it had become tradition for the pair of them to get together for a movie night, binging various films while they ordered in. they’d take turns switching between their apartments, and this time around it was her turn. honestly, it was nights like these she eagerly looked forward too, at times they seemed to be the only thing keeping her going. “theo~!” she hums ecstatically as she hears her door unlock, knowing it was theo as he was one of few people who had a key. she briefly glances over her shoulder, eyebrows furrowing for a brief moment. “you’re still in your work clothes ??” she can’t help but scold him a little, shaking her head at him in a teasing manner. “go get comfy, i have some of your clothes in my top draw, y’know the one that gets stuck sometimes.” she waves her hand at him, mimicking a ‘shooing’ motion. she took sleepover night very seriously, comfortable clothing only. “go on then, i’ll get our beers ready.”
Theo scowled, pausing his tug on his tie as Frankie scolded him. “It’s not like I came straight from a meeting here, per your it’s an emergency text.” The lawyer, of course, had known the text had been a ruse simply to get him there. He hadn’t been the most reliable as of late, what, with Bria re-emerging. Considering he had all but bore his undying broken heart to the blonde over the course of their friendship, he wasn’t exactly chomping at the bit to admit how easily he’d allowed the love back in. “But fine.” Tossing the tie over his shoulder as if it was the softest hair flipping instead, he made his way up the hall. Into her bedroom he roamed, pulling open the drawer he knew held his clothes, but when he reached inside for the sweats on top, his fingertips brushed something quite different at the back. Theo stilled, heart hammering against his chest as he retrieved what appeared to be a plastic medicine bottle. Without bothering to close the drawer again, he turned on his heel and all but stomped back down the hall and into the kitchen. Holding the evidence up between his thumb and pointer finger, his head angled. “Considering forgetfulness is a symptom of these, I’m not surprised you forgot to move them before I got here.”
❝ i’ve never been good at emotional stuff. except anger. i’m good at anger. ❞
— with 𝐒𝐄𝐁𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐀𝐍 𝐁𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐄𝐓 / @ofvagabxnds
𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐒𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐋𝐘 crept upon her soft features as dark eyes were fixed on the man’s figure , not really knowing why he’d say something like this to her. “ anger ? ” , robin repeated just to be sure , carefully closing the distance between them & gently placing her hand on his shoulder , her head slightly leaned to the side as she looked at him with concern . unfortunately , it was obvious that her hand was slightly trembling since the thought wouldn’t leave her alone that the anger might because of her . and while the new diablo had nearly a solution to help everyone with unwanted emotions , she couldn’t deal with them herself . “ is it because of… ” , quickly , the woman stopped herself , not really wanting to know an answer . he’d let her know anyway if it was because of her . “ did you know dandelion root tea helps with anger ? i have it at the back of my shop , if you want me to get it. you can try to relax , and maybe talk to me what’s wrong just… you know , like in the old days . ”
Sebastian thought of moving away from her touch, but something in him combatted the thought. When her hand covered his shoulder, he was glad he tempered the instinct. A calmness spread from the contact, enough to make his own brow furrow in confusion at the word she repeated, and then he realized the quaking wasn’t from him. Her own extremity vibrated against him, and out of instinct, he covered her fingers with his own hand. As she spoke, he thought to prod her, make her continue, but instead he dropped his hand, face contorting at the idea of whatever she was describing. “I have plenty of methods of handling the rage that don’t involve drinking muddy water,” he said with a laugh, head shaking. His gaze fell to the ground between him as he pondered the idea of her second option. Then, his head shook. “Nah, I wouldn’t want to burden you with it, really. It’s bad enough I have to deal with it, and it’s my shit to carry, you know?” Raising his eyes to her, it almost felt...familiar. Bash paused a moment, then continued with, “Actually, have we met? Because I’m getting the strangest feeling of Deja vu right now.”
