Chapter 6

The first thing Connor noticed when he came to was the pounding in his head that would rival any hangover he had ever had. His vision was blurry but he could sense a presence nearby. Assuming it was his brother, he groaned lightly before attempting to call out to him.

"Murph? What the hell happened?" When there was no response he squinted, trying to make out the shapes around him. "Murphy?" he questioned again, his tone becoming laced with concern.

"Nope, try again."

A voice in Connor's ear caused him to flinch and jerk away in surprise and he noticed for the first time that he couldn't move his arms or his legs. Craning his head around, he tried to catch a glimpse of the man who had spoken to him but the ache in his head stilled his efforts.

As he became more alert, his vision cleared and he was able to get a better look at his surroundings. He was seated in a cold steel chair in the middle of what appeared to be one of the prison's educational rooms. The inky blackness beyond the barred windows told him that night had fallen, suggesting he had been out of it for a couple of hours at least. Struggling weakly, he tested his restraints, and felt the harsh metal of handcuffs digging into the soft flesh around his wrists. His ankles were fastened in a similar fashion to the legs of the chair he was seated on.

"We've been waiting for you to wake up, Saint." The voice came again, tainted with obvious disdain, and Connor felt certain that he recognized the cadence of speech, although he couldn't place it in his still fuzzy memory. "Your brother has been worried about you. Which, if you ask me, is rather foolish of him. You are in much better shape than he is at the moment."

Connor's heart pounded in his chest at the mention of Murphy and he lashed out in rage at the implication of the statement. "You fucking coward, where the fuck is he?!" he demanded, trying again to twist around and get a look at the man behind him.

A firm set of hands clamped down on Connor's shoulders and his chair was forcefully spun around until he had a clear view of the other side of the small room. The scene that greeted him sparked a fury in his heart of unparalleled proportion.

Murphy and Romeo were seated next to each other, both restrained to separate chairs in the same manner that Connor was. Romeo looked as if he had taken quite a beating, with blood flowing from a spot on his brow and one eye that was swollen partially shut. The man looked up at Connor before glancing worriedly over at Murphy who appeared to have taken the brunt of their captor's displeasure and was hunched over in his chair, blood covering one whole side of his head, eyes glazed in pain.

Connor was more than a little alarmed by his brother's seemingly weak and damaged state and he felt his ire raise another notch. "You guys alright?" he asked in a low voice, anger bleeding into his tone.

Murphy snapped his eyes up to meet his brother's and Connor was relieved to see the usual spark of resilience in their depths. Any response that his twin might have formed was cut off as the voice behind him continued speaking.

"Do they fucking look alright to you?" The question was followed by a hollow laugh as the mystery voice finally revealed itself, stepping around the chair into his captive's line of sight.

Connor looked up into the slightly bruised face of George Maddox and narrowed his eyes in contempt. It wasn't surprising to learn that the other convict was behind this. He had known the other man was going to be a problem from the first moment he saw him eyeballing Murphy.

"Although," Maddox continued, "it's no less than what you crazy, fucking Jesus freaks, deserve." He gave the chair a kick with a look of disgust on his face.

Connor gave a humorless laugh and shook his head at the ridiculousness of the statement. "What we deserve? That's a funny thing to say, coming from a murderer of the innocent. Tell me, what do YOU deserve? Do you really fucking believe that you deserve to continue living and breathing after all the pain you have caused in your life? The families of the people you have killed and raped, don't they deserve their justice?"

Connor's rant was interrupted as Maddox's heavy fist connected solidly with his face once, then twice. "I am paying for my crimes, you Irish piece of shit!" Grabbing a handful of Connor's hair he pulled his head up and dropped down eye level with him. "I get to spend the rest of my life in this fucking shit hole. Life without parole." Maddox gave his captive a vicious shake before releasing his hold and standing back up to his full height. "I am paying for my fucking crimes and it is time someone made you pay for yours." Without warning, he hauled off and punched Connor in the head again, landing several blows before targeting his exposed chest and abdomen.

On the other side of the room Murphy was using what little strength he had left cursing and fighting his restraints, his brother's pained groans fueling his struggle. This entire situation brought back the still raw memories of the night they lost Rocco. The handcuffs. The chairs. The pain. The fear. It was that last one that motivated Murphy to push through the darkness at the edges of his vision and continue fighting despite the pull on his injured body.

