Chapter 7

I woke up the next morning to the sounds of Michael grunting in exertion downstairs. I sat up on the couch, leaned over the metal banister and peeked down to find Michael doing push ups on the bare floor, the thin sheen of sweat covering his shoulders.

I stood up, stretching and rubbing my eyes. I began to straighten out my shirt, but then remembered Michaels request last night about looking "messed up". I rolled my eyes and headed downstairs.

"Morning," I said walking across the room and going to sit on one of the bar stools. Michael finished his rep and stood up, breathing raggedly.

"You do that everyday?" I asked.

He nodded, walking over to the workbench under the window and grabbing a towel to wipe his forehead. He obviously kept his body in pretty good condition. As he stood before me in a pair of gym shorts and sleeveless shirt, I could see the definition of his arms and the strong, tight chest beneath his shirt. Michael was never a big guy, more tall and slender. Looking at him now I would be willing to bet there wasn't an inch of fat anywhere on his body. He seemed to be all hard, lean muscle.

"You want some breakfast?" he offered, walking around into the kitchen "I've got yogurt."

"Uh no, I'm ok. I'm not much of a breakfast person,"

Mike shrugged and grabbed a yogurt from the fridge, a spoon from a drawer and dug into his breakfast.

"So when does this plan of yours get rolling?" I asked.

"This afternoon" he said, swallowing a large bite of blueberry. "Sam and I are meeting Omar to talk details,"

"And me?"

"You're coming along. Omar's gonna meet the inside man."

I nodded, trying to imagine in my mind how this whole situation would play out. I wanted to believe Mike when he said everything would work out and that I would be fine, but I was nervous. I generally try to avoid the hard-core criminal types. I don't want to have any reason to hang around with them since friendships with those guys seemed to be very brief.

Coming back to myself, I looked up to see Michael staring at me.

"You're gonna be ok." He said simply.

I nodded again, taking a breath and pushing back my worry. Like Sam said, I was apart of this now, I'd just have to man up and deal with it.

"Ok, so how's it gonna go down?" I asked.

Michael finished his yogurt and tossed the empty container into the trash.

"You, me and Sam will meet Omar and his boys this afternoon. I'll talk to Omar, let him know that you are actually working for his boss Ramirez, and that you were sent down to check up on him."

I nodded following along. It all sounded good so far.

"Hopefully Omar goes along with it all and he sees the opportunity to make a deal with me. We'll have access to the drug house and Omar's business plans. Then it's just a matter of calling the DEA to come clean up the mess,"

"Oh, that sounds pretty good. How are you going to make sure Omar does what you want?" I asked, intrigued by Mike's plan.

"I can be pretty persuasive." He said

"So…. you are really doing all this just for a friend?" I asked as Michael walked over and began straightening up the stack of papers next to his bed.

"Yes."

"No way." I said shaking my head. "This is way too much, way to dangerous to do for just a 'friend', I bet you don't even know this Clint guy that well,"

Michael didn't say anything, just continued to stack documents.

"Come on, Mike. You said you weren't dealing, are you taking a cut of Omar's business? Knocking out the competition? What is it? No one takes on this much danger for a 'friend'"

Michael turned to look at me and then looked away.

"It's a job, Clint's paying us."

"Oh!" I said, now it all made sense. I'd heard of ex-military types doing bodyguard work, so that made me feel better. I was really glad to know Mike wasn't involved in the seedy underworld of Miami.

"How much?" I asked, curious.

"That's not important." Mike said taking his stack of documents over to the workbench near the front door.

"Umm it kinda is. Fiona said those guys could have killed you. Hell, they wanted to kill me. How much are you doing this for? And hey... I'm helping your friend too you know. "

Michael paused at the workbench and turned to look at me, incredulously.

"You put yourself in this situation. You weren't supposed to be involved " he said eyeing me.

"Ok, ok. Yes. But I'm having to take time off work here, couldn't I get a little compensation?"

"Liz."

"Michael."

We were both silent for a moment, staring at each other.