@ofvagabxnds ‘for some godforsaken reason, i’m still here, like i’ve always been before.’ / easton + calla
the look he regards her with is one of confusion and worry, at best. it’s clear to see she hasn’t been the same since the mess that had been the fight between connor and leo. he hadn’t seen much of it at the time, but he had heard plenty since and he was suitably worried about calla more than the two of them. they could handle themselves, but calla was a lot softer and sweeter than they were. “yeah, tell me about it.” he folds his arms over his chest and watches her carefully. “you know, i mean that. you can tell me about what’s bothering you if you want, calla. you’re here for a reason, ain’t ya? what’s going on in that pretty little head of yours?” easton reaches out and takes her hand gently, smoothing his thumb over her knuckles in attempt to soothe her.
She knew she shouldn’t have come to visit Easton, not with the crap stirred up at the present moment, but it wasn’t like she could go complain to anyone else just yet. Sitting cross-legged in the shop floor, she shook her head before turning to look up at their hands. He hadn’t even known about her relationship with his brother before the incident, and here he was trying to console her despite it. “Does everyone know now?” She asked, raising her gaze to him, her voice soft, hesitant at best. It had been days since she last saw Connor, since he left her in the hotel room with the realization of his choice in his wake. “I guess it doesn’t matter anymore.” she pulled her hand free so she could stand. Dusting her skirt off, she shrugged her shoulders. “He broke it off. I don’t know if he told any of you, but, yeah.” The last word was soft, barely concealing the tears that seemed always there, always lingering since Con left her. Turning back to Easton, she wiped her hands under her eyes and reinforced a pale smile. “Wanna get high with me so I can avoid feelings and you can avoid work?”
he’s laying on the cold steel bench inside his cell, leg swinging idly as an arm covers his eyes. he expected to be arrested, in the grand scheme of things he didn’t particularly care. what’s another assault charge or two added to his record ?? it was more an annoyance than anything, the cops should be used to his violent antics by now. god – who the hell was he going to call to bail his ass out. maeson came to mind, but she had enough on her plate as is. the last thing she needed was to pick up her enforcer from jail – again. he really did not want to add to her stress, he’d prolong it for as long as he possibly could. before he could continue with his mental list, a cop approached his cell – instructing him his bail was posted. confusion would be the easy explanation to describe how he currently felt.
he glanced around the precinct, searching out for a reaper or a lawyer of some kind. doing so, he barley noticed someone was approaching him and briefly brushed it off until she began to speak to him. he tried his best to listen, despite the confusion plastered across his face, glancing whichever direction she seemed to gesture towards. “wha--” the mention of a baby causes immediate panic, attempting to interrupt but halted once a finger was raised. he blinks rapidly for a short moment, attempting to retain all the information dumped onto him, as he hesitantly takes hold of her hand – lacing their fingers together for good measure. “let’s get going then…baby.” perhaps the pet-name was unnecessary, but he was in unfamiliar territory here. he gently tugs at her hand, guiding them out of the dreaded building.
.
Though she was used to flying by the seat of her own pants, she had never truly needed to depend on someone else to pull her lies off. Of course, she had never used the last bit of her own money to bail a complete stranger out of jail before, either, so as far as Liv was concerned, she was doing pretty well. Not only had she managed to finesse the man in front of her out of waiting for actual justice to come around and unlock his cell, she had also convinced him to buy into her insanity without an argument to hold them up. Her tongue swiped over her lips before a laugh spread on her face, and only then did she toss a wink back at the blonde officer behind the desk as the tall man dragged them both from the musky precinct.
As they traipsed down the stone steps to the street’s edge, Liv removed her hand from his, but quickly grabbed the seam of his cut to direct him around the corner and behind the hedges that were so pristinely groomed. She didn’t stop, but rather set a rather quick pace for them to walk. “I think they towed your bike, so I’m sorry about that. I couldn’t figure out how to start it, and they wanted to see a license I didn’t have-” she shook her head. “Anyway, I really tried.” Stopping at the light that signaled traffic was coming, she turned to look up at him. “And at the risk of asking a favor after dropping bad news, listen.” She squared her shoulders and held her hand out. “I heard you say the name Tank before you knocked the piss out of that beat cop, and I, well, I think he’s-” licking her lips again, she laughed. “I know this sounds crazy, which is why I’m struggling with it so much.”
