I knocked, praying to God she was home and I was thrilled when the boys' downstairs neighbor opened her door. A look of puzzlement crossed her features briefly as I hugged her. "Gran!" I exclaimed. "I was looking around upstairs like you asked and this fella wanted to see me home." I pulled back, my eyes, wide, pleading.
"Aye. Not in any trouble are ya?"
"No ma'am. Just seeing the young lady out of the crime scene." His pager went off on his belt. He pushed a button, excused himself and left.
When the outside door downstairs clanged shut, I turned to the neighbor. "Your Irish needs work, lass," she informed me.
"I know it was awful, but I couldn't think."
"Have ye seen the boys?"
"No," I replied, "I was gonna ask you the same thing."
"Heard a scuffle up there this morning. Lots a shouting and carryin' on. Then sounded like the ceiling was gonna cave in. Then it got quiet til I heard the gunshots, then quiet again. Went down half an hour after. Two dead men and no sign of the boys."
Dammit.
It must have showed in my face, because she patted my hand. "It'll be alright, lass." Using Connor's nickname for me just twisted the knife a little deeper. "They're together."
That was true. I nodded, giving her a weak smile. "Come in, girl. Have a cup of tea," she said, motioning me through the door. Murphy's nickname too. She was gonna kill me.
"Maybe later," I said softly. "I have one more place to check."
She nodded. "All right, then."
I hugged her again and turned to head down the stairs. "Oi," she cried from the top step. "You'd not imagine the parade of tarts that used to come up these stairs with those boys. Girls with no shame, no pride. Then you started coming around and it all stopped." I felt my eyes filling up. "I don't know exactly what there is between you and those boys, but if they're alive, they'll find ye, lass. Believe me."
I nodded again, not trusting my voice, and continued down the steps.
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I walked to McGinty's, hoping to see Doc behind the counter, he wasn't. Damn afternoon guy.
Just as well I supposed as I ordered a beer, walked to a booth, and sat down, my back to the wall, facing the door. I had to get my shit together. What the hell was I doing? Damn near bursting into tears everytime I turned a corner. I counted days in my head as I sipped my beer. No. Still a good week away from the weepy spoke on my menstrual cycle. Then what the hell?
Oh Christ, I thought eyeing my beer suspiciously. What if I'm pregnant? Now that was a terrifying thought. Shouldn't be. I'm on the pill. No, I decided, that wasn't it. No real basis for that decision other than it was too horrifying to deal with just now.
It was already six o clock and I was beat. Emotionally and physically drained and the fact that I was so emotionally drained bothered me and left me more physically drained. It wasn't so much a question of why I cared if they were okay, I mean anyone who had ever met them would care if they were okay. What bothered me was why I cared so much. Beyond a healthy amount I felt. This was almost obsession, this was weird, this was a lot like lo-
My eyes widened and my brain slammed a steel fire door on that particular line of thought. That couldn't be it. There were two of them, I couldn't bear to choose between them and one person didn't fall in love with two people at once. It was physically impossible. Wasn't it?
My head pounded trying to wrap my mind around exactly what the hell I was feeling. I slugged down the last of my beer and was walking up to the bar to order another when the same thin suit popped up on the TV screen. "Turn that up," I demanded of the afternoon guy. He did. The chief of police was standing in front of the neighborhood precinct and talking at what looked like an impromptu press conference. "The McManus brothers are not being charged with a crime. This was a clear cut case of self defense. They will be released at an undisclosed time and location in accordance with their wishes."
It suddenly felt like the world had been lifted off of my shoulders. I had to sit down to make sure I didn't start dancing, I was so happy. The afternoon guy brought my beer and I drank half of it in one pull. I heard the door open behind me and saw Rocco walking in, looking around.
I dropped off my stool and the movement caught his attention. He waved my note at me as he moved in my direction. I took three long steps toward him. "They're okay," I half-said, half-asked.
Rocco nodded and I barreled into him, wrapping my arms around his middle, pressing my face into his chest and the tears I had been keeping in check all day broke free. To his eternal credit, Rocco just stood there, hugging me back, shushing me softly and gently rubbing my back. All the worry and stress flooding out of me in a downpouring of saltwater, soaking his shirt, leaving my face swollen and puffy and my nose snotty. Slowly I hot ahold of myself and pulled back from him, wiping my face and nose with the back of my hand. "Sorry," I said, taking a step back, shaking my head, "Sorry, Roc, it's just been…Holy shit, what happened to your eye?" I asked really looking at him for the first time.
He smirked at me and motioned me to a booth. I grabbed my beer off the bar and ordered him one as he came up behind me. As I turned back to him I caught him eyeing a green shopping bag behind the bar. He tried to play it off but I had seen it and ignored it. I'd get my chance.