Romeo felt an overwhelming sense of helplessness as he sat, looking back and forth between the two brothers. He was torn between trying to calm Murphy down, and joining him in cursing at the man who was still slowly but deliberately working Connor over.

After seeing the damage that Murphy was inflicting upon himself by struggling against the handcuffs, Romeo decided that talking his friend down was more important than putting up a useless fight against the metal and steel holding them down.

"Murph. Murphy! You're hurting yourself, man. This isn't helping!" His attempts went unheeded as his friend continued to rage in the seat next to him. Every hit that Connor took only increased Murphy's intensity until he managed to scoot his chair several feet from its original spot, nearly tipping himself over in the process.

Geno, who had been patiently waiting for his turn to join the fun, stepped away from his spot along the perimeter of the room and strode over to where Murphy was still fighting like a wild animal.

Romeo eyed the large Italian man walking their way and, by the way he was glaring at Murphy, it wasn't hard to guess his intentions. Turning back to his friend he tried desperately to get through to him once more. "Murphy! Look at me, man! You have to calm down!" But it was to no avail.

Murphy was far too stubborn to stop fighting, no matter how hopeless or pointless the situation seemed, especially when it was his brother on the line. Every time the sound of knuckles meeting flesh resounded off the concrete walls, Murphy felt the fire of his fury grow inside his soul.

So intent was he on trying to stop what was happening on the other side of the room, he didn't notice that someone had come up behind him until Geno's meaty arm snaked around his chest and sinking into his neck.

Dropping his mouth down low to Murphy's ear, Geno spoke quietly, his thick Italian accent blending with his mocking tone. "Shhhhh Shhhhh. Relax. Relax. Conserve your energy. This show is just getting started."

Murphy refused to acknowledge the fear that was trying to take hold of him. Denying the paralyzing emotion, he shoved it down deep and allowed all of his rage to flood in and take its place. "Fuck you!" he spat out, fighting against the other man's hold on him.

Geno gritted his teeth as he attempted to control the struggling man. "You really are a fiery one, aren't you?"

Murphy brought his chin down as far as he could, intending to show the Italian man just how feisty he could be. In one fluid motion, he threw his head back and heard the satisfying crunch of Geno's nose as it connected with the back of his skull.

Geno's hands flew to his face as he stumbled backwards, howling in pain. "You motherfucker!"

The injured convict stepped out in front of him and Murphy flashed a smug grin when he saw the blood leaking through the infuriated man's fingers as he cradled his nose.

Swiping at the blood, Geno gingerly prodded his already swollen and bruised nose before turning a lethal glare onto Murphy. "You are going to pay for that you mick fuck! You better start praying to that God of yours, boy, because that was the last thing you will ever do!"

On the outside Murphy remained the picture of calm as he forced the smirk to remain plastered across his face, but on the inside, his blood ran cold. His body had already taken more abuse than he felt it could handle and he was silently dreading the beating that was to come.

Geno brought his fist back and threw his entire body into the punch, landing his knuckles squarely into the side of Murphy's head. The hit was so powerful it rocked the chair, as well as the man chained to it, backwards, sending them both crashing to the ground.

Bright colorful spots burst in front of Murphy's vision and he was vaguely aware of a brief feeling of weightlessness before landing in a tangled heap right at Romeo's feet.

"Shit! Murphy!" Romeo called out when his friend hit the ground in front of him. He could tell by the way the Murphy lay stunned, trying to blink his vision clear, that he was in bad shape. Geno stepped up to Murphy's side and Romeo arched against his restraints, failing in his attempt to kick out at him. "Get the fuck away from him, pendejo!"

Geno paid no mind to the other prisoner, his anger focused solely on the bleeding man on the ground. As he stepped forward, he brought his leg back before swinging it forward full force, delivering a crushing kick to Murphy's abdomen.

Murphy felt like he was on the verge of blacking out until Geno's foot connected with his ribcage and he felt something snap. The searing pain that exploded across his midsection pulled him back from the darkness as his cries echoed off the walls in the small room.

