Doctors and Bullet Casings

by Accidental_Ducky

Summary:

“Someone Chloroformed my ass.”

“Well, if it makes you feel any better, I was Chloroformed and then this lady shot me up with Naloxone because she thought I’d overdosed on Heroin. I can feel things now, Seph! I don’t like it!” Seph’s brows furrow at the information dump, fingers twitching as she tried to map everything out. It couldn’t have been that long since she was drugged considering Chloroform only lasted a few minutes at the most, but the Naloxone could be a problem.

"I was knocked out for ten minutes and everything's gone to shit."

"And it's not even my fault this time."

Chapter 1: Right on Time

 

Let it not be said that Seph wasn’t good at her job despite the deep loathing she harbored against anything that wasn’t her tools or cute animals. Why else would she force herself to stay awake well past midnight just to call a phone number she knew would end in a voicemail? She may be well on her way to becoming a hermit, but, dammit, she knew what she was doing.

It was also why she was grumpy when there came a knock on the door to her little apartment. With a deep scowl in place, she forces herself to stand and answer the door, using all of her considerable will power to keep from punching the man on the other side. Not, she added in her mind, that he would care one way or the other. A rare case, her patient couldn’t even feel the softness of a pillow, let alone four knuckle bones connecting with his already bruised cheek.

The patient looks her over as she does the same to him, taking in the puffy left eye and the gaping hole in the left palm. Injuries would be simple to patch up, forcing him to sit down for an examination would take some bargaining, but she’d get paid no matter what. The patient seems a bit miffed, though his tone is easy-going as he breaks the silence.

“Do you ever wear something besides tank tops?” With a frown, she looks down at the white tank top and pink shorts she had on, finding nothing wrong with them considering the late hour.

“The only people I see are criminals and delivery boys, Grady,” she reminds him as she looks back up, stepping to the side so that he could come inside. “Why shouldn’t I be comfortable at all times?” Grady steps inside, running bloody fingers through his dark hair and mussing the locks. Seph kicks the door shut and makes her way into the kitchen, grabbing her kit down from one of the cabinets where most people would probably store plates.

“Mind if I use your bathroom? I drove straight here from Pearl’s.”

“Go on, but don’t touch anything if you don’t need to.” She didn’t like having people running loose in her apartment, it made her itch. Grady holds up a hand and gives a smile, one that would probably have women swooning as long as they had no clue about what he did for a living or his usual personality. “And don’t leave the toilet seat up!”

“Yes, mum,” he calls mockingly from down the hall. Seph grumbles under her breath, working on sterilizing a needle while waiting on him to return. He would linger as long as possible, if for no other reason than to get on her nerves. Grady seemed to like seeing her riled up, though she doubted he’d ever admit to it. No, that would mean that the unfeeling monster actually had a hobby that wasn’t dismantling rival crime organizations or enduring hours of torture while singing things that were better left to cartoons.

“Hurry up or I’ll make you do some blood work!” That got the reaction she wanted, the toilet flushing a second later followed by the scuff of his boots against her wood floors. She would have to clean tomorrow, erase the black marks he was undoubtedly going to leave behind. Just something else to add to the growing list of reasons why I should just dope him up with Morphine and leave him somewhere deserted.  

“Do you realize you’ve got a man bleeding out in your bathtub?” He was pointing with his thumb over his shoulder as he came into the kitchen, not looking anything more than perplexed.

“He was talkin’ to police officers, so I got a text saying to take care of him. Lovely man, our boss.” Grady shrugs a shoulder, removing his shirt and collapsing in one of two kitchen chairs at the table.

“You didn’t get one of those messages on me, did you?”

“If I had, you’d know it by now. I’m not a very subtle woman when it comes to murder.”

“And yet you have a needle ready.”

“Just in case.” She pulls on a pair of latex gloves, hating the feel of them against her skin but hating the feel of warm blood even more. And, with Grady, there was always plenty of blood to worry about. One of the more severe cases of CIPA, he could never guarantee the true extent of his injuries. Once, he’d showed up complaining about a possible elbow fracture and had ended up sleeping on her couch for a month because of three broken ribs. “What happened to your hand?”

“One of the guys liked the idea of nailing me.” He holds up his left hand, a dime-sized hole going straight through the palm and one of the veins. “He succeeded, too. Speaking of which, great job with that phone call. You were right on time, Seph.”

“I always am.” She made it a point to be, unable to stand the thought of a schedule being disrupted. “Is all of this your blood this time?”

“No, I stabbed Pearl with the nail while it was still in my hand. Worked wonders on getting the other three suitably terrified.” Seph allows her head to drop for a moment, wondering when Grady would make her job easier. Just once I’d like him to show up with a bottle of vodka and say that he’s completely fine.

“You’ll need to get tested once I’m done here.”

“But, Seph—”

“You can do it for free at one of those clinics downtown or you can pay me three hundred bucks to get it done right.”

“That’s a bit expensive.”

“So’s my time.” She pulls on his wrist until he stands and walks with her over to the sink, staying there obediently as she fetches a bottle of whisky from the freezer. “Alright, hold your hand over the sink.” He does as asked, watching with vague interest as she quickly washed the dried blood off with some cold water and then dumped nearly half the bottle of booze over the open wound.

“That would hurt someone else, wouldn’t it?”

“They’d be a writhing mess on the floor,” Seph confirms with a nod. “Either way, it’s satisfying for me.”

“I’m starting to see why you were turned away from medical school.” She shrugs, examining the wound again now that it was clearer. “How’s it looking?” She gives an uncommitted grunt in answer, pulling him back over to the table and sitting down in the free chair while he did the same. “How long will it take this time?”

“For me to finish the examination or for you to be released?”

“Both.”

“Twenty minutes for the first and no less than two months for the second.” He lets out a whining groan, throwing his head back dramatically right as she was about to poke the needle through his skin. “Easy! You make me fuck this up and I’ll make sure you’re down for a year!”

“You’re no fun.”

“I’m a doctor, I’m not paid to be fun.” He grins, fingers not even twitching as she started to stitch the wound shut, finishing it up quickly enough before pressing a Steri-Strip on either side of the wound. “When you take a shower, put on one of those clear bandages I’ve got in the cabinet over your sink until the strips come off on their own.”

“I know, I know. I have done this before.”

“Yes, but you’re also impatient, so there’s a need to remind you of what I’ll do if you don’t follow orders.” She grabs the right hand, prodding at the thumb. “That’s throw out your hair care products, by the way. Don’t fuck with me.”

“Again, I know this already.” He hadn’t believed her when she first started working in California seven years ago, but he knew how petty she could be now. “I had to dislocate it to get out of handcuffs,” he says at her inquiring look. She makes a noise, popping it back into place before examining the knuckles. Nothing too bad there, just badly bruised. She continues through the list of things that needed to be examined, even checking his temperature before she was satisfied.

“Alright, I’ll just take some blood and then you can do whatever it is you do after murdering a crime boss.”

“I usually like to watch reruns.”

“Somehow, that doesn’t surprise me.” She ties a band around his arm before grabbing a needle from her kit, carefully inserting it into the crook of Grady’s arm until she felt the slight resistance of entering the vein and a small bit of blood appearing. Even with her patient watching like a hawk, she didn’t get the slightest bit nervous and inserted one of two vials to catch the blood. “I’ll have these dropped off tomorrow and you can expect results by Wednesday at the latest.”

“Since you insist on being a vampire tonight, can I at least crash on your couch?”

“If you feel you must.” She pulls the tourniquet off and slides in the second vial, waiting for it to fill up before removing the needle. “Tape some gauze over that while I throw this out.” She puts the used needle in a plastic container that hung above her trash can, careful not to prick herself.

“I’ll get the blankets out of the closet.” Having Grady stay at her house for the night wasn’t a new thing, but it still felt weird that he knew where she kept spare blankets when most of the people in her life didn’t even know her real name. Seph, puts the vials in her refrigerator and grabs the booze again, carrying it with her back into the living room. “Hey, where’d you hide my pillow?”

“Under the mermaid blanket!” He comes out of the hall a moment later with his arms full, quickly fixing his makeshift bed before the two of them fell onto the couch and he grabbed up the remote. “So, did you annoy your captors with music again,” she asks after a while, snuggled into his side as he flipped through the channels.

“Hello, my baby,” he sings, off-key and obnoxious,” hello, my honey. Hello, my ragtime gal!”

“Why do you always go with show tunes when you’re being tortured? Why not something a little more modern?”

“And what would you sing while your bones are being systematically crushed?” Seph’s eyes never leave the TV screen, chewing on her bottom lip until a familiar tune begins to play as doctors pass an X-ray around.

“The Scrubs theme song,” she states, nodding.

“I’ll keep that in mind if I ever have to rescue you, Seph.”

Notes:

Outfits

Chapter 2: The Appointment

Summary:

Seph realizes she needs a new DVD player and new friends, and Grady gets the okay to go back to dismantling rival gangs.

It took Seph a moment to remember where she was when her eyes flickered open that morning, staring up at the underside of her coffee table before turning her head to the side and spotting a limp arm hanging from her couch. From what she could see, the appendage had a smooth tan with a smattering of dark hair along the forearm and a patch of white gauze taking up the back of the hand, long fingers curling inward just before they reached the floor.

She knew the arm well, could name the reason for every scar that marred the otherwise perfect flesh; a thin line of white around the wrist where wire had cut into it, a puckered pink scar near the elbow from him forcibly opening a window, and now the hole through his hand from a torturer’s attempt at being funny. A JC, indeed, she muses silently, lips quirking up into a smile. Too bad ol’ JC didn’t have me around to patch him up.

She crawls out from under the table and shuffles to her bedroom, leaving Grady snoring on the couch. He’s always been a snorer, she suspected his tonsils and adenoids needed to be removed, but God forbid she suggest that he be put under for a surgery that would leave him eating ice pops for a week.

Seph’s room, much like the rest of her house, looked as though a tornado had blown through, leaving clothes and knickknacks scattered over any horizontal surface. She navigates her way inside expertly, pausing only long enough to pick up the day’s outfit before going across the hall into the bathroom.

She kicks the door shut behind her and deposits the fresh clothes on the counter, giving her reflection a quick once over. It’s her hair that captures her attention, a complete rat’s nest that would be a real bitch to brush even after drowning it in conditioner. It wasn’t fair, really, that her hair was a total dick while Grady’s always seemed to be perfectly styled even while rumpled from sleep.

From the front of the apartment, she could hear a loud crash and then a string of curses, grinning as she steps into the shower. At least her morning was considerably brighter now.

“Seph,” Grady shouts from the living room,” how do I make your DVD player open?”

