AN Here's another chapter to get you more into the story. Thanks again to GoddessLaughs for her beta abilities.
Chapter 2
"My feet are fuckin' freezing," Murphy complained.
"If ye'd wash yer socks, ye wouldn't 'ave that problem now, would ye?" Connor told him.
"If ye'd stop stealing my socks, I wouldn't 'ave that problem," Murphy countered, throwing an empty beer can at his brother.
It was late afternoon and the twins had just rolled out of bed to a breakfast of cold pizza and warm beer. Connor reached into his pants pocket and pulled out a crushed pack of cigarettes. Taking one out, he tossed the pack to Murphy before lighting up.
Murphy eyed his brother evenly, waiting until Connor tossed him the lighter before asking the question that had been on his mind since the previous night.
"What the fuck were ye thinkin' last night?" he asked.
Connor exhaled a puff of smoke and rubbed his eyes. "Thinkin' 'bout what?"
"Letting that fuckin' girl see ye."
Murphy was no fool, especially when it came to his twin. He knew that it had been sheer impulse – a common courtesy in any other situation – but it hadn't been any other situation. His brother should have known the second he offered that girl a light that it would come back to bite him in the arse.
Connor shrugged dismissively as if trying to avoid the issue. "Just being polite."
Murphy scoffed at him. "Ye risked getting us caught."
"She never saw us doin' anything," Connor protested, eyes looking everywhere but at his brother.
"Maybe not, but she can place ye there now."
"What does it matter?" Connor asked, frustration more than evident in his tone. "It's been four fuckin' years. If they'd wanted t' catch us, they would'a done it by now."
Murphy launched another beer can at his brother's head. Connor barely ducked in time to miss being hit. "Yer a fuckin' idiot. We can't do our work in jail."
"Sure we can," Connor deliberately provoked his twin. "What better place for us? Full of fuckin' criminals. We could deliver dozens a day."
"And get ourselves killed in the process?" Murphy took the bait, his voice beginning to rise, his body tensing for the physical fight he was pretty sure would break out in a minute. "What the fuck is wrong with ye?"
"Nothing's fuckin' wrong with me! She needed a fuckin' light, okay? It's no big deal." Murphy didn't miss the note of defeat in his brother's voice, the unspoken request to end the argument.
But he wasn't finished just yet. He went in for the kill, leaning ever so slightly over the litter-covered kitchen table. "Just because yer a fuckin' horny bastard doesn't give ye the right t' be jeopardizing our entire fuckin' mission!"
"Fuck ye, Murph! Haven't ye seen how fucked up this is? We can't – we can't ever be normal. I can't even light a girl's fag without puttin' us at risk." He ran a hand over his face and met his brother's eyes. "I wonder – is it really worth it, brother?"
The brothers stared each other down, struggling with each other silently, their deep, intrinsic bond allowing them to know and respond to what the other was thinking without ever saying a word.
Finally satisfied that Connor was genuinely conflicted and not merely horny, Murphy sat back and took a long drag on his cigarette, contemplating his next move. Every year or so they went through this – one or the other or both of them questioning their call or their ability to carry through their mission from God. Their differentness from the rest of the world, their self-imposed isolation from 'normal' life or their inability to completely eradicate evil usually sparked the doubt, and these were never pleasant times.
In the past, their Da would set them aright – sitting them down and preaching at them until they recalled their purpose and passion. He'd since left them on their own, deeming them ready to carry on the family tradition without his help. More recently, the brothers took turns holding each other in check, sometimes arguing things out, sometimes physically beating on each other till they came around.
Looking at Connor now, Murphy knew he needed something – something to light the fire in him again. He wasn't sure what that something was yet, but he knew it had better come soon. His brother had seemed especially discontent of late.
And then, as though in answer to this unspoken need, the phone rang.
Murphy took another long drag on his cigarette before picking up the receiver. "Aye?"
He listened quietly and smoked furiously for a few minutes before shoving pizza boxes and other debris littering the beat up kitchen table aside, looking for the pen he knew he'd left there somewhere. Coming up triumphant, he tucked the phone between his ear and shoulder and jotted a name and address onto the lid of an old pizza box. "Cheers," he finally said before hanging up.
"Qui est que?" Connor asked. Who was that?
"The good Lord himself," Murphy told him, tearing off the cardboard and tossing it at his brother.
"Jarvis Henly?" Connor read out his brother's hastily scribbled note. "What's his problem?"
"Oh, the usual fuckin' fare – bookie, dealer, mob-thug. But this fucker's also particularly fond of your favorite sins – beatin' on women and children."
Connor nodded darkly and Murphy smiled to himself. Bastards like that always managed to cut through the doubt.
"When?" Connor asked.
"Tomorrow night's best, I'm told."
Murphy searched through the boxes on the table and pulled out a greasy slice of what looked like pepperoni pizza. He put it on top of one of the empty boxes as a makeshift plate and walked it over to his brother, holding it out like a peace offering. "Eat something," he told Connor.
Connor stubbed out the last of his cigarette before taking the proffered gift. "She was fuckin' hot though, wasn't she?" he commented with a grin.