Maddox landed a final punch to Connor's stomach when he heard the sound of Murphy crying out. Leaving Connor slumped over in his chair, he turned to face the commotion on the other side of the room.

"Geno, what in the hell are you doing over there? I told you I would give you your chance with them! It's not your turn yet!"

Geno stopped with his leg in mid-swing, preparing to land another blow, and spun to face an annoyed Maddox. "The bastard broke my fucking nose!"

"I don't give a shit about your nose! You don't get them until I'm done. That was the deal!" Maddox took a few steps closer, challenging the other man to defy him.

The two convicts stared each other down in a silent struggle for power until Geno finally backed down and averted his eyes. "Well, I'm not going to wait much longer so you better finish your fucking business quick." He gave Murphy's heaving form another light kick, eliciting a groan from the injured man.

Maddox continued to glare at the large Italian, "I'll finish when I'm good and fucking ready, and you will wait for as long as I tell you to."

Geno mumbled something under his breath but didn't push the issue any further as he none too gently, grabbed Murphy's arms and hauled his chair back into an upright position.

Connor was grateful when Maddox's fist finally stopped viciously pounding his already sore body and he was given an opportunity to catch his breath. As soon as he felt the man step away, he hunched over in his chair and tried to relax his spasming muscles. His entire body felt like it was on fire and he could feel the warm stickiness of his blood as it trickled down his face. Attempting to get his diaphragm to work properly, he took a deep breath and tried to supply his body with the oxygen it was desperately lacking. After a few moments of deep breathing, his head began to clear and he looked up through squinted eyes.

Connor was slightly surprised to see Geno Pisani's presence among them. He knew that Geno was probably holding one hell of a grudge for the beating he took a few weeks past, and after witnessing the conversation between him and Maddox in the cafeteria, he should have guessed they would join forces in their mutual hatred of the Saints.

Connor tried to focus his mind on what the two men were saying and he came to the realization they were arguing over something. Geno gestured angrily to a heap on the ground at his feet and Connor lowered his gaze, trying to get a look at what exactly they were arguing over. It took his pain-dulled mind a few moments to process that the tangled heap on the floor was Murphy and the two convicts were fighting over him like he was no more than a scrap of meat.

Connor felt his fury flood back full force as the two men settled their dispute and Geno pulled his twin back into a sitting position. Murphy looked horrible. His brother was ghostly pale and the contrast of the bright red blood seeping out from the corners of his mouth, against the unnatural pallor of his skin, caused Connors stomach to churn. These men were going to fucking pay dearly for this.

Maddox, satisfied that his orders were being obeyed, turned back to see Connor glaring daggers at him. "If you still have the energy to give me a look like that, Saint, then I still have a lot of work to do." Bringing his fist down he let his knuckles slam into Connor's jaw, rocking the man's head back.

Connor tried to lift his head and offer up another defiant gesture, but the simple act turned out to be too much for his abused body. The room spun around him and his head lolled forward.

Maddox bent down so he was eye level him and ducked his head, trying to catch a glimpse into his prisoner's eyes. When Connor proved unable to lift his own head and meet his gaze, Maddox did the job for him, threading his fingers through his hair and yanking his head back. Taking note of the unfocused and dilated state of the man's eyes, he shook his head in genuine pity.

"You know, it didn't have to be this way. I tried to offer your brother a way out. You could have served your time in peace under the safety of my protection. But you just can't seem to let go of this idea that you are somehow better than me. For some reason, you believe it is your place to play judge and jury; that your crimes are somehow justified. Well, that is bullshit and I want you to know that I see you for who you really are. Natural killers. I have been around enough of them in my day to recognize the type when I see them, and you and your brother both bear that dark mark upon your soul. The unquenchable need for blood."

Maddox removed his hand from Connor's hair, leaving him with the task of keeping it held upright, but maintained his eye level crouch. "You boys hide behind your religion thinking that it can justify your need to take lives. Hoping it will disguise the real reason why you do what you do. Bravo! It is a mighty fine act and it has half the population in this damned city fooled. But not me."

Connor's breathing hitched as a laugh caught in his dry throat. "You really have no fucking clue what you're talking about."