“Sweet talk it,” she yells back over the sound of her shower. The water was warm as it cascaded down her back, the jet of it working out one of the knots in her shoulder. Note to self, stop sleeping in the floor when you have a perfectly good bed. She wasn’t entirely sure how she’d managed to get under the coffee table last night, all she could remember was doing shots of tequila every time JD had a fantasy and Cox started to rant. In hindsight, that probably hadn’t been her best idea.

“It’s not working!”

“Then hit it with a hammer!” The resounding crash let her know he’d taken her advice, though she’d probably have to invest in a new DVD player. It sucked, to put it lightly, she’d had the DVD player in the living room for going on eighteen years now and she loved it in spite of its behavioral problems. “Not too hard you twit! That thing cost me twenty bucks on eBay!”

“Relax, it’s opening now!” Seph rolls her eyes, making quick work of washing before stepping out into the chilled air of her apartment. She dries and dresses in a plain blue tank top and a pair of black shorts, pulling her Cardy boots back on. “Hey, where’s the copy of- Never mind, I found it!”

A sci-fi show started up after that, yet another thing that made Seph wish she’d just shoved Grady out of her apartment last night after she stitched his hand. It was a joke he always loved to bring out when she thought he’d forgotten, reminding her of the nickname her old love of the show had given her when she first moved to California. If she didn’t try to abide by a strict no murdering without an order rule, then she’d probably hit her boss repeatedly with the hammer she kept in the living room.

Grady’s gone by the time she gets her hair brushed and shuffles into the kitchen, only a black scuff on her floor to suggest he’d ever been there. Well, that scuff and Star Trek playing on the TV. She was going to snap one of these days and the first person she took out would probably be Grady.

With a sigh, she pulls the orange juice out of the fridge and makes her way back into the living room to turn the show off. Sure enough, the top of her DVD player had a good-sized dent in it, but it wouldn’t need to be dealt with yet. She flips her stereo on and collapses on the couch, sipping on her juice and ignoring the world around her.

Yeah, sometimes having a job that didn’t make you leave your house was great.

~::TWO MONTHS LATER::~

When Grady showed up for his check-up, Seph decided he must be a world-class cock-blocker because there was no other way to describe his poor timing. Head falling back with a sigh of something that was most definitely not pleasure, she wonders if she could put off the appointment until an hour or so later.

“Do you need to get that,” her partner asks, sitting back on her heels and looking towards the front door. Well, the direction of it anyway. Seph thinks for a moment before another pounding is heard, this one strong enough to make the chain rattle in its slot. “Maybe whoever it is will go away.” The woman looked hopeful as she slid a hand up Seph’s thigh, but the expression falls away when her hand is pushed to the side.

“Stay in here, I’ll be right back.”

“Are you ashamed to be seen with me?”

“No, but I don’t figure you want a complete stranger to see your tits either since your shirt’s in the living room. I’ll be back in about ten minutes.” Seph leaves the woman behind, trying to remember her name and drawing a blank already. She was pretty, an aspiration for modeling and a minimum wage job to keep her humble. Seph shakes her head and quickly undoes the lock before opening the door, looking up at Grady expectantly.

“You look nice,” he says, the sarcasm fully noted. “Hope I’m not interrupting a hot date.”

“Totally,” Seph nods. “I told her to hide out in the bedroom while I stitch up a criminal.” There was a faint yell from down the hall, then a thump like a pillow had just collided with the closed door. Grady looks past her in the direction of her bedroom before meeting her gaze again, brows raised ever so slightly. “We met at Subway.”

“Are you serious?”

“Yeah, but I’m gonna have to stop going there. Her fingers start cramping up at the worst possible moment and I’m about to kick her out.”

“Can’t say I blame you there.” She steps aside and lets him in, watching as he goes straight to the bedroom and pokes his head inside for a moment. He says something, too low for Seph to hear, and then grins as he pulls the door shut again and makes his way to the chair in the kitchen. “She’s lovely.”

“Makes a horrible ham and cheese sub, though.”

“Well, it is six-thirty in the morning. I don’t think Gordon Ramsay could make a good sub this early either.” She makes a non-committal sound in response and grabs up her kit, going through the familiar motions of checking for broken bones or possible fractures. It was always the same each time he showed up and it usually ended one of two ways—more time off with him throwing a fit or him being allowed back in the field with a warning not to go too fast.

“Any seizures while you were off?”

“Just one and it was pretty mild. I think my meds need to be adjusted again.” Seph nods and makes a note of it before checking his temperature and blood pressure. “So, what made you decide to venture out of your apartment this morning? I thought you were a hermit.”

“I was hungry and Subway’s right down the street.” She wasn’t a full hermit, she just didn’t like going outside and dealing with more people than necessary. Hell, it was rare when she had more than one guest in her house at a time except on days where missions went wrong and her place looked like the waiting room to an ER. “Were all your readings normal this morning?”

“Yup.”

“And you don’t have any bruising in places below the waist?”

“Nope.” She makes a few more notes that would be added to his ever-growing file later on that day. She’ll have to call one of her connections later to get a script filled for Stuart Valerious—why Grady was so fond of that alias, she’ll probably never know—and then she’d probably tweak his blood pressure meds to keep everything in balance. “Am I free to go take down crime organizations, Seph?”

“Until you fuck up again, yeah.”

Chapter 3: Road Trip

Summary:

Grady becomes a walking 'Don't Do Drugs' PSA and Seph decides that being a hermit is the safest option.

Seph was lounging on her couch the next time someone knocked on her front door, a bowl of popcorn settled on her stomach and a slasher film playing on the TV. She was content to ignore the visitor, but then she received a text that had her seriously considering the tenuous friendship she had with a certain pain in the ass. It was a simple text, eight words in all with a little frowny face emoji to really pull it together—open the door or I kick it down.

“Break my door and I’ll break your ankles, Grady!”

“Move your ass already!” Grumbling under her breath, she rolls onto her feet and strides across the room to the door, opening it a little rougher than it probably deserved. After all, it’s not the door’s fault that Grady had all the patience of a toddler. He barges inside without even bothering to ask, stealing her popcorn on the way.

“What the fuck, dude?”

“Get dressed, Seph, you and I are goin’ on a little adventure.”

“Fine, but I get to make the road trip playlist.”

“Whatever, just hurry up.” She moves down the hall to her bedroom, stripping along the way so that all she had to do once in her room was pull on real clothes. Seph yanks a black tank top over her head and wiggles into a pair of worn jeans before sliding her feet into a pair of boots. She didn’t bother trying to brush her hair, just putting it in a messy braid as she shuffled into the kitchen to grab her kit.

“Any particular reason I’m coming with you this time around?”

“FBI are onto us. Apparently they’ve been following us around since I killed Pearl.” She comes back into the living room, taking a couple of photos that Grady was holding up. The first was of Seph heading out of her building in her street clothes and the other was of Grady walking down some street or another.

“How come your hair still looks amazing in this picture? I look like I just crawled out of bed.”

“Because, unlike you, I actually care about my appearance.” She makes a disgruntled sound, tossing the pictures onto the coffee table. “You ready?”

“Almost.” She shrugs into a plum-colored blazer (the only coat she actually owned), and grabbed her case of CDs off the entertainment center before turning to face Grady again, arms held out.

“You could always take advantage of some makeup.”

“Too much effort and it comes off during sex anyway.” He shrugs and gets to his feet, dropping the empty popcorn bowl on the table next to the pictures and turning off the TV. Goodbye killer dolls and hello killer CIPA patient. I think I’d prefer the doll.

They don’t say anything until they’re in one of the discreet cars Ezekiel kept stored in a warehouse, Seph flipping through her CDs until she finds one she’d made three years ago.  “Seriously,” Grady complains,” this one again? It’s not even that great of a song.”

“The more you complain, the louder it goes.” To prove her point she turns up the volume and sings along at the tops of her lungs. “It’s really good to hear your voice sayin’ my name, it sounds so sweet!” Grady turns the volume off with a scowl, slapping her hand away when she went to turn it back up again. “Where are we goin’?”

“We’ve got four men on our side that have decided to snitch, so we get to kill them. And by we, I mean that I get to kill them and you get to check their pulse to make sure they’re actually dead so that Ezekiel doesn’t fret. First target is Marky.”

“Good, I hated that douchebag.”

“He is a bit obnoxious.”

“A bit?”

“Alright, a lot obnoxious. It wouldn’t be so bad if he didn’t talk like a twelve year old gamer. At least this gets you out of Cali for a while.”

“New Jersey isn’t exactly a step up.”

Four hours and three tiny bottles of vodka later, Seph was feeling pretty good about life. Another car was waiting for them at the airport, nondescript just like all the others and perfect for crime of any sort. Seph crawls into the passenger’s seat, dropping her kit in the back floorboard as Grady slides in behind the wheel.

“Just for the record, I loathe airplanes of any kind.”

“Noted,” he says, handing her another small bottle. “Have another drink to soothe your nerves.”

“Getting me drunk isn’t a good thing if you get injured.” But she downs it all the same, making a face as it burns its way down her throat. “Where to now?” Grady shrugs, turning on the radio as he pulls into the flow of traffic leaving the airport. It was slow going, but they eventually made it out on the highway. “You realize I can’t mend broken bones on the road, right?”

“I’ll be careful, Seph.”

“That’s all I’m asking.” She turns to stare out her window at the city, lights going on in some buildings and off in others as twilight descended; night owls getting ready to pull all-nighters, either partying or studying or a mix of the two. Seph was a night owl, even when she was a kid, staying up till the wee hours of the morning just to finish an essay over Alzheimer’s for a college she didn’t even graduate from.

“We’ll stop at gas station in a moment.”

“‘Kay.” She wasn’t paying much attention to the man beside her, gray-green eyes focused on the skyline past all the buildings as it slowly began to change into the hazy purple she loved. Twilight was the best time to be awake, it gave her a burst of energy like nothing else. Well, drugs helped sometimes, but it was never the same as staring out at the night beginning to descend over a busy city.

Fifteen minutes later found them walking into a convenience store that had seen better days, the woman behind the counter flipping through a magazine with a vague interest in some article about hairstyles. Seph had the same magazine in her bag, though she was more interested in the manicure tips it offered. She smiles a little at the thought, looking down at her nails and the bright pink polish the shone under the fluorescent lighting. They didn’t look half bad, but they’d need a touch-up when she got back home tomorrow.

“Find you something to snack on,” Grady advises as he heads for the medicine. “It’s liable to be a long night.”

“I’m not that hungry.”

“You’ve drank a lot and I’m not having you throw up in Zeke’s car.” She rolls her eyes and grabs a Twinkie off a shelf before moving over to a row of knickknacks, picking up a cheap bracelet that caught her eye. It was nothing fancy, the metal etched with scales and molded to form a dragon, three plastic gems embedded in its back. She slides it on all the same, not bothering to avoid the security camera as she tears the price sticker off and lets it flutter to the ground.

