The tellies in the corridor where the security checks took place were all set to different news channels, but all carried variations on the same story: another climate refugee found horrifically murdered. Liv's temper boiled as she set her helmet and satchel on the conveyor to be scanned and stepped through the metal detector.

It screeched a warning, precipitating a pat-down. The officer found the knife she'd grabbed and stuffed in her jacket pocket as a precaution before meeting Marin and forgotten about, which meant Niko Gerou, the security director, had to be called down personally. He wasn't impressed with her lapse, and neither was her boss when they got to Jeremy's office.

Niko tapped the blade against his palm. "A knife, Liv? What were you thinking?"

The image of pavement dark with blood was etched behind her eyes. Isn't this what we're supposed to be preventing? Her rising temper took off and ran. "Maybe I was thinking that I'm an immigrant, even if I'm a dual national, and someone is out there targeting us. Maybe I'm thinking about the fact that the police are completely inept and have only just now realized that all the murders from the last two weeks are connected."

Jeremy opened his mouth but Liv kept going. "Or, here's one: maybe I'm wondering what the fuck we're doing here at all? Aren't we supposed to be finding solutions to the tensions in this city before shit like these murders happen? What are you even doing with all the data and recommendations I've provided? What —"

Niko's low, steady voice cut in. "Take it easy, Liv. It's a difficult time —"

"You're damn right it is!"

Jeremy slammed his hand on the desk. "Enough. Go home. You're suspended without pay for the week. First, it was improper data handling, now it's a knife and blatant insubordination. We are all under pressure to resolve the challenges facing our city in these trying times but if you can't handle it better than this, I won't put the rest of the staff at risk. Gerou, I trust you can handle escorting Ms. Hayes from the building without me? Good." He left, thin fingers rubbing his temples.

Liv's jaw dropped as the blood drained from her face. They think I'm a danger to the rest of the Commission? And on the heels of that thought, Unpaid leave for a week? How the fuck am I going to make rent? She turned back to the security director, eyes welling with angry tears she refused to shed.

He shrugged. "Sorry, Liv. I tried. Let's go, before he thinks of something else to tack on." Gathering up her satchel, he took her gently by the elbow to prompt her to stand. She found her feet, numb with disbelief and head swirling with the contrast between the weekend and today. How had she gone from triumph to a suspension in thirty-six hours?

Eyes weighed on Liv as people gathered to watch and gossip about her exit. She lifted her head, refusing to allow them to see how upset she was. It was nothing like how it had felt for Andrés's gaze to be on her, lust and approval combining to make a heady mixture, the first time she'd felt accepted and not like a fuck up.

Once outside, Niko held her switchblade up. "I should keep this," he pointed out before extending it to her. As it slapped against her palm he warned, "Don't tell Jeremy, and don't bring it next week." Liv nodded, wordless as she turned away.

The ride home seemed even longer than usual despite the lower volume of traffic on the roads post-rush hour. She was still sorting out what to do when she walked in the door of her studio flat. Nothing presented itself as she chucked the keys on the counter with a clatter and threw herself on the bed.

Stewing on her situation presented three ideas. First, and least appealing, was using the work she'd done against Quinn at the weekend to do some real damage. A smash and grab of data didn't do much for her; there would need to be a phase two. It would take time though. Someone at the organization had noticed the intrusion and worked to keep her out. They'd be on their guard now. Liv wanted the assholes who beat her brother brought down but wasn't keen on going down with them.

The second option was slightly more appealing. Marin owed her a favor, and while she could call that in and ask for...something...it meant she wouldn't have the favor anymore if this wasn't the bottom. Besides, she could always ask to be paid for whatever his new job was when they met on Wednesday.

That left Irena, a friend who always had odd jobs going, from ticket touting to construction to ride sharing. She was one of the most resourceful people Liv knew, but the work was often less than legal. Liv did enough questionable activity with her hacking and at least that had a purpose greater than money.

Maybe she'll have some courier work. Zipping around town on her bike would use up petrol, but it wasn't as if she'd need it to go to work this week. Sighing, she pulled up Irena's number and dialed.

***

Two days of courier work meant that Liv's finances were looking slightly better, but her mood had plummeted. She picked at a tin of beans. This meeting with Marin had better bring an opportunity for something more lucrative because this is fucking depressing.

The time and the boring work had given her plenty of time to think about Marin. Andrés. There was something between them, Liv was sure of it. She'd never felt such an electric connection as she had in that room with him.

He could have forced something. Most men would have, in her experience. Being alone in a closed room had proved too much temptation for other men in the past. All Andrés had done was look at her, and only when she'd given him the eye first.

If there was that much sexual tension during a job, what would a date be like?

What would...more...be like?

The evening before she was due to meet him again she allowed herself to consider it. He was clearly used to being the boss, being in charge, and that combined with his self-restraint called to her.

Well. That, and he's gorgeous as fuck, and I want to see what else he can do with that tongue. He's dangerous, though. She didn't know how or what he was mixed up in, but Liv was certain his work involved more than what he'd shown her.

Her mind had its own ideas, of course.

She dreamt of him that night. They were in her flat, after an improbably fancy dinner given that she didn't cook. He approached her with a smile and a mischievous sparkle in his amber eyes. "Get out," she told him, core tightening in a mixture of delicious anticipation and desire.
He cocked his head at her, not stopping in his advance. "Is that what you want? What you really want?" She nodded slowly, the lie making her stiff as she backed away.

She did want him to go away, didn't she? The connection sparking between them couldn't end well. It never did. But he was here, had come for her. Wanted her as much as she wanted him. Why wasn't that enough for her to let him stay? Frustration flared. Why had she had told him to go? Surely it was for a good reason? He was looking at her intently and she looked down to realize she was naked.

