Chapter Text
Tick-tick-tick goes Beth’s heart. Stopping to stare at the door, she hears a car leaving the parking lot while she collects himself.
Maybe she should’ve left a note for Dean, sent Annie a text, telling someone . Instead she takes a deep breath before pushing the door open to step inside.
There’s no music playing and the click-clack of her pumps seems to resonate across the room, her tight pencil skirt shortening her stride as it's hidden beneath her thick coat.
Rio sits facing the bar and when she walks up to him he turns to look at her. Resting an elbow on the counter, his chin in palm, he takes his time to study her.
Even though the lighting is soft he’s all sharp edges. In his relaxed pose there’s a ferocity to him.
Mick stands off to the side, beer in hand, tipping it in an acknowledgement.
“Have a seat,” Rio tells her, sits up, and wraps fingers around his beer bottle and takes a drink.
Getting up on the high chair, she rests her feet on the footrest, unzips her coat just for her hands to do something and places her bag on the counter.
“Why am I here?” She racks her brain, things have been going okay- good- even.
Once she stopped thinking she was in need of the service from Mr. Fitzpatrick she had been making a decent amount of money.
Rio had outright laughed at her when she asked when she was getting her stuff back, so she didn’t see that happening and was in the midst of refurbishing her home and buying new clothes for the kids.
He sounds bored when he asks her, “you think you’d get away with it?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about?” She curses herself for answering. If it’s one thing she’s learned from Rio, if you don’t know, it’s better not to say anything than the wrong thing.
“Your books don't add up.”
Now she’s confused for real, “but we go over them every month. You’re checking them-“ there isn’t any chance that they aren’t, and if he thinks she’s skimming again? “- there’s no way I’d do that without you knowing.”
He just looks at her, takes a drink, like he’s not buying it.
“Money’s missing.”
Mick snorts in the background like he finds her whole shook housewife demeanor funny.
“When did you go through the company’s books?” She didn't even keep them at the office but in a drawer in her kitchen, hidden beneath birthday candles and paper plates.
“I think that’s beside the point, when there’s almost 100 g’s missing.”
And that’s a lot, more than just a small error they’ve made, then she gets it, there’s only one way the books wouldn’t add up. She had been home more than a few days with sick kids.
Swallowing a few times, “I’ll look into it and get back to you.”
“Naah.”
“What do you mean, naah ?”
He signals for the waiter to join them telling him, “top shelf bourbon on the rocks” pointing at Beth, ”and vodka neat.”
Beth takes the opportunity to look around, and sure enough, they’re alone now.
She stares at the tumbler sat down in front of her, “what does this mean?”
Rio sighs like he expected her to ask, “well darlin’, I told you not to steal from me again.”
“I can get it back to you, you know I can pay it back.”
He almost sounds mournful, “I know all your tricks darlin’.”
Reaching for her drink, “I think it might have to do with a slight miscommunication on my part.”
And perhaps it’s that she’s squaring her jaw in a way that he doesn’t think she used to when they first met, that he works it out.
“Hubby went behind your back.” There’s a dry laugh accompanying.
She can’t help the way she freezes, drink in hand. Taking a swig of the rich bourbon, enough to get her voice to sound reassuring when she answers him, “I’ll talk to him. Get it back.”
Knocking his fist two times at the counter, “naah-naah, that car has sailed for carman. Finish your drink. You’re gonna need it.”
It’s not a pleasant car drive to her house, and unlocking her front door, Rio pushes her firmly- but gently- aside. Passing her he strides forward through her house, gun in hand.
Mick tells her to follow him to help get the kids out of the house.
The kids all take it in stride, excited to see Mick again, and to the adventure of going for ice cream sundaes in their Pjs before being dropped off at grandmas’.
She stops them halfway out the door, calls them back inside, gives them all kisses and tells them she loves them, and to behave, to not forget their manners.
