Never been to London, did minor research, DON'T quote me on an airport over canal bit, I made it up for the scene. If it's real- that's awesome. If it's not...Please don't flame me!
MUCH THANKS TO REVIEWERS/FOLLOWERS! I really appreciated the notes of concern, things are going much better with the life issues. Thanks!
ALL MISTAKES ARE MINE. DON'T OWN, DON'T SUE!
Snatch
The time was 7:48 in the evening.
While most people were relaxing at home around this time, Peter Lattimer was still hard at work. Mopping a towel across his brow, he had just finished tossing the dough for three dozen pizzas back to back.
Pete was tired.
Despite his goofy persona, Pete liked to set an example for his employees. On days when they were short staffed, he wasn't above playing delivery man for a day, and on days the chef called in sick- he just so happened knew how to make a damn good pizza. Today their seventeen year old delivery boy called in sick with the chicken pox. Considering the kid had a knack for using up his sick days with excuses, Pete almost told him no. But when he actually proved to be contagious….Well he gave him the next two weeks off.
Popping a slice of homemade pepperoni into his mouth (Spicy-Hot Lattimero's Specialty), Pete patted his coworker on the shoulder in passing then grabbed a coke from the fridge. Still dressed in his apron he took his drink, along with a bowl of assorted nuts, out to the front end of his family owned pizzeria, Lattimero's.
Lattimero's was famed for having a mom and pop atmosphere despite being an upcoming franchise. With its unique menu offering a blend of adult and children friendly meals, pleasant wait-staff, and most importantly, the separate world acclaimed sports bar- it was easily the perfect hang out for the entire family.
This particular Lattimero's was based in London.
"Looking good babe," Pete's wife Leena said as she gave him a quick peck on the lips. Smiling, she wiped a streak of flour from his face. "That's my hardworking man."
Pete chuckled and pulled her into a deeper kiss. "And that's my hardworking woman."
The sound of catcalls and whistles filled the room causing the couple to break apart from their kiss. Though his wife was now sporting a flush, Pete dismissively waved his hand at the customers.
"Awww, all of you just shut up!"
The patrons laughed at the Pizzeria owner. By now, most of the loyal customers were used to Pete and Leena's public displays of affection throughout the day. This is what also made the Lattimero's experience different, the dynamic of the couple.
Releasing his wife, Pete took a seat on a barstool and attempted to catch up on the football game playing on the screen. It was Chelsea VS Arsenal.
"So I've heard you've been busy today."
A pleasant voice steered his attention from the screen. Pete's face lit up at the sight of their family friend and one time worker, Dr. Steven Jenks.
"Whoa Doctor, what have we got to make you pay a housecall?"
"Harhar, very funny," Dr. Jenks sat down on the stool next to his friend, he raised his finger and the bartender gave him a beer. Taking a healthy gulp of his soda, Pete spun to give his full attention to the young doctor.
"So, how's the Grey's Anatomy?"
Dr. Jenks scratched his chin. "Not too bad. Today there weren't many patients. I got to see this one kid, he reminded me of you, he got a Lego stuck inside his ear."
Pete grinned, "Yep, that sounds about me. Did you get it out?"
"Of course. We had to put him under first though."
Pete popped a handful of peanuts into his mouth and turned his attention back to the screen. Just after Chelsea scored its first goal, the screen was interrupted by an emergency news brief. The entire bar groaned in disbelief.
"Just in, Billionaire Warren Bering has reported his daughter MISSING!"
The image on the screen turned to that of a well to do family standing outside a country club. On the stool beside Pete, one of the older gentlemen guffawed and voiced a slick rhyme,
"Little rich girl's don't go missin', she's just run off with a badboy and daddy's gone bitchin'."
There were a few murmurs of agreement. Across the screen the reporters face reappeared.
"The Berings are renowned for their oil and diamond mining facilities. Today, the 30 year old heiress, Myka Bering, was reported to have been abducted while clubbing in Paris."
Pete's vibes went off the charts.
"Hey, turn this up."
A few brows raised as the bartender turned up the report. Pete's eyes narrowed as he took in the screen. A photograph of a pretty curly haired brunette was shown. He had never seen the woman before in his life, but from the easy way she smiled- something told him if they were to ever have met she would've been a great friend.
The reporter's voice droned in the background as a photo spread of Myka Bering through the ages flickered across the screen. Beside him Jenks watched as his friends face grew dark.
"You knew her?"
Overhearing him, one of the waiters smirked as he cleared the counter, "Perhaps she ordered a pizza from here before."
