Author's Note: So I just wanted to start off by saying, I'm glad everyone likes this story so far :D! We got seven reviews in 2 days! Woohoo! Also, I'm not alone on this story! I'm working with the most amazing, awesome, smart, cool editor ever (aka NothingisTrue)! She's helping me with the idea, editing, random-lines-that-are-way-better-than-I-could-think-of process :)! So, I'm not taking all the credit for this, even though it says it's only by me. It's not, and I couldn't have/can't write this without here.
Ok my random blurb is done, happy reading :)!
Chapter 2
"Murph', wha's goin' on wit' ya?" Connor asked me.
I sighed heavily, not in the mood to have this conversation. He knew what was up, so why did he need to ask?
"Don' worry abou' i', Connor," I replied, continuing to prick his skin with the small needle in my hand.
There was a moment of silence, and I knew he was trying to think of a different way of asking me. He wasn't going to let it go….he wouldn't be Connor if he did.
"Come o' Murphy," he said softly, turning around on his chair to look at me, "Ya tell me everythin'."
I just rolled my eyes, taking him by the shoulders and turning him back around. I heard him growl under his breath at my defiance, but he didn't say anything else for a minute. I was trying to get this tattoo on his back finished so I could have some alone time. Connor had already finished mine, making sure to pester me the whole time about what happened earlier tonight. It was getting on my fucking nerves.
"Is i' Bri?" he asked, breaking the tense silence that had fallen between us.
I froze, my eyes closing at her name. Why? Why did he have to bring her up?
"Er may'e Dylan?" Connor added, pouring salt on my open wounds. "Is i' 'cause yer no' talkin' to 'em? Or-"
"Connor," I snapped, inhaling deeply at the twisting pain in my chest. "please, jus'…I don' wanna talk abou' i' alrigh'?"
He nodded, knowing he had gone too far. I let out the breath I hadn't known I was holding, continuing to prick at his skin. I was almost done; there were just a few little spots I needed to clean up.
I could practically hear his thoughts: why won't he talk to me? What's wrong with him? Why won't he confront his feelings? I shook my head; I needed to distract him.
"Di' ya see the way tha' Mexican was lookin' a' us?"
"Ya, he knew 'ho we were righ' away," Connor replied, sounding uneasy.
"How woul' he even recognize us?" I asked thoughtfully, trying to keep Connor's mind from veering back to me.
"Ya don' remember the fuckin' sketches on the newschannel?" he asked.
"Oh shi' tha's righ'," I remembered.
"Fuck's sake…"
I rolled my eyes at Connor; he thought he knew everything.
"Ya know, every time ya see those composites on TV, an' they catch the guy, it looks nothing li'e him. Bu' ours..."
"Jus' our luck, righ'? We draw Leonardo fuckin' da Vinci as a sketch artis'."
I laughed darkly at that; my luck was waning thin nowadays.
"An' two days ago we looked like Jesus Chris'. Wha' the fuck we cu' our hair for?" I asked thoughtfully, pausing my work on his tattoo.
"Yeah, tha's righ'. I don' know, i' jus' seemed li'e the t'ing ta do a' the time, though, didn' i'?" he replied matter-of-factly.
"Maybe we shoul' dye i'," I suggested.
"Wha'?"
"Well, they're always dyin' their hair in the movies, li'e The Fugitive. I's covert and shit," I defended myself, hearing the condescension in Connor's voice.
"Wha' color would ya dye i'?" he asked with a slightly mocking tone.
"Lighter," I hesitated, "I guess."
"Do ya mean blonde?" he asked, beginning to laugh.
"I didn' fuckin' say tha'," I said, pointing the needle at him.
"Li'e California surfer boy-"
"Tha's not wha' I'm fuckin' saying!" I exclaimed, starting to get angry.
"Li'e gay, gay, gay, faggo'y blonde?" he continued gleefully, laughing hysterically.
"I'm fuckin' warnin' you!" I yelled.
"Stay gold, Ponyboy! Stay gold!" he raised his voice over me.
"Fuck you!" I stabbed him in the back with the needle, trying to get him to shut up.
"Ah, you fuckin' cunt! Jesus fucking Christ!" Connor yelled angrily, knocking over the jar of pennies sitting next to him.
They crashed to the floor, and Connor turned around, watching them fall and roll under the wall. He just stared at me with a look of disbelief.
"Well, I was fuckin' mad!" I retorted, though, I sounded more like I was apologizing than defending myself.
"Wha' kind o' fuckin' crazy..." Connor trailed off.
He and I started swinging at each other, but nothing seemed to connect. For a second, it was almost how we used to fight way back before this Saint's business began; the kind of fighting that let each other know that all was forgiven, no matter what crazy shit we pulled. I was snapped back to reality real quick as Romeo stepped around the corner. Connor was rooted to the spot, socked by Romeo's sudden appearance. I took a step back, my fist still held near my chest, boxer-style, ready for anything
"I know who you are," Romeo gasped, his eyes widening, "You guys are-"
"Shut i'!" Connor cut him off, angrily looking around to see if anyone had heard.
