Author's Note: I apologize for the long-than-expected hiatus. Writer's block hasn't been too kind to me until earlier this week. Also, after re-reading the already posted chapters and being absolutely horrified by the number of errors and inconsistencies that I could've sworn I had eradicated, I decide to revise the story (and rewrote the last half). Thank you so much for bearing with me, and I wish you all and your families well during this pandemic.

Enjoy!


Chapter Thirty-One


"You know, we should be heading to work right now."

Leah didn't want to think about work.

Not now. Not while she sat on along the lakeshore, legs folded into a pretzel with Jacob laying down next to her. Thankfully, they had a couple of sheets in the trunk of the car, and therefore didn't have to worry about their work clothes being inundated with sand as they watched the calm waves of Lake Michigan.

It was a perfect morning for an impromptu stop at the lake. Not too hot, not too humid. The time meant that the usual rush of crowds wouldn't appear for another thirty minutes. There were only a couple of people in the vicinity, one walking long in one-inch water while the other ran past them.

She smiled down at Jacob before returning attention to the sight of the rising sun, introducing Chicago to dawn was beautiful, with the changing colors of the sky, the mist rising from the calm Lake Michigan water and chirping birds. Leah breathed in the air, stretching out her arms. "We have time," she insisted.

She wished she had taken the day off.

The thought of staying here all day, on a Northside beach, eating away, laying for a nap, maybe work on a tan, take a dip in the water... that sounded so nice. So needed.

"Five more minutes."

"Oh, come on, Black, you're not enjoying the view?"

"That's the problem," Jacob mumbled, rolling his shoulders. He was relaxed, perhaps a little too relaxed. "Ten more minutes, and I'll be knocked out cold before receiving an angry, profanity-filled call from our captain."

Leah chuckled softly; oh, she could imagine her captain, pacing back and forth inside his office, screaming into the phone while making sure that every other word was "fuck". For someone who often teased about Jacob for being dramatic (and a worrier), Paul was no better. "You can just blame me," she offered with a wink.

Jacob snorted. "Yeah, something tells me that won't fly." He slowly sat up, leaning back on his elbows. His attention was on the horizon, where the blue water met the sky. He deeply breathed in. "Nature is an amazing thing, isn't it?"

Leah unraveled her legs, shook them a couple of times on the sheet. She folded and wrapped her arms around them, leaning her chin onto her knees. "I love the water."

"There are beaches in L.A."

Leah smiled at the thought. She was looking forward to the trip, even brought the plane tickets before she talked herself out of it. "Yeah, but I heard the Pacific is freezing, even on the hottest day."

"A little dip won't hurt—Fall, isn't it?"

"Paul will shoot us with a load of silver if we dare go before then."

Jacob let out a hearty laugh. "You got a point."


"I just wanna say that I don't appreciate you guys underestimating my abilities," Embry declared, leaning back in his chair, almost to the point of falling over. Which would've been hilarious, and Leah would've expressed as such, after making sure the man's okay. She wasn't a monster. Sadly, Embry caught himself hitting the ground. "Name checks are below me."

"Not until you officially become detective," Jacob taunted, tapping the top of the younger man's head before taking a sip of his coffee. He glanced at Jared, who was sitting across from Embry, looking just as enthused in his work. "How're you doing, young padawan?"

Jared gave Jacob a dirty look, earning a laugh from Leah, "This is seniority-based discrimination," he said, dramatic. "Just because Embry and I aren't detectives doesn't mean you subject us to work slated for unseasoned rookies."

That earned a high-five from Embry.

Leah gave both officers an unimpressed look. Embry and Jared had seen more active and done more detective work in one year then they did in their former squads combined. "Here we go…"

Jacob was just as sympathetic as his partner, "You act like you're on garbage duty. Stop complaining and get to cracking on those names," he ordered, slapping the desk a couple of times. "We need anyone linked to Maria, who can be a hitman."

Embry rolled his eyes. "We're talking about a cartel," he pointed out. "Anyone can be a hitman."

