Chapter 13: Points of Authority

Ian had been sitting in is car, intently observing Sara’s apartment from a distance when he felt a strange feeling come over him. The Witchblade was sending her another vision, and this time it was a pleasing one. He was sucked into it, but only as a bystander. Sara’s body was locked around none other than her new partner, Van Ray.

Ian snapped out of the vision and instantly began to dial Sara’s number. “What the hell do you want?!” she screamed into his ear.

“Sara?” Ian cautiously questioned, making sure she wouldn’t explode at him again.

“God, Nottingham ! Why do you always pick the best times to bother me?” Sara shot back as she sat up on her couch and looked out the window to see him parked outside.

“Because I felt the Witchblade send you a vision,” he answered shyly.

“Oh,” she retorted. “That was nothing you needed to worry about. It wasn’t a bad one.”

“I know, I saw it,” Ian bluntly replied.

“You what!” Sara could feel her voice rise in her throat. Her cheeks flushed as her embarrassment grew. “How dare you get into my head!” she finally burst, the anger now rising on her flustered face.

“I’m sorry. It was the Witchblade!” he tried to pin it on the thing wrapped around her wrist, which was actually an accurate assumption.

“Oh, blame it on the medieval menace, why don’t ya?”

“It pulled me in trying to tell me something. I think it’s saying that your partner is bad news and that he shouldn’t be trusted.”

“Whatever, Nottingham . You’re just jealous because you’re not the one I’m dreaming about,” Sara said, then realized that speaking her mind was the wrong move to make. Now she was really beginning to feel stupid because she sensed that he was deeply hurt.

“I’m sorry, Sara,” Ian replied. “I won’t bother you again.”

With that, she heard the phone click and the line disconnect. Sara let it slide out of her hands, her ignorance getting to the best of her. How could she treat Ian like that when he had helped her so much in the last few hours? He was the whole reason Sara still had something on Gallo. ‘Smart one, Pezzini,’ she thought, her head hanging low over her shoulders.

Before she had anymore more time to wallow in her regret, Sara received yet another phone call. “When will this thing stop ringing!” she hollered. “What now?” her voice rang loud and clear on the other end.

“Jesus Christ, Sara! Calm down,” Billie yelled back. “What’s the matter with you?”

“Billie, so sorry,” Sara quickly apologized. “I didn’t know it was you.”

“That’s why there’s something called caller ID,” Billie retorted. Getting past that quickly, she asked, “So, how’s everything going? Where’s the money?”

“Well…” Sara trailed off, contemplating how she would tell her boss that a hired hit man was now in possession of it because it was her idea to send him to speak to Gallo in the first place.

“That doesn’t sound good,” Billie quickly observed, hearing the tension in Sara’s voice. “What have you done?”

“A friend of mine from New York decided to drop me a visit. He came up with the idea of sending himself in to talk to Gallo and see what was going to happen now that he knew about us. He was already in Gallo’s inner circle because his former boss knew him. So we sent him in, Gallo placed a hit on me, and now we have even better charges than just selling drugs,” Sara quickly explained, hoping that Billie had only caught bits and pieces of what she was saying.

“What?” came Billie’s stout answer. “You sent in a civilian? Sara! What were you thinking?”

“I was thinking I’d have a better idea where the money was going, but instead, I got a better idea of what Gallo was planning,” Sara said, frustrated that she wasn’t getting through to her. “Besides, Nottingham offered to do it. He said he knew Gallo and was willing to help us.”

“Who’s Nottingham ? You’re friend? I sure as hell hope that he is because you’re both in really big trouble when I get back,” Billie scolded, hanging up. Sara looked at the phone in her hands, then let it fall onto the couch as she lay on the cushion, making herself comfortable again. She had to figure out how to get Billie to trust her with this assignment. After all, she had hand picked Sara for the job.

But as soon as she closed her eyes to doze off again the image of those beautiful blue eyes and gorgeous smile popped into her head once more. Sara shot up like a rocket to glance down at the Witchblade, which lay dormant on her wrist. There wasn’t even a hint that it sent her that vision before Ian and Billie called. Sara sighed and stood up. It was about time that she headed over to the gym to work through everything that was going on in her head at the moment.

“Now if I can find where one is,” Sara said aloud as she entered her bedroom and looked through her closet of brand new clothing that had been so kindly provided and pulled out a pair of black track shorts and a tight fitting white tank top. She came up with the idea of asking her super about the gym and headed downstairs as soon as she changed.