We slid into a booth and he laid out the gory details. The Russians, the boys, the visit the next morning, the hospital and now the jail.
"But they're okay?" I asked him when he finished.
"Yeah," he agreed, tapping ashes as I lit my own cigarette. "More or less in one piece."
I exhaled smoke through my nose, nicotine and relief racing through my body, my day's tension ebbing. "So they'll stay at the jail tonight?"
"Yup," he said, sipping his beer.
"So what precinct?" I asked, checking my pocket for my keys.
Roccos's eyes widened over the rim of his mug. Swallowing slowly, he put it down. "Um," he began, "Why?"
I frowned at him, my eyebrows gathering. "What the hell do you mean 'why'?" I asked. "So I can go see them."
"Uh, yeah," he began, looking down at his hands, "I –uh- can't tell you that."
I felt the expression drain from my face. "Really?" I asked, an audible chill in my voice. Rocco looked up at the sound of it then quickly back down at his hands. "Why not?"
"They, uh, kinda told me not to."
"Did they?" I asked, annoyance mixed with almost-anger creeping up my spine and coloring my words.
Rocco was, very wisely, keeping his eyes down as he nodded.
"Why, pray tell?"
"Um, well, they didn't want you to get mixed up in anything that might have come from all of this."
A twinge of appreciation threatened to flare up in my stomach, thinking it was very sweet that they thought of me, but the annoyance quickly stomped a steel-toed boot on it telling it to shut up. "Really?" I asked Rocco, as I heard my joints crack where my fingers had clenched white-knuckled around my lighter. "How very condescending of them."
Knowing Donna's propensity for random acts of violence, I figured Roc was fairly adept at avoiding conflicts with an unreasonable female when he needed to be and frankly he was doing fairly well. He looked from my hands up to my face then back down again, don't engage the crazy girl. IN spite of myself I snorted a little laugh through my nose and watched him tense. Honestly I couldn't imagine what was going through his head. First I was crying, then happy, then pissed and now bordering on hysteria. I was tempted to break into a manic giggle just to fuck with him, but it wasn't really his fault, so I reeled myself in, slowly releasing my death grip on the lighter and taking a few deep breaths. "It's ok, Roc," I said my voice even once more, and he looked up at me and I saw some of the tension leak from his shoulders. "You're just the messenger."
He sighed. "They really were just trying to help. Keep you out of trouble."
"Mm-hmm," I agreed. "Anything else they said?"
He cleared his throat, "Well, to tell you they'd see you as soon as they could when they got out."
I gathered my cigarettes and slid out of the booth. "Sure," I said standing. "If you see them before I do, tell them I'll be at home," I said the last word as I started for the door. I heard Rocco struggling for a response behind me as the door closed.
Lighting up, I crossed the street and entered another bar and took up a seat by the window, looking out, watching Doc's front door. I smoked and drank for 15 minutes until Rocco walked out empty-handed. I grinned, waited another ten, finished my beer and walked back across the street.
The afternoon guy was getting a little swamped and barely glanced up when I walked in. I headed back to the booth where I had been sitting alone, then moved to where Roc and I had been sitting, patting my pockets and looking confused. Scanning the floor I walked up to the bar and leaned. A couple of the regular guys asked me if I had heard anything from Connor, I answered vaguely. I hadn't heard from them, but they were both ok. Catching the sleeve of the afternoon guy as he rushed past I tugged, "Hey, I think I lost my keys in here, can you check if anybody's turned them in?"
"Um," he said, eyeing the rapidly filling bar and the two drinks in his hand.
"Oh right," I said, following his gaze, "Um, you think I could squeeze back there real quick and check?"
"Um," he said, looking up and down the bar. "Sure," he said as he rushed past. Nodding I squeezed around the back of the hardwood and headed for the little green shopping bag. Lifting it, I set it on top of the bar and started to rifle through the lost and found. "Find 'em?" he asked as he slid past me.
"No" I said, standing and exiting from behind the bar. "Guess I must have dropped em somewhere else. Thanks, though," I said, grabbing the bag from the bar and heading out the door. Once in the street, I pulled my keys from my pocket, tossing them and catching them.
They'llseemewhentheycan? I thought to myself as I headed for home. Mm-hmm,we'llseehowbadlytheywantthisbagwhentheygetout.I had no idea what was in it, but it was heavy as hell. I'd look when I got to the apartment. Hmph,protectingme.LikeI'msomedelicateflowertheyneedtowatchoutfor.Iamnoone'sdelicateflower,gentlemen, I thought to myself, as I walked. Justwait.
