Chapter 31: Shitlist

TW: This chapter contains scenes of violence that could be disturbing to some readers.

He felt like the King of the underworld, watching his demons sin from atop his tower. The place smelled like sex and money. The bass of the music made the whole club tremble. Eric loved his new club, and most of all he loved the new views. His new dancers were decadent, and he could tell every guest watching agreed. Everyone, human and vampire alike, watched them in a trance; throwing money onto the stage like gambling addicts at the slot machines.

The idea of calling one of them up to his VIP level was toying with his mind. Every so often a stripper would glance up at him with a seductive smile and desire in their eyes - they wanted to come up too, but he couldn't help to feel there was something missing. Any man would feel lucky to be sitting on his seat, pleased with his new toys. But Eric found himself wanting more. He wanted the woman who stealthily cut the crowd bussing tables for the fifth or sixth time, God knows why.

What the fuck is Olivia doing was a question stuck in his mind like a shitty song. After excusing himself from his guests, Eric came down his tower and cut through the crowd silently stalking his prey. He watched her balance the tray on her left hand, spine up straight in perfect posture. Her hips swayed left to right, hypnotically all the way down the dim-lit hallway. Olivia then disappeared into the back storage room.

From the other side of the door, he paused for a moment, trying to guess what she could possibly be doing in there. Last chance to guess in the What the fuck is Olivia doing game. He wasn't very good at it. Eric couldn't hear much over the loud music: glasses clinking, liquid splashing in the sink, the dryer's door latching shut. They say when a child or dog is quiet for a bit too long, you know they are up to no good - surely the same applied to his accountant. He was going to take a wild guess Olivia was not the kind of domestic woman who did dishes or laundry in her downtime. Quietly, he entered the room. At first, this seemed to be exactly what she was doing. She even had cleaning gloves on, elbows deep in the sink.

"What are you doing?"

Olivia did a small jump, like a kid with their hand deep in the cookie jar. He enjoyed sneaking up on her greatly. "Close the door," she demanded.

Suddenly she wasn't the child getting caught by a parent anymore, she was making him his accomplice in whatever evil she was doing. As soon as the door clicked behind him, he could see she wasn't really washing dishes. Olivia had her hands in a cookie jar alright. Inside the sink was an attractive amount of money, soaked in murky yellow water. Judging by the smell of yeast, smoke and cheap perfume, he realized just then what she was doing. Olivia was working. Did she ever stop?

"I'm ageing the money to blend in with the rest. You asked for an Olivia solution, remember?"

His accountant never ceased to amaze him. He watched her crumple the wet money and shake the excess liquid out, then toss it in the dryer. It was incredible how intelligent Olivia was and how quick her mind worked. He was anxious to know what Olivia really was. Earlier this evening Eric had given Dr. Ludwig the hair sample when they had a brief meeting in the basement while everyone was busy setting up the upstairs. The grouchy old dwarf examined the hair through her coke bottle glasses, tugged on it, sniffed it and even quickly tasted it.

"Oh yeah, there's definitely something in there," she nodded, pulling the hair out of her mouth and placing it back on the napkin after her degustation.

It fucking better be something astonishing, because he paid the doctor 30k in cash for the expedited lab results. He had given Lafayette 50 thousand earlier, so yes, Eric lied to Olivia about how much he had paid their new online store manager. Fucking sue him if you want.

"Where did you learn to do all this?"

"When my father died, his bookie took me under his wing. Lorenzo made a promise to my father to take care of me in case anything happened to him. He was an accountant too, and I had always been good with math and money; I think I've done my dad's taxes since I was ten. His idea of taking care of me was teaching me from the Book of Illegal Things. Mostly he just taught me to be resourceful, I think."

He could tell this wasn't something Olivia talked about very often. She didn't seem like the kind of person who would have a lot of people to tell this to. The life of crime can be isolating. "And what happened to him? Your father?"

"Heart attack, when I was 16. Paramedics said he was dead before he even hit the floor."

Losing parents at any age is hard. He remembered the pain-staking loneliness he felt when he lost his. But in this day and age, things were very different. He didn't know if it made it any easier or harder, but a small part of him admired her all the same. Olivia had risen above the loss and grief and made quite a life for herself. "Back in my day, they would just have married you off."

