Chapter 1

"There is no new information on the victim found slain this morning inside the church of the Holy Saints."

"Hey Bri!" Hailey called from the kitchen, "Come look at this!"

I went into the kitchen of our small apartment, picking clothes off the floor as I went.

"What?" I asked her, throwing the clothes in a laundry basket and moving to pour myself a cup of coffee.

"Here," she pointed the remote at the TV sitting on the kitchen counter, turning up the volume, "Just listen to this."

"-have confirmed that the body was ritualized with pennies in the eyes. Many remember this as the calling card of the vigilante killers known as the Saints, who went on a murder spree here in Boston-"

My jaw dropped and I turned to Hailey, about to say something. She shh'd me, pointing back at the TV before I could say anything else.

"-that ended eight years ago when the Saints walked into open court, and executed mafia don Papa Joe Yakavetta before a courtroom of terrified witnesses-"

"Whatever!" I exclaimed, "They make it sound like Yakavetta was some innocent guy! He was fucking killing people for God's sake!"

"Just listen!" Hailey turned up the TV even louder.

"-the ominous question hangs heavy in the air. Are they back?"

Hailey and I just looked at each other. Both of us were thinking the same thing; it wasn't them….was it?

"Who was killed?" I asked.

"The priest," Hailey replied.

"Then it couldn't have been-" I reasoned, "I mean they would've- I'm sure someone would've at least called us or-"

"I just talked to Connor yesterday," Hailey cut off my rambling, shaking her head, "It wasn't them. Plus, think about it. The priest? They're so religious…."

"Yeah, definitely not them," I agreed, getting the creamer out of the fridge.

"Mommy!"

I smiled, turning around to a small three year old boy running through the living room into the kitchen.

"Mommy I'm awake!" he exclaimed, coming to a stop right in front of me and flashing me a grin.

"I see that," I replied with a laugh, getting out a spoon and stirring my coffee.

He laughed, then ran to attack Hailey. Hailey laughed, trying to shove him off while I watched, leaning against the counter. He looked so much like….him, that sometimes he was hard to look at. Brown messy hair, pale skin, small eyes, button nose….the only thing he had inherited from me was the brown eyes; the rest was all Murphy.

Murphy.

Just his name had my body reacting; the heart pumping, the hands shaking, the stomach twisting. It had been three months since we had talked last….three long, hard months. I bit my lip, trying to keep myself from crying again. I refused to start my day off like this; in tears and full of nothing but sad memories of the love of my life.

"Ok, I've gotta go," Hailey announced, standing up and bringing her bowl to the sink. "The new waitress starts at eight, and I want to be there before the others start training her."

"Ok, have fun," I replied, giving her a half-hearted smile. "I'll see you tonight."

She nodded at me with a grin, not noticing my emotional state- I figured she was just used to it by now. She grabbed her jacket, said goodbye to Dylan, ruffling his hair, and headed out the door.

"Where's she going?" Dylan asked, just like he did every morning after Hailey left.

"Work silly," I answered with a grin, picking him up and putting him at a chair at the table.

"Where's that?" he asked curiously, already scrambling to stand up on the chair and reach for the salt and pepper shakers.

"Her restaurant," I answered with a sigh, moving the shakers on the counter and out of his reach. "What do you want to eat?"

We went through the daily morning routine. I fed him, quickly gulped down my coffee and a bowl of cereal while he watched TV. Then I got him dressed, got myself dressed, and we headed out the door. I dropped him off at daycare, and finally I had some quiet time. I sat in the car for a moment in the daycare parking lot, closing my eyes and leaning my head back.

"How can you even say that?" I yelled into the phone, pacing back and forth, "Are you even listening to what you're saying right now?"

"I'm listenin' Bri!" Murphy yelled back , "I' makes perfect fuckin' sense!"

"Not talking to your child makes perfect fucking sense?" I growled angrily, "What the fuck, Murph'? This isn't like you…we've been married for how long now?"

"Five years," Murphy answered softly.

"Yeah," I spat, "Yeah, five fucking years. And you're going to just leave it like this?"

"I'm no' leavin' ya Bri, I jus'-" he cut-off and I could hear him taking a huge breath, "Look, I'm gonna go."

