Well readers, so much has happened in this past year. I finally graduated (yay!), and met someone new (more yay!). So anyway, you know the deal, I don't own the twins or BDS, but I do own this story, Quinn, and the horses.
The blaring of her cellphone's ringtone ripped apart any hope of staying asleep. She pawed around on her
night stand for the offending device, grumbling all the while.
"No, no, no… too early…" She whined. She looked at the screen. Jude. Alarm shot through her and she
flipped it open, trying desperately to clear her throat to sound as awake as possible.
"Hello?" She practically croaked. Great. That sounded awake. Jude's tone couldn't hide his amused
smile.
"Well good morning. Probably woke you up didn't I?"
"No, not at all…" She said too quickly. At least it was a little more lively sounding.
"Uh huh. Well I was just wondering if you wanted to come into work today." More panic.
"Oh my god, am I late? I thought it was my day off I'm so sorry-"
"No, no. You're fine. It is your day off. But Eddie never showed up this morning so I'm short a rider.
Was just wondering if you wanted to come in?"
Those few words were enough to snap her even more into wakefulness.
"Yes of course, I'll uh, I'll be right there!"
"Sounds good. Bring the boys with you if you want, they can clean stalls or something."
"Oh yeah, sure…" In her excitement she had almost forgotten about the twins. Were they even up yet?
"Oh by the way Quinn, you might want to stop at the farm and check on your new mare. You have no
idea what you got yourself into with that one." Jude was not giving her nerves any peace this morning.
"Wait, what? Is she ok?" She demanded, finally hauling herself out of bed and digging through her
drawers for a pair of jeans and a tee shirt.
"Yes, she's fine, calm down. Just put her out in a small paddock this morning and I feel lucky to be
alive." Quinn struggled to hold the phone and pull her jeans up over her hips.
"Oh Jesus… Yeah well I'll be right there... I mean, we'll be right there."
.xxx.
The sight of Murphy sprawled on the couch was enough to stop her dead in her tracks. In the excitement
of her unexpected wake up call, she had completely forgotten about what had happened the night before. The
buzz of the alcohol had long worn off from when she had stumbled to bed, disentangling herself from Murphy's
arms after making it up the stairs in a team effort, feeling pleasantly warm and happy from the anger she had
felt less than an hour before. She had said a quiet good night to the boys and it hadn't even bothered her when
she heard Connor say something and burst out laughing, and Murphy telling him to fuck off. She could almost
still feel the stubble of his chin against her face, the way her stomach and body had seemed to completely melt
under the brush of his lips against hers as she had fallen into bed. But now it all came rushing back, and with it
the startlingly sober overthinking. What the fuck had he even meant by that? Was it just some drunken thing?
How was she supposed to wake him up and face what had happened the night before? Did she want it to mean
something? She knew the answer, and she dreaded it.
Ok. Man up. You work with thousand pound animals every day that could stomp your head in. You can
wake up some guy you kissed last night when you were drinking.
She took a tentative step forward, standing almost over him. His dark hair was a tousled mess, his black
shirt wrinkled and the blanket he had grabbed from the couch halfway off his body onto the floor. It was so
strange to see him like this, she thought. When he was awake he practically buzzed with movement, and his
bright blue eyes were always taking everything in, raking across her face and body, seeing it all, making her feel
so vulnerable… but now they were closed and his face was smooth and peaceful, the normal vibrant energy of
him stilled and quiet. She reached out to touch his shoulder-
"GOOD MORNIN'!" Connor bellowed from the hallway behind her. She spun around and Murphy
bolted upright with combined curses of "WHAT THE FUCK!?"
Connor lost it.
"Jaysus ye should see yer faces!" He choked out between howls of laughter, blue eyes squinted shut.
"Yer a fuckin' idjit Connor," Murphy groaned, rolling over to bury his face in a pillow. Connor
sauntered over and held the pillow in place over his struggling brother's face.
"Wasn't sure how long ya were gonna stand there Quinn," he grinned, fighting hard to keep Murphy
down on the couch. The darker twin finally broke one arm free and shoved at his brother, moving him off. He
sat up, throwing the pillow toward Connor and rubbing his face.
"Watchin' me sleep were ya?" He asked, glancing up at her. Quinn blushed.
"Uh no, I mean, I was just going to wake you up, Jude called and wants us to come in to the track…"
"Ah yeah sure ya were, just took you about five minutes o' starin' first," he grinned. Quinn stared
guiltily at the floor and tried to stammer an excuse. Murphy smiled.
