Chapter 2: Answers…
Disclaimer: I own the plot, Lydia Raven, and….others.
Lydia's POV
I was sore. I was tired. I was annoyed. But most of all, I was shaken to the core. Stabbing has never been my thing, I mean dead bodies? Sure, hell I worked as a mortician for 2 years. But to actually kill someone with a blade, I suddenly felt nauseous as I felt the blood from their jugulars hot on my skin. Instinct of course, my mission: protect Murphy. Get Murphy out of Boston. Get Murphy to Florida in one piece. Then I'd be free. I glanced behind me as I walked up the 6 flights of stairs to his apartment; he was not behind me like I thought he'd be. I shrugged mostly to myself, didn't matter. Where else was he gonna go? Besides, if he was anything like Connor said, then he was curious enough to follow me to his house. He wouldn't avoid answers; he'd demand them. I sighed as I thought about the other twin and picked Murph's lock at the same time. They were fraternal; clearly personalities seemed to be on opposite sides of the spectrum. Opening the door, I glanced around. Although it was dark, my eyes could see that he was living bare. There was no couch, no television, no phone…there was a kitchen, a table covered in beer bottles and cigarette butts, and there was a small bed beneath the window. Sheetless. I wrinkled my nose and closed the door behind me, locking it. I dropped my leather coat on the bed as I passed it to check out the bathroom. Simple and small it was, but lo and behold, there was the shower. I turned on the heat and moved around quietly, just in case he opened the door at any minute. That's when my stomach growled, scaring the shit out of me along with a griping pain. Kicking off my boots, I headed to the fridge. Surprisingly, there were neatly stacked plastic containers with labels on them. I took out one that said 'chicken salad', scanned the counter for bread finding none I washed and used the single fork in the sink. Pure bliss after the first bite, I devoured the rest after realizing that this was the first decent thing I'd eaten since I left home. Sighing again, this time with a full stomach I headed to the shower. Murphy really needed to hurry up, we had much to discuss.
Murphy's POV
I sat outside for a minute, staring at the picture of me and Con like it was the Holy Grail. This girl…this kid said that people wanted him dead. They'd tried. She stopped them. My cigarette was forgotten as I tossed it and headed upstairs. I didn't see her as I walked home; thinking maybe she decided tonight wasn't a good night to collect me. I smirked as I recalled her face in my head after she realized she killed the men. She tried to brush it off, but those beautiful green eyes were huge with shock as their blood soaked the snow. That's when I knew, and I allowed myself to relax a bit. She wasn't a killer…but my brow furrowed as I opened the door to my apartment and noticed the warm temperature and her shoes. *Not a killer, but a decent criminal.* I thought. My lock was pick proof, or so I thought. I've tried to pick it myself a couple times just to be sure. Pulling off my coat, and kicking off my shoes; I clenched my jaw as I saw the steam come from underneath the bathroom door. I'd be out of hot water tonight, I just knew it. Half of me wanted to storm in there and grab her out of my shower, force her to explain but patience is a virtue. I could hear Con sing that to me in his annoying voice…the first time in 4 years that I'd heard his voice so clear I almost whispered 'shut up.' Ignoring what was going on in my bathroom, I headed to the fridge to grab a beer when the container on the counter made me freeze again. Narrowed eyes glared through at the bathroom door, now my patience was threading thin ice. Soon to shatter. I reached into the counter, relieved that nothing was disturbed, took out my Beretta, and checked for my stash. Nothing was missing. *Maybe she's not a thief...but still* I sighed, tightened the suppressor on my favorite gun before closing the drawer, taking a seat at the table and waiting. I lit a cigarette as the shower stopped. I almost smiled, almost excited as I realized that this girl may be a step between. *Ready for answers.*
OMN POV
Lydia came out of the bathroom expecting Murphy. Especially after she smelled his cigarette smoke; that's when she decided it was now or never. Pity he only had one towel, and it was filthy. Lucky for her, the bra she decided on was merely a black sports bra, and instead of panties, she wore black boxers. Glancing at herself in the mirror, she saw herself now and could almost hear her sister's voice. *Pretty little pixie* "Shut up." She whispered, opening the door. As expected, Murphy sat at the table, his eyes on the bathroom door. When she opened it, their eyes met once again briefly before his gaze lowered, his face immediately colored, and his eyes snapped back up to hers as she cleared her throat. "Got another square?" she asked quietly. His mouth closed, realizing his was still burning and motioned to the table where the box was. She seemed comfortable, he noticed, as she walked towards him, took a cigarette, the lighter and leaned against the counter in the kitchen. He'd never seen a girl in boxers before, but nothing was turning him on more. *Focus,* he berated himself, and his growing erection. "You gonna ask your questions or stare?" she had an eyebrow raised at him and he inwardly shook himself to attention. "Your name would be nice." He tried to be like Connor, he tried to ease into conversation to prevent his primal nature from taking over and tearing her to pieces (sexually), getting his answers and pleasure at the same time. She seemed to know what he was thinking because she pulled herself on the counter to hunch over covering most of her visible abdomen. "Do you want the truth?" There was a low thud. Lydia didn't