“yeah, kinda hard to believe half of them don’t even look like that anymore.” polo was still kind of new when it come to things related to tank, especially considering that he spent most of his time since arriving to town being a fucking mess instead of with his old man. he felt as if he were closer to ale, dom or celine than his dad. but he blamed on daddy issues; it was hard to forget the fact that tank gave him his last name and had disappeared from his life completely. he laughs softly, almost sadly at her words because he knows that feeling better than anyone. he hates that it feels painful to still think of tank and everything he’d lost because he’d been nowhere to be seen when it mattered. “actually, one of them is my dad. i met him when i was twenty, but i still feel like i don’t know him, you know? i finally put a face to the name, but i don’t think i’ll ever be able to know who the fuck he really is. not as a dad, at least.” he shrugs, the amount of alcohol in his body letting go of his filter. after all, he’s talking to a complete stranger, probably someone that stopped to eat and will leave the town in a few hours.
.
Olivia began the listening with the mindset that he was just another stranger in a bar trying his hardest to feel less lonely. How often had she been the same? Reaching out when her own thoughts were too loud, too condescending...and yet, his words gave her pause. The fluorescent lighting above caught the honied specks in her wide eyes as they slanted towards him. “Yeah?” Her reply was thoughtful, distracted as she looked back to the picture. Olivia Escarra spent her whole life avoiding sharing any real tidbits of herself with anyone, but in the last few weeks she had been forced to share more and more in order to learn the answers she had been running from (or to, depending on levels of honesty). She bit down on her lip, a rough attempt to push back the surge of fear she felt as she opened her mouth again. “That’s kind of astronomical considering I think one of them happen to my dad, too.” Raising her hand, she placed her finger on the biker named Tank. “That one, actually.”
unfortunately for those that had the misfortune of wandering their way right into his very blood stream, there was little they could do to escape it. til death do us part reimagined, and they didn’t even have the little white church to vouch for the love that had remained for years, regardless of time and space having the audacity to separate the two. maybe that’s why he still seemed cocky as ever, confident in the fact that, what was his, would always remain as such, regardless of the damage done. corner of a grin offered before the door even opened, head tilted right into the downward angle of the nod, as broad shoulders demanded the rights top occupy frame. “what, no welcome party?” it was just past three in the morning, and the darkness was the perfect excuse to maintain the cover he’d needed, the one that said she really had been more victim than victor.
What was fear other than a lack of knowledge? Staring at her ceiling, she knew the noise at the door was him before her brain processed anything else. Sliding from the bed, she hardly stopped to grab the robe that matched her silken pajamas, even despite the cool chill lingering in her loft. Her hand paused at the handle, wondering if it was her own mischievous heart playing tricks on her, but the logic was short lived. A quick grasp and turn allowed the door to swing in, and as she hoped thought, there he was, lounging in the frame like the last time they spoke hadn’t been with a gun pressed to her head. Libba took a deep, steadying breath, ignoring his baiting question as she stared at him through sooty lashes. On the outside she was calm, no signs of the one million emotions she felt breaking the surface, and only after she raised and set her chin did she speak. “How are you here?” She asked, needing more than anything to know if she was now harboring a fugitive to add to the list of laws she had broken for the man in front of her.
@ofvagabxnds said : ❝ i do seem to attract the sum of the earth. ah — no offense . ❞ / theo & vanessa
𝐓𝐎 𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐎𝐖𝐍 𝐒𝐔𝐑𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐄 , she had to laugh at his remark , shaking her head in disbelief . “ none taken , i’m not exactly a rare of sunshine , so your description fits quite perfectly . ” her attention was drawn towards him while her fingernails were typing on her laptop . “ and i mean , i’m not exactly good influence either . i’m taking you down the illegal road with me , after all . ” another laughter rolled over her tongue , as she finally closed her work from today & instantly reached over to the bottle of wine she had gotten herself before the day started . “ speaking of working together : do you have any new gossip i could use ? i’m sure your clients love to talk to you . at the moment , i preferably want to hack into the reapers’ system , as i do believe they might hide something in regards to that fake death that happened . might even share the alcohol if you have good information for me . ”
The corners of Theo’s fingers ticked up at her brazen attempt. He probably shouldn’t have found it amusing. She was asking him to breech the one code of his job he held to such a holy standard, that confidentiality agreement that protected both he and his clients from iron cages. He should have been offended, and yet, all he could imagine was how silly the idea of free alcohol was to a boy who grew up with the keys to a city within his grasp. “Oh, Nessa,” his head shook as he leaned back in his seat. His arms spread wide on the back of the couch, feet stretched out and crossed at the ankles before him. “Is that the going rate for secrets these days? A bottle of semi-precious bourbon?”
