimes. 

 

After another minute, the car stopped moving. Beatrice’s head stopped spinning. Just as Beatrice felt like she could take a breath, Ava spoke again. 

“I have my work bag in the backseat. And a hoodie. You can’t go in looking like that.” 

“Like what?” Beatrice didn’t even open her eyes. She knew there was some blood clinging to her face and clothes, but pain hadn’t yet crept into her perception.

 

Ava didn’t reply verbally. Instead, she exited the vehicle, before opening Beatrice’s door a few moments later, bag in hand. Beatrice exhaled slowly as she opened her eyes. Being alone with Ava was more difficult than it used to be and she didn’t understand why.

“Take your blazer off.” Ava instructed while unzipping her duffel. 

“Awfully forward, aren’t we?” Beatrice made a surprising joke, to which Ava chuckled. 

 

“What can I say? I’m single and ready to mingle.” Ava replied, while prepping her supplies. “Why didn’t you just shoot them? I don’t think they knew you were coming, you probably could have gotten the jump.” The sudden 180 in conversation was typical of Ava, but Beatrice still found herself surprised. 

“I didn’t trust myself to make the shot.” It was odd to answer honestly, but a relief at the same time.

 

“Why?” Ava began cleaning the blood that had seeped from Beatrice’s existing shoulder wound. Throwing herself out of a moving car definitely didn’t help the healing process. “The Beatrice I know isn’t bad at anything, illegal or otherwise.” 

“I knew I could make the first shot, but with the car between us, the second shot was too risky. And with my shoulder…” Beatrice paused to look at her ruined blazer. “It’s harder to stabilise my gun. I needed to take them both out at the same time, and not provide an opportunity for them to shoot you.” 

 

“Or you,” added Ava.

“Sure.” It couldn’t have been less of a concern to Beatrice. All that mattered was Ava. Clearly picking up on that lack of care, Ava shot Beatrice a grumpy look. 

“Are you normally this reckless?”

“No.” 

 

“Oh,” mumbled Ava. Beatrice didn’t reply after that, instead opting to stay as still as possible while Ava cleaned and covered various scrapes. Everywhere Ava’s hand grazed her skin, Beatrice felt aflame. The face was even worse, as Ava kept her hand on Beatrice’s cheek the entire time. Only inches apart, Beatrice was irrationally terrified that Ava would be able to hear her thoughts, or at least sense her panic. It wasn’t until Ava took a step back that Beatrice could take a full breath again. 

 

“Alright. That’ll do.” Ava passed Beatrice her hoodie, since the blazer Beatrice had been wearing was torn and bloody. “Was this your first time jumping from a moving car?” 

“No.” Beatrice winced slightly as she pulled the hoodie on. Her adrenaline was finally fading and the dull ache of pain was beginning to make itself known. “Fourth time, actually.” 

“Wait, are you serious?!” 

 

“Yes.” Beatrice rose, smiling at the look on Ava’s face. 

“Okay, you can’t just say that and not give me any details!” 

“I can give you details if you want.” Beatrice let Ava lead her into the restaurant. It was dark outside now, which hopefully meant Ava couldn’t see the blush creeping across her cheeks. 

 

Never had Beatrice dared imagine Ava like this. Ava single, Ava who knew the truth, Ava who knew the truth and still wanted to know Beatrice in return. It always seemed ridiculous, like a reality that could never come to fruition. Of course, Beatrice should have realised that with Ava, the impossible is always possible. She should have prepared for this… Somehow. 

 

Once they were seated, in a corner booth away from the few other patrons, Ava immediately began her line of questioning. “Tell me more about the other car jumps.” 

“Yes ma’am.” Beatrice held the menu in hand, but she couldn’t have read it if she tried. “I kind of thought you’d be more curious about what happened today, but -” 

“I’m plenty curious, but we’ll get there.” 

 

“Alright.” Beatrice took a breath, trying to compose herself. Her body was starting to ache more fully, and a loud part of her brain simply wanted to go to bed. “First time I jumped out of a moving car was when I was seventeen. It was my first ‘proper’ heist, and it went completely wrong. It was either jump or get trapped in a car that was about to plunge into a canal.” 

“Seventeen?” Ava raised an eyebrow, with poorly disguised concern written all over her face. 

 

“It’s best to start young,” mumbled Beatrice. She hated to be the centre of Ava’s attention, but at the same time, wanted nothing more. 

“I see. What about the other times?” 

“Second time was one of the first jobs I pulled with Camila. Our tires got shot out, so we jumped out and finished the fight on the road.”

 

“Did you… Win?” 

“I’m still here.” Beatrice didn’t elaborate, but given Ava’s change in expression, she didn’t need to. 

“This is harder to hear than expected.” Ava frowned. 

“You asked, I just -” 

 

“I know, I know.” Ava held up a hand. “I know I asked. I want to know. I sincerely, genuinely want to know. And in theory, it seems so cool. Daring gun fights, heists and money, it sounds like a movie. But then I think of you. I think of my dear friend, who has more scars than I can count… And it’s concerning more than anything.” 

“Oh.” 

 

The waitress interrupted them then, which gave Beatrice a few desperate moments to collect her thoughts. She ended up ordering exactly what Ava ordered, making a decision was too great a burden to handle at the moment. 

“And, please know I mean this with kindness, I always knew you were a bit fucked up.” Smiling as she spoke, Ava’s kindness softened the blow of her words significantly. 

 

“Wait, how did you know that?” Beatrice objected. “I act… Normal.” Hesitating on the word ‘normal,’ Beatrice knew that a conscious acknowledgement of her attempts to try and act as such were already a condemnation.

“Do you?” Ava looked as if she was trying not to laugh. “Look, you’ve been a better friend to me than I deserve, so I don’t want to criticise you, but…” 

 

“You can criticise me.” If anything, Beatrice felt like she wasn’t good enough to be friends with Ava, let alone anything more. Her job was a major distraction, a dangerous occupation that sometimes kept her from Ava longer than was fair.

“You are one of the least forthcoming people I’ve ever met. Everything I know about you I’ve either had to ask you directly about, god forbid you volunteer a piece of information, or I bully Camila into telling me.” 

 

“That’s not that weird.”

“Not by itself, no. But the obsessively clean apartment, which you move from every few months it seems, the constant rotation of cars, the perfected details of each outfit down to the creases on your linen shirts… Jesus, Beatrice it’s like you’re trying to be… Perfect.” 

“I didn’t realise you were paying such close attention.” That hard-to-breathe feeling was back. Beatrice leaned against the booth, creating a few extra inches between herself and Ava. 

 

“I am.” 

“Well, I’m not perfect.” Beatrice shook her head. “Most of that is for work. The cars, the moving… What’s the point in settling down when you know you’ll move in half a year?” 

“But that’s sort of the point, isn’t it? Who can live like that?” Ava reached across the table, taking Beatrice’s hand in her own. “Don’t you want a little bit of mess? A little bit of something that shows that you’ve lived? A few little tchotchkes on the windowsill? Something…”

 

“I didn’t realise you were on your psych rotation,” murmured Beatrice. It was a weak joke, sure, but Ava’s points were valid. And yes, Beatrice used her occupation to avoid building a real life, but she’d avoided doing so for this long, right? What was there to avoid? And why? Beatrice wasn’t even sure she knew, much less understood. Oh, it was going to be a long night. Beatrice was only now realising just how thoroughly Ava saw through her. 

“Sorry, I’m not trying to attack you, I’m really not.” 

 

“I know.” 

“Are you sure?” Ava’s youthful hope as she asked made Beatrice’s heart ache. Sometimes Ava could hold onto hope with an innocence that Beatrice wasn’t sure she’d ever had.

“I’m sure.” Sighing, Beatrice continued. “But I don’t want you going home tonight. You pay rent with your actual name, it’ll be too easy to find your address if they haven’t already.” 

 

“Who is ‘they?’” 

“Not a conversation we can have in public, but I promise I’ll explain more behind closed doors.” 

“Alright.” Ava hesitated for a moment. “With people after you, is your apartment even safe?” 

“No, but luckily I just signed a new lease before you called.” Beatrice smiled here, if only for the small triumph of being able to keep Ava safe. 

 

“How did you manage that? It took months to find my rental.”

“Money opens a lot of doors. Plus Lilith had most of the paperwork ready. Obviously we’re working through a shell corp.” 

“Obviously.” Ava rolled her eyes and chuckled. “Is it nice?” 

“Nicer than my last apartment, I suppose. I don’t plan on spending much time there, so…”

 

“So…?” Ava prompted. 

“This is some of that not-normal behaviour.”

“Are you self-conscious now?” 

“Not self-conscious, no.” Beatrice searched her thoughts for a more apt descriptor. “More aware, perhaps. I don’t want you to think less of me.” 

 

“I could never. This isn’t about judgement, Bea.” It was rare to hear Ava use Camila’s nickname for Beatrice, but it did happen on rare occasions. “I just want to know you. The real you.”

“I understand.” What Beatrice wanted to say, but couldn’t, was me too.

Chapter 12: Some, Not All

Summary:

Ava and Beatrice talk more, then go back to Beatrice's apartment for the night.

Notes:

hehehehehehe i didnt proofread this so if it makes no sense it makes no sense

Ava’s phone rang as they were finishing their food in silence. Normally Ava wouldn’t have answered while they were together, more polite than the always-on-call Beatrice, but it was Camila. 

“Hey Cam.” Ava had a line of chocolate milkshake above her upper lip, which Beatrice didn’t want to comment on. It was cute in a way Beatrice would never admit. “What’s up?”

 

There was a pause, obviously Camila was talking on the other end. Initially, Beatrice thought the call might have actually been for her, but apparently that was not the case. Sighing, all she could do was wait until Ava hung up.

“Okay. Thank you. I really appreciate it and I know Beatrice will too.” 

“Appreciate what?” Beatrice asked. Ava only raised a hand, wordlessly asking her to wait. Oddly, Beatrice felt like a child, waiting for her parents to be off of an important call. It was a bizarre feeling, a reduction she hadn’t known in a long time. 

 

“Yes, I’m fine. Beatrice is fine. Little bit scraped up, nothing I can’t handle. Mhm. Alright. Good to know. Thank you again.” Ava hung up and shoved her phone back into her pocket. “That was Camila.” 

“Yes, I gathered.” Beatrice muttered. 

“Shannon and Lilith covered up what happened at the docks. It’s taken care of. She didn’t specify how, and I didn’t ask.” 

 

“Nor should you. I already don’t like how close you are to this, and knowing more details only puts you in more danger.” 

“Why?” Ava’s innocence was stunning, sometimes. 

“Because information is something people torture for.” 

“Oh.” 

 

“Sorry.” Beatrice hated to be so harsh, but Ava needed to understand the risks here. And if that pushed her away, well, maybe that was for the best. “I just… Worry.” 

“I know. I’ll be careful.” Ava took another sip of her milkshake, renewing her little moustache. “She also said that she had your furniture moved to your new place. Said it was your safest option tonight and she didn’t want you sleeping on the floor.” 

 

“Eh, wouldn’t be the first time.” Beatrice shrugged, which hurt more than she’d anticipated. Her whole body ached now, almost like she’d thrown herself from a moving vehicle. 

“Did you hit your head when you jumped out of the car?” 

“I…” Beatrice tried to think, but it was all a blur. “I don’t know.” 

“I wonder if you’re concussed,” whispered Ava. “You’re acting strange.” 

 

“No I’m not.” Defensive to her last breath, Beatrice secretly agreed but would never admit it. She felt strange too, a million feelings melding together in a way she couldn’t even begin to explain. 

“Whatever you say.” Ava smiled, before reaching for her wallet.

“Stop, you’re not paying.” Beatrice pushed Ava’s hand back below the table and pulled out her own wallet. “You nearly died today and it was my fault.” 

 

“Yeah, but -”

“But nothing.” Beatrice pulled out a bill that was far too large for their meal, even with tip. “Ready?”

“I have a job too, you don’t always need to pay for me.” Ava muttered as she slid out of the booth. 

 

“Yes, I’m aware. But now that you know the truth, I don’t need to pretend anymore.” Beatrice was, at the very least, happy that she didn’t need to lie. Least of all to Ava, her best friend. 

“Still, it’s not fair.”

“Neither is the danger you’re in.” Beatrice pushed open the door to the parking lot, while quickly scanning for threats. She didn’t see anything concerning, but it was important to always be on alert. Especially now, especially around Ava. 

 

“Still…” Ava was clearly running out of good arguments. 

“Still?” Beatrice prompted as she followed Ava back to the car. She had a hand on her pistol beneath the hoodie, just in case. “I make millions of dollars a year, Ava. It’s fine. Seriously.” 

“Alright, alright.” Ava finally acquiesced. “Fuck. Millions.” 

“Yes.”

 

“That’s a lot of money.” Ava got behind the wheel but she didn’t immediately start the car. “Is it worth it?” 

“Depends on the day.” Beatrice paused, she wanted to explain more. But why couldn’t she? “Maybe it seems all bad to you, but there is a lot to like, too.” 

“Like what?” After glancing over, Ava started the car and pulled out of the parking lot. Beatrice kept her eyes fixed on the mirror, just in case. 

 

“Head south, towards the oceanside neighbourhoods. And there is a thrill, a satisfaction that’s hard to explain. If you’re smart enough, you can pull off the impossible.” Frowning, Beatrice thought the explanation sounded a bit shallow. This was hard for her in a way she hadn’t anticipated. Years of repressing her emotions hadn’t made it easier. “Cars are fun, too. And if you want drugs, there are plenty. Well, every vice, really. Gambling, women, alcohol, violence…”

 

“I can’t imagine you doing drugs, if we’re being honest.” 

“I don’t.” Beatrice laughed. “Too dangerous.” 

“As compared to everything else you do?” Ava made a fair point. 

“Well… Those are calculated risks. And I have skills that can be leveraged. But say I were to do a few lines, my judgement is impaired, and hey, maybe I drive my Lamborghini off a cliff.”

 

“You have a Lambo?”

“I used to.” Beatrice replied. 

“There is so much I don’t know about you,” mumbled Ava. It was impossible to tell if she was angry, or disappointed. 

“I’m sorry.” Beatrice should have held her tongue.

 

“You’re still Beatrice, you’re still you. You’re still my friend. It all just feels one-sided in a way I don’t like.” Ava’s voice softened, and became more kind. Beatrice relaxed the tiniest amount. 

“Again, I’m sorry.” 

“No, don’t apologise. Just… Pardon the questions. I need to get to know you again.” 

“Ask as many as you need.” Beatrice would answer a million questions if it meant Ava staying her friend. 

“First, where am I going?” Ava gestured vaguely to the street sign. 

“Oh. Left up ahead, then left again once you hit the ocean.” 

“So what about the other vices? You gamble?” Ava followed Beatrice’s directions, but that wasn’t enough of a distraction to keep her from asking more questions. “Have sex? Fight?” 

“I fight all the time, but I’m not sure I’d consider it a vice.” 

 

“How so?” 

“I mean, it’s part of the job. There is an element of enjoyment, yes, but I don’t necessarily seek it out. Plus there’s a lot of less enjoyable training that goes into it, so… No. Not a vice. If you’re interested in joining an illegal fighting ring, though, I can arrange it.” 

“No, I’m good, thanks.” Ava laughed, eliminating some of the tension between them. “You said left here, right?” 

“Yes.” Beatrice nodded. “And then right, down into this parking garage. 

“Is there supposed to be security?” Ava asked, as she eyed the armed guards that were stationed at the entrance. 

“Yes.” Beatrice rolled down her window as they approached the gate, then quickly typed in her code. “Mary owns a security company, partially as a way to launder money and partially as a way to protect some of our assets.” 

 

“Assets?” 

“Like this building. Which is an investment.” Beatrice offered a brief explanation. “My spot is up ahead, you can park there. The one marked with a ‘P.’”

“Aren’t they normally numbered?” Ava wondered aloud as she rolled forward, far slower than Beatrice would have. 

 

“It’s for penthouse.”

“Oh.” Ava parked. Getting out of the car, she stood still for a moment, looking at her ageing Toyota among the luxury vehicles that shared the space. “This is weird.” 

“Don’t worry about it. I think Mary is using most of this for storage, no one lives here yet.”

“Mary owns all of these?” Ava’s eyes widened. “There’s like two dozen cars down here.” 

 

“Most of them, I think. Shannon maybe owns some of them…” Beatrice tried not to smile, she didn’t want to make Ava self-conscious. “It takes a bit of getting used to, I’m sorry.” 

“It does, but that doesn’t mean you need to apologise.” Ava retrieved her bag from the car before following Beatrice to the elevator. “I knew the firm was doing well, but not this well.” 

“They aren’t just for show, though. Switching out makes a person harder to follow, especially when you switch the plates, too.” 

“I see.” 

 

In silence, Beatrice typed another code into the elevator panel, then pressed the button for the top floor. She stared at her shoes as they rode up, unsure of what to say to Ava. This awkwardness between them was new and unwelcome, but Beatrice preferred it to being alone, even if she tried to convince herself otherwise with disturbing frequency. 

 

“It’s not much of a home yet, but make yourself at home.” Beatrice mumbled as she unlocked the door and turned the lights on. All at once, warm light bathed the expansive entryway, devoid of any signs of living, but a grand space all the same. As promised, Beatrice’s furniture sat in place, though there wasn’t enough of it to fit a much bigger apartment. It all felt very empty. Beatrice tried (and failed) not to compare the state of it to the state of her life. 

 

Ava crossed the grand entrance, stopping in front of the floor to ceiling windows that overlooked an empty stretch of ocean. It was a particularly cliffy section of the coastline, quiet save for the occasional surfer with a death wish. After pausing for a moment to look at Ava, Beatrice ducked into the kitchen and found another surprise from Camila. An assortment of items covered the counter.

 

First, a note, which read: Let me know if you need anything. There’s food in the fridge and coffee for the morning. Only had time to move some of the bedroom furniture - nothing from the guest room. Good luck ;) 

 

“Fuck,” whispered Beatrice. Ava appeared in the doorway and Beatrice shoved the note into her pocket before Ava saw it.

“Is everything alright?” 

“Yes. Fine.” Ava lied. “Camila left a gift.”

“Oh?” Ava stepped forward, to look at what else was on the counter. 

 

There were two handguns, luxury 9mm models. Beside those, a set of keys for a Merc that was presumably in the parking lot. There was also a new phone, which Beatrice pocketed.

“Hm.” Beatrice picked up the keys. “Lilith must have talked to her guy.” 

“Her guy?” Ava asked. Her gaze was focused on the pistols, which Beatrice noticed but didn’t comment on. 

 

“Off the books car dealer. And thief. Repairman. Real jack of all trades type. Bit of a jerk but she keeps him in line.” Beatrice offered an explanation, then turned to the fridge. Knowing Camila, she should have been less surprised. There was a bottle of expensive champagne, plus an assortment of fancy cheese and fruit. “Christ.” Beatrice breathed, before shutting the door. She turned back to Ava, who finally managed to look away from the guns. 

 

“Are you alright?” 

“What are these for?” 

“Just in case.” Beatrice took a step closer to the counter. 

“Are you expecting trouble?” There was a glint in Ava’s eye as she asked, almost as if she wanted trouble. It was a look Beatrice knew well, it was one she’d seen in her friends year after year… And in the mirror.

 

“No, but I’m not going to let my guard down, either.” 

“Do you just live constantly on guard? All the time? Do you ever relax?” 

“No.” Beatrice sighed. “Not really.” She could feel her heartbeat through her whole body, painful and tiring. “Come on, you can have my bed for the night.” 

“Where are you going to sleep?” Ava didn’t move.

 

“Couch.” 

“What?” Ava protested. “Why? You’re hurt!”
“I’ve had worse.” Beatrice shook her head. “Not all my furniture is here yet.” 

“Then I’ll take the couch.” Ava was stubborn, as usual. 

“Ava. I’m not going to argue with you. Today you were so close to getting killed because of me.” It was hard to keep her voice even, but Beatrice didn’t want to fight.

 

“Too bad.” Ava suddenly moved, leaving the kitchen. “Just let me grab a pillow and maybe a blanket, and that’ll be it, okay?” 

“Ava…” Beatrice weakly replied, before following Ava into the bedroom. 

“Beatrice!” Ava gestured to the bed. “This bed is massive, we can just sleep together instead of having this stupid argument!”

 

And in Ava’s defence, it was a massive bed. But Beatrice wasn’t thinking logically in the slightest. It took her several seconds to reply, and even that was iffy.

“Are you… Sure…? I…”

“Yes, I’m sure.” Ava gave Beatrice an odd look of concern. “I’d like to give your injuries a once over in the light though, first.” After that, all Beatrice could manage was a nod. It was going to be a long night.