She continues down the short aisle, nodding at another shopper as she passes. The other woman was pretty, some pink highlights in her blonde hair, but she wasn’t Seph’s type and she was undeniably straight. Seph grabs up a can of Mountain Dew and makes her way back to the front of the store where Grady was already waiting, dropping her items on the counter next to the pills he’d picked up. Stay-Awake the box said in bold red letters, but Seph was wondering how they could possibly fuck Grady up more than he already was.

“Long night,” the cashier asks with a lascivious smile.

“Hot date,” Grady corrects, slapping Seph’s ass for emphasis. The blonde gives a lazy smile in response, grabbing her things as soon as Grady handed over the cash.

“Protection?” The cashier, Candance, looks him up and down with no attempt to cover up her attraction. Seph couldn’t really blame her, Grady was handsome in that rugged bad boy way most women found arousing. Even Seph could see the appeal, though she was just as likely to sleep with a man as she was to attack Russia in the dead of winter.

“We’re covered. Isn’t that right, babe?”

“Oh yeah,” Seph plays along. “He won’t be able to walk when I get through with him.” She squeezes his shoulder tight enough that, had he been able to feel it, he would’ve dropped to his knees with a squeak of pain. As it is, she just imagines the scene playing out like that as she walks back out to the car. Sometimes it really sucked that he couldn’t feel pain. “You broke that poor woman’s heart when she realized you weren’t taking her home,” she says when Grady slides behind the wheel.

“I find it’s best to do that quickly, sort of like ripping off a band aid.” She snorts, taking a sip of her pop as he started the car. “Doesn’t all that sugar make your ADHD worse?”

“You’d think that, but it actually helps keep me focused. It mimics some of the stimulants that my meds do just not as well. It’s like when you have a migraine and take a nap instead of popping some ibuprofen.” He makes an interested noise as he backs out of the parking lot, relying on Google Maps to find Marky’s house. “Speaking of which, remind me to take my meds when we get home in the morning.”

“Your memory failing in your old age, Seph?”

“Don’t forget that I can kill you using only an empty syringe.” She winks all the same and can see him fighting back a smile, the conversation a familiar one. It was just one of their things, he’d make fun of her for being so close to forty and she’d threaten to murder him if he kept it up.

Marky’s house ends up being in a fairly decent neighborhood, the type of place with white picket fences and lawn ornaments stolen from gated communities. Literally stolen, Marky had a moss-covered fountain in his front yard that had another family’s name carved into the base.

“Alright, d’you want to come in and say hi before I kill him?”

“Nah, I’ll stay out here.” Grady nods and heads up to the front door, rapping his knuckles against the white-painted wood. Seph watches on in amusement as he grows impatient and shoulders it open, a crack running up the frame from impact. “I’d shoot him if he did that to my door.” She nods to herself, opening up the glove compartment to dig through it. She was bored and there was no better cure for that than to put her nose where it didn’t belong.

When her door opens, she doesn’t immediately respond to it. She figured it was just Grady trying to make her jump and that he’d go away if she ignored him long enough. It’s not until her head is yanked back and a soaked rag is pressed over her nose and mouth that she realizes her attacker wasn’t her partner in crime after all.

Seph struggles to break out of the person’s hold, but the cloying scent of Chloroform was slowly making her arms feel like lead weights as they fell to her sides, vision going blurry and then dark barely a second later. She tries hard to fight against it, but the surprised breath she’d taken had let it in her system and it was too late. With one last groan, she fell into unconsciousness.

Her hearing is the first thing to come back, the sounds muffled and far away like she was swimming in the Gulf. She gives a tired smile, remembering how the sun had glittered when she looked up through the waves and the way her parents had yelled for her to surface long enough for lunch. But that memory seems swept away on a current as the voice grows clearer and she can recognize the accent.

The next sensation is her burning lungs, throat tight and the air she forces in sounding like a whistle. Seph forces her eyes to open, limbs sluggish and heavy as she sits bolt upright and dives for the bag in the floorboard, tearing it open and upending it until she can see her inhaler.

“Seph,” Grady asks, pulling the door open so he could see her better. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” she gasps, massaging her chest as though she could force the burning to go away. “Well, actually, I’m not fine. I was fucking drugged and the bastards threw me in the backseat like a goddamn duffle bag.” Her gaze lands on the skinny woman standing nearby, recognizing her from somewhere but unable to nail it down. “Who the fuck is that?”

“Doesn’t matter. What do you remember?”

“Someone Chloroformed my ass.”

“Well, if it makes you feel any better, I was Chloroformed and then this lady shot me up with Naloxone because she thought I’d overdosed on Heroin. I can feel things now, Seph! I don’t like it!” Seph’s brows furrow at the information dump, fingers twitching as she tried to map everything out. It couldn’t have been that long since she was drugged considering Chloroform only lasted a few minutes at the most, but the Naloxone could be a problem.

"I was knocked out for ten minutes and everything's gone to shit."

"And it's not even my fault this time."

Chapter 4: Poolside Pandemonium

Summary:

Don't bring guns to pool parties, kids.

Turns out having an extra person in the car sucks about as much as Seph figured it would. Not only was she forced to stay in the backseat like a disobedient toddler, but she couldn’t even listen to her road trip playlist. To put it lightly, it was complete and utter bullshit. Instead of raising the fourth complaint in less than three hours, Seph decides to focus on their next target.

“Have you noticed all our targets so far have been douchebags,” she wonders, leaning forward to peer out the windshield. “Marky tried to hack all my bank accounts last year and Nomack keeps telling me I should come to one of his parties, so he can finally have the orgy of his dreams.”

“At least they won’t be missed,” Grady shrugs.

“How are you supposed to get in there? You guys aren’t on the best of terms after you sent a male stripper to his house last Christmas.”

“That was your idea.” Seph smiles as she remembers just how red Nomack’s face got when he opened the door to a man dressed in a bright red speedo and Santa hat. After a moment, Grady turns in his seat to look at Zan. “Take off your shirt.” He casts Seph a quick look and quirks his brows. “You, too.” The blonde rolls her eyes and strips off her blazer and tank top, suddenly glad she’d gone with the Victoria’s Secret underwear last night. Zan, on the other hand, didn’t comply so quickly.

“Uh-uh,” she protests, shaking her head,” that’s not happening. Just shoot me in the face and get it over with.”

“Oh, relax, I just need you to go in the house.”

“Why me? Why can’t it just be her?”

“Because she’s mostly useless aside from her looks.”

“Hey,” Seph yells indignantly, delivering a hard punch to his shoulder. “Stitch yourself up next time you get tortured, you prick.”

“Shut up, you know it’s true. The last time you were sent in to do undercover work, you nearly killed a man.” She pouts but doesn’t say anything else, flopping back with her arms crossed. It wasn’t her fault that the target she’d been following had gotten handsy. Any sane woman would’ve stabbed him with a scalpel, too. “Look, Zan, all I need you to do is tell me how many people are there while Seph keeps Nomack occupied.”

“But I don’t understand why you need a count,” Zan says, still clutching the neck of her uniform shirt as though she expected him to rip it open.

“If you don’t do it, then I’ll just have to kill everyone in there. Think of all those innocent young girls that are just trying to put themselves through college.” She bites her lip and thinks it over for a minute before letting out a heavy sigh, undoing the buttons. “Atta girl.”

“What am I supposed to tell you when I’m inside?”

“The number of security guards and the number of witnesses. Seph can tell me the location of my target while he’s distracted by her boobs.” He glances back at her again, giving a little frown. “Maybe heft them up a bit.”

“Maybe I break your flat screen when we get back,” she shoots back.

“Then I’d be forced to stay with you whenever I wanted to watch cartoons.” That alone was enough of a deterrent and she made a quick mental note to have her door reinforced when they got back home. Satisfied that he wouldn’t wake up with a hammer embedded in his TV, Grady pulls out a phone and Bluetooth from the glovebox and holds the little device up for the women to see. “Now, Zan, this is synched with your phone, so you can tell me everything you see.”

“It’ll be too far out of range,” she tries, straightening her top. It was tight in all the right places and a bright red, flattering her skin tone.

“Do I really look that stupid to you? Never mind, don’t answer that. Isn’t that interesting?” Seph looks up from where she was adjusting her boobs to fit in the lacy bra better, spotting her friend as he studies something on the phone screen. “Whoever His Satanic Majesty is really wants to get ahold of you. He’s called six times and counting.”

“Jesus, that’s my boss. The name really sums up his entire personality. He’s the one who put me in the field tonight.”

“Boy, can I relate to that,” Seph mutters under her breath.

“What do you have your boss’ number saved as?”

“Sauron 2.0.”

“Nice.”

“Could you two please focus,” Grady demands. “We’re kind of in the middle of something here.” He lets out a sharp breath and mumbles something that sounds suspiciously like he was comparing them to anxious puppies. “Zan, put your hair down.”

“What? No! I put it up wet this morning, it’ll look stupid.”

“Well, you’re going to have to hide the Bluetooth if you’re actually going to be of any use tonight.” She scowls as she lets her hair down, running her fingers through the tangled mess just enough to keep it flat before accepting the Bluetooth. “One of you has to charm the guard at the front door in order to get inside.”

“I can’t even charm my way out of a plastic bag.”

“Relax,” Seph says, opening her door,” I got this.” Zan hurries out of the car and comes to walk beside Seph, fidgeting nervously with the hem of her shirt.

“Seriously? What’s your plan?”

“To make Nomack think he’s getting what he’s always wanted.” The man stationed out front was bored as all hell and in his mid-forties, beak of a nose reminding her more of Klinger than anything. She loops an arm around Zan’s waist to keep the other woman from backing out at the last minute, keeping a cool smirk in place as they come to a stop in front of the guard.

“Private party,” the man states before Seph could even open her mouth.

“Nomack’s expecting me and this is my plus one.”

“I doubt it.”

“Why don’t you go on in there and tell your boss that Seph is here and she brought a friend along for an afterparty?” He doesn’t budge, just giving her that same dull-eyed look of a watchdog past its prime. She purses her lips, freeing her right arm and reaching for the scalpel she had in the back pocket of her jeans. Zan grabs her wrist quickly, panic making her eyes bright.

“We’re gonna perform the balloon trick on him,” she blurts out, voice taking on a cockney accent.

“What’s the balloon trick,” the goon asks boredly. Zan meets Seph’s gaze, swallowing hard when she doesn’t say anything. What the hell could she say? It’s not as though they’d rehearsed this and Seph had been depending on Nomack having her name on the list.

