Ladies, gentlemen, we are back! I had a lot of fun writing this chapter, that was for sure. I dug out all my grungy, hard electric guitar songs that reminded me of what was in the real Boondock Saints movies when I was writing this (although that's not where I got this particular chapter title from.) Hope you guys enjoy it!
RedneckBunny: Once again another triumph of a chapter! Can't wait for more (especially since I've put my Walking Dead reading on hold while the season is on). I love your ability to make your stories as true to the movies/shows/what-have-you as possible, as if this were actually the next installment after ASD written by the "professionals". So glad I came across your stories when I did.
Ooh, that's interesting, you wait until the season is done on TV before you read anything new. It would help to avoid spoilers for sure. Aww, that's such a huge compliment for me, because I really do my best to keep things as canon as possible, and it always means so much when other people see that too =D
"It's a Ritual, I Know You See It. It's a Ritual, I Know You Feel It…."
"I'm going to be arrested for public indecency!"
"Oh stop whining! You look great, Will."
"I look like a hooker!"
"Appreciate the fact that you get a brand new dress, and new shoes!"
"You appreciate it! I feel naked!"
"Jesus Christ, you look fine! Nothing is showing!"
"Nothing is showing my ass! Look at this!" I gestured to the neckline of this piece of fabric masquerading as clothing that plunged past the swell of my breast, stopping an inch or two underneath. I plucked at the material itself, which was very sheer and almost see-through, until it reached halfway up my ribs whereupon it became silky and opaque.
Jules sighed gently as she stood behind me and put her hands on my shoulders. "You look great. Perfect for tonight's festivities."
I ran my fingers across the hunter green fabric and tried to pretend I didn't feel like a complete slut. That plan was shot in the face every time my eyes were pulled down to my exposed cleavage since this little number obviously wasn't designed for a bra. The fabric was loose enough to allow for movement of my legs (something I had insisted on after the third time Jules had wrangled me into dresses that felt like a corset around my waist, and my thighs) but still hugged against my body in ways that I wasn't entirely comfortable with. The fact that the fabric was sheer enough that you could make out the pale color of my skin underneath also unnerved me.
"You can see my underwear, Jules." I picked at the fabric while my teeth bit into my lower lip.
Jules chuckled a little. "Just barely, but that is the point, bien-aime