Chapter 13: would you walk away?

Summary:

Ava and Beatrice talk more. Ava asks a pointed question.

“How many injuries have you hidden from me over the years?” Ava asked as she cleaned Beatrice’s shoulder wound. The hurt in her face was unmistakable, and Beatrice added another bit of guilt to a pile she thought could grow no further. 

“More than I could count,” replied Beatrice in a whisper. “I’m sorry.” 

“It’s just hard not to feel stupid.” Ava shook her head, but stayed focused on Beatrice’s shoulder, not daring to make eye contact. “I should have noticed. I’m the one who should be apologising.” 

 

“Ava, no.” Another layer of guilt. “I went to great lengths to hide this part of my life from you.” 

“Yeah, but a friend should see through that.”

“Please. Don’t do this to yourself. If anyone should be apologising, it’s me.” 

“Is this… Is this at least the first time you’ve been shot?” Now Ava finally looked up from her work. There were tears in her eyes and Beatrice’s guilt truly knew no bounds.

 

“I don’t want to answer that…” 

“So, no, then.” 

“Do you remember Camila’s wedding?” Beatrice asked quietly. She, of course, remembered it well. It had been a summer wedding, warm and beautiful, at a vineyard. And Beatrice remembered Ava most of all. She wore a beautiful green dress, and the sun seemed to shine a little brighter on Ava than anyone else that day. To say Beatrice was distracted the entire time would have been a massive understatement. 

 

“Yes, why?” Ava raised an eyebrow. “I remember it being hot as hell, and I remember giving you a hard time because you wouldn’t do shots with me.” 

“Yes, you were very adamant about it.” Despite the circumstances, Beatrice couldn’t help but smile. 

“And I stand by that, I want to meet drunk Beatrice.” Ava returned said smile, and Beatrice felt herself blush. “But I’m confused what this has to do with anything?” 

 

Instead of immediately replying, Beatrice rolled up her pant leg, revealing a nasty scar on her calf, with a clearly defined entry and exit wound. Ava ran a hand over Beatrice’s leg, clearly unaware of the effect such an action would have on Beatrice. Breathing suddenly became more difficult than it already was in the tight bathroom. 

 

“This happened two days before the ceremony.” Beatrice finally managed. “Which is why I wore a suit.” 

“So I missed out on drunk Beatrice and the opportunity to see you in a dress?” Ava frowned. “The universe is cruel sometimes.” 

“I’m sure another event will come up.” 

 

“Is that why you didn’t want to take shots with me? Painkillers for your gunshot wound ?” Shaking her head, Ava continued. “I don’t remember you limping.” 

“Half the reason, yes. I’m not partial to getting drunk regardless, it can be dangerous.” Beatrice hated how boring she sounded, but she kept herself on an incredibly tight leash. An anxious, tense leash.

 

“That’s no fun.” Ava muttered as she covered Beatrice’s shoulder. “Who shot you that time? And why?” 

“I never knew his name. It was part of a territory grab that we all strongly discouraged Lilith from pursuing, Mary and Shannon especially. Their ceremony was interrupted by a rival, so it was a fair concern on their part.” Beatrice explained only the absolute basics, preferring to let Ava ask clarifying questions if she so desired. Despite Ava’s insistence that she wanted to know all the details, she had issues with some of the violence that Beatrice had experienced, though Beatrice didn’t understand why.

 

“In a way, it’s kind of cute. She was probably nervous and wanted the distraction.” Ava smiled, which Beatrice found odd. Lilith was not the kindest of souls, least of all to Ava, but still Ava found a way to see the best in people. It was a trait Beatrice definitely didn’t possess, no, she was far too sceptical.

“Definitely one way to see it, yes.” 

 

“I think it’s nice.” Ava shrugged in a way that suggested she cared much more than she was letting on… Though Beatrice tried not to read too much into Ava’s body language. In fact, the less she thought about Ava’s body, the better. “And I’ll have to live vicariously through others, given my recent explosion of a love life… Unless you have something to tell me?” The mischievous smirk on Ava’s face made Beatrice’s heart pound. 

 

“I’m single, Ava.” Sighing, Beatrice tried to match Ava’s mirth. “If that changes, I promise you’ll be the first to know.” 

“Maybe if you talked to more people instead of working all the time you could bring home a nice man?” Ava laughed, while Beatrice worked to hide a wince. “And then I could listen to you get nervous about him, instead of you listening to me flounder over… Just about everything.” 

 

“I can’t see that happening.” Beatrice wanted to scream, but instead kept her voice low. There was exactly one person that Beatrice had feelings for, and even though it was a complete impossibility, moving on felt impossible. In the back of Beatrice’s mind, there was always a small bit of hope, a hope that grew slightly brighter with JC out of the picture. “And I am nervous about other things, anyhow. I don’t have the capacity to be nervous about a partner on top of all that.” 

 

“You don’t ever seem nervous, though.” Ava mumbled. She was cleaning the excess blood from the scrapes that covered Beatrice’s arm. 

“There’s plenty that makes me nervous,” whispered Beatrice in reply. Just the contact between them was enough to make Beatrice feel as if her heart was in a blender. “I’m just… Bad at showing it.” 

 

“Yeah, I know!” Here Ava laughed, and Beatrice couldn’t help but at least smile. “Trying to get you to emote is like trying to coax an emotion out of a rock.”

“Okay, I know there was a near death experience earlier today but words still hurt.” Beatrice joked. It was impossible to be mad at Ava, even if her words hit a little bit too close to home. 

“Sorry, sorry.” She did not seem sorry at all. “I’m done.” Ava rose, packing away her medical supplies. “And I’ll be honest, I’d prefer not to do this again.” 

 

“Oh.” Beatrice immediately took this as an insult, and given Ava’s reply, the hurt was probably evident on her face. 

“Not like that!” Quick to amend, Ava continued. “I mean more in a ‘I’d prefer my best friend didn’t get hurt like this again’ way. This is not a healthy lifestyle.” 

“Oh. No. It’s definitely not.” Beatrice shrugged and rose, quickly reaching her new bedroom. “But I’m better off than most in this line of work.” 

 

“I feel like that’s not the most fair comparison, as in, most of them are dead… Or something like that.” Ava followed Beatrice into the bedroom as she spoke. 

“Well…” That was exactly where Beatrice was going. “Yes.” 

“Not to be dramatic, but I don’t want you to die.” 

“Nor do I intend to die.” Beatrice opened her dresser, which was somehow here now… Unlike her second bed. Camila was such a meddler. 

 

“That’s not like… A promise you can just make. ” Ava was beside her in a moment. As usual, her lack of respect for personal space made it hard for Beatrice to think. “Humans are fragile. I know. I see it everyday. It just takes one -” 

“Ava. I know.” Beatrice shook her head and picked out a few pieces of clothing for Ava to wear as pyjamas. “I’m not blind to the reality here, just… It’s complicated.” 

 

Wordlessly, Ava took the pyjamas from Beatrice’s too-tense grip, before retreating into the bathroom without a word. Unable to avoid feeling like she’d royally screwed up here, Beatrice quickly slipped into a clean outfit before Ava returned. With the burn of tears in her throat, Beatrice sat down on the edge of the bed. After a lifetime of making herself numb to the outside world, only now was it difficult. 

 

Sighing, Beatrice laid down, on top of the blankets. There were a million worries running through her mind, each one louder and faster than the last. Ava’s safety was her primary concern. How could she be protected? Would Ava even agree to any sort of precautionary measures? Probably not… Realistically, what could Beatrice do to keep her safe? It was a horrible feeling of inadequacy, one that Beatrice knew well. Too well. 

 

Her body ached. Beatrice put her hands over her face. The room was dim but it still felt entirely too bright. 

“Are you okay?” Ava asked suddenly, from beside her. Beatrice was startled, she’d been so trapped in her own mind that she didn’t hear Ava approach, nor did she feel the slight shift in the bed as Ava sat beside her. 

 

“I don’t know.” Lying felt like too much effort. And Beatrice didn’t want to lie anymore. But being truthful about her own humanity was somehow even more difficult than being honest about her crime-ridden past… And present… And future. “I don’t like how close you were to this. I feel guilty. Actually, guilty doesn’t feel like enough.” 

“And I feel guilty about not recognising the signs of your occupation.” 

 

“Those aren’t comparable.” Beatrice mumbled. 

“Maybe not.” Ava reached over to turn off the light, before gently laying down beside Beatrice. “But in my mind, they are. Today was a one off, a dangerous one off, sure, but I never doubted that you’d be there. But I’ve missed the signs of your suffering for years. ”

“My suffering?” 

 

“I mean, this isn’t a career for sane, well-adjusted people.” Ava paused, taking a deep breath as she did. She seemed infinitely more at ease, whereas Beatrice was painfully aware of every little detail. “And all these times I’ve been droning on about people at work I don’t like, or JC, or whatever… You’ve clearly been going through something.” 

“I don’t see it like that.” In truth, Beatrice always appreciated the normalcy that Ava brought to the table.

 

“I feel like we could argue in circles about this for hours.” 

“Yes, we could. You’re really stubborn.” 

“Oh. Oh!” Ava laughed and turned onto her side. In the dark, Beatrice could only make out a vague silhouette, which she would still recognise anywhere. “You’re one to talk!” 

“I’m not stubborn.” 

 

“That’s what a stubborn person would say.” 

“Oh my god.” Beatrice couldn’t help but chuckle at that. Ava had a way of taking the edge off that Beatrice admired and appreciated every time they interacted. “I don’t want to argue.” All at once, Beatrice grew more serious. She thought about what could have been, what could have happened if she’d been a few seconds slower. She also reflected, again, on the anger Beatrice felt she deserved from Ava. It was a massive secret that she’d kept for way too long… And not long enough. 

 

“Me neither. But I don’t have the energy for a serious conversation, either. Near death experiences are tiring.” Ava spoke with the cadence of a joke, but Beatrice got the innate sense that it wasn’t a joke at all.  

“We don’t need to talk at all, it’s okay.” Beatrice sighed. The feeling of Ava next to her, even without a single point of contact, was one that she’d never forget. “It’s late.” 

 

“You’re right.” Ava moved again, settling into a presumably more comfortable position. “Goodnight, Beatrice.” 

“Goodnight.” Beatrice felt odd. Ava’s presence beside her was undeniably anxiety-inducing. Simultaneously, it was the calmest she’d felt in months. “And tomorrow we need to make a plan about how you’re going to work and travel safely… And I’m deeply sorry that it’s a conversation we even need to have.” 

 

“And I’m sure there’s no way I can just tell you I’m fine, right?” Ava laughed again, but it felt less genuine than before. Hell, it almost sounded nervous. “I mean, they wouldn’t try to kill me a second time, would they?” 

“They would.” Two terrible, terrible, honest words.

“Oh.” 

“I’m sorry.” 

 

For several minutes, there was only silence. Beatrice focused on her own heartbeat, loud enough in her ears that she almost couldn’t hear Ava’s breathing. 

“Bea?”

“Yes?” 

“Would you walk away from all this if you could? I know… I know it’s not that easy. But if I could make a compelling case for it, maybe…?” Her words were laden with emotion, heartbreaking in a way Beatrice was unfamiliar with. 

 

“I would try.” But for Ava, Beatrice would do a lot more than try.

Chapter 14: A Loaded Proposition

Summary:

Ava and Beatrice talk about their options over coffee.

Notes:

sorry for being super slow to update lately. real life keeps getting in the way. i have so many ideas right now for all my WIPs (my notes app is overflowing) but my real life always pics the worst time to fall apart. sorry to anyone who is still reading this trash heap.

Beatrice had an unsurprisingly fitful night of sleep. Ava’s question kept echoing in her mind, and Beatrice couldn’t find an easy answer. In theory, walking away seemed easy. Safe. She could spend the rest of her life pursuing passions, perhaps with Ava by her side. No, she couldn’t even imagine that. The completely unrealistic imagination hurt too much. 

 

Despite all the imaginary good, there was a reality that couldn’t be ignored. An operator of Beatrice’s status wouldn’t be able to ‘just walk away.’ There were millions of dollars to be accounted for, territory to be claimed, and actions that needed to be answered for. Demanded for. And all that was still only half the battle. 

 

For as much calmness as Beatrice tried to project, she was anything but. There was a darkness in her that she resented, yet kept polished like a treasured possession. An anger, even, that fueled her disposition. It was a boon in her line of work, but it made normal life feel like an impossibility that was irrevocably out of reach. 

 

Somehow, she finally found slumber, next to Ava who had fallen asleep quickly and easily, hours prior. Beatrice was still jealous of that when she awoke in the morning to an empty bed. Her first reaction was panic - where was Ava? Had they gotten to her? The panic eased a moment later, when she heard the coffee machine turn on in the kitchen. Given the emptiness of the penthouse, the noise echoed louder than it might have otherwise. 

 

Sighing, Beatrice got up. Her body ached from the day prior, and she felt older than her birth certificate would suggest. She took a moment to brace herself both physically, and for the interaction with Ava. Any remaining shred of calm Beatrice once felt was completely tattered, and disguising her emotions was going to be a feat in itself. With only a few seconds of hesitation, Beatrice made the proverbial pilgrimage into the kitchen. 

 

“Camila thinks she’s hilarious, doesn’t she?” Ava laughed as she pulled the milk from the fridge for her coffee. “Such romantic food choices. And champagne! ”

“She definitely likes to play her games…” Beatrice commented dryly. “Good morning.” 

“Good morning.” Ava passed Beatrice a second mug across the beautiful marble countertop. “If I’d told her what JC said about us, I’d almost be annoyed at this.”

 

“You didn’t tell her?” Beatrice raised an eyebrow and took a sip of her coffee, black. For some reason, she’d assumed that everything Ava told her, she also told Camila. Otherwise, the teasing made less sense, why would Camila tease Beatrice about her crush on Ava without any context? It couldn’t be that obvious, it just couldn’t. 

“No. Did you?” 

 

“No.” Shaking her head, Beatrice continued. “Those are your secrets. They aren’t mine to tell.” 

“I have to assume you’re pretty good at secrets,” mumbled Ava with a grimace. Beatrice flinched, and an immediate look of regret crossed Ava’s face. “Sorry, sorry. That was harsh, I -”

“Not harsh. Warranted.” Beatrice intrejected. 

“Anyways, Camila is being dumb.” Ava tried to shrug off the bite but it wasn’t convincing. “You don’t even like women anyhow.” 

 

“Well…” Beatrice took another sip of coffee, to keep herself from saying anything else. 

“Well?” Ava leaned forward slightly. It was an almost imperceptible movement, but Beatrice had a keener eye than most.

“I don’t think I’ve ever said I don’t.” It was as non-committal an answer as she could muster. 

“Interesting… Go on.” Ava’s stare was overwhelming in the best way, but Beatrice still felt her anxiety blossom by the minute. 

 

“There isn’t much else to add,” commented Beatrice with what she thought was a neutral expression. “All those times I told you that I didn’t really have time for a relationship, well, those weren’t a lie. I didn’t. I don’t. The who is irrelevant.” 

“I don’t think it’s irrelevant.” Ava was clearly working to appear at ease, but Beatrice could see the tension in her body, in her hand even, where it gripped the mug. 

 

“I do. It’s dangerous to bring people into my life, Ava.” Beatrice’s voice cracked on Ava’s name, making her feelings seem just a little more obvious. “Eventually you wore me down, but this is why I didn’t want to be friends with you! Not because I don’t like you, but because it makes me sick to think about you being in danger! And now… Well, now I’ve really fucked up, haven’t I?” Midway through speaking, Beatrice’s words rose in pitch, then dropped back down into a whisper. 

 

“You’ll call me stupid for this, but I’m happy I know.” And Ava didn’t seem to be lying, she smiled as she spoke, then took a sip of coffee before continuing. “Camila doesn’t seem to have the same reservations about being friends with me, so…”

“Camila and I think about this differently. Also, in fairness, it’s not completely comparable between us.”

 

“How so?” 

“I have a lot more enemies. While Camila has quite the impressive resume, a large part of her crimes were conducted behind closed doors. I cannot say the same for myself.”

“That sounds… Dramatic.” Ava frowned. “And concerning.” 

“I know. That’s why I’m telling you to be concerned. The last thing I want for you is to be in danger.” 

 

“Have you considered that I might not want you in danger either?” Ava countered with a salient point, valid, even if Beatrice didn’t want to consider it. 

“Ava. Even if I walked away right now, I’d be hunted down and killed.”

“Well I just can’t accept that.” To underscore her point, Ava set down her mug and crossed her arms. 

“You’ve always been stubborn,” muttered Beatrice. She smiled, just slightly, unable to contain herself. 

 

“Like you can talk.” Ava shook her head, unyielding. “What happens now?”

“I find a way to keep you safe.” 

“What about yourself? Your friends?” 

“I can take care of myself, as can my friends. But what happened yesterday… That cannot happen again.” Beatrice ground her teeth together. 

 

“Yeah. You’re more stubborn than me. I need to go to work. Is that alright?” 

“I would prefer if you stayed here or came to work with me, but I have a feeling that won’t happen.” Beatrice knew she was stubborn, but Ava was no walk in the park either. And it was becoming increasingly clear that, despite what happened yesterday, Ava wasn’t taking this as seriously as she should. 

 

“No. It won’t. I’m not going to call out and screw over my rotation.” Ava picked her mug back up, appearing unbothered. “We’re already short-staffed and I’m working a double. Some of us still have bills to pay.” 

“If I give you a million dollars, will you call out sick?” Beatrice was being completely serious, but Ava only laughed. 

 

“No.” She paused here, chuckling. “I made a commitment. And I’m an adult, I don’t need you to take care of me.” 

“It’s more of a bribe.” 

“I don’t take bribes.” Ava paused, then asked a question. “Wait, have you ever bribed anyone before?” 

“Yes. Cops mostly.” Beatrice answered honestly, relieved to be able to do so. 

 

“It sounds so cool when you say it.” Ava smiled in a way that only served to worry Beatrice. In being honest, it was possible she made this life sound too attractive… 

“It’s not cool.”

“You sound like a parent right now. You sound like a parent telling their kid that drinking isn’t cool. Or smoking. Or partying, or… Whatever.” 

 

“Look.” Beatrice had to work hard to stay serious. Ava made it incredibly difficult to keep her walls up. “It’s complicated. I know I keep saying that, but I feel like you’re not taking this seriously. Sure, there is a lot to love about this, but let’s not forget that my career choice nearly got you killed yesterday. And since you don’t seem to want to take any protective measures, I feel like we are at a painful impasse here.” 

 

“What do you want me to say, Beatrice?” Ava finally, finally, displayed some understanding of the gravity of the situation. Of course, Beatrice didn’t feel that grateful for it. “Do you want me to just pack up my entire life and hide away in your fucking penthouse? I already lost JC, I can’t lose my job too. There won’t be anything of myself left!” 

“Which is precisely why I feel so guilty… Although you are more than just your ex-fiancé and you are more than just your career.” 

 

“Maybe so.” Ava sighed. There was something more here, so Beatrice decided to press just a bit. 

“What is it, really, that’s bothering you about this?” 

“I don’t want to be a burden.” The words hung heavy in the air. It took a minute for Beatrice to reply. There was no easy solution for either of them, Ava was implicated now in a way that couldn’t easily be erased. Sure, she hadn’t actually committed any crimes, but Beatrice had, and other syndicates would use this as leverage. 

 

“You’re not. Not to me.” Shaking her head, Beatrice continued. She had to be careful not to make her feelings too plain, but simultaneously make sure that Ava that she would never be a burden. “I will make this right.” 

“How?” There was a hopefulness in Ava’s voice that made Beatrice’s heart ache. 

“I… I will find a way to walk away.” 

 

“Again, how?” Ava’s anxieties about the situation were on full display. It was a rarity that Beatrice hoped to never see again… But had a feeling she would.

“I don’t know… I don’t know.” Beatrice pressed the heels of her palms into her eyes, in some idiotic hope that this would help her think more clearly. It did not. She opened her eyes a moment later, revealing a slightly fuzzy, but still beautiful, Ava. “It’s complicated, but at the same time, it’s very simple.” 

 

“Please explain.” Ava softened slightly as she asked. 

“Well, I can abandon you and hope that you are left alone. This is unlikely, and I couldn’t stomach it. I could walk away and take everyone with me, including you. Not only would that mean everyone has to agree, but it also means that there will be deadly threats hanging over us for years. We would be able to defend ourselves against most threats, but it only takes one.” Logically, Beatrice worked through her thoughts. 

 

“There has to be another option.” 

“Yes. Loose ends need to be tied up. There needs to be no one left to come after us. After me… After you.”

