5: Beatrice

Callie sat at the bar and I walked through the restaurant toward the empty table in the back reserved for one David Wattiers. I rolled my eyes at the name, only David used his full name to make a reservation. My face was steeled as I approached the table behind the waiter. I let the relief show when I saw it was still empty. I was early, not by much but enough that I had hoped I would have a minute to compose myself before I saw him again.

It had been a year since I had last seen him and eleven months since I last spoke to him.

I had become adept at avoiding him in court. Callie and I had found new bars and restaurants so I wouldn't risk running into him during my downtime. It had been a full lifestyle rework.

This was going to be the death of me. He would be the death of me if the mob wasn't.

My fear of the mob was pretty intense, though I had managed to hide it well. There was no way I would show weakness. They would pounce on that weakness and exploit every last facet of my self-control until they had me under their thumb forever. 

Not that they didn't already have me under their thumb. When they decided someone was going to work for them, it was game over. There was no escaping your fate, except by death. Your death.

I still had hope that I could escape the mob somehow. One piece of evidence and maybe I could be free. Sure, they would know what I had done and they would exploit that, but if I was lucky, I wouldn't be indebted to them forever. I could just handle a few things here and there.

I slid onto the chair, smiling gratefully when a waiter came to take my order.

"Riesling, the largest glass possible," my voice was curt but the waiter was forgiving as he nodded and turned to get my drink. I would tip him well, he would forgive my shitty attitude when he saw the zeros I planned to add. I would bill this back to the Trivisonnos, anyway. It was a work meeting to get help destroying their stupid evidence, after all.

They could pay to get me sloshed.

"You didn't follow instructions very well," a deep voice whispered behind me. I jumped in fright, letting out a small gasp as I turned and looked into the deepest blue eyes I had ever seen. 

I was staring at the kind of eyes that haunted my dreams, waking and asleep. I remember the first time I had seen him, his eyes drew me in. His personality and his mind had kept me, but the initial draw was all in the eyes.

I straightened under his scrutiny and raised a brow at him. He was too good-looking for his own good. Nothing good came from men with chiseled jaws and arms that pushed against the fabric of a shirt in such a way that implied one small flex and the cloth would rip into shreds.

I knew I was letting myself appreciate the view too much. I wasn't openly gawking but his proximity was dangerous to my shredded heart. It was starting to beat again and that was never a good thing for a lawyer.

"I don't take well to commands," I said as I rolled my eyes and turned back to the table, moving to face him as he slid into the chair at the table.

My riesling came and David ordered. It wasn't his normal drink and a brief expression of confusion passed over my face as he asked for a gin on the rocks. David's eyes took everything in. He saw my expression and a small smirk played on his lips as he leaned back in his chair and studied me.

Neither of us said anything, we just sat stoically taking in the other. I wasn't about to be the first to fold in this game of wills.

The waiter brought David's drink and he sipped it thoughtfully as he watched me. I stared back, raising a brow at him, wondering when he would cave. I wasn't sure my voice would hold steady. I needed my heart to stop racing before I could sound intelligent. The bastard knew it too as he watched me with an amused expression. 

He finally folded.

"It's been a long time, Bea."

I watched him take another drink as I lifted my glass to my lips and drank a large gulp. My glass was almost empty and I gestured toward the waiter to get me another. 

"It has," I replied, not worrying about small talk.

I wasn't here to swap pleasantries.

The waiter returned and handed me a new glass. David slipped him a bill and nodded toward my glass.

"Drink fast. We have somewhere to be."

My brows lowered and I shook my head.

"I'm not leaving with you," I said in what I thought was a firm tone.

"Slow down on the wine, Bea. Nothing good comes from you and me together when you're drunk." His voice was laced with amusement and I glared at him as I took an extra-long pull from my glass.

His words triggered a memory though and I could feel my face heat as I recalled the first night we ended up together. He was thinking of the same memory judging by the heated look on his face.

"I asked to meet with you because I-"

He cut me off with a shake of his head and a firm tone.

"I know why you wanted to meet. Not here."

He stood and gestured for me to precede him out the door.

"I have to pay for my drinks," I protested but he had an answer for that too.

"I paid for them already. Come on, we have somewhere else to be. Tell Callie to go back to your apartment and wait for you there."

I turned to glare at him but he nodded toward the bar where Callie was sitting and rolled his eyes.

Callie was watching us with a worried expression as we walked toward the doors. I shook my head and nodded toward the door. She slid a bill across to the bartender and stood, grabbing her purse and walking toward the door parallel to us.

