I normally listen to country music when I write. Switched to P!nk Radio to write this chapter. Wonder does it make a difference. Let me know what you think. Thanks sweetkiwi604 for always leaving me a review. Check out her stuff. It's great. I'm done rambling. Enjoy!

Chapter Eleven: What doesn't kill you

"Good you got the job," Smecker said during my latest report.

"Are you sure Alek traffics women?" I asked.

"This is why I don't like working with women. You all are too damn emotional," he responded.

"Fuck you, he just seems like a nice guy," I replied.

"Serial killers seem like nice guys until they fucking shoot you in the head," Smecker stated, "Just watch yourself with the Russian. He's charming and deadly."

"I will," I replied, "Talk to you soon. I'm off to work." I clicked the phone off and exited the bathroom. I ran right into Murphy.

"Who ya talking to?" he asked.

"Nobody," I stuttered.

"Ya talking to nobody in the bathroom for twenty minutes?" he asked.

"What is this the Spanish inquisition? I was just on the phone," I answered and pushed past him. He caught my arm and stopped me.

"Ya aren't very good at keeping secrets, Katie. Especially from me," he said.

"I'm not in high school anymore, Murphy, it's going to take more than a smoldering look from you to get information," I replied.

"So ya are hiding something," he stated.

"Damn it, please just leave it alone. If I need you to know about I'll tell you," I said harsher than intended.

"Are ye ok?" he asked.

"I'm fine," I answered sharply.

"Ya usually don't yell at me when ya are fine," he said.

"I'm sorry, but really I'm ok," I replied softly, "I didn't mean to bite your head off."

"It's ok, ya can make it up to me later," Murphy gave me a grin. I wanted to melt but didn't have time.

"I promise," I winked, "Wish me luck?"

"Aye," he walked me down the steps, "Ya should have plenty o' luck." He kissed me softly on the lips and opened my cab door.

"You seem to learn everything rather quickly," Alek said as he was going over different pieces.

"I don't like to waste a lot of time," I responded. "The faster I learn the easier it will be for you."

"That is good," he said, "I have a special project I need your help on."

"Already?" I asked, "I mean it's only my first day."

"I like you, Katie," he answered, "I think I can trust you with more responsibility."

"Thank you," I replied, "I'd love to help you with your project."

"Good," he leaned in close, a little too close. I felt his breath on my neck. His cologne filled my nose. It was a pleasant smell. "These are the invoices." He reached across me practically pressed against me to set them in front of me.

"Thank you," I held my breath. I did not want to like this man. He was the enemy. But he smelled so good. I shook my head. What was I thinking? I had not one but two men at home that adored me. And this Russian was a criminal.

"Katie?" I heard Murphy's voice from the entrance behind me. I sighed in relief. Time with Murphy would definitely remind me of why I was doing this.

"Why are you here?" I asked with a smile.

"Came ta see how ya were doing and to take ya to lunch if ya can get away," he answered.

"That would be great," I smiled wider, "Would it be ok?"

"I suppose if you are back in an hour," Alek answered. "Who is this?"

"This is my uh…Murphy," I responded and looked at Murphy, "This is Aleksandr Uvarov."

"Enjoy your lunch, Katie," Alek said as we walked out the door.

"I'm sorry," I said taking his hand, "I'm really not sure what we call what we are. Boyfriend didn't sound right in my head."

"It's ok, where do ya want to go?" he asked.

"There's a diner around the corner," I responded. We took a seat at the outside tables. I really wanted to smoke. Murphy handed me a lit cigarette.

"Ya sure you're ok?" Murphy asked me with a worried look.

"Do I look off or something?" I responded.

"Ya just changing and it's hard ta keep up with ya," he sighed.

"I don't mean to, I'm sorry," I said. "I'm just trying to do something important."

"Ya don't have to keep apologizing to me," he said. "Just have ta get used to it."

"You know I love you, right?" I asked.

"Aye, just got used ta sharing ya with Conn," he said, "Don't know if I'm ready ta share ya with the rest of the world."

"You can't keep me locked away just waiting for you," I replied.

"I know," he sighed, "I jus' hope ya haven't decided ya don't want to be with us anymore. We've put ya through a lot since ya came back."

"I know who you are and I love you more because of it," I said, "I'm where I want to be." I laced my fingers in his. He squeezed my hand tightly.

"I wonder when we'll be called again," he said. "I kind of miss it."

"I know you do," I replied, "It's hard sometimes sitting on the sidelines."

"How do ya do it?" he asked.

"Just wait the Saints will be needed again soon," I smiled, "Until then let's just enjoy the quiet."

"It's too quiet," he said.

"I like the quiet," I smiled, "I've got to get back."

"Aye," he stood up and we walked quietly back to the gallery, "Katie, what e'er it is that's goin' on wit' ya, ya can tell me."

"I know, when there's something to tell," I smiled, "I'll tell you, ok?"

"Ya think I can kiss ye?" he asked.

"Always," I responded. He pressed his lips on mine. It was a soft sweet kiss. It didn't expect more but it left me wanting more.

"I love ye," he said as he released me then walked down the street.

"Can you stay late and work?" Alek asked me.

"Of course," I answered, "What do you need me to do?"