"Whoa! This is so fucking cool, man!" Romeo exclaimed happily.
"I'm from Boston, and I love you guys, shit, everybody loves you guys. Maybe I can get in on this thing. You know, bring some raza into this. Hey! Is it true that you guys say a prayer before you grease somebody?" Romeo continued to ramble on while Connor and I exchanged looks.
We grinned at each other before simultaneously throwing Romeo down, pointing our guns at his head.
"An' an awesome wailin' was heard throughou' heaven!" Connor began a fake prayer while I tried to keep a straight face.
Romeo tried to scream, but I quickly covered his mouth before continuing the prayer.
"An' the terrible han' of the Lord struck upon the Earth!"
"An' as almigh'y God created you!" Connor went on, his voice getting progressively louder. "Now... HE CALLETH YOU HOOOME!"
Connor pressed the trigger, but there was nothing but the loud, metallic click of the hammer.
"Oops, busy signal. We'll ha'e ta calleth back," Connor and I burst into hysterics, getting off of him.
"Le's have a sho' while we're waitin'!" I yelled joyously while Romeo got up and Connor continued laughing.
I picked up a bottle I had spotted earlier on the ground; Romeo must have dropped it when he came in. I let the alcohol roll down my throat, savoring the pure happiness I was feeling at that moment.
I knew it wouldn't last long.
~BDS~
"If I have to listen to him talk one more time about his motorcycle, I think I might pull all my hair out!"
I nodded, smiling at my last patient of the day while I subtly looked at my watch. Fifteen more minutes.
"Then I told him, I said 'Frank, if you like your motorcycle that much, why don't you marry it instead!'"
I nodded again, acting as if I was taking notes while I was really just mindlessly doodling. I stopped, glancing down to see what I had been drawing. I tried to keep from blushing as I saw the name 'Murphy' scrawled across the page in an almost calligraphic style. I resisted the urge to crumble it up in a ball, instead just turning to the next page of my notebook quickly. I thought it was pretty ironic that I was a certified relationship therapist; all of myrelationships work out so well.
"He drives me absolutely crazy!" she exclaimed, clenching her hands over her purple-beaded bag. "Thirty eight years of this nonsense!"
"Mrs. Jamison," I said, trying to keep my tone friendly and reasonable, "I think you need to step back and look at the big picture, here. I'm sure your husband still loves you, even more than he loves that motorcycle. He's probably just too wrapped up in it right now to realize how he's making you feel; men tend to do that."
I cringed internally; was it just me or did that have a freakish reference to my own husband?
"I suppose you're right," she sighed, visibly relaxing, "It's just hard! He's so irritating, you have no idea."
"You're responding negatively to him, too," I added, "Try taking a deep breath when he upsets you, then calmly tell him how he makes you feel. As long as he's not by the motorcycle and you have his full attention, he will hear you out."
"Ok," she nodded, "thank you so much Dr. MacManus."
That name got me every time; I had his last name for God's sake! And still, he refused to talk to me!
"That's what I'm here for," I forced a grin as we shook hands, "You have a good rest of your day."
She thanked me and walked out the door. I sighed, collapsing into my computer chair for a moment. My work was finally over, but really, my day had just begun.
I made it to Dylan's daycare, the sun almost completely set. I walked in, and the daycare significantly quieter than it was when I had been there that morning. Most of the kids were gone by now. I felt bad leaving him here for such long hours, but I didn't have much of a choice.
"Mommy!" Dylan squealed, running full-speed into the lobby.
"Hi buddy!" I exclaimed, laughing as he wrapped his arms tightly around my legs.
His teacher came around the corner two seconds later, smiling sweetly at us.
"How was he today?" I asked, mentally preparing myself for anything.
"Well," she sighed, looking at Dylan before looking at me again, "he didn't have such a great day."
"Were you difficult today?" I asked, picking him up and sticking him on my hip.
"No," he replied innocently, his eyes widening in defense.
I chuckled softly, shaking my head as I turned back to look at her, motioning for her to go on.
"He was a good participator," she continued, smiling at him, "but as far as listening….not so good. He was really rambunctious today. He was jumping around a lot, and I was having a lot of trouble getting him to sit still during quiet time."
I sighed. Could he be any more like his father?
"Ok," I replied, nodding my head, "I'm sorry about that. We're working on it."
"Don't worry about it," she dismissed, waving my apology away, "He's a good kid, don't trouble yourself, Mrs. MacManus."
Ugh, there was that damn name again.
"Well thank you," I smiled at her, reaching in the basket by the front door to get his diaper bag, "I'll see you tomorrow morning."
We exchanged goodbyes, and I headed out the door. The whole ride home Dylan talked my ear off, telling me about the different things he had learned about that day. Apparently they had learned about dinosaurs, because he was full of facts about them.
"They're estincts!" he exclaimed excitedly as we climbed the steps to our apartment.
"Extinct," I corrected gently, digging around in my purse for the key, "and, yes, they are!"
"I love them, mommy!" he babbled on happily as I pushed the door open, "I love them!"