“Uh, well, you know how to make balloon animals? I can do that… With a condom…. While it’s still on. Seph here is my assistant, you know. She stands there and looks pretty in barely any clothes.” There was a moment of tense silence where Seph was sure that the guy was about to shoot them both, but then he cracks a smile and nods towards the house.

“Go on in, girls. Have fun.” Seph made it two feet past the guard before turning back to look at him, brows furrowed.

“So Seph wasn’t on the list,” she asks.

“Nope.”

“Then what the hell did he have me down as?” The guard pulls out his phone and scrolls through a list of names before letting out a small sound.

“Persephone.”

“Why the fuck would he have that name on there? Literally no one has called me that since I was ten.” She’s still grumbling as Zan pulls her up the walk and to the front door, leaving the other blonde behind to head straight to the pool outside. “It just makes no damn sense. Hell, I didn’t think anyone other than Grady and Zeke knew my full first name.”

“Seph,” Nomack calls, forcing her to focus again.

“Nomack, you fuckin’ hippy!” She gives him a bright smile, crossing the patio over to where he and another woman were sitting. Marky had always looked like one of those geeks in high school that wore graphic tees and complained about fake geek girls, but Nomack looked more like he just walked out of Woodstock; long, pale brown hair and a scraggly goatee to match.

“Did you finally agree to take me up on my offer?”

“I was more thinking that you might share some of your girls with me.” She plops down in a across from him, stealing a joint out of the ashtray and taking a short toke from it. “I almost didn’t get in, though. Apparently you had me down as Persephone.”

“Yes, I didn’t want any imposters to get my hopes up.” Over his shoulder, she could see Zan striding in wearing only black panties with her red shirt pulled up and tied to look like a bikini top. “Would you like something a bit stronger than that?”

“Oh no, I’ve gotta stay sharp in case Boss needs me for something. You know how our kind is, always in need of medical assistance.” He throws his head back in a laugh that made Seph want to grind her teeth, but she keeps the smile up all the same. She had to keep him distracted while Zan scoped everything out for Grady or else she’d never live it down. “Speaking of, look who decided to show up and join the fun.” She nods towards Grady, Nomack following her gaze.

“Well, look what the cat dragged in. Grady, you’re the last person I expected to see here, man.”

“Even I have to unwind every now and then,” Grady shrugs, completely relaxed. “Mind if I steal you away for a moment?”

“We have all night for such things. Come here and meet my girls!” Grady’s smile never falters as he comes over, hauling Seph out of her chair and into his lap to keep up a calm façade. As far as anyone else here knew, the trio of newcomers had arrived separately and no deaths were about to occur. 

“This is important.” Nomack isn’t too stoned to recognize Grady’s tone, nodding towards the pool and waiting until two of the three women had wandered off before speaking again.

“Vanessa, why don’t you go and find us some more coke, huh?” The pretty brunette shrugs and slides off Nomack’s lap, Seph’s eyes watching her hips as she saunters away. “You see, Grady? Even our sawbones can recognize the finer things in life.”

“How do you even get all of these girls,” Seph asks, fingers absently playing with the hair at the back of Grady’s neck. “You look like you just tumbled out of a cave.”

“I wear something other than tank tops.”

“Yeah, but I wax.” He snorts, eyes trailing over Seph’s jean-clad legs and her bare stomach. It wasn’t as flat as it used to be, but she didn’t much care since she rarely left her apartment anymore. She’d do the occasional sit-ups and kept up with her yoga, but nothing more strenuous beyond downward dog.

“If you two are done with your comparisons, perhaps we can move inside where it’s a little more private,” Grady interjects, grip on Seph’s hip tightening. She sits straighter in his lap when Nomack smacks a pistol down on the table, left hand inching down towards the scalpel in her back pocket. This could turn into a bloodbath easily with as much drugs and booze that Nomack has in his system.

“Nomack, is that any way to treat your guests?”

“It is for my guests that I am doing this,” he answers, running his fingers over the cylinder of the thirty-eight. “What better entertainment than a gatecrasher that cannot feel pain? Think of it as price of admission if you must.”

“And why would these girls want to watch you shoot someone? They’re not like us, they’re delicate.” She leans forward, right hand on the table and left hand grazing the covered edge of her weapon. It’s times like these that she really regrets not allowing Zeke to buy her that Walther P22 five years ago.

“They’re whores, Seph. I think they can handle a little blood as long as we have a doctor nearby.” Grady shifts underneath her and then she feels the cold metal of his own pistol being drawn beneath the table, carefully angled at Nomack’s stomach. The target hefts the small revolver in his grasp, pulling the hammer back and pointing it steadily at Grady’s head. “Why don’t you tell me what you two are doing here uninvited and I might rethink who I shoot?”

“That’s hardly a good deal,” Grady says, watching as Nomack stands. “Why would I ever come to one of your little parties unless I had a good reason?”

“What do you mean he has AIDS?” The unexpected shout has everyone turning to look at where Vanessa and another girl are standing, Vanessa shooting Nomack a disgusted look. Seph’s eyebrows meet her hairline as she glances over at Zan, the other woman giving a shrug in response that had Seph fighting not to giggle. “Jesus, you’re disgusting!”

Grady took that as the best time to strike, practically shoving the blonde off his lap so he could stand and knock the pistol out of Nomack’s hand. The other man backhands Grady with reflexes far too quick for a man that was stoned out of his mind, Grady’s head snapping to the side from the force. Seph reacts on pure instinct, jumping onto Nomack’s back and wrapping her arms around his neck in a chokehold.

Nomack grabs a handful of her hair, yanking until he was able to roll her off of him and to the concrete. She hits hard, shoulder throbbing even as she forces herself up enough to grab his legs. “Grady,” she shouts, struggling to keep him away from the fallen revolver,” a little help would be appreciated!” Grady lunges forward and lands a solid punch to Nomack’s cheek, following it up with a kick to his middle.

“Grady,” Nomack laughs, teeth stained red with blood. “Oh, Grady, you shouldn’t have come here tonight.” He pushes himself forward, wrapping his arms around Grady’s middle and throwing them both into the pool, a gunshot ringing loudly. Seph winces at the sound, scrambling forward with her scalpel in hand just in case the wrong man had bit the bullet. It’s Grady that comes up for air, choking on water as he tried to grab onto the rock ledge of the pool.

“It’s okay,” she soothes, grabbing his jacket and hauling him over to her. “It’s gonna be okay, I’ve got you.” Which, really shouldn’t be comforting since she’s responsible for killing half a dozen guys in the past six months, but Grady relaxes slightly into her hold as she drags him out of the water.

“What’s— What’s wrong with me? Why can’t I move?”

“You’re going into shock from the cold water.” The cold detachment of her medical training keeps her hands steady as she yanks the wet clothes off of him and elevates his feet. “Stay here and don’t move, alright? I’ll get Zan and be right back.”

“Don’t leave me here! Why do I feel emotional? I don’t like it!”

“It’s just a symptom of shock. I promise it’ll go away soon.” She grabs a few towels and throws them over him as a makeshift blanket. “Five seconds, Grady. And stay awake!” She hauls ass into the house, finding Zan and the lackey from earlier in the living room. Seph grabs a heavy metal tray off a side table, the smattering of coke and a mirror tumbling to the ground as she brings it down hard against the goon’s head. He collapses like a puppet with its strings cut, allowing her to break his neck without a struggle.

“What the hell,” Zan breathes, hands still up from when the man had been pointing a gun at her.

“Make yourself useful and help me get Grady into a bathtub.”

The two women manage to get Grady into the master bathroom and then into a tub of warm water, Seph staying with him to make sure he didn’t get worse while Zan hovered in the doorway. Grady seemed almost surprised at the feeling of warmth, skimming his fingers over the water’s surface and through the steam once they’d stopped shaking.

“Feeling better now?”

“Not as bad as I was,” he murmurs. “My hand hurts.” He holds up his dominant hand and Seph massages the knuckles, letting out a pleased sound when she was done.

“Bruised, not broken.”

“At least that means you don’t have to mend bones on the road.”

“The night’s still young and we have two more assholes to take care of before we can go home.” He hums, watching the steam curl and dance as it comes off the water. “Let’s get you dried off before you turn into a prune.” Zan lends a hand on getting him out, both women making sure he was steady on his feet before moving into the attached bedroom.

“We’ll need to keep an eye on him,” Zan says, folding up one of the towels from outside. “He should be fine, though.”

“I’m well aware.” Seph heaves a deep breath, moving over to a mirror in order to put her hair back into a braid. “I’ll be back in two minutes. If you’re gone when I get back in here, I will hunt you down and make you hurt. Understood?”

“Yeah, got it.” Seph narrows her eyes at the other woman, then jogs out of the house to the rental car. She wants her bag just in case something goes wrong with Grady and she needs her Adderall if she’s going to keep her thoughts from scattering. The prescription bottle is in one of the side pockets and Seph dry swallows one of the little orange pills, silently praying this dose won’t come with a headache.

When she gets back inside, Grady is sitting on the bed and running his hand over the soft throw pillows while Zan cleaned up the mess in the bathroom. Seph gives the other woman a nod before beginning a quest to find Grady something dry to wear.

“So, where are you from, Grady,” Zan asks after a moment of quiet. “You’re obviously British.”

“Kings Langley, Hertfordshire,” Grady answers, tracing the grooves of a pillow with one finger.

“That anywhere near Hogwarts?”

“About seven hours by car.”

“What about you?” Seph looks up from where she’d been poking around in the closet, arms filled with a couple pairs of jeans and a few shirts for Grady to pick from. The biggest challenge would be finding underwear that didn’t resemble a thong. “Your accent’s all over the place sometimes.”

“I’ve been a little of everywhere,” she shrugs, one hand dropping to the pocket of her bag that held her penlight. She brought it out as she continued to speak, clicking it as a means to keep her mind on track. “Born in Australia, two years in Cairo and London, three in Budapest and New Zealand, four in Africa and Hawaii, and one in Texas and Prague.”

“Seriously? Your parents must have been loaded.”

“No, they were bank robbers,” Grady fills in, having heard the story after a drunken night. “She got away when she was twenty and stayed in Florida for about eleven years. Never told me why, though.” 

“Why so long in Florida?”

“It was warm,” Seph says, voice barely above a murmur as she remembered flashes of red hair in bright sunshine and a laugh like bells. “Doesn’t really matter now. I’ve been here for seven years and I doubt I’ll leave anytime soon.”

“As a crazy guy’s personal doctor?”

“Something like that, yeah.”

Chapter 5: Electroids and More

Summary:

Grady and Seph terrify a retail worker.

“A fucking nail through his hand? How did you not freak out about that?”

“Because it was tame compared to the other shit I’ve stitched up over the years,” Seph shrugs, munching on her Twinkie. “One time, he showed up at my apartment with a half-severed finger.” Zan shoots Grady a disapproving look, shaking her head a little.