“Why does that seem like a loaded proposition?” Ava raised an eyebrow. She was finding an understanding of the criminal world a little faster than Beatrice would have preferred. 

“Because it is.”

 

Now it was Ava’s turn to be silent. Beatrice stared at the countertop, tracing every vein of marble with her eyes, wishing it could be even a little bit distracting. 

“I want to help.” Ava finally announced. Beatrice opened her mouth to protest, but Ava cut her off. “And I know what you’re going to say. Oh, Ava, that’s too dangerous. No Ava, sit at home and be useless. ” 

 

“I wouldn’t have phrased it like that…” 

“Phrasing aside, I want to help. I know you’ll take all the blame for this, but I can’t help but feel like my absolutely stupidity comes into play here. And besides that, I hate the way I can so easily be used as leverage against you.”

“Why?” Beatrice was more surprised than she probably should have been.

 

“Beatrice. You literally threw yourself from a moving car to protect me yesterday. What’s next? A bullet?” Ava’s point had some weight to it, Beatrice would take a dozen bullets if it meant keeping Ava safe. 

“If that’s what it takes.”

“Okay, see, this is why I’m concerned.” 

 

“This is such a circular argument.” Beatrice buried her face in her hands, groaning as she did. Her bones ached. “I’ll find a way for you to help if it’ll make you feel better. Hell, next time I get shot I’ll let you pull the bullet out.” 

“I know you think that’s a funny reply, but I don’t.” Ava stepped forward, until she was just across the island from Beatrice. “If you keep being difficult then I’ll be the one shooting you.” 

 

“Don’t let Mary hear you say that or she’ll try to recruit you.” Beatrice tried to joke, but even the thought of it made her feel sick. 

“Maybe I will.” Ava winked. Beatrice wanted to vomit. Typical Ava.

Chapter 15: A Job

Summary:

Beatrice has three crucial conversations.

Notes:

honestly i kind of just pooped this chapter out, no proof read as usual, in like a hour. if its bad, its bad, but i needed to bridge to what happens next. sorry if you guys hate it.

“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.”

Chapter 16: Mafiosa

Summary:

Ava and Beatrice have dinner together. And talk.

Notes:

do i still need to say 'no proofread' or do yall get thats the vibe by this point?

“There is no way in hell I’d consider working with him again.” Shannon crossed her arms, rightfully aghast at Vincent’s request. 

“Seconded.” Mary muttered, disdain clear. 

“I figured that’s what we’d all say.” Beatrice held up her hands. “Don’t shoot the messenger.” 

“So you didn’t get any information of note, then?” Lilith asked. 

 

“No.” Pausing, Beatrice considered the conversation once more. “Well… It was odd. Vincent has always been such a weasel. His sudden refusal to be bought or threatened is… Interesting.” 

“Maybe there’s a reason.” Camila was typing away at her computer, not bothering to look up as she replied. “Monetary, perhaps.”

“I think he misses it.” Beatrice closed her eyes for a moment, and thought of the man she’d been sitting across from. It was hard to walk away, even with what he’d been through. 

 

“It’s possible,” mumbled Mary. She shot a knowing look at Beatrice.

“Are you worried he could become a threat?” Lilith asked another pointed question. 

“It’s not likely but it’s always possible. I don’t want to assume anything. He’s still getting information from somewhere, which always makes him a concern, at least.” Beatrice couldn’t help but think of Ava as she spoke. 

 

“I’ll keep my eyes out for a money trail, just in case.” Pushing her chair back, Camila rubbed her eyes. “But I think we should all consider calling it a night, it’s late.” A quick glance down at her watch confirmed Camila’s statement - it was well after midnight. 

“Good plan.” Shannon agreed quickly, and lifted her coat from the back of her chair. 

“Oh, Beatrice!” Camila grinned as she spoke. “You’ll be pleased to know that the rest of your furniture was moved.” 

 

“You are unbelievable.” Still, Beatrice couldn’t help but smile. 

“Ah, see! I’m doing God’s work here. Truly.” Camila extended a hand for Lilith, a casual and almost thoughtless show of affection, that Beatrice knew she longed for but could never have. “I expect an invite to the wedding.” And with that, she was gone, as were Shannon and Mary. Either that was fast, or Beatrice was thinking way too slow.

 

“There’s not going to be a wedding…” She whispered to herself in the now-empty office. Sighing, then wincing with the motion, Beatrice retrieved her jacket and made her way downstairs. Her drive ‘home’ was quiet, she didn’t listen to music, no, just the fine hum of an expensive engine. Even with the heat cranked, her body still ached. It made her feel old. By the time she made it back to the penthouse, she was thoroughly exhausted. 

 

With her eyes closed, Beatrice leaned against the back of the door the moment after she closed it. Thrill aside, the injuries were beginning to pile up, maybe it was time -

“Long day?” Ava stood in the doorway, startling a rarely startled Beatrice. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.” 

“What are you doing back? I thought you were working a double?”

 

“I did…” There was a clear concern in Ava’s features, which Beatrice immediately disliked. “It’s one o’clock.” 

“Oh…” Beatrice did the mental math. She was an idiot. “Right.” 

“Are you alright? I picked up dinner on my way, if you’re hungry?” Ava gestured towards the main sitting room, which looked out at the dark ocean. It was such a kindness, and Beatrice couldn’t help but feel undeserving.

 

Following Ava revealed the moodily lit room, complete with a dressed table against the window. Of course, this was Ava, so on the table cloth there were two pizza boxes and a container of garlic knots. Still, Beatrice was touched. 

“Very romantic,” she teased, while trying not to sound so serious. 

“Well, I figured I’d lean into Camila’s joke with this one.” Ava replied as she sat down, although there was an edge of tension in her voice. “So… How was work?” 

 

“Fine.” Beatrice picked up a slice of pizza and quickly realised she was absolutely starving. 

“More details, please.” Ava grinned. There was a smear of pizza sauce above her upper lip, which was oddly endearing. Beatrice forced her attention immediately away from Ava’s lips. “I know you’re a made woman, now, remember.”

“I know, but the details still… I don’t know.” 

 

“How about I tell you about my day, and maybe you’ll warm up to it,” suggested Ava. She was clearly trying to make conversation, an effort that, once again, Beatrice didn’t feel worthy of. Why bother? Slowly, Beatrice nodded, so Ava continued. “Right. So I moved back to the ER today, which is fun. It’s busy but we always have a great time. I think it’s the trauma, honestly, but the teamwork is top notch because everything is so critical. Plus, less time for drama.” 

 

“I understand what you mean.” Beatrice quietly commented. “It seems stressful, though.”

“Mmm… Yes and no. A lot of the time, it’s all happening so quickly that you don’t have time to stress. Just react, react, react all day. Then the shift is over.” 

“That makes sense.” Beatrice nodded and Ava looked at her expectantly. 

“Okay, now your turn to share.” Clearly she wasn’t letting Beatrice off the hook that easily. 

 

“We were just following up on some loose ends before our next operation.” 

“That’s awfully vague.” Ava leaned forward slightly in her chair. Guilty and conflicted, Beatrice looked away, out towards the dark and violent sea. 

“An enemy of ours has a money laundering front that we intend to rob and destroy.” Beatrice was harshly blunt. Maybe this would make Ava realise that Beatrice wasn’t a good person and this was serious business, not something to trifle with. 

 

“Why?” 

“Because they’re trying to eliminate us… They tried to kill you.”

“Why though?” Ava chuckled under her breath, despite the circumstances. “Sorry, not to sound like a toddler just asking ‘why’ over and over again. But why eliminate you?” 

“That’s just… How it works.” Beatrice realised at once that it sounded stupid. Maybe it was stupid. “The more syndicates there are in a city, the less money and power each one has. So eliminating competition is only natural.” 

 

“I see…” Ava took another bite of pizza before continuing. “Don’t really feel like my involvement in this is enough to warrant such an attack though.” 

“Well, I feel differently.”

“Oh.” Even in the dim room, Beatrice could see a blush creep across Ava’s cheeks. “Will it be dangerous? Is that a stupid question?” 

 

“Not a stupid question.” Beatrice was quick to assure her. “The better we do our jobs, the less dangerous it will be. But say, hypothetically, that we had a mole. Someone who knew our plan. That would change everything. It’d be an ambush.” 

“This doesn’t sound that hypothetical.” Ava was not, as she seemed to think lately, stupid. “Has this happened before?” 

“Yes.” 

“Tell me about it?” And how could Beatrice say no to a request like that? To a face like that?

 

“Fine, fine.” Beatrice pretended to be annoyed, and even smiled. Despite all the weight on her shoulders, time like this with Ava always made her feel lighter. Maybe that’s why she could never fully distance herself, despite the clear danger of being close. “When we were still trying to make our initial power grab, we had a contact. A ‘connector,’ of sorts.” 

“What’s a connector?” 

 

“Someone who can get you in touch with other families, or the police, or shuttle money… Basically someone who can get you whatever you need, outside of the law, of course.” 

“Of course,” agreed Ava. It was clear she was hanging on every word. 

“There was a warehouse, he told us, at the far edge of town. It was a base of operations for a rival, a key target on our radar. According to him, this was where they planned everything, and stored massive caches of drugs and weapons.” 

 

“But…” 

“But he sold us out to them.” Beatrice shook her head. It was still a painful memory, even after all this time. “He was trying to gain their favour, and we nearly lost everything… We still lost a lot.” 

“What happened?” Ava’s gaze was firmly fixed on Beatrice, which made it significantly harder to focus. Of course, Ava didn’t seem to notice the effect she was having. 

 

“Well, there used to be more than five of us.”

“Oh.”

“But we still were successful, despite heavy losses. The odds were beyond stacked against us, to this day I’m not sure how we made it out alive. I still remember turning around in the blood soaked car seat and watching the warehouse burn.”

 

“Christ.” Ava continued to stare.

“We vowed that night never to expand our rank again. The losses hurt too much. Any supplemented numbers we need come from Mary’s security firm. That’s it.” Aware of how harsh she sounded, Beatrice took a deep breath and tried to calm her nerves.

“What happened to this ‘connector?’ Is he still alive?” 

 

“His name is Vincent.” Immediately, Beatrice wondered if she should have revealed his name. “He is still alive, although I constantly wonder if he should be… I saw him today, actually.” 

“Why?!” Ava’s voice cracked on a single word. With worry? Fear? Unsure, Beatrice was slow to answer. 

“I… Needed information.” 

 

“That sounds awfully dangerous… Did you at least get what you were looking for?” 

“No.” Beatrice frowned. “I… I don’t know. This isn’t an excuse, but I feel a little… Slow today. I didn’t handle my interaction with him in the best way.”

“Yeah, I think that little hop out of the car might’ve affected you more than you’ve allotted for.” Ava’s concern bled through, clear as day. Beatrice’s instinct, frustrating as it was, was to shy away from any sort of care.

 

“What do you mean by that? More than I’ve allotted for?” 

“I mean… Okay, please know I am saying this with respect. But you really don’t allow yourself any time to heal… Consider the injuries of the last week, and tell me exactly what you’ve done to relax?” At the end of her sentence, the corner of Ava’s mouth turned upwards into a smile, she knew she was right. In reply, Beatrice remained silent, instead waiting for Ava to speak once more. 

 

“Exactly. So what happened with this ‘Vincent’ character?”

“I threatened him. He made it clear that he knew something but wouldn’t speak to more than that. He’s quite the weasel, and there’s always a price with him… But today? Today he couldn’t be bought… But I should have positioned myself differently, or waited for him to leave… I could have made myself more of a threat than I did.” 

 

“To be honest, it’s hard to imagine you being that threatening.” Ava’s dark eyes were fixed on Beatrice. Even as her exhaustion reached new levels, Beatrice still found the energy to be nervous. Sighing, she leaned back in her chair, and pulled the concealed handgun from within her blazer. She laid it on the table, beside her pizza. From her belt, she retrieved a second, smaller pistol, which she also revealed. Finally, she pulled the knife holster from her calf, and set that down as well. 

 

“How about now?” Beatrice quietly asked. She watched intently as Ava’s gaze settled on the array of weapons. Part of her desperately wanted to scare Ava off - it would be safer that way. The other part wanted Ava close, wanted her to accept this violent reality, and the violence of Beatrice herself. 

“Still no.” Ava finally replied after a quiet few seconds. “You just look tired.” 

 

“I am tired.” 

“I know.”  Ava reached a cautious hand across the table, laying it over Beatrice’s. “When does my mafiosa get to rest?” Beatrice was almost certain that Ava said ‘my’ in a casual way, but being referred to as such still made Beatrice’s heart skip a beat. Considering all she’d done, all she’d been through, this was shocking.

 

“Soon, Ava.” Beatrice exhaled slowly, and tried to strengthen her resolve. “Soon.”

Chapter 17: Don't Be Angry

Summary:

Beatrice's day off doesn't go as planned.

Notes:

well, we've reached the point where i hate the fic

Beatrice woke with a gasp. Deep orange light was dappled across the room. What time was it? Bleary, she looked at her watch. Past four. 

“Christ,” mumbled Beatrice. She never slept this late. Slowly rising, she noticed a folded note on her bedside table, labelled with her name in a handwriting she recognised at once. With a wince, Beatrice reached out and retrieved the paper. 

 

Okay! Don’t be mad. I feel like you’re still going to be mad. You just seemed so tired (and lowkey old) last night that I felt like you needed the rest. Call it an executive decision. I called Camila and told her you weren’t going to be at ‘work.’ We actually had a very interesting conversation about your habits, inability to rest, and just general disposition. Really good stuff. We can go over it later. I’m sure you’ll be thrilled. Anyways, please rest. I will back from work late, but don’t stay up if you don’t feel like it. No worries. 

 

- Ava

 

PS; Your phone is wrapped in a bunch of towels in the kitchen. Didn’t know the password to turn off your alarm. DON’T BE MAD.

 

Was Beatrice mad? She laid the note down and slowly sat up. Ava’s intentions were as pure as anything, it was hard to be too angry with a woman like that. Her looks certainly didn’t hurt, either, nor did Beatrice’s genuine exhaustion. Lacking any definitive anger, then, Beatrice got up. She slowly made her way to the shower. The warm water felt like an almost religious experience, even where it stung against her injuries. 

 

Somewhat rejuvenated, Beatrice dressed herself anew and retrieved her phone. It was, as promised, wrapped in a ball of towels. The alarm was also going off. She also had several missed texts. A younger, harder version of herself might have been annoyed, but Beatrice only smiled. Ava’s care was childish at times, sure, but Beatrice felt humbled by the growing closeness. 

 

After turning off her alarm, Beatrice set the device on the counter, intent on making a cup of tea. Hopefully that would shake off the last of the tiredness. Her mind quickly wandered as she moved through well-practised routine, and wander quickly fell upon worry. Would her friends be angry with her absence? What if something happened? Was Ava okay? By the time Beatrice lifted the tea to her lips, her sleepy calm was completely gone. But maybe that was for the best…

 

Sighing, Beatrice picked her phone back up. Ava said no work, which she intended to honour, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t go through her work-related messages… And maybe run through some files here at home. That barely counted, anyhow! Hell, Beatrice would even sit on the couch as she did it. Just as she unlocked her phone, the device began to ring.

 

“Ava?” Beatrice answered on the first ring. “Is everything alright?” It wasn’t the most cordial way to answer the phone, but Beatrice had a bad feeling and she’d learned to trust her gut a long time ago. 

“Vincent is here.” Ava didn’t bother with a preamble, and Beatrice was happy that she didn’t. Her blood turned to ice, this was beyond bad. “Hurt. Like he was stabbed.” 

 

“Fuck.” Beatrice was moving immediately. Car keys. Gun. Knife. Second gun. Jacket. Third gun. “How do you know it’s him?”

“Well, I didn’t. He must have recognised me. He said ‘you must be Ava.’” Ava didn’t seem too freaked out, which frustrated Beatrice to no end. As she replied, she ran out into the hall, making a beeline for the elevator. 

 

“And?” Beatrice prompted. She hammered the elevator button. Alone, she put Ava on speaker for a moment so she could text her friends. If her paranoia was right, Beatrice would need the backup.

“Well, he did get stabbed a few times, so… He might die. But he said to warn you, but passed out before he said what to warn you about.”

 

“I need you to get somewhere safe.” The elevator finally made it to the parking garage. She didn’t pick the fastest car, but rather a little luxury hot hatch - something she could whip around corners as she ran for the hospital. “And find a weapon. Then send me your location so I can find you when I get there.” 

“Bea…” Ava trailed off, and Beatrice needed a near act of god to focus on driving. Bea? Really? “How worried should I be?” 

 

“I won’t let anything happen to you.” Beatrice was already ripping across her neighbourhood. There was too much traffic on the freeway at this time of day, she’d have to take the surface streets. “But generally in my line of work, when someone gets stabbed like that… Well, someone will be along to finish the job. And if Vincent knows what you look like…” She trailed off. The possibilities made her sick.

 

“Right.” Ava sounded nervous now, and Beatrice felt her guilt multiply. “And all that security Mary sent over?” 

“Might be able to stop them.” Beatrice swung the car into a slide, then sped northwards towards the hospital. “Might not. It only takes one.”

“Okay. Understood. Find a weapon. Hide. Like a baby.” 

 

“Not like a baby. Like someone who wants to stay alive.” In the background of the call, Beatrice heard a siren go off. “What was that?” 

“Um… Lockdown alarm…” Ava sounded out of breath. Beatrice hoped she was running away from danger, and not doing anything stupid. “I need to hang up. We have procedures to follow.”

“Ava!” Beatrice shouted into the disconnected call. Frustrated, she gripped the steering wheel tighter and sped up. 

 

Five minutes later, she skidded into the parking lot. Everyone else was already there, a small array of too-fancy cars. 

“Here.” Shannon tossed Beatrice a police badge. Fake, but convincing. “Adriel’s men hit in force, we’ve lost a few men already. Vincent’s in the ER, on the third floor.” She started towards the building, and everyone followed, at speed. “We need to move quickly. Police reinforcements will be here in a few minutes and I don’t want to have to talk our way out of this one.” 

 

Just as Shannon concluded, they reached the side door. Two scared-looking security guards moved to stop them. Mary held up her badge, and nodded, before unholstering her weapon. As it usually was, this was more than enough to get them in the door. 

“Shit,” whispered Mary, just inside the stairwell. They were greeted with a dead member of their security force, leaning up against the wall in a splatter of blood. 

 

“Let’s get upstairs.” Camila breathed, while screwing a silencer to the end of her pistol. “I’d really like to get to Vincent before they kill him.” 

“Did you say anything to him that would have made him a target?” Lilith asked Beatrice as they took the stairs at a run. 

“Not that I’m aware of. No information of consequence was shared at all.” Beatrice could barely focus on anything other than her worry for Ava, the conversation with Vincent was difficult to recall. 

 

“We’ll focus on that after we secure the floor.” Mary stated as they reached the third floor. She paused at the door for just a moment. There was blood seeping beneath the threshold. How welcoming. 

“Fan out.” Shannon put her hand on the doorknob. “Room by room, and keep disciplined. This is still a hospital, remember.”

 

There was no more conversation beyond that. She threw the door open. One of Adriel’s men was in the hallway, but Mary quickly shot him down. Beatrice turned left, and immediately started checking rooms. Some were locked or barricaded, but most were open. First few beds had patients, but they were unattended. Holding her breath, Beatrice continued around the corner. 

 

Here she met one of their own men, who she shared a nod with. His presence gave her the slightest bit of confidence that this wasn’t a total loss yet, so she pressed on. The next several rooms were completely empty though, which was frustrating. Every second spent checking an empty room was a second that Ava was… Somewhere. She never sent her location. 

 

Speeding up more than was probably safe, Beatrice made a beeline for the nurses’ station. Her grip on her gun was painfully tight, but it was all that was keeping her grounded right now. Running the last several feet to the nurses’ station, Beatrice saw another of Adriel’s men step out of a nearby room. He clearly saw her, too. On instinct, Beatrice slid, making herself a smaller target as she took a shot in his direction. A bullet took off a corner of the countertop, but she heard his body fall to the ground a moment later.

 

There were a few nurses hiding beneath the counter, though frustratingly Ava was not among them. Beatrice flashed them her fake badge, and they all nodded in terrified silence. She took a quick peak above the counter, before ducking back down.

“I’m looking for Vincent, do you know what room he’s in?” Beatrice spoke in a hoarse whisper. “He was just admitted today.” 

It took a moment for any of them to speak, but finally Beatrice got a whispered, “...Room 329.”

“Great.” Beatrice immediately rose. “My lucky number.” 

 

Somewhat renewed by having a specific target, Beatrice moved quickly. 329 was at the end of the next hall, so she had a decent amount of ground to cover. This was definitely a busier section of the hospital, there were scattered machines and debris, clearly left as visitors and nurses tried to hide. 