She smirked, holding back laughter. "Marriage? Eric, I'm only 28. What am I? A child bride?" It was a rhetorical question, but the silence that followed was heavy and uncomfortable. She quickly changed the subject. "How are things down there?"

He imagined Olivia dressed in a long embellished dress, wearing a silver bridal crown. She would be washed and bathed by the women he grew up with. Her hair would be braided by his mother and adorned with flowers. Eric would spend the night digging his father's grave to retrieve his family's ancestral sword. They would take their vows on a small beach overlooking the ocean at sunset on a Friday. Eric would gift her the sword and they would make vows, swearing to protect each other until death did them apart.

His heart ached. "Loud."

"Have you called the Queen?"

He perked up again. Ah, yes, the 4.4 million dollar question. See, he didn't wish for Olivia to fail. He didn't want to face the prospect of having to kill her at all. He didn't want her blood on his hands, or to ever hold her small dead body in his arms. He promised he would never hurt her and he meant it. But there was also something delightful in this nightmare, an opportunity. Olivia still hadn't given a final answer to his proposal, and he wanted to know how far he could push it.

"Until the Queen's cut is clean and wired to her account, I'm afraid the clock's still ticking."

She protested. "Well, can't you tell her that it's all coming and then some?"

It was a bold move to call the deed done before it actually was, and probably an even worse call to give the Queen more money than she asked for. The woman was a hopeless gambler, she would spend it all by sunrise. But Olivia knew she would be off the hook with both vampires if she executed her master plan as promised. Would it be brave or stupid to make the call now?

"Why don't you tell her yourself?"

Eric reached in his pocket and slowly started dialling. He found himself standing close to her again. He couldn't help it, he was like a moon orbiting a planet.

She watched the numbers on the screen, her heart rattling in her ribcage. She wasn't done yet, and until the money reached its final destination, so much more could go wrong.

As predicted, she was bluffing. "Wait-"

He beamed. His deal was still on the table, she could still be his, and he was thinking of all the ways he could make it her only option. "You can always take my deal. Be mine, and she can't touch you."

Olivia frowned, her rubber gloves dripping over the dirty sink. "You can't promise me that."

He could promise her a hell of a lot more than that. If protecting her was the cost of earning her, then he was ready to pay it in full. "Have a drink later, on the house."

And then the King returned to his high tower and sat alone on his throne, eyes resting on the crowd, mind lost on a beach somewhere.

There was no denying her beauty. Willa was wearing a short skin tight white dress with see-through long sleeves, paired with white mary jane heels. Needless to say, Daddy Burrell would not approve of the amount of legs showing, or the tight fit. But Oliva doubted he would be pissed about his daughter's outfit, he would be far angrier that she was in here at all. As was she.

"It's Olivia, right? Olivia Carson?" She asked in that slightly loud voice people use in clubs. "We've never actually met! I'm-"

"I know who you are. What do you want?"

She quickly glanced up at the mezzanine. Oh. "Hey, how do I get up there? I tried to go see him, but the bouncers wouldn't let me up the stairs."

Following where Willa was pointing, she looked up at Eric. The vampire was distracted, watching Yvetta, the girl's dance instructor and tonight's headliner, on the VIP stage to his right. He had that same stone-cold look on his face, impossible to read whether he was enjoying the show or was bored out of his mind. His left hand played with the thin brass chain around his neck, showcasing his muscular forearm. His stupid, sexy forearm.

Not bothering to hide her bad mood, Olivia stared Willa down. She wasn't sour because Willa Burrell was Twitter's main choice for Eric's girlfriend, she couldn't give two fucks about any of it. She also didn't care that Willa was pretty and young, and probably far more influential than she would ever be. Olivia wasn't threatened or bothered by this child at all, even though public opinion would have you believe otherwise. She was fucking pissed because Willa was 19 years old, she was an underage girl at a vampire strip club! This girl either had one hell of a fake ID, or Chow was not paying attention at the door. Either way, heads were going to roll.

"Come with me," Olivia demanded, with an intentionally threatening tone.