As soon as Mick pulls from the curb, Dean enters the kitchen with Rio behind him, gun at his back. Hoisting himself up on top of the dinner table, he tells them both to take a seat.
“What’s going on, Beth?” Dean asks.
“You don’t look at her,“ Rio keeps the gun in his left hand, gesturing with it, looking fully in his element.
“See the books don’t add up. I was thinking it was her. Had a plan thought out to teach her a lesson once and for all. I now see you’re the one that needs to be taught a lesson.”
Dean swallowing like he finally grasps the enormity of his fuck- up, “it’s our business. Me and my wife’s, I don’t see what you’ve got to do with it. Beth, why is he even here?”
Rio’s got a pleased look on his face, with a smug tone he says, “you didn’t tell him, hu?”
“Tell me what?” Dean slowly asks.
“Where she got the money to pay for the business.”
Rio looks at her and she holds his gaze steady, not wanting to show him her hand. “You’re not going to tell your hubby?
He smirks and she hates him, but she won’t take the fall for Dean again. The way he seems to play with them unsettles her just as much as the gun in his hand does.
Dean sounds hurt as he says, “you told me this was just for us.”
“Who would ever loan us that kind of money? With your track record?” She bites back.
Rio looks amused by the exchange, his gaze burns a hole in the side of her skull, interrupting them, “I’ll let this go. With interest .”
The way he says it rings ominous in Bet’s ears.
“What do -“ Deans speaks at the same time she does, “-No.”
“We’ll pay you back. Just, please don’t…” Beth ends it with.
“Please, don’t what?” Rio looks amused by her plea.
Don’t play with us, she wants to say. Please don’t do whatever you’re thinking of doing, to us.
When Rio’s focus shifts to Beth, Dean takes his chance to jump him and Beth can't help but leap up from her chair watching them with wide eyes.
Within seconds Deans’ cornered against the wall and Rio keep throwing punches as Deans just tries to avoid them, shielding his face. For every thrown punch Beth tries not to flinch where she stands frozen her fingers gripping the top back of the chair.
Stepping back, Rio bounces on the ball of his feet, exhilarated by the fight. It isn’t long until Rio’s got the gun back in hand from where he dropped it in the scuffle.
Pulling a chair out from the head of the table, placing it almost in the doorway, he commands Dean to take a seat.
Instructing Beth to go and get some rope, she finds some in the mud room. It’s the rope Dean had bought for the kids when they wanted to learn how to tie sailing knots, after Danny had seen something “wicked” on youtube.
Handing it to Rio, he uses it to tie Dean up. Grabbing the flick knife from his pocket, he cuts off the excess.
Rio takes a step back, leans against the low cabinets in the dining room, regarding Beth as she stands next to Dean. She waits for the verdict.
Beth can almost see the cogs turning, she swallows, her throat suddenly dry, she remembers how he shot Dean at the dinner table.
His fingers are playing on his thigh as he thinks, his other hand -still gun in hand- are resting on top of the cabinets when he breaks the silence.
“You’re gonna’ pay me back,” his focus is on Dean as he speaks, it shifts to her as he says, “as for interest…”
He tips his head to the side as he regards her, letting his gaze wander over her body, and pretends to think it over, he uses his honey voice as he says, “come here.”
Hesitantly she comes to stand in front of him, he gestures with the gun to her coat, it's open but with a thick sweater underneath, “You look a little hot.”
“I’m fine.”
He sighs like she’s being annoying. Bringing his gun up, slowly he runs it on top of her sweater, starting at the hollow of her throat. She wishes it didn’t have an effect on her. A hot flush spreads as he pushes the barrel between her breast slowly dipping in between the valley and stretching the material before he continues down to her navel.
Putting more power in his voice as he speaks in a lowe voice to Dean, still watching her to gauge for reaction, “for interest I’m fuckin’ your wife.”