 

She paid for the reckless speed a moment later, as a bullet zipped past her head and blew a hole in the drywall. Ducking into the closest room, she waited as another piece of the wall blew away, then the door jamb. All the while, a family and their ailing father laid in the hospital bed. Beatrice gave them an awkward, stout nod, before stepping back over the threshold and shooting her assailant. 

 

Even after that close call, she couldn’t remain cautious. She broke into a full run, desperate to find Ava. At the end of the hall, she slid to a stop on the tiles. The door was locked, but Beatrice kicked it down without a second thought. Vincent laid in the bed, unmoving, and one of Adriel’s men laid dead on the floor. Surely Vincent didn’t get up and do that himself, right? Beyond the lack of consciousness, he looked horrible and pale. Something wasn’t adding up here. Beatrice saw something move in the corner of her eye, and reacted quickly, catching her assailant’s arm before the weapon could reach her… Then she realised who’s weapon it was.

 

With nimble, well-practised speed, Beatrice pulled Ava into herself. There was a clear panic in Ava’s movements, which became much more obvious once Beatrice had her arms around her. Ava’s breaths were quick and harsh, her muscles shook, and she kicked her legs for a moment, not immediately realising that it was Beatrice who was holding her.

 

“It’s me, Ava. It’s just me.” Beatrice whispered. She was working extremely hard to swallow her own adrenalised anxieties, to be the most calming force she could be. Given Beatrice’s general disposition and personality, this wasn’t the easiest of tasks. 

“Oh.” Ava’s breathing slowed slightly. “Beatrice.” She sounded far away. Gently, Beatrice put a hand on each of Ava’s shoulders and turned her around. 

 

“Ava, don’t…” Beatrice stopped talking as she realised what happened. Between the bloody scalpel in Ava’s hand, to the dead man on the floor… Well, that wasn’t a difficult equation to solve. Beatrice’s guilt became fully unbound in that moment. A second stretched into eternity, painfully heartbreaking. This had been her fault, entirely. Ava might’ve survived, but Beatrice was still…

 

Too late.

Chapter 18: Stained

Summary:

Beatrice and Ava talk

Notes:

happy holidays

“We need to get him out of here.” Beatrice kept a hand on Ava, but spoke to her team in hushed tones. The police would be there very, very soon. They needed to decide on a course of action immediately. Of course, focusing on anything other than Ava was borderline impossible, but Beatrice was nothing if not good at compartmentalising. “He might die, but he also might know something.” 

 

“Can she…” Mary trailed off, while looking at Ava, who stayed focused on the ground. Beatrice only shook her head. “Okay. Understood. I will call our usual guy.” 

“He doesn’t need to be kept alive forever.” Shannon was harsh, but not wrong. She had every right to maintain a grudge. “Just long enough to see what he knows.”

“Got it.” Mary was rapidly typing into her phone.

 

“And we need a story for the police.” Camila paced across the room. “Or a really good bribe.”

“Both, probably.” Lilith ran a hand through her hair. “I can arrange the money, but this cannot be traced back to us under any circumstances.” Everyone’s eyes fell on the continually oblivious Ava. “And that means some things… Might need to change.”

“I’ll… Take care of broaching that topic…” Beatrice wanted to vomit. She could feel the stickiness of blood on Ava’s hand - against hers. The upcoming conversations between them were going to be more than difficult. 

 

Fresh sirens pierced the air. “We need to move.” Shannon callously unplugged Vincent’s various monitors and IVs. “Don’t die, Vinny.” 

“Vinny.” Lilith shook her head as they pushed the hospital bed into the empty hallway. “Christ.” 

“We’ll load him into the back of my Range. Hopefully he doesn’t die on the way.” Mary pressed her fist against the elevator button. “And we’ll need to keep him somewhere hidden, obviously.” 

 

“I’m not totally sure I trust the office.” Beatrice muttered. She all but pushed Ava into the elevator as the doors opened. “Maybe the safehouse…”

“Safehouse.” Camila nodded. “It’s as far off the books as it can be… But you’ve got other things to worry about, Beatrice.” She added, with a nod that wouldn’t have been subtle if Ava was anything other than catatonic.

 

“Yeah. That.” 

“It’ll be okay.” Camila wrapped a hand around Beatrice’s shoulder. “I think you already know what needs to be said, you just might have trouble saying it.” 

“Right.” Beatrice nodded. The elevator reached the ground floor. Police were just entering the front door, loud as always, as they slipped out via the loading dock. 

 

“Camila and I will take care of the cops.” Lilith announced once they reached the vehicles. “And I’ll try to keep the bribe as low as possible. I know we’re a little less liquid than usual right now.” 

“Perfect.” Shannon all but shoved an unconscious Vincent into the back of Mary’s Range Rover. “We’ll call the doctor and take care of our old friend, then we’ll all rendezvous at the safe house.” 

 

All too soon, Beatrice was alone with Ava, who might as well have been an imaginary friend. As quick as she could, too aware of the growing police presence, Beatrice manoeuvred Ava into the passenger seat of her car, before ripping out of the parking lot and onto the main street. It was dark now, but the evening’s traffic was far from over. Desperate to keep moving, Beatrice used as much brain power as she could on figuring out the most efficient route out of the city proper… It wasn’t a very good distraction.

 

Ava didn’t speak in the entire hour it took to drive to the safe house. Instead, she stayed completely still, and stared out the window. Beatrice snuck constant looks, hoping for something , only to be met with a terrified-looking woman in bloodstained scrubs. God, she really fucked up. With a heavy sigh, Beatrice pulled up to the gate, entered the code, and quickly drove through. No one else was here yet. 

 

Still moving fast, almost shaky, Beatrice exited the vehicle and quickly opened Ava’s door, extending a hand. “Come on. Let’s talk.” Once again silent, Ava did at least take Beatrice’s hand, and allow herself to be led into the expansive backyard. It was overkill for a safehouse, with a pool, decorated with intricate stonework and lights, but Shannon had insisted when they bought it. 

 

Anxious, Beatrice released Ava’s hand and took a few steps forward, scooping up a handful of freezing salt water and splashing it on her face. She shivered as several drops rolled down her neck and soaked the collar of her shirt, but it helped bring her back to earth. She needed to be strong and level headed right now. For Ava.

 

“He would have killed Vincent if you didn’t do anything.” Beatrice finally addressed the elephant in the room, though she stared at the reflective surface of the water, instead of at Ava. “He would have killed you both.”

“I know.” Finally, finally, Ava spoke. Two scratchy, hoarse, words, sure, but it was something. 

“You saved his life.”

 

“What is that worth?” Ava walked across the stone patio, stopping at the other end of the pool, and facing Beatrice with tears in her eyes. “This is the same man who sold you out.” 

“I know that. But… It’s complicated.” Beatrice hated her reply, but it wasn’t necessarily wrong. 

“It’s always complicated. ” Ava frowned, and a tear fell from her face and darkened the fabric of her shirt. The pool water glistened beneath them, freezing but oddly welcoming.

 

“I’m sorry, I -”

“Please. Don’t apologise.” Ava held up a bloodstained hand. It shook. She sounded angry. “You give me minimal details, and all I really know is how much I don’t know… Today, I killed a man. I killed someone, Beatrice. Do you get how awful that is?! In my line of work, especially?!” 

 

Oddly, Beatrice was happy to see the life and emotion in Ava, even if it was negative. Even if it was directed at her. Remaining silent, Beatrice only watched as Ava continued. 

“I killed him because he was going to kill me and Vincent if I didn’t.” Her voice dropped back down, hard to hear. “Vincent betrayed you… He almost got you killed. I’m not sure that’s the kind of man I’m willing to kill for.”

“You don’t need to be willing to kill at all. I’m sorry it came to this.” 

 

“Who am I to choose?” Here, Ava’s emotions became more complex and less pointed. “What gives me the right to kill? Just because they were going to kill first? That’s some sick, sick math.”

“It is.” Beatrice closed her eyes for a moment. There was a lot of blood on her hands, more than Ava even knew, but probably could imagine. 

 

Now it was Ava’s turn to stay silent. Beatrice took a ragged breath.

“Maybe this isn’t what you want to hear, but your actions today may save us in the long run.” Was this really a comfort? Beatrice wasn’t sure. “Vincent likely has information that will help us take down Adriel. For good.”

“I’m not sure that excuses it… I can’t go back to work ever again, can I? At least, not there?” 

 

“No. Probably not.” If nothing else, Beatrice’s answer was honest. Ava’s face still fell.

“Fuck,” whispered Ava. She gingerly unclipped her ID from her pocket, and hurled it into the pool. “Fuck!” 

“Ava, I’m sorry. Really, I am.” Beatrice felt beyond guilty. “It’s not safe, and the police presence will be… Challenging.”

 

“Could this have been prevented?” Ava’s voice shook. “These last few weeks… I’ve lost… Everything.” She coarsely rubbed her eyes. “JC, my house, now my job… And in some ways, you.”

“Why me?” Beatrice knew it wasn’t the detail she should focus on, but she couldn’t help it. 

“Why you?! Because I found out you’re in the mob, Beatrice! I basically have to get to know you all over again! And let’s not forget how fucking stupid that makes me look, not realising after all this time…” She paced back and forth a few times, whereas Beatrice felt rooted to the stone.

 

“You’re not stupid. I went to great lengths to keep this from you. To keep you safe.” 

“Did it?” There was a venom in Ava’s words that was justified, but not unwarranted. Beatrice sighed. She couldn’t help but think of the last time she was here, laying in bed alone, and thinking so painfully of Ava. 

“No. At least, not enough.” Beatrice thought that there was nothing that could make her feel guiltier than she already did, but she was wrong. 

 

“What am I supposed to do, Beatrice?” There was a genuine curiosity in Ava’s question, but it was weighed down beneath the sadness. “Am I stuck here with everyone until… Until something happens, something that I’m sure will only get explained to me in the vaguest terms?” 

“I… I can’t just let you leave.” Beatrice replied. “Not let you, but you know what I mean. You’ll be…” She couldn’t bring herself to say the k-word. “It’s… It’s not a coincidence that Vincent ended up at your hospital.”

 

“I know.”

“If you didn’t find out when you did, you… Probably wouldn’t be here.” 

“I know,” repeated Ava.

“I don’t blame you for being angry.” Pausing for a deep breath, Beatrice wished she was better at this. “It’s why I avoided you and kept my distance for so long. And now, everything’s falling apart, and I -” 

 

“Bea.” Ava interrupted, with that damned nickname again. Such casual affection, and the last thing Beatrice deserved. “Even with everything that’s happened, even with everything I know now, everything I’ve done … I wouldn’t change this.” She gestured between them. “I would still be your friend.” 

“Really?” Just a single word was almost too much for Beatrice after Ava’s statement.

 

“Yes!” Ava took a step closer, ugly nurse shoes against the dark stone. “God, Beatrice, you’re my best friend! And look, I’m not going to pretend I’m okay with this. I’m not. I fucking killed someone today…” There was a pause here, gentle silence save for the gentle lapping of pool water. “I see death every day. But today I chose it, and honestly, I chose it really quickly… That’s… Horrible.” 

 

It was clear why Ava hesitated on that last word, lest she offend Beatrice the killer. Frustrated with herself, Beatrice knotted her hands together.

“You are not horrible. Far from it. This was a kill or be killed situation, and you made the right choice. And if you want someone to be angry at, it’s me. I’m the reason this happened in the first place.” 

 

“I am angry at you, Beatrice!” Ava didn’t sound totally convincing here, but Beatrice still let each word pierce her like a knife. “I’m angry that this is your life. I’m angry that you didn’t tell me sooner. I’m just… Angry. And confused. And I have no idea what my life is even supposed to be right now…” She had to stop here and roughly wipe the tears from her eyes. “Say the timing was a little different, and you’d been there a minute earlier. Would he have killed you?”

 

“He would have tried.” Cocky, maybe, but Beatrice had survived this long for a reason. Even with the massive distraction that was Ava Silva, she was no slouch. 

“Well… That helps.”

“Ava, no.” Beatrice shook her head. “I would have taken care of it. I cannot stress how much this shouldn’t have happened, nor how sorry I am.” 

 

“I know how sorry you are. It’s written all over your face.” Ava’s resolve and strength here was nothing if not admirable. “Just… I know I have to stay here, I know. And I can deal with that, but… Is it too much to ask to be included?” 

“You want to be included?” Beatrice didn’t know what she expected Ava to ask, but she knew it wasn’t that.

 

“Yes.” Ava nodded. “I don’t love this, but I hate not knowing what’s going on. And sometimes, I can’t help but feel like you’re withholding some of the details from me.” 

“I am,” admitted Beatrice in a whisper. Pointless, perhaps, it was clear that Ava already knew. 

“Great.” Ava smiled slightly, surprising Beatrice. Then, she threw herself into the freezing pool, which was somehow more surprising and not. That was Ava, though. 

 

Staying under the water for a moment, Beatrice watched the distorted version of Ava beneath the surface. This entire evening had an indescribable feeling of surrealness that Beatrice wasn’t sure how to explain. But she didn’t need to.

“Come in.” Ava all but commanded as she resurfaced. “The water’s fine.” The slight chatter of her teeth made this statement less than believable, but Beatrice took the plunge anyhow. For Ava.

Notes:

the pool is kind of symbolism but not in an english teacher way

Chapter 19: Frigid

Summary:

Ava enters the fray (somewhat) and Beatrice finds herself surprisingly undone.

Notes:

this chapter is either great or awful, not really sure which.

“Christ, it’s freezing.” Beatrice felt herself violently shivering beneath the surface of the water. With the built in lights and the dark sky above them, the entire scene felt almost unreal. She had to imagine she looked like a cold, wet dog, which made Beatrice more self conscious than it should have, entirely because of who she was with. Freezing water aside, Ava looked ethereal. Cheeks flushed, perfectly formed water droplets against her skin, lips slightly -

 

“It’s nice. Refreshing.” Ava’s reply interrupted Beatrice’s wildly distracting thoughts. “Grounding. Almost makes me forget I killed a man.” 

“Yet you really want to be included? Not that I’m not willing, I’m just… Surprised.” 

“I want to know what’s going on.” Ava’s face remained surprisingly neutral. “I might have lost everything over the past several weeks, but I don’t want to be your baggage. Or anyone’s.” 

 

“I don’t think of you like that.” Beatrice whispered. Of course, Beatrice would never think of Ava like that, even if she needed to literally be carried. For Ava, it was all worth it. God. Internally, Beatrice rolled her eyes at herself. Her infatuation with Ava was irresistible, yes, but also irresponsible. This inability to keep her distance is what put Ava in danger. How could Beatrice ever forgive herself for that?

 

“I know you don’t.” Ava took another step forward, clearly shivering as much as Beatrice was. Her wet clothing clung to her shoulders, leaving few secrets between them. “But you’ve never been the most objective, either, if we’re being honest.” 

“We are being honest.” Beatrice, for all she had endured, struggled to keep focused and composed. “I thought that was the whole point of this.” 

 

“Are you?” Ava’s eyes narrowed slightly, but the corner of her mouth turned upwards slightly. She was challenging Beatrice - in the best way. 

“I mean, I know I’ve been vague, but -”

“That’s not what I mean.” For the second time since jumping into the pool, Ava interrupted her. “You know what I mean.” She took another step closer, close enough now that Beatrice could feel Ava’s body heat.

 

Did Beatrice know what Ava meant? It felt impossible for her to think, let alone answer Ava’s question. She stared at the surface of the illuminated water for a moment, looking down to avoid the beauty that was Ava.

“Bea?” Of course, Ava couldn’t be ignored for long. “Are you okay?” Gently, Ava pressed a cold hand to Beatrice’s chin, lifting her head so that their eyes could meet.

 

“I don’t want to lose you,” was all Beatrice could manage.

“Then don’t.” Ava countered. Slowly, the hand that had been holding Beatrice’s chin slipped to her neck, pulling Beatrice closer until their lips met, completely frigid but still somehow warm. It took Beatrice a moment to react, but slowly her hand found Ava’s waist beneath the water. Another moment passed and they pulled apart, shockingly mutual and breathless. 

 

Before either woman could speak, the glass door to the patio slid open, revealing a harried-looking Mary. She cleared her throat, awkward, but seemingly hiding a smile. 

“If you’re done out here…” Mary kept herself composed, but Beatrice had known her too long to be fooled. Despite everything, Mary was trying really hard not to smile. “You can come change into some warm clothes. And Beatrice?”

 

“Yes?” Beatrice wasn’t surprised to hear her voice come out as a harsh whisper.

“Vincent wants to talk to you.”

“He’s awake?” Ava seemed almost excited to hear that. If only she knew the full extent of Vincent’s betrayal… 

“He is… I’ll go grab some towels.” Mary nodded before ducking back inside.

 

Her departure was swift, as was the distraction she provided. Beatrice’s thoughts were a mess of Ava, but there was some business there too. What would Vincent have to say? Would saving him be worth it? How could she end all this? Kissing Ava made Beatrice crave an ending to her career in a way she could have never imagined, and it wasn’t as if she’d never imagined them together before. No, she’d just never thought it possible.

 

Hell, she’d been filled with a disgusting envy since meeting JC for the first time. Nothing to be proud of, not even close. But Ava gushed about the smallest things, the littlest gestures. Beatrice knew she could do better, but also knew she’d probably never get the chance… But ‘probably’ is no guarantee. 

 

“Are you going to kill him?” Ava asked, interrupting Beatrice’s trainwreck of thought. Opening her mouth to reply, Beatrice paused for a moment, silent. Eventually, she found her words, beneath Ava’s penetrating gaze. 

“I don’t know.” And that was the honest truth. 

“He did warn us…”

 

Us. The word, and the very concept of it, echoed in Beatrice’s mind. 

“He did.” Beatrice conceded. She wanted to reach out and touch Ava once more, but she just couldn’t. And she was so damn cold. “I’m not sure that totally absolves him of his crimes, but… Well… I don’t know. We’ll see. Depending on what he knows, he could be incredibly valuable.”

“Rooting for that option, then.” Ava managed a smile, and managed to move towards the pool ladder - two things Beatrice was immediately envious of.

 

Changing was awkward. Traipsing through the safe house and trying not to drip water on the floor made Beatrice feel like a teenager in a way she never remembered feeling, even as an actual teenager. Ava’s proximity only compounded that feeling, Beatrice felt giddy despite the massive and dangerous complications in her life.

 

Upstairs, Beatrice led Ava to the bedroom that held her things. It never really felt like hers. Opening the wardrobe in the corner of the room, Beatrice was hyper aware of Ava’s presence.

“This is awfully formal.” Ava remarked, upon seeing the neatly ironed and hung outfits that lined the wooden cupboard. 

“These are just my normal clothes…” 

 

“Bea, relax.” Ava pressed a hand to Beatrice’s shoulder. Everything was the same as it always had been, except everything had changed. “I’m just teasing. I like how buttoned up you are, I personally was just hoping for something a little more casual. And warm.” Her shivering became more obvious, and Beatrice felt intimately responsible. 

“Right. Okay. I can do that.” 

 

Opening one of the wardrobe’s drawers, Beatrice retrieved a pair of grey sweatpants, and a knit jumper. “Will this do?” She held up the garments for Ava.

“Yes!” With a smile, Ava immediately moved to take off her shirt. Beatrice couldn’t have turned around faster. Thankfully, Ava didn’t comment, though Beatrice had no doubt she noticed. After a few moments of rustling, Ava spoke once more.

“Okay, I’m done. Where should I put these?” 

 

“Probably the trash.” Beatrice replied after she turned around. Ava’s bloodstained scrubs tied her to a crime scene, and as unlikely as it was, there was no such thing as too safe. Especially not after how stupid Beatrice had been with Ava’s safety. “Sorry.” 

“It’s okay.” At least Ava didn’t seem too disappointed. “I’d prefer to forget most of the day, if we’re being honest.”

“Most?” 

 

“Most,” repeatedly Ava. She leaned forward, kissing Beatrice’s cold cheek with the utmost gentleness. “But I’m not stupid, either. I can wait to talk about this until after you deal with work. Now change.” Ava quickly turned around, likely out of respect, which Beatrice appreciated. She also appreciated Ava’s surprising forwardness, knowing full well that if it was up to her, a relationship between them would probably take two decades to develop. 

 

A relationship! Was it a possibility? It sure seemed like it. Giddy and terrified, Beatrice quickly pulled off her wet clothes and through them in the hamper. How was she supposed to focus on anything else? Pulling in a deep breath, Beatrice tried to compose herself. She’d never felt like this before. As she exhaled, Beatrice picked out a simple outfit, not as casual as Ava’s of course, but plenty comfortable. Vincent’s warning aside, she didn’t want to underestimate him, and she didn’t want him to underestimate her, either. 