"We'll see how it goes." Mike said yielding.

"Fine with me." I said smugly. "You know, this is a lot of work for a paycheck. Why not just get a real job?"

"I don't want to talk about this Lizzie," Michael said turning away from me again.

Oh here we go again, I thought. More secrets.

"Come on, Mike. You're risking you life here." I asked, watching him as he paced around the room, moving papers and picking up items distractedly.

"We're not getting into that right now Liz." He said firmly.

I was kind of enjoying seeing him get riled up. He wasn't angry, just annoyed. It was fun irritating him.

"Well, Mike if its resume problems I can help you there. I'm really good at that kinda stuff, in fact….

"Liz! Drop it." Mike exclaimed suddenly, dropping a handful of papers on the workbench.

I bit my lip in attempt to keep from grinning outright. I was determined to eventually find out more about my brother, even if I had to irritate him to death to do it.

"We need to talk about today," he said.

Just then, the front door was flung open and Fiona came prancing in. She wore short capris and plain tank top, but four inch stacked platforms. How she was able to walk in those things I'll never know. I love a good pair of heels, but my everyday wear is flats no question.

She walked over to me silently and stood directly in front of me at arms length. I was puzzled and a little hesitant as to what she might be after. She reached into her bag, which was draped around her waist and pulled out something. I leaned back out of instinct before I saw what it was.

A toothbrush. A peace offering.

She smiled at me and I smiled back, grabbing the toothbrush. Thank God. I looked over at Michael who nodded his head toward the back of the room, indicating a bathroom. I slipped off the barstool and made my way back to the bathroom, happy that I would at least be able to feel a little fresh today and happy that Fiona wasn't furious with me anymore.

When I returned from brushing my teeth, I found both Michael and Fiona both standing in the kitchen area. I walked over, setting my toothbrush down on the counter.

"Thanks." I said earnestly to Fiona.

She gave me a soft smile in return.

"Lizzie, we need to talk about the meeting today," Michael said.

"I'm ready for it Mike, I can do it."

"I know you can Liz." He said, "But it's not just that…"

I looked at Michael curiously. His tone of voice was different; he was no longer big brother being bothered by little sister, talking about work and breakfast. Something had changed. He was cold, distant - official. He stood, holding the same statuesque posture he held in Ma's dining room when I first saw him. I was instantly back on my guard. I stood straighter, adjusting my posture to mirror his, putting aside my own casualness.

"What?" I asked.

"Omar knows that we took you as a hostage." He began "He's not going to believe that you just told us that you were working for Empresa. We have to make it look like we forced you to tell us,"

"Like you interrogated me?" I asked.

"Yes," Mike said, walking around the corner of the counter towards me. I took half a step back away from him in response.

"What do you mean by that?" I asked suspiciously.

From behind Michael, Fiona piped up "You have to get roughed up." She said plainly.

I looked at Michael cautiously. He stood very still in front of me about two feet away. I angled myself further away from him.

"Like with make-up right?"

Michael shook his head.

"You're joking." I said, taking another step back.

"Make-up won't stand up to close inspection Liz. I wish there was another way, but there isn't."

I could feel my pulse start to race. He was gonna hit me.

"Lizzie, calm down." Michael said, picking up on my tension.

I didn't move, just stood staring at him.

"I'm calm." I lied, trying to get control over adrenaline that had begun to race through my body. "I just don't want you to hit me."

"We have to make it look real," Fiona said, "Omar is tough, and so is everyone else in la Empresa. Information isn't free, if you were really working for them we'd have to beat it out of you,"

I swallowed nervously, 'beat it out of me'? What was I doing here? What were they thinking? I glanced a Michael, who had not moved at all, still standing like a stone in front of me, his face void of any emotion.

Fiona continued on "You got yourself into this Liz. You can take a few hits and help us and Clint out or you can run and we'll try to cover everything but trust me, it's easier this way,"

She was right. I had gotten myself into this mess, and complicated things for Michael and his friends. I probably deserved a beating for that alone. I knew dad would have obliged me one.