“You could at least buy her a good bottle of wine every now and then.”

“It wasn’t my fault that I got tortured,” Grady protests, the ultimate look of betrayal on his face. “I was just walking down the sidewalk with a plan to buy toast for breakfast and the next thing I know, some idiot’s tied me up in a warehouse and is going to town on my squishy parts.” He frowns at the memory. “I don’t know why he thought my fingers were squishy, but I wasn’t going to protest if it kept my dick attached.”

“Criminals are just getting dumber and dumber.”

“It’s like dealing with Ernest P. Worrell every day of the week.”

“Ha,” Seph exclaims from the backseat,” I knew you liked those movies!”

“I didn’t like them. They’re aimed at children with short attention spans and no sense of actual humor.” Seph rolls her eyes and leans forward so she could look up at her friend. “Don’t give me that look, Seph.” She arches a brow and pokes out her bottom lip in a pout. “Alright, fine, the one where he’s chased by an evil troll isn’t horrible.”

“The Africa one is the best and you know it.”

“You’re both idiots,” Zan interrupts. “Ernest Goes to Camp blows them all out of the water with it’s reoccurring jokes. Plus, it’s the only Ernest movie to be mentioned in the other ones.”

“You just like the idea tiny delinquents ganging up on unsuspecting camp counselors.”

“Damn right.” Grady parks the car in the pocking lot of a strip mall, mostly abandoned and dark aside from a twenty-four-hour vet clinic and an electronics shop that doesn’t close for another hour. “Do we have a game plan for this place? Gonna cuff me to the steering wheel or something?”

“I thought we’d just go in and tell them to fix my phone,” Grady says, giving her a concerned look. “Are you into handcuffs or…?”

“No, you just seem like the kind of creep that carries them around is all.”

“You totally do,” Seph laughs. “Pretty on the outside and a mess of weird kinks on the inside.”

“Says the woman that carries around a scalpel just for funsies.” Grady snorts, narrowly dodging Seph’s fist as he gets out of the car. “C’mon, let’s get this over with so I can get back to my niece.” Hayley had called just fifteen minutes ago, ensuing awkward comforting on Grady’s part, teary eyes from Zan, and Seph trying her best to disappear so that she didn’t have to comfort anyone. She doesn’t do comfort, she does medical care and the occasional body shots with the brunette in 9C.

“Hi,” a chipper man greets when the trio walk into the shop. “Welcome to Electroids and More! My name is Kurt and I’ll be the one to help you guys out tonight.” He’s probably in his early twenties, fresh-faced and full of optimism. Seph really wants to make him hurt.

“Hi, Kurt.”

“How can I be of service today?” Grady slides the ruined cell phone across the counter, a streak of water following it after a dip in Nomack’s pool. “Whoa! This little guy isn’t having the best day, is he?”

“I need my contacts transferred to a new phone with the same number,” Grady says, straight-faced and unforgiving.

“No problem. While you’re here, could I interest you in one of our amazing new data plans—”

“You really couldn’t.”

“Alright, well, it’ll take a while to get everything you want done.”

“Imagine I’m carrying a gun.” Kurt swallows hard, gaze shifting between the two women and a nervous light entering his eyes when he realizes Grady just might be serious. “If it speeds you up, the blonde on the end with the awful taste in shirts might be carrying a knife.” Kurt’s gaze swings right over to Seph and she gives him a sharp smile.

“Ten minutes sound good? We’ll do this in ten— Jim, can we— Jim’s not here.” He shakes his head, babbling nervously as he snaps the back off the phone. Water spurts out of it, making wet spots against the blue of his dark blue polo. “Yup, definitely ten minutes.”

“Excellent. Seph, you wanna…?” He trails off and nods towards the terrorized college kid, the blonde’s smile turning into a grin as she hops up on a display case. There were so few perks to her job, but making a man pee his pants is one of her favorites. Kurt fumbles with the halves of the cell, but he doesn’t drop them like a weaker person might have.

“Just pretend I’m not here,” she says, pulling her own phone out of the pocket of her blazer.

“I don’t think that’s as easy as you’re implying,” he tells her. She arches a brow and he ducks his head, working on digging the sim card out of the ruined phone. “But I’ll do my best.” Her own phone was a crappy little thing, the same type you’d find in convenience stores across America, but it had games on it and that’s all she cared about.

“Ow!” She looks up in time to see Grady yanking his hand away from Zan’s, rubbing at the top of it and pouting. “That’s just rude,” he says, frowning. The pair exchange a few more whispers and then Zan is walking out of the store, waving her hands at the car until Grady brings the fob out to unlock it.

“Women, one minute they’re totally cool and then they’re throwing your Xbox into a dumpster because they think your relationship with your team is stronger than the one you have with them.”

“Kurt?”

“Yup?”

“Let’s play the quiet game for a while.”

“What happened over there,” Seph asks, nodding to where the other two had been standing earlier. Grady shakes his head, not bothering to answer as he looked over the little pieces of tech on a discount table. “She pinched you, didn’t she?”

“This isn’t how we play the quiet game.”

“I’ve never won that, so why should I start now? Besides, annoying you is a lot more fun.”

“I have a gun, remember?”

“I have a scalpel and sociopathic tendencies, remember?” It had been the deciding factor in the long run, the Dean of her college booting her out and Zeke’s group picking her up a week later. Apparently having moral ambiguity is perfect for stitching up criminals that she might have to kill later on.

“Just stick to playing Snake.” Seph does exactly that, not putting her phone up until Kurt was clicking a shiny new phone together. “Is it done?”

“Yes sir. How would you like to pay?” Grady snatches the phone out of Kurt’s hand and walks out the door without a backwards glance. “So…. Are you paying?” She scoffs, hopping down and walking it out to the car.

“Fairbanks is next.”

Chapter 6: Air Embolisms and Hydration

Summary:

Seph shows how good she is with a needle and Zan pops Grady's cherry.

The trio of criminals stare out the windshield at the boxing gym, none of them speaking for a moment as they tried to figure out of feasible plan of action. Seph, for one, voted on taking Fairbanks out to Sonic and slipping poison in his Butterfinger blast. It takes care of two problems, their target and Seph’s rumbly tummy. Grady shot that down, however, and now she was wondering if she’d ever get supper.

“I got an idea,” Zan says after a moment. “You go do a strip tease and Seph could sneak up behind him with a needle full of Heroin.”

“How many times do I have to tell you that I don’t do drugs,” Grady demands, turning an offended look on the blonde. “Seph, tell her what happened the last time I smoked pot with you.”

“He nearly died because he’s allergic,” Seph informs her new friend. “But I’m thinking that he’d be one of those stoners that just gets really depressing even if he took an upper.”

“Actually I meant that time I tried to kill your neighbor’s Shih Tzu, but the depressing angle works too. Now, while we’re on the subject of drugs that I don’t like—” He gives Zan a long, hard look here “—what will this Naloxone bullshit cause me to feel next? Because, I’ve got to tell you, killing people is hard when I can actually feel things.”

“Everything, my dude. My advice is to make it a quick and unexpected death for our dear Gatekeeper.”

“Gatekeeper,” Zan asks, turning in her seat. “Do you guys seriously have codenames? The eagle lands at midnight, the crow flies at dawn, Elvis has left the building?” She snorts out a laugh and Seph really wished the Elvis one wasn’t intimately familiar. Zeke is many things, but original isn’t one of them. Of course, when Elvis leaves the building, then Seph ends up having men bleeding out in her bathtub.

“He’s ex-military intelligence and a total music snob.”

“He’s also the man that keep my boss informed of what the rival gangs are up to,” Grady says, narrowing his eyes at the gym. “How the fuck am I going to kill him when cold water made me go into shock?”

“Carefully.” Seph pats his shoulder and a sarcastic grin. “Good luck, big fella.”

“Don’t look so smug back there, you two are coming in with me as backup.”

“Do you guys have super secret nicknames,” Zan asks, making Grady pause where he gripped the door handle. Seph busies herself with slipping her feet back into her boots, tightening the laces.

“Seph’s is Bones.”

“Like the anthropologist?”

“No,” Seph shakes her head,” like the overworked and underappreciated doctor on Star Trek. I’m the European edition.”

“What about you, Grady?”

“Yeah, Grady, tell the lady your name.” Seph gives him a sugary sweet smile as she leans forward, resting her cheek on the back of his seat. He narrows his eyes again, a warning look, it usually led to Seph having to draw on her eyebrows until they grew back in. “Grady’s a little shy when it comes to his moniker. I only learned it after getting Zeke drunk one night.”

“Can we please just go in,” he demands. “I’ve got an entire season of House on my DVR just begging me to finish it.”

Inside the gym smells like old socks and sweat, two men sparring in the ring and a few more lifting weights throughout the open space. It’s not as bad as Seph thought it would be, but it could definitely do with a makeover; maybe some Febreze if nothing else. At the far end of the room a pair of bodyguards were loitering in front of a closed door, wrapping their knuckles and stretching as though preparing for a fight.

“He’s in there.”

“My, you’re observant.” Grady shoots an unimpressed look in Seph’s direction, lips twitching in a frown. “We got a plan or are we improvising again? ‘Cause I gotta say, not a fan of that so far.”

“The plan is that I’m gonna go in there and kill Fairbanks.”

“The guy that could break you like a twig?”

“Yup.”

“I’ll make sure a nice wreath is delivered to your funeral.”

“You’re coming in there with me.”

“Like hell I am.”

“You are, and Zan is gonna sit out here in case any cops try to drop in.” Zan looked ready to protest, but Grady cut her off sharply. “Go find a seat and stay quiet. This shouldn’t take too long.” Zan sticks her tongue out before walking off, Grady taking a steadying breath before striding forward with Seph in toe.

“Miss Bay,” one of the goons greets when he spots them. “I didn’t think you ever left your apartment. What did the boss threaten you with?”

“Yearly physicals,” she answers, hefting up her kit for the men to see. “I’ve gotta do Fairbanks’ tonight or Zeke is gonna disconnect my WiFi.”

“Ouch, that’s just cruel.”

“I’ll just have to make sure his next prostate exam hurts a little more than usual.” The goons spare a laugh at that, sobering when they turn their gazes to Grady. It was extremely rare to see Seph out and about, but Grady meant bad things. Funnily enough, these bad things were traveling in threes since Zan and her drugs are what’s forcing Seph to tag along inside.

“Grady, what’s up, man?”

“Just playing the part of bodyguard tonight,” Grady shrugs. “Apparently Bay’s just important enough to the organization that someone might want to snatch her up.”

“Lucky me, right,” she snorts. “Stuck with the guy that doesn’t even have a funny bone.” She nods at the closed office door, then looks to the goon she’d been talking to. “You mind letting us in? I’d like to get this over with, so I can fly back home where an entire bookcase of horror movies is waiting for me.” The guy nods and pushes the door open for them, letting them pass before shutting it again.