even have to look down to know that his gun was pointed at her. "And unlike yours lass, mines loaded." She held his gaze evenly while taking a deep drag. "Lydia Raven." He didn't believe her, she could tell by the way his eyebrows were drawing closer together and his thumb rubbed against the hammer, but she didn't appear afraid, only patient for his next question. "So. Lydia." His keen eyesight saw her body shiver as he purposefully rolled her name off of his tongue. "What brings you to stalk me, and kill my assassins?" the way he said was condescending, they both knew it. Lydia's nose twitched but she ignored her rising annoyance, remembering he had the upper hand in this situation; she smiled at him instead. "Connor asked me to." "Bullshit." Came his immediate response. Lydia rolled her eyes upwards, "You're right." She said, "Il duce did." PING. The bullet hit the cupboard next to Lydia's head, shattering whatever was inside. "This next one goes in between ya eyes." Murphy warned slowly. Lydia didn't even blink, only continued to smoke. They sat in silence until her cigarette was gone. *he fuckin shot at me* came her original thought, *blindside him, beat his ass, take his cash, go back to Florida and say he's dead* came her next couple thoughts before she calmed herself down. This was bigger than petty emotion, and there would be plenty time to get him back. Murphy watched Lydia battle inside herself. When he shot, he didn't aim at her, he'd never kill a woman. But he didn't want her to call his bluff either, and she looked like she was gonna raise hell for a couple seconds, then her eyes went back to being the calmer shade of olive as she looked up from ashing the butt in the sink. "My name is Lydia Raven. I am the daughter of some rich drug warlord whom your father is currently looking for. One fine night 4 years ago, some Irish fellow from Boston comes waltzing in my bar, capturing my sister's attention. They've been inseparable ever since. But now, my father has decided its time for us girls to prove our use and we've been promised to other rich drug lord assholes. Only one problem. The youngest is no longer a virgin. Your brother made sure of that." "After 4 fuckin' years he'd better have." Murphy grumbled, but during her narrative the gun managed to find its way the table as Murphy fumbled around for another cigarette. Lydia ignored him. "Long story short, Londyn and Connor are in hiding. My family wants them dead, her fiance's family and the Sos." (pronounced sauce) "Sos?" Murphy questioned, lighting his cigarette. Lydia slid off the counter and accepted the one he took a hit of when he handed it to her. "Service order of Sin. Your family is known for vigilante justice, mine is known for ruthlessness. They are known to do the CIA's dirty work. Who would have thought we'd ever meet, and instead of us kill each other, we have a Romeo and Juliet type situation." Murphy's eyebrows rose, "We?" Lydia blushed and took a sharp drag, "Londyn and Connor. He couldn't write you because after they were found out last year, he didn't want to lead anyone to you." Murphy nodded and she handed his cigarette back, "So why did you come looking for me? you off the books or something'?" for the first time, something of guilt appeared in Lydia's eyes. "I'd like to think I was doing everyone a favor…but honestly I just wanted to get out…I was tired of that life. After Sos came and burned my bar to the ground, Duce made us move to-" she suddenly paused and tilted her head to the side. "I'll tell you everything you want to know, but we need to leave." When Murphy heard the concern in her voice, he sighed and stood, going to the kitchen and shoving his hidden cache into a knapsack he kept underneath the sink. "Are people here?" he asked with edge to his voice. Lydia nodded. " I assume they found the deadbeats. Lesson one: all enemies are bugged with a locator chip." Murphy threw his pack over his shoulder and kept one of his guns in his hand, headed for the front door. Lydia made a noise in her throat similar to a whine. "Sorry Macmanus, I don wanna gunfight out of here." Murphy narrowed his eyes at her, "We're on the 6th floor." She smiled at him and went to his window anyway. "If you trust me, you'll live." She didn't look at him while she worked, but he watched as she pulled a set of grappling hooks from her leather jacket. He went to the door anyway and opened it slowly. He could hear what she heard now, more than just 2 men this time and they were all coming up the stairs. Closing the door softly, he went to the window she held open. "Put this on, around your waist." She handed him a belt like cord and went back towards his bathroom. He looked up as he finally got situated, "What the hell are you doin?" he asked as the scent of bleach hit his sinuses. Within seconds, bleach was poured and aerosol cans were placed in and on the stove. "Following you," came her breathless reply as she met him in the window. "Do you trust me?" she asked with a smirk. Their bodies were so close, her lips brushed over his but before he could answer, Lydia clipped herself to his belt, she grabbed his jacket, and his gun. Aimed at the stove, the door opened. She shot. BOOM. His apartment exploded, throwing them from the building. Lydia's only done this sort of thing with her sister or someone smaller than her. Murphy Macmanus wasn't a giant, but he wasn't exactly a flee either, and she grunted as his body mashed against hers as they both hit the building across the ally. The grappling hooks allowed Murphy to have a grip on the wall and they began to work their way down, looking like an attached specimen. That's when the screams started, sirens, and people began flooding the streets to witness and gossip about what was happening. Nobody saw the two figures, dressed in dark jackets walk away from the wreckage.