Maddox sighed in frustration. "You don't have to be ashamed of it. Hell, it's probably not even your fault. Stuff like this, it's in the breeding. Let me guess, you have a strong family history of violence."

Connor's eyes narrowed at the slight against his family and the simple gesture told Maddox he was on the right track.

"An uncle, or a grandfather, perhaps? Or, maybe it was your daddy himself?" Maddox didn't miss the small flash of anger when he made mention of the twins' father, and he ran with it. "Your father then, huh? Spill a lot of blood, did he? See, it's like I said. These things, they run in the family. Tell me, did good ol' dad also try to reconcile his murderous tendencies by proclaiming it was the work of god?" Maddox ducked his head again and looked into Connor's eyes, making it clear that he expected an answer this time.

Connor kept his mouth shut, refusing to play into this bastard's mind games.

"Answer me," he demanded. When Connor continued to ignore the question, Maddox gave a deep, irritated sigh. "Why does everything have to be so difficult with you assholes?" Leaning in closer he spoke in a low, dangerous voice. "Answer my fucking question or I will go have some more fun with your brother and spic friend over there while you rethink this silent treatment."

Connor shot a quick glance over Maddox's shoulder, making eye contact first with Murphy, then Romeo. His twin was still horribly pale and his breathing labored, making it was painfully obvious that his brother's body could handle no more abuse. Gritting his teeth, Connor redirected his attention back to Maddox.

"Our father heard the calling, the same as us. However, the only people who had reason to fear him were people like yourself. People, who threaten, rape and steal the lives of the blameless. The scum of the Earth." Connor spat the insult in Maddox's face boldly. "Our father gave up his home, his family, and his freedom, dedicating his life to protecting the innocent, and my brother and I are proud to follow in his footsteps. If that makes us 'natural killers' then so be it, but you and I, we're not the same."

For several long, breathless moments, Maddox remained perfectly still as he read the conviction behind Connor's words. In the span of a second, the convict's face contorted into a mask of rage and he landed his fist heavily into Connor's midsection, leaving him gasping for air. "If that is what you believe then you are lying to yourself, Saint!" Maddox yelled in his face before punching him again.

On the other side of the room, Murphy, despite his ongoing sturggle to breath, picked up where he left off in shouting obscenities at the man beating his brother. "Motherfucker! Fucking coward piece of shit." His curses broke off as he fell into a vicious coughing fit, but he didn't give up in his fight.

At the sound of Murphy's voice, Maddox stopped mid-swing and turned to face his other two captives. His anger slipped away and his expression turned thoughtful as he glanced back and forth between the three prisoners. Almost as if a light bulb had been turned on in his brain, his eyes lit up and a cruel smile split his face. Turning back to Connor, Maddox grabbed the arms of the steel chair and pulled him over so he was sitting directly across from Murphy and Romeo.

Connor was aware of Maddox walking away as he talked quietly to one of his fellow conspirators, but his focus remained on his brother and friend in front of him. Romeo didn't seem to be any worse off than he had been earlier. Murphy, however, looked like pure hell. Connor's eyes roved over his brother's body, appraising his condition, and the sight of his twin's many injuries stoked the already smoldering embers in his heart.

He stopped his assessment when he felt Murphy's gaze on him and, looking up, he latched onto the blue eyes that were so similar to his own. They didn't waste their energy or breath exchanging comforting words or useless platitudes. Everything they needed to say was communicated through the silent connection they had developed over a lifetime of constantly being by each other's side. Connor read the disquiet in Murphy's eyes as clearly as if he had spoken aloud.

This situation is fucked and we don't have much longer here.

Connor nodded, feeling an acute sense of helplessness. He had no answers this time. No elaborate and creative plan on how to get them out of this impossible situation. He could feel the weight of both Romeo and Murphy looking to him for answers, but he had nothing, and his self-perceived failure was tearing at him.

The sound of a door scraping open and slightly muffled voices on the far side of the room caused all three of their heads to snap up simultaneously as they sought out the source of the disturbance. Connor could see Maddox standing at the door of the small room, arguing with someone out in the hallway, and could only just make out what the man was saying.

"I don't care. The plans have changed and I need him now."