"Please, a billionaire?" A waitress snorted. "More like she could've ordered 10 million pizzas from us if she wanted to."
Shaking his head at his employee's absurd comments, Pete lowered his voice to his friend and softly replied, "Vibing."
At that Jenks eyes widened. Something else that had drew him and the Lattimers together wasn't just their Midwest American origins, but actually something more profound.
Their psychic abilities.
Jenks was a human lie detector. He could read people and see the truth in their words as if he were a machine. Actually, he was better than any machine. Pete's wife Leena could read aura's. Though it sounds simple enough, this enabled her to literally know what someone needed or wanted before they opened their mouths. As for Pete, he was known for his "vibes".
Most times, Pete Lattimer knew the outcome of a situation simply based on how good or bad the feeling, or as he called it, the "vibe" felt. This special talent was not just great for simple everyday usage, time and again Pete has used it as his "cheat sheet" for the ever flourishing business. Thus far, it's been a foolproof method for leading the direction of the award winning company.
"Good or bad?" Jenks asked.
Pete didn't answer, his eyes were still fixated on the news report.
"Myka Bering was last seen clubbing in Paris. Officials said they discovered her car hijacked yesterday morning. Forces are marking her disappearance on high alert as some detectives are suspecting foul play."
"Whoa!" Pete exclaimed as his face paled severely. All eyes drew to the restaurateur in curiosity. Oblivious to the crowd, Pete continued to speak, his voice shaken.
"Jenksy, look at my hands."
Jenks looked down and his pale eyes widened. His ex-bosses hands were shaking violent and uncontrollably.
"I've never had a vibe this cuckoo before." Pete continued as he flexed his fingers. "It's so strong, and so weird, it's like—
Pete cut off.
"Leena!"
The restaurateur sprang to his feet and raced towards the direction of the kitchens. Leaving his beer behind, Jenks followed in his friend's wake. Entering the double doors just behind Pete, Jenks witnessed as his old boss grabbed his wife from behind and began to call her out in a childlike manner.
"Leena, honey, look! Look!"
Startled the curly haired woman spun around to met his eyes. Her own light brown eyes were wide as she searched his face.
"Pete, what's wrong? I can't read you, your aura's all over the place!"
Pete took gulping breaths to calm himself, "I just got a very, very, freaky weird vibe."
Dropping the phone she was holding, Leena gave him her undivided attention. "About what?"
Jenks spoke up from behind the couple, "A heiress has been reported missing, possibly kidnapped. It's all over the news."
"That serious?" Leena's brows furrowed as she shifted between the two men. Pete was still taking deep breaths, his face twisted into a grimace.
"They interrupted Chelsea VS Arsenal."
"That's serious."
At this, Pete looked about the kitchen as if he was missing something. Touching his hand to his apron pockets, he pointed at his wife. "Do you have the pouch from this morning's deliveries?"
"Yeah, it's in the safety box with the tips."
"Ok, I'ma need your hands to open it please. I really, really, need to see something."
Giving her husband one last worried glance, Leena quickly led the way to the office. After unlocking the safe with a key, she handed Pete the pouch they used to collect cash delivery payments. As he opened the pouch, Leena switched on the office television and turned to the news. The "Breaking News" header was still running across the channel along with some camera footage of some police officers examining a crime scene. Leena drew a hand to her mouth as she watched.
"The weirdest thing happened today, I don't know how I even forgot to tell you about it."
The brown woman turned as Pete's voice drew her attention back towards him. Pete had retrieved the bills and some change. "I had a delivery in London, this redhead girl was acting funny and when she gave me her change- she dropped this."
Pete handed his wife a shiny tooled ring. On the very center of the ring was an emblem letter "B" marked in the middle of a Celtic crest. The way it was fashioned, it could've easily been used to seal wax on an envelope. Leena didn't know what it meant, but from her husband's excitement, it must've been important. She handed the ring off to Jenks for him to examine it.
"There was this woman screaming in the background, and get this- when I asked her about it, she swore it was her porn!"
Pete jabbed his finger in the air and spun towards them, there was an insane grin plastered on his face. Both Leena and Jenks blankly stared at him.
"And why am I the only one thinking that's funny?" Pete's face grew sheepish as the grin fell. His eyes happen to gaze over to the TV and what he saw in that split second gave his body a jolting vibe. With a childlike yelp, the manchild directed his finger to the screen.
"Look, there it is!"
On the screen a reporter was stationed outside the billionaire's corporate headquarters, Bering and Sons. There was no mistaking it, the letter "B" in the company's header was exactly the same as the letter etched on the ring.
