CoR Unpack

Aimee seemed invested in getting things from the bathroom, so Rhetta left her to it. Now that the girl had a weapon, she was a little less worried, but she still wanted to scope out the rest of the area. Hopefully Aimee remembered she had a gun if she needed it - but the place had been quiet so far, empty. A completed job, not an ongoing one.

Rhetta took the time to go through the rest of the apartment, opening doors with a nudge of her shoulder where she could, a kick where she couldn't, avoiding leaving fingerprints on anything that was going to stay here. Aimee's wouldn't matter - she lived here, but Rhetta had been in prison for five years, and so it would be known that anything she left would be recent. She didn't plan to get set up for whatever this was - she had other things she wanted to do. Five years out had been enough - more than enough. Too much.

Too many things had changed, and she should have been here.

She did not think Aimee needed half of the things that she was putting in the bag, but she didn't say anything about that. Now was not the time to antagonize her, after what she had been through, and practicality sometimes came across as antagonizing. Her mother had made sure she was clear on that point, for whatever reason. If they were under attack, it would have been different, but in a quiet situation, it was better to do nothing and keep guard.

"This place is a disaster," she said, conversationally, coming back to the hallway and leaning against the wall, keeping guard while Aimee finalized whatever she was doing in the bathroom and got ready to move to wherever she wanted to be next.

"What can you tell me about these not-that-bright roommates of yours?"
 
Hearing movement, Aimee looked up in time to see Rhetta disappearing out of the doorway. Assuming she was going to check the rest of the apartment, she tilted her head and listened. If there was an explosion, she would have to run over to wherever it happened to do as she was ordered. Wait, was she ordered or was that just a suggestion? No, definitely was an order, especially since it came from Rhetta. That woman wasn't one to mess with and she could mouth off later when she was back at the railyard. Stupid railyard. Looking longingly toward her tub, she sighed softly. She sure was going to miss this place despite what had happened in the bedroom. Speaking of that... no explosion. That was a good thing and she glanced back up at the woman's voice and she merely shrugged.

"We were busy partying and didn't feel like cleaning up because we would just keep partying. It was worse than this a week ago, but I did do some cleaning up. Did you busy yourself with busting down all my doors?" Scowling, Aimee zipped up the bag and held onto it before stepping out into the hallway.

"The rest of the stuff can stay here, I guess." She moved toward her room just as Rhetta asked about her roommates. Freezing momentarily as the beating flashed into her mind, Aimee shivered uncontrollably. She didn't want to talk about them. Hell, she didn't even want to think about them.

"They're assholes... assholes that I should have told you guys about so you could have done a background check or whatever. They're..." She got herself moving again and sighed deeply, fingers on her free hand running along her forehead as she stepped into her bedroom. Unfortunately for her, the images playing through her mind intensified and she took a step back, letting out a loud whimper.

"I... they... I thought they were cool. We met partying in a club and I needed roommates, so I invited them to stay with me. I had no idea that they were in with the Jackals. I ... I really don't know much about them only the night I was beaten and left for dead, they were a lot different. Faster and stronger than what should've been possible even if they were a were-creature of some kind. They kept asking me why I got lame... and..." She trailed off, tears streaming down her bruised face as she forced herself to walk to her closet to grab a bag to start packing.
 
"They aren't your doors any more," Rhetta pointed out, which wasn't exactly a defense of what she'd been doing so much as a statement that she found amusing. Whether or not Aimee found it amusing was another matter entirely, but since it was pretty much a given that she wasn't getting her security deposit back anyway, Rhetta didn't think it mattered all that much. Given the state of the apartment already, she didn't think it was going to matter all that much.

Aimee's admission about what she should have done didn't earn a lecture, only a shrug and a "Sounds like you learned something." There were lots of ways to learn things, and some lessons tended to stick better than others. She didn't think Aimee would make the same mistake again, and that was enough as far as she was concerned.

The last part, though, that definitely sparked her interest, especially because it was something she'd heard references to before, and she didn't like the way that situation was all lining up. "Aimee. How much faster and stronger? Estimate."

