Hear Me

Family

Thursday

Yesterday's therapy session was better. She talked about the new investigation she's a part of, without giving away details, of course. Today was a little rough. Blake and Hoffman were on Clara's ass about the case. She visited Charlie during her break and he's doing good. And now she's got to dance with the Devil.

Clara sighs as she unlocks her front door and enters her apartment. She shuts it behind her and drops her grocery bags on the floor of the kitchen. Before putting them away, she pours herself some whiskey. As she savored the warm feeling it gave, she notices her window's open. Is he already here? If he is, why didn't he make his arrival clear when she first got home. She grabs her gun and slowly walks around to the living room. In the dim lighting of the sun going down, she doesn't see anyone. Clara checks her bedroom but doesn't find anyone there. She also checks her spare bedrooms and still, no one there. Just being paranoid. Of course there's no one there. As sets her gun down on the kitchen counter, someone grabs her from behind. "Hey!" She yells and twists herself in his grasp. She throws her head back, smashing it into the man's nose.

He lets go of her and groans in pain, clutching his face, "the bitch broke my nose!"

The Devil of Hell's Kitchen was running late for his weekly meet up with the Detective. He runs across rooftops, hoping he can catch her before she goes to sleep. When he does approach the window, he hears a commotion from inside. Marinetta was fighting with someone. He threw her to the ground and she grabbed the picture frame, smashing it over the guy's head. He was about to enter the apartment when he hears the sound of a gun being cocked and a voice, "that's enough. You're making an unnecessary mess," the man points a gun at the detective.

She looks down the barrel of the gun and takes her hand off the guy she was wrestling with. "That's what happens when you break into my home," she frowns. 

The man she was fighting grabs her and wrenches her arms behind her back, "Detective Marinetta. My employer is upset with you. Naturally, I'm here to make a deal with you," the man steps into the light coming from the window.

Clara looks up, "James Wesley?" She asks, surprised.

He was also surprised. He hadn't accounted for the fact that she might know his name. But he quickly hides this surprise, "I'm here to make a deal on behalf of my employer."

"Wilson Fisk," she says blatantly.

Wesley clenches his jaw, "we don't say his name."

"Of course you don't. If you say his name, he's just a man. Well really, he's a corporate asshole who has daddy issues because his dad used to hit...," he hits her in the temple with his gun. She cries out and leans towards the ground, wincing as blood runs down the side of her face.

"We don't say his name or talk about him," he squats down and lifts her face using the gun barrel, "now, my employer is willing to pay you for your discretion."

"For my silence," Clara says as her head throbs.

"Yes. He'll pay you 1000 up front and if you agree to work with him, you'll be paid by the week."

She sighs, "let me guess, if I don't take the deal, I die."

Wesley smiles, "no, if you don't take the deal. Your family and friends die."