Fairbanks is sitting in a leather armchair when they enter, not yet taking his gaze off the little television set. World series chess was playing on the screen, staticky from the poor signal and the announcer’s voice tinny. Fairbanks is a fairly large man, stocky like most boxers with gray hair that falls over his shoulders; his chin just out and there’s a thin scar that ran over the back of his knuckles on the right hand from a particularly brutal fight. He’d been the first person Seph stitched up in Cali.

“The dynamic duo,” he states, finally glancing over at the pair. “Which one of you is the sidekick.” Seph and Grady each point at the other, not willing to fall into that role. “So, are you here to kill me or what?”

“Why does everyone’s mind immediately jump to that conclusion,” Seph wonders, looking to Grady for the answers. “Can’t we just be here for physicals? Hell, maybe I just wanted to get Grady in the ring and knock him out.”

“Persephone, you can’t even throw a punch without squealing like a baby.”

“How was I supposed to know your head is made of cement?” She moves over to him while Grady drops onto the sofa, setting her bag on a little end table so she could dig through it. She had a plan in mind to make all of this simple, but it’d only work if she appeared non-threatening. “Now sit still and let me check you over so Zeke stays off my ass.”

“No need to pretend with me, sweetheart.” His cold gray eyes stay trained on Grady even as Seph begins to dig through her kit. “There’s only one reason why Grady would show up here without warning. Besides, I always figured he’d be the one to end me.” He shifts in his seat, pulling his long hair back into a ponytail. “Who do you think they’ll send after you, Grady?”

“Probably Seph,” he says, nonchalant. “She’d be the first to volunteer and has the best chance of getting close enough to finish the job.”

“I’m surprised you haven’t already finished me off.”

“You expect me to just waltz in here and make it quick? No fanfare or respect?”

“I’ve never been fond of sugarcoating things.”

“You’re the closest thing I have to a father figure, so I thought you deserved some dignity. At the very least, and explanation.”

“You know, I always figured I’d take you down with me when a hit was ordered, but that doesn’t seem likely since I left my gun in my desk drawer. So, what’s your plan, kids?”

“When I got the text, I thought you and I could go for a walk and end up in the same alley your found me in. Then I thought I could just shoot you and hope to outrun the men you have posted outside before they even realized what was happening.” Grady stands and stretches like a house cat in sunlight, fingers flexing against his sides once he’d lowered his arms again. “But then Seph threatened me a few hours ago and it just kind of stuck in my head.”

Seph meets his gaze over Fairbanks’ head, already prepping a syringe while their target was focused on the primary threat. It’ll be best if Fairbanks didn’t see this coming, certainly easier considering Seph wasn’t even half his size and would probably go down easily if he decided to fight.

“Well, I’d say it’s been nice knowing you, but lying’s never been my strong suit. Go ahead and get it over with, Grady.” Seph could see Fairbanks’ shoulders going rigid as he braced for an attack, the vein along the base of his throat barely visible and a perfect target. While he prepared to lunge forward, Seph jabs the needled into the interior jugular vein and presses down on the plunger, blowing air into Fairbanks body and throwing him off course.

Fairbanks yanks the needle out himself, jumping to his feet with a meaty fist drawn back to strike. He doesn’t even manage a follow through, a punched-out sound making his belly convulse as though he’d been hit, legs collapsing a moment later. He clasps at the material over his heart, clawing and scratching as though he’d be able to draw a breath if he could just get his jacket off. It doesn’t take long after that, lips going blue as he falls to his side, followed by a harsh convulsion and then nothing.

Seph moves around the chair to examine him, pleased when she feels his pulse sputter to a stop and a last gusty breath escapes past his lips. Air embolisms weren’t pretty things, but they got the job done with little blood left behind. Satisfied that Fairbanks wouldn’t be hitting her anytime soon, she picks up the syringe and drops it into a Ziploc baggy before sliding that into an empty side pocket of her bag.

“Holy shit,” Grady mutters, prodding at Fairbanks with his foot. “That actually worked.”

“When have I ever lied to you about medical procedures that can be used to murder people?”

“Never, but I thought the empty syringe thing was a bit of a stretch.” She shrugs, zipping her kit up and shouldering it before gesturing at the door. “Hang on, let me send our darling boss his confirmation text.” He types it out quickly, not waiting for a reply before opening the door and letting Seph out first.

“How’d it go in there,” Goon Two asks as Grady shuts the door behind them.

“Not too bad,” Seph lies smoothly. “His blood pressure is a little high tonight, so maybe let him rest in peace for an hour or so before asking him if he’d like something to eat. Try to keep him away from the red meats, but yogurt and bananas are fine.”

“Sure thing, Miss Bay.” She gives him a playful smile, following after Grady towards the entrance. He catches Zan’s head on the way out, nodding at the front door and pausing for a split second until she stood up. The man she’d been talking to looked slightly out of it, like he’d taken one too many blows to the head, but Seph wasn’t too concerned. She waits until Zan has joined them before beginning her teasing.

“Flirting while a dude’s being murdered twenty feet away? Real classy, hon.”

“I wasn’t flirting, I work with that bozo. He’s got a concussion.”

“Did you tell him to drink a lot of water?”

“Of course I did, I’m not an idiot.” Shouting starts up right as they reach the door, Goon One shouting for an ambulance with Fairbanks’ office door wide open. “Unlike you two apparently.”

“I told them to leave him alone for an hour, but no one listens to the fucking doctor.” They hurry out the door into the fresh air, barely making it three steps before Zan is urging them towards a crowded bar.

“What the hell,” Grady demands. “We’ve got a car.”

“And a tail. How about we lose him before he can write down our license plate, huh?” Seph honestly hated crowds, she’d rather stay curled up somewhere private in her jammies with a pint of mint chocolate chip. However, she’d rather brave a bunch of drunken idiots if it meant not being followed by a concussed doofus.

“The bar.” The trio wade through the crowd and over to the bar, Seph ordering a shot of tequila to help with the throbbing migraine she could feel coming on. The other two keep their shoulders hunched, but Seph remains sitting straight as she downs the shot. “We need to get out of here without your pal noticing.”

“Uh… Wait here, I have an idea.” Seph watches as Zen clutches the neck of her tee, going up to one of the bouncers and saying something as she pointed out the man following them. The guy, it turns out, is about five-eleven and maybe two-hundred pounds, fairly average for a boxer in his early forties. The bouncer squares his shoulders and heads over to the other man, pushing at his chest as Zan rejoins the other two.

“What’d you tell him?”

“That Rigg’s groped me. Now, let’s get moving.”

They end up parked on the top level of a nearby parking garage, using it as an excuse to relax and to see if Riggs was still tailing them. Seph wasn’t complaining, it gave her an excuse to break out the box of Cheerios she’d smuggled in one of her bags and tip it over her mouth like a toddler. Was it the most dignified way to eat cereal? Probably not, but she was starving and didn’t have a bowl.

Grady and Zan were talking quietly near the front of the car, not really paying attention to Seph as she made herself comfortable leaning against the side of the car. Seph focuses on her food as Grady begins to pace, stretching his muscles after driving for so long and all the strain he’d put on them tonight. Must be strange for him to feel the tingling pleasure that comes from stretching overtaxed muscles. It could be anywhere from thirty minutes to seven hours before the Naloxone is out of his system.

It’s the ping of a text message coming through that had her focusing back on her partners in crime, Grady pulling out his cell and then making a noise of disgust low in his throat. “What,” Seph asks, setting her Cheerios down on the trunk.

“I know who drugged me,” he says, shaking his head. “I know who set all of this up just to fuck with us.”

“Who?” Seph was drawing a blank, she may not get glowing reviews from her patients considering she has no bedside manner, but she didn’t think she was bad enough to warrant something like this. Grady, on the other hand, was an absolute twat no matter how you looked at it.

“The same guy who’s always wanted to slice me open and see what makes me tick, Seph. The same guy that calls you an amateur whenever you’re near him for more than fifteen seconds.” Now it’s Seph’s turn to make the disgusted sound, wanting to lash out at the sadistic freak that put her through all of this. She might have sociopathic tendencies, but at least she didn’t get off on seeing people in agony.

“Next time I see that dick, I’m gonna strap him to his own table and show him just how capable I am with a scalpel.”

“Let me know when that’s happening so I can stop by and watch.”

“Who the hell are you guys talking about,” Zan asks, looking between the criminals with her brows furrowed.

“His name’s Vick, but everyone calls him the Interrogator. He’s a real sicko, even Seph tries to avoid him and she spends half her time watching serial killer documentaries on Netflix and the other half stitching up wounds.” He scoffs, pacing back over to the car.

“If he’s that bad, then maybe you should go back to Hogwarts and pretend none of this ever happened.” Zan turns to include Seph in her pleading stare, but the taller blonde glances away stubbornly.

“Not gonna happen. I’ve come this far and I’m not going to stop now. I’ll give you a silver lining though, you’re free to go. Thank you for flying with us this evening, Alexandra. We understand when choosing a kidnapper, you have many options, so thank you for your business. Please remember us this time next year.” He hands her the EMT top she’d been wearing when all of this kicked off, looking surprised when Zan latches onto his wrist.

“Hold up, are you breaking up with me?”

“Was I not obvious enough? I could have Seph translate.”

“Fuck you, I’m staying.”

“No, you’re not.” Watching Zan chase Grady around to the driver’s side and slip between him and the car was the most amusing thing to happen all night. It’s like seeing a kitten cozying up to a lion, just without the bloodshed that normally accompanies that and the scarred childhood that follows. Also, the kitten probably wouldn’t start kissing the lion like there’s no mañana.

Wait, what?

Grady arches a brow at Seph over Zan’s head, looking like he’d forgotten she was there. Seph couldn’t blame him, if someone as hot as Zan was kissing her, then she’d probably forget about everything too. “Y’all go ahead,” she says, digging a flask out of her bag. “I’ll just be over here getting drunk.”

“You’re a good friend, Seph.”

“You just focus on popping your cherry, big guy.”

Chapter 7: The Perks of Hostage Negotiation

Summary:

Grady, Zan, and Seph come face-to-face with the mastermind.

Of all the ways Seph expected her night to end, walking Zan home while Grady went after Vick wasn’t on the list. She wasn’t complaining by any means, Zan was great company and it felt nice to walk in the relative quiet that cities after one in the morning provide, but it made her uneasy to know that her best friend could be tortured. Vick is beyond sick in the head, he was a sadist with egotistical ideals and a habit of monologuing.

“Hey.” Seph glances up from where she’d been focusing on scuffed leather of her boots. “I can get home on my own if you want to go after Grady.”