@ofvagabxnds said : ❝ i can handle this. i’m tough. i grew up with nuns. ❞ / calla & camilla
“ 𝐈 𝐆𝐑𝐄𝐖 𝐔𝐏 with nuns ” , she mocked the other woman as she had encountered her in the club house . theoretically , camilla wasn’t supposed to be here as she wasn’t officially a diablo right now , but it was still her home & she had to visit some other members . however , she didn’t expect to run into the female she never was quite fond of , even if she had allowed her into the club back in the days . something was just off about her & didn’t fit into the group . “ and ? what did you learn from it ? do you know how to properly throw a fist ? how to block a punch ? how to handle a gun ? & more importantly , how to use it on someone ? ‘cause i’m pretty sure you don’t. ” camilla didn’t mean to sound so aggressive , but everything that had happened after being shot still got her on edge . she reacted to everything more emotional than before . “ so , seriously , please enlighten me . what makes you think you can handle being a diablo ? besides growing up with nuns , obviously . ”
The acid in Camilla’s tone made the groupie fall still in her tracks. Her own quip had been offered in humor, a smile lighting up her face as she placed trash in the oversized bin she drug behind her. Then, each additional comment landed like invisible punches, forcing the brunette to cower, shoulders shrinking, brow furrowing, guilt dripping from her like she’d just stepped out of a downpour, until finally the onslaught was over. Her eyes sought solace in the cracked tiled under her bare feet, and it was a long, deafeningly silent moment before she found her voice again. “Someone has to stay behind and pick up the place while the rest of you are out there...throwing punches, or whatever.” She bent to retrieve a few bottles from the floor and dropped them in the bin with a pointed clank before she dragged the can a few feet to the left. “I’m also here when everyone needs a soft hand to patch them up, so if you’ll excuse me.” Calla had planned on leaving it there, allowing her answer to be simple, because she didn’t want to give Camilla more reason to yell at her, but then she stopped, unable to move before she turned to say, “And, like, I guess that isn’t a lot to you,” her eyes dropping to the other’s toes before slowly rising. “But, I like to think it means something to the ones who are still here.”
@ofvagabxnds said : ❝ you gave me a goddamn heartattack. ❞ / bash & camilla
𝐒𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐈𝐃𝐍'𝐓 𝐄𝐗𝐏𝐄𝐂𝐓 to see him . she wasn’t able to see him , to look him in the eyes after what she had done to him . but camilla knew she had to turn around once he heard his voice . a voice that used to give her so much comfort back in her teenage years , a voice that could calm her down when no one else was able to . a voice belonging to the probably only person where she doesn’t immediately think of a diablo or a reaper . someone that kept her neutral . “ bash… ” , she mumbled in shock , slowly turning around to him , awkwardly scratching the back of her neck . where was she even supposed to start ? nervously , she bit down on her lower lip , her heartbeat rapidly going faster . a situation like this was incredibly rare for her & she didn’t know what to do . where to start . what to say . after a few more seconds of silence , she finally managed to speak up , completely ignoring his words and probably did the worst she could do . not talk about what happened . “ it’s good to see you . how have you been ? what did i miss ? ”
He had followed her a few blocks just to be sure. Sometimes his mind liked to play tricks on him, make him see things that simply weren’t true. His brother waltzing into a burger joint, or, on that morning at least, Camilla strolling down the boulevard with the wind in her hair. No matter how many times he’d wiped his eyes, thought, she had not disappeared. She mingled with people, bought something from a street vendor, and when he’d finally grown the courage to speak up, she reacted by coiling away from the sound of his voice. He watched the realization of her error wash over her like the color red, or maybe that was his own anger boiling to the top. “Don’t do that,” he warned, voice low, a warning of what was looming under the surface. “Don’t act like...like..” He had to laugh, had to unclench his jaw and the fist at his side. Punching his way out of this wouldn’t solve anything, he reminded himself. “Your funeral,” he replied, voice deadpan as his head tilted. “But, considering you weren’t in that box they buried, I imagine it’s me that missed something, huh.”
