"Adrenaline is my drug of choice," -Kate Angell
Tanner is talking about Belize on the phone, he got a day off and went to the beach.
I lay in my bed, eyes staring up at the ceiling, I can hear him, but my mind is far away.
"Did you take them off to make me happy Eleanora?"
I roll over onto my stomach, burying my face in the navy sheets. Tanner laughs on the other side of the line,
"Hilarious, right?"
I lift my head and stand, wandering off of the bed,
"Yeah. That's awesome. Where are you heading to next?"
The bathroom's tiles are cool under my bare feet,
"Argentina and then Egypt. We have a layover there for 3 days. We might get a few hours, Ele isn't that great?"
The mirror forms a blurry image of me. I watch my reflection with a hint of curiosity.
Now what?
"I wish I was there. We've always wanted to see the pyramids together."
He pauses and is quiet for a moment,
"I'm sorry, I won't go to them without you okay? One day we can come back here together."
That wasn't what I meant. I am not sure what I did mean. Guilt blooms inside of me,
"Go see a pyramid you dork, there are tens of them that we can see just us."
He chuckles softly,
"Can you imagine family vacations to Egypt? There are some really great kids things that are on their websites."
The woman in the mirror doesn't want a kid.
The woman in the mirror has a glint in her eye that wants power.
I look away, turning the light off as I head back towards the bed.
"That's adorable."
He practically giggles,
"How have things been for you?"
I can see golden eyes trained on me, the timber of his voice,
"Then let's find a middle ground."
I clear my throat,
"Things have been quiet here. Work. Court room. Home. Repeat."
He sighs,
"I'm sorry, I'll be home in a few weeks okay? You can choose where we go this time."
I can feel his gun against my jaw, the relaxed confidence he oozes as he speaks,
"We can arrange... certain actions you could do..."
I swallow dryly, fingers running over my throat,
"That sounds great Tan."
He sighs,
"You sound sleepy baby, I don't want to keep you up."
It isn't like I can sleep anyways.
My voice almost sounds relieved,
"Yeah it's late."
He almost coos,
"Goodnight honey, I love you to the moon and back again,"
I pull the comforter over me,
"Love you too."
My friend from Harvard is in town. Bella has always been the prettier one, the one that excelled at everything without having to work for it. She is all long legs. One of those girls that complains about not gaining weight when she also insists on dieting.
I've always admired her. Maybe a part of me always wanted to be her.
There are 2 types of people. Those who are desired. And those that aren't.
Wherever we went, she was wanted by men and women alike. It helps that she is a pansexual queen, that dominates in both the bedroom and the court.
While I went for criminal law, she focused in on family law. She deals with the rich old men that want to divorce and marry their hot new thing.
She twirls her celery juice, eyeing me,
"You doing okay Ele?"
I look up at her and smile,
"Tired that's all."
She rolls her eyes,
"Bitch, like you ever haven't been? I can remember with clarity those nights in the dorms where you wouldn't sleep for days on end."
I give her a lovingly annoyed look,
"Some of us had to work hard for those grades."
I can see the boost of her ego in her eyes, she laughs, it is still a high sound. It reminds me of all those days we spent that one summer exploring Paris on her Mother's credit card.
"I may have slept more, but you still would beat me by some stupid decimal point."
I smile slightly. I can't seem to fully complete it. Not when my life is burning down around me, lit on fire by golden eyes and a silver gun.
She studies me for a moment,
"Are you having guy problems or something?"
I almost snort, that's one way of putting it.
"No, Tanner is great."
She arches a brow,
"Yeah sure he is. How's your sex life?"
I know her well enough to not be shocked. It is my turn to roll my eyes,
"It's fine."
She flicks long blonde hair over her shoulder,
"He is away weeks at a time and when he comes back you get that good trustworthy vanilla shit."
I don't even blush, instead I sigh,
"I don't have time for more than that anyways."
She shakes her head, lips pursing,
"You never loved him. Not back then, not now."
I can't lie to her, she knows me too well. I shrug, eyes dipping to my now cold coffee,
"He is good to me. He loves me. And I do love him, not like that... But in my own way."
She wrinkles her nose,
"When he first came up to us at that party he asked me to dance, not you. He crushed on me for 6 months straight and got close to you to get close to me."
I raise my eyes and look at her. She isn't trying to hurt me. She is trying to tell me that I am wasting my time. Her green eyes are filled with love, I know my blue are filled with a deep sadness.
I speak clearly,
"He only wanted me after he knew he couldn't have you."
She shakes her head slightly,
"Ele- you are the coolest person I have ever met. I have seen you naked and I would totally fuck you. I have seen you throwing up on my shoes. I have seen you in the best lingerie you have. I have seen you win difficult cases with ease. If he doesn't look at you like you are a fucking goddess, then he isn't looking at all."