“No,” Seph shakes her head. “I was given a job and I’d like to see you get home alive.” She’s grown fond of Zan over the last few hours, the other blonde having a similar sense of humor and a low tolerance for Grady’s bullshit. They walk another few blocks in silence, then headlights are washing over them as a panel van turns onto the street, black and creeping a little too slowly even at this hour. “Zan, we need to get off the street.”

“What, why?”

“Because I noticed that van following us three miles ago and now they’re back. We’re in a relatively abandoned neighborhood, they’re obviously not too scared to use their headlights, and we’re attractive enough to be kidnapped even if we didn’t have targets on our backs the size of my ego.”

“You don’t have a modest bone in your body, do you?”

“Not particularly, no.” She latches onto Zan’s arm and tugs her onto a narrow street, trying to keep her pace steady in case they needed to run. “There’s a safe house a couple more blocks from here, it looks pretty shitty on the outside, but the inside is all high tech security systems.” Seph keeps her voice low, aware of another set of footsteps behind them. “I want you to run as soon as we’re across the street. 715 East Avenue, the passcode to get inside is coconuts and the passcode to the weapons safe is Antioch.”

“You’re coming with me.”

“Let’s hope so.” The second they crossed the street, she shoves Zan towards a brightly lit alley and turns to face the stalkers, taking on a fighting stance and trying to remember some of the stuff her father had taught her. “Don’t freaks like you have other things you could be doing this early in the morning,” she taunts, trying to keep their attention on her. “You know, like summoning Cthulhu in your mom’s basement?”

“Do we really look like the type of guys that would do that,” the younger, heavier one asks. He might have been cute if Seph were actually into guys and he wasn’t currently threatening her. He’s a big guy, short brown hair and a sparse goatee, dressed in a slightly too big suit with a blue shirt and black tie.

“Do you really want me to answer that, big fella?” The other man was probably in his late forties or early fifties, white hair just long enough to style; wearing tailored trousers, a white dress shirt, and a matching suspenders-bow tie combination. “Your sidekick over there looks more like the type to summon a lesser demon, but a weirdo just the same.”

“How about you just shut your mouth and take a drive with us? Make it easier on everyone.”

“Or I could kill you both and leave your corpses for some dogs to eat.”

“A little morbid for someone meant to save lives.”

“I became a doctor because I wanted to see what makes human bodies tick. They don’t have to be alive for me to find that answer, hon.” She had her hand hovering over where her scalpel was hidden, ready to start hacking away with her only weapon, but then something was colliding with the back of her head and she was falling to the sidewalk with a muttered curse before darkness flooded in.

~::*::~

When Seph managed to force her eyes open again, she finds herself in the familiar office of her boss. Zeke was sitting across the desk from her, tied to his office chair with a gag in his mouth to keep his cries muffled. He looked like shit, beaten and bruised and bloody, his glasses missing from their usual perch on his nose.

“Aw fuck,” she groans. Her own wrists were tied to the wooden arms of the office chair, the plush velvet soft at her back and bottom. “Vick’s not the bad guy, is he?” Zeke shakes his head, looking dazed and squinting in the dim overhead lights. “Great, the big man in charge has a concussion.”

“Better than a JC,” says a man behind her. He comes around so she can see him, skinny as a rail and tall, British with a ridiculous outfit that belonged in B-action movies. Seriously, who the fuck wears a cravat anymore?

“Are you the one who drove a nail through Grady’s hand? ‘Cause that was just nasty.”

“Actually, that was my boys. They were a little fed up by then and it’s something they save as the last resort.” Seph nods, understanding the urge to stab her friend with sharp instruments.

“Is there any reason in particular that you decided to kidnap the only two women in this godforsaken city that also occasionally want to stab Grady?”

“He’ll come after the two of you if he makes it out of Vick’s house alive.”

“So you’re planning on killing all of us?”

“Yep.”

“And how long have I been unconscious?”

“About two and a half hours.” She nods again, adding that to how long it’s been since Grady was injected with the Naloxone. “You know, I don’t believe we’ve been properly introduced. I’m Pearl.” Seph turns her gaze back to him, taking in the blue checkered jacket that wouldn’t look out of place in an Austin Powers flick and the widow’s peak of dark hair slicked back from his face.

“Cleopatra, nice to meet ya.” She wiggles in the chair, missing the press of metal against the small of her back. “Took my scalpel?” Pearl nods, looking entirely too smug for a Malfoy lookalike. She presses her right ankle tighter against the leg of the chair, frowning when she realizes that knife is gone too. “Fuck, your guys are thorough.”

“One of their best qualities.” She presses her arm down next, biting back a smile when she realizes her third scalpel was still hidden up her sleeve. If she could just get it in her palm, then she could cut through the ropes and shove it down Pearl’s throat. “While we’re on the subject of my employees, how would you feel about joining my ranks? You’d be able to afford a better apartment and it comes with a lot of perks.”

“I think I’d rather die, but thanks.” He shrugs, unoffended as something catches his eye behind Seph.

“If you’ll excuse me, Miss Bay, I need to go check on something.”

“By all means, I wouldn’t want this murder to go any way except smoothly.” He strides out of the room and she starts pushing and pulling against the ropes, feeling the cold metal beginning to slide upwards. The Grandfather clock out in the hall strikes four in the morning just as she gets ahold of the scalpel, doing her best to cut through the ropes in the awkward position.

“Seph.” The hissed voice has her head snapping up, spotting Grady as he comes to stand next to her chair. “Jesus, you look awful.”

“Grady, you need to get out,” she hisses up at him. “I can handle this, just leave!” It’s two loud cracks of gunfire that sets everything into a blur of motion; Zeke goes limp in the chair, Grady’s weapon is knocked to the floor, the goon squad bind his hands behind his back and loop a garrote around his throat. Seph gets a hand free, but the older goon slams her wrist back down and breaks her pointer finger so he could tear the scalpel out of her hand.

“Careful, Grady, that wire is fully capable of taking your pretty head clean off,” Pearl states as he waltzes back into the room. He’s speaking in an American accent now, walking with help from a wooden cane with pearls swirling up to the top. “The dramatic entrance is appreciated, though. I’ve always been a fan of them.” A spark of recognition lights up Grady’s eyes, forcing himself to relax against the wire.

“You did all of this to avenge your boss,” Grady asks, looking skeptical.

“Something like that, yes. Seph, darling, would you like to give him his answer?” She grits her teeth against the discomfort, trying her best to control her breathing so the sharp, lancing pain radiating up her wrist wouldn’t trigger an asthma attack. He switches back to his natural accent, a bit cockney like a character from Being Human. “I am Pearl, you degenerate.”

“That’s not possible, we had photos of Pearl conducting business.”

“If you look carefully at those photos, you’ll notice I was always there to make sure things went right.” He sidles up to Grady, stopping right in front of him with a threatening smile. “That’s what really pisses me off about this whole thing. “You got closer to me than anyone ever has in all my years of leading criminals, and yet you’re too fucking stupid to realize a decoy when one is literally standing right in front of you. It’s a bit insulting, really.”

“So you decide the only way to get your revenge is to have my boss think his best men have turned against him, and then you drugged me to make my job that much harder.”

“No, I had you drugged, but I stayed on the sidelines. Like I said before, the dramatics of it all are too entertaining to pass up.”

“Why?”

“Because I want your heart, Grady. I want to eat it right out of your chest while it’s still beating so everyone knows what happens when they send their assassins after me.”

“Holy fuck,” Seph murmurs in realization. “You’re that douchebag that ate his wife, aren’t you?” That seems to take everyone by surprise, all eyes landing on the blonde as she cradles her hand carefully against her chest. “Dude, you’re nasty.”

“Yes, yes, I’ve heard it all before from various shrinks I’ve interrogated over the years. Save it for a psychopath that actually gives a fuck about their own mental wellbeing.” He heaves out a loud sigh, using the end of his cane to tip her head back and bare her throat. “I think I’ll take my time with you, flay you open so you can see exactly what makes yourself tick. Persephone Bay, an unexceptional young lady, found dead on the beach with her tongue carved out of her skull.”

“Go ahead, but I’m haunting your ass.”

“She’d make an awful housemate,” Grady adds. “She’s basically a cat now, but can you imagine how much worse she’ll be as a ghost? Knocking things off shelves, leaving cabinets open so you whack your face off them in the middle of the night when you want a glass of water, and let’s not forget the bloody messages painted on your walls depicting different ways she learned to kill people over the years.”

“Yeah, and it’ll just get worse when you can’t chase me out of your house with a shotgun.”

“Just an awful person. You never realize just how close to being a full-blown sociopath she is until you rearrange her movie collection on the same day that her Adderall dose is raised.”

“All his neighbors thought I was some kind of demon that was obsessed with HGTV.” Grady nods as well as he can without cutting himself on the wire, Pearl looking between the two of them with something like disbelief. The truth is, Seph isn’t really afraid of what comes after death. She probably should be if Hell is an actual thing rather than a theological concept, but she’s comfortable enough in her own abilities that she can raise an angry mob and force Satan off the throne.

“You two are so fucking annoying,” Pearl grumbles after they fall silent again. “The only thing that could make this worse is if this one starts singing again.” He gestures at Grady as he speaks, cracking him in the mouth when the hit man tries to start up a new rendition of Hello My Baby. “Before we take things any further, I feel like I should bring in the person that helped me figure out how to lure the pair of you out of your caves.”

“If it’s just Vick in drag, tell him to save it. Seeing that once was bad enough, but a second time will end in a gruesome murder and eye-plucking.”

“Alexandra, come say hello to our guests.” Zan walks into the room, looking beautiful in a red satin dress and a pink bow that kept her hair out of her eyes. “What’s the matter? Neither of you actually realized your hostage worked for me? Sure, in all fairness, you were never meant to steal her away and use her as your personal backup physician. I don’t appreciate you sending her back looking like…. What’s an elegant word for shit, lads?”

“Excrement?”

“Seriously,” Zan frowns, turning her gaze to the blonde still tied to the chair.

“Don’t even get defensive, you two-faced cow. You drugged me and made me look at Nomack in a fucking speedo! I’ll never get that image out of my mind now!” Grady makes a noise of offense and she rolls her eyes. “You also toyed with my friend’s emotions and that’s not a great thing since he usually has to be fall-down drunk before confessing his favorite color, let alone anything else. All that toxic masculinity has really built up over the years.”

“I should have shot her in the face when I had the chance,” Grady says, voice steady as his gaze flicks between the two women. “Seven or eight hollow points to the forehead.”

“So romantic,” Pearl teases. “I can see why it was so easy for sweet Zan to play along. She’s a good little actress, isn’t she? And as a reward for that, I’ve got Riggs bringing Hayley over for you to see.” He addresses the later to Zan, pressing a kiss to her forehead before pulling back.