The person in the hall responded but Connor couldn't quite catch the faint words. Maddox gave a nod and stood waiting at the door for several long moments before the ragged form of a man was shoved forcefully through the opening, tripping and landing hard on his side.

Connor and Murphy shared a confused glance before turning back and watching as Maddox grabbed the newcomer by the handcuffs that were restraining him and hauled him to his feet. They could tell by his clothing that this man was a prison guard, but it wasn't until Maddox drug him over and pushed him into an empty chair next to Romeo, that they were able to recognize him as Officer Jones.

The guard was battered and bruised and appeared genuinely surprised to find the Saints in their current situation. The same shock was mirrored on Connor and Murphy's faces and they were slightly disturbed by the new direction this was taking.

"Are we ready to have some fun?" Maddox's loud voice rang out, leaving them little time to ponder this new turn of events. Snapping his fingers, he motioned to someone out of their line of sight and after a short moment, Geno appeared carrying one of the liberated rifles, moving to stand behind Murphy, Romeo and Officer Jones.

Maddox didn't miss the uneasy expression that took over Connor's face, and he grinned down at him. "Don't look so worried. We're just going to play a little game." Chuckling, he moved so he was standing next to Geno, allowing him a clear view of his brother and friend.

"Since you seem to believe that having your hands free from the blood of the innocent is what sets you apart from every other killer, I am going to show you that, despite your divine proclamations, deep down, you are nothing more than a cold blooded murderer. I think that when it comes down to the life of someone you love," he rested a hand on Murphy's shoulder, "you would do whatever it takes and kill whomever you have to, innocent or not. Say for instance," Maddox stepped over to Jones, dropping his hands down on either shoulder, " good ol' Officer Jones, here. Hardly the kindest amongst the prison staff, but innocent enough I suppose. If you had to choose between his life and the life of your brother, would you really be willing to sacrifice your own flesh and blood for this man? This man who, I swear, the sole purpose of his existence is to make the life of every con in this place as miserable as possible?"

The more Maddox spoke the colder the knot in the pit of Connor's stomach became. He didn't at all like the direction this was headed and his mind began working furiously on how to diffuse the situation. "What do you want? You want to hear me admit to my crimes? Admit that I feel no remorse for the people that I have killed? Because you're right, I don't. I haven't lost any sleep over the lives that I have taken, and there was no hesitation when I pulled the trigger. If these are the things that make me a murderer, then I guess I'm a natural born killer, and I deserve to be in this place as much as you do."

Connor ignored the amused expression spreading across Maddox's face and pressed on with his desperate confession. "You're absolutely right, if it came down to Murphy's life or the life of anyone else on this planet, I would choose my brother every time, and I would do so without hesitation." He was bluffing. He knew that, even if he made the choice to put his twin before the life of an innocent person, Murphy would never allow such a thing to happen. It went completely against what they stood for, and he hoped beyond hope that Maddox would accept his admission and move on. It was wishful thinking.

Letting loose a hearty laugh, Maddox gave his head a shake and walked back over to Connor's side, kneeling down so he could meet his eyes. "I'm glad you finally set aside your denial," his tone suggested he knew otherwise, "it will make this next part easier for you." Straightening back up he moved so he was standing behind Connor's chair and bent down just enough so his mouth was next to the his ear.

"You have a choice to make tonight, Saint. The inmates won't be able to hold this prison for long, we may have control for now, but I would be willing to bet that, come dawn, the tables will have turned. From what my men tell me, the National Guard has already set up a perimeter around the facility, and I am sure the state police have already been dispatched and are on location. It is only a matter of time until they work out a plan of action and take back the prison. So, the question you need to ask yourself, is do you want your brother and friend to still be alive when that sun comes up, or do you want to face the new dawn alone?"

Connor looked up, making eye contact first with Romeo, then Murphy. He didn't respond to Maddox's question, didn't want to play this fucker's games, instead he kept his gaze focused on his brother and prayed to the God they had devoted their lives to, that He would see them through this.

"Geno would you be so kind as to use that rifle there, and target the Mexican?"