She turned around and headed to the bar to drop off the tray of beer bottles, and when she looked over her shoulder, Willa had not moved from where they last spoke. She was mouthing over and pointing at Eric with her stupid puppy dog eyes. Her desperation was embarrassing. Olivia flagged down a bouncer, pointed at Willa and indicated for him to bring her over. The man was built like a brick wall and moved like one. He poked Willa on the back, and she started to stutter and argue with him about her petty wants and needs. The bouncer, however, did not give a fuck. He pushed her all the way to the bar like a tractor pushing dirt. Once Willa was at an arm's distance, Olivia grabbed her wrist and pulled her past the bar and through the staff door.

"Wait! Where are you taking me?!" She whined.

"Oooh, new girl?" Crystal asked curiously in passing.

Crystal had an outfit change, lots of dancers wore less and less as the night went on. She was wearing nothing but bright pink nipple tassels and a matching thong leaving little to the imagination which made Willa's eyes glue immediately to her own ugly shows. What Willa thought of Crystal wasn't very nice. She thought Crystal was dirty and vulgar and selling her body and dignity for money was shameful. Crystal was damaged goods forever, being a stripper would certainly ruin her reputation. No man or employer would ever want her. This made Olivia beyond angry.

"She fucking wishes!" Olivia barked at Crystal, who just started confused.

Olivia didn't know Crystal, nor did she care to know any of the dancers. But Willa's self-righteousness was the icing on the fucking cake. How dare she look down on Crystal or any of the dancers? Who died and made her so much better? Had she any idea how long and hard these girls had prepared for tonight? Or even how difficult being a stripper was?! Of course not, Willa was born with a silver spoon in her fucking mouth. After hastily unlocking the office, the two women entered the small room. "Take a seat and don't touch the money bins."

Willa stood in the small office with her big doll eyes, holding her purse strap for dear life, but she didn't budge. Her fear was loud. I really shouldn't be here - am I in trouble? What's she gonna do to me? Mama was right, this bitch is jealous of me. Maybe I can make a run for it-

"Willa, I will actually slap the shit out of you if I have to repeat myself." Olivia snapped, texting Eric about their little situation.

"Why are you doing this?!" Willa's voice was cracking. Her cheeks were pink like a porcelain doll, full of frustration.

Olivia glared at her and finally, she complied. Willa sat at the very corner edge of the couch, trying not to touch it as much as she could. Olivia couldn't blame her there, this atrocity had probably seen more action than a LA casting couch. Her phone buzzed, Eric had replied.

Who?

Olivia threw her head back and grunted, completely ignoring Willa's question. Despite not believing in God, but she prayed for more patience. After telling Eric to get his ass down to the office immediately, the floor assistant knocked. Terry had brought three more bins full of Dawn's, Savannah's and Tara's money. It was a reminder she had more expensive fish to fry than to deal with Willa's holier-than-thou ass.

She put the money through the counting machine, updated the ledger file on her computer and tossed it into their respective bins, giving Willa the cold shoulder.

"What are you doing?" The girl asked.

"Some of us work for a living, Willa," Olivia said curtly as she took back her seat.

Now would not be the time to add more drug money into the fold, not with the daughter of Louisiana's Governor-to-be present. Olivia read her mind suspecting she might be a mole of some kind. Maybe Alcide had recruited her, surely her dad's campaign would reap the benefits of having his only daughter assist federal agents on a sting operation. But all she got from Willa's head was Eric.

Eric's deep blue eyes, Eric's smile, Eric's voice, Eric's cold smooth skin, Eric, Eric, Eric, Eric. "I came all this way just to see him, I won't be a bother, I promise-"

"A bother?" Olivia furiously spun around on her chair. "The underage daughter of a running Governor sneaks into a vampire strip club's opening night in a town where vampire businesses get routinely raided and fined for the littlest infractions, then demands to meet with the owner who is busy working, mind you, and you have the audacity to think you are not being a bother?!"

Her eyes glistened with tears as she looked at her own hands sitting on her lap. Fucking pathetic. Out of all the situations Olivia prepared for tonight, this one somehow she didn't anticipate. How could she have? It now proudly sat at the very top of her shitlist. She should have just kicked Willa out immediately, but just out of professional courtesy to Chow, she didn't. Maybe Eric was thinking with his downstairs brain and put her on the guest list; maybe Pamela wanted to make Olivia's life hell because she was bored. But as far as personal feelings went, Olivia didn't care. If this child was not supposed to be here, Olivia would shove Willa in a taxi out the back entrance faster than you can say apple pie.

