New York, January 15th, 2016

The piers were deserted and there was a chill coming off of the East River. The lights of the Brooklyn Bridge not so far away hardly seemed picturesque at the moment. Frankie Mendoza had called for this little meeting, and he was late.

Big things were happening, according to the small time mobster. Anton Sala was convinced that the competition had tipped authorities off to his crew's presence near Rochester. The other group of scumbags—it was unsettling to know just how many low-lifes were trading human lives in New York alone—had been none too pleased to learn all about Sala's business dealings after a folder with the details had fallen into their hands.

Over the last several days both sides had taken swipes at one another. Several had been killed. She couldn't feel any remorse for them, knowing what they did. The pushing back and forth, fighting for control of the area... it wasn't quiet. It didn't take any more carefully suggested tips for the authorities to take notice. Arrests had been made as well, it was all over the news.

But Sala is still out there.

Aidan shook the thought out of her head as she thought she heard footsteps. Mendoza didn't walk anywhere, not in those shoes. She had already been standing in the shadows, now she ducked further into them, crouching down behind a dumpster and trying her best not to touch... anything, even with her gloves on.

Yes, it was most definitely footsteps. They stopped, but she couldn't tell exactly how far away. For the moment they weren't so close that she was worried about being discovered. A slow, back and forth rhythm set in as the mystery arrival began pacing. 

Time stretched out. She had no idea how long she crouched there in the dark, and she didn't dare check her phone for the time and risk the glow from the screen being seen. Her legs were starting to feel the slightest bit stiff when she thought she heard...

“There you fucking are. What took you so damn long?”

The chill from the water had nothing on the way her blood turned cold at the sound of that voice. She didn't have to look, she knew. She had known that seeing Blake Ross in New York was far from coincidental, but what did he have to do with all of this? That was the part she still hadn't put together.

“You think it was easy getting here? You think I can just up and drop my life at any moment to fix another one of your screw ups?”

Aidan had to cover her mouth, unsure whether it was to keep any sound down, or to keep herself from getting sick. Had she not just spoken to him a few days ago, she might not have remembered the voice. But... what was Constable Mason Bennett doing in New York? Why was he...

“You're lucky I bothered to tell you anything at all after that bitch called me. But I knew there was some other reason, she wasn't just writing a book after all these years. I already buried this for you once and here you are stirring it up again. All over some slag from seven years ago!”

“That bitch and her little friend got away from me once goddammit! I wasn't going to let it happen again after I saw her there. But that prick Sala got to her first. He's been pulling business out from under me for months. I was not going to let him take that from me too. He knew I wanted her and he did it to spite me.”

Her head was spinning. Blake Ross was Anton Sala's competition in human trafficking through New York? Whether or not he had been back in England, he sure was now, by the sound of it. Blake had been closing in on Elsie, either by design or by chance, and Sala had snatched her up just to make Ross jealous? Making Elsie pay to get herself free of the trouble had probably been an afterthought, or maybe even something for Sala to rub in Blake's face.

“She was one cunt! If you had just let her go in the first place, we wouldn't have been in that mess with those three bitches and you wouldn't be in this mess now!”

“And if you had taken care of the pain in the ass one like you were supposed to that night, nothing would be in my way right now, would it, little brother?”

One hand remained over her mouth and the other braced against the pavement as her stomach turned. Little brother. Pieces started to fall together. Blake had always been one step ahead because he had inside information. Mason had always been there a few moments too late because he was waiting for Blake to get away. No information was ever found because there was never an investigation.

That was why Bennett hadn't told her to go back to the police, why he had covered up what had happened by the river. That was why he had taken her to get coffee and offered to walk her home. He was supposed to have done something, probably kill her, but she ruined his plans when she had secretly messaged Belinda and Elsie to come pick her up.

“You need to leave his alone. Stop thinking about that blonde. Pack up your operation and move it somewhere else. Trying to take out Carlisle at this point is too risky. She's too high profile, or haven't you been paying attention? I can almost guarantee that she's figured out something that will trace back to you, if not both of us, after that stunt you pulled with the car. Let it go.”

There was a sharp inward breath, the sort that came before an angry explosion of shouted insults, but the argument never came. Before Blake could make his response, the sound of several engines stopped Ross and Bennett both. Doors opened, and the gunfire started instantly.

Aidan was sure she made some kind of sound, a squeak or shriek or maybe just a gasp, but if she did, she didn't hear it. The sound was drowned out by the hail of bullets. They hit the walls of the building, the pier, at least one even hit the dumpster beside her and left her ears ringing. It wasn't like being at the range for practice.

She didn't realize that she was moving until she had rounded the back corner of the building the dumpster was against, almost in a crawl. Whatever had told her body to move while her brain tried to stay put, she was glad for it. She almost took off, but something caught her eye and she changed directions.

Someone had left the back door to the building ajar. She ducked inside and pushed it as far closed as she could, finding she couldn't quite get it latched. Maybe that was why it was open. With just a sliver of space to look through, she kept her eyes fixed on what little she could see. 