I wish she had never brought it up. I wish we never started talking about it. I run a hand through my dark locks,
"I'm not having boy problems."
My hand goes up to my collarbone. My fingertips are cold, but not as cold as the metal of the gun.
Stop. Thinking. About. It.
Bella found 2 strangers to take back to her hotel room for the night. It's her last night here, I wave her goodbye as she loops an arm over his shoulder and the petite brunettes waist. She blows me a kiss and a wink before disappearing upstairs.
I am now alone in the club.
I came directly from work, so my black pant suit seems ridiculously formal. Bella practically died when she saw me making my way towards her. Quickly dragging me to the bathroom and getting me to shed the button up blouse under the suit jacket, leaving me in my black laced bra and high waisted tailored suit pants.
I turn back to the bar and grab my purse as the bartender calls to me,
"This drink is for you."
I pause, eyes falling on the crystal glass filled with a deep honey toned liquid. I scan the bar in the shadowy darkness, the beat of the music follows my pulse as I breathe faster.
"Who ordered it for me?"
He just smiles and leaves to attend someone else.
I approach the drink as I would a bomb.
A stupid thought crosses my mind- what if it is poisoned?
The boredom and confusion of the past few days is replaced in a flash with the searing adrenaline.
Was he watching me?
I look around again, eyes searching for those amber eyes.
I pick up the drink and stare down at it. It matches his eyes.
Not that I notice.
I bring it to my lips and down it fast. It is smooth against my throat, cool in form but so hot that I can feel it trace my esophagus, my tongue, and my teeth.
I set the glass down.
It's bourbon. The bottle still sits on the opposite side of the counter, through the flashing lights I can make 1982 on the label.
I've never had a bourbon that has been over 4 years old.
And then I am laughing, I wander through the club towards the doors giggling.
In the darkness of my bedroom I still can't stop laughing.
Though I am no longer sure what is so funny anymore.
This time I pay attention and heed his warning. I don't continue to look into Andrew and Davis.
I go to work and then I go home.
In-between I stay up all night wondering what I am going to do.
In-between I wonder what I will choose.
In-between I ask if I fear death.
In-between I regret ever asking Kennecky about the evidence.
In-between I rub my collarbone, fingers tracing the outline of something that weighs on me, eating me up.
In-between I plan how I am going to run away.
In-between I dream about a gun against my throat.
I always end up at the same place- no matter what I choose I am royally fucked.
I reach for my apartment door and pause. It's unlocked. I straighten myself and pause for a moment. Am I prepared for this?
Is this even a choice?
I open the door and step inside, flicking the hall light on.
He is sprawled on my sofa, on the phone speaking in low, rolling tones. He has 2 men with him, neither of them I recognize.
I study the scene for a moment before I take off my red pumps that pair with my crimson pantsuit and place my purse on the shelf by the door.
I walk past them, feeling those golden eyes follow my movement. I get a glass of water and take a throat lozenge, hands trembling.
He stands from the couch, putting his phone into his pocket. He looks tense, angry. I'd rather not know just how much.
"Good evening Eleanora, how was your day?"
I set the water down and turn to face him,
"It certainly just got more interesting. Tell me, will you ever knock? Or is this going to become a regular thing? Your boys in my living room?"
He tips his head to the side, a chain glints around his neck.
"That depends on what you decided."
I can feel the adrenaline rise in my system, hot and sweet, rushing through my veins filling me with endorphins. I narrow my eyes slightly,
"Do I have a choice? Or is this one of those- choose right or die things?"
He grins, teeth flashing white,
"I suppose you won't know until you have made that choice."
I can remember the feeling of his gun on my throat. I watch him and he watches me. I should say no. I should have kept my fucking thoughts to myself.
I have no doubt that he could kill me without any hesitation. I bet he could make it look like a suicide. The overworked Harvard Graduate who has always struggled with anxiety broke under the pressure at her new big city job.
Fuck that.
"I am a very busy woman. I don't have the time for 2 jobs. I hardly have time for mine."
His expression is unreadable,
"That isn't my problem."
I can feel my rational thoughts fighting at my stupid, stupid self. Telling me that a man like him is the kind that your parents warn you about when you are little. The one that could really, really hurt you. I have to think of my family too. My mom, my sister, my dad, if I get involved with this then they are a part of it too, by default.
I can't hold his piercing gaze, looking down. My voice stays steady, but it takes everything I have for it to remain so,
"The FBI asked if you had gotten me."
The shadows play across the plains of his face,
"And did I?"
I can feel that itch build to a searing burn. I want to feel-.
I meet those amber eyes, glowing in the darkness, beckoning,
"I need more time."