"He has a point," Jared remarked. "Hey, maybe Jasper decided he wanted to re-live up to his Sicario nickname by working for Maria again?"

Honestly… given how crazy this investigation had been, Leah wouldn't be surprised.

"He's in prison," Embry reminded the younger cop. "Kinda hard to personally off someone on the outside from prison."

"Hey, stranger things have happened!"

"Just do your job," Jacob implored as he walked away with Leah by his side. "The man who signs off on our paychecks wants an answer by the end of the day."

Embry and Jared leaned back in their chairs and groaned loudly.


"Okay, one half of Team Wire, did you get anything?"

A look of frustration instantly washed over Aisha's face. It appeared that she and Embry hadn't gotten much information during the past couple of days. "Not really…"

Paul was disappointed by the news, but like everyone else, not surprised. "Did you at least find out why Garrett was working with the Fangs?"

Aisha shook her head. "No one talked about that," she admitted. "However, did you know that Garrett was messing around with Kate? Apparently, they were mates."

Leah and Jacob locked eyes for a split second.

"That's serious," Martinez said, stating the obvious. "Very serious."

"No shit," Paul said. He ran a hand down his face. "Is Kate of the Denali doing anything about her murdered boyfriend?"

"Mate," Leah corrected.

Paul rolled his eyes. "Mate."

"She's engaged in Operation Damage Control with Carmen," Aisha said, answering the captain's question. "Tanya's five seconds away from raising Hell..."

That was nothing new.

Leah sighed.

"So is Collin," Jacob remarked.

"Why the wait?" Martinez wondered. "It seems like both the Denali's and the Fangs are taking their sweet time launching their revenge tour."

"Maybe they are just as much in the dark as we are?" Leah suggested with a shrug. "We all knew who was the mastermind, but we have no suspects. At least, anyone we can arrest. Or they can target."

"Speaking of targets, anything on Maria's minions?"

"Call and Cameron are still sifting through names," Martinez told the captain. "We have a couple of hits. Get you something by the end of the day."

"Okay," Paul said, rising from his seat at the edge of a desk. He clapped once, and then a second time, more loudly. "This is what we're going to do: Clearwater and St. Pierre, pay Rosalie Hale a visit. She has to know what's going on with Olympic Coven. Maybe she can provide some insight into their next move."


The original plan was to confront Rosalie during her off-hours. She usually more cooperative when she didn't have to worry about clients questioning why a couple of cops were chilling in her waiting room. But Leah and Aisha didn't have time to wait until later, especially after finding out that Rosalie was flying out to New York the following morning, scheduled to return next week.

They found out that piece of information thanks to an overly-eager intern who most likely wouldn't last long in Rosalie's business. Rosalie liked it when her underlings kept their mouths shut at the right time. But maybe the lawyer would give the young man a little leeway. According to him, he had one semester of law school under his belt and was on the job for a week.

He would learn soon enough, Leah thought as she put away her badge.

After thanking the young man for his assistance, the detectives followed him into the waiting room. The area was empty save for Alice, who was sitting at the far end, deeply engrossed on a phone conversation with a prospective client who was mentioning something about an extortion plot, involving his much younger girlfriend. The expression on her face was a cross between boredom and amusement.

"Good afternoon, Alice," Leah greeted about a minute later, snapping the paralegal's attention to the frank man over the phone. "We're here to see Rosalie Hale."

Alice blinked up at the detectives a couple of times, before smoothly informing the man on the other line that he would need to be put on hold. After placing the phone aside, she sat in her chair, cleared her throat, and asked with a tight smile, "Afternoon… Do you have an appointment?"

Aisha smirked. "Do we ever?"

"Who let you…?"

"Your very nice intern," Leah said, matching Aisha's smirk.

Alice looked behind the detectives, obviously peeved, but then put on her usual megawatt smile when she returned her attention to the detectives. She wasn't nervous, at least more than usual. This wasn't the first time she had been in contact with the Chicago Police Department. She glanced to her right, where Rosalie's office stood in the distance.

