Fall of Trust

Kitiara dashed around the corner with a sharp turn. After Dreidi had gotten into contact with her not even an hour ago, she had done her best to get over here as quickly as she could.

The phone call had been short.
“Laverne?”
“Dreidi! Everything all right? I thought you were-”
“Sorry, no time for smalltalk. I’m worrying that they’re onto me.”
“What? But-”
“Someone from the police force seems to have dropped my name. I’m lucky that I just happened to overhear a conversation between their boss and her right hand. Well, I didn’t hear it all, I bolted before they could finish but-” Those words had summoned a heavy lump in Kitis stomach. To almost everyone else at the police station, Dreidi had changed jobs and started as a nurse in the hospital of a different city because he didn’t feel safe in his job as police officer anymore. Only a small circle of people Kitiara trusted knew of his undercover job.
And she had mentioned his name to only one person outside of the police force.
But that couldn’t be… could it?
“Where are you now?”
“Doesn’t matter, won’t stay. More important is: I’ve found enough shit to convict the murderer you were seeking. Stashed it away where I told you I would.”
“Dreidi, we need to get you somewhere safe!”
“I know, that’s why I’m calling. Look, if I have to end the job now, I’d like to at least see this guy in cuffs before he learns of this too and bails. I know his schedule today, so I’d appreciate if you and the force could help me getting him locked up. Then I can still go into hiding.”
Kitiara had hesitated for a moment before answering. On one hand, she understood Dreidi - his business with this killer was kind of personal, but the series of murders by decapitation was gruesome in general. Ending it would be good for everyone.
And since what Dreidi said hinted at a connection between the killer and the gang she’d been trying to bust… maybe she could ask that person some questions that burnt on her mind. “All right. Give me time and location, I’ll be there.”

But she was slightly late. Just enough for her to worry about Dreidi having made a move without her, and the rest of her squad wasn’t even here yet. In the old, empty factory she was dashing through, she started to fear that they wouldn’t even find them in time. Still, two police officers were better than o-

Gunshots tore through the air, and what had been a sneaking fear spread through her whole body as panic. So close-
She jumped through a doorframe, her gun raised and ready, and froze at the scene before her.

Her reaction didn’t come from the sight of Dreidi, bleeding and choking on the floor, nor from the handcuffed, ash-blond man close to him who looked like he was recovering from a severe beating.

It came from the person who stood on one of the dusty machines that turned about half of this hall into a labyrinth. It was Coffee, and the barrel of her weapon was still smoking and aimed at Dreidi.

Kitiaras mind began to swim, a million old suspicions screaming in her head about how it was her fault that this happened, how she should have trusted them before because if she’d done that, her squad member - her friend - wouldn’t be there on the floor, blood gushing from bullet wounds.
A million of memories raced through her mind, of drunken evenings together, of sleepy kisses in the morning and silly laughter in an empty office, of tears she’d dried and such she’d shed, of long discussions about morals, and most of all a voice that smelled like coffee and cigarettes whispering: “I love you.”

The shock passed quickly, but the grief didn’t. Instead, it turned into burning, hot anger, a rage Kiti hadn’t felt forever as she aimed her gun at the woman in the evening dress.
”YOU!“ Coffee turned her head towards her only now, even though she had to have noticed her entering without a doubt. Her motion was slow, as elegant as ever, but if Kitiara had been her lover in that moment and not a broken, betrayed version of herself, she would have seen through the facade immediately.
"…me.”, she replied, seemingly calm.
“Kiti… go!”, Dreidi choked, trying to look up to her. “Forget about me! Get the kil-” He was interrupted by his need to cough up blood.
“I haven’t killed him. Yet. And I might give him a chance if I learn where you hid it. Kasimir will not go to the death row, not on my watch.” Cocking her gun, Coffee tried to keep it steady. She was already using both hands, and yet she could barely keep herself from shaking.
“He’s a murderer!”, Kitiara shouted.
“He is a hitman. My. Hitman.” Coffees eyes returned to Dreidi, she couldn’t bear seeing this information sink in. She couldn’t bear seeing Kitiaras face when her features spelled out hatred. “The victims? Enemies of mine, one way or another. Some knew too much and were about to use it against me. Some made the mistake of attacking my men. Some wanted my head, so I let Kasimir take theirs.” She took a deep breath, as silently as she could. “I still have three bullets left. If you leave, I won’t use them. If you attempt to harm Kasimir or retrieve your officer, I… will.”

Kitiara lowered her gun, even though she would have much preferred to pull the trigger a thousand times. Kasimir, the blond man, had recovered enough by now to assess the situation with a quick glance, throw another one at Coffee, and slip into an opening between the heavy machines at the signal of her slight nod, so quickly that she wouldn’t have been able to shoot him even if she’d been capable of a steady aim.
“Fuck you.”, the policewoman hissed - and made her way over to Dreidi.
“Kiti, I warn-”
”DON’T YOU DARE CALLING ME THAT EVER AGAIN!”, Kitiara roared, and it echoed through the big hall with more force than the noises of the factory probably ever had. For the first time in this conversation, Coffee flinched and her face fell, an expression of deep grief and injury on her features for a short moment. But it wasn’t Kitiara, who dignified the gangster with no more looks, but Dreidi who saw it.
“I KNEW it! I knew it all along and yet I TRUSTED you! You could have stopped! You could have lived out your life as a bar owner! Maybe we wouldn’t have had much, but we…” Kitiara trailed off as she came to a halt next to her friend, her last word hanging in the air and breaking Coffees heart.
“I have my men to look out for.”, was all she could say, and it sounded too weak for pretending. It was useless, and she knew it. Kitiara and Coffee had had long discussions lasting until grey morning hours about how Kitiara did not believe in Coffees Eat Or Get Eaten world view.

The officer just scoffed and knelt down.
“N-no!” Coffee was trying her best to regain her composure.
“I can’t let both of you go, K-… Officer! If you don’t leave right now and without him, I’ll have to kill you both!”
Kiti didn’t even hesitate for a moment when she picked up Dreidi.
“Go ahead.” She had her own men to look out for.
As she stood back up, the bleeding policeman in her arms and shielding him from Coffees view, she heard three gunshots, and for a moment she did wonder if blood was already drenching her back - until she looked at the colossus of an engine before her and saw three bullet holes framing the head of her shadow.

When she left, she only dully noted out of the corner of her eye that Coffee had disappeared. The anger had turned into something like grey fog that muffled everything within her, and only faintly let the worry for Dreidis health through to her mind. The only important thing right now was getting him stitched back up.

And then she could still find a certain criminal.

Coffee had curled up behind the machine she’d stood on, and with surprising strength managed to stay silent. But as soon as the footsteps of her love had gotten far away enough to escape her ears, she let down a pathetic, drawn out wail, venting all the pain she felt.
From the shadows, her right hand woman and closest friend emerged, long black hair billowing behind her, and crouched down to pull the crying bar owner into her arms.
For a long time, she’d been the only one who’d been allowed to see Coffees tears. And now, it seemed like she’d be again.