Every Fool Gets a Lucky Chance Or Two
Chapter Four
Jane kept to herself for the next few days, venturing out only to go to work or to buy groceries. After three days of seclusion, she decided she wanted to see the Saints again. So, she returned to McGinty's, unsure of exactly what she was expecting out of her developing relationship with them. In the beginning, she thought knowing them would help settle her mind. She wanted to know how she felt about what they did. Everyone in Boston had an opinion, and yet she did not. The more time she spent around them, though, the more confused she became. She was finding it impossible to calm the disparities between their identities as murderers, who mercilessly slew Boston's worst criminals, and their identities as Connor and Murphy, the good-natured working class boys of South Boston. Part of her realized she needed to get away from them and stay away, but another part of her knew that would never happen. She walked into the bar despite her conflicted thoughts, sinking herself deeper into a situation she knew she should be doing everything in her power to avoid. Connor smiled widely once he saw her, wrapping his arms around her in a hug.
"I was wondering when you'd be back," he said.
Both he and his brother held cigarettes in their hands, lifting them to their lips at the same time.
"Doc, get the lady a Guiness," Murphy said, the corner of his mouth turned up in a slight smile.
"What took you so long, mo daor?" asked Connor.
"You keep calling me that," she said, curiosity spiking her voice. "What does it mean?"
"It's Gaelic. It means 'my dear,'" Connor explained. "So, mo daor, when can I take you out again?"
Murphy scowled at his brother, furrowing his brow as he took a sip of beer. Connor's question surprised her almost as much as her eagerness to answer did.
"Anytime you want, I guess," she said, smiling at him.
"How does tomorrow sound? I was thinking we could go for dinner again."
"That sounds wonderful," said Jane.
"Sorry, but could you excuse us for a moment?" Murphy asked her. "I need to have a word with my brother."
"Come on, Murph. Don't be rude. We'll talk later," Connor said.
"No, it's fine," she said. "I need to use the restroom anyway."
Murphy waited for her to walk away before beginning to speak.
"What the fuck are you doing, Connor?" he asked, his eyebrows furrowing together again.
"What do you mean?" said Connor.
"I mean, what're you doing with her," Murphy said. "We shouldn't even be here with her now. It's too risky."
"She's not going to say anything, Murph. Besides all I'm doing is taking the girl out on a few dates. That's all. She's quite lovely, don't you think?"
"I'm going home," Murphy said, downing the rest of his beer.
"Suit yourself, boyo," Connor called after his brother, watching him exit the bar.
"Where's Murphy?" Jane asked once she was back from the restroom.
"He left. Said he wasn't feeling well," Connor lied.
"Oh, no. Is he going to be okay?"
Something about the concern in her voice irritated Connor.
"Hey, enough about my brother," he said, turning toward her.
She blushed under his gaze, his eyes surveying each part of her face carefully, lingering on her lips.
"You're beautiful, you know that?" he said, his eyes travelling up to meet hers.
"Quit trying to flatter me," she said.
"I'm not. I mean it."
"What's with all of the tattoos?" she asked, changing the subject.
She touched his left arm, examining the intricate celtic cross tattooed on the top of his forearm. She had noticed it before – it was hard not to – but she'd never taken the chance to look at it up close. He smiled at her touch, watching her study the design.
"Well, you've probably noticed that they're all religious," he began to explain. "My brother and I were raised Catholic, and we've kept our faith into adulthood. So, these are our way of showing our faith and honoring God."
Jane looked at him. She had never been religious, but she had a respect for people of faith. She had never managed to keep faith in much of anything on Earth let alone anything divine.
"Is that why you...do what you do?" she asked quietly.
She waited for him to become angry with her, afraid she was overstepping her bounds. Instead, he looked at her softly.
"That's the root of it, yes," he said.
"Isn't it sort of hypocritical?" she asked, feeling braver. "Murdering murderers?"
"I guess you could say that. It's more of a sacrifice, though. Sinning to save others who probably have a better chance at a better life anyway," said Connor.
"You really believe in what you're doing," she said. "That it's for the greater good."
"Do you?" he asked her.
"I don't know," she said slowly.
"You don't know?"
"I guess that's why I've been trying to get closer to you two. I need to know how I feel about this," she said, looking at him.
"I certainly hope that's not the only thing keeping you around," he said, smiling.
She began to blush again, attempting to hide it by taking a drink from her glass.
"Can I walk you home tonight?"
xxx
They stood outside her door, the smells of the bar wafting off both of them. Jane looked up at him, feeling her nervousness causing her stomach to flutter. Connor grabbed her, pulling her into a kiss that was much deeper than the one he had given her just the night before. She melted into him, pressing her lips against his eagerly. He pushed her into her apartment door, his tongue working its way into the kiss. She could feel his hands tangling themselves up in her hair, and she opened her mouth slightly, letting him in. As his tongue brushed against hers, she could taste cigarettes on his breath. He was gently controlling the kiss, rubbing his tongue against hers, causing her to involuntarily let loose with a small, unintelligible sound. She felt him smile against her lips before continuing to kiss her, becoming more aggressive. His hands wandered down from her face to her hips, tracing over her form. She stopped him as his hands sank lower, reaching for her ass.
"Connor," she whispered, pulling away from him.
"Yes, mo daor?" he said, his mouth moving down to her neck.
She sighed in delight as his lips touched her skin. He sucked at her flesh, his teeth working the spot carefully. She could feel a mark forming as he continued to suck at her neck. She would have to work hard to cover it from her students.
"Connor, please," she begged.
She gripped his hair tightly, pulling him away from her neck. His eyes met hers, and it was clear that the last thing he wanted to do was stop. She could see the desire in his eyes, along with confusion at the sudden halt.
"What?" he asked. "Are you not going to ask me in?"
"That's a bit presumptuous, don't you think? I hardly know you," she said.
"Okay," he said.
He backed away from her, running a hand through his hair. She heard a slight sigh escape his lips, and she knew he was frustrated. She was interested in him. She just didn't want things going as quickly as they were.
"I'll see you tomorrow night," she said. "I'm looking forward to it."
"I'll be here the same time as last. 'Night," he said.
"Goodnight."
She unlocked her door as he walked away, moving inside her apartment. She shut the door and sighed. What in the world was she getting herself into?