It seemed like an eternity, but it could only have been a few seconds, before Blake and Mason had retreated down the pier, looking for something to hide behind. From the sounds of it, they were outnumbered. The knot in her throat tightened until she couldn't breathe as she saw one of them go down. It looked like Mason. The other tried to move to help his brother, and his body lurched as he was hit too. But he held on, and both bodies went tumbling over the side of the pier. Any splash that might have been made was inaudible.

It took Aidan several seconds, maybe even minutes, to realize that the gunfire had stopped over the ringing and pounding of her heart in her ears. She suddenly gasped for the breath she had been holding, feeling her chest ache. The moment of relief was cut short as new figures strode into her little field of vision, coming over to investigate the water below.

Just as Blake and Mason's conversation had been interrupted by the sound of vehicles arriving, so to was this interrupted by the sudden wail of sirens. She caught the briefest glimpse, but she recognized him from the picture... Anton Sala himself turned and lifted his gun as he started back toward his crew's cars. The gunfire started all over again.

This time she made a break for it when the confrontation was back between the two buildings. If she waited until it was over, until it was a crime scene, she would never get out. She ran until her legs hurt, until her lungs ached, and then ran some more. When she finally stopped, the bile in the back of her throat became too much and she hit her knees on the pavement.

She didn't really remember calling a ride home. She didn't remember paying or entering the condo. It wasn't until her reflection was staring back at her that she realized she was in her own bathroom. Then she couldn't get out of her clothes fast enough. The shower was cold, but she didn't reach up to change it after nearly collapsing into the marble basin.
 

 

- - - - -

New York, January 16th, 2016

The TV had been droning on and on. While Elsie was hanging off of every word, Aidan hadn't heard a bit of it. She was waiting. The only thing that brought her out of her own thoughts was when the blonde suddenly grabbed her arm.

“Did you hear that?”

“Hmm?”

“He's dead, Aidan! He got into some kind of shootout with police last night, and Anton is dead. He can't come after me now. I can forget about all of this.”

Before she could muster a reply, Aidan felt her phone vibrate. That message she had been anticipating. She shoved off of the couch and headed for the bedroom, opening the safe in the closet. The two bundles of bills were already prepared. She grabbed a very specific jacket from its hanger and found Elsie staring at her blankly when she turned to head back to the living area.

“What are you doing?”

Aidan didn't answer right away. Instead she put the jacket on Elsie and reached inside to the hidden pockets in the lining, putting one stack of bills on either side. With a step back to ensure that it wasn't obvious that anything was there, she finally looked up.

“Listen to me very closely, El. You are going to go down and get in the taxi that I called for you. You are not going to even think about this money until you get where the cab is taking you. When you get there, you tell him that I'm the one that sent you, but you don't tell him why. Just tell him that I'm helping you get a fresh start. He will help you get set up. ...Maybe ask him to introduce you to Connor.”

Elsie looked surprised, maybe a little wounded. Aidan hadn't expected her to really know what was happening, but she didn't want to argue with the woman. The decision of how to handle this part had been made more than a week ago.

“I don't understand, Aidan.”

“Yes, you do. I know you comprehend the instructions I just gave you. You can't stay here with me, because I'm not staying here much longer. You can't stay in New York at all. Go and start a life, a life free of the trouble that only you can manage to get yourself in to. Find a generic job doing something that makes you happy. Get a dog. Read trashy romance novels. Be normal.”

She grabbed the bag that she had already packed and put it in Elsie's hands.

“But A, it's over, right?”

“It is, and that's why you need to start over too.”

“I can't take your money...”

Aidan was already walking her out the front door of the condo, ignoring the protests.

“I don't need it right now, you do.”

Elsie continued to rail against it the entire elevator ride to the lobby, but soon they were standing at the curb and the cabbie was putting the bag in the trunk. Aidan handed him more than enough to get Elsie where she was being sent, because it was far, far out of the way. The blonde was pushed inside and buckled herself in. Before closing the door, Aidan hesitated for just a second.

“Elsie... don't get yourself into anymore trouble, ever. And if you do... call someone else.”

She closed the door before anything else could be said, and the cab was already pulling away from the curb. She wanted to feel some relief, because this was over. But she didn't.

Frankie Mendoza had almost certainly set her up last night. There was no other explanation for that. She wanted to kill him herself, she wanted to choke the life out of him with her bare hands. Instead she settled for the knowledge that he'd be under arrest by the end of the day in connection with the whole thing, because his name had mysteriously founds its way into the information in the folder found by Ross' people.

No, Frankie Mendoza was not why she didn't feel relief. She had watched Mason and Blake go over the side of the pier. She had seen them both take a bullet, but the news wasn't saying anything about any bodies being pulled out of the East River. It had been less than twenty-four hours, and logic told her to give it time. But in the back of her mind, she would always wonder.