"Murphy don't go," I said softly, my tone going from angry to desperate, "Just talk to me. We need to talk about this-"

"No, I don' wanna-" he stopped again, "I love ya Bri. I'll tal' to ya later."

"Murphy, God dammit!" I yelled, tears filling my eyes, "You can't just hang up! We can-"

I stopped, listening to the dial tone on the other end. I angrily threw the phone on the ground, cursing at it. I stumbled to the nearest chair and collapsed into it, a sob escaping my throat before I finally let the tears fall from my eyes.

I shook my head angrily, pinching the bridge of my nose. How long had I been sitting here? I caught a parent walking toward their car, watching me uneasily. I looked at the ceiling, waiting for the few tears to fall to the back of my eyes. Then I shifted the car into reverse, backing out and heading to work.

~BDS~

I rolled my shoulders back, exhaling heavily.

I was going to win; I always did. The cheers surrounding me were deafening, all the drunken, smelly men yelling and encouraging the violence. Normally, I would be in that crowd, putting what little money I had on the fighter I thought was going to win.

Fuck that. Tonight I was the fighter.

I looked around the ship, observing my audience. I watched a drunken man, holding a cup of beer that was slopping out of the cup as he stumbled around. I watched another pull money out of his pocket, eyeing me with interest. I stopped at Connor, who was watching me with his arms crossed, looking worried. I rolled my eyes; he was always so fucking worried about me all the time.

My opponent was cracking his knuckles. He turned to growl at me and I smirked: this guy honestly thought he could beat me. Sure, technically he was three times my size with bulging muscles and nothing but protein shakes and lifting weights in his daily plan. Didn't mean I couldn't beat his ass.

The bell rang, echoing of the walls of the ring, which was actually just a huge storage room in the basement of the ship. We immediately began side-stepping in unison, making a circle. We were at least six feet away from each other, his eyes never leaving mine.

I could feel the adrenaline, the mad power pumping through my veins. The feeling was intoxicating: it made me feel invincible, as if nothing could stop me. He finally threw a punch and I dodged it easily, grabbing him by the forearm. He yelled angrily and I twisted his arm around, flinging him in a half circle before he hit the ground with a thud.

He grabbed my leg and pulled, sending me straight to the floor. I lifted up slowly, trying to get myself together.

Murphy just talk to him. He's your kid…

The man punched me straight in the face, and my head snapped back forcefully.

What kind of father leaves their kid like that? He's never going to know he has a dad, Murphy!

Another punch to my gut sent me doubling over in pain, spitting blood out of my mouth.

I named him Dylan. Dylan Liam. It means great protector. You know, just like you are to me…

Bri's voice was echoing in my brain, filling me with thoughts I tried to avoid. I needed to hit, I needed to punch, I needed to get her out of my head.

I lifted myself up off the ground, throwing the hardest punch I could conjure at his face. He grunted, his face turning to the left and his body falling with it. I jumped on his stomach, straddling him and spitting on his face. He growled, but before he could even lift his arm, I was punching him back and forth on the face. Right hook, left hook, smack, smack. I kept hitting him, long after his eyes had closed and he was unconscious. His face was a mess, with blood everywhere and swelling wounds. It was all because of me, and I was getting some sick satisfaction out of it.

"Murphy!" Connor yelled, while I continued to punch the man, "Murph', the fights over!"

"I don' care, Connor!" I yelled, even as he wrapped his arms around my waist and yanked me up, "Didya see wha' tha' motherfucker did ta me? He deserves ta fuckin' die!"

A part of me knew I was being unreasonable, but the bigger part of me couldn't have cared less. I was trying to get out of Connor's arms, intent on beating that guy to a pulp.

"Calm the fuck down!" Connor yelled in my ear, pulling me away from the unconscious man and through the swarms of people, "God Murphy, ge' a fuckin' hold o' yerself!"

I started to calm down, and stopped struggling in Connor's arms. He let me go, and I walked away from him, breathing heavily. I finally looked up at him, and he was watching me, confusion and worry written all over his face. I looked away, ignoring it. I didn't care, it was all worth it.

She was finally out of my head.