"I-I didn't think-"

Olivia's patience left the building. "Clearly!"

"Now, now," Eric's smooth voice entered the room, followed by his stoic dark figure. "Be nice, Olivia."

"Eric!" Willa gasped standing up. Her smile lit up like the Eiffel Tower at Christmas.

Thank fucking Christ, she was off the hook. Olivia could now peacefully go back to work. She logged in to the POS server to check the float levels of each register. Every register in that place was connected to a computer, and she had admin status. Olivia needed to know how much more money would have to be rinsed with herpes-beer water so she could reach her goal of laundering as much as she could. Being elbows deep in Fangtasia's biohazardous utility sink would be better than witnessing this any day of the week.

"What are you doing here, little mouse?" He asked the girl.

Olivia was seriously going to throw up. She glared at Eric disapprovingly, but his expression was cold as usual.

"I wanted to see you, you didn't call." Willa used a voice an octave higher and blinked her perfectly big doll-like eyelashes at the vampire.

"I'll give you two some privacy. Eric, don't let anyone see her, she's of age but under 21. I don't need to remind you why that is a problem, do I?"

"Well, well, well, haven't you been a bad girl?" He raised his brows at Willa, who giggled like a schoolgirl.

Okay, this was fucked up. She walked past the lovebirds (her stomach did a flip just then) when Eric stopped her, his heavy hand resting on her shoulder.

"Where are you going?"

"To go lick the pavement or something. You two have fun."

She caught a glimpse of hesitation in his eyes, as if he didn't want her to leave. "Oh come on, it's almost like the tabloids were right."

"About?"

"Everyone thinks you are bitter and jealous of her. Wouldn't it be fun to change the narrative?"

Since when did Eric care about what tabloids thought of her? Where was this kind of concern when she had asked him to dance when he knew damn well of the consequences? "What the hell are you talking about?"

He gave her a devilish smile as an answer, and as if she could somehow read his mind, she understood fully what he was insinuating. This asshole wanted a threesome.

"Did you hit your head this morning?" Olivia asked bluntly.

He loved getting on her nerves. Why she bothered letting him, was a mystery to her. "It's not like you don't swing that way."

"Wow." She protested, both astonished and offended. If there was a Bisexual Bingo card, a man suggesting a three-way was the center fucking square.

Willa interjected. "I'm sorry. I don't follow, what do you want us to do?"

Luckily, Willa was really easy to ignore. "This," she motioned at the girl. "Was supposed to be a joke, okay? I miscalculated the punch line because it was not supposed to lead to this."

"And what is this supposed to be?" He asked. "Why did you choose her to begin with?"

"Eric! Hello!? What are you guys talking about?!" God this chick was fucking annoying.

Olivia stared at Willa trying to remember what her drunk brain's thought process was, and what was the real reason Olivia had chosen her. The essay answer would be that she could handle it; she grew up in the limelight, a politician's daughter could easily play her role in the AVL's political theatre. But the truth was, part of Olivia envied Willa. She envied the clean-cut path to power she was born in; she envied her wealth, her privilege, her freedom. She never had to lose a father to lead her here; she never had to use her inheritance money to pay for her college education, she never had to cheat in poker games or launder money to pay for treatment for her sick mother. Willa was here out of her own free will. Eric was her award, not her punishment.

"It doesn't matter why, but this has gone too far, Eric. She's a liability, and she's not supposed to be here."

"She could be useful."

Liv shook her head. Using Willa for political gain had too many unpredictable variables. This volatile teenager was the definition of high risk, low reward. "Do whatever you want. Just know that I won't be here when this shit inevitably goes sideways."

If she sounded pissed, it's because she was. Olivia didn't even let him reply. Before she knew it, she shut her computer and was out the door; her feet were smoothly running the stairs towards the club's floor. Grabbing her tray back from the bar, she resumed her rounds trying her damndest to pretend nothing had happened. The pickings were slim now, and she couldn't shake off the fact that Willa Burrell was up in the office. She was fucking angry. Angry at herself for picking Willa to be Eric's date. Fucking angry he was so willing. Fucking angry she somehow had weaselled her way into the club. That gala was just the fucking gift that kept on fucking giving.