Dean’s spluttering and protesting, louder and louder, until Rio’s had enough, giving Beth a look and it’s a shared memory. Her sitting barefoot on top of the picnic table the sun's rays warming them a little, the way he laughed when she told just what those kids had put in Dean’s mouth to quiet him.
Shrugging off her coat, letting it drop to the floor, she gives Rio a look to answer with a really?
His slight eye roll for the time she’s taking, she quickens her pace by grabbing the hem of her skirt, sliding it up her thighs until she can get a hold of her underwear, not showing anything more than her thighs as she shimmies out of them.
She does it with her head held high, all prim and proper like it’s a choice when they both know it isn’t, not really.
Running her slightly sweaty palms over her skirt to flatten it down, she takes a step to the side- still in pumps- bends down to grab her underwear to hand to Rio.
The way he gloats as he stuffs Dean with her orange thong makes it hard for her to keep back an eye roll.
He tells Dean, “you spit them out, you and I are gonn’ have a problem”.
Turning around to face her, he rolls back his shoulders, clasping his hands in front of him, one holding the gun and the other holding his wrist.
He tilts his chin up towards her and there's a mean glint in his eyes as he tells her, “come on ma', drop your clothes.”
She held no illusions, this was him getting back at Dean.
She’s pretty sure he wouldn’t make her though. That if she protested he would let her pay him back with a hefty fine, but the thought of paying it off in one evening?
No extra scheming or running ragged for a problem Dean had created?
Seeing her hesitation he tells her, “do this and we’re good.”
Deciding to deal with this as she does with all problems, jumping in head first, she pulls her sweater over her head, then her plain t-shirt. Trying not to think about it too much, she pulls the straps down and unclasps her bra in the back dropping it to the floor.
Now she’s naked from the waist up.
Rio hasn’t dropped his gaze, he’s still searching her face for clues to what she seems to be thinking, but it’s a useless war.
When it drops it’s as she can feel it sweeping over her, landing on her chest, alerting her to the way it moves as she breathes.
She swears she sees the tip of his tongue peeking out at the corner of his mouth for a brief second.
She’s only in her pumps and her skirt. If she were to step out of her pumps, she feels like she’ll lose whatever pride she has left, so instead her finger finds the zipper in the back. It falls easily to the floor, and she stands chin up as he inspects her, still a calculating look in his eyes.
As he moves she holds her breath, she sees him moving to grab what's left of the rope, he moves to stand behind her.
“Hands,” he tells her.
Standing naked with her back towards him, she freezes.
It’s with frustration he tells her, but he keeps his voice on the softer side, “hands, Elizabeth.”
She moves her hands to rest at her lower back. There’s a small spark in her stomach as his warm hands hold her, wrapping the rope around her wrists. It grows into a fire as his hand accidentally keeps brushing against her ass from time to time. It’s his knuckles she feels, and she swears that she feels his thumb swiping over her lower back, just to feel her.
When he’s done she hears how he steps away, a soft thud lets her know he’s probably dropped his jacket somewhere. She recognizes the sound of a chair being pulled out from the table, at an angle from Dean.
Oh god Dean, she hasn’t dared to look at him once as she stripped, keeping her eyes trained at Rio.
She doesn’t know if she’s imagining it, but it is as his gaze is scorching her as it sweeps over her back.
Not knowing what to do, she turns around to face him -it’s instant the way he’s in her face. One of his hands grabs the rope behind her back, restraining her wrists. Pulling downwards he forces her to arch her back. Making her to arch up into him , nipples brushing against the fabric over his chest.
Bringing the other hand up to her face, she’s reminded of the time he’s pushed her hair off her face. His long fingers wraps around her throat. Feeling his thumb at the dimple of her chin pushing its way up until it presses against her mouth.
Jaw squared and face serious, his fingers twitches against her, “if you say stop, I’ll stop.” The way he says it, it’s like he’s daring her, “if you do, you know how I feel about people who steal from me.”
Lifting his thumb from her lips, he waits for her to choose.
She gives him a small nod to show she understands the rules of his game.