There was absolutely no question that she believed Aimee, which might have come as a shock for the girl - but even if she hadn't already heard some of the same strangeness from that half-broken Jimmy kid, Aimee was Pack, and that meant Rhetta trusted her.

That, and people didn't tend to lie to Rhetta. At least, not once they knew who she was, if they knew what was good for them.
 
They aren't your doors anymore...

Rhetta had a point and Aimee hated it. How dare she throw back into her face that she was being evicted anyway. Scoffing and incredibly grateful for the change in topic, she opted not to say anything in retort and instead started to roll her clothing up to fit into the bag she had grabbed. Rolling took up much less space and she wasn't about to leave much behind. Her thoughts briefly shifted to her deposit that she had to put down and she was a little put out that she wasn't going to be getting that money back. Damn whoever broke her fucking door.

"Hm?" Aimee snapped back to the conversation at hand and nodded at the notion of learning her lesson. "Yeah, I learned a lesson, not like I'll ever be allowed out on my own again."

Scowling at that depressing thought, she shoved her things into the bag angrily, her mood souring the longer she was with Rhetta. It was the question about her roommates that pulled her back into what had happened and she glanced at the bed where she had been thrown and subsequently beaten before tearing her eyes away and back to Rhetta.

"You actually believe me...? Wow, I uh..." Stammering, Aimee forced herself to go back to that night and even though she started to shiver, she managed to recall what they were like.

"Like... one moment one of them was standing at his doorway and within seconds or less, he was at my doorway, holding onto my arm. His grasp was stronger than I have ever felt, which I know doesn't say much, but he was incredibly strong. Like... Rage strong and super fast. Like they were all steroided up but... worse." She finished rolling and packing all her stripper outfits before starting to put her normal clothing into the bag.

"I'm going to have to take a cab. This bag is too big to be on the back of your motorcycle with me. I've taken a cab before and I will have to take one back and forth to my work."
 
"Why do you want to be alone? We're a Pack." It wasn't the first time Aimee had complained about not being permitted to be on her own. She was a Bloodstone, though, and that meant having people to stick together. It was better to be with someone else. They watched each other's backs - that was how it was for all of them. Rhetta didn't like being alone at all - she'd certainly spent enough time in solitary the last five years to be extremely aware of that fact. Even before that, though, she'd always preferred to be around other Pack members, for as long as she could remember.

The rest of the information was at least easier to understand. Rhetta looked between the doorway of the apartment and the one to the bedroom, gauging distance. "Hm. Interesting." She'd have to fight differently, against something like that, and she was going to have to figure out how sooner rather than later. That, or she could just let them tear her arm off and gut them while they were distracted. That was often a winning tactic.

Aimee was packing up clothing, rolling it tightly to squeeze it into the space she had available. The clothing itself was fairly telling, giving a clear picture of what Aimee had been doing with herself. Rhetta remained unbothered - it was a job, and Aimee could make her own decisions about that. She was curious where, in case the Pack ever needed to have words with anyone on Aimee's behalf, but someone would undoubtedly already have that information, and if Aimee wanted to talk about it, she would.

"How long did it last?" The boosted roommates situation was more pressing, in Rhetta's opinion, and she wanted to find out what she could. It was possible whatever it was hadn't worn off before Aimee had passed out, but it was also possible she'd have noticed something. "Did the effects taper, at all?" She knew that others in the Pack were intending to ask that Jimmy kid a lot of questions about whatever he'd been hopped up on, but Aimee was a good source of information too, especially because she'd been pitted against whatever it was, and seen the effects from the outside.
 
"I don't always feel like part of the pack. Or rather, I didn't feel like part of the pack when I still was with the pack. I... it's hard to explain and I doubt you'd understand." Aimee looked down at her bag, it almost full and sighed softly. "I'm weak and a liability to the pack. I like no one telling me what to do and when I can go out and what I can and can't do. Dad did that shit to me all the time and I didn't understand. Maybe he was doing it to protect me or maybe he was just being an ass. I..." Aimee paused and chewed on the inside of her cheek before just shrugging.