Navigating the tables was difficult with the amount of wine I guzzled in the last half hour.

"Meet her back at her apartment, we're just going to take a quick detour."

David's voice was low but firm as he spoke to Callie at the door before he ushered me toward a waiting cab. I hardly had a chance to voice a protest, but one look at his steely gaze stopped the words in my throat. He opened the back door and gestured for me to slide inside as I shrugged at Callie and murmured a quick assent.

"I'll see you back at my place. It will just be a few minutes."

Callie looked concerned but one glance at David and she nodded in agreement, hailing a cab behind us as David gave the driver an address and we zipped away into the city traffic.

It was long past rush hour, the sun had set and dusk had settled on the city. The shadows of the buildings threw the city into darkness, broken by the shining lights of the shops and buildings in our path. 

In the right circumstances, one could say it was romantic. I felt a zip of energy pass through David to me as he shifted on the seat next to me. I was acutely aware of everything he did, which is why I couldn't be around him for long. This was the worst kind of torture and I had no way of escaping it without a bruised heart.

I let out the breath I was holding and I turned to look at David.

He knew what I was going to say before I even opened my mouth because he interrupted me before I even got a chance to voice my concerns. My fears were still palpable, at least to me they were. The wine had dulled them a bit, but not so much that I didn't feel the weight of my situation pressing into me from all sides.

"The club on 35th and Knightly opened last night, we have a private table waiting for us at 8, we should get there just in time."

I knew David was stalling. He didn't want me to talk about the Trivisonnos in such a public place. I had gathered as much at the bar but I hadn't yet figured out why.

I nodded and turned, staring out the window. I would play his game, if only because I didn't know the rules yet, and until I did, it was dangerous to throw caution to the wind.

The cab dropped us off in front of the club. It was strangely quiet. It may be a Monday night and it might be early for a club to be open but I could tell the quiet was eerie.

No one seemed to notice the two of us as we ducked in the front door. David grabbed my hand and pulled me along the edge of the club toward a back hall. There were a few people dancing on the dance floor, and a few others scattered around tables nursing drinks but it was far too early for the club crowd to be out in full force. Even I knew that and I was not a frequenter of clubs.

The feel of David's hand on mine sent shivers through my body and I worked hard to quell the feelings that rushed through me. It was a familiar grip, and yet completely foreign as his hand enveloped mine.

David glanced back at me with a smirk. The bastard. He knew what he was doing to me. I narrowed my eyes in response. That just made him laugh out loud which was grating on my nerves and I tried to snatch my hand back. He just gripped it tighter and pulled me along toward the back of the club.

We walked through the dark club, lights flashing around the room in sync with the music playing. A DJ was playing on an elevated stage toward the front of the club, near what looked to be a dance floor. There were tables and booths scattered along the edge of the club, surrounding the dance floor. 

Bodies swayed to the music, a few were dancing elaborately while the rest of the crowd tried to avoid their flailing limbs. I could see a security guard walking toward the flamboyant dancers, asking them to leave and I rolled my eyes in response. Of course, the club would kick out anyone that didn't fit their idea of sophistication.

David pulled me into a back hall. It was dark, the lighting even lower than in the club.

"Where are we going?" 

My voice was low but I knew David could hear me. He was always attuned to my voice, and he always responded. Even when I didn't want to hear the response.

"Almost there."

He gave a non-answer and I rolled my eyes behind his back as I let him lead me by the hand toward a room near the back. He navigated down a second hall and opened a door near the back, flicking on a light and holding the door open for me to enter.

I walked into the room and froze.

"You bastard."

My words were ice and my gaze steely as I turned to glare at David. He glared right back. Fury was coursing through my veins, I could hardly contain my temper at the best of times around him, but right now? Right now I wanted to throw myself at him, with my claws drawn, and my teeth bared as I ripped his head off his worthless body and threw him into the Potomac.

"Sit down, Bea."

David's voice was firm. He must have known I wouldn't be happy with this meeting. How could he not know? After everything that happened between us. How could he think this was a good idea?

I looked back into the room. There were three other people sitting around a table. Three people I never wanted to see again in my entire life. If I died and came back, I would carry my hatred for them with me to the next life. David was part of that equation, but I needed him right now. I would return to my hatred after I finished the job for the Trivisonnos.

"Hi, Bea."