The weather outside was perfect, not to warm and not too cold either. Sara could instantly feel her mood lift as she walked to the office on the first floor of the building. With her mind on the weather, she didn’t notice the person that walked in front of her. Within seconds, she was on the ground, her rear end aching from the fall.

“Watch where you’re going, ass hole!” Sara hissed as she dusted herself off and started to get up again.

“Maybe you should do the same,” came the quick retort from a very familiar voice. Sara’s head quickly shot over to the person who had fallen in front of her, eyes narrowing.

“Van,” she seethed. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“I live here,” he replied. “Unfortunately.”

“Yeah, unfortunately.” Sara stood up, making an effort not to wince with pain as she began walking towards the building’s main office. ‘Why the hell did Billie put me here? To punish me for leaving New York and not working out my problem with Jake?’ Sara began to wonder as she limped along, hoping Van wouldn’t notice.

“Ooh, did little Sara hurt herself when she fell?” he taunted, mockingly.

Faster than the eye could see, Sara spun around, her arm pressing up against Van’s neck as the rest of her body pinning him to the side of the building. She held him tighter against the wall, blocking the air from getting in or out of his lungs, effectively choking him. “What did you say?” she slowly questioned, the anger in her voice heavy and pronounced.

“Nothing,” Van coughed. “You’re… hurting… me.”

“Apologize,” Sara ordered, squeezing just a little tighter.

“I’m… sorry,” he barely whispered. She could see that Van was beginning to show signs of oxygen deprivation, and let go. He rubbed his neck, taking in large gasps of air and wishing that he hadn’t made that comment.

“Never piss me off again,” Sara warned as she turned to go. ‘He’s nothing but a little prick! Why the hell would the Witchblade show me making out with him?’ She shivered at the thought, then proceeded to walk into the office and ask where the closest gym was. She was fortunate to find out that there was one on the first floor of the building.

Minutes later, Sara walked into the gym to find it was barely crowded that early in the morning. She made a point to wake up around six just so she could take advantage of the solitude. But as she glanced around to see who else was there, here eyes fell on the one person she was beginning to wish was dead at the moment.

“Are you stalking me, Pezzini?” Van yelled from across the room where he stood near the punching bag, gloves on, when their eyes met. “Or do you just wanna pick another fight?”

“None of the above,” Sara spat as she came up beside him. “Unless you’re up for another fight.”

“Uh-huh,” he almost laughed. “You think you can kick my ass?”

“Oh, I know I can kick your ass. As a matter of fact, I’ve kicked several guys’ asses. I guess you forgot to read that in my file,” she taunted. “It’s in the ‘Achievements’ section, right under 11th Precinct charity boxing matches. Hmm… I wonder why you neglected to pick that up.” Van glared at her as she continued. “So, you wanna come and try to kick my ass? Because I’m up for it if you are.”

“I’m up for it,” Van retorted, trying to act macho about it.

Sara had a wide smile on her face and a gleam in her eyes. This was going to be a sucker match. “Bring it on, Ray,” she said, putting on her own pair of gloves and her head gear then heading over to the boxing ring in the middle of the gym. Sara waited for him to catch up to her. She watched as Van meticulously took off his shirt, laying it on the bench in front of him. As he turned to face her, she saw how nicely sculpted his body actually was. If Sara didn’t watch herself, he’d easily catch her drooling. She pried her eyes away and began to focus on what was about to go down.

Seconds later they stood face to face, poised and ready to strike at one another. Sara noticed the fear in Van’s eyes, and knew to take advantage of it. She delivered the first bone shattering blow to the right side of his face, knocking him off balance for a couple of seconds before he quickly regained his footing and swung at her.

Sara reeled when she felt Van’s fist hit her square in the jaw. She had definitely underestimated his strength, but quickly recuperated to get in a couple more punches that easily had him begging for mercy. But the boy just wouldn’t give up. Van kept coming after her even when she nearly knocked him out. It would only be a matter of time before she delivered that final blow. And when it came, it came hard and fast straight to the left side of his head, knocking Van to his feet and making groan in pain. He rolled over on his side, barely able to see straight.

“You just got you ass kicked by a girl, Van Ray. How does it feel?” Sara asked victoriously.

Van groaned, pulling off his glove and giving her the finger. Sara laughed at him then strode away to finish her workout. She was definitely feeling better now that she had relieved some of her stress.

Chapter 14: When Things Go South

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