Arrow In My Wild Heart

Betrayal

"So, this is really happening? 498 hours of community service to go," Thea grumbled a few hours later. "499. This orientation doesn't count," Laurel informed her. "Tell me how this is not cruel and unusual punishment," Thea said sarcastically. Laurel rolled her eyes, but smiled anyway. "Anastasia, I'd like you to meet our new intern, Thea Queen," Laurel introduced the young girl to the woman whose desk was across from Laurel's. "Interns get school credit. I'm more like a court-ordered slave," Thea quipped. "Oh. I can relate," Anastasia said bitterly. She was always bitter. "Anastasia is on a one year pro-bono sabbatical from her law firm," I tossed in, twirling a pencil between my fingers. "And apparently from my six-figure salary," Anastasia added.

"The experience of helping others is its own reward," Laurel told her. "I have yet to see any evidence of that. And speaking of lack of evidence," Anastasia started, catching my attention. "Cyrus Vanch was released from Iron Heights. We represent a victim's advocacy group who's trying to keep Vanch locked up," Anastasia explained as Laurel quickly moved to her desk and reached for the phone. "I'm calling Kate Spencer," Laurel said quickly. "I already did. She said there's nothing the DA's office can do without further evidence," Anastasia informed my sister as Thea looked to me for an explanation. "Well, then, I'm going to her office," Laurel snapped, slamming the phone down. "And then she also said not to show up at her office.," Anastasia added.

"Vanch is connected to human trafficking, drug running, racketeering, and at least 52 different homicides," I snapped in anger and frustration. I had helped Laurel on the Vanch case. "Okay, so what's the play? Because unless you have access to some private police force, Vanch will stay free to roam the streets," Anastasia pointed out. I ran my fingers through my hair as Laurel's phone rang. "I have to get this," she muttered as she left. "So, what can you guys do about this Vanch guy?" Thea asked me. "Right now, nothing. Laurel and I will probably have a cram session tonight, looking for any new leads or evidence that could help put him away. It's gonna be a long night," I told her with a heavy sigh.

Later that night, Laurel and Tommy were going out to audition chefs for the club. They were just about to leave and I was sitting on the couch in my pajamas, eating a big bowl of ice cream when Laurel's phone went off. Her Hood phone. "It's work. this'll just take a minute," she told Tommy before stepping away. He didn't know about the phone, so of course he wouldn't recognize it. "Hello?" she answered. There was a pause. "Yeah, where?" she asked Oliver who I knew was on the other end of the line. She hung up and sighed. Guilt covered her features as she turned to Tommy.

"Mmm, put those puppy dog eyes away," Tommy told her. "Something's come up at work," Laurel tried to explain. "That can't wait until tomorrow?" Tommy asked her as I got to my feet and hurriedly finished off my ice cream. "It'll only be an hour. I'll meet you at the club," Laurel said, trying to ease Tommy's frustration. "One hour," he told her as I ran into the kitchen and discarded my now empty bowl into the sink. After that, I moved into my room and quickly changed. When I came back out, Tommy was gone and Laurel was waiting for me. "What's going on?" I asked her. "The Hood called me. He might have something on Vanch and we're going to meet him to figure out what that is," she explained. I nodded simply before the two of us left.

We met Oliver a half an hour later on a rooftop. He was, of course, in his Hood suit. Laurel looked nervous at meeting him. "Hello, Laurel, Melanie," Oliver greeted us in his disguised voice. "Thank you for helping," I told him with a small smile. "I couldn't do much. Vanch's position is too heavily fortified. But I did get this," he told us before handing Laurel a thumbdrive. "Evidence he's trying to take over the positions vacated by Frank Bertinelli and..." Oliver paused, noticing something I didn't. "And the Triad," he finished. "What's wrong?" I asked him, glancing around the rooftop.