“Alright.” Beatrice pulled her wet hair back into a bun. She needed to feel more like her normal self, if only for an hour. “Are you ready?” 

“I am.” Ava nodded. “Let’s go.”

 

Unsurprisingly, their very entrance to the living room deviated from Beatrice’s plans. Ava was… Everything Beatrice wasn’t.

“Oh my God!” Ava exclaimed, as they entered the expansive and well-furnished room, complete with a deeply injured Vincent draped across a covered couch. “Doctor Andrew?” She sidestepped Beatrice, crossing the room to give the doctor a hug.

 

“Ava?” It was clear from the way his eyes narrowed that he was thinking one thing: what was a woman like Ava doing in a place like this? “What are you doing here?” 

“What are you doing here?” Ava countered. 

“Stabilising our patient.” He looked down at Vincent, then back at Ava. “But if you’re here…” His discomfort was more than clear. 

 

“What’s his status?” Ava asked, picking up on what he was implying immediately. This was too much involvement. Beatrice looked on in silence, as did everyone else. 

“Transfusion was finished before the shooting, thank God. Stitches stayed intact. Really just pain management and infection prevention at this point.” He nodded towards the box of supplies at the edge of the couch. 

 

“Alright. Easy enough. I’ve got it.” 

“Amazing, thank you.” It couldn’t be more obvious that he was dying to leave. Still, in his hurry, he took the time to shake Mary’s hand before leaving. A few moments later, Beatrice heard his car start in the driveway. Despite how weird the whole interaction was, Beatrice couldn’t help but admire Ava’s genuine warmth. Doubly so given how much more disruptive this all must be for Ava. At least Beatrice was used to the murder and crime. 

 

“So how do you know Andrew?” Shannon asked, fixing her gaze directly on Ava.

“We did several rotations together at the hospital. He’s a good man.” She paused, looking down at Vincent, then back up at Shannon. “But no offence, he doesn’t seem the type to be involved in… All this.” 

“Offence taken,” muttered Lilith under her breath. Camila shot her a look. 

 

“He has a gambling problem.” Mary offered an actual explanation. “A bad one. It got him into a lot of trouble. I helped him out of it, and part of his repayment is the occasional off-the-books medical practice.” 

“I see…” Ava’s expression remained surprisingly composed. 

“I didn’t think you were part of all this.” Vincent rasped. He looked directly at Ava, which Beatrice hated. 

 

“She’s not.” Beatrice bit. Ava turned, meeting Beatrice’s eyes with a frown. Ouch. “What happened between you and Adriel?” 

“Right to the chase, I see.” Despite his weakened state, Vincent was as obtuse as ever. Shannon leaned forward in her chair. The anger on her face was plain. 

“I suggest you start talking. Otherwise I’m not sure I see a reason to keep you alive.” 

 

“Right. Okay.” Vincent held up a hand, wincing as he did. “He’s really desperate for you five… Six. Says you have something of his.”

“We do.” Lilith crossed her arms. She leaned against a table, effortlessly intimidating. Camila was less scary, focused on the laptop in front of her more than anything happening in the room itself. “But he stole from us first.” 

 

“Look, I don’t know the specifics.” Vincent at least sounded honest. But they’d been fooled before. “Believe it or not, he wasn’t that keen on working with me.” 

“Why?” Mary didn’t seem that sympathetic. 

“I think you know why.” Vincent looked squarely at Beatrice when he spoke. It made her blood boil. “Lucky for me, I’m hard to kill.” 

 

“We know,” whispered Beatrice. In her mind’s eye she could still see it, blood splattered across a rain soaked street, pain that stretched beyond what she’d thought possible. “Lucky us.” 

“This was no coincidence.” Camila finally spoke, severing the tension for a moment. “Adriel’s men dropped your bleeding carcass off at Ava’s hospital. Bulletproof van, fake plates, the whole nine yards. If they really wanted you dead, they wouldn’t have bothered.” 

 

Her words hung heavily over everyone for a moment. Even Vincent looked surprised, as if he really thought this was another failed murder. 

“He must really be desperate.” Shannon broke the silence first. “This was a huge risk to take for some leverage.” After that Beatrice didn’t, couldn’t, stay still a moment longer. Instead she ducked out of the room, heading upstairs without a word. 

 

Breathless by the time she reached the bedroom, Beatrice leaned against the closed door. It felt like her lungs weren’t working. The guilt she felt was immense, immeasurable, and Beatrice felt herself breaking in a way she’d never broken. This was no way to do her job, she couldn’t afford to be so emotional. A huge part of her ability to succeed in such a fucked up world was predicated on her ability to stay cold. Emotionless.

 

A knock on the door interrupted her spiral.”Beatrice? Are you okay?” It was Ava’s voice. Of course it was. Beatrice was simultaneously thrilled and horrified. After a moment of hesitation she opened the door. 

“I’m not normally like this.” Beatrice spoke before Ava had the chance. 

“I know.” Ava’s obvious concern, despite her own struggles, was touching. “Well, Camila told me.” 

 

“Why did you let Andrew leave? I don’t want Vincent to be your responsibility.” 

“He seemed nervous.” Ava’s gaze was painfully fixed on Beatrice. “And I said I wanted to be involved, didn’t I?” 

“You did,” conceded Beatrice. “I just… Don’t get too attached, okay? And don’t trust him, either. Seriously. He might seem weak now but he’ll find the strength to stab you in the back if given the chance.” 

 

“Alright, understood.” Ava held up her hands. “Why do I feel like there’s more to the story here than what you’ve told me.” 

“I think you already know the answer to that.” Beatrice took a step away from Ava, and towards the window. She could see the pool below, a stark reminder of what happened earlier. 

“I want to know the full truth, Bea. About everything.” 

 

Bea. There it was again, so common all of a sudden. Beatrice felt herself blush.

“There’s so much to tell you, if you truly want to know. It’ll take days, if not weeks… And… Well, it doesn’t always paint us in a good light. Or me.”

“I still want to know.” Ava took a few quick strides, joining Beatrice at the window. “And besides, it’s not like I have anything else in my life anymore.” This part was added with a frown, another guilty dagger in Beatrice’s pounding heart. 

 

“I’m sorry.” 

“Don’t be.” There was a lot of emotion in Ava’s dark eyes. “I know we have a lot to talk about, but right now… Right now, all I want is you. And to be honest, I think you’re all I’ve wanted for a while now…” 

“Then I’m yours.”

Notes:

also damn 42k words finally got some action

Chapter 20: Cruel Internal

Summary:

Ava and Beatrice talk.

Notes:

sorry i havent updated in awhile. i am having both work drama and real life drama (at the same time yipee) and it is stressful and busy. hopefully it comes to an end soon. also i have been working on my book that isnt fanfic instead of fanfic so... cool.

Beatrice smashed through the warehouse’s back door, and jumped off the edge of the loading dock. Smoke was already pouring out of the building, and Beatrice coughed as the cold night air reached her lungs. Stumbling forward, she had to reach a hand down to the rain-soaked pavement to keep from falling over. Her body ached. This had been a trap. A deadly one. 

 

Taking a deeper breath, Beatrice straightened up. She reached for her gun, but the holster was empty. Fuck. It was probably lost somewhere in the explosion and subsequent attack. Phone too. Looking around, there was no one in sight, just an empty loading dock and a quickly-burning warehouse. Of course, that changed a moment later. 

 

“Beatrice!” Vincent slammed through the same door Beatrice exited. “You made it!” He ran forwards, with a relieved smile. His face was coated in ash. 

“I did.” Beatrice was happy that at least someone made it out, though she still felt a certain unease. Why? 

“Are you okay?” 

 

“I think so.” She ached all over, but nothing pressing. It would heal. Vincent reached a hand out to her shoulder, trying to be comforting in a way Beatrice didn’t often see. 

“You didn’t see anyone else, did you?” He sounded so genuine. Hurt. 

“No.” Beatrice refused to believe they’d lost everyone, but her denial was becoming harder and harder to maintain. 

 

“Good.” Vincent’s face shifted quickly, too quickly. Beatrice didn’t have time to react before the icy blade plunged through her stomach. She quickly pressed a hand to the wound, which quickly coated her hand in blood, before looking back up at her attacker. Her friend. Vincent. At least she had her answer, then. He was the traitor.

 

Time seemed to be moving in slow motion. Vincent looked as if he was saying something, but Beatrice couldn’t hear him. A flash of light glinted off his newly bloodied blade, her blood, and Beatrice heard a gunshot a moment later. It startled her, Beatrice wondered if she’d been shot, but instead, Vincent crumpled to the ground before her. 

 

“Beatrice, let’s go.” Shannon pulled her into a car, as Beatrice’s vision began to cloud at the edges. What was going on? When did the car get there?

“It’s okay, you’re okay.” Camila’s whispers were unmistakable. Bleary and confused, Beatrice watched the warehouse burn, before it receded from view completely.

 

-----

 

“Well, now I kind of want you to kill him,” whispered Ava. She laid beside Beatrice in bed, even though there were four empty bedrooms in the massive estate. Apparently, Ava didn’t want to be alone, though Beatrice wasn’t sure she believed that. “Not only did he betray you, but he’s the one who stabbed you!” Beatrice remembered Ava running her finger over said stab wound, it was all-too-vivid in her mind. 

 

“It’s not that simple.” 

“Please don’t say ‘it’s complicated.’” Ava exhaled slowly. “I thought that was the point of explaining everything. I can handle it.” 

“I know you can.” And honestly, Beatrice wasn’t lying. Ava’s resilience was surprising, even the face of her first kill. “And I am explaining. Sorry.” 

 

There was a pause here, Ava was clearly waiting for Beatrice to continue. “He’s had his helpful moments, after the fact. Leads and information… It’s difficult to find an informant. So, when we found out he not only survived, but was still in the business, well… That’s hard to get rid of.”

“Why is it difficult?”

“Most criminals aren’t super fond of informants. Useful as they may be, the inherent disloyalty of it means they usually meet a swift end. Vincent is unique in that way, I suppose. He is like a cockroach.” 

 

“Do you think he knows anything useful?” Ava asked in reply. 

“I’m not sure. He better hope he does.” 

“I know I’m supposed to be scared, and I know you want me to be, but it’s honestly kind of hot when you say things like that.” Further accenting her point, Ava reached an arm around Beatrice, pulling her closer beneath the covers.

 

Did Beatrice want Ava to be scared? That seemed reductive. Questionable. But fair. Maybe her constant warnings and caution didn’t fall on completely deaf ears. 

“I worry about you glamorising this life. It isn’t something to covet, despite the perks… And I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t terrified about you coming to your senses and realising that I am, and I’m being completely objective here, a terrible person.” 

 

“I don’t think you’re a terrible person. I’m not sure I could ever think that.” Ava’s words were kinder than Beatrice felt she deserved. The warmth of Ava’s body against her own certainly didn’t hurt either. “To be honest, I’m worried more than anything. I mean, it’s cool and sexy, but it’s also tragic. It’s absolutely heartbreaking, and I know I’m far from all the details. And yet, despite all that, you still found so much time to care about me. Not sure how that makes you terrible.” 

 

“The long list of crimes is what makes me terrible.” Beatrice spoke tersely, more objective than she figured she should be about her own life. “Beyond just the killing, there’s been theft and betrayal, financial crimes, intimidation… The list goes on and on. It would probably be faster to list the crimes I haven’t committed.” 

“Do you feel remorse?” A single question, Ava’s whisper in Beatrice’s ear. It almost lingered for a moment, hauntingly simple and eternally complex.

 

“I don’t know.” Beatrice wanted to answer yes, she wanted to answer no. She wanted to answer definitively but she couldn’t. Another common echo of ‘it’s complicated.’ “Sometimes. My enemies are not good people, Ava. That makes it easier. They’d just as soon kill me and dump my body in the ocean. Yet… They still have lives, loved ones… Remorse is a dangerous emotion in this line of work.” 

 

“Dangerous how?” Though she only added two words, Ava’s fervent curiosity was painfully obvious. 

“The night that you broke things off with JC, we robbed Adriel’s money-laundering front.”

“Yes, I know.” 

“And when we made it to where the money was kept, there was an altercation. We were outnumbered, and forced into a difficult conflict.” 

 

Ava stayed silent, with rapt attention. Beatrice continued. 

“I was out of bullets. I needed to finish things off, quickly, because you needed me. So I closed the gap, and finished the remaining enemies with my knife… When combat becomes that close, you see a man’s eyes. Sometimes I’ve had to kill people I know, people I’ve socialised with, and met their wives… But a moment, literally a moment, of hesitation at a time like that… Well, that costs my life.”

 

“It’s them or you,” concluded Ava.

“Yes.” Beatrice frowned and she could feel her cheeks burn. She was happy Ava couldn’t see her in the dark, this was no way for a hardened criminal to behave. “And my callousness about it definitely adds to the evidence that I’m a terrible person.” 

“Maybe…” Ava didn’t sound convinced. “But have you ever known anything else?”

 

“No.” That, Beatrice didn’t need to think about. This was her life.

“Well then excuse me if I’m not ready to commit to the ‘Beatrice is terrible’ line of thinking just yet.” Ava’s grin was audible. “Once this is over, or at least stable… Maybe you can take some time off. I’m not telling you to walk away, or to stay - hell, I’m not telling you anything. But I think you owe it to yourself to at least think about what you want. There’s a lot more to life than what you’ve been living, Bea.” 

“I’m starting to realise that.” 

 

“Good.” Ava rolled back over, onto her back, and Beatrice immediately missed her warmth. Sighing, Ava continued. “I still can barely believe it all. You’ve been weirdly freaked out since I’ve found out, and I just feel… I don’t know. I’ve lost so much of my life, yet I still find myself thinking ‘thank God, I still have Beatrice.’”

“You really think that?” Beatrice’s voice cracked on the last word, much to her embarrassment. Ava’s ability to express how she felt so calmly was enviable.

 

“Yes!” She grew slightly louder, exasperated. “You’re my best friend! You’ve always been there for me, and knowing now what you had to go through to do that… Well, I’m honoured in a way I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to repay.” 

“There is nothing to repay. Like you’ve said, you’ve lost a lot because of me, and you should be furious that I’ve kept this a secret so long, even disregarding how much I’ve hurt you.” 

 

“I am angry.” Ava’s words dropped back down to a whisper. “But I’m also grateful. As you seem to be so fond of saying, ‘it’s complicated.’” Sighing, Beatrice took a moment to reply.

“I get it.” Her own feelings were complex too, though she’d had a lot longer to deal with them. Ever since meeting Ava, she knew the right thing to do was to stay away, to keep her distance. Yet here they were, sharing a bed, despite everything. Beatrice feared her own weakness. “I’m sorry.” 

 

“Don’t apologise, please.” Ava’s tone was impossible to decipher. “I know you’re going through the whole selfless martyr thing in your head. You should have stayed away from me, you put me in danger, blah blah blah…” Beatrice frowned at the assessment, correct as it may be, and waited for Ava to finish her point. “And I will tell you this every fucking day if I need you. But I wouldn’t give you up, even if it kept me safe.” 

 

The silence was very loud after that, but Beatrice couldn’t hear it over the pounding heartbeat in her ears. For someone with her rap sheet, falling apart over Ava was both completely surprising and completely predictable. She’d always fallen apart over Ava, only now she had a chance. 

“Every time I imagined you reacting to the truth it was… Different from this.” 

“How often did you imagine it?” 

 

“Every day.” Beatrice paused. She felt like an idiot admitting it, but she was so damn sick of lying to Ava. “Well, not at first. But as we got closer, yes, every day.” 

“And I was too stupid to see the clues.” 

“Well, I was too stupid to see any clues that you might have… Non-platonic feelings for me.” Finally, Beatrice managed a smile, invisible in the dark but it felt nice all the same.

 

“So was I.” Ava laughed. “In hindsight, it must have been obvious. Even JC noticed, and you two never spent much time together.” 

“Ava, I hope you don’t think I only maintained a friendship because I had feelings for you. I love being your friend and would be more than happy to be just friends. And, after everything, would consider myself lucky to be so…” Beatrice’s words tumbled out before she could stop them, a rarity in itself. 

 

“I don’t think that.” Ava was far more succinct. “Honestly, that’s a bit cruel. Is that how you talk to yourself all the time?” 

“I’m not answering that.” Beatrice turned onto her side, away from Ava and towards the empty room. To say she felt called out would be an understatement. 

“So yes, then.” Ava clearly wasn’t so easily deterred. She moved beneath the covers, quickly wrapping herself around Beatrice. “Something for us to work on in the future, then.” 

 

“Us?” Beatrice was hung up on a single word, but it was so much more than that. Us.

“Yeah, unless you object?” Ava didn’t sound like she was expecting an objection, and she didn’t get one. “Look, our lives are tied together right now regardless. But I have you, and I want you.” Her voice was an enticing whisper in Beatrice’s ear, and it drowned out some of her doubts. “This doesn’t need to be as complicated as everything else.” 

“You’re right, it doesn’t.” 

 

“I know. I’m always right.” Ava was such a snark sometimes. “But we should probably try and get some sleep. I have a patient to take care of… At least, before he gets interrogated.” 

“Ava…”

“I can handle it. Seriously.” Her demeanour hardened a bit, in a way Beatrice hated. Unfortunately, she had to resign herself to a lack of control over it. That was difficult. “And I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t angry with him as well.” 

 

“It might not be violent. I certainly won’t jump to it immediately if I don’t have to… I don’t get any joy from this.” 

“I know, Bea, I know.” Ava pressed a kiss to Beatrice’s cheek, before settling into a more comfortable position. “Believe it or not, I’m not judging you. But we can talk more tomorrow. For now? Sleep.”

Notes:

ALSO ALSO i kind of want to go to Ava pov for next chapter but that seems like crazy behavior so i wont. (if you do want that, tell me in the comments cuz i have some really good ideas lowkey).

Chapter 21: Porcelain

Notes:

you don't have to add a chapter summary if you dont want to. also sorry for the delay on this, my life is still insane mode and also switching POVs was surprisingly difficult. i wrote this twice and im still not thrilled with it. also no proofread, you guys know the drill at this point

It was quiet when Ava woke up. Early, too, given the weak sunlight sneaking through the curtains. Beatrice was still asleep beside her, face far more peaceful than it ever was in her waking hours. Ava took a moment to admire it before gently sliding out of bed. There was so much to be confused and angry about, all of which involving Beatrice… Yet Ava found it hard to hang on to any negativity. 

 

Sighing, she slipped out into the hallway. First things first, it was probably prudent to take care of her patient, emotions set aside. Knowing what he did to Beatrice made Ava feel more than a little violent, a feeling that she’d rarely felt stir within her. But even with all the newfound honesty, Ava wasn’t stupid. She knew Beatrice was still keeping the worst details hidden, yet Ava longed to know. The details would surely hurt her, but she had to know. She just had to.

 

“Good morning.” Vincent greeted her as she reached the living room, which startled Ava from her thoughts. He wore a friendly but also unnerving smile, it was something in his eyes. 

“How are you feeling?” Ava still thought she sounded too nice, but at least she skipped on reciprocating the ‘good morning.’ Her habits took over though, she’d been a nurse for a long time, and she was still responsible for keeping him alive. At least, for now…

 

“Fantastic.” This was a lie, but he delivered it with surprising charisma given the circumstances. Maybe Ava could understand how what Beatrice said was true. 

“Let’s see.” Ava knelt beside him on the couch, while ignoring the alarm bells in her head. Knowing what she knew now, being this close to Vincent, alone, was probably a stupid idea. At least Beatrice was still asleep. More gently than he deserved, Ava pulled back the bandages, examining the sutures from the night before. “Actually, this is better than expected.” He really was a cockroach.

 

“I have that way about me,” whispered Vincent. His tone was too tight for comfort. Even injured, he still felt dangerous. Yet, it felt somewhat familiar, too. 

“This can still get infected.” Ava tried to stay as neutral as possible. “I wouldn’t get too cocky.” She quickly began the habitual motions, sanitising the wound with technical efficiency. Vincent remained quiet until Ava was nearly done, and rebandaging his wounds.

 

“So you’re the girlfriend?” His dark eyes were fixed on her, Ava felt examined in a way she already knew. Only then did she realise who he reminded her of: Beatrice. “Interesting choice.” He continued, and Ava rose, taking a half-conscious step back. “A civilian, and a gentle one at that. The dynamic there is… Interesting…”

“It’s complicated,” was all Ava replied with, before quickly letting herself into the kitchen and closing the door behind her. And God, it was complicated, wasn’t it? She and Beatrice needed to get the phrase tattooed or something. 