"She's currently with a client right now, but after that, she'll be free until standard closing time," she said, checking the time on her phone. "Come back in thirty."

Leah raised an eyebrow, pleasantly surprised. She had fully expected to be turned away, put up a fight and butt heads with the impressively large security guards standing about ten feet behind her, and a couple of feet in front of the intern.

"This seems way too easy," Aisha remarked carefully, eyeing Alice with suspicion. "Your boss doesn't do drop-in's unless she's compelled to."

Leah waited for an answer.

Alice shrugged. "I believe your contribution to Novak's undoing is compelling enough," she said. "Come back in thirty. She'll be ready to see you then."


"Rosalie's hatred for Novak couldn't only be about the money," Aisha remarked as she and Leah walked out of the building. A half of an hour wasn't a long time. They could walk down Dearborn, get a couple of lattes at some café, and walk back. The beautiful weather called for it.

"It was about the disrespect," Leah said, putting on her sunglasses. She walked side-by-side with her friend down the street. "He operated like he ran the damn place."

"When is his sentencing again?"

"Next week. He took the plea. Fifteen in federal prison."

Aisha made a noise in her throat. "We should've gotten the credit for it."

They should've gotten credit for many things, to be honest. But that wasn't how it worked; how it should work. It was about achieving justice, not stroking the agency's egos.

"Rosalie's willing to see us, isn't that credit enough?" Leah asked, not looking for an answer. "Novak was a part of a public corruption conspiracy including a shit ton of crimes that fall under RICO. That's the feds' jurisdiction."

"But when are we going to get something for us?"

"If everything works out, these murders," Leah said. "The feds are focused on the heist. We're focused on the aftermath. Eight bodies aren't nothing."

"We're going to bring the Volturi in?" Aisha asked with a snort. "The feds are all over them."

"Bringing down the Volturi is the target of a joint-initiative. The feds aren't going to be the only ones getting credit," Leah explained. "Plus, whats-her-name says that the cartel carried out the murders. We still can bring them in for ourselves."

Aisha sighed. "I appreciate your optimism, Clearwater."

"Well, someone needs to have it."


"If we had known you'd be so grateful for what happened to Novak, we would've gotten to him a long time ago," was the first time Leah said to Rosalie as she and Aisha were allowed into the lawyer's office. It was a half of an hour later, just like Alice had promised.

"No, you wouldn't. it was my intel that got him in trouble." Rosalie emerged from behind her desk, mouth twisted into her patented smirk. She was neither glad or surprised to be in the presence of the detectives, but she made no efforts to disregard them. Instead, she pointed at a box full of unopened luxury chocolates. "Take some, if you like. It's a gift from a client who isn't privy to my dietary restrictions. I hear the quality is exquisite."

The sight of the sweets made Leah's stomach churned. She didn't forget about her last run-in with chocolate. She glanced at Aisha, who shook her head. "We're good," Leah insisted. "Thanks."

Rosalie shrugged. "Your loss." Sitting at the edge of the desk, she crossed her arms and stared up at the detectives who made no efforts to take a seat. "Well… I know you are not here during your standard business hours because you miss seeing my face. So, what do you want?"

Straight to the point. Leah always liked that about Rosalie. "Tell us about Garrett."

Rosalie lifted her well-manicured eyebrow. She tried to mask her surprise with a look of curiosity, but Leah saw right through the facade. The fixer looked from one detective to the other. "What is this about?"

Aisha was the next to speak. "Oh, come on, Hale, you know damn well what this is about." She was never the one to mince words. "Just because you no longer work for Carlisle Cullen, doesn't mean you're no longer in the know."

Rosalie snorted, defiant as always. "First of all, Detective, I did not work for him. He was not my employer. Second, I haven't seen Garrett in months," and when the detectives' expression turned skeptical, "When I said I was no longer involved in the Olympic business, I meant it."

"Why did you walk away?" Leah asked. She always wondered about that. Rosalie had it good with the Cullens. The family loved her, probably even thought of as an unofficial member of the coven.