"It's hard being the weakest and the one with the worst healing. I want to be useful, but I know I can't fight my way out of a paper bag. Good at shooting... but fighting, not so much." Scoffing, she yawned and grabbed more clothing, rolling them up and shoving them into the bag.

"How long did what last?" She asked, momentarily confused as if she had forgotten what they had been talking about moments before, which she kind of had. Aimee moved away from the closet and to her little hidey-hole where all her money was stashed. Shoving the huge wad into her pocket, she looked at the bed again and immediately knew what Rhetta was asking. She wanted to know how long the beating lasted.

"...I don't know, Rhetta. Too long for my own good. They ... they used my bat against me and I'm surprised they didn't bust my skull open. It was like... it was like they had pulled back on their strength to make sure I was hurt deeply, but not killed." Shuddering, Aimee held her arm against her as she moved to the drawers, pulling out her undergarments and pajamas. "They didn't seem to get any weaker though. Whatever they were on, it was potent and didn't seem to taper off at all. I can still hear their laughing... their cruelty... their strangeness." Aimee bit on her bottom lip and whimpered, not wanting to focus on the beating anymore.

"I'm done. I've got what I want... what I need. Can we leave now? I don't want to be here anymore. Plus, I need to go talk to my boss to tell him I'm not going to be able to come in for a while."
 
"I don't understand. But you do." Both of these things were stated without inflection - Aimee wasn't wrong that Rhetta didn't have an understanding of what it was like not to consider herself part of the Pack, Rhetta just didn't think that was particularly relevant to the situation. People had different feelings about things, and just because Rhetta didn't always get them didn't make them less valid. It was yet another one of her mother's lessons.

The same words kept popping up, she noticed: weak, liability, bad healing. Rhetta wondered how many of those words had come from Aimee's parents, when Jacques was trying to prepare her for what the world was going to like. Weak or not, she was still a wolf, and the world didn't treat those well. That, Rhetta understood, but Aimee wasn't moving past it.

"You don't have to be Ragenard, Aimee. He's a fuckwit anyway." Rhetta saying this was not a statement of treason, because there wasn't anyone who wouldn't believe she would absolutely say it to him directly. It wasn't that she didn't respect him, it was just that sometimes he was a fuckwit, and he needed people to tell him that.

"Look. A good Pack - one that's working the way it should-" One that didn't have half its members killed, that hadn't been betrayed, that wasn't dealing with a bunch of shit that could even put Rage down for a while - Rhetta didn't say this, because both of them here didn't want to talk about Jacques, not like that. "It should be making use of people's strengths, not trying to push them into a role they're not suited for."

That was a little personal, but she wasn't going to go into that part. She acknowledged that Ragenard didn't have a lot of good options, but she still had a lot of misgivings about how he'd handled the situation. Fortunately, this conversation wasn't about that. "If you want to be an asset to the Bloodstones, find out what you are good at, and do that. It doesn't have to be kicking the shit out of people. The Railyard is a disaster. We need people to find second hand furniture and get it moved in. We need people to clean stuff, and not just when it's covered in viscera - regularly. We need people to fill out order forms, we need people to stock things like bread and T-shirts. Desmond has a pile of papers on his desk that he's not getting through fast enough because they keep piling up, Jesse can always use another pair of hands, and if you're squeamish, you can sort supplies. Stop trying to be someone else, figure out who you are, and do that."

Maybe it was saying too much, but maybe it had needed to be said for a while. If Rhetta had been here during the last five years - No, if she'd been here during the last five years, Aimee wouldn't have talked to her, but at least she could have kept an eye on her, discreetly if needed. She'd absorbed the information about the beating, but didn't press the issue, less because Aimee didn't want to talk about it and more because she thought she'd already gleaned what she could, and that the girl would come to her if she thought of anything else. They'd gotten that much accomplished, at least.

"Better call for a ride, or to get your stuff back to the Railyard at least. Are you planning to talk to your boss in person?"
 