“I’ll just put this one with the others,” the younger goon says, wheeling Zeke’s body out of the study. While that’s happening, Grady meets Seph’s gaze again and nods pointedly at the ropes binding her left wrist and then the scalpel on the edge of the desk just half a foot away from her. She dips her head in a subtle nod to show she understood, biting her tongue to district from the pain in her broken finger as she starts on the knot.

“Congratulations, Pearl,” Grady states, keeping the attention on him. “You’ve torn down Ezekiel and his gang, you control the city now.”

“Don’t prove to everyone that you’re just another pretty face without an ounce of brains,” Pearl sneers. “I did all of this to get you here and watch you suffer, not to bring down Ezekiel. I wanted to know what would happen if I took away the one thing you had, the ability to feel nothing. I wanted to watch you writhe like a fish left on the shore to die.”

“That’s a very vivid picture. Have you ever thought of writing books for children? Nemo’s Daddy Gets Eaten and Other Morbid Tales by Pearl… I’m sorry, I have no idea what your last name is.”

“Let’s see if you can keep that sense of humor when I let my boys go a second round with you. They’ve been antsy about it all night.” The two goons from earlier take up Pearl’s spot in front of Grady, all cocky bravado and too much testosterone.

“Look at you two! Still alive and still got your thumbs!”

“How ya feeling, Grady,” the big one asks with a pleasant smile. Seph’s eyes flick down to check her progress, not realizing until now how much more difficult a broken finger can make things. The ropes were getting loose, sure, but it’s slow going. “Yo, Doc, how about you juice him for us, so we can get started?”

Zan moves to stand in front of Grady next, pulling a syringe out of her cleavage—and yeah, maybe Seph was guilty of staring a little longer than necessary—pulling off the plastic cap with her teeth and angling Grady’s head to the side. The drug is clear like it’s supposed to be, but the dosage is lacking, not enough to really jumpstart his nervous system like earlier. It’s more like the right dose for…. Oh.

Seph makes a mental note to buy Zan a big bottle of booze if they survive this.

Zan steps back as it begins to take effect, the big guy delivering a hard punch to Grady’s stomach that had him doubling over with a grunt. The bald guy that was handling the garrote steps away as the next punch lands on Grady’s cheek, bringing him to his knees. Seph works faster despite her clumsy fingers as the big guy starts up the taunting again.

“Sing another annoying showtune,” he screams at one point when red splotches are forming over Grady’s face and the exposed part of his chest. “Let me hear you!”

“I can’t do this all on my own,” Seph sings loudly, out of tune and shaky as she finally gets her arm free. “No, I know I’m no superman!” She jumps up onto the big guy’s back in the same instant that Grady breaks through the zip-ties binding his wrists, bringing his leg out to get Baldy on the ground.

Seph wraps her arms tightly around the bigger guy’s neck, squeezing and holding on tight until she feels one of the cervical vertebrae snap like brittle candy and the guy goes down. Seph rolls to her feet and delivers a harsh punch to Bow Tie’s nose that had him falling back into Grady’s hold. Baldy’s already dead on the floor and Bow Tie follows soon after with a cartilage lodged in his brain.

Grady tackles Seph over the desk as bullets begin to ricochet, the pair huddling under the heavy oak with their limbs tangled together like a weird game of Twister. “This day really sucks so far,” Grady complains, moving Seph’s leg until her knee was no longer stuck in his side.

“At least we’re still alive,” Seph grunts out. “Even if I do feel like a contortionist right now.” She had one bare foot flat against the underside of the desktop and the other poking up between Grady’s knees, her left arm cushioning his head against the edge of the desk. “When the hell did I lose my shoes?”

“I saw them in the front hallway by the door.”

“But why would they take them off?”

“How the fuck should I know?” The sound of gunfire goes quiet and they wait until they hear the racket of metal skittering across the floor before untangling themselves. Grady’s the first one out, coming to stand in front of the desk and looking arrogant for all of five seconds before he collapses back to the ground, unconscious.

“I may have overdosed him,” Zan admits after a moment of quiet.

“Should I…?” Seph gestures at her friend, dropping to her knees and crawling over to him. “I’ll just—” She presses her fingers over his pulse, counting out the beats until she was satisfied that he wasn’t in any real danger. “His pulse is a little fast, but that’s a common side effect from the drug.”

“But he passed out,” Pearl says, yanking Seph out of the way so he can kneel over Grady’s lax body with a wickedly long knife.

“Yeah, he’s a lightweight,” Zan explains. “I’m pretty sure he’s never been injected with Epinephrine before.” She brings out her own pistol, aiming it at Pearl’s head with the hammer cocked back. “How about you do me a favor and get off of him.”

“Well, isn’t this a plot twist?”

“It’s really not. You would have seen it coming if you’d remove your head from your ass every now and then to come up for air.” Pearl hobbles his way over to a chair and falls down into it, popping a pain pill as he relaxes into the leather. “Drop the knife, asshole.” He lets it fall to the ground without a fuss, which only makes Seph wonder what other type of weapon he has stored nearby.

“What do you have planned, Alexandra? Are the three of you going to ride off into the sunrise after you’ve killed the big bad wolf?”

“Careful, Pearl, the big bad wolf was gutted and turned into a coat in some of those stories.” He grins, not noticing the way that Seph moved back over to the desk and palmed the scalpel that Bow Tie had thrown there earlier. “My plan is actually pretty simple—I’m taking my niece and leaving this fucking city.”

“Really? This is about Hayley?”

“You don’t get to say her name.”

“I gave it to her!” He takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly before staring up at Zan again, fingers clutching and loosening on his cane rhythmically. “And how are you going to explain to Hayley that she can’t have anymore piggyback rides or homemade ice cream because Auntie Zan shot Daddy in the face? Do you really think she’ll love you after she learns that? Drop that firearm and I’ll let you have a five second head start.”

“I don’t see you chasing me far with that bum knee.”

“Maybe, but you’re no killer.” She stands firm, but she doesn’t hold up when Pearl’s cane collides with the delicate bones of her knuckles, knocking the pistol out of her hands. She sprints to the other side of the room as Pearl advances, Seph attempting to stop him only to have the end of his cane hit the side of her face and knock her backwards.

“Seph, go!”

“I’m a real killer, Zan.” He grabs up the knife he’d dropped earlier, letting it rest against the wide leather belt around Zan’s waist. “It’s like an old shoe that fits perfectly.” Pearl stays focused on the other woman, never noticing the way Grady jolted back into consciousness after Seph slams a closed fist over his chest. They scramble quietly over to the other two, Grady’s hand taking the blunt of the damage when Pearl thrusts the knife forward, barely nicking Zan’s belly while the blade drives right through Grady’s palm.

“Seriously,” Seph complains as she stands. “It took me two months to get you healed from the last hole in your hand.”

“See what you did,” Grady accuses Pearl. “She’s not going to let this go. My future grandchildren will hear about this forty years from now.” He holds up his hand for the women to see, shaking his head. “Well, that’s just nasty. I think I’d puke if I could actually feel this one.” He lands a solid punch that knocks Pearl to the floor in retaliation, careful not to dislodge the knife in his left hand.

“Are you going to kill me, gorgeous,” Pearl asks, teeth stained with blood as he smiles.

“Ew, why’d you have to make this weird?” Zan grabs up the cane with a grimace and uses it like a bat, the wood thwacking off of Pearl’s temple hard enough to render him unconscious. “The British ones always make it nasty. It really takes the joy out of what I do.”

“I know,” Seph nods, walking over to him. “It’ll be okay, though.” A car horn sounds outside, spurring Zan into running out of the office to keep her niece from seeing the bloody mess inside the house.

“Can I take this out?”

“No!”

“Then stay in here and keep an eye on Pearl while I take care of Riggs.” She nods, watching him slip out of the room after the front door opens.

“Jesus, I need a drink.”

“Make it a double,” Pearl slurs. He’s staring up at her in a bit of a daze, a trickle of blood soaking into the collar of his jacket. “You and I could share it and then find us a nice bed upstairs after I kill the other two.” She grimaces, driving her scalpel into the meat of his throat and using his pants leg to wipe the blood off her hand.

“I’m surrounded by weirdos.” Grady appears a second later with Riggs in a chokehold, a dull snap echoing through the room a moment later as Riggs collapses to the ground.

“I just told you to keep an eye on him,” Grady says when he spots the bloody mess formerly known as Pearl.

“Now he’s dead, so we don’t have to keep an eye on him.” She rolls her shoulders, wincing at the knots and the feel of blood that’s gone tacky between her fingers. “I’m gonna go wash up and see if these assholes brought my bags in with them.”

“Don’t have too much fun.”

“Unless Zan is a little less straight than she let on, then no fun will be had tonight.”

Seph disappears upstairs, snooping around until she finds what had once been a room meant for Zeke’s mistresses; all elegantly carved wood, silk materials, and a shower with water pressure that was honestly better than sex. She jumps in the shower, washing the blood and grime off until her skin is a warm pink color again, drying quickly before strolling over to the wardrobe in the connected bedroom.

She settles on a peach colored dress that looked like it came straight out of the roarin’ twenties, a beautiful satin with a thin gold chain belted around her waist. She brushes and styles her hair, after disposing of her bloodied clothes, then slides her feet into a pair of white kitten heels and heads back down stairs.

Zan and Grady are coming out of the office as Seph hits the bottom step, both of them pausing to take in the drastic change from a ratty tank top and jeans. “What,” she asks. “It’s not like Zeke’s last mistress was allowed to wear comfortable clothes. I’m just taking advantage of her good taste.”

“You look nice,” Zan tells her with a kind smile. “Doesn’t she, baby?” The little girl hiding behind her nods, looking Seph over with a critical eye. Kids were honest about everything, Seph had found, they’re like tiny alcoholics or something.

“Let’s go to one of those fancy restaurants and get shit-faced.”

“Or we cold make our grand escape before the cops get here and decide we all need to be taken in for questioning.” Seph makes a face, leading the way out into the early morning sunlight. Fresh air is nice after the stuffy air of Zeke’s home, more freedom and a light breeze that ruffles Seph’s loose hair.

“I need a nap that lasts about two days and a pint of Ben and Jerry’s.” They all pause out in the driveway, taking in the four cars parked on the packed gravel. Seph personally liked the Jeep the best, a sleek silver color and just dirty enough that it wouldn’t stand out as much as the corvette.

“Where are you going now that this is done, Seph?” She takes a moment to think over that question, going through the list she always kept of places she’d like to visit. No matter what, though, her mind kept going back to the picture she kept on her nightstand, the one of a brilliant sunset and the silhouette of a woman.

“Someplace warm.”