"You had a good gig," Aisha added.

Rosalie pursed her lips, unraveled her arms only to cross them again. "Too much drama is bad for business," she said. "Esme is holding on her own, I give her that, but who knows how long that's going to last?" She shrugged. "How long is the Olympic going to keep its head above the tempestuous waters?"

Both detectives nodded.

"Ah, trouble in paradise," Aisha remarked.

Understatement.

"Esme is good at what she does," Rosalie said. "But everyone has their limits, and I'm sure Tanya is testing hers."

Just like Genny said, Leah thought, then, "Why?"

"Why?" Rosalie brought a hand to her chest. "I know you are aware of the power struggle within the Olympic. She's holding on until Edward gets out of Alcatraz and put things in order."

"Which at this rate, won't be able for another twenty years," Aisha said, smug. "Thanks to his ill-advised involvement in Mike's murder. I highly doubt the federal court will be as lenient to the proposed Olympic savior as they were to Jasper."

Because Jasper wasn't seen as much of a threat, Leah concluded. It was an odd thing to consider, especially with Jasper's reputation as an enforcer, but the man had always been known for operating in the shadows. Perhaps, he preferred it that way.

Rosalie cut Aisha a glare. "I have no incentive to tell you both anything else."

Leah sighed. "Rosalie, I know we've worked on opposite sides for years, but I respect you. Always have." Her eyes met the fixer's. "Don't make me arrest you for obstruction."

"I'm sure you know that once you're back in the system," Aisha added, "Jenks is going to finish his crusade and slap even more charges on you. He has it out for you."

Rosalie huffed and finished the rest of her blood. She reached for the jug but snatched her hand back, and then looked at the detectives. "The enemy of my enemy is my friend," she said with a half shrug. "Under other circumstances, the Olympic and the Fangs would have never cooperated, but they have a common enemy: the Volturi."

"They're banding together to take over Volturi's territory," Leah concluded. "And Victoria's."

"James' coven behaved as an extension of the Volturi," Rosalie pointed out. She scoffed and ended up pouring herself another glass of blood. "Garrett had a background in real estate. The Olympic wanted to make a deal involving territory near Midway without angering The Fangs. You do the math."

"What does Tanya want to do?"

Rosalie raised an eyebrow. "Pardon?"

"How is Tanya handling Garrett's death?"

"Just as one would expect."

"Tanya wasn't also Garrett's biggest fan, but he adored Kate, Kate adored him, and Tanya would do anything for her sisters…"

"Including Irina?" Leah challenged.

"Irina's situation was a bit different; don't you agree?" Rosalie replied, raising an eyebrow. Her question was undoubtedly rhetorical. "Tanya can be intense. She passionate about those who are close to her—I don't want to victim blame, but Irina did have it coming."

"What happened?" Aisha asked.

Irina had taken some pictures of her being in a very compromising position with Demetri. Who she was supposed to hate. Who Tanya had absolutely despised. It was all a mess, especially when somehow Tanya had gotten wind of the situation.

Nothing had been confirmed, though. It all was a rumor.

"I thought this conversation was about Garrett?" Rosalie questioned, clearly not in any mood to discuss the Denali drama. "Irina was attracted to the light and burned like a fly. That's all I'm going say on the matter."

Aisha nodded. "Understandable."

"That meeting was supposed to short and, more importantly, a secret," Rosalie carried on in a measured voice, perhaps reserved for a disposition of a court hearing. Her words, her sudden openness threw the detectives on a loop. "There was a party that night to celebrate a birthday. I was invited, but I had matters to attend in California. Didn't know about Garrett's supposed disappearance until I received a frantic call from Kate. They launched a search party, but couldn't find anything. It was as if he had disappeared in thin air."

"Where did they search?" Leah asked, jotting down some more notes.

"Green Lawn. Not far from Midway."

"Who knew about the meeting?" Aisha asked.

"It was discussed during a quarterly commission meeting," Rosalie said. "Meeting of the minds, all allies of the Olympic coven. According to Carmen, though, the details weren't discussed. For safety reasons."