I laughed, sighing at the delicious smell wafting from the kitchen.
"What do you love, Dylan?" Hailey asked, coming from the kitchen with spoon in her hand.
"Dinosaurs!" he exclaimed happily.
She laughed, and ruffled his hair before he ran into the living room. I came into the kitchen, falling into a chair at the table and groaning.
"Long day?" Hailey asked, raising an eyebrow at me from the stove.
"You have no idea," I complained, rubbing a hand down my face.
"Go take a bubble bath," Hailey said, holding up a hand when I opened my mouth to protest, "Go on. I can take care of Dylan for the night. You need to relax."
"Thanks," I sighed, giving her a grateful smile, "I'll make it up to you."
She waved me away with a grin, turning back to the bowl at the stove.
I filled the bathtub with hot water, and gratefully sank into the warmth. I was completely submerged in bubbles, and I closed my eyes, sighing as I leaned my head back.
"Murphy, you shouldn't be in here," I grinned, watching him walk into the bathroom.
"Wha'?" he asked innocently, "I jus' wanted some soap 's all."
"Uh huh," I replied, raising my eyebrows as he closed and locked the door.
He smiled, walking towards the tub, where I was completely under bubble-covered water with only my head sticking out. I smiled back at him, and he kneeled down, kissing me gently.
"Hi," he whispered, our noses touching.
"Hi," I whispered back, grinning.
He ran his fingers through my hair, bringing me closer for a passionate kiss. We picked up a rhythm and I ran my fingers through his hair.
"Oh look," I said in mock surprise, "your hair's all wet. Guess you'll have to get in with me now."
"I guess so," he grinned, winking at me.
He stripped down and I watched him, still amazed at the fact that he was mine. He caught me watching and I blushed, but he just laughed before crawling in with me. He pulled me to him as soon as he was settled, and moaned softly at the close contact.
"You need to visit me more often," I murmured into his chest, "Being denied this long is killing me."
"I wish I could," he replied, running a hand down my back.
He brought me up for another kiss and I deepened it almost immediately; no way was I going to waste this time we had.
He groaned as I pressed my body against his. He grabbed my hips and pulled them down on his, creating a delicious friction.
"You are gonna be the death o' me," he moaned softly in my ear, taking it in his mouth to nibble on it.
I sighed, moving my head to give him better access. He moved down my neck, sucking on it to leave his mark.
"Murphy, God," I was unable to keep from slipping from my mouth.
I was grinding against him now, unable to control my body. Had the water gotten ten times hotter than it was before?
His hands ran up and down my back. I ran my hands up his arms and gripped his shoulders. The hard, smooth skin felt wonderful against my skin, and I grinned at him before trailing my fingers down his chest. I took my sweet time, letting my hands slowly wander down his stomach, then past his belly button. His breath hitched, and I raised my eyebrows at him.
"What?" I asked innocently.
"Qui' teasin' Bri," he breathed, his eyes closed and his head thrown back.
I just laughed, running my hands back up again. It was worth the wait just to see Murphy begging under my arms like that.
He ran his hands up my legs and to the inside of my thighs. I whined involuntarily, trying to move closer to his hands. He laughed wickedly, moving away from the spot I wanted him to touch the most.
"Murphy…" I begged.
I let my fingers trail down his body again, this time not stopping at his belly button. I let them roam farther, gently-
"Mommy, I nee' to say nigh' nigh'!" Dylan exclaimed from outside the bathroom door, "Can I come in?"
I sighed shakily, rubbing my eyes and sitting up. I gathered my senses, before calling back to him.
"You can come in!"
He burst through the door, a big smile on his face and Buzz Lightyear pajamas on. He got on his tip toes, gripping the edge of the tub to lift himself up. I leaned in for him to kiss my cheek, and he did before giggling in my ear.
"Nigh' mommy," he said sweetly, smiling at me.
"Nigh' baby," I answered, softly cupping his chubby cheek.
He grinned before running off; that was obviously too much love for a kid of his boyish personality.
Fifteen minutes later, I climbed out of the bath, figuring it was time to get out. I dried off, changed into sweats, and went into the living room.
Hailey was sitting on the couch, the TV blaring some sitcom. I sat down next to her, glancing at her face. Her eyes were on the TV, but they were glazed over. She was snapping her phone opened and closed, a nervous habit of hers.
"Did Connor call yet?" I asked gently.
She shook her head no, still staring off into space. I was just about to ask her if she wanted to talk about it, when there was a knock on the door.
Hailey snapped out of it, her eyebrows furrowed as she turned to look at me.
"Are you expecting anyone?" she asked.
I shook my head, looking just as confused. She cocked her head to the side, still looking confused as she got up from the couch. She went to the front door, hesitantly opening it. Hailey let out an excited gasp.
"What?" I asked, sitting up higher on the couch to get a better look.
Hailey ignored me. I could see the back of her head, which was in the way of showing me who was at the front door. I craned my neck, on my knees on the couch now. Who was it?
I suddenly froze at the name that came softly from Hailey's lips.
"Connor…."