He watches me for a long beat.
"That isn't going to work for me Eleanora."
I shake my head slightly,
"I can't. You know I can't."
He looks me over slowly and then nods to his men. They walk towards me, pulling out a syringe. I retreat into my kitchen,
"This is insane. I would be risking everything- my career- my family- my life,"
They are filling it up with something. I can feel my chest constrict. I am reaching into the drawer, pulling out my chef's knife and holding it before me, eyes wide.
My voice is no longer steady, it breaks with a fear and abandon,
"You take one step closer and I will fucking CUT YOU."
He walks up to stand next to his man that is holding the syringe. His eyes are hooded with blackness, I can't see them, I can't see what he thinks. His voice is even, practical, perhaps a bit amused,
"You know too much for me to let you live. You don't know enough to be a major threat, but if I leave you alone, Eleanora, I don't think you are going to stop looking until you are."
I stare up at him, my knuckles white on the handle. He steps into the light, his eyes are flecked with yellow,
"I don't trust you to be quiet. And you have proven that the threat to your life is not enough for you to stop."
I can sense the panic before it engulfs me. He runs a hand along his jaw, pondering me,
"That leaves me with you join me so one of my guys can keep an eye on you or I kill you and make it look like a suicide."
I can't seem to get air into my lungs. I am cornered, small, and powerless. He extends his hand to his man and takes the syringe. I've always hated needles.
He takes a leisurely step closer,
"The girl that got into Harvard when she was 16. Who got into a great firm in Chicago. Poor her, wasn't able to reach her full potential. Cracked under the pressure. Failed."
I laugh at that, it's a wet, hysterical sound that hurts my throat. My voice frays at the edges with madness,
"Killing me is the smarter move. I would be a fucking terrible employee."
There is almost a hint of a smirk on those lips,
"I think you have potential. If nothing else you've got fucking big ovaries."
I eye the needle in his hand, my breath a whisper against my parted lips,
"I've never liked needles."
His lips twitch,
"I can do it a different way if you want."
I look up at him.
How odd this all is.
I lower the knife slowly and place it on the counter behind me. My movements are slow. The hysteria and fear is morphing away from panic to strength.
Don't do it Ele. You stupid girl. Don't say it.
A ghost of a smile plays on his lips, as if he can see the shift in my eyes.
Fuck.
I knew my answer as soon as he had asked me.
A part of me wants to stop pretending that I don't enjoy the feeling of walking the edge.
The feeling of balancing on the tip of the knife.
I raise my chin. My voice is just a whisper,
"That won't be needed."
He nods, eyes coming alive. He hands the needle back to his man, never looking away from me.
"I knew you were smart."
I am still breathing hard. What am I doing? What the fuck am I doing?
"I have conditions."
He chuckles, it's a deep sound,
"Yeah? Don't make me take back my comment about you being smart so soon darling,"
I take a step closer.
"If I do this I want you to answer my questions. I also want the information on the other group soon so I can start working on taking them down."
Though his eyes stay humorous, his jaw tightens. He considers me, gaze heavy on my skin,
"Alright. After each case you complete I'll answer 5 questions. As for the information on the other gangs, no worries, that will be a priority for both of us."
He arches a brow,
"Any other demands?"
I tip my head to the side slightly,
"I need an insurance policy that you won't threaten anyone but me."
His eyes are confused. I clarify,
"I want you to keep my family and loved ones out of this."
I can't read his expression,
"Why would you need one? Do you plan on trying to take me down from the inside?"
The adrenaline licks at my skin,
"I don't know yet. You get to keep an eye on me and I get to keep an eye on you."
I wonder if that was too far. He doesn't seem necessarily perturbed. He glances at his man, eyes dancing,
"Your candor is... brutal Eleanora. I will consider your second demand, but I can't give you any promises."
I know better than to keep going.
He glances at his watch,
"You will meet with Kennecky tomorrow for lunch, he will give you all the information you need."
He begins to walk back towards the entry hall. I follow him, steps slow. I call out after him,
"What's your name?"
He pauses and glances back at me. I suck in a sharp breath and then raise my chin slightly,
"You know mine. Fair is fair right?"
He sticks his hands in his leather jacket, tongue darting over his lips as he smiles, it's a smile that the devil would wear.
"A name holds a lot of power."
I should stop pushing my luck, but instead I take a step forward,
"I like to begin new employment with a good work environment, filled with trust."
His grin widens,
"You can call me Ace."
I can see the twinkle in his eyes,
"That's not your name, though, is it?"
He arches a brow,
"Nah it isn't."
I match his arched brow,
"What is it?"
He shakes his head slightly, as if reading my mind,
"Don't push your luck darling."
A/N
Do you think she made a mistake? Or was that the right choice?