"In your opinion, who tipped off the killers?" Leah asked.

"Tanya wouldn't have done it. After all, the pseudo-alliance was her idea, and she wants to make sure it doesn't fall apart. Anyway, if she wanted Garrett dead, she would've killed him a long time ago," Rosalie explained. "Now, the Cullen's… I just don't see the incentive. The business alliance between the Olympic Coven and the Fans would've been beneficial for all…"

"So, your opinion?" Aisha asked.

"The Volturi would've made the most sense."

"Why do you say that?"

"I'm sure you heard about the plane heist. The Olympic had nothing to do with that, but the Fangs…" Rosalie frowned, shaking her head. "They shouldn't have touched those goods."

Leah and Aisha shared a quick, surprised glance.

"How did you know it was the Fangs?" Aisha asked.

"Because of one its members wouldn't shut up about a big payday," Rosalie said. "We had a meeting with a few real estate developers the week before. I wasn't serving as counsel, but I know some folks would love to be advised on property legal matters. One of the men… he wasn't the leader, kept going on and on about delivering a down payment in cash. Made some off-handed jokes about 'jacking a plane'. Most didn't pay attention to him."

"Jokes about a plane and getting away with it?" Leah snorted. "In this day and age?"

Rosalie shrugged.

"You have a name?" Aisha asked.

"Eric. Eric Stonehill," Rosalie answered with a confident nod. "Called himself the Fangs representative."

Leah drew in a small breath. Eric Stonehill. Collin's cousin. The man who might have masterminded the entire heist, running his mouth. That idiot. After clearing her throat, she asked Rosalie, "You said that Volturi wouldn't have the most sense… Do you have some doubts about their involvement?"

"The Volturi likes to be discreet. Leaving a bunch of bones in an open ditch isn't discreet," Rosalie said, then, "They do have a motive… my guess is that they solicited the hit."

Aisha lifted an eyebrow. "All the way from Moldova?"

"It's easier than you think, Detective. Over three hundred thousand euros worth of gold and such was stolen. In case you didn't know, the euro has more worth than the dollar." Rosalie tilted her head, almost mocking, "Wouldn't you be a bit upset about that?"

With her arms crossed and body against the back of the chair, Leah studied the lawyer for a moment, staring down as if trying to find the missing piece of a puzzle. Or an answer to a most pressing question that had been plaguing her for the past several minutes. Eventually, she decided just to ask herself, "Why are you telling us all of this?" Rosalie was never the one to participate in word-vomiting, especially when it concerned coven matters. "It can't only be about Novak."

Rosalie didn't respond immediately. She reached out for her glass, drained the rest of the contents in one gulp, and pushed it aside before looking at Leah straight in the eye. There was a fire inside them, something Leah hadn't seen from the fixer in years. "The enemy of my enemy is my friend," Rosalie declared, gaze steady. "We want the Volturi out of the picture just as badly, if not more, than you do… Sometimes we have to betray our values for the better good."


"You look well."

Leah quickly downed the rest of her water.

She hadn't expected such a comment, such an observation from the woman sitting across from her.

Leah's mind was flooded with possibilities, focusing on the therapist's meaning behind her words. Did she not look well before? Was she projecting her frustration? Did she wear her heart on her sleeve, despite being told she could be a closed book? Had she really been that bad?

"Has anyone ever mentioned that you tend to think loud thoughts?"

Jacob. Numerous times.

Sue as well, but Leah always considered her mother's opinions as a product of being a mother. She knew her daughter very well, sometimes better than Leah. A scary, humbling thought.

"My comment wasn't inherently negative," Murad assured Leah, adding a small but sincere smile. "The opposite, really. You've definitely progressed."

Leah frowned, staring down at the folded hands on top of her lap. "I didn't know I was that bad."

"I wouldn't say that," Murad insisted, flipping through her prized note pad. She withdrew a pen from her shirt pocket. "How's everything been?"