@ofvagabxnds said : ❝ this isn’t our fight. it’s my fight. ❞ / lorenzo & camilla
𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐑𝐔𝐍𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄 𝐓𝐎𝐎𝐊 a deep breath , trying her hardest to stay calm . he had no right to speak to her like that . sure , he had only joined the diablos once she apparently ‘ died ’ & she hasn’t officially been a part of the gang since , but the diablos still were her family . they were still her home . and she would come back one day , just not now . she needed to figure out who tried to kill her before she could risk the danger of not only putting herself in danger again , but also the rest of the gang . but someone that joined the gang right after she left ? it was suspicious to her & it was more than obvious that camilla didn’t like the man that was standing in front of her in the club house . she only visited because she wanted to pick up some old stuff , but he had to interfere . “ let me give yoou some advice : a diablo never fights alone . so , i don’t care if you say it is your fight or not . if another diablo is involved , i’m involved because i’ll do everything in my power to protect every single one of them . but you… ” she hissed through gritted teeth while she closed the distance between them with some steps towards him. “ i don’t know you. and quite frankly , i don’t like you. but yet , you are a diablo . and i’ll fight by your side , even if i’m currently not one . and there’s not a goddamn thing you can do about it , so keep your mouth shut , will you ? ”
He had to give her intuition credit. From the first time they had interacted, she had bristled against him. Lorenzo had been so taken back by the idea that she could see through his lies that he had allowed her to access that volatile part of him, the mouthy side that showed no remorse for his actions. That, apparently, had not been the way to make her back off. He watched with practiced nonchalance as she crossed the room to snarl up at him, but he couldn’t quite wipe all of the amusement from his features. Holding his hands up as if to placate her, he replied, “Alright, alright, don’t lose your head.” He turned, leaving her where she stood as he stacked two boxes and picked them up. Turning, he held them out for her to take. “I’m the one who bought sixteen boxes of the wrong brake pads, but if you want to come with me and argue with the little cashier, I won’t stop you.”
The beer in her hand was cold as hazel eyes were fixed on the screen in front of her. The game really wasn’t all that interesting to Athena, but it gave her a distraction from the crap that was going on around her. Men who had come in from their truck routes enjoying a drink before heading in for the night. Women who wanted to come down and find their next prince charming. Men who didn’t know the meaning of the word no. The last type was all too common around the town and it bugged Athena knowing how…pushy they were.
The conversation next to her was swiftly turning into one of those. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see the woman looking around like she wanted to cut and run, but the man beside her wouldn’t allow it. Wrapping her lips around the bottle, Athena took a sip and spoke without her eyes leaving the screen.
“Hey man. Obviously she isn’t interested, so why don’t you pack up and head out?”
@ofvagabxnds
It wasn’t like she was unused to men and their heedless words when it came to their game, and yet there she sat like some proverbial bump on a log as the mouth breather went on and on about the engine of some car she couldn’t care less about. A normal, more stably grounded Elizabeth James Rhodes wouldn’t have had to use anything more than a withering look to end the torture. As it were, she felt she was none of those things as she nursed on her Manhattan and gave few polite smiles. That was a mistake. Of course, the man took what she thought was obvious uninterest as an invitation to try harder, which meant things like personal space went out the window. He moved closer, close enough for her to smell days worth of alcohol on his breath, and just as she’d been close to blowing the top off of her manicured ruse, a voice cut through the air.
Both her dark and his bloodshot eyes found the source. Libba appeared intrigued by the sudden intervention, but the man was disgruntled, obviously not up for the spar it would take to stay where he was, and so after grumbling a few expletives under his breath, he teetered away without so much as a backwards glance. She watched him go, finally turning back to her hero. “I’m guessing that’s not something new to you?”