Surprisingly, Aimee actually listened to what Rhetta was saying and it wasn't just because she had nothing else to do at that moment. Sure, she was more or less trapped with the woman, but she could have easily tuned her out. She did that well and had plenty of practice from talking with her father. She was listening because Rhetta had listened to her and actually seemed to care about her and her place in the pack. At least someone did. No, that wasn't fair, others undoubtedly cared or they wouldn't have been pressing her so much to come back into the fold. Sighing softly, she swept her fingers along her forehead, rubbing it while thinking about what she was good at.

"What if I'm not good at anything? Sure, I can help out and of course will when I'm around, but none of those things sound like my cup of tea. Can't I just bring in money and call it good?" It wasn't that she was lazy, it was more she was afraid of disappointing the person or people she was helping.

"I do need to learn how to fight though, Rhetta... regardless if I'm not good and can't heal fast. I have to be able to protect myself beyond using the gun. I tried fighting with a knife and got my wrist crunched. Maybe if I practice, I will get better and can compensate for my weakness and shit healing." Aimee shrugged and pulled her phone out, using an app to call for a cab. She almost did an uber, but that was a bit excessive for the time.

"I get where you're coming from though and will see where I fit in even if it means sorting medical equipment or poking people when they're supposed to be resting. I know some second-hand stores that sell furniture. I can check it out and reach out to my coworkers to see if they know any furniture being sold or given away." Flashing a smile, feeling a bit better than earlier when they were talking about the beating, Aimee grabbed the two bags with her good hand and moved toward the doorway, pausing only when asked if she was going in person.

"Yep, got to talk to him in person and no, I don't need a babysitter."
 
"You're nineteen," Rhetta said, as if this explained a great many things. "You'll figure it out." She was fully aware that most people did not have their entire life planned out by the time they got kicked out of preschool. Nineteen was right on track for most of the Pack's prospects, and Rhetta was fairly convinced that most of them didn't have the faintest idea what they were good at, either. Desmond had been a fucking idiot well past nineteen. Rhetta wasn't worried about it. "If you want to practice some time, though, let me know. I know how not to hurt people."

Considering the source, this last statement was, perhaps, scarier than the other way around. Rhetta definitely noticed that Aimee was calling a cab company and not someone back at the Railyard, but she chose not to make it a problem. The last, about the babysitter, earned only a slightly raised eyebrow. Rhetta was not a babysitter. She was here as a Bloodstone, the same way she would have been for any of them. Babysitter implied a certain juvenile status. Rhetta didn't even like kids. Anyone who wanted her for a babysitter probably didn't have the person's best interests in mind.

"Does your boss need a babysitter?" she turned it around, with a hint of a little smile that implied that she would be quite happy to go do that, if needed.

"I'm following you. If you don't want me going in, I'll wait outside, but I want to be close enough in case you run into trouble or your asshat roommates decide they want another round. No arguments on that, Aimee. I'd be doing the same if you were Draaven."

Or Jacques, of course, but Rhetta didn't think that comparison was likely to help.
 
She hoped Rhetta was right in that she'd figure things out in time. Maybe the others had the same issue at her age and she just didn't know it because she was a kid and didn't pay much attention to things. No, she had been busy avoiding things that made her uncomfortable and trying to be a child in a pack that did serious business. That time was over and it was up to her to become an actual member of the pack and not just some yahoo. The notion of sparring with Rhetta scared her, but it wasn't like she could spar with the others. They'd go too hard and she'd wind up hurt again. Even the prospects were probably out of the question, at least for now.

"Sure, Rhetta, I'll let you know. I know you know how to not hurt people and while that scares the shit out of me, I know you'll keep me from being thrashed." Aimee smiled and couldn't help but laugh at the notion of her boss being babysat.

"Yeah, that dick needs to be babysat. He's not that fantastic of a guy, but I can handle him. I don't..." She paused and looked down at the ground. Did she want Rhetta to go in with her? Not really. Surely she could handle the boss without backup, right and the likelihood of her roommates being there was pretty slim, right? Right. "I am fine with you just waiting outside. We'll go there and then back to the railyard. The cab will wait for me, as usual when I ask. I know you're irritated that I didn't call anyone from the pack, but I really don't want my business known by everyone."

