Chapter 10

The moment Connor shut the door leaving me alone with Murphy for the first time, I was more than nervous. I couldn't help but wonder if Connor's incoherent ramblings had anything to do with me and if it did, how the fuck I managed to inadvertently get thrown into the mix. Was there something I said or did that offended Murphy that he needed to confront me with? All the negative thoughts running through my head started causing my anxiety levels to rise and I had to excuse myself to the kitchen. I opened the fridge and quickly pulled out the bottle of Jameson that Doc had given me, hoping it would calm my nerves.

"Connor told me he heard ya screaming me name at da top of yer lungs in da bathroom a few weeks ago. Something ya want to tell me?"

I nearly dropped the bottle on the tile floor when his voice came from out of nowhere behind me. Yes, I remember seeing Connor standing outside my door that night, but the thought never occurred to me that he would actually stand outside in the hallway and listen in while I took care of myself. My heart pounded away inside my chest; how does one even begin to formulate a response let alone verbally communicate a feasible answer to such a bold accusation. I could flat out tell him the truth that yes I got myself off while I had imagined that it was him doing all of those things to me. I could also tell him that I wanted him bad enough that I wanted him to use everything in the bedside table and the closet on me all in one night. I could also tell him that I wanted his brother just as badly. But I don't handle confrontation that well.

"How do you know that there isn't another Murphy? Why assume that it was you? Why the fuck was Connor even standing outside in the hallway?" Anger was the defense mechanism I used the most, so naturally it was the one that decided to rear its ugly head tonight after we all seemingly had a good time a few hours before. Why do I always do this to myself!? I wanted to cry internally, but another foot of concrete being poured around my heart wouldn't let me. Instead I grabbed a frying pan that I had just washed and whacked Murphy upside the head with it screaming at him to leave.

"One of these days, you're going to realize that you just passed up the opportunity of the good man you're always griping to Charlie about. And when you do, I'm not going to be around." He quietly picked up his shoes from the hallway and walked out, gently shutting the door behind him leaving me in my misery.

I fed the cats scraps of the turkey, cleaned out their litter boxes, and changed into a pair of jeans. I was not going to spend the rest of my night locked away in this apartment; I only hoped that Doc kept the bar open tonight. I can always spend the night upstairs in the storage room sleeping on a pool table.

Once I saw the 'open' sign lit up on the front of McGinty's I heaved a sigh of relief and pushed the door opened. Tonight I just wanted to forget everything that happened, the good and more importantly the bad. I knew it was completely my fault for the way things turned out, I could own up to that but you can't confront someone about them masturbating to you and not expect a reaction.

I threw a $50 on the bar and told Doc to keep the drinks flowing. He obliged with a look of concern across his face. Doc never asked the questions that he wanted to but he would occasionally try a broken proverb to try and at least put a hint of a smile on my face. It was about 11:30 that night when a blast of cold air flooded the building and I could smell Connor walk into the room. In the month or so that I had started talking to Connor and Murphy I had learned that they were twins and did just about everything together. I also learned how to tell the difference between the two when my back was turned just on smells alone. They both smelled like cigarette smoke but Murphy had a musky smell to him that I couldn't exactly place and Connor smelled like Old Spice.

"Go away." The growl that emanated from my throat sounded nothing like me as I kept my eyes trained on the fresh bottle of Jack that Doc placed in front of me. Rather than pouring any into the glass sitting between my hands, I twisted the cap off and took a long swig, letting it burn on the way down. I was in no mood for this shit-disturber and tried to shut myself down from any and all feelings. But if I knew anything about the Irish, it was that they were a stubborn bunch; curse my mother for being a quarter Irish.

"Did ya really have to hit him with da frying pan? He could've taken a more subtle approach, but I don't t'ink he deserved dat." He sidled up next to me at the bar doing his best to make me look at him.

Add another 6" of poured concrete to my hardened heart.

I picked the bottle of Jack up from the bar, never looking at him and never saying a word, walked up the stairs towards the old speakeasy, and locked myself away for the rest of the night. I made sure that all the locks were in place and the door was blocked before moving to the window that led out to the fire escape pushing one of the pinball machines in front of it. No one was coming in here as long as I could help it.

That first real relationship with him had taught me to never trust. It was a lesson I had forgotten.

"Da fuck were ya t'inking broaching da subject like dat? Were ya not listening to anything Ryan had been telling us da past month? Ya deserved dat shot to da head ya know."

"I was hoping dat da direct approach would work best; clearly I was wrong. Ryan never really did say anything about how to attack dat one. It was either beat around da bush or face it head on. She's got every reason to be pissed off and angry, but I didn't t'ink she'd actually haul off and attack me. At least she did go after me da way Rosie went after ya her first day at da plant."

"Rosie's problem was dat she couldn't take a joke, even if it was St. Patty's day. Red's problem is dat she doesn't know how to let anyone in after just one serious relationship dat went south real fucking quick. Do like Ryan said and just tip-toe no matter how much it fucking kills ya. I'm going down to da bar to see if I can't talk some sense into her. Ya better figure out a way to fucking make it up to her."

"Fuck dat shit; if ya want to put in da time and effort it takes to bring down da Berlin wall by hand be my guest. Red's a fucking psycho. Dat ex of hers dat Ryan told us about: they deserve each other, just a fucking shame he's dead."