A Few Steps Ahead

The click of my heels was the only noise around me. I walked down the snowy street in my high heeled black boots, the smoke from my cigarette and large fur coat keeping me warm. Most people were probably inside, already at a party or with their loved ones. I was far from alone, but I wasn’t afraid. I had plenty of people relying on my life to manage the trafficking contraband. Weapons were today’s flavor of choice, especially with the nearing of a civil war. Truth be told, I didn’t blame the rebellions. 

A shadow grew near me, and I heard another set of footsteps. Familiar in pattern, I knew who it was.

“Walk faster, Detective Fionnlagh. You’ll fall behind if you don’t keep up my pace,” I crooned.

“Somehow I think we walk together, Olivia Reeves, and yet, you always seem to be some steps ahead. Why don’t you wait, so I can catch up?” 

I looked over my shoulder. “You sure like throwing my full name around. Why don’t you also tell me my address and social security number?”

He laughed before half jogging to catch up to me. “Pardon me, Miss Olivia.”

I pulled out the cigarette box from my pocket and held it open for him. 

He shook his head. “I told my mom I would quit.”

I laughed. 

“Maybe you should too.”

I snorted. “Now we both know you’d rather I drop dead right now, so you can move on with your life and go onto a different case.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Before you, there was your father. Who comes after you, Princess? Your uncle? Your cousin? The Reeves dynasty is my personal project. I wouldn’t be able to move from it if I moved out of state.” He laughed. “Face it, Princess, we are stuck with each other, whether you like it or not.”

“Easier for me than you.” I spotted a cigarette receptacle and walked straight to it to drop the butt in. 

“Why do you say that?”

“My life does not revolve around yours. I come and go as I please. You, however,” I said, stopping right in front of him, our lips close, “your life revolves around mine.” 

He stopped breathing as if the air from my lungs would poison him. He didn’t respond. 

“Did I strike a nerve?” I asked. 

He took a step back and shook his head. “Good night, Princess Olivia. Don’t get into too much trouble.” He started to walk away. 

I smiled. “To be determined, Alastair Fionnlagh. I’m off for a drink.”

“Aren’t you 19?” He gave me a bewildered look. 

“Turned 21 this morning.” 

He pulled out his phone and looked at me, back and forth for a couple of seconds. “Well, I’ll be damned. Happy birthday.”

I curtseyed. “Thank you, Officer.” 

“Please, don’t cause too much trouble tonight with your friends then. I’d rather not have to drag myself out of bed at 4:00 a.m.”

I shook my head ruefully. “No need to worry, Officer. Going to a local pub for a shot of whatever and then I’m heading home.”

“No big party?”

“It’s the 27th, Officer. Everyone is still recovering from Christmas.” 

“You’re going to drink alone?”  

I nodded. “Sleep tight, Fionnlagh. There will surely be ruckus at New Year’s.”

I turned to walk away. 

I heard him scattering to catch up to me. “Okay. This is a one time thing. But since you’re turning 21, let me buy you your first drink. We will never hang out. We will never celebrate. If you do anything illegal tonight, I will throw you into a jail cell. I’m sure you’ve drank before; I’m willing to disregard that for a night. So pick your poison. One drink. To celebrate your birthday.”

“Jesus, Officer, you really loosen your tie after work,” I said dryly.

“Take it or leave it.”

I felt my lips curl up. “Okay.” 

“Alright, lead the way.”

I hesitated. “I think there’s a Buffalo Wild Wings on the way.” 

“No chance in hell. I’m leading the way. We are going to a legit pub. Preferably to something with a four leaf clover on the windowsill.”

We marched down the street in silence until we eventually found the four leaf clover and the pub. It was surprisingly empty, just a couple of patrons in the chairs watching a pre-recorded football game. There was still a tree up in the corner, not quite decorated nor as important in the grand decorations of the establishment. 

“What do you want?” he asked me as we stepped into the warmth.  

“Umm…” I looked behind the bar.

“I’ll take a beer, whatever’s on tap,” Alastair said to the bartender. 

The bartender looked at me. 

I rarely panic but I didn’t know what to pick.

“What do you normally get?” Alastair asked. 

“Actually, Officer, believe it or not, I haven’t had a drink before. It was the one thing that I just wanted to keep for today,” I said, setting my ID down on the bar. 

The bartender leaned over to look at the ID. “Happy birthday. Want a birthday shot? On the house?”

I laughed. “Sure. When in Rome..”

He mixed two kinds of liquors after dipping the glass in what I assumed to be salt and added a piece of lemon. The bartender then placed the drink in front of me. 

I looked at Alastair. “Well, Happy Birthday to me I suppose.” 

I smelled the liquor and realized that was a mistake. Before I could look weak, I threw the drink back, burning moving from my throat to my chest and nose from the liquor and I realized that the rim of the shot glass was done with sugar. I sucked on the lemon afterwards, the combination baffling and frustrating.  

I did my best to keep my face composed but I saw Alastair pursing his lips to prevent a smile. 

“Do you typically drink sweet things?” he said after a drink of his beer.

I shrugged. “You tell me. What have you seen me drink?”

“Do you still have the hot toddies?” 

“We have cinnamon maple whiskey. I can try to throw something together.” 

He smiled. “That’d be great.”

Alastair took a seat at the end of the bar and I followed suit. 

The bartender started mixing the drink. I checked my phone, not surprised to see zero notifications on the screen. 

"Why the hot toddy?" I asked Alastair after a second. 