Meaning, keeping your mouth shut about where I work was what she wanted to say, but she was too scared of Rhetta to actually say that. So, she kept her own mouth closed and carried the two bags out of the bedroom and on out of the apartment. She gave it one final look before limping down the stairs, wishing the damn place had an elevator. She was really starting to ache and knew when they got back to the railyard, she would have to rest again. The cab was out there waiting and she tossed her bags into the trunk and looked over to Rhetta.

"See you at my work then?"
 
"It sounds like we understand each other." Rhetta didn't do Aimee the disservice of disagreeing with any of what she'd said, given that it was more or less accurate. She was not, of course, going to keep any information from the Bloodstones, but she wouldn't make a big deal of it either. Aimee was likely overthinking everything, but again, that wasn't Rhetta's problem. She was just here to make sure the girl stayed alive, and more or less in one piece.

Or at least as many pieces as she was currently in. It didn't escape her notice that Aimee started struggling on the stairs, but Rhetta didn't offer to help her or take either of the bags. Aimee was having her moment of independence and probably wouldn't have appreciated it - and also, Rhetta wanted the freedom of movement in case something did happen.

They made it down unimpeded, though, and to the waiting vehicle - good response time, Rhetta noticed. Some cab companies would screw around with that, if they thought they could get away with it. This one didn't, or didn't know about Aimee, but regardless of what they knew about her, the driver wasn't going to miss the very subtle nod Rhetta gave him as she made her way to her own bike. She didn't need to say anything, or even look directly at him, but it was clear enough even from that small movement that Aimee was hers, and that there had better not be any problems.

"See you there," she replied to Aimee as the girl got in, getting ready to follow and keep an eye on the vehicle - just in case.
 
"Yeah, for the first time, I think we finally understand each other." Aimee was amazed that the two actually did understand each other. If someone asked her if this was possible, she definitely would have said no. Maybe she was actually growing up or maybe she misunderstood Rhetta this entire time. Either way, it was a start of a whole new relationship and she hoped to have the same discussion with the others in the pack. It was time for them to understand that she's not just a liability and that she's not like her father. Even now she feared that they would try to eradicate her even though they worked so hard to save her. Well, Jesse and Colette did. Still that fear was deep inside of her and made her incredibly paranoid.

"Yeah, okay." Climbing into the cab, Aimee gave the address to the driver and leaned back with a very long sigh. Her mind was working on rebuilding the wall around the night of the beating and she hoped no one else would ask her about that night. Wasn't Rhetta asking enough? They could glean the information from her and go from there. The only thing she hoped was that her boss was in a good mood and her roommates were smart enough to leave the area.

"When we get there, wait, okay? I am just heading in to talk to my boss and then I will be right back out, okay?" Aimee instructed the cabbie, glad when he nodded and gave her a thumbs up. It didn't take them any time to get to the Candy Shop and once he parked, she slid out and headed inside. She knew Rhetta would be just outside and as she walked through the club, her eyes roved the crowd, making sure that it was safe for her. Maybe she should have had the other woman come in with her because if she got grabbed, they could easily drag her out the back door.

"Damn..." Shivering at that thought, she hurried through the people, beelining it to her boss who was standing at the bar, bitching at the bartender.

"Max? We need to talk. I was mugged and will be out while I heal." She ignored the look he gave her and sighed when he grabbed onto her arm.

"I don't care what happened to you. You're one of our better dancers and you need to get back to work. I will give you two days." He squeezed her arm, something he always did and tugged her closer. "Any longer than that and you're going to have to find a way to kiss my ass to make me forget how pissed off at you I am. Capiche?"

"...Max, I..." Aimee started, hissing when he squeezed harder.
 
"Call or yell if you need help," Rhetta told Aimee as she was going in. "And in two minutes, text me your mother's middle name, or I'm coming in anyway." Setting an arrangement was always important, in situations that might be dangerous. Aimee undoubtedly knew that she could call if she needed help, but setting up a failsafe condition in case she was lost or unconscious might not have been something she was used to. It was standard practice for enforcers, though, when someone was going in to negotiate whatever the latest agreement was.

