Tierney doesnât break eye contact with her as she leans in, her face a mask of anger. He wonât lose this fight and he wonât back down from it either. He can morn the loss ofâŚwhatever this has been later. Her threat doesnât scare him, even though he thinks he should be, at least, a little worried. âI think youâre under estimating exactly what it is I can do.â He means it as a threat but more because he wants her to be very aware of what he can do and why her doing anything remotely related would be a very bad idea. âDonât do something weâll both regret.â He considers making a show of what he means and elects not to. With a gentle wave of his hand he lets her go, but he keeps it on the table. âI can do far more than what youâve seen already. And believe it or not I donât actually want to hurt you.â
He leans back in his own chair, keeping a careful watch on her and the rest of the bar. He wants to believe her, wants to trust that whatever sheâd done up there in his head wasnât invasiveâŚbut Tierney isnât what someone would call, trusting. It takes a great force of will to swallow past the lump in his throat. He wants to tell her something but he knows who she is and her knowing him? Could lead to some terrible things. After a long, long, moment he speaks again. âMy loyalties lie with the Syndicate As they have for the past twenty some odd years. They are the bulk of my clientele. I was not lying when I said I followed my employers.â He clears his throat. âI think telling you any more than that would be a bad idea. For the both of us.â
He takes a long drink of his whiskey, relishing in the heavy burn as it slides down his throat. The clink of his glass on the table feels definite. âIâm choosing to trust that you didnât pull anything out of my head of use.â He considers it a high honor, though he wonât tell her that. He likes her too much, the months of quiet coffee conversation has done a lot to soften him. The last thing he wants to believe is that sheâd been using him. âYouâve never struck me as an outright liar in the time Iâve known you. Take that as you wish.â
Believe it or not, I donât actually want to hurt you. Once again, Abigail rolls her eyes. âBelieve it or not, Tierney, I canât see you hurting me either. No matter how scary you apparently think you are, I do know you. Maybe not everything, but enough. Iâm confident of that.â She takes another sip of her drink, gathering her thoughts, the war of feelings in her chest like a hive of wasps. âAnd Iâm not underestimating you either. Similar to how Iâve never struck you as an âoutright liarâ-- thank you so much for that, by the way-- youâve never struck me as an innocent kitten either. Iâm sure youâre quite terrifying when you need to be.â The sarcasm isnât quite necessary, but something in the way heâs acting, all sharp and tough like sheâs suddenly become some stranger, rubs her the wrong way. Abigail knows her sniping like this isnât going to get them anywhere either, but. Ugh.
A bad idea. For the both of us. She holds back a frustrated sigh. âGod, youâre difficult. It was a 50-50 chance that youâd be part of the Syndicate, you know. But I guess thatâs something.âÂ
Despite her irritation, she knows that she needs to be more careful with him. At the end of the day she does care about Tierney, dearly even, and wouldnât regret his loss. The thought alone makes her wants to move forward, extend a hand again, but she remembers how well that went over last time so she abstains. It really is like dealing with a specific kind of hurt animal, as likely to flee as to strike. Right now, in this most delicate of situations, she knows to approach with caution, or risk losing his friendship completely.Â
âLook. Tierney.â Abigail puts her hands flat on the table, an open gesture. âI know weâve both made some... regretful choices today. Lashed out. And I can tell from how youâve clammed up that you think this is the end for our friendship. But I donât see why it has to be a big deal.â She leans back, mirroring his posture, as she searches his face. âAll healthy relationships have their boundaries. We donât need to bring work into this, if it would mean losing something good.â


