"You seem like you'd be a whiskey gal." 

I grimaced. "Dad said the same thing."

His face darkened. "Your father was an...interesting man." He thought of his words carefully. "You never got to drink with him." 

I shook my head. "He...tried. He asked me if I wanted to try some from the moment I became a teen...maybe I should have said yes." 

"Why?"

I shrugged. "Maybe having another vice to share with the man wouldn't have killed me." 

"But it killed him."

"No. Your supervisor did that." 

I looked straight ahead, and in the reflection mirror behind the bottles at the bar, I saw him flinch. 

The bartender set the drink in front of me. 

I brought the drink to my nose and smelled. The alcohol seemed to overpower everything in the cup, but it did smell of warmth. I took a small sip. It was still a hard drink, but there was a smoothness to it. 

"I'm sorr--" he started, but I held up a finger. 

"Don't." I took another sip. "We are who we are. This is a nice blur of line. But tomorrow morning, you'll still be a detective and I'll still be a Reeves." 

"What would you want from me, Olivia? Neither of us is innocent. And your father sure as hell wasn't." He squeezed his eyes shut. "Sorry. I shouldn't have said that." 

I took a deep breath and exhaled. I poured the rest of the drink down my throat. 

"He wasn't innocent. Nor perfect. But he was my father. And he never walked with a gun. He didn't have to." I threw a hundred dollar bill on the bar. "If your boss was so intimidated, he should have walked away. But he didn't. He shot my father instead. You and I both know he didn't have proof of wrongdoing. So it was murder." I stood up from my chair. 

He didn't move. "And you avenged him." 

I gave him one of my most charming smiles, refusing to confess to anything. "Enjoy your beer, Officer. Always a pleasure." 

I put a cigarette to my lips and lit it on my way out, using the stable air to light before blowing the smoke outside. 

I don't normally allow people to get under my skin. I allow people nothing. Maybe it was his profession or the way he said it. Fionnlagh was not a bad man, far from it. In another life, we were likely friends. But in this one, where he was desperate to disband and undo the work of my family and hell bent on seeing me behind bars, friendship was off the table. We both knew that. 

Besides, I didn’t know how long it would take for the alcohol to kick in. And I didn’t know how many secrets would be exposed if he got me too liquored up. 

Before I could get too far from the bar, I heard a door slam and a scuffle.

I turned around to see three against one. I walked over when I noticed Alastair on the ground. I mentally groaned but dropped the cigarette into a puddle. I pulled out my gun and shot up into the air. 

Everyone looked at me. 

"Did he personally cause you or your family harm?" I asked. 

"He's a cop," one of the guys said, while the other two wouldn't stop.

I pointed my gun at him and cocked it. "Go home." 

"Listen here, bitch." 

I tipped the gun down and shot his thigh. Everyone immediately froze, and the man with the profane language dropped to the floor. 

"That's not my name nor what I prefer to be called. Try again." 

He didn't respond. The world stood still. 

"Your friends here can keep attacking him and I can shoot all of you. Now, I think the more sensible option is for you to be taken to a hospital. Freak accident while you played with a gun."

The guy nodded. I lowered the gun and watched his friends haul off the injured man. When they were finally out of sight, I put the gun back into my pocket.

I walked towards Alastair and extended my hand. He took it and used it to get up. 

"Do you need to go to the hospital?" 

He shook his head.

He was far from his home. At the very least, he needed first aid. 

"Come on." I texted my chauffeur to come pick me up a block away. He was at my home anyway, so it wouldn't take him very long. 

Alastair walked with a limp, so I supplemented his step. "You don't have to…"

I didn't speak. I simply kept walking until the car pulled up next to me. I helped Alastair get into the backseat of the car and closed the door. I got into the front seat. 

"Good evening, Thomas," I said, smiling at the driver. 

He smiled back at me. "Good evening, Miss. Did you have a nice night?"

"Mostly uneventful."

"If you don't mind my question, where is your scarf?" 

I looked out of the window. "A child needed it. The one that stands in between second and third with her mother."

"Ah, yes. Suzanne." 

I turned to look at Thomas. "The girl?"

"The mother. Ran away from an abusive situation. Couldn't leave her daughter to suffer the same fate." 

"Thomas, may I ask you to do something for me?" 

He chuckled, already knowing where my thoughts were. "Yes, Miss. I can help set up a home for them until they get back up on their feet."

"Have I ever told you I appreciate you, Thomas?" 

"Every day, madam." 

"Home, please. And you are dismissed for the rest of the night." 

"Yes, Miss." 

When we finally got home, I took Alastair to the kitchen and made him sit down. He couldn't help but stare around. I took a bag of peas out of the fridge and handed it to him. 

"Hold that against your face," I instructed. His left eye was beginning to swell.

I pulled the first aid kit from under the sink. I didn't speak, simply trying to clean any open wound. 

"I'm sorry," he said, his voice gruff. 

"My father was not a bad guy. Not the way he is made out to be. You didn't know him. You don't know me. I'm like him…and he was the only person I had."

He looked at me for a second. "If you're like him...I believe you." 

"What does that mean?"

He stood up, looking into my eyes. 

He moved slowly, tipping my face up. He leaned down and brought his lips to mine. I found myself shocked and unable to move, a feeling in my stomach like nausea, or nervousness building. And then, he pulled me closer to him. My eyes closed and I kissed him back, wrapping my arms around his neck, the feeling of him too nice to let go of. 

When we finally separated, we looked at each other. 

"Oh, fuck."