"There's a new artist's show coming up and I need your help organizing," he stated. "We need to through the party of the century to get his name out. Can you get the forms off my desk?" I took that as my chance to snoop around his office.

"Ok," I said and walked into his office. I looked at the papers scattered all over his desk. I found the forms he was referring right away. I still thumbed through his drawers searching for something, anything that would help Smecker find those missing girls. I found the address of a warehouse near the docks. I jotted it down on a post it and tucked it in my pocket as I heard him enter.

"Did you find them?" he asked.

"These?" I showed him the forms.

"That's it," he said walking closer to me. "You think we can have this together by this weekend?"

"I think that is very doable," I answered, "What kinds of things is this artist interested in?"

"He likes women and vodka," he said inching closer to me. "I've got both of those covered."

"So he's Russian too?" I smiled backing away from him.

"Those are stereotypes," he chuckled, "That just happen to be true. You can go home if you're ready."

"Ok thank you," I said.

I knew I wouldn't be able to sleep until I figured out what was at that warehouse. I hailed a cab and gave him the address.

"You sure that's where you wanna go, miss?" the cabbie asked.

"I'm sure," I responded. I wasn't so sure when I climbed out of the cab. I was glad to have the security of my gun hidden under my arm. I inched my way past the homeless sleeping on the bench. I looked at the note then at the building. This was the right warehouse. I opened the door it wasn't locked. Inside was what looked like chains along the walls. It reeked of feces and urine. This is where he kept the women locked up. I made my way farther into the storage unit. I came upon another door. I could hear sobbing from the other side. I heard another voice yelling in Russian.

I pulled my gun out of its holster and opened the door. I found three badly beaten women and one giant Russian. I pointed my gun at his head.

"What do you want, bitch!" he shouted at me.

"Let them go," I yelled back. I cocked my gun and aimed it for his head.

"I don' do nothing a stupid woman tells me," he raised his hand to hit me. I fired. Hitting him between the eyes. The Russian landed on the floor with a thud.

"Go! Get out of here," I yelled at the women. They took off. I drug this Russian into the middle of the storage room. I laid him out on the ground, arms crossed over his chest, a penny on each of his eyes. I crossed myself and prayed for God to forgive him in the next life.

….

I made my way up the steps to our apartment. I wiped the sweat from my brow before I opened the door. When I entered, Connor and Murphy were sitting on the couch. Noah was in the armchair. I had three pairs of eyes staring at me.

"Working late?" Connor snapped at me.

"Yes," I said nervously.

"Really?" Murphy exclaimed.

"Yes…" I stuttered.

"Come sit down, Katie, watch this with us," Connor stated. I slowly walked to the couch and looked at the TV. They were watching the news. I was caught. It was one of the women that I saved from the warehouse.

"She came in like a guardian angel," the woman said. "And rescued us."

"The body was laid out with pennies on his eyes," the reporter said, "The police are saying it's another copy cat. But could the Saints have come to New York?"

Connor glared at me after he flipped the set off. "¿Qué diablos estabas pensando?"

"I was thinking that you two can't do it all by yourselves," I shouted back.

"Avresti potuto farti ammazzare!" Murphy yelled at me.

"Vous avez peur de la merde hors de nous," Connor shouted.

"If you boys are going to yell at me at least do it in English," I said.

"That was fuckin' stupid, Katie!" Connor exclaimed.

"Tell me you wouldn't have done the same damn thing!" I said, "I found those girls in a warehouse full of shit and piss. Was I supposed to leave them there? Let that asshole beat the shit out of them?"

"What about that Italian, LaRosso at the New Yorker?" Murphy asked.

"What about him?" I said, "He was a creep that worked with Papa Joe. He deserved what he fucking got."

"Why didn't you tell us?" Connor asked. "This is what we do."

"I know, I did it so you didn't have to," I responded. "I can do this just as well as you can."

"Was tha' what all ya secret phone calls were about?" Murphy asked.

"Yes," I said. I felt my eyes water. I took a deep breath to stop the tears.

"I can' believe ya lied ta me," Murphy looked at me defeated.

"If I told you," I said, "You would have stopped me. I still have a job to do."

"Who sent you?" Connor asked.

"Smecker," I answered.

"What's the job?" he asked.

"Aleksandr Uvarov," I answered.

"Your boss?" Murphy asked.

"He traffics women into the states," I responded.

"Why did ya have to go to work for him?" Connor asked.

"I need to find the girls before I take him out," I replied. "That's why Smecker wanted me to do this job. I have a little more finesse when it comes to getting information out of people."

"Ya can't go back there," Murphy said.

"I have to," I stated, "If I don't he'll know it was me. There are more missing girls. I have to save them."

"Aye, Katie," Connor replied, "But ya aren't doing it alone. Not anymore."

"I'm not letting you push me to the sidelines either. If you want to help, you'll do it my way," I said.

They looked at each other, having a silent conversation. "Ok," they responded in unison.

¿Qué diablos estabas pensando? Spanish for What the fuck were you thinking?

Avresti potuto farti ammazzare! Italian for You could have gotten yourself killed.

Vous avez peur de la merde hors de nous French for You scared the shit out of us.