@ofvagabxnds ‘you can’t trust a single thing i say.’ / oliver + calanthe
he just looked at her for a long moment. the fact that he had basically had to corner her in the clubhouse said more about this situation than he cared to consider, but he was annoyed. he was frustrated and angry and it wasn’t even so much with calla but the situation itself. well, partly with calla because she had been avoiding him like the plague and he wanted an explanation. that was all. just to talk and put everything on the table, because she certainly wasn’t offering up anything willingly. “usually, i’d tell you you’re full of shit. but lately, i don’t know if that’s right or if you’re actually telling me the truth right now. ‘cause if you’re telling me the truth now, that seems to suggest you can’t be trusted and i don’t believe that.” it truly was not that he didn’t believe that and more that he wouldn’t. not then, at least. “you might not want to talk about this but we’re going to. come on.”
Confrontation wasn’t exactly her style. Calla preferred to let things smooth out on their own while she waited it out on the clouds of feigned ignorance, daisy chains, and glassy eyes. Everyone who knew her knew her avoidance habits, so she even rarely felt guilt about any of it. That, of course, all came to a screeching halt when Oliver’s dark eyes landed on hers without the normal softness she was so good at inspiring. What was worse? Her nerves made her say the first thing she thought of, an admittance of guilt, laughed off by her, but obviously grating the president’s own nerves as he stared down at her. Wincing, the brunette’s shoulders deflated before she gave a solemn nod. Moving in front of him, she walked through the double doors that held the room the club usually convened in. Before she was even inside, she turned on her toes, the hem of her dress swirling wide as she stopped right in front of his taller form. “I know you’re mad, but just let me explain before you start lecturing me, alright?”
@ofvagabxnds “Yeah, you just take all the time you need, not like I’m going anywhere.“ ; Theo and Gemma
It’s not that she trying to get out of this situation —- theo has found a place on the roster of people gemma wouldn’t actually mind being sober around. it’s the sobriety in general which she is trying to avoid. she is always trying to avoid. “ i’ll be like, one second! “ she calls over her shoulder before she slips into the women’s washroom. she is barely two seconds; it’s down to a science and mechanical movements, an acrylic dipped into the little bag and it’s all inhaled. it’s stashed back in her purse and a small shudder crawls up her spine, then she grins and ducks out of the stall. theo is easily found again and she slips into his lap, her grin faded and her pupils dilated. “ see, barely two seconds. i’d never leave you, teddy. “
For a man who prided himself on his ample patience, Theo also held an acute awareness of how short that rope felt that day. The edge to his voice felt foreign hanging in the air of the club, but that tension seemed to fade when when she appeared in front of him. As she drew nearer, though, as he noted the wide set black orbs that minimized the colored ring around her eyes, the progress made receded rapidly. “No, you just needed a little bump to get you through it, mm?” It wasn’t her fault, the his sour mood seemed to bleed between them. Theo wasn’t entirely sure he was entitled to the rights to his current emotional distress, and yet that fact did little to stop his petulance. He reached up to push the hair from her face, head shaking. He wasn’t sure if he’d come to rain news on her head or use her for the distraction she’d come to represent. “You okay, Gem?”
( YAYA DACOSTA. 34. FEMALE. SHE/HER. ) in texas, ELIZABETH RHODES is more commonly known as LIBBA. they’ve been living in stratford for NINE YEARS and currently ACCOUNTANT. some say they are INTENSE & ANALYTICAL but i’m more inclined to believe those that say they’re EAGER & DYNAMIC. if you walk by their house, you can sometimes hear WHO IS SHE ? by I MONSTER playing from their window. ( unforgiving instructions for the perfect cup of tea, a wayward drop of scarlet on a pristine white collar, heeding black cats that cross paths, and the lingering scent of gardenia on damp skin. )
Negative Traits: Eager to Please, Analytical, Intense, Sensitive
Goals/Desires: She thinks her current goal is to find a way to make it work with her husband, but that is only a projected (and faithless) hope. Her inner desire is to do something more with her life besides balancing the town bankrollers’ checkbooks.
