Fiona awoke with a start at the click of her door. She quickly grabbed the gun from beneath her pillow and slid out the bedroom door to meet her intruder. That way she could shove the barrel down their throat and ask why they had dared to disturb her beauty rest. She crept along the hallway, noting that she distinctly heard talking. That meant there was more likely than not, more than one person in her house. From what she could tell, there were at least two males. Irish. A shiver ripped through her spine and she suddenly felt far too naked in her tank top and panties. She hadn't deemed it necessary to put on pants before but it was seeming like a poor decision now. Her brother has ensured Michael and her that they wouldn't have to worry about anybody coming after her from their homeland... But someone had clearly slipped through the cracks.
Fi briefly wondered if she should call Michael or Jesse for back up but realized it wasn't an option when she felt an arm bar her throat. Panic rose as she gripped the thick limb, dropping her Sig when she felt the pressure increase, threatening to strangle her. She cursed and let forth a startled cry. Maybe a neighbour would hear and call the police but she knew it was a very slim dug her nails into the man's arm and slammed her foot down on his as hard as she could in her bare feet. She heard the sharp intake of breath as the choke hold tightened further. Fi shuddered, feeling the barrel of a gun pushing her hair out of her face. She always imagined her last stand would be more theatrical - that she'd stand more of a chance and be able to fight. When she pictured her death, it usually included an explosion or an epic battle; not dying alone and admittedly scared, defenseless in her living room. She gulped, trying to swallow down the lump in her throat but found that to be a fruitless endeavour as well. There were no witty remarks she could think of. Only how she wished beyond anything that she had told Michael she loved him more than life itself. She tried to see the features of the second man who approached from the kitchen. His steps were slow and deliberate as he stalked towards her and cupped her cheek, staring at her as if she were a pet. She was sure she knew him - Knew she had to have done something to anger him but couldn't make a mental match through her racing thoughts.
'Aww... Sweetheart, you're shakin,' he whispered, clearly amused. 'Can't say I ever imagined I'd have ya again, you're a hard one ta track - Your dearest brother made sure of that... But I found ya.'
She shook again, trying to blink back her tears and saw him smile through her watery eyes. His rough hands roved over her shoulders, relishing his prize. Her face flushed with anger, fury coursing through her veins. This pathetic excuse for a man wasn't going to come into her house and terrify her. Though, at this point it was clear he didn't plan to take her out of there. If he was going to then he would have already. Didn't he know how much she was worth? He could take her back to Ireland, sell her, and live in luxury for a good while if not the rest of his days. She had to think of something to say. If I can just talk to him... If I can just keep him talking, maybe I'll stand a chance. It was a last ditch effort, she knew, a hail Mary. Sam never came over without calling first and it was the same for Jesse. There was no way that anyone would start wondering or worrying about her safety in time. Her typical elucivity made it perfectly normal for neither of them to hear from her for days on end. They probably wouldn't even come looking for her until she was a putrid, rotting corpse unless one of them had a job. So much for an open casket funeral...
'So, what did I do to piss you off, huh? Had your plans foiled by a little girl?' she spat out, trying to buy herself time.
He seemed genuinely taken a back and infuriated by the comment. Like it offended every fibre of his being. He took his hands from her shoulders and roughly backhanded her, jaw clenched as he quickly gripped her upper arms, bruising her. He leaned his face to hers, mere centimetres away. His nostrils flared as he glared into her eyes.
'No, Fiona. You broke my heart. Or don't you remember? You were too busy running around with that damn American spy. An' ya can't say that ya didn't know what he was, cause look where you are now.'
'What? In my living room with a sorry excuse for a man who can't let go?'
Fi knew she probably shouldn't be running her mouth like that but she wasn't about to go quietly. Her faced still burned from a mixture of the slap and humiliation. It was probably a good thing that she hadn't called Michael. She realized that he wasn't even in Miami, possibly not even in Florida anymore. He didn't need to hear this - But given the chance to change her past, she still would have left this fool and gone with him. All the pain and heartache seemed trivial now and she couldn't bring herself to be bitter about any of it. It was a shame though, because now that she could match her to-be-killer's identity, she remembered that he was sweet. She had dated Collin for nearly a year and a half. He truly had fancied her; he wanted to marry her and have children but she wasn't about to settle down. She didn't want to quit the IRA and stay barefoot and pregnant for some soft romantic. Though, he seemed a lot less soft now that she was at his mercy.
'You left me for a feckin' American spy, Fiona. You threw away your life to chase around a man who clearly doesn't love you. Where is he, hmm? Where. Is. He?' he accentuated the words and watched her tremble, clearly at a loss for any response. 'With all the racket you've been makin' I doubt he's there in the other room. Though, I woulda loved for him to be here for this. But no, I'm sure he's left you again just like in Dublin. You shoulda come back to me after that; I might have been able to forgive you.'