"Busy."

"What else is new?"

Leah couldn't fight her grin even if she wanted to. She drained the bottle of her ice tea and tossed it into the garbage can next to the small couch she was sitting on. "We got new leads on our case."

"Always exciting."

"And tiring."

Murad nodded. "Is the prognosis good?"

"Trending in a positive direction," Leah said with a shrug, and then amended, "At least, I hope so." She sighed. "You never know with these cases."

"How are your relationships, both personal and professional?"

"It's been shockingly… stable," Leah said, not believing her own words. Not because she thought she was flat out lying, but because she simply couldn't imagine a time when she wasn't plagued by her relationship, both personal and professional, drama. It was odd, a pleasant surprise. She blinked a couple of times. "I mean, nothing's much changed."

"How's Sam?"

The man hadn't crossed her mind all day.

All week, actually.

"Good, I guess."

"And Emily?"

Leah's nose wrinkled at the sound of her cousin's name; she doubted that dreaded feeling would ever go away. "Abel's out of the hospital, recovering at home," she said, forcing a relieved smile. She didn't care about Emily, but her baby cousin deserved happiness. "He'll be one in October."

"And Emily?"

Leah frowned. Nothing went past Murad, a blessing and a curse. "I sure she's glad her son is out of the hospital. I suppose she's still with Sam, but I try not to get involved in all of that. I need to move on with my life. I think I've been doing a decent job?" She looked at Murad for validation.

She received a nod.

"And Jacob?"

Leah bit her bottom lip. She had hoped Murad wouldn't bring up Jacob's name. It was her own fault for thinking Murad would look the other way. She didn't mind brushing things aside, but she never forgot about it. Once again, a blessing and a curse. "He's good. We're good," she ended up replying without much thought. She swallowed, then added, "Yeah."

She didn't know what she had to add "yeah".

She didn't know what "yeah" even meant.

Murad raised an eyebrow. "Yeah?"

Leah's eyes met the therapist's. "Yeah."

Murad slowly nodded, keeping her eyes on Leah. It was an unnerving gaze, and if Leah weren't Leah, she would've have cowered under it. Several, long seconds had passed when Murad let out a deep breath, placed her notepad on the small table next to her. "I want to ask you an honest question."

Leah's body tensed. She didn't like where this was heading. Then again, she usually felt that way during these sessions. Murad had an odd way of making her feel uncomfortable yet relieved at the same time. For the third time, a blessing and a curse. "Shoot."

"It's actually one question with a couple of follow up's, depending on your answer," Murad clarified. "Why don't you like talking about him?"

"Who?"

"The man you spend most of your workday with."

"What is there to talk about?"

Murad wasn't impressed with Leah's answer. Leah knew that. Murad knew that Leah knew that. "Based on these past several sessions, quite a few," she carefully said.

"We're friends. We work together. We're… bonded, mates, whatever…" Leah rolled her eyes, waving dismissingly. Doing so a couple of times. She tried to play it off so that Murad to leave her the hell alone. Which she knew wasn't going to happen. "It's not a big deal." She let out a snort. "Is that your honest question?"

Murad shook her head. "That was actually intended to be the follow-up."

"Oh."

"Are you attracted to him?"

The question hit Leah like a ton of bricks. No, it wasn't dramatic enough, not heavy enough. Maybe a freight train? Or an entire building? The Sears Tower seemed more like it. She stared at the therapist, jaw slack. She could only imagine the look on her face; she probably looked like a complete fool.

She felt like a complete fool.

In efforts to ensure that she didn't say anything wrong, Leah chose the safest route, "We're friends," she said with a nonchalant shrug. At least, that was her intention.

It didn't appear to work with Murad. "That's not what I asked," then repeated her question, "Are you attracted to him?"

Leah crossed her arms. "Why does it matter?"

"You're the one who said it wasn't a big deal."

Leah glared at Murad. What was up with this woman and her affinity for calling Leah out? She crossed her arms, trying to her best not to pout. She was unable to tell if she was successful based on Murad's blank expression. "It's not," she stressed.