Fears: Complacency, Incompetence
Hobbies: The gun range, Exercising, Learning German
Quirks: Can’t write or present or generally handle a piece of paper that is bent or wrinkled, stupidly superstitious, has a very specific tea order.
BIOGRAPHY
(TW murder)
Elizabeth James Carmichael had no choice but to be perfect. Perhaps if her sister had lived up to at least a quarter of the expectations their parents set forth, there would have been leeway left for Libba. No, Bridget had better things to do than to live in the shadow of their family name, which was unfortunate for anyone who stressed over the cleanliness of it. She never wanted the pressure, the responsibility, but rather enjoyed the bottomless bank accounts to fuel her less than high class habits. That’s why Libba was expected to never step a toe out of line.
She had the grades, the tenacity, and the drive to be anything she set her sights on. Money, her father said, would never go out of style, and together they worked to make sure Libba got into a college that labeled her pristine with her masters in Accounting. What Libba never saw coming was the pitfall her parents took the year she finished school. Money, as her father said, ruled the world, and they were suddenly out of it. Deep and promising talks behind locked doors eventually landed Libba in a deal that she never asked for, nor was she given a chance to refuse. She married Vincent Rhodes six months after graduation, and thanks to her mother’s friend at the local society magazine, they were labeled longtime sweethearts.
As always, Libba acted the part of the doting and loving wife, even if her husband did not. He owned an accounting firm in a smaller town, Stratford, where Libba moved to after the wedding, even despite knowing how her husband was awful with numbers and only inherited the firm from his father. Day in and day out she tapped away, handling her clients as well as her husband’s, all while he galavanted with other women and did his best to piddle their fortune away. There was no surprise it wasn’t long before her mind began to wander. She had always loved computers, finding inspiration in each line of code, so it only came natural that she began to dabble in the software she came in contact with. Too soon she breezed past her own company’s mainframe and began snooping in those of her clients. Mostly she just looked, occasionally removing viruses so she could study them at her leisure, but never once leaving a trace behind.
Libba grew brave with her illegal activities, too, which probably didn’t help keep her pastime a secret. A stranger turned associate caught on to her side business, but instead of turning her in, something extraordinary happened. He offered her a job. One, small role in a job, at least. Who cared if she didn’t know the details? She was hooked. Libba tried to refrain, telling herself that she only helped him because he had dirt on her, but deep down she knew better. It wasn’t her guilty conscience that made her fall into bed with him, and no amount of self righteous inner monologue would change that fact, nor did it stop her from seeking him out again. In fact, she only managed a matter of days before she sought him out and made it known she was available for other jobs...if he needed her. Despite her lacking finesse, it worked. Guns was the game, not that it mattered.
Libba could have convinced herself murder was okay as alive as she felt. The more time she spent with him and away from her husband, the more herself she felt. For the first time in her life, she was free, making her own decisions and thriving in the center of the chaos. Slowly she began loosening her grip on the version of herself that she always tried to project. Love was attainable, within her reach, and so intoxicating she hardly minded when it got her husband killed. Of course, all of those years of pretending meant she was ready to put on the show it took to bury him. One job gone wrong was all it took to bring the fantasy to a screeching halt, though. No longer the accomplice, Libba suddenly found herself a victim in the very crime she was helping commit. Long after the police lights faded and the dust settled, her cohort was behind bars, and her family knew only of the horror of the last job.
As soon as anyone would let her, she returned to work. It was easy to move on when no one knew the truth, but the burning wonder never disappeared. To her, it had been the most liberating and exhilarating experience of her life, breaking the law, being liberated from her husband, all of it. She was a logical person, but the fact that she ended up a hostage and her accomplice the one behind bars simply didn’t add up. Every day she goes through what she knew, and every day she comes up empty handed. She lives her normal life, playing the widow, trying to patch up the holes left behind from her escapades, and drowning in a sea of monotony, wondering if she let the spark slide by without putting up a fight.