He slipped a knife out of his pocket and ran it along her cheek, leaving a small trail of blood in it's wake. He kissed it, crimson staining his lips like a crude war paint as he traced it lower, cutting one strap on her tank top. Her eyes widened as his intentions made themselves clear. He didn't just plan to kill her. No, he was going to claim every last shred of her dignity first. Panic once more shot though her and she began her struggling a new, trying to break free of the arm around her throat. No, she couldn't go through this again. Not now. Not when she had come so far. She heard the 9mm click behind her ear as the other man loaded a bullet into the chamber and placed the cold metal to the back of her head.
'Now why dontcha quit that before ya go an get yerself hurt?'
'Why are you doing this?' she asked through red-rimmed, glistening eyes. 'What happened to you?'
'You happened to me, you bitch! You destroy everythin' you touch! Was it worth it, Fiona?' He yelled, his free hand gripping her chin. 'Well, was it?'
'Yes.' Fi spat out. 'Every last second.'
Her heart thrummed quickly in her chest and she felt herself growing sick as she watched her ex. Anger reddened Collin's face and he savagely cut away the other strap of her tank top, barely noting the muffled sob that escaped his captive. He closed the knife, putting it back in his pocket and focused on his current task: retribution. Calloused hands roughly gripped her small breasts and she squeezed her eyes shut at a loss for exit strategies.
'Not so tough, are ya now, darling?'
He asked, watching Fi try to keep herself from breaking as his hands dipped into her panties, finding her centre totally dry. He scoffed before slowly dragging his zipper down. He swelled, taking in how her anxiety rose with each tooth the zip descended. It was beautiful. He pushed his trousers to the floor, spitting on his hand to lubricate his member before pulling off her panties and lifting her leg to position himself at her entrance.
'Beg me for it.'
She shook her head but then felt the muzzle press harder into her flesh. Fiona swallowed down the bile in her throat. And trembling, opened her mouth.
'P-please...' she forced out.
'Please, what?' he grinned, seeing the tears working their way down her face in the low light.
'Please take me.' She said, voice cracking.
'Now that's a good girl.'
He said as he pushed into her, grasping her bottom. After a few pumps, he could feel her body lubricating itself against her will and breathed in the heady aroma of her sex. She was just as he remembered - Her tight, sculpted body fit perfectly in his hands. Her pert breasts, perfectly in his mouth and he let out a low moan as he sucked and bit the raised flesh while delving deeper inside of her. The gun slipped down her back pressing into her spine as his accomplice licked and sucked at her earlobe, then bit her neck with full force. She let forth a scream, wondering in the back of her head if she was bleeding and wishing that he had just killed her already. She drew in a wheezing breath before letting forth a loud sob, wishing that she could stop crying but finding it to be a futile battle. Collin hooked her legs around his waist and she felt the gun moved away from her body, heard it placed on her coffee table. With that, she began struggling, barraging his accomplice's side with her elbow to no avail. She flung her arms against Collin's chest but he paid no heed either, leaning back and driving into her harder. His partner moved his arm down from her neck to hold her arms in place and reached down to finger her other entrance.
'Get off me, you bastards!' She screamed.
'Shut her up," Collin said, nodding to his associate, 'She could wake the dead.'
The other man tore the rest of Fiona's tank which had been resting in shreds around her waist and shoved it into her mouth - muffling her cries of distress into a high pitched hum. Her eyes shot open at the new suffocating sensation, hands clawed at Collin's shoulder trying to scratch and gain some semblance of control as she focused on the new task of breathing through her stuffy nose. Every muscle in her body tightened as she heard the other man's fly unzip and she felt him - one arm still tightly wrapped around her small shoulders and the other working his uncut length into an erection.
'May I?' she heard and felt the words breathed on the side of her cheek accompanied by a short chuckle.
'Of course. She'll let anyone fuck her, isn't that right, Fiona?'
She clenched her eyes shut and let her head fall back onto the other man's shoulder surrendering to her fate as she heard him spitting in his palm before positioning his meagerly lubricated length at her bum. He greedily dragged his tongue down her neck to her shoulder blades before pressing into her, eliciting another scream through her makeshift gag. Every nerve and synapse in her body fired off, registering the tearing pain as the second man pushed into her and began his unrelenting pace. Fiona fought to catch her breath through the gag , her screams, and the bile rising in her throat. She could feel the blood trickling down her thigh and inadvertently clenched. Both men groaned as they continued claiming her small body, relishing the cacophony of pain they were eliciting from her. Collin dug his short nails into her hips as his pace became more erratic. He let out a final grunt as he spilled himself into her then slid an arms length away, panting heavily. His partner didn't finish so quickly, though. He gripped the long brunette locks in his fist and pushed her to the ground, kneeling on her leg. He sped up his rhythm, blood and saliva lubricating his thrusts and bit into her shoulder causing her arms to give out. It seemed like hours of him holding her up by her hair, tearing her asunder before he finally pulled out. He roughly tugged her hair, pulling her to face him and spilling his seed on her tear-streaked face. Fiona heaved forth a low, sorrowful cry through her shirt. She found herself praying for the first time in years. God, please, just let this end. Just let them kill me. I'll give anything. Just please let me die.