Murad lifted an eyebrow. "Well?"

"He's not an ugly guy," Leah said, clearing her throat a couple of times. Several times. The answer was safe. Saying no wasn't going to do her any good because Murad would chew her own. It was safe because it didn't exactly reveal much. Physical attraction was nothing. She found plenty of guys attractive. It is what it is, she thought. "Far from it, actually…"

That wasn't what Murad meant.

Leah knew what wasn't what Murad had meant.

But honestly, what was the point of all of this? Nothing was going to happen, and Leah was going to make sure of it. It just wouldn't… she didn't know. She liked what she had with Jacob. It was working for the both of them, and she was positive that Jacob thought the same way. That was why he had freaked out about the whole "bonding, not mating" thing.

"I don't want to talk about it," Leah eventually told Murad, leaving no room for an explanation or a change of heart. She was serious this time.

Leah needed a shot of wolfbane-infused tequila, right about now.

"Okay," was Murad's simple answer, but the therapist couldn't hide her disappointment and frustration from Leah. "We won't."


"Do you think it's ever okay to be a coward?"

The moment those words tumbled around of her mouth, Leah regretted them, but by the time she gathered enough common sense to stop, it was too late.

She knew what, rather whom she was referring to. She wondered if her packmate, working behind the bar, knew as well. Probably did, she thought, frowning to herself. Nothing went past Quill—a blessing and a curse.

If anything got out of hand, she could simply blame liquid courage. After all, she was sitting at Quill's bar during Happy Hour, where shit tended to go down, where the wrong words always were voiced. Often around the wrong company. But she couldn't even blame it on the alcohol. The beer in her hand was wolf-bane free and, therefore, useless without any effects to Leah's faculties except for the bladder. She didn't even like the taste, but she was used to it. Out of habit—she slightly frowned at the thought. She wasn't an alcoholic, she knew that, but she supposed she should get her social drinking under control.

She shrugged and took another sip.

"Where is this coming from?"

Leah glanced up, relieved that Quill was ignorant to her…whatever. "Just wanted your opinion," she mumbled.

Days might have passed, but the conversation with Murad was still fresh in her mind. She didn't even know why it bothered her so much, but that barely masked look of disappointment on the therapist's face… she didn't want to see it again.

"Since when?" Quill said with a laugh, then stopped, understanding that he wasn't answering Leah's question. He put up a finger, silently asking the woman to wait for a second as he took a patron's order—a straightforward cocktail. Once completed, he stood in front of Leah, attention solely on her. "I don't know… I mean, it's usually not a positive thing."

Leah nodded slowly. "Hm."

"I don't think anyone's immune to it," Quill continued. "Sometimes, being a coward, not confronting hardships, dilemmas, it's safe."

"Like a defense mechanism."

"Yeah…" Quill trailed off, bringing his eyes together. "So, are you going to tell me what this is about?"

Leah swallowed down any snorts with her drink. "Nope," she said, accentuating the "p". She glanced up at the bartender after a moment of silence. Quill had a concerned look on his face, for a moment, reminding her of Jacob, but far less intense. He didn't look at her as if she would crumble onto the ground at the blink of an eye.

"I can it being a good thing," Quill eventually added, "Sometimes, you're not ready to face the truth because fear and doubt can be pains in the ass. You got too many things going on. You're not physical, emotionally, mentally ready for it." He shrugged. "Like I said, it happens to everyone, even the badasses."

Leah's smile was small but sincere. "You've always been the wise one, Quill."

"So, I've been told," Quill replied with a short, knowing laugh. He took a couple of newcomer orders before adding, cheeky, "Honestly, what would you guys be without my wisdom?"

Leah raised her glass. "Fucked," she declared with a grin before guzzling down the rest of the beer. She ordered another one, but this time with enough wolfbane to feel a buzz, and not enough fail a breathalyzer.

At the corner of her eye, Leah saw Aisha walking into the bar with Tiffany in tow. She smiled and waved both women over.