A soft voice spoke. The owner had light brown hair, falling delicately around her shoulders in a trim, modern cut. The new look suited her but I scowled at her in distaste. Her rosy lips were pursed in uncertainty and her eyes looked wary as I glared at her. 

"Rachel."

I said her name with as much politesse as I could muster, which wasn't much. I walked slowly into the room and sat as far away as I possibly could from the other three occupants.

"Michael. Devon."

I murmured a quick greeting to the other two sitting at the table. Devon was sitting in front of a laptop and Michael was leaning back in his chair, watching the room with amusement. He was the only one that seemed to be enjoying himself.

"A drink, perhaps, love?" Michael asked as he stood quickly and grabbed one of the five glasses sitting in the middle of the table. I just noticed they were there, I had been too focused on the occupants. 

The room was set up as an office meeting room, a large table in the middle of the room was surrounded by rolling chairs with lush, leatherbacks. The walls were a deep shade of burgundy with pictures hanging at evenly spaced intervals along the back wall. A hutch sat on the far wall, and on it sat a variety of crystal decanters filled with liquor and a mat of glasses.

Michael rose from the table and walked toward me, his hand offering a wine glass. It was filled with a clear, slightly blue-tinted wine. He would know what my favorite drink was. He would know what I liked. He would know everything about me because Michael never forgot.

Neither did David for that matter.

I took the glass and sipped gratefully. I may have had a couple of glasses already but it was not enough. With David, it had been barely enough. With Rachel, Michael, and Devon, there was no amount of alcohol that could calm my racing heart.

"Care to sit closer?" Michael asked me as he grinned unrepentantly down at me.

"No," I replied with a smirk of my own. Michael was hard to stay mad at for long. He knew what his golden boy looks did to those around him and he used it to his advantage. 

His blond hair shone in the light, draping artfully over his forehead. He was built to be a soccer player, or maybe a runner. He had long, lithe limbs with enough muscle to look dangerous. I knew he had a variety of tattoos along his left arm but his right would be bare. Unless he had added some in the last year, which was a definite possibility.

The soft voice spoke again, willing me to listen.

"I know you're angry at me, but we are here to help."

Rachel's voice was a shock to my system. I came back to reality with the cold splash of her voice in my veins.

"I didn't ask for your help."

"No, you asked for mine. They come as part of the package. You should have remembered that."

David's voice spoke authoritatively in the room. He was the head of their little group, after all. He would be in charge.

"I find I'm no longer in need of your help," I spoke the words defiantly despite them not being even remotely true. I knew I needed them. They knew I needed them. But, my pride had not yet caught up to the danger I was in and I wanted to lash out in anger at the situation.

I rose from my seat and moved toward the door.

"Sit down, Bea."

The final voice in the room spoke. It was the kind voice of Devon. He was looking at me with understanding and no small measure of sympathy. 

I could handle the angry looks from David. I could handle the uncertain looks from Rachel. I could even handle the amused looks from Michael. But, the understanding of Devon? That would be my undoing. 

I felt my chest fill with emotion even as I willed it down. A look of longing flickered across Devon’s face for a brief moment and I was hit with the same feeling, quickly followed by a deep loneliness as I realized that I missed him. I missed them all. 

"It's alright, we're here to help," Devon's voice was soothing and I stood, frozen in my spot, staring into his eyes, unblinking. My eyes filled with unwelcome tears and I closed them against the feeling, willing them away. I wouldn't allow weakness in this room, and not with these people. 

It took a moment but I compartmentalized my emotion and opened my eyes once more, my gaze void of emotion as I looked back at Devon. 

He looked sad, almost heartbroken as he saw me sit back down in the chair.

"Alright."

I spoke with a loud, firm voice. I would stay in charge of this situation, even if it meant I ended up with a bloated face and half-decomposed body by the time I'm found. I would go out the way I wanted. I would stand tall and face the bastards, those in the room and beyond.

Michael nodded and grabbed his own drink, tossing back the shot as he slammed the glass back on the table.

"Let's get started, then."

A firm knock sounded at the door and five heads turned to look at the opening door where a bodyguard stood, a small woman in his arms. I stared at the woman in astonishment. She had dark hair, pinned into a low bun and her eyes were wide with fear and no small measure of determination as she squirmed against his grip on her arm.

“Let me go,” she huffed in a low growl as she pulled her arm away from the guard’s grasp.

"I found her lurking."

"Fuck! Callie!" I called out as I rose and grabbed her arm, pulling her away from the guard into my arms. "What are you doing here?"