"Well let's not keep Jude waitin', just give us a minute ta change." He brushed past her, close enough
that he could've reached out just slightly and touched her… but he didn't. Quinn gave one last look at the now
empty couch as the boys went into the spare bedroom to change.
Guess it didn't really mean anything, she thought, turning toward the door.
.xxx.
The second Jude gave her a leg up onto the big rangy gelding everything changed. Everything about her
on the ground was quiet, uncertain, almost uncomfortable. But on top of a Thoroughbred, perched like a bird on
a tiny saddle, she had purpose. Her slim legs pushed her up into a half crouch, the muscles of her arms suddenly
prominent against the pulling strain of the horse, and her long brown ponytail curling out from under her black
helmet and spilling over the protective vest covering her back. Murphy couldn't take his eyes off her. Her
cheeks were flushed and her eyes bright with excitement, but her face held a quiet concentration as she guided
the horse out to the track.
He and Connor stood on the railing, taking a break from cleaning stalls for a moment to watch Quinn
take yet another horse out. They simultaneously lit a cigarette and took a drag, blowing plumes of smoke into
the summer air around them. The horse tossed his head excitedly and she kept him well in hand, murmuring
"hello" to the occasional other rider that passed.
"How ya feelin' this mornin' brother?" Connor asked.
"Fine, ya hungover yerself?" Murphy grinned. Connor shook his head.
"Nah. Noticed ya were awful close to Quinnie last night. What's goin' on there?" Murphy flicked an
ash.
"Dunno. Drunk I guess."
"Oh yeah, dat all?"
"I dunno Conn, why ya botherin' me about it?"
"Looked like et mighta been somethin' is all. Oh, here she goes…"
The big horse moved out into a ground eating trot, his huge strides pushing Quinn up into a high posting
bounce. She kept a firm hold on the reins even as he shook his head, giving a few spirited hops with his back
legs, finally rounding into a steady canter. His neck arched and he seemed to float, mane and tail billowing out
behind him as his muscles bunched and coiled in a collected and rhythmic stride. Her hands hovered on his
neck, gloved fingers weaved into his mane. She lowered further into her crouch and loosened the reins the
tiniest fraction-
He was gone. In the split second it took for her to release her grip on the smallest section of the leather
line the horse's front legs reached out a seemingly impossible length and his back legs propelled him forward,
his smooth brown hide floating over the massive muscles that flexed beneath. Quinn stayed with him as if it was
the most natural thing in the world for her, and two pairs of blue eyes followed her speedy progress around the
track. Being on the back of a Thoroughbred, pushing it to go faster and to give its all, that was Quinn's purpose.
It was what she was meant to do. Murphy knew what it was like. He and Connor had felt the same way… once.
They turned to follow the growing form of Quinn, who was almost back to them and standing in her stirrups,
pulling the horse back to a manageable pace. She was grinning.
"I don't think I'll ever stop loving this," she said breathlessly and the boys had to smile. She was already
past them, trotting briskly back to the barn, where Jude stood waiting to catch the horse and help her down, yet
another cigarette clenched between his lips. Connor turned to look at his brother, who stubbed his cigarette out
on the fence, studying it intently.
"What'd ya think o' that Murph?" The blond twin finally ventured. Murphy's dark blue eyes glanced
over to him.
"It mighta been somethin'…" he said quietly.
.xxx.
The black mare's head snaked out of the stall, quick as a viper, teeth bared, as Quinn spun around to
shut the door behind her. Murphy and Connor had jumped back out of the way as soon as she had started to
bring the horse in, or rather, as soon as the horse had started to drag her through the aisle. Quinn latched the
gate and the mare swung around, one leg striking out with a sudden BANG as her hoof connected with the
wooden wall.
"Y'alright lass?" Connor asked, reaching out to where she was rubbing an already bruising bite on her
upper arm. She hadn't even seen it coming when she had gone out to the paddock to clip the lead to the big
black horse's halter and bring her into the barn.
"Oh yeah… not the first time I've been bit," Quinn grimaced. Murphy gave the horse a wary look as she
stuck her head out of the stall again, and shook it angrily.
"The fuck is wrong with her?" Quinn shrugged.
"My guess? Probably hormones." The boys stared at her.
"Never met a woman that bad," Connor smirked and Murphy grinned playfully. Quinn rolled her eyes.
"Actually they probably gave her steroids, or male hormones to make her act this way." The mare
pricked her ears forward, as if she was listening intently. Her long delicate face made a beautiful picture, her
black forelock hanging over her dark liquid eyes. Quinn smiled
"Don't worry pretty girly, those'll wear off soon enough," she murmured. The mare's ears pinned flat to
her skull as if they were stapled there.