 

Rolling her eyes, Ava came back to reality to realise she wasn’t alone. Mary was leaning against the counter, steaming coffee in hand. 

“Don’t tell her that you worked on Vincent alone.” It was an obvious reminder, but it reaffirmed Ava’s suspicions if nothing else. “Injured or not, he is a dangerous man. And he knows you’re not like us, he’ll try to take advantage. Either for information, or… Something else.” 

 

“Who’s to say I’m not like you?” 

“Ava…” Mary laughed, hearty and comforting. She took a minute before she could finish her sentence. “Be serious.” 

“I am!” Ava felt slightly exasperated. She hated feeling like she didn’t belong, it was too stark a reminder of all the worst parts of her life. Even if, and it couldn’t be more obvious, she wasn’t a criminal. “At least, I’m not a complete idiot. I didn’t tell him anything.” 

 

“I know you’re not. But we don’t know what he knows, or what his angle is. You could accidentally reveal information without realising it… Or, what happens if he pocketed a scalpel at the hospital? What happens when he waits for you to get close, before driving it into your neck?” 

“I don’t know.” Ava didn’t have a good answer for what was a very valid point. She needed to be smarter, especially if she didn’t want to keep being seen as the weakest link.

 

“It doesn’t take a lot of strength to kill someone, especially if you’ve done it before.” Mary’s words hung heavily in the air for a moment, sharply contrasted by the next. “Coffee?” Ava just stared at her for a moment, before nodding. What a strange world she’d walked into, stranger still, since she knew all the players. Or at least, thought she knew all the players. It was hard not to wonder just how much had been hidden from her for so long. Again, it was hard not to feel stupid. 

 

“Thank you,” mumbled Ava, as she took the warm mug from Mary. Before she could say anything else, the exterior door swung open, revealing Camila and Lilith, both wrapped in towels. Ava shivered just looking at them.

“Oh, yes, coffee…” Camila muttered, retrieving two more cups from the cabinet. 

“Were you two inspired by Ava, or what?” Mary asked with a half grin.

 

“You could say that.” Lilith replied. Despite her tone, Ava was almost sure she caught a quick smile from the normally taciturn woman. Even with as close as she was to Camila, Lilith was an enigma. 

“It was nice! Bracing!” Camila sat down at the kitchen island, and a few drops of water dripped from her hair onto the marble countertop. “Good morning, Ava. Hopefully you slept well.” 

 

“As well as can be expected, I suppose.” Ava felt so odd. These were her friends, these were criminals, but they were her friends. Hardened, high level criminals! Her thoughts were a knotted mess, it felt impossible to imagine them untangling again.

“Did you check on our patient?” Whatever friendliness Lilith had earlier was gone. Vincent seemed to have that effect on people. “I’m happy to stand guard if -”

“She already did it.” Mary interrupted. “Alone.” 

 

“Oh… Don’t tell Beatrice…” Camila hid her expression in her mug, and took a hearty sip of coffee.

“Don’t tell me what?” Beatrice appeared in the doorway, quiet as usual. She’d changed out of her pyjamas, of course, but there was still a rare roughness in her appearance that Ava rarely saw, but found very attractive. 

 

“Nothing, just girl stuff.” Giggling, Camila lied on Ava’s behalf. It was surprisingly convincing, and Ava all at once realised that Camila’s ‘I’m a bad liar’ act was probably all for show. “We can’t tell you.” 

“And Ava’s already checked on Vincent, under my supervision.” Mary added another lie. “So you can sit yourself down and drink coffee normally.” 

 

“Christ. Alright.” Beatrice seemed slightly sceptical, but she didn’t protest. Instead, she emptied the coffee pot and sat beside Camila at the counter. She made brief eye contact with Ava, which felt very loaded. Ava couldn’t help but notice the tension in Beatrice’s shoulders, and the worry in her eyes. Did she always look like that? Was this new or was Ava the worst friend in the world? Friend?

 

For a few minutes, there was only silence. Then everyone reacted to a sound that Ava didn’t quite hear, all subtly tipping their eyes towards the exterior door. It was odd and very in sync, and Ava couldn’t help but wonder if this was just one of many obvious signs that she’d missed… Or only obvious now that she knew. Either way, Shannon’s entrance was a distraction from the more troubling thoughts. 

 

“I got bagels.” True to her word, she had a massive brown bag in hand. “But I’d love some reinforcements to move farther away.” 

“As if that was optional,” mumbled Mary. At least there was other overprotection going on, and Shannon was a criminal too! Weirdly this made Ava feel slightly better.

“I’ll come.” Camila was the first to volunteer. “But bagel first.”

 

“And you should probably change.” Lilith added with a slight smirk. She pulled a bagel out of the bag Shannon had set on the table, before retrieving a few knives from the drawer. “Shan, I’ll come too.” It was more casual than Ava had ever seen Lilith act, but she was grateful. Somehow, it granted the whole scene a bit of normalcy.

“Beatrice and I can stay and talk to Vincent.” Mary decided in Beatrice’s continued silence. “And Ava, of course.” She shot a wink in Ava’s direction. “Bagel?” Only then did Ava realise she’d basically been frozen in place. So much so, that she didn’t notice Beatrice’s eyes fall back on her.

 

“Yes. Please.” How normal. A bagel then torture. Was this Beatrice’s real day to day? For years, Ava imagined Beatrice, and all her friends, sitting in a boring office poring over spreadsheets and accounts. This was a truly bizarre disconnect, but one that made more sense the more she thought about it. Finally, she stepped forward, efficiently slicing open a bagel, smearing it with blueberry cream cheese. It was clearly local, unmarked plastic chef containers with whirls of actual blueberries, a far cry from the store bought variety. Odd, sometimes, what sticks in your mind when one has a plethora of thoughts to contend with.

 

Beatrice ate last, and appeared almost too focused on the task. This gave Ava the chance to watch her instead, to study her, an interesting change of pace. Her brow was furrowed slightly, as if in thought, and unaware of the conversation her friends were having around her. Instead, she focused on her bagel, focused on it like it was both singular and very important. That made Ava’s heart flutter a little bit. She knew what it was like to be focused on like that, a deep honest intensity despite the lies that bound them.

 

All too quickly the room emptied, and it wasn’t long before Shannon, Camila, and Lilith departed in a bulletproof vehicle. “Time to get to work.” Beatrice rose, nodding almost imperceptibly in Mary’s direction. This must have been some type of cue, because Mary stepped out and left them alone for a moment. “Ava, listen.” There was a sudden urgency in Beatrice’s voice. “You don’t have to participate in this, okay? No one will blame you if you go upstairs.”

 

“Participate in what, exactly?” Ava had a feeling she already knew. She wasn’t asking in a fit of naïvety, but rather because she wanted to hear Beatrice say it out loud.

“I’m going to ask Vincent what he knows.” With a sigh, Beatrice hung her head slightly. If she wasn’t ashamed of her actions, she was definitely ashamed of Ava knowing. “If he is cooperative, then that’s all it will be.” 

 

“And if he’s not?” 

“If he’s not, then I will make sure he changes his mind.” Beatrice pinched the bridge of her nose. She looked tired. “I find myself less worried with the trauma that watching something like that might inflict… But more worried of what you might think of me.” It took Ava several seconds to fully understand what Beatrice was saying, and a few more to assess her own feelings. She felt a pang of pity for Vincent, too, until she remembered what he did… And considered what else he might be responsible for. 

 

“I can handle it,” announced Ava in a whisper. Beatrice only nodded, and Mary rejoined them once more, this time more purposefully. 

“He wants a bagel too.” Mary explained, rolling her eyes as she hastily retrieved a plate from the cupboard. 

“Of course.” Beatrice didn’t protest, but the contempt was obvious in her voice. Vincent’s usefulness clearly outpaced the dislike, which was a feat in itself. 

 

After a half-assed smear, Ava followed Mary and Beatrice into the sitting room. Vincent had awkwardly propped himself up into a sitting position on the couch, but despite his bluster, he was still far from healed. Once again, Ava felt a wave of pity, but it washed away quickly. To his scant credit, at least, he thanked Mary for the bagel, which he slowly picked at, resting the plate on his knee.

 

“I really don’t want to do this with you.” Beatrice took the lead, and sat on the coffee table across from Vincent. There was something very assertive, almost masculine, about her posture - something that Ava found wildly attractive despite all the other stimuli. “So please, just this once, cooperate.”

“Beatrice, I’m always cooperative. Ask Ava. We go way back.” He smiled in her direction, and Beatrice’s eyes followed, expression dark and unreadable. 

 

“I’m serious.” 

“And so am I.” His smile vanished in an instant, and he focused solely on Beatrice, as if there was no one else in the room. “I don’t think you understand the position I’m in here.”

“I don’t think you understand how much worse I can make it.” The tension in Beatrice’s jaw was visible as she spoke.

 

“Actually, I think I do. I think you’re worried about scaring off your virtuous lover.” Another quick glance in Ava’s direction. “But more pressingly, I’m dead either way.” After this, he smiled once more, confident, like he knew he was right. Ava stayed completely still, in rapt fascination. 

“You sound so sure.” 

“I am sure. Say you get the information you want, and in return, I get my life. You think Adriel won’t hunt me down and try to kill me?” 

 

“You’ve escaped worse than him before, are you that lacking in confidence?” Beatrice raised an eyebrow. 

“They bested me already once.” He gestured to the wrapped wounds on his midsection. “Granted, I’d not let my guard down again, but still…” There was a flicker of uncertainty in his eyes, but it vanished quickly. 

 

“You’d make terrific bait,” muttered Mary. Beatrice nodded in acknowledgement of a good point. Vincent kept his expression neutral. “Since they’ll hunt you down, anyhow.” Without warning, he upended his plate and reached forward, smashing it across Beatrice’s face. Her block on his arm was just a hair late, but to her credit, she took the blow without faltering, even as blood dripped from her face and soaked the collar of her shirt. Defeated, Vincent laid back again, pained by the sudden motion. Mary stood still, so Ava followed suit. 

 

“You’ve lost your edge, Beatrice.” Vincent sneered. There was a sheen of sweat across his forehead now, these antics were clearly costing him. “First you let your girl work on me alone, and second you let me get a hit off? Injured? It reminds me of our last night together.” 

“Fuck you.” Beatrice didn’t look over at Ava. Instead, she retrieved a piece of broken porcelain from the floor, and stabbed it through Vincent’s hand, pinning him to the couch’s armrest. He didn’t cry out.

 

Slowly rising, and wildly intimidating, Beatrice rose and walked around the couch. Then, she unholstered her pistol, and pressed it to the back of Vincent’s head. 

“Ava, can you please stitch that up? I’d hate to see it get infected before we’re done.” Her voice was so shaky and tight, right on the edge of being able to be controlled. Without comment, Ava retrieved her bag from the mantle and got to work. 

 

There was a scalpel missing. God, Mary had been so spot on. Ava felt stupid, but she tried not to show it. Instead, she worked quickly, removing the gruesome piece of porcelain and sanitising the wound. 

“Do you still want that job, Vincent?” Beatrice asked quietly.

“Do I have a choice?” 

“No.” 

 

A moment later, Beatrice smashed the back of her pistol into his head, knocking him out. Ava wondered if she should be concerned about a concussion, or if they were past that. She opted to say nothing, and instead finished stitching Vincent’s hand back together.

“Beatrice…” Mary broke the tense moment of silence, though her voice did nothing to ease the anger in Beatrice’s eyes. 

“Stop.” Beatrice pocketed her weapon before crossing the room. “I know.” She exited into the backyard before anyone could speak again.

Chapter 22: Cut

Notes:

sorry for being slow as hell on this story, but also all the other WIPs. i have been mostly focused on not ending up homeless but i promise i am thinking about all of them and once my life settles i will be updating a lot okay!

“Missing this?” Mary reached down and retrieved Ava’s missing scalpel from Vincent’s pocket. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” She was clearly trying to sound upbeat, but it fell a bit flat. The look on her face was far too tense.

“I wasn’t going to say that.” Ava took the scalpel from Mary’s hand and slotted it back into her bag, vowing to be more careful in future. As much as she didn’t want to admit it, she was way out of her depth here.

 

“Good.” Frowning, Mary looked down at Vincent, then back at Ava. “This was my fault. I shouldn’t have given him a plate… Honestly, if he wasn’t injured, I wouldn’t have given him any food, either. Maybe that seems too harsh, or not harsh enough… I’m not really sure how you’re taking all this. But there were a lot of good times with Vincent too. That makes it more difficult.” 

“I get it.” Ava sighed, her thoughts were more focused on Beatrice than anything else, and her eyes wandered to the window. 

 

“I don’t envy the position you’re in.” Mary’s jaw tightened as she paused, in thought, following Ava’s sightline to the backdoor. “Or Beatrice’s, for that matter. Talk about complicated.” She tried to joke, but it was far from landing.

“I’m banning anyone from using the C-word.” Ava too tried to joke. Had she become this desensitised already or was she just numb? Was this really a life she could have? Was she stupid to think so? 

 

“Go talk to her.” It was a simple directive. “I’ll make sure Vincent doesn’t try anything else.” Mary didn’t elaborate and Ava was happy for that. “...And maybe tell Beatrice I said sorry.” 

“I will.” Ava nodded before quickly leaving. It was cold outside, but the shock of it was welcome, the tension of the interrogation made her feel slightly overheated. 

 

Finding Beatrice was easy - the yard was massive but only well forested along the perimeter. There was a smaller patio tucked beyond the pool, complete with a firepit and an expensive-looking set of outdoor furniture. Beatrice sat completely still on one of the couches, head in her hands, and pistol sat on the stony edge of the pit. Ava took all of three seconds to reach her. Despite her worries, Beatrice seemed like the easiest choice in the world.

 

“Are you okay?” Maybe not the best opening line, but it was hard to ignore the blood that ran down Beatrice’s face and soaked her collar. It was quite the laundry list of injuries as of late, and if a long life with Beatrice was what Ava wanted, this would have to come to an end. Simultaneously, it was hard not to admire the toughness; a hit like that would have put Ava in a coma.

 

“I’m sorry,” whispered Beatrice, still unmoving. “Vincent is right. I have lost my edge.” 

“I shouldn’t have been alone with him this morning. I can’t help but feel like my involvement is making this more difficult for you.” 

“It is. But it shouldn’t. It can’t. ” She over-enunciated the last word, making clear her emotion. “A singular lapse of focus on my part puts me in more danger than you’re already in… Danger that’s already my fault.” 

 

“And what about everything that’s my fault?” Ava felt a twinge of anger, but she mostly felt sad. Anxious. “I’m out of my depth. I’ve tried to deny it, I’m smart, right, I can figure it out… No, I can’t. Not completely, not on my own. You are all I have left, Beatrice, and so help me God, I don’t intend on losing you.”

“You won’t.” There was a raw determination in Beatrice’s voice. She finally looked up, and met Ava’s eyes. 

 

“No. I won’t. Because you’re going to teach me.”

“Teach you what?” 

“Everything.” Ava was tenacious if nothing else. “I refuse to be a liability. Teach me to fight, to shoot, to understand things that other people overlook. Things that I’ve overlooked for years… And I want your whole story, Beatrice. Not just parts of it, not just the sanitised details you think I can handle. All of it.” 

 

Slowly, Beatrice rose. She looked tired, and bloody, and slightly unsteady. Her dark eyes were laser focused on Ava, but she didn’t shy away. This was what she wanted after all. Wasn’t it?

“Alright,” replied Beatrice. Finally. A bit anticlimactic, though. “Is this really what you want?”

“Honestly?” All at once, Ava felt exhausted, as if the weight of each revelation was finally settling. “I have no idea. But I do know that I refuse to be a burden, and that I refuse to lose you. So while I don’t imagine my mafia lifestyle extending too far, I can recognise that this is what I need to be right now. Besides, I’ve lost everything else, anyhow…”

 

“You would never be a burden, Ava. Not to me.” Stark honesty was written across Beatrice’s bloody face, emotion too strong to fake, even for her. “You wouldn’t be a burden even if I needed to carry you on my back everywhere I went. You wouldn’t be a burden even if the price of my time with you was getting stabbed for every hour spent in your company.” 

“Don’t say things like that.” Ava felt a hot tear run down her face. Had Beatrice’s feelings for her always been so obvious? “You’re already so careless about your body, and it’s clear there’s more danger left to come… Plus, I’m definitely not worth all that.” 

 

“You are to me.” Beatrice maintained eye contact as she spoke, as her eyes watered, dark and thoughtful. “You are to me.” She repeated in a hoarse whisper. Slowly, she reached for her gun, deftly removing the clip before pulling back the slide and releasing the round from the chamber. Her hand movements were economical and smooth, it was clear she’d done this a million times before. “Here.” She spun the weapon in her hand, passing it to Ava. “Don’t point it at anyone.”

 

It was heavier than Ava expected it to be, though she immediately liked the weight of it, and then immediately wished she didn’t. Over her years in the hospital, she’d probably treated dozens of gunshot wounds, but never once had she held the offending item in her hand. She turned the weapon over a few times, well-worn grip tight in her hand. The serial number had been filed off, and Ava couldn’t help but wonder, if only for a split second, if anyone she’d treated at her hospital had been a victim of Beatrice’s. Sighing, she shook the thought away. It was a stupid hypothetical to get caught up in now… And besides, Beatrice shot to kill. 

 

Raising the gun, Ava pointed it at a tree in the yard. “Put your left hand under your right, to steady your grip.” Beatrice offered, more neutral in tone that Ava could’ve been. 

“Alright…” Ava did as she was told, unsurprised that it made it easier to hold the weapon aloft. 

“Now pull the trigger.” 

 

Ava froze. It meant nothing, but it meant everything. One second stretched into two, then, click. She closed her eyes. No bullets and still this was how she reacted?

“No hesitation, next time.” Beatrice rose and gently eased the weapon from Ava’s hands, quickly flipping the safety back on. “Easier said than done, I know. I’m not trying to be a dick.” She looked between Ava and the target, a study, mature maple. Very threatening. Had it not all been so serious, Ava would have rolled her eyes.

 

“You’re right, I know.” 

“You said that you wanted to learn, and to know. This is what that looks like.” Beneath the blood, there was a new look on Beatrice’s face, an odd mix of curiosity and pity. “This life does not become you, but if you truly want it to, you’ll need to separate yourself from their humanity. Obstacles, not people. For someone like you, that’s… Almost impossible.”

“Someone like me?” 

 

“A good person.” Beatrice sighed. “Even a moment’s hesitation can kill you. A moment gives someone else a chance. A mercy shot to the leg still leaves plenty of time and strength to pull the trigger… It’s absolutely brutal and I’m not going to try and convince you otherwise.”

“I understand.” And Ava did understand, perhaps for the first time. More concerningly, she found herself wanting more. Some morbid, curious force drove her onwards. 

 

“Hopefully it doesn’t come to that. I will do everything in my power to make sure it doesn’t, but you should still be prepared.” Beatrice didn’t look at Ava, instead she focused what was obviously too much attention on reloading her pistol.

“I will be.” Ava frowned. All she really wanted to do was clean the blood for Beatrice’s face. “Mary told me to tell you she was sorry, by the way.” It was a weak diversion, but Ava needed to create a moment of space for her emotions.

 

“She has nothing to apologise for. All on me.” 

“I don’t understand the dynamic here at all.” At that, Beatrice laughed. It was surprisingly light, genuine… Nice, given the circumstances.

“It’s odd, at times. We’ve all been through so much together, more than anyone should go through. Being a high level criminal with a group of your best friends is… Uniquely singular.”

 

“How so?” Ava hoped it wasn’t too obvious that she was desperate for more detail.

“When it’s good, it’s great. I know how grim everything looks right now, but I promise you, Ava… The great is really great.” The expression on Beatrice’s face didn’t totally match her words, but Ava still nodded along. “But the bad… We’ve lost people. And even of those left, I’ve washed their blood off my hands more times than I can count.” 

 

“Speaking of which…” Ava trailed off, watching Mary step out of the house and quickly cross the yard. Had she always been this cool, or was it just the accountant backstory finally washing away? For what seemed like the millionth time, Ava felt like an idiot. No one aside from Camilla seemed like the ‘sit behind a desk’ type let alone the ‘sit behind a desk and do math all day’ type.

 

“Shannon called.” Mary stuffed her phone back into her pocket before continuing. “We should be able to leave tonight. And better yet, I think we have a good use for Vincent.” She was slightly more formal than normal, likely a side effect of her guilt over what happened. Ava looked silently between them both, there seemed to be so much communicated between their words… And she really needed to get Beatrice’s face cleaned up. It was a mess, a mess probably deserving of another set of stitches. 

