New York, January 6th, 2016

Anton Sala. Low-level human trafficker from the Czech Republic and high-level scumbag. Attractive by some standards, apparently charming, and made of teflon when it came to anyone trying to pin charges to him. The perfect trap for someone naive like Elsie, really. Just like Blake had been. But where Blake had been a psychopath, Anton was a different beast.

Aidan flipped the folder shut once more as she heard Elsie trying to creep up behind her. She hadn't let the blonde woman catch even a glimpse of what information was in her possession. At night she locked it up in the safe in the bedroom. Elsie might have known it was bad, but she would never have any idea how bad.

It was less that Aidan was trying to shield the other woman from the truth than it was her covering her own ass. The less that Elsie knew, the fewer pieces of the on-going puzzle she could ever put together and accidentally let slip out the next time some stranger smiled at her in a bar. Aidan still didn't know what she was going to do, she just knew... it was going to get worse before it got better.

Lithe fingers crept to either side of her neck and squeezed down on her traps and began to knead, making Aidan give a soft groan. Her eyes and head rolled back together and she tried to force herself to relax under the touch. She had forgotten how good Elsie was at massaging, too. Her hands may have been small, but they were strong.

“...How long has it been since you actually slept, Aidan? Like slept slept, not dozed off or napped.”

“Honestly? Since the night you texted me.”

She could practically hear the frown forming behind her.

“It's my fault, I'm—”

Elsie caught herself before apologizing.

“It's my fault.”

Aidan couldn't bring herself to deny it. It was Elsie's fault. The whole mess was Elsie's fault. She had brought some heavy duty shit and dropped it in Aidan's lap because she didn't know what to do. She would never have been able to get out of it on her own, at least she was smart enough to know that. 

Saying, “Lord only knows what would have happened” was a crock of shit, because Aidan knew exactly what would have happened. No matter how much Elsie pissed her off. No matter how much the blind stumbling through life that the woman exhibited on a daily basis made Aidan hate her... she would never have been able to let herself let that happen. But why couldn't she have known a fed or something? Someone more equipped to handle this than Aidan was.

Truthfully, other than the occasional sniping stemming from Aidan's own exhaustion and anger, Elsie was enduring everything without complaint. She hadn't been able to leave the condo since she arrived. She had nothing of her own there, Aidan had even destroyed her phone, and had to wear borrowed clothes. She had taken it upon herself to cook and clean, done the dishes and the laundry. If it weren't for the fact that she was in a mess tangled around people who killed other people routinely, it would almost have been pleasant.

“What can I do, Aidan? There's got to be something I can do.”

“There's nothing you can do, El. I don't even know what I am going to do here, and I'm more capable than you are. I don't mean that to be offensive, it's just the truth.”

“No, it is, I know that.”

Aidan caught an errant tear that tried to run down the side of her nose so that Elsie wouldn't see it. There was someone she wanted to call about it all. She had even picked up the phone a few times. But she couldn't do it. With a sigh she stood up, regretting that she had to end the little backrub.

“Let's go out. Let's get you some clothes and some books or something so you've got something to do. We'll grab some lunch while we're at it and pretend our lives aren't going to shit right now. How does that sound?”

It was a big risk, she was aware of that. While the odds of someone passing them that had anything to do with the situation and recognizing Elsie were astronomical in a city the size of New York... odds were never in Aidan's favor. Still, they had to do something. Being a prisoner was not something Aidan was willing to do.

 

 

- - - - -

England 2008

“Dammit B, come on, fucking hit me.”

Belinda gave her a dirty look as they circled each other on the mat. Fists tapped, hair in ponytails, and tank tops soaked in sweat, they were by far the most aggressive sparring partners in the gym that morning. She had felt eyes on them more than once.

“I'm trying you little shit. You do realize I never take it easy on you, right? You are fucking faster than you realize.”

On any other day the compliment might have made her ego swell a little bit, but today she wasn't sure if she actually believed the denial from her partner. It always felt like Belinda went easy on her. She had seen the big woman throw a punch many times, and when she was on the receiving end it didn't seem like it hurt as much as it should.

Her skeptical distraction gave Belinda an opening and the blonde's fist connected with the side of her head. It knocked Aidan on her ass, but she rolled through and to a crouch before popping back to her feet, fists raised in a better guard.

“Like that. I just hit you full force and you stood right back up. And when that fucknozzle hit you, you got back up. Do you realize that would knock most people out? You are a special breed of crazy that just doesn't feel pain.”

Aidan rolled her neck until it popped, eyeing Belinda doubtfully. She still suspected that the big bitch was trying to boost her confidence.

“It's not that I don't feel it... I just don't mind it. Kind of makes me feel... high? Alive? I don't know.”

“You're kind of a freak. That's why I like you as my partner. If I didn't love dick so much I'd marry you.”

“God, tell me about it. You'd make a great wife if you just had a cock.”

“Please, we both know you'd be the wife.”

Aidan snickered as she felt even more gazes turn their way. The two of them had the exchange regularly, and in public places just to get reactions. They fed each other's worst habits in the best ways. They had earned their own locker room because pretty much everyone else didn't want to hear their filthy one-upping game when they got rolling.

“Thanks for dragging me out today, Linnie. I needed it.”

“I know you did. You've been turning into a ghoul since the coffee shop. I haven't even seen the guy lately, maybe he found someone else to stalk. Besides, with as good as you've gotten with your scary little knife hobby, I don't think you'd have any trouble at this point.”

“I don't know, B. He knew a lot of stuff he shouldn't have known. He knew that I had changed my name, where I came from, that the police didn't believe us... Fuck they still didn't even after I went down and filed another report.”

“It's called being scared, A. I know it's not something you're used to or that you like feeling. It is, however, entirely normal. That being said, none of this shit is our fault and it's time that we go back to living.”

“You were the one that talked all this caution shit to begin with.”

“I know. I figured it would blow over in a few days and we wouldn't have to worry about it. It didn't, but it seems like it has now. And if it hasn't, then we handle it ourselves. I'm not waiting around to get stabbed just so I have some fucking proof that someone is out there.”

“Good. When we're done here, we're going shopping. We're going to find something hot to wear, we're going to find killer heels for your giant fucking feet, and we're going out tomorrow night and taking Elsie with us. I'm tired of her moping.”

Belinda made a face and threw one of those “giant fucking feet” right at Aidan's ribs, but the brunette caught her thickly muscled leg and drove her fist right into the back, snickering as it caused a charlie horse and  the big blonde went down like a sack of bricks, cursing Aidan, her family name, and her entire legacy until the end of time.