Trying to focus on her work, or maybe because Olivia was a masochist, she decided now would be a good time to scan the minds of patrons. It was how she caught cops amongst the crowd the last time, who knew what she would find now. Tonight, it was a different crowd. Many were vampires, unreadable voids, heads of silent negative space. But there were plenty of human men everywhere. They watched the strippers on the stage, dancing for the entertainment of the male gaze. Lust, sex, and dirty fantasies filled the room. Most were pretty simple, many were undignified. Others were violent, not entirely consensual. Before she could even begin to process the sickening echoes she got from the crowd - she picked up something quite unusual.

I lost her. Oh man, I lost her! I can't believe I fucking lost sight of her! Is she in the bathroom maybe? Girls do that right? Or maybe she knows we are fucking following her. God fucking dammit I had one job-

It was fear. Fear was always the loudest. Her eyes scanned the crowd, looking for the source. Where are you?

Truman is going to fucking kill me. Northman is gone too, should I fucking call it? What if he has Willa? What if he's like, eating her or fucking her or some shit? I can't fuck this up, I gotta call it.

Olivia spotted the man, sitting on a booth at the edge of the main stage. He was the only patron looking down at his phone, instead of watching the dancers. The man sent a text message. Olivia immediately froze on the club floor. It was a trap. Willa being here was a fucking trap-

He really thought nothing of her. She was pretty but hollow; uninteresting as they come. She was young, too young actually. She knew shit about fuck, and fuck all about nothing. If it weren't for her father's current political relevance, she would be just another face in the crowd. Wasn't that the reason Olivia had picked her in the first place?

The only distinguished attribute this girl had on her own was the fact she was relentlessly desperate and perhaps annoying. She certainly wasn't clever enough to sneak in here by herself. No, this was just reckless enough to have Pamela written all over it.

Willa stood in front of him, feet really close together trying to look dainty, or maybe she really had to pee.

He cut to the chase. There was no point in pretending anymore. "What are you doing here?"

"You didn't call, you said you were going to call." She muttered behind a shy smile.

Under normal circumstances, Eric would never say that to a woman. First of all, calling was lazy. He would have shown up in person if he wanted to see her. Second of all, it was a corny cliche. But in the perhaps 90 minutes they spent together at the gala a week ago, he made a point of being extra nice. If she were to talk to the press (which she did), he had to make sure she would only have good things to say (which she also did). Willa had served her purpose. She was a means to an end, and the credits had already rolled.

Explaining all that would be a waste of air. Now, being anywhere near Willa was only interesting if Olivia was somehow involved. When he walked in, his accountant looked as if she had accidentally drunk the utility sink juice while babysitting the girl, and got out of the office so fast he wondered if she ran to the bathroom to puke. Making Olivia jealous was now the real game (maybe it had always been). Take Olivia out of the equation, and talking to Willa in his office was like watching paint dry.

"If I said it, I certainly didn't mean it."

"What-" her voice was pitchy.

"Being seen with you was a PR stunt, Willa, and you enjoyed it much more than I did. But it's over now. How did you even get in here?"

"A PR stunt?" Her eyes welled up, her world looked like it was shattering. "What are you saying?! I thought you liked me! I was your little mouse..."

"Liked you?" Eric repeated the ludicrous words, weighing on how severe of a blow to give. "What's your blood type?"

"A negative-"

"Ew, yeah, no. There's nothing about you to like. Hope you enjoyed your 15 minutes of fame, but you can go now."

Willa's sadness turned quickly into anger. But it was as intimidating as an angry Pomeranian dog. "This entire time you- you used me?!"

He sighed, bored. Eric glanced at the security screens lining the back wall of his office, trying to find where Olivia had gone. He immediately spotted her, running across the club floor, dashing straight to Pamela behind the bar. They argued for a quick minute, then Pamela deadpan looked straight at the camera before disappearing through the fire exit door. Olivia also ran out of frame. There was something seriously wrong. Another raid? Tonight? No-

Eric turned back to Willa, his fangs descended angrily. "Who sent you?!"

She whimpered in fear at the sight of his teeth but boldly talked back. "Who sent me? No one! Do you have any idea how much trouble I went through to come all the way here to see you?!"

He grabbed her arm and looked deep into her eyes, glamouring the truth out of her.

"You're scaring me-"

"They are fucking raiding me, Willa! I keep this place purer than Virgin Mary before she got her first period, so I know for a fucking fact I am being set up. So who sent you?!" He repeated behind his teeth.

