The Saint's Only Weakness

Chapter One

"Oh shut up," Sierra muttered, pulling her sneakers on and tying them up. Her gun was safely secured in its holster, which was placed at her left hip.
"I'm just saying, it'd be smart to hide the money somewhere other than in the ceiling tiles. If someone comes to work on them then they'll see the money and know we're the fuckin' 'Mafia Murderers'. That name, Sierra, it's so annoyin'." Taylor drawled in her thick Irish accent, just as she placed a hundred dollar bill in her pocket and her knife in her belt loop.
She pulled her thick, Italian leather coat over her shoulders, turning to her sister.
"What are you lookin' at?" The brunette joked, slugging her sister's shoulder in a playful manner.
She brushed off the hit like she hasn't touched her and instead of answering said, "I got a question."
"Ask away."
"You still the slightest bit nervous?"
"Hell yes. Yes, I am."
Taylor smiled slightly and pulled her sister up by the arm, then proceeded to pull her out the door. The two were matching, both wearing their guns on their hip, Italian leather jackets, jeans, and converse sneakers, as they walked down the streets of south Boston.

"What bar do you want to go to tonight?" Sierra asked. The two had finished up the job; the German mob leader was now dead.
"There's an Irish bar uptown in north Boston. Let's go there." Taylor answered.
"Sounds good."

The two sisters walked into the bar and looked around. The only others in there were a group of men seated at bar stools and the bartender, an old man, that was standing behind the bar in front of him.
"Fuck! Ass!" Taylor heard him shout and instantly smiled to herself, taking a seat on a barstool beside some of the men and her sister.
"Aye, look Connor," Sierra heard one guy whisper to his brother. She smirked and ordered a bottle of whiskey, which the bartender gladly handed to her.
"You sure ya can handle yer whiskey, youngin'?" The man that had been whispering asked her in his thick Irish accent.
"Oh she can handle it all right. Been drinkin' since she was eleven." Taylor muttered, ordering a shot of everything mixed.
"Hey Murphy," she could hear the man, Connor, say to what looked to be his twin, "Murphy quit harrassin' lil girls." This man also had a thick Irish accent. They all seemed to.
Then he turned to Taylor and Sierra. "But seriously, what brings you ladies here?" He asked, looking more annoyed that someone was in his bar than curious.
"It's Saint Patties day, aye?" Taylor raised an eyebrow, downing a few shots.
Connor smirked slightly. "Ya from Ireland too?"
"Spot on, Connor is it?" She asked.
"It is. And I don't believe I know your names."
"I'm Taylor. She's Sierra." The blonde pointed at her sister.
"Reckon you'll become regulars?" He asked the girls.
"Oh, boys, and now ladies, that reminds me to tell you, I'm havin' ta close down soon," the bartender interrupted.
"What?! Why?!" Murphy exclaimed.
"The Russian mob has been buying up buildings in the area, includin' this one, and they won't let me renew my lease. FUCK! ASS!" He answered, shaking his head sadly.
"Well there's got to be something I can do, maybe I can talk to my boss and have an arrangement set up I me-" the tipsy looking man in the middle of everyone began, but the bartender cut him off.
"Thanks Rocco but I don't want to start any trouble. You all best keep your mouth shut, I don't want to tell anyone."
Just then, the doors flew open and a group of huge men walked in. Taylor's hand moved to rest at the butt of her gun, but she didn't pull it from the holster.
"I am Ivan Chekov, and you are all leaving now," the larger of the men said, seeming to be the boss.
"I'm pretty sure you're not the boss of any of us. Maybe of you and your little gang, but not us." Sierra rolled her eyes, finishing her whiskey.
Taylor smirked slightly as she heard Rocco say, "You're momma sucks so much-" but then frowned when Ivan hit him square in the jaw
"Excuse me," she said, standing up straight, "I don't believe you know who me and my sister over here are."
Ivan looked at her and laughed. "And I honestly don't care."
Taylor pulled her gun from its holster and began twirling it around. "Have you heard about all those gang members that have just been droppin' like flies?" She asked, faking innocence as Sierra stood at her side, her gun also drawn and twirling around.
"Wanna hear a secret? I know the people that are killin' 'em." Sierra sneered.
"And today's your lucky day. We just so happen to be them." Taylor added. She turned back to look at Rocco, Murphy, and Connor, who seemed stunned, but not scared.
"You boys gonna just sit there, or are ya gonna join in?" She smiled slightly.
Connor was quick by her side and pulled the gun out of her hand, whispering in her ear, "Don't kill 'em. Yet."
Murphy was at Sierra's side, telling her the exact same thing. The two twin brothers glanced at each other and gave a slight nod and smile before tackling two of the larger men by their legs.
Taylor let out a laugh as she watched the men trip and fall, but then let out an exclaim of surprise as one of the other men swung at her head. She ducked just in time, barely avoiding the punch. She punched him in the stomach, and then when he was doubled over, she kneed him in the face.
A large Russian came up behind her and grabbed her in a full-Nelson while another one stood in front of her and landed a punch straight in her stomach.
She let out a short groan and doubled over slightly.
"Taylor!" Sierra shouted as she was trying to hold back another guy and watched her sister get repeatedly punched in the stomach.
Murphy, Rocco, and the others weren't paying much attention, except for Connor, who kicked a guy in the groin and tackled the Russian that had been punching Taylor to the ground.
The small blonde coughed up a bit of blood as her captor released her to help his associate.
Connor had the two men down and unconscious within a few seconds. He was quick to move to Taylor's side and tried to help her up, but she pushed him away. "I'm fine," she muttered, then continued to cough, drops of blood hitting the ground in front of her as she did. After a few moments she managed to stand up, then looked to Connor, who had been standing by her side the entire time to ensure that the Russians wouldn't come at her.
Sierra and Murphy had tied one of the younger Russians up to the bar counter and were now pouring whiskey onto his ass.