She stayed with her bike, letting it idle, because it'd be faster to get around to the back of the building if she needed to do that instead of going in. She'd already listened to make sure there weren't any other vehicles idling in the parking lot, aside from her and the waiting cab. Since it was silent, that meant anyone else was going to have to start their car, if they were going somewhere. It wouldn't take more than a second or two, but seconds were important. Her fingertip stroked the hilt of one of her knives, noting both the texture and the presence of it, just in case she needed to do something with it.

For now, the repetitive motion was enough. Her eyes, she knew, would be edging into bronze, just enough of a start to push her senses up a notch, keening her awareness of the situation in case there was anything to hear or catch the scent of. Two minutes was within her drawback period; she could cancel out and pull back from shifting if need be. She'd gotten fairly good at that, recent years.

There wasn't much else to do, in prison.
 
Two minutes and then Rhetta was going to come in. She didn't want that and tried pulling away from Max. He tightened his grasp much to her disdain and pulled her close enough that she could smell his foul breath. It was unbearable and reminded her of the beating.

"I'm serious girlie, two days. If you're not here, I'll hunt you down and make your life miserable." Max sneered and kept a hold of her arm, fat fingers digging into the flesh.

The joke was on him though. Her life was already miserable. Plus, he'd never find her until she came back to work. She wasn't sure how much more healed she'd be in two days and found herself shaking her head as she spoke, voice soft and unsure. "Max, it's not like I can poof and be healed. It's going to take more than two days. Please just let me go and understand that.

How long had she been inside? Trying to find a clock to get the time, Aimée couldn't help but frown at Max. Use your damn brain, moron was what she wanted to add but she kept quiet and scanned the crowd to make sure no one was looking nefarious. Not that she knew what a nefarious person looked like. That was something else she needed to learn.

"Fine. Take your time healing, but it better not be long. You're one of the few that brings in a lot of money and I need that. I mean, not like you're good at anything else." Max smirked, but didn't let go of her.

"Understood, now let me go." She tugged on her arm and scowled when he kept hold of it. "Now Max." Aimée added, wanting to add an or else. He finally let her go with a laugh and she stormed out of the Candy Shop, body shivering once she was outside.

"Fucking prick..." Glancing over to Rhetta, she gave a thumbs up and climbed into the cab, telling him where to go next.
 
Rhetta didn't ask if everything was good when Aimee came out of the building. The girl was alive, so it was good enough. It wouldn't be ideal, because if this were an ideal sort of situation, Aimee would have been able to handle it with a phone call rather than feeling like she had to show up in person.

She'd gotten it sorted out, though - maybe not ideally, but sorted enough that she came out again with little more than a shiver and a curse. Rhetta still intended to keep an eye on her for a couple days, just in case any new bruises happened to develop. She'd already memorized the pattern of the current set, or at least the ones that she could see.

The cab started into motion, and she followed along, once more keeping an eye out just in case someone wanted to cause trouble along the way. Aimee didn't seem inclined to want to talk about whatever was going on. It was possible she would change her mind later, or possible she would decide o talk anyway, even if she didn't want to. Until then, well, Rhetta hadn't been told to pry, and Aimee was Pack, so she was willing to let it go.
 
Her arm ached from where he had been grabbing it ands she knew without a doubt it was going to bruise. She glared down at her lap as the driver headed to the Railyard. She couldn't tell Rhetta what happened because the woman would react. The urge to tell was pretty intense though. Max would never survive what she did to him and while he would deserve it, it wasn't worth the hassle. She still was under the impression that no one knew where she worked and wanted to keep it that way. Well, besides Rhetta though the woman didn't know just what she did inside. Sighing, she rubbed her eyes with the back of her hand and whimpered, starting to cry.

"Fucking Max... he always knows how to get to me..." Mumbling, she was glad when they got to their destination. She wiped her eyes again and slid out of the cab, paying him before he opened the trunk.

"Thanks!" Attempting to be chipper, Aimée grabbed her two bags with her good hand and moved to the curb to wait on Rhetta.

"Home sweet home..." She wasn't happy, but at least she wasn't sleeping out on the streets.
 
Back
Top