Slowly turning back to her husband, Leena bit her lip in pause. "You say you got a vibe?"
"A crazy monkey freaky vibe." Pete gestured with his hands. "It was the weirdest vibe I've ever had in my entire life."
Looking towards the news report, then back to the ring in her hand, Leena Lattimer slowly shook her head.
"This doesn't sound good babe, not good at all."
The heiress thought her captors had balls of steel.
They were in the back of a taxi, the three of them, with the driver singing along with the blaring radio. Twice since they had been in the car, the news report of the MISSING Heiress had come on during the commercial break - twice. Not once did the driver realize that the woman was literally seated less than a foot away.
Sandwiched in-between her two captors, Myka kept stealing glances of herself through the rearview mirror. Her own brain was whirring on overdrive as she spent majority of the ride trying to make logic of the peculiar situation. As strange as it may seem, it wasn't the soundness of her captors that she found herself questioning, but instead that of society. It was disconcerting to know her captors literally kidnapped her in full public view and nobody thought it strange or noticed.
Was society really that deaf to their surroundings?
Frustration boiled inside of the heiress' blood as she reverted back to the night of her kidnapping, then to her first moments of freedom from the hideout. Nobody, not one single person, noticed. And if they did, nobody seemed to care. With all the news reports there was no doubt that all of society knew exactly what she looked like. Hell, by now absolute strangers should be able to pick her out of a crowd, probably faster than her own mother. There weren't that many Myka Bering's in the world.
As if she sensed the heiress' brooding, Claudia gently nudged her in the arm with her elbow distracting her.
"Come on, it's time to go."
The heiress raised her head and discovered the cab had long stopped in front of an airport. On her right, HG had already climbed out the car and was removing a suitcase from the trunk. Myka's eyes went to the rearview mirror. The driver was eyeing her intensely.
For a moment her heart skipped a beat as she thought he had recognized her, that was until he pointed towards a clock on the dashboard. There was a little sign on top of the clock that said, 'OVERTIME PAYMENTS'. Not having a dime on her person, Myka apologetically waved her hands and quickly clambered out the car.
"I booked our tickets under an alias, we have a little time to kill until then." Claudia murmured in her ear as she drew her closer to her. "You don't do anything stupid."
The redhead released her and made way over to a kiosk to gather their tickets. As the heiress began to feel confused by the sudden freedom, HG linked their arms throwing the other woman off balance. Myka turned to meet her gaze.
"Come." The darker woman murmured as she gave her a sly wink.
Yielding, Myka allowed herself to be led away from the waiting area and through the double doors outside. There were a few tourist shops along the area and the airport just so happened to overlook a canal. Some couples were taking pictures of the scenery or waving goodbye to their loved ones as they entered the station.
From the outside looking in, it probably would've appeared they were a couple sightseeing and taking a stroll.
HG led the heiress to a banister overlooking a canal and leaned against it. Myka mirrored the motion and peered below. Just under their feet, the water was murky green color but it was still beautiful. The wind blew her hair into her face she wiped it behind a spot ear, in doing so she was once again surprised by its shortness. Turning to Myka, HG placed her hand on top of hers and pulled it closer onto her side of the railing.
Their fingers entwined.
It was an innocent motion, but the implications were intimate. Myka found herself uncertain as she gazed into the dark eyes of her captor. The darker woman broke contact and looked out to the water.
"Are you certain this is what you want to do?"
This question took Myka aback.
It was only a few hours ago that she had made the conscious decision to join her two captors in their cause. It may seem strange, especially considering the way they kidnapped her to begin with, but in a warped way she quickly went from seeing them as villainesses to viewing them as a type of renegade whistleblowers.
"Yes, I want to do this, I'm absolutely positive."
At this HG faced her with a quirked brow, shades of amusement played about her lips. "You're not just saying this because you're a little bored and want to give the "rebel" lifestyle a spin?"
"Of course not!" Myka balked. "I want to help because it's right. If I can fix anything, any of the wrongs that have happened to anyone, I want to do this."
HG released her hand and took to squeezing the banister with both of her own. "You know, just because you fix it, it doesn't mean it'll be any better."
Her words dropped off into a whisper as a flock of birds flew over head blackening out the sun for a few seconds. Myka folded her arms and drew closer to the darker woman. HG continued to stare ahead as she spoke. Though the heiress could only see her captor's profile, the level of pain on her face was more than evident.
"It will always hurt. People died Myka, they were killed. Nothing you can do will ever change the pain that those victim's families went through."
The darker woman's cryptic words from earlier ran through Myka's head.
I did die.