Murphy ruffled his twin's unruly hair then cuffed the back of his head. "Aye, that she was."
----
"Evie, you have to eat," Anna urged her sister, who was pacing, wearing a path in the already thin motel carpet.
Evie shook her head vaguely. "Not hungry."
They'd spent the day in a flurry of activity, just as Anna had suspected they would. Under the ruse of supplying Anna's cop friend more 'information' about the previous night's murder, they managed to gather some decent intelligence on the Boston Police Department's personnel, schedules and habits. Later, they went to a downtown pub for lunch where Anna managed to suss out the name of a local weapons supplier from an unsuspecting bookie. At the supplier's, Evie haggled with the slimy dealer for about twenty minutes over the price of two .45 millimeters and two silencers. By the time she was done with him, he claimed he was practically letting them steal the weapons from him. For that, she made him toss in a stun gun, just to teach him a lesson in 'chivalry'.
Disguises were next on the list – two ridiculous Betty Boop masks. The girls made a great show in the costume store of pretending to fight over what to dress up as for Halloween. They finally settled on the Betty Boop masks after convincing two other women in the store to choose the same items. They joked about possibly showing up at the same party and how confusing it would be for all their friends. They laughed over the idea of starting a Betty Boop gang, seducing men away from their money all over the country. The sisters, of course, were more concerned with throwing the cops off their trail, should it come to that.
Surgical gloves were last on the list, purchased from a medical supply store and paid in cash, just like everything else.
On top of all that, Evie had made Anna drive past their step dad's house what felt like a thousand times, as though she were afraid it would suddenly pick itself up by its foundation and walk away.
Anna knew that everything had to be perfect. Evie had reminded her at intervals throughout day that they only had one shot at this and that it had to be right.
"You would be hungry if you tried eating," Anna insisted, holding out a French fry to her sister. Evie took it as she passed by and nibbled at it absently, lost in her own little world, no doubt obsessing about the task that now loomed ominously before them.
Without warning, a sudden, fearful chill washed over Anna as she watched her sister pacing back and forth in the small room. Something wasn't right. She couldn't put her finger on it, but she couldn't shake the sickening feeling that if they did what they'd come to do tonight, there would be a terrible price to pay. The feeling grew stronger and Anna swallowed hard, every instinct screaming at her to wait, to do anything but what they intended to do tonight.
But how to tell Evie? Her sister was engulfed in a cocoon of nervous, ready energy and wouldn't take the suggestion lightly. "I think we should wait," Anna finally ventured softly, intently watching her sister's reaction.
Evie stopped abruptly and stared at Anna as though she didn't recognize her. Anna herself hardly recognized her sister, her green eyes seemed possessed and…other. "What?"
"Something's not right. We can't do this tonight," Anna urged gently.
Evie's fists clenched. "We have to. We're committed," she insisted.
"No, we're not. No one knows but us, Evie." Anna watched her sister's body language carefully. She didn't miss the angry flinch that passed over Evie's face. Her eyes were cold, hard and vacant – she was primed; she was ready; she needed this… but not tonight. Something wasn't right.
"I have to," Evie said again, not breaking eye contact with her sister, leveling a silent challenge at her.
Anna knew she couldn't back down. She'd seen Evie in this state before, during their stepfather's trial. There was no point in trying to fight with her. The trick was to stay calm and not be intimidated by her anger.
"Evie, please," Anna urged, reaching out and tentatively touching her sister's hand, using physical contact to try to break through Evie's silent cocoon. Her hand was cold and trembling. Evie recoiled slightly and Anna thought for a minute that she might lash out and hit her.
Instead, she shook her head and seemed to come out of her trance. She returned her hand to Anna's, her eyes suddenly flooded with an ache and sadness that nearly broke Anna's heart. "I don't know how much longer I can wait," she said, her voice husky and tremulous.
"I know," Anna said soothingly, kissing her sister's hand, exuding as much calm as she could muster. "I just…I have a really bad feeling about tonight."
Evie sat down on the end of one of the beds, looking completely deflated. Anna knew the fight was over. Evie was too tired and Anna had proved on more than one occasion that she had a kind of sixth sense about these kinds of things. She moved to sit behind her sister. Taking out the hair elastic at the end of Evie's long braid, she shook out her hair, running her fingers through the thick black locks. She didn't know what it was, but playing with her hair always managed to have a calming effect on Evie. Sure enough, her shoulders started relaxing as tension started ebbing away.
"Let's watch a movie," Anna suggested, reaching for the remote. "We haven't done that since we got here."
The television flickered to life and images whipped past as Anna searched for something to watch, finally settling on Dirty Dancing: Havana Nights. Evie scoffed half-heartedly. "This is the cheesiest movie ever."
Anna grinned. "I know. But the dancing's hot and the main actor guy is dead sexy."
"Do you even know his name?"
"What does it matter? He's just fucking tasty. I'd totally do him."
Evie shook her head. "You're the horniest woman I've ever met, you know that, right?"
Anna laughed. "Better believe it, sister."