Panicking, she wrapped her arms around herself to cover her breasts with a modesty she rarely demonstrated in her waking life, but he reached for her. Caught her, one arm around her waist, the other hand behind her neck, holding her close.

"Are you sure?" he whispered into her ear, gently kissing the skin beneath her left ear. "I'll go, but first tell me you truly don't want me here," he murmured, switching to the other side. Why were her arms around his waist, pulling him closer, if she didn't want him here?

The bed hit the back of her knees and she tumbled back, taking him with her. He caught himself, hovering above her, lips ghosting over hers. All her thoughts and objections melted as she looked up at him, his eyes shining with hope and lust. "Stay," she whispered.

He grinned roguishly, kissed her deeply, and then started making his way down her body. At her nipples he paused to suck on one whilst pinching the other, hard, making her back arch. His lips moved lower, until he was kneeling on the floor between her legs. Pushing them wider, he paused to admire her before grasping her calves and tugging her down until her legs were comfortably positioned over his shoulders. He circled her pearl with a thumb before placing a kiss there.

Licks came next. Long, lapping strokes; quick probes; swirls, flutters, flicks. The pressure in her built...and built...

And she woke up, gasping from the almost-orgasm.

You're hopeless, Liv. She buried her face in her pillow and wished he was with her, tried to make strategic use of her fingers while grasping for the vestiges of her dream.

It wasn't enough. The tension stretching between them wouldn't be broken by a dream or her own fingers. Flesh was required. His. And maybe more than that, something to fill the aching emptiness left in the shattered shards of her heart.

I'm so fucked.

Knowing the fixer couldn't be trusted meant nothing to the spreading warmth between her thighs. This was the first person she'd felt so drawn to since she'd left her ex-fiancé. Any number of one-night stands and handsome maybes had come and gone in the last two years. None of them had affected her like this.

***

With time to kill before meeting Andrés, Liv decided to check in on Lewis the next morning. The hospital hadn't called with any updates, but she'd read that people in a coma could still hear you. Maybe visiting him would get her mind off of Andrés, remind her why she continued to take steps down a path that could only bring them closer together and her closer to trouble.

Dr. Nkosi was leaving as she arrived. "Ms. Hayes, good timing."

"Hey, doctor." Liv leaned around to peek at her brother. "How is he?"

"Stable."

"So...better?"

"Only in the sense that he's not getting worse."

Liv looked down and scuffed the floor with a toe. "Oh."

The doctor squeezed her shoulder, offering the same comfort she had the first night. "Go see him. All we can do is keep him comfortable and clean, and do a little physical therapy. Maybe talking to him will help." She marched on to the next room.

A steady beep and the hiss of oxygen grated on Liv's nerves when she settled on the chair next to Lewis's bed. The sounds reminded her of their mother's last months, struggling to hold onto life even as she wasted away. Lewis hadn't been able to tolerate it for long. As with everything else, taking care of Roslyn Hayes had fallen to Liv.

Resentment flared. "It's always me looking out for everyone else." She clenched her jaw shut and pressed her lips together, ashamed of having voiced the thought out loud even as she felt justified in it. "I'm the family fuck-up. So how is it always me at the bedside? Why am I always the one trying to make things work?"

Lewis didn't answer, couldn't have with the tube down his throat even if he was conscious. She slid down in her chair. The tone of her voice probably wasn't doing anything for his healing but sitting there looking at the ugly green tinge of the fading bruises on his face made her angry.

"And what the fuck is up with keeping me as your emergency contact? When you – when you abandoned me over Xavier, you said you were out of my life for good. That if I didn't want your advice or your help then I didn't want you in my life. What the fuck, Lewis?"

His chest rose and fell. Machines beeped, the even pace completely unlike their mother's at the end. It was like Lewis was asleep, not comatose.

"He was my fiancé. I thought he was taking care of me. Nobody else ever did. How was I supposed to know what emotional abuse was?" Her voice dropped to a whisper. "He was supposed to take care of me, and so were you. You should have had faith in me. You should have been there. Mom was dead. Dad was dead. You fucked off to journalism school. I was alone, and Xavier was there."

Liv swiped at the hot trail of a tear on her cheek. They hadn't spoken in over a year and these words had been buried deep, eating away at her. "You weren't there for me, but I'm here for you. As always. Guess that makes me the better person," she said, indulging in the prideful pettiness burning her mind and tongue.

Lewis slept on, as oblivious to her pain now as he ever was. She scrubbed hands over her face. "It's fine. Actually, it's not, but in a way it is. I learned how to stand up for myself, and for others. I'm stronger alone. And I might be pissed as fuck with you right now, but nobody messes with my family."

Her mind wandered back over the years, revisiting each hurt and every time she'd had to push it down to be there for someone else. Going over Xavier's gaslighting and controlling actions, the isolation and casual insults whenever she'd done well at something. Comparing it all to Andrés's easy distance and the sense that there was something more to him.

"You know what, fuck it. It's time to do something for me. And you know what I want? Some respect for my work and a night with Andrés. I want to feel good again. He can give me both."

Wulf had recognized Andrés at Foxtail and told her that he was "decent for being so dodgy, if a little too sure of his charm." That was easy to believe, given what she'd seen so far, but she was willing to trust him. For now. She knew what she wanted now. All she had to do was reach out and take it.

"Sorry, bruv. That wasn't as soothing as it probably should have been to help you get better. But for once, talking to you actually did me some good."

Liv took the train to Camden this time, not sure what Andrés would ask for or how long it would take and not wanting to be stuck in the same situation as before with her motorcycle. Her heart felt lighter than it had in ages, unburdened and open. Maybe I could have something with Andrés. A hacker and a fixer could be a good team...and he's not the only one with shady skills.