TLDR;
Libba Rhodes was born to a wealthy family in Dallas. She was the perfect child out of necessity, but when her family hit financial trouble her senior year of college, she was forced to marry for money. She moved to Stratford to become an accountant at her husband’s firm where she did most of the work and he cheated on her and spent their money. Because she liked to illegally hack business software, she drew attention that linked her with an arms dealer. That she then started an affair with and he killed her husband. Plot twist: he flipped the script on her during the last job and ended up in jail after he used her as a hostage.
TIDBITS
Hasn’t spoken to her sister in nearly a decade.
When her husband died she sold his house and moved into a loft apartment.
She has a pet canary named Alfred.
Her favorite color is ice blue.
Surprisingly good at karaoke.
Could do without Christmas, but does but up a Halloween tree.
Hyper-organizer when in a good headspace, chaotic indifference when stressed.
there was something about his mere presence that set all the alarms in hayley’s head off — not in a bad way, but enough to leave her shaken each time. she’d known it from the moment she had first laid eyes on him, but the blonde hadn’t thought it would be this intense … or last this long. the best she can do is pretend it doesn’t affect her nearly as much as it does, and thankfully her job has given her enough experience with the opposite that she can wing this and hopefully make it work. hopefully. “ well … i am. ” she stated with a grin, leaning closer for no other reason than to be close to him. lorenzo was intoxicating, which made him dangerous, and while hayley was well aware of that, for once she couldn’t bring herself to stay away. digits trace along his jawline slowly, a smile tugging at her lips as her eyes meet his. “ are you inviting me to your room at the clubhouse, kane? ”
He wasn’t here to make friends. Wasn’t that rule number one? Lorenzo heard it every time he met up with his handler. The problem was he had grown so used to explaining away any suspicious routine that had come of his visits to find the blonde in front of him that there was no real push back to scare him away. Besides, he wouldn’t call her a friend, nor would he refer to Gale as one. In fact, he avoided labeling either woman as anything other than what he felt when he was with them. Lorenzo was still, giving but a slow blink her touch chased fire down his throat and into his chest. Her question earned a small twitch of his lips before he answered. “As much as I enjoy your flexibility, I only offer out of courtesy.” His own words, ironically, were enough for the smile to grow to full wattage. “It was even wash day today, so the sheets probably don’t smell that bad.”
pulling her own sunglasses off the bridge of her nose and onto the top of her head, lu looked over at her coworker and ( as much as she would deny if confronted ) friend with a matching grin. ‘ considering you probably cannot name the last girl who you slept with, your judgmental tone has no effect on me. ’ she bopped her head along to the music, proud that even the small things seemed to annoy him, as she intended. ‘ it’s something about you theo, and only you because if you ask anyone else in this town, i’m angel. una princesa. ’ she shrugged, staring ahead out the window as they zoomed past the suburban houses and made their way to the office. ‘ i actually have been having tea in the mornings, thank you very much. way more relaxing and yes, before you ask, i will be one those tea drinking people that won’t shut up about it. also, it’s a pretty ugly car. ’
The corner of his lip teased up in a smile. He couldn’t blame her for the jab any more than he could see her believing any rebuttal he had to offer, which only reinforced his decision not to give one. Assumptions were an easy way for him to fly under any radar, and in the moment Theo very much felt the need for staying mum. Instead, he laughed as she danced her way through dragging his person through the mud. He knew she had a point, that to anyone else this argument was moot before it began, but he felt a different inclination for his stance. Not everyone was privy to the malicious intent she served him, the sass that met every one of his questions. Perhaps he could have curbed the habit in the beginning, but if there was anything Theo found himself soft for, it was a pretty face toting a sharp tongue. “All venom and herbal tea, huh?” He barely let off the gas as he made an abrupt right turn. Before her admission, or maybe it was the second insult to his baby, he had held no intention of getting his own coffee. There was a nervous boy in the office who did such a good job at not only getting his order correct, but also providing much needed amusement to his mornings that he had grown into a bit of a lazy habit of sending for it. He almost thanked Lu for breaking that monotony, but instead he leaned on the gas and sighed. “Fantastic. Riveting conversation to drown out the music while we wait in line at the shop.”