She heard Collin's partner pick the gun up off of the table, still gripping her hair. This was it. This was her sweet, merciful release from the torture she had endured.
'Do ya want me ta...' he asked, nodding towards her head.
'No, let her live.' he responded shortly, 'I got what I came for.'
The other man shrugged, almost pitying that it would end without her death but followed his orders and instead slammed her head against the wood floor before retreating to her bathroom, like Collin had previously, to wash the night's events off. She watched them leave, not moving any more than she needed to for fear that he would change his mind and put an end to her. Once she heard the engine of their car roar to life, she pushed the gag out of her mouth. But still she lied there several hours more, unable to get up through her pain and disgrace. She finally understood: Collin never planned to kill her - He wanted to take every last bit of her and tear it apart from the outside in. And as much as she wanted to be strong, every piece that he had left behind with her just wanted Michael. Another tear snaked out of her eye knowing that he was the one thing she couldn't have right now. In the meanwhile though, she finally pushed herself off the floor, gasping in pain and dragged herself to the shower.
She would take care of herself. She always had. And she would call Sean to tell him to step up his security once she was able to scrub the layer of filth off her skin. After all, she was still breathing and that had to count for something. After she had finished and her skin was bright pink from abrasion, she checked her locks and called Michael to listen to his voice mail message again.
The morning presented itself lazily and much to Fi's dismay, it was a beautiful sunny day. There should have been clouds and rain- thunder and lightning - hell, a hurricane would have seemed appropriate. Instead the weather taunted her. She drew her curtains angrily, and set out to find something to break. Anything would do. A picture frame, a glass, a snow globe... She briefly wished she had gotten one from Ireland. It would have been her primary choice in this circumstance... She paused, breaking away from her thoughts when she heard her phone chirp from her bedroom nightstand. She quickly limped over, not exactly sure if she should be excited for any call she might receive and sighed when she saw it was Sam.
'I'm not interested in a job.' was her curt greeting.
'Woah sister, someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed...' he trailed off before beginning again. 'Well, how about a free lunch and you just give it a listen - Ya know, see if you change your mind...'
'I said I'm not interested; Is it that difficult to get that concept through your thick head?' she inquired shortly, as her voice did a crescendo.
'Look, Fi, if this is about Mike...'
'It isn't... It's just.' She felt the lump rising in her throat again, 'Can't you just leave me alone?'
Fi cringed when her voice cracked. She knew exactly where this was going now. Sam was going to invite himself over and she was going to have another intruder rummaging through the most private parts of her life. She could hear him talking with who she assumed was Jesse before uttering a small:
'We'll be over in a bit, Fi, Okay? Don't do anything crazy,' he rushed, hanging up without a response from her.
Fi quickly set to work cleaning the floor. The was still semen and blood in the outline of her heel caking the ground. She hadn't noticed that she had kicked over and broken a lamp the night prior either. It's a shame... I really liked that one. It tied the accents of the room together perfectly. She thought as detatchedly as she could manage while scrubbing her own bodily fluids off the ground. She was halfway through rubbing off a spot in the varnish when the doorbell rang. Taking a deep breath, she looked herself over in the mirror, put on a cardigan to hide the hand-shaped bruises on her arms and opened the door.
Her mouth dropped a bit and the tears welled back up but she couldn't bring herself to care.
'Michael...' she whispered incredulously. 'What happened?'
She asked as she ushered Sam and him through the door, ignoring the pain in her backside. Michael's gaze swept the room as he noted the broken lamp, the overly scoured flooring, and the 9mm that laid abandoned on the hardwood. His jaw clenched, looking over Fiona again, reviewing the bite marks and the long cut on her face. He reached out to brush the wound with his thumb and frowned when she flinched.
'Fi...' He started, slowly stepping closer. 'Who did this?'
'Do you remember Collin?'
She responded, unable to meet his gaze or look at Sam. She focused instead on the wall to her left, hugging herself until she heard Michael speak again. It was scarcely more than a whisper. Just the quiet utterance of her name before pulling her into an embrace, trying to hide his own glistening eyes. One day. If I had been back just one day sooner this could have been averted. He felt her draw in a sharp breath before shuddering in his arms and burying her face in his strong chest. Michael brushed her hair with his fingertips, taking note that he felt more scabs there as well.
'Sam, could you...'
'Sure, Mike. I'll just meet up with Jesse at Carlito's so he doesn't think we ditched him.'
'Thanks.' He said before kissing her hair and resting his cheek on her head.
They stood in silence for a long while before she shifted and let forth a small whimper. Michael pulled back, checking her over and trying to locate the source of her discomfort. Fiona sighed, pointing to her backside and watching the colour rise in Michael's face.
'Flannery, right?'
'Huh?' she sounded, caught off guard.
'It's Collin Flannery, right?'
'Michael...' she trailed off and he nodded curtly to her response.
'He's dead.'
A/N: Alright, so I'm not sure yet if I want to continue this but I think I might so I'll leave it open for now. Constructive reviews are preferred but let me know what you all think either way. Thanks for reading!