Once again, Myka felt a wash of sympathy towards the other woman. It may be a leap for her to assume, but the darker womans level of pain seemed to stem deeper than the little information she had shared with her in the loft. Something else happened to her, something far worse than anything Myka could possibly ever imagine.
Why does it even matter? The heiress questioned herself. And why does she keep getting under my skin like this?
Myka deeply exhaled.
"I understand that. It's just… I don't want to be like that. My name has always preceded me. I'm used to people expecting a certain standard from my family whether or not I like it."
The heiress followed her captives gaze out onto the canal as she spoke.
"To think something like this was done, what if people think I'm capable of being like that?"
HG dropped her hands from the banister and in a fluid motion, swept towards the heiress. The darker woman folded her arms and stepped into the heiress' personal space forcing the other woman to meet her eyes. Myka's contact brown eyes were watered.
"You think too much."
The simple statement caused the heiress to sputter in disbelief, "W-what?"
Her eyelids fluttering slightly, HG took a step backwards onto the banister. She lazily hung a hand over the edge as if she was trying to touch the surface of the water.
"People aren't as clever or charitable as they pretend to be Bering. In fact, most people don't give a damn at all."
HG held her palm out and gestured to the entire strip. "Like all of this, I snatched you in public and here we are walking about in broad daylight. Why doesn't anybody call the bloody cops?" She gave her a pointed look.
"Your picture is all over the news, on the internet. Yes, Claudia gave you a makeover- but you still look similar enough to rouse suspicion."
Myka opened her mouth to disagree, but nothing came out. The darker woman had already confirmed her worst fears. Satisfied, HG pressed on, her own voice laced with its own brand of cynicism and arrogance.
"You're thinking too much and being too hard on yourself for all the wrong reasons. If you had pulled the trigger, well certainly you are a monster, but you didn't. Nor were you the one to mastermind the plots. You are innocent."
"I can't just detach myself like that." Myka's brows furrowed. "It's not easy for me to be like that."
"Very well then Bering."
After a few seconds passed, Myka felt the bore of the other woman's penetrating gaze as she read the side of her face intently. Once she turned, the heiress was met with a bone chilling smirk. Dark eyes never once leaving her own, HG began to speak in a low tone.
"Do you think I'm a monster?"
At these words, the heiress' mouth flopped open, her tongue was ensnared. HG took an aggressive step forward causing Myka to stumble backwards. It was dizzying how fast the other woman could go from friendly associate to absolute psychopath.
"I pulled a gun on you and I scared you in the apartment," HG took another step, Myka unintentionally backpedaled.
"Claudia and I both abused you and ignored you for hours,"
Myka's last step ended at the feel of metal sharply pressed into her back. Barely an inch between the both of them, the heiress was left staring into those pools of black she continuously found herself both frightened and intrigued by. The fragrance of the darker woman's perfume curled into her nose and acted as fuel to her already quickened pulse. Frightened eyes shifted over her shoulder to what churned below. Myka was well aware, one more step and she would certainly flip over the banister.
The darker woman leaned into the heiress, she wore a devil's smirk as she ever so softly husked into her ear, "And here we are right now, with you terribly afraid I'll tip you over the banister."
There was a slight growl in the other woman's voice was that was threatening, yet all the same unapologetically arousing, it caused Myka's mouth to go dry. That the darker woman read her mind once again baffled the heiress. A breeze swept over them and sent their hair flying in a tangle. HG rolled her shoulders and threw a glance over toward the airport.
"It's chilly. Let's go back inside."
The darker woman took Myka's arm and swiftly led the way back into the airport. Too stunned by the other woman's mercurial tendencies, Myka followed her somehow managing to keep pace.
Shortly after entering the airport, Claudia rounded on them and handed HG a pair of tickets.
"Bout time, I thought I was gonna have to look for you kiddos," the redhead gave them a strange searching once over before pressing on. "Three tickets to the Big Apple, nonstop."
Shifting towards Myka, the redhead raised a brow. "And nope they're not cushy first class seats, so you can dream on Princess Barbie."
The heiress paid no heed to the comment as her eyes were trained on HG. The dark woman had removed, three, not two, passports from out of a pocket inside of her jacket and handed them to customs. If that image wasn't the telling, the heiress didn't know what.
"You knew!" Myka hissed.
Mindlessly accepting the passports, the darker woman took Myka's arm as before. The motion was so natural, neither woman noticed as they walked in sync to the plane.
"Knew what darling?"
It was a term of endearment reserved for Claudia. Not a hostage. Furious, Myka bit down on her lips and tried to save her rage till they were seated.