 

“What did you have in mind?” Beatrice asked, seemingly unbothered, though Ava could sense an undercurrent of tension in her too-still posture. She looked like a rubber band that was stretched nearly to the point of snapping.

“Lilith’s idea, actually.” Mary stood almost as still as Beatrice. Ava, meanwhile, felt wildly fidgety. Was she always this fidgety? Or was everyone else just weird? “He’ll be excellent bait.”

 

“Oh… Good idea.” Beatrice glanced at Ava, then focused back on Mary. “Adriel’s people will have to pick him up again. Either he gave us information, or they’ll think he has information on us.” 

“Well, he does have some information,” conceded Mary. “Not anything they probably don’t already know, but still. Depending on how well they know him, he could spin a lie, I’m sure.” 

 

“He can.” Beatrice sounded certain so Ava believed her.

“And Ava?” Mary turned to face her more fully. Up until this point, Ava felt childish in a way she loathed. Standing aside, in a ‘the grownups are talking’ sort of way, well, Ava needed to find a way past that. “We’ll need your help with this as well.” 

“With what?” It was hard for Ava to imagine any of them needing help with anything. They were all so damn capable!

“Small surgery. Nothing crazy.” Mary winked. Oh boy…

Chapter 23: Reflex

Summary:

Ava's first real taste.

“So you’re chipping me like a dog, is that it?” Vincent didn’t seem as appalled as Ava thought he should be, but perhaps considering everything else he’d experienced, this was a mere drop in the bucket. Somewhat worrying, or perhaps not, Ava felt no guilt at slicing open the skin between his shoulder blades sans anaesthetic. And, to Vincent’s credit, he didn’t complain. With too-gentle fingers, she pressed the chip into his flesh, and carefully sewed the wound back shut. 

 

“Basically.” Mary shrugged. Ava rose, quickly cleaning off her tools and accounting for them all in her bag.

“As much as it pains me to say this, I don’t intend on letting them take you.” Lilith was all venom, harsh in a way that made Ava more sad than anything else. This was a cruel world they inhabited. “But it’s a precaution.” 

 

Ava retreated to the edge of the room, hating to be in the centre of it. Still, she felt Beatrice’s careful gaze follow her, dark eyes beneath yet another injury.

“Vincent.” Shannon said his name forcefully, taking control of the room as she did. Her leadership seemed effortless. “You have a role to play here. You play it well, we keep you alive. You try and pull some of your infamous bullshit, then I will gun you down myself.”

 

“I get it.” He held his hands up, wincing slightly as he did. Ava hated how trustworthy he sounded at that moment. Was she an idiot or was Vincent the most convincing man alive? “I get it,” he repeated. “Now what’s the plan?” The question had a familiarity to it, as if it had been asked a thousand times before. All at once, Ava realised it probably had. 

 

“Make a run for it. Go home, collect your things, and then try and get out of town.” Camila told him with a quiet confidence. “Obviously we aren’t going to let you get away, but we’ll also intercept Adriel’s men when they get to you.”

“What’s to stop them from besting you again?” Vincent asked with a sneer, revealing his snake-like disposition once more.

 

“I am.” Beatrice bit in reply. Ava didn’t doubt her. 

“So help me God, Vincent, if you fuck this up I will put you in the ground.” Mary added.

“Don’t take the Lord’s name in vain,” was all he replied. Odd. Ava stayed silent. She wanted to know what her role was in this, if she even had one beyond the dog-chipping duties.

“Yeah, I think it’s a little late for your godliness,” muttered Lilith. Without another word, she strode across the room and walked out onto the patio, leaving the door open. It was clear Vincent’s presence had them all on edge, not just Beatrice. Hey, maybe Ava was starting to notice more!

 

Once Vincent was properly restrained in the living room, they joined Lilith outside to dig into the details beyond his earshot. The scene was strange, as (what was becoming) usual. To an outsider, they looked like a group of friends sitting by the pool on a cool but sunny California day. Of course, the content of the conversation dispelled that fantasy almost immediately. 

 

“Obviously we don’t know exactly where Adriel’s base of operations is.” Camila was pointing to various marked locations on her computer screen. “But he has laundering facilities here, here, here,” she kept pointing, “here, and here.” Clicking the arrow key, she advanced to the next graphic. Ava idly wondered if the organised crime part had a double meaning - did Camila make colour-coded binders, too? “It would be stupid to keep them too far away, especially with traffic. I think we can safely assume he is operating somewhere in the northwest, near the coast.”

 

“The few financial details I found corroborate that,” added Lilith. “I know he’s bought at least four boats in the last year and only one of them seems to be a ‘fun’ purchase. The rest seem better suited for making an escape, and a waterway certainly helps.”

“That, and he has a few ties to some major shipping companies.” Mary pulled a business card out of her pocket, which bore the logo of a massive importer. “But I’m not sure if he is using his connections to launder money or import illegal cargo. Maybe both.”

 

“What’s…” Ava trailed off. Her question seemed stupid. Was this even her place to talk? Too late, everyone’s eyes were on her.

“What’s what?” Prompted Shannon.

“What’s ‘illegal goods’ in this case?” 

“Maybe guns.” Mary frowned, it was clear she didn’t want to provide a ton of detail here. “Maybe some type of trafficking… It was hard to tell from the manifests I was able to find.” In response, Ava only nodded.

 

“Three groups makes sense.” Beatrice jumped a bit ahead, though she rested her hand on Ava’s knee beneath the table. “Someone needs to follow Vincent, which I’d like to do if there are no objections, and then the other two groups will need to find and intercept Adriel’s men. I have no doubt given that the prize is not only Vincent, but ourselves too, that they’ll send a team.” 

“No objections.” Camila replied with a smile. A smile! Truly, Camila was a sunshine that couldn’t be dimmed. “If we work this right, we should be able to find where they’re operating from, too.”

 

“So what group am I in?” Ava asked. It was almost comical how quickly everyone turned to stare at her. And sure, the concept of diving into something like this was terrifying, but she didn’t want to just sit alone and wait for everyone to (hopefully) return. She needed to do something. This was all she had left in life. As for what that truly meant, Ava didn’t know. But for some odd reason, she wanted to. She felt herself drawn to it in a way she was fearful of. 

 

“Mine,” answered Beatrice after a moment’s hesitation. “You can come with me to follow Vincent.” This was both a surprise and not. Ava feared that Beatrice would have shut her down, refusing to let Ava participate all together. At the same time, this allowed them to be close, letting Beatrice keep an eye on Ava. To protect her, even. Had Beatrice’s feelings for her always been so obvious? “There is also a possibility that they know where we are. Leaving you alone here could… Could be a death sentence.” Her hesitation was telling. Again, Ava only nodded.

 

The team quickly dove into specifics, and try as she might, Ava couldn’t stay focused. Her eyes found Beatrice, face unreadable beyond her stress and intelligence. There was so much Ava wanted to discuss, but there was quite a bit standing in their way. Beyond that, Ava was fighting a weird combo of anxiety and excitement at the imposing concept of her first criminal operation. By the time night fell, she was positively vibrating with terrified enthusiasm. 

 

“Here.” Beatrice pressed a pistol into Ava’s hand once they were alone in the garage. Alongside it, a holster that would hide the weapon beneath her hoodie. “Do you need help putting it on?”

“I… Yes.” Ava wanted to say no, but couldn’t. Instead, she pulled off the sweatshirt and allowed Beatrice to run the leather straps around her torso, while also pressing a gentle kiss to the back of Ava’s neck.

 

“Keep the safety on at all times.” Beatrice flipped it on, showing Ava. “Unless you’re about to shoot, which I pray you won’t need to.”

“Alright.” Ava slid the weapon away.
“And these can go in your pocket.” She handed Ava two additional clips. “Overkill, perhaps, but if you’re walking into this, I’d really like you to be prepared.” Beatrice’s overt formality was as clear cut a sign of her nervousness as Ava was going to get.

 

“I know you don’t want me to come. You can just say that.” Ava whispered, as Beatrice knelt before her, strapping a knife to Ava’s calf. Her hands froze at the accusation, and it took a few seconds for Beatrice to rise and face her. 

“That’s just it, though. I do want you to. Just… Perhaps not for reasons you’d like. Definitely not for reasons I like.” She took a deep breath and pulled the canvas cover off the sports car that filled most of the garage. It was blacked out and expensive looking, but that was all Ava’s limited car knowledge told her.

 

“Well what are your reasons?” Ava couldn’t help but ask. She didn’t get into the car just yet, they had a few minutes to wait before Vincent ‘stole’ Beatrice’s car and made a break for it.

“I want to be around you.” At that, Beatrice smiled a rare smile, but it fell away just as quickly. “And if you’re here, I can keep you safe. If something goes wrong, I’ll have no one to blame but myself.” 

 

“I mean I could do something stupid.” 

“But you won’t… Right?” 

“Not intentionally.” Ava tried to be reassuring. 

“Not intentionally.” Beatrice repeated Ava’s reply. “Alright. I guess I can work with that.” 

 

Before they could delve too much more into Beatrice’s reasons, Vincent made a half-hearted break for the car. He couldn’t really run, not in the state he was in, even with the handful of painkillers Ava had given him. Instead, he settled for a fast walk, ‘stealing’ Beatrice’s car with ease. Now it was go time.

 

Without a word, Beatrice climbed into the driver’s seat, and Ava followed suit. From her bag, she retrieved the tablet Camila had given her, which showed not only a map of the surrounding city, but also an idiot-proof red dot that represented Vincent’s position.

“I wish we could see everyone else on this, too.” Ava commented as they pulled out of the driveway. 

“It wouldn’t be safe.” 

 

“Why?” 

“Because if we get killed, and someone finds that… Well, it might as well be a massive sign that says, ‘hey kill the rest of us. We are right here.’” Beatrice answered with a frown. Her driving was very controlled for the time being, she clearly didn’t want to draw any attention to her pursuit just yet. 

 

“So we just have to trust that everyone is in perfect position?” 

“Yes. I trust them with my life.” The corner of Beatrice’s mouth twitched up into a smile. Ava loved to see that. Already the act of Beatrice driving had a certain attractiveness to it, but the devilish little smirk was just extra. Oh God, she wasn’t focused at all. 

“But not mine?” And all at once, it came crashing down once more.

 

Beatrice didn’t reply right away. Instead, there were several seconds of stretched silence, that seemed much longer than they probably were.

“Logically, I do.” She sighed heavily, then continued. “But if something were to happen to you, I think I’d blame whoever it was forever, even if the situation was completely out of their control.”

“That seems harsh.”

“And illogical. I’m aware. My feelings for you have not been easy to balance.”

 

“No, I imagine not.” Ava allowed herself a grin. “Such frivolous emotions throw off the absolute perfection that is Beatrice.” 

“Are you teasing me?” Beatrice asked, while glancing down at the tablet to get her next direction.

“Yes. Obviously. I’m trying to alleviate some of the tension.” 

 

“I don’t want there to be tension.”

“Well, me neither. But there is. No matter how you look at it, this is a tense situation.” 

“Fair.” Beatrice took a sharp turn, driving a bit more aggressively than she had been prior. They must be getting closer to Vincent’s place. “I wish we could begin our relationship under more normal circumstances.”

 

“Oooh, our relationship.” Again, Ava joked. She couldn’t help it. She was tense. Clearly, so was Beatrice; Ava watched her grip tighten against the steering wheel. Her driving tightened too, as Beatrice whipped the car around tight turns at speeds higher than Ava thought possible. At least, without flipping the car. But she drove an old Camry, so what did she know?

“Yes.” Beatrice’s jaw looked strained beneath the fading bruise that decorated the side of her face. “Our relationship. I know you’re nervous but the joking around worries me.”

 

“I know.” Frowning, Ava continued. “I can see it on your face.” 

“Am I that obvious?” Beatrice’s voice was even, and sounded more at ease than she looked. Doubly so considering the speed at which she was driving. 

“You are to me,” concluded Ava. She glanced back down at the tablet, somewhat surprised to find that Vincent’s dot had stopped moving. 

“Oh.” A quiet whisper from Beatrice was all Ava got in reply.

 

“Do you -”

“No.” 

“You don’t even know what I was going to ask.” Ava glanced over at Beatrice in the dim interior of the car.

“Was it something about tracking Vincent?” Beatrice pulled into the parking lot of a church.

 

“...Maybe.” Ava followed Beatrice from the vehicle. The parking lot was empty, and the church’s interior looked dark, empty. “He lives in a church?”

“Vincent has a… Complicated relationship with religion.” Beatrice explained in a whisper, while climbing the front steps to the church door. Her hand was surreptitiously tucked beneath her jacket. 

 

“Like you?”

“I…” Beatrice froze in place. “I’ve never talked to you about that.”

“It was kind of obvious, if we’re being honest. I mean, I’m not naïve about everything. ” Ava shot Beatrice a grin, before kicking open the door… Except it wasn’t locked and she took an awkward step forward into the dark hall.

 

“Ava!” Beatrice whisper-screamed. “What happened to being careful?” 

“Sorry, sorry.” Ava didn’t really feel sorry at all. More nervous, but also with a tinge of excitement that she couldn’t quite place. “Please, lead the way.” She gestured towards the next set of doors, open to the dim church. Exterior streetlights lent just enough colour to the massive floor to ceiling stained glass windows, a beautiful juxtaposition.

 

“I think his room is upstairs.” Beatrice unholstered her weapon and crept forward between the pews, silent save for her words. Ava tried to focus but it was hard to feel much danger, she trusted Beatrice so immensely, so deeply, that it was hard to believe anything bad could happen. “Past the pulpit.” She gestured to a side door at the front of the room. “I wonder if he preaches here…” It was hard not to wonder if Beatrice’s last comment was rhetorical. 

 

Without any further conversation, they crept through the hauntingly-lit church. Mere seconds stretched into hours as they moved towards the door. There was a smear of blood on the handle and despite her best efforts, Ava couldn’t fully suppress her worry for her ‘patient.’ Seemingly not bothered, Beatrice pulled the door open and climbed the ensuing stairs two at a time, still silent. Ava filed the mental image away for later, despite her attempts at focus, Beatrice was too attractive to ignore. 

 

“Fuck.” Beatrice lowered her weapon upon reaching the living quarters above the church’s main hall. She was frustrated for good reason, though, the room was empty. Vincent had clearly been there, though, as the room was messy and anointed with the occasional drop of fresh blood. 

“He couldn’t have gotten far.” In her mind’s eye, Ava could clearly picture Vincent’s wounds. 

“Agreed but this is still a deviation from the plan, and a tax on a trust that was already extremely limited.” 

 

Ava stood silently as Beatrice poked around a bit longer. Not much longer, though, as Ava was never one to hold her tongue. 

“What do we do now?”

“Find Vincent.” Beatrice moved back towards the door. “It’s likely he is still in the building. It’s what I would do… Stay close to me.”

 

Creeping back down the stairs, Ava tried (and failed) to unwind the tension that had built between her shoulder blades. She felt as if she would burst. There was, however, and Ava couldn’t deny it any longer, a bit of thrill to this. Crime. She corrected herself, this was a crime. Well, it wasn’t yet. Maybe trespassing. Exhaling, Ava shook her head. She needed to focus. 

 

Her head was only slightly less congested with nonsense by the time they reached the church’s main hall. It was as eerie as it had been a few minutes ago, with ambient street lights painting bits of colour from the stained glass windows. Beatrice crept forward, soundless, with a tight grip on her handgun. Even from behind, the determination and discipline in her movements was painfully obvious. And yes, attractive. Ava wouldn’t deny herself of that admittance.

 

Beatrice’s next move was sudden, beyond sudden, instinctual like the reflex of a deer hearing a hunter. She threw her arm back into Ava, pushing her back, just as the windows nearest to them burst into a colourful mess of shards. Falling backwards, awkwardly off balance, Ava fell in what felt like slow motion - time slowed as Beatrice deftly raised her weapon. Two assailants laid dead over the window’s threshold before Ava realised she was on the ground. 

 

From the ground, Ava reached for her weapon, which was awkwardly wrapped beneath her hoodie. Sure, she wasn’t an experienced criminal, but years of working in the ER had all but blunted what would be considered a normal adrenaline response. The effort was for naught, though, as Beatrice quickly dropped to a knee, ducking behind a pew as a few silenced bullets chipped away at the church’s stone walls behind her. 

 

Rising at the first pause in fire, Beatrice emotionlessly steadied herself, for two more shots towards the church’s main door. She quickly reloaded her weapon. Only then did she turn to Ava. 

“Are you okay?” Beatrice asked the obvious, and offered a hand to pick Ava up off the floor.

“Embarrassed, mostly.” Ava held her gun awkwardly in one hand, while taking Beatrice’s in the other. “And feeling pretty useless.” 

 

For a moment, Beatrice held Ava’s gaze silently, regarding her in a way that felt very new, odd for how long they’d known one another. Beatrice pressed a hand to Ava’s cheek, then ran a thumb along Ava’s temple. 

“You’re bleeding.” She pulled her hand away, complete with a healthy dose of Ava’s blood running across it. That alone, that weird singular moment, awakened something very visceral in Ava that she didn’t quite understand, nor could she put words to. It almost felt like hunger.

 

“Stray piece of glass, I’m sure.” Once again, Ava found herself struggling to focus on what was important. “Let’s find Vincent.”

“Yes. Let’s.” Beatrice gave her one more long look, before continuing to move to the other end of the church. 

“Could he be in the basement?” Ava asked in a whisper as they approached the entryway. “If people came through the windows and front door…” She tried to ignore the bodies scattered around the holy building. A sepulchre, now.

 

“Good instincts,” replied Beatrice. She crept towards the staircase that led down below. “Fresh spot of blood on the carpet right there.” She gestured with her weapon, to a spot on the carpet no bigger than the head of an eraser. 

“Let’s go.” Ava hoped less… Whatever than she was. Her spine tingled as she followed Beatrice down the stairs into the dusty basement. Was that her instinct?

 

First observation, it was darker down there. Ava had to squint to make out anything from the tiny amount of light that reached the basement. But sight wasn’t her only sense, she reminded herself. There was a tiny, tiny scuffling noise from inside a big, wooden cabinet. Slightly desperate to prove herself, she pulled open the door to reveal a somewhat-ailing Vincent. And while it might have been dark in that basement, it wasn’t dark enough to cover the look on Beatrice’s face, a look somewhere between surprise, awe, and frustration… And fear. 

 

“How many?” Vincent asked in a whisper, hand clutching his wound.

“Four.” Beatrice answered at once, clearly not needing a moment to think about what the question even meant.

“One more.” His reply was as ominous as it was short, and Ava realised two things in very close succession. First, how many attackers. Second, the basement may have been dark, but it had no other doors. She turned towards the staircase, just in time to see a dark figure cross the threshold. 

 

To say Ava’s reaction was entirely conscious wouldn’t be accurate, but it certainly wasn’t muscle memory, either. Her bullet pierced the man’s shoulder, and Beatrice’s followed a moment later. 

“Maybe I underestimated you,” mumbled Vincent. Beatrice shot him a look, before pulling her phone from her pocket. She didn’t even glance at Ava before putting the device to her ear and turning towards the stairs. Her words were audible even as she walked back up to the main floor.
“Status?.... Perfect…. Yes, we’re good here…. See you soon.”

Notes:

sorry for not updating in freaking forever i have been on an off homeless since april so working on fanfics wasnt a priority (lol what a ridiculous sentence). ANYWAYS my life has more or less stabilized now so hello to anyone who still is reading

Chapter 24: The Brink

Notes:

Ava was only distracted by Beatrice’s departure for a moment, as Vincent tumbled from the cabinet. In the dark church basement, Ava could hear only her heartbeat as he laid motionless on the floor. She’d just shot someone - but there was no rest for the wicked. “Bea! Get down here!” Ava shouted up the stairs, flinging off the moment of shock as she had done a thousand times before at work. Kneeling beside Vincent, she deftly flipped him over onto the dark carpet.

 

It was a new wound, fuck. Ava heard Beatrice’s steps coming back down the stairs. The stab wound reopening would be one thing, but Vincent’s cockroach-like mystique wouldn’t be able to surmount this. Even without any of her supplies, even without taking any measurements, Ava had seen enough death to know what was coming. Pale face, shallow breath, a massive amount of blood. She put it together at once, the blood she’d seen upstairs was from a new injury, a wound Vincent received… Protecting them?

 

“What is…” Beatrice trailed off as she saw him, joining Beatrice on the floor in an instant. “Shit.” Surprisingly gentle, Ava watched as Beatrice took one of Vincent’s limp hands in her own. “Vin, can you hear me?”

“I’m sure you don’t need me to tell you this, but he’s -”

“I know,” interrupted Beatrice. “I know.” 