"It won't be that bad," Fiona added lightly.

I scoffed. "Beating it out of me? " I asked, "yeah it doesn't sound that bad."

"We aren't going to beat it out of you," she said coming to stand next to Michael, "Jeez, it would only be bruised cheek, and bump on your forehead,"

I again looked at Michael for reassurance. He gave me a small nod. Although he still work the mask of cold distance, I could see in his eyes a deeper inner turmoil.

I thought it over briefly, but really two hits? That was nothing. Fiona was right, not really a big deal. Sure it would hurt, but not for long and it would be one of the lesser beatings I'd ever taken in my life.

I took a deep breath and sighed. "Yeah ok. "

I shook my head, not even believing that I just agreed to letting my brother smack me around. I eyed his fist, wondering just how much it was going to hurt when he creamed me. I dreaded that sharp right hook of his.

Suddenly he turned away, walking back around the counter and into the kitchen.

"Where you going?" I asked confused.

"Fi?" he said, his voice still emotionless.

Fiona stepped forward, positioning herself directly in front of me. Fiona was small; maybe 5'4 barefoot, but her stacked heels brought her right up to my level. I eyed her warily. She might be small, but I remembered her quick strength from our first meeting in the park, this girl was tough.

"Alright, let's get this over with huh?" I said, glancing down a Fi's hand.

I watched as she shook out her hand and then made a fist. She looked at me expectantly. I gave a quick nod and instantly felt her fist connect with my cheekbone. The force snapped my head around but didn't cause me to stumble. It was a solid hit, heavy with her strength behind it. I closed my eyes, letting myself absorb the pain, feeling it begin to radiate from the area. I touched my hand to my cheek gently, opening my eyes to look at Fiona. She stood calmly in front of me.

I took deep breath and gave her another quick nod. This time the blow was not instantaneous, but carried more heft. Her small fist hit me hard just above my eye, her sharp knuckles cracking the skin. I stumbled back away from her upon impact, bending over to catch my breath. That one hurt.

Blinking hard to clear my head and manage the pain, I stood up slowly and looked back at her. Fiona was again, calmly standing before me, awaiting my response.

"Yeah. Ok." I said, shaking my head again. The left side of my face was throbbing in time with my pulse. I was going to have some very nice bruises to show off to Omar this afternoon.

I glanced over to the kitchen to look at Michael, but didn't see him. As I looked around the room I noticed him leaning against one of the open balcony doors, his back to Fiona and me. Guess he didn't want to watch that whole scene.

"Mike?" I called out.

He turned around at my call and strode over to me. Fiona had backed off, going into the kitchen and pulling out a yogurt from the fridge.

Michael came and stood in front of me, surveying the damage Fiona had caused. He lightly touched my chin, turning my head into the light.

"You ok?"

"Yeah. I'm fine," I said lightly. Trying to break the tension and reassure Mike. I could see that his practiced face of impassivity was wavering and it made me uncomfortable. "Really, I'm fine. I've had way worse."

At those words, Michael seemed to internally flinch and dropped his hand from my face and turned away.

"She's fine, Michael!" Fiona called. "I wouldn't really hurt her."

Michael walked over to his workbench and opened one of the drawers pulling out a bottle of aspirin and tossing the bottle to me

"I am fine," I said again. "Really."

Fiona handed me a glass of water and I swallowed the pills, happy to have them. I really was fine, but damn it still hurt.

"Will you be ready for Omar?" Michael asked.

"Of course." I said, feeling confident. I'd forgot how much taking a punch could light a fire in me. It made me right for getting even, for proving something. If I could take punch, I could take anything that was thrown at me. Bring it on Omar, I thought.

"You have to sell it," Michael said,

"Oh please!" I said, relaxing onto one of the barstools. "I'm a Westen- just like you- they don't make better liars,"

Michael smiled at me then and I grinned back at him, causing the newly formed bruise on my cheek to throb.