"Or maybe she's just a bitch," Murphy suggested. Quinn glared at him. His blue eyes met hers,
unapologetic, laughing. One hand gripping her arm, the other moving from her chin to grip the back of her
neck, his mouth on hers, her lips answering and moving against his… She looked away and tried to keep from
blushing as a thrill shot straight through her.
"Alright, well I guess she's all set for the night, let's head home." She flicked off the barn light, trying to
black out Murphy's knowing smirk, and Connor's shit eating grin.
.xxx.
The twins slipped out of the door, Connor closing it gently behind them and crept down the stairs. The night was warm and still, the summer heat wave having yet to break. The boys reached the bottom and looked around, Murphy reaching into his jeans pocket for a pack of cigarettes, and handing one to Connor. They took turns lighting and them and began to work toward the road, out of the illumination of the motion light on the front of the building. A figure stepped out of the darkness of the trees a few yards off and headed toward them, its own cigarette glowing in the night.
"Quinn asleep?" Smecker asked.
"Aye," Connor rubbed a hand over his dark circled eyes. Murphy nodded his own affirmative. Smecker took a final drag off his cigarette and flicked it away.
"You needed to see us alone?" The darker twin questioned.
"Good. Got you two a hit." The brothers exchanged glances.
"What, already?" Connor's brow furrowed in confusion. Smecker ran a hand through his disheveled hair.
"Look I know, it's not much time off-"
"Yer damn right it isn't," Murphy cut in. "Only been here two days. Thought we were gonna hang low for a bit."
"The Italian mob is crippled, thanks to your work. Other groups have seen this as their chance to move
in. The Feds still don't know you two are responsible for killing the Roman. Without me they're clueless," he
smirked confidently. The twins silently finished their smokes. Connor spoke.
"Alright. What's the hit."
"Got some inside information on a meeting of big name Serbs, Friday night. I can get you into and out
of the city. The rest is up to the Saints." Murphy glanced at his brother. The look they shared said everything.
Were they even the Saints anymore? They had no choice. Smecker was keeping them safe. This had been their
calling. How could it not be anymore?
Finally, they nodded.
"Good. I'll stop by tomorrow night to see Quinn. Just try to keep her out of the loop about all this,
alright? Don't need her worrying about her big brother." He began to turn and Murphy spoke up.
"Hey, gotta ask ye somethin'. Went to the horse sale with Quinn yesterday and she had a check to buy a
horse from Victor Petrova. Know anythin' about dat?" Smecker's cocky smile didn't falter as he waved it off.
"Russian mob is in the same state as the Italians. I'm sure it's nothing to worry about. Maybe he's just a
racing enthusiast. Big spender most likely," and with that he sauntered off back into the night. The boys began
their walk back, deep in their own thoughts.
"How do ya feel about it, Conn?" Murphy asked softly. The blond haired brother shrugged.
"I dunno Murph. Be good ta get back in business I guess." Murphy kicked at something on the
pavement.
"Yeah, I guess it will be…" he looked up with a slight smile. Connor couldn't keep the smile off his
own face, and grasped the back of his brother's neck, bringing him close.
"Glad ta see ye feelin' better, brother." Murphy smiled, silent. "Cause yer a whiny pain in the arse when
yer not," Connor finished, ruffling his brother's hair and trying to swat him away as they headed toward the
door.
Quinn's bedroom light was on as they came inside. Connor nodded toward it and gave his twin a shove,
grinning like an idiot at the middle finger Murphy held toward him as he headed toward the spare bedroom.
Murphy stepped into the crack of light spreading from the barely open door and knocked softly. There was a
rustling of blankets and then the gap widened, Quinn peering out of the opening.
"Hi?" Murphy smiled.
"Hi. Wake ya up?" She shook her head dismissively, brown curls waving with the movement.
"Nah it's ok. Where'd you guys go?"
"Jus' out for a smoke love," his voice was soft. Her gaze shyly met his, and she nervously crossed her
arms in front of her.
"Oh, ok…" Silence. Blue eyes met brown and he remembered the taste of her, her soft lips and the hint
of the alcohol she had been drinking, her delicate neck beneath his rough tattooed fingers. But the image that
wouldn't leave his mind was not that of her face as she pulled away from his kiss, uncertain and self-conscious.
It was her astride that big Thoroughbred; her body moving with the horses powerful strides, so full of passion
for that one thing. The thought of it filled him with a want, a need, something he wasn't sure if she shared or
not. With a sigh he reached out and tucked a curl behind her ear.
"Have a good night Quinn."
.xxx.
Alright, trying to get back into the swing of things… hope you guys liked it! What do you think should happen? Let me know in a review!