Taylor laughed as they threw Connor's cigarette onto the whiskey, watching the man's rear light up in flames. Her stomach hurt from the coughing, but she couldn't contain her laughing as she braced herself against the bar counter.

Sierra slung her arm around her older sister's shoulder, then said in her ear, "Aye sis we ought to be headin' back now."

Taylor nodded slightly and slipped out from under Sierra's arm, turning to walk to the door.

" 'Ey where you ladies think you're going?" Connor called, making his way over to her and moving to stand in front of her, arms crossed over his chest.

"Uh, home maybe?" She raised an eyebrow, crossing her own arms.

"This late at night? Where do ya live, anyway?"

"Other side o' the city."

"Haha, you're real funny, thinkin' you can just go out this late at night all the way across the city," he chuckled. "Ya might as well stay at mine and Murphy's house until mornin'."

Taylor laughed a bit and slugged his shoulder lightly. "Ya can't flirt, Hun, but we'll stay with ya, just because I'm pretty sure two of the Russians took our guns and left."

Connor rolled his eyes and motioned for Murphy to come over and Taylor did the same for Sierra.

"Okay so we're staying with Connor and Murphy," Taylor told her sister, who shot Murphy a flirtatious smile. He was quick to return it and Taylor gagged, turning to Connor. He just rolled his eyes and threw a wad of money to Doc, paying for everyone's drinks and leading them out.

"You got my gun?" Taylor asked softly, shivering against the cold wind as she looked up at Connor, who walked beside her. Sierra and Murphy walked ahead, laughing and stumbling as the drunks they were.

"I got both of 'em," he answered, his voice was just as gentle as the girl's beside him. She nodded slightly in acknowledgement and thanks, turning to glance at the road ahead of them.

Connor draped his arm across her shoulders. She stiffened slightly and finally froze.

"You..okay?" He asked softly, moving his arm.

"Don't touch me," she whispered, but there was more fear in her voice than anger.

"What's wrong?" He asked.

"Just don't, Connor." She whispered, glancing at him before she jogged up to her drunken sister.

He looked after her as she walked and dragged his hand through his short hair, sighing softly. "Taylor," he called, "come here."

She turned and glanced at him, before sighing and stopping so he could catch up. He stood in front of her, looking down at her. His eyes were almost as blue as hers, and he couldn't even compare his hair to hers; the colors contrasted so much. He was almost a foot taller than her, and they wore similar clothing.

"What?" She asked, her voice calm and steady now.

"What was all that about?" Connor raised an eyebrow at her.

Taylor rolled her eyes and crossed her arms, looking up at him. "It's nothing, Connor."

"It's something alright," his lips quirked up into a smirk as he stood before her, unmoving. The wind was cold and the other two had the jackets on, but not Connor and Taylor. She shivered slightly and he watched, wanting to give her his nonexistent jacket if he could.

"Just tell me and we can go inside," he whispered, his breath showing in the cold March air.

"Fine. Abuse, rape, old boyfriends, okay?" She snapped, shaking uncontrollably now. "Is that what you wanted to hear? Is that good enough for you? Because I can tell you more, Connor MacManus, I honestly can. Hm, let's see. I almost died nine times in the last month, I've been raped 22 times in my entire life, my father and mother abused me to the point where I had actually died, Connor, but some doctor shocked me back to life, not that I even wanted to keep on living! Not in that house. Would you like to hear more? Want to know all about my life you dumb, inconsiderate, little prick!" Her voice was quiet, but harsh and angered.

She froze once again as he wrapped his arms around her, hugging her tightly.

"Just deal with it this once, okay?" He whispered quietly in her ear. "When was the last time you actually hugged someone?"

Taylor took a deep, shaky breath; still cold. Her arms wrapped around his neck as she hugged back, squeezing her eyes shut.

"I've known you for about six hours and I'm already spilling my life story to you," she couldn't help but smile, brushing a tear off her cheek.

"Eh, I listen well. Now come on ya little weirdo, it's cold." He smiled, chuckling softly.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••