They didn't always work together. In fact, it was rare for them to. But they were always in contact.
But where Daniel had two jobs that went down the shitter before he could even get really involved and the job before that that had lasted for an absurd number of years in his life, had been blown all to hell over a pretty little redhead and her badass boyfriend. Not that he was angry about that. Fact of the matter was it ended pretty fairly. He got a gunshot wound to the shoulder and a ticket out of that godforsaken fucking situation that seemed completely without end.
Max had been on two long-term jobs. One exploded around him, leaving him lucky to make it out with his life. The other very anti-climacticly seemed to dissolve before he could make anything happen.
That was the line of work.
But they both needed this job to go well. They needed some bragging rights. They needed to be able to hold their heads high again.
"I am doing everything in my power to make sure this doesn't blow up in our faces, Max."
He nodded tightly at that, looking off for a minute before turning back with a huge grin. "It's so not fucking fair you are gonna get her. Me and her, we had a connection, man," he chuckled.
"Yeah, bonding over booze you hate."
"She thought I was hot shit and you know it."
Max was never the humble kind.
"Too bad you were too fucking late yet again, man. Just like with that sweet as sin Russian girl back in..."
"Fuck off. I'm still sore about that," Max smiled, getting on his feet and bringing his coffee cup to the sink. "Alright. Well, I'm out. You gotta get showered and ready for work and I got yet more fucking research to do. I still say I'm too fucking good looking to be sitting behind a computer all day," he added as he reached for the door.
"Who the fuck you kidding," Daniel said with a grin. "You weaseled your way into a lead role on this one too."
"Yeah, well," Max smiled, "gotta keep you on your toes. I'll see you Sunday night at the bar," he added as he walked out, leaving Daniel to have an unfamiliar pit of worry settle in his stomach.
Why, he wasn't sure.
But it was there. And as he showered and dressed and left for work, it started sprouting and growing.
He knew that feeling well.
And it almost always followed shit hitting the fan in massive, unforeseen ways.
TEN
Faith
Her father, for all his illegal activity, was a smart man.
See, when she woke up, there was maybe fifteen minutes for her to wallow in the misery at the loss of her father and beg, scream, cry at her mother to please snap out of it, to please talk to her. Because fifteen minutes after she woke up, the front door burst open again, making her air strangle in her chest as she slammed backward against the wall as two men stepped into her living room.
They were vaguely familiar to her, being associates of her father, men she had seen time and again from afar but her father insisted she not associate with.
But she was sixteen and not stupid. She knew who they were.
Vin D'Onofrio and his son Salvatore.
And she knew enough about their reputations for genuine fear to start in her belly and spread outward until it overtook her completely, until her entire body was shaking, until she was sure her heart was going to explode from the confines of her ribcage.
It happened in a matter of seconds as the men stepped in and looked around, not even noticing her in the corner for a long second.
"What the fuck were..." Vin started, his voice low and savage as he reached up and ran a hand through his immaculate hair.
"Pops," Salvatore prompted as his deep eyes fell on her, making her slam back against the wall again, more audibly. Salvatore was maybe only five years older than her at the time. Young, too young to be walking into a murder and rape scene without losing his dinner. But that was the life he had led- to become numbed to violence.
"Faith," Vin said, his face falling at the sight of her, at the bruises and blood, at the open button and zip of her pants. His hands rose slowly, palms out. "You know who I am, right honey?"
Unable to speak past the heart she was pretty sure had broken free after all and lodged itself in her throat, she nodded.
"I am not going to hurt you. I understand if you don't trust me on that, but I promise I won't put a hand on you. I need to ask you something," he said, his tone gentle, a little hesitant. "Honey, your pants are unfastened. Did they..." he didn't even get to finish his sentence before her head was shaking almost violently. "I know it's a sensitive topic, but I need you to be honest with..."
"They only raped my mother," she spat, the fear quickly transitioning to a feeling that, before, she was all but unfamiliar with, but would soon find became more of her default setting- anger. "They were about to rape me too until someone else came in."