Despite his brute movements, Willa's mind buckled easily. Her shoulders softened when she spoke. "I came alone."

He growled. Downstairs, chaos suddenly ensued. It started with the main entrance doors busting open and armoured cops barging in. Like a nest of rats, guests started running in all directions - most zig-zagging towards the fire exit doors, lots diving in for the money scattered all over the floor. Fights started popping up everywhere, between guests and bouncers, bouncers and cops, cops and guests. The cameras also showed the parking lot entrances all blocked by police vans. Shreveport PD was flushing everyone out like a wasp's nest. This had been planned.

They couldn't hear the screams, growls and hisses from the patrons, staff and dancers until the music got cut. It was a whole new circle of hell now. None of the dancers could run in heels, and they were all being dragged off the stage and arrested one by one, naked and flailing. It was only a matter of time until cops came upstairs and found her.

"What's happening? Who are they?" Willa asked idiotically, studying the camera feed.

He didn't have a lot of time. Moving quickly, Eric unlocked the safe, tossed all the money from the bins and Olivia's laptop inside then slammed it shut.

"They really let anyone in college these days, don't they?" Eric did a final scan of the office before moving on to the next fire.

Which was, of course, Willa Burrell being here. Eric picked the girl up fireman style, making her squeal and swear, hitting and slapping his back aimlessly. He went straight to the back storage room, threw a bunch of Fangtasia t-shirts into the sink to cover up the wet money, and picked the duffle bag filled with the rest of the cash and tossed it over his other shoulder.

"Eric! Put me down right this instant!" Willa screamed.

"What, you wanted to spend time together, didn't you?" He switched off the storage room light and continued his way out of the club, like a soldier on a mission.

"Eric! I can friggin' walk!"

It was definitely the use of the word 'frig' that made Eric twist his body and hit Willa's head against the wall.

"Ouch!" She cried. "Eric!"

When he pushed open the fire exit door that lead out back, he encountered a scene much worse than the club's floor. There were red and blue lights flashing everywhere, police officers dressed for fucking war invaded in the parking lot, arresting and beating people with batons like some kind of modern civil war. Cars honked trying to leave, people ran in all directions towards the streets, fighting cops and other guests. There was screaming, so much screaming. A vampire was biting a cop by the dumpsters, and two other officers threw a silver net on him. He howled in pain, his skin immediately burning. There was nothing he could do for anyone, and he still had to get rid of Willa. It was bad alone she was underage, but the fact that she was Burrell's daughter certainly upped the stakes.

Three officers ran towards him, so Eric dashed upwards with a simple jump. He cut the night sky, making the cops, screams and sirens fade away. He knew Pamela had escaped before hell broke loose but he still had a bad gnawing feeling in his stomach about Olivia. He knew he had to find her. Eric floated 100 feet up, hovering above Fangtasia's roof like an archangel. Scanning the crowd below him, he did not see her. All he saw was pandemonium. Who was behind all this? The mayor? The Chief of Police? Alcide Heravaux and his DEA cronies? The Newlins? The King of Arkansas? Truman Burrell?

His own Queen?

"Eric-" Willa cried. "Eric, please let me go-"

"Quiet." He demanded, wishing he had hit her head harder.

He faced an impossible choice: hide Willa and save the club, or go back down and find Olivia amidst the pandemonium.

"Shit."

She bolted down across the club which seemed to have stretched itself to be a mile long. Olivia knew the exits by heart, rule number 5 and all. But outside was even worse than inside: there were cops and vampires everywhere, playing battlefield. The police raiding through the front was a strategic move: they were corralling everyone to the back so they would be easier to catch. Olivia couldn't possibly make it to her car, let alone drive out from the newest circle of hell, so she would have to run on foot. To where, she didn't know. Cardio was not her forte by any means, but adrenaline gave her superpowers. She dashed and sprinted, avoiding three officers in the span of 20 feet. People were yelling and cursing, the sirens were deafening, the flashing lights were disorienting. She had no idea where she was going. Would it be bad to just go home? Her sense of direction simply vanished, she could barely remember where she lived.

From behind a pick-up truck, she could hear Tara screaming and crying, getting the shit beat out of her by two lady police officers. It was like Olivia was being punched herself. She didn't know why she suddenly felt responsible for Tara, but for whatever reason, she did.

