Chapter Two


"Might as well get yerself comfortable," Connor interrupted her thoughts, to which she had turned her attention to.

He was observing her when she turned to look at him. Even then, he still kept staring. She furrowed her eyebrows as she crossed her arms in front of her chest, "I'm fine where I am."

"Suit yerself." He said, raising his arms to rest behind his head.

His smugness was irritating her, especially so when they were acting (or he was at least) as if she was a long time friend. Not wanting to give him that satisfaction, she quickly moved over to the recently vacated seat and sat down. The speed with which she'd moved caused her headache to resurface once more.

"I can bring ye some Tylenol, if ya wish." He asked her, "I know those headaches are a killer."

"Since you're offering, I might as well take." She passively agreed, rubbing the side of her forehead that wasn't injured.

As he walked past her, she noticed the front door. Quickly, she got up from her seat and ran toward it. Her hand had turned the knob and was about to pull it open when she felt someone grab her waist and pull her away from the door.

"Let me go!" She ordered, feeling his body against hers. Elbowing him in his side, she felt his grip loosen for a second, only for him for regain his grasp on her.

"We told ya you couldn't leave," he whispered insistently in her ear. She struggled to get away from him, but his grasp on her was too strong so she did the only thing she could think to do. She kicked him in the shins. With a loud curse, he let her go.

Although she expected him to step away, he quickly moved, blocking her only exit. His face showed a mixture of surprise and annoyance. Good, she thought. She wanted to show him that she was not pleased with their decision of making her stay.

"I cannot stay here" she fumed, observing his stance. "I don't even fuckin' know where I am nor who you are."

"We tol--"

"Your names that is!" she exclaimed, her hands curling into fists out of desperation. "I cannot really believe you two just easily beat them, like that." She snapped her fingers in front of his face before turning away.

"So what happened back there wasn't just a random attack?"

"Does it even matter?" she asked, her voice mocking his tone.

"Aye."

"No, it was not." She admitted, glancing over her shoulder toward the man she had just been angry with seconds ago. The throbbing of the side of her forehead was starting again but she did not want him to notice. Rather, she walked over to the couch and sat down.

Seconds later, he walked up to her with a small white bottle in one hand and a glass of water in the other. "Take one."

She looked at it, before looking up at him. His eyes met with hers and she quickly looked away. "It'll go away on its own."

"Stop being stubborn and take the damned thing." He insisted, holding the glass and bottle out to her.

Without looking up at him, she took them except for the small bottle, which he pulled away before handing it to her. He opened the top and tipped out two pills, which he handed over. She grabbed them from him and slipped them into her mouth before gulping down the water.

"It's two already, long ways from mornin'." He said, sitting himself down in the empty chair next to the lamp. "Why don't ya get back to bed?"

She looked at the empty glass, which she was twirling in her hands. "I'm not taking your bed. I'll just stay here."

An exasperated sigh was heard before he spoke, "I'm offering the bed, for Christ's sake! If I didn't want ya to sleep, I wouldn't have offered, would I?"

She clenched her jaw before answering. "You should stop insisting. I'm not a guest."

"Fine, fine, the bed will stay empty."

There was a small click and the room was cast into darkness.

As much as she wanted to, she would not be laying down on the couch. She was tired, yes, but she did not want to fall asleep while Connor was only a couple of feet away from her. Rather, she tried to make herself as comfortable as possible while in a seated position. There was not a chance now for an escape what with having him close by.

"What's yer name?" he asked, hidden somewhere in the darkness of the room.

Although she didn't felt threatened by Connor, she did not trust him enough to give her true name. Instead, she replied with her middle name. "Victoria."

"A fine name."

She didn't say anything as she pulled her legs up to her chest. "Well, thanks." she finally whispered back.

.-.-.-.-.-.

Isabel or Victoria as she'd asked to be called, woke up with a sudden start from where she slept. Although she'd told herself that she wouldn't sleep laying down, in the end that's how she'd ended up. After stretching, she sat up.

She'd expected to see Connor where she had last seen him, though fortunately (or not), he wasn't there. There was not a sound coming from the kitchen or much less from anywhere else. The actions of last night were still fresh in her mind; although she did what she had done out of necessity, she couldn't help but to feel guilty. Yet, it still confused her as to why they had insisted she stay. They had no idea who she was nor did she care to divulge it to them, just to be on the safe side.

Her head was not bothering her as much as it had earlier, and she thanked the Tylenol as well as murmuring a thanks to Connor. Getting up, she walked toward the hall. Halfway though, she turned back to look at the door. If neither Connor or Murphy were here, then she could just leave. The idea that had once sounded promising was suddenly turned into an uncertain one. Perhaps they had a reason why she shouldn't leave. She did not like the idea that they knew more about her than she did about herself, concerning this situation, anyway.

After continuing on her way, she stopped between the two rooms. The door to the room she had been earlier was opened a couple of inches, although she didn't need to see inside it to know that Murphy would be inside. She then turned to the other door.

There was nothing special about the room, after all, it was just a bathroom. It was as empty as the living room and the bedroom. The two either had just moved in or they seriously had nothing to their name. Turning to the mirror, she stared at herself but mainly at the bandage on her forehead.

Which one of the two had treated her?

Standing close to the counter, and as close to the mirror as possible, she began pulling off the bandage by the edges. After she had gotten one edge of the bandage free, she opened the flap to observe the wound. There was a cut, not deep enough to require stitches but enough for it to have bled. Besides that, there was a very ugly bruise surrounding it.

"Connor treated that, good thing ya weren't fully conscious when he did."

Great, that only adds to the guilt, she thought without turning to see where Murphy was standing.

"He isn't necessarily known for his gentleness when treating wounds," he continued, walking up to her. She stepped backwards. "Nor is there a reason for ye to be afraid." He told her, curiously observing.

"Better caution than not." she replied, looking back at the mirror. She looked quite comical with the bandage just hanging there. With a quick tug, the bandage finally came off. Unfortunately, the skin surrounding it was tender, and she winced when she removed it.

"Can I have a look at that?"

She looked at his reflection in the mirror, a quizzical expression on her face.

"I heard the commotion ye had with Connor earlier," he commented, looking at her own reflection, "and I do not wish to go through with one if ya planning to throw one at me."

She tried not to grin over his comment but failed. "I would say let me be, but I know you two won't."

"It's nece--"

"--ssary, I know." she finished, looking at the bandage she still held in her hands.

"So, can I have a look?"

There was no question as to what he meant, referring to the injury she had sustained last night. He stepped closer to her when she'd finally agreed to let him have a look. She tried not to stare at him as he did whatever he needed to do, which no matter what it was, she'd already deemed it unnecessary. Having him that close did not make her comfortable either.

"Its healing," he informed her, stepping away. "Ya can cover it with yer hair if ya wish."

"What for if I'm not allowed to leave?" she asked, stressing the last word. It was more of an accusation than a question.

Before he could reply, she walked around him and out of the door.