Maddox's voice broke through his prayers and Connor glanced up, enraged, as Geno stepped in front of Romeo, the barrel of the rifle hovering over his heart

"You can all walk out of this alive. You, your piece of shit brother and your fucking spic, can all live to see another day, but you have to be willing to sacrifice this innocent man for your happy ending. You said yourself that killing for your family is never a problem, so prove it. I'm not even going to make you pull the trigger, just say the word and Geno here will do the dirty work."

"You can go to hell, I won't be playing your sick fucking games anymore." Connor spoke boldly, his eyes never leaving Romeo who was glaring bravely through narrowed eyes up at the man threatening his life.

"Come on now, you're smart enough to know that won't work." Maddox stood and moved out front so Connor could see him again. "If you refuse to play my game, then I will make up the ending myself. If you don't make a choice, the first to go will be Pedro here." He kicked out dispassionately at Romeo's chair. "The second to go will be your brother, although," he took a moment and assessed the way Murphy's breathing had gone from slow and labored, to wheezing with sporadic coughing, "it doesn't look like he will make it much longer anyway. Then, after they're dead, I will go ahead and kill the good officer anyway." Turning, he leered at the guard. "Sucks to be you, Jonsey, either way, you're fucked."

Connor began to panic as his options narrowed. He shot another desperate glance at his brother before fixing stormy blue eyes on the cruel man in front of him. "Alright then, if I have to make a choice, I choose myself."

Murphy's eyes went wide and his head snapped in his Connor's direction. "Ní gá duit fucking leomh, Connor! /Don't you fucking dare, Connor!/"

The words had been spoken in Gaelic for Connor's ears alone, but he refused to look Murphy in the eye, instead keeping his focus on Maddox, silently willing the man to accept his offer.

Maddox looked thoughtful for a moment before shaking his head. "No, I have no intention of killing you. Whatever decision you make here tonight, you get to live. Watching you torture yourself for the rest of your sentence is going to be half the fun!" He bumped Geno with his elbow and the two convicts shared a chuckle. "Now, enough stalling, time to choose, Saint. If you haven't reached a decision by the time I count to ten, your amigo gets a bullet."

Connor was at a complete loss, how could anyone expect him to make a decision like this. It was impossible.

"One."

He looked to Officer Jones. The man looked terrified. The guard had never been particularly friendly to them but, hell, he worked in a prison surrounded by violent criminals. Who wouldn't develop a chip on their shoulder after years spent working under those conditions?

"Two."

Damn it! Jones didn't deserve to die, and Connor knew he couldn't sentence an innocent man to his death for the amusement of these sick bastards. So where did that leave him?

"Three."

His eyes darted frantically over to Romeo who was watching him closely with wide eyes. He looked scared but was doing a decent job of masking it with a commendable show of bravery. The man had been fiercely loyal to the Saints and their mission and Connor couldn't let his friend die like this. It would be Rocco all over again and the guilt would be too much.

"Four."

"What the fuck do you want from me?! You can't just expect me to make a choice like this!" Connor fought his restraints in a moment of hysteria.

"Five."

Chest heaving, he glanced over at his brother who was starting to put up a fight of his own. Geno's fat finger adjusted on the trigger, preparing to take the shot.

"Six."

Connor latched eyes with his twin and held his gaze like it was his lifeline. "Níl a fhios agam cad atá le déanamh, Murphy! Cad a dhéanfaidh mé? /I don't know what to do, Murphy! What do I do?/

"Seven."

The defeated slump of his brother's shoulders and the devastated look on his face broke Murphy's heart. "Níl rud ar bith is féidir leat a dhéanamh. Níl sé do locht, Connor. An bhfuil tú ag éisteacht liom? /There is nothing you can do. It's not your fault, Connor. Do you hear me?/

"Eight."

Connor felt the prickle of tears behind his eyes but denied the emotion; instead he turned his feelings of hopelessness into a desperate show of rage. Ignoring his screaming injuries and his bloodied wrists he kicked out and cursed at an unfazed Maddox.

"Nine."

Spots danced before his eyes and he had no energy left to fight. He was exhausted and despair had set in like a heavy cloud upon his shoulders. "I'm so sorry. Please forgive me."

"Ten."

The sound of gunfire echoing off the walls in the small room was deafening.

Chapter revised 10/19/17