"Hey! No!" Olivia yelled, but the two officers were so focused on inflicting pain on a semi-naked, unarmed black woman they paid no attention to her. "Stop! Leave her alone!"

Olivia was halfway around the truck when something hit the back of her thigh, hard. Olivia fell forward hitting the pavement with all her weight, immediately scraping the palms of her hands and her ripping holes on her pant's knees on the rough asphalt. She felt a wide pressure on her lower back and a hand on her shoulder, pushing her down even harder. Someone was on top of her.

"You're under arrest-" a deep strange voice told her.

She felt all her blood rushing to the hamstring, immediately bruising. "I haven't fucking done anything!" She screamed in both pain and anger.

Olivia tried to look at the officer's name tag, but their hand moved from her shoulder to her head, pinning her cheek against the hard dusty ground, not letting her look.

"Stop resisting arrest!" The strange voice commanded.

"I'm fucking not!"

Game over.

They were out to get them all along. Olivia splayed her hands on the ground, and stopped moving, breathing even. The officer forcefully grabbed her hands and pulled them behind her back, while preparing handcuffs. Olivia locked eyes with Tara on the other side of the truck. She had mascara running down her beautiful face, her big brown eyes filled with a silent rage. She was a quiet sufferer. The two of them locked eyes across the underbelly of the truck that separated them. Olivia wanted to tell Tara they'd be okay, that she would call their lawyer and bail everyone out of jail, and everyone would be fine. But she couldn't say the words. She didn't know what would happen next, all she knew was that all of this was her fault.

Olivia could shake off the guilt of laundering money, of breaking laws, of aiding criminals and even selling drugs. But Tara, and every stripper and staff at Fangtasia were in this situation because of her. It was her idea to turn this already corrupt place into a police raid magnet. Tara was battered and her forehead was starting to swell. Her mind was numb, and quiet. She had accepted death. That was the reality of living in America for a sex worker of color, and Olivia had risked this woman's life for… What, exactly?

Money?

For the first time in her life, it didn't seem like a good enough reason.

Suddenly an officer plucked Tara off the floor, and just like that, she was gone. Olivia knew what was coming next, and she was fucking pissed.

"Why are you arresting me?!" She yelled at the officer on top of her.

"Do not talk to me!"

"Aren't you going to read my fucking rights?!"

The officer paid her no attention as he wrapped her wrists in the hard sharp metal. In his mind, he was already scouting his next target. There was a surge of yelling somewhere behind her, a deep voice roared, and then some more yelling and running. She was terrified of getting stomped on the ground, everything looked so much bigger and more threatening when you are laying on the ground. Then, a body slammed on the ground next to her. Familiar piercing blue eyes looked at her, instilling a small calm wave in her. She was no longer alone.

"Eric?" She yelled, knowing she didn't have to. He was lying right next to her and could hear her just fine.

She watched cops put him in handcuffs confused. Eric was much stronger than any creature in a 100-mile radius. He could easily tear and kill every single cop in the parking lot with eyes fucking closed, but instead, he was getting himself to be arrested. The ancient Viking vampire Sheriff let them throw him on the dirty ground like a commoner, he was allowing them to put cuffs on him, cuffs that he could easily break like eggshells. Why?! If this was a foolish attempt at saving her, he was doing a really shitty job.

His smirk was enough to drown out the entire world. "When you said you were going to lick the pavement, I didn't think you meant literally."

Of course, the world was ending all around them and here came Eric Northman with the jokes.

"Have you lost your mind? What the hell are you doing?!"

"I guess I'm not like you, Olivia," Eric said calmly, seemingly glad to be next to her on the ground. "When shit goes sideways, I'll go sideways with you."

A.N.

Hello everybody! This was a super fun but challenging chapter to write, and I hope (as always) that you enjoyed it as much as I did. The next chapter is saucy and hilarious, and I hope I get time to finish it for next week, but no promises.

Writing cute Eric/Olivia moments feels like... ILLEGAL to me lmao, I don't get to write them very often, but it got me all warm and fuzzy. And hello to all new readers, the numbers have skyrocketed in the past couple of months. We are at 32k views, not bad for a dead fandom lmao

As always, don't be shy and leave a comment and tell me what you think!

Love u all, til the next time xoxo