 

Hating not being able to do anything more than just sit there, Ava observed Beatrice. Given everything, the tenderness towards Vincent was surprising. But also wasn’t - they’d been close once, right? He stayed alive to warn them, he stayed alive to complete the mission. Was that enough for redemption? Hard to say, and Ava knew she was far from having enough information - and it wasn’t her call to make. 

 

Vincent’s breaths grew shallower, his face paler. Ava glanced over at Beatrice. Damage wrought by Vincent himself was still painful across her face. Her head was tipped downard, eyes closed, lips moving imperceptibly quiet. Was she… praying? Since when did Beatrice pray? Yet again, Ava felt the pang of not truly knowing her best friend.

“Amen,” concluded Beatrice, aloud now. Vincent took his final breath. “We need to burn this place down.” Callously, Beatrice pulled his keys and wallet from his pocket, stuffing them into her jacket.

 

“What?” Ava rose, following Beatrice back to the staircase. How stoic she’d become once again, though Ava swore she saw the tiniest glint of a tear in the dark basement. “Why?”

“Too much evidence.” Beatrice took the stairs two at a time. “And I don’t want them to know we lost Vincent. At least not yet. He was still valuable leverage that we just lost.” 

“He was a person, Beatrice.” 

 

“You think I don’t know that?!” Beatrice’s biting reply was somewhat of a surprise. Biting too was the callous way she dragged one of the men she shot over the threshold of the window. She dragged the second corpse over the adjacent window, before continuing to speak. “He also tried to kill me, he tried to kill all of us.” Her jaw was tight as she finished speaking, frustrated and emotionally raw. Beatrice’s emotions were becoming less and less of a mystery to Ava, though hard to witness.

 

“He was also your friend, once.” 

“Ava, please.” Beatrice’s hands shook, she balled them into fists, then opened them back up again. “I can’t.” Her voice cracked on the last word. As a weak cover, she picked up a bible from the pew shelf, and began ripping out its pages, scattering them across the floor. Unsure of what else to do, Ava followed suit. Her emotions were so raw, she didn’t even know where to begin.

 

Yet compartmentalization was always an option - and not even a bad one, right? Ava didn’t need to think about Beatrice’s spiral, or her own, or the fact that she just shot someone with shockingly little thought, or the fact that she barely knew her best friend after years of lies, or the fact that she was in love with -

“So…” Ava spoke aloud, if only to throw her train of thought off the tracks. “Favourite passage?” She ripped out another handful of bible pages and tossed them on the floor.

 

For a few heavy seconds, Beatrice said nothing. “Be alert and of sober mind. Your enemy the devil prowls around like a roaring lion looking for someone to devour. Resist him, standing firm in the faith, because you know that the family of believers throughout the world is undergoing the same kind of sufferings.”

“Did you just have that memorised and ready to go?” There was a teasing edge in Ava’s voice, one that she hoped lightened the tension a little bit.

 

“I suppose I did…” Beatrice paused for a moment, pensive. She stood in front of the sepulchre, to Ava she looked holy. “Though favourite, I don’t know if I’d go that far.”

“Hopefully you don’t get sick of me prying into your life. I need to know you again.” 

“Need?” Across the room, Beatrice made incredibly loaded eye contact with Ava from across the room.

“Yes. Need.” Ava sighed and retrieved yet another Bible to scatter across the floor. How symbolic. “That, and I really don’t want to sit in silence with my thoughts right now.” 

 

Another pause. Finally, “I understand,” from Beatrice. “You desire to be involved aside, it feels like too much, too quickly.”

“And yet I’m handling it far better than you anticipated, right?” Ava tried to sound upbeat, tried to sound hopeful. She felt unsuccessful.

“Honestly, yes. Truly.” Beatrice continued making a mess of the place, scuffed wooden floors coated in thin, ripped passages. How darkly symbolic. “I don’t think I’ll be quick to forget how you just shot someone.”

 

“Not very accurately, though.” In the moment it took her to blink, Ava saw his silhouette in the dark, jerking backwards as the bullet caught him in the shoulder. 

“Was the accuracy on purpose?” The question was pointed, but asked in a way that made it seem like Beatrice already knew the answer. 

“I… No,” sighed Ava. And she wasn’t lying - the moment of impact played over in her mind. She wasn’t an experienced marksman, but she did intend to kill. And shockingly, it wasn’t even her first. “I am a killer now.” 

 

“What happened at the hospital was a bit different than this. At least, I think it was.” Beatrice threw several half-ripped bibles down the basement stairs, where Vincent’s dead body still lay. “You chose to be here.” Her tone was impossible to decipher, but it was far from malicious.

“I feel bad because I don’t feel as bad as I should.” Ava stopped with the papery debris for a moment, instead opting to grip the back of the pew in front of her, a weak attempt at grounding. She needed to focus. Everything was so distracting. Beatrice was so distracting, especially in the moody, colourful half-light of the church.

 

“Care to explain?” There was still such a formality about Beatrice at times, oddly comforting, as it was one of the few things that hadn’t changed for Ava recently. 

“When he came down the stairs, I barely had a conscious thought beyond ‘it’s him or you.’” Pausing, Ava took a deep breath. “I’ve spent so much of my life trying to help and save others. This shift, I… I should feel worse. Guilty. Guilier, at least.”

 

“Should I feel guilty?” Whatever Ava had expected Beatrice to ask, it wasn’t that. She didn’t have an immediate answer, but Beatrice filled the heavy silence. “I’ve done far worse than you, and far more.”

“No. I don’t know. No.” Ava waffled, indecisive and not at the same time. “No. You’re Beatrice. You’re a good person. Despite everything, I still know you. I know who you are.”

 

“I have my moments of guilt. Not often, but sometimes.” Beatrice crossed the room, towards the sepulchre table stacked with candles. It was hard to tell in the dim light, but it looked like she was blushing. “More than anything, I want… Need you to be okay.”

“I will be.” And despite all the uncertainty as of late, Ava was certain of this. If she had Beatrice, everything would be fine.

“Is that a promise?” Beatrice asked, as she lit several candles on the table. 

“Yes.”

“I’d like to discuss this more later, but it’s time to go.” Without further comment, Beatrice tipped over the table, and flames quickly licked across the paper-laden floor. Within minutes, the pews and floors would go up in flames.

 

In retreating from the building, Ava stopped in the doorway and watched the rapid progress of the flames. This was crazy. This was crazy! She just leveraged a hostage to kidnap a rival gang member. And now they were burning down a building. Normally she just spent the evening with a pint of cookie dough ice cream and a trashy TV show… Did she love this?

 

“I need you to drive my car.” Beatrice’s voice brought Ava back to reality, as did the touch of Beatrice’s hand against hers as the keys were exchanged. “I’ll send you the address.”

“Okay.” Ava took the keys. She knew she should be moving faster, she could hear the fire building behind her, but her thoughts felt so congested. Conflicted. Excited? She could see the reflection of the fire in Beatrice’s eyes, and couldn’t help but wonder if she’d looked the same way on that fateful night. 

 

“Okay?” The concern in Beatrice’s face and voice was obvious.

“Okay.” Ava managed a smile, then reached out to pull Beatrice into her. She needed the warmth and contact. “Can I drive like a criminal?”

“What on earth does that mean?” Beatrice chuckled though, and wrapped her arms around Ava, making no move to rush her or shun the contact. 

 

“You’ll see,” whispered Ava. “You’ll see why they stopped letting me drive the ambulance back when I was an EMT.”

“Uh oh.” Beatrice laughed. “Just don’t get pulled over. That gun doesn’t have a serial number.”

“Got it.” Ava pulled herself away from Beatrice, painful as it was to do so. “Let’s go.” 

“Let’s.” Beatrice nodded. “I’ll see you there.”

 

Climbing into the car, Ava felt like a woman possessed. Starting the engine and hearing it purr only reaffirmed the emotion. This was a far, far nicer car than she’d ever driven before. And hey, if this was her life now, why not enjoy it? Would Beatrice approve of this being her life? Is this really what she wanted? Shaking her head, Ava pushed those hard-to-answer questions away for now. Best to just enjoy the now, focus on the difficulties later.

 

Taking a few difficult deep breaths, Ava lowered the mirror on the sun visor. The little built in light lit up the blood on her face, damaged cuts from the exploding glass of the attack. She looked wild. On the passenger seat beside her, her phone lit up, likely the address from Beatrice. Feeling as though she was on the brink, Ava shifted the car into gear. It was time.

Chapter 25: Need for Speed

Notes:

i desperately want to write a zombie apocalypse fic despite the laundry list of unfinished shit hanging over my head

“Holy shit, Ava. I’m not letting you drive anymore.” Beatrice smiled as she exited the vehicle beside Ava. Beneath that smile was an undercurrent of worry, clear enough, and it seemed Beatrice was trying just as hard to push her feelings away as Ava was. 

“What can I say?” Ava wasn’t one to look a moment of fun in the mouth, regardless of circumstances. “I’ve got the need for speed.”

 

“You’re going to have the need for speed…ing ticket if you’re not careful.” Beatrice turned towards the unmarked warehouse, their destination, before turning back to Ava. “Ready?” As if to punctuate the question, there was a muffled scream from within. 

“As I’ll ever be.” Again, Ava knew she should be more alarmed, but she couldn’t seem to summon the requisite emotions from within. Not for lack of genuine effort, though.

 

Without further comment, Beatrice led Ava to a side door, with a complex-looking lock. In silence, Ava watched Beatrice press a thumb to the sensor, then enter a ridiculously long code. It was impossible for Ava not to wonder how everyone kept their codes memorised. She didn’t have time to wonder long, though, as the door swung open revealing the dim warehouse within. 

 

This, succinctly, was more in line with what she’d pictured when finding out about her friends’ criminal lifestyle. A dank, dark warehouse in the sketchy shipping district, two men tied to chairs mid-torture, a bank of servers, and several project cars. There were also a few side doors, containing rooms that Ava could only assume their function. 

 

“Glad to see you two made it in one piece.” Lilith greeted them both with a grim smile. Her nose was cut deeply along the bridge, lending her already sharp appearance a little extra edge. “Ava, you certainly seem to be assimilating.” She paused for a moment, and the grin fell from her face. “Where’s Vi-”

“Dead,” interrupted Beatrice. But he died helping us, if that makes you feel any better.

 

“I… I’m not sure how it makes me feel.” It was a rare moment of candor for Lilith, at least as far as Ava had ever witnessed. “Maybe I’ll have an answer when all this is over. But right now…” She trailed off, looking behind her as Mary threw a punch across the captive man’s face. “Right now we have more pressing concerns.”

“I feel the same.” Beatrice only nodded, cold. “I assume no one’s talked yet?” 

 

“Not yet.” Lilith replied. Behind her, Shannon knelt beside one of the men, and whispered something that Ava wasn’t able to hear. “Cam is in the office, if you’d rather wait there.” Ava had to assume that was said for her benefit.

“I can handle it.” Ava couldn’t help but interject.

“We know.” Beatrice was the first to answer. “We know.” She repeated. “But I do have a few things to discuss with Camila.” 

 

She turned, leaving Ava to make a choice. More desperate than she’d like to prove herself, she stayed in the main room, and sat on the desk next to Lilith’s. It was drafty in the warehouse, and cold, but Ava still felt completely overheated. Part of her felt like a little bit of distance from Beatrice might help that heat. Hopefully. While Ava still felt conflicted about her descent into crime, she didn’t want anyone (least of all Beatrice) to assume that Ava’s actions were that of a lovesick puppy. They weren’t.

 

“How’d it go?” Lilith’s question interrupted Ava’s thoughts. “I have a feeling I’ll get a more complete answer from you than I will from Beatrice.” 

“Probably.” Ava nodded and took a moment to collect her thoughts. “Other than Vincent’s death, everything went more or less according to plan.”

“More or less.” Here, Lilith grinned, despite the darkness in her eyes. There was a dangerous attractiveness in the expression that Ava couldn’t help but appreciate. Definitely something to debrief with Camila about later.

 

“I shot someone,” admitted Ava. “And Vincent died. And we had to burn the church down… So maybe leaning towards the less in that statement.”

“How many were there?” There was an understanding in Lilith’s voice that Ava hadn’t expected. A new kindness, maybe even an acceptance? Perhaps Ava was just being hopeful.

“Five.” If Ava didn’t understand the gravity of that before, she certainly did now, as Lilith pulled in a sharp breath. It was a lot of men to commit to a mere fraction of the team. “Burning down the church was to hide that our… Leverage was dead.”

 

“I figured.” Lilith nodded. Ava felt dumb. Of course Lilith would understand without the extra clarification. “If we can get something out of these two,” she gestured to the two men being interrogated by Shannon and Mary, “it’ll be a moot point. Hopefully.”

“You sound less confident than I would have expected.”

“Yeah, well, Adriel seems to have the upper hand on us at every move, which is something we haven’t experienced in a very long time. We all need to be on our toes.”

 

“Even me?” Ava asked with a semi-joking tone, though Lilith’s reply was darkly serious.

“Especially you. Your inexperience makes you a target, and your closeness to Beatrice compounds that by several magnitudes.”

“Oh. Well… Tell me how you really feel.” It was a weak, weak joke, but Ava couldn’t make herself stay silent. Thankfully, she was saved by Beatrice and Camila’s re-entry into the room.

 

Without sparing Ava a look, Beatrice walked across the room and joined Mary and Shannon. Camila, meanwhile, stood between Ava and Lilith.

“Do you mind if I take a crack at him?” Beatrice asked Mary in a quiet voice. Mary might be bigger and more physically intimidating, but Ava couldn’t ignore the look in Beatrice’s eyes at that moment. She looked like a predator. 

“Go for it.” 

 

Following Mary’s reply, Ava felt that all she could do was watch. She felt rooted in place and immensely conflicted, while simultaneously being wildly obsessed. Time slowed down, the moment felt pivotal in its importance. Ava couldn’t help but feel like this, even after everything else they’d been through, that this was the litmus test. 

 

Slowly, letting the chair drag loudly on the floor, Beatrice pulled a chair up the one of the captive men. She sat down, facing him. From within her jacket, she pulled out her handgun, and rested it on her leg, pointed outwards.

“You’re familiar with this model?” Beatrice waited, pointedly, until the man slowly nodded. “Great. It has 15 rounds.”

 

Again, there was a pregnant pause. Ava felt herself grow nervous, even though she wasn’t the one on trial here. Beatrice picked up the gun again, expertly ejecting the mag and removing ten of the bullets. She spoke as she reloaded the now half-empty gun.

“And I’m even in a good enough mood to give you a head start… I’m going to ask a few questions. If you tell the truth, I’ll take a bullet out. By the time I’m done asking, I’m going to put this gun to your head. Do we understand each other?” 

 

Beatrice received a nod in reply. She leaned back, going so far as to cross her legs. Ava could see the unease though, despite the look in Beatrice’s eyes. Was it Ava’s presence? Was it something else? They were overdue for a conversation that wasn’t mid-crime.

“Where’s Adriel’s main base of operations?” Neither the man in front of her, nor the other one, spoke. Beatrice waited patiently for what seemed like an eternity, but was realistically less than a minute. 

 

“You know what I hate about interrogating a made man? They think they know the playbook… Like you.” She turned slightly to her right, to the other captured man. “You’re the insurance, right? If we can’t get the him to talk, we’ll turn to you?” Both of them just stared, angry and unmoving beyond the blood that slowly ran down their faces. “Wrong.” With insanely quick movements, Beatrice shot the insurance. Ava flinched despite herself.

 

“And now you’ve only got four bullets left. See, I did you a favor!” She turned her full attention back to their only living captive.

“Edge of downtown... Shipping warehouse at the dock on the far end of third street… You’d never make it through the gates.”

“That’s an answer. I’ll take it.” Beatrice quickly removed another bullet from her gun. “What’s he trafficking down there?”

 

He didn’t answer immediately, but he did answer eventually. “Mostly guns.”

“Okay. Half truth. I’ll take it.” She removed another bullet from her handgun. Only two remained.

“Look, he doesn’t tell us that much.” The man spoke quickly, he sounded desperate. Beatrice must have gotten to him, and Ava didn’t blame him. Even she felt rattled, and she was just an observer. “He really doesn’t. Even those of us in the inner circle are kept in the dark - seriously. ”

 

“What else do you know?” Beatrice looked down at her handgun and sighed, more dramatic than Ava had ever known her to be. “Think carefully, it could save your life.” 

“He is… Very intent on removing you five… Six.” His eyes met Ava’s and she couldn’t keep herself from shivering. Was she afraid or was it something else? 

“Why?” Beatrice was insistent.

 

“I don’t know.” The man sighed and turned his gaze back towards the floor. He seemed resigned to death. “I really don’t.”

“I’ll take your word for it.” Beatrice removed the last two bullets from her gun. It seemed she could tell he was speaking the truth. In an odd way, Ava felt she could tell too. Pointed the weapon upwards, she pulled the trigger, letting it click a few times for dramatic effect. “It seems you’re free to go.”

 

“Really?” He looked up. Only then did Ava notice that Shannon had shifted to an angle slightly behind their prison.

“Really.” Beatrice wore an odd expression here, one that Ava had never seen before. It fell from her face a moment later, as Shannon’s single shot echoed through the cavernous warehouse. Ava felt herself flinch yet again. 

 

While Shannon, Mary, and Lilith quickly began preparing to dispose of the evidence, Beatrice rose, solemn, and wiped the splattered blood off her face. Ava caught her before she’d take more than a few steps from the bodies.

“What was that?! He answered your questions!” Ava pressed a hand to Beatrice’s shoulder, a weak attempt to hold the woman in place. Beatrice made no attempt to move away from Ava - the gesture was unnecessary. 

 

“He was a made man, Ava. One of Adriel’s men. He would have been hunted down and killed if we let him go.” Beatrice sighed. “This was a win, and in some ways, a kindness to him.”

“It doesn’t feel like a win.” 

“No.” At the very least, Ava took some comfort in Beatrice’s darkness. She knew Beatrice thought herself a monster, but a monster would have revelled in the cruelty - and caused more. “No, they often don’t.” Beatrice slipped under Ava’s arm and retreated to one of the warehouse’s unlabelled rooms. 

 

Ava moved to follow her, but was intercepted by Camila. “Let her have a few minutes to cool off.” Camila instructed. “I have something for you in the office, anyhow.” 

“Yes ma’am.” Ava only nodded, thoughts still mostly on Beatrice. And how could they not be? After a display like that? It was violent and painful, but effectively efficient. Undoubtedly, this was the side of her that Beatrice was worried about Ava seeing. Was she right to be worried? Ava wasn’t sure.

 

“First, before I give you this…” Camila set a small black flight case on the desk next to her computer. “Are you okay?”

“I… Don’t know.” Ava laughed. “Ask me in a week when I’ve had time to sort through the pile of emotions I’ve been neglecting.”

“Fair enough.” There was concern in Camila’s eyes, but she knew Ava well enough to drop the subject for now. “This is for you.” 

 

Tentatively, Ava opened the latch on the flight case. Within it were two handguns, fitted within a perfectly cut piece of foam. Beside them, a few spare magazines and a silencer. 

“Mary said she’ll help teach you to shoot these,” explained Camila. She reached under the desk and produced a holster, setting it beside the case. She then rose, crossing the office and unlocking a cabinet. There was a nervous tension and speed in her movements that Ava couldn’t help but notice.

 

“These are also for you.” She returned to where Ava was sitting and placed two holstered knives onto the table. “And…” Trailing off, Camila pulled something out of what looked like a specialty printer. “Your new documents.” With a weak smile, Camila laid a fake driver’s license and passport on the table. Both had Ava’s picture, though that was where the accurate information ended. Beside both of those was a thick, black credit card. 

 

“And this isn’t to say you are joining us,” nervously, Camila kept speaking. Ava’s prolonged silence likely did nothing to settle the woman’s emotion. “I don’t want to make that assumption. But for the time being, you are a target and I… We’d like you to have the tools you need to keep yourself safe.”

 

Still silent, Ava lifted one of the guns from the case. It was weighty, which she liked, though she didn’t know enough about guns to evaluate it beyond that. The serial number was noticeably missing.

“Thank you, Cam.” Ava held the gun a moment longer, before setting it back down. She felt changed, she was changed - it was just the ‘how’ that felt a bit murky right now. “Thank you.” She repeated. “I don’t know what my next move will be, to be honest.”

 

“I can’t imagine Beatrice is taking this well.” Camila leaned against the desk and the worst of her visible tension seemed to lessen. 

“No, not particularly.” Ava couldn’t help but smile though. “She’ll come around. I’m very convincing.” 

“I’m sure you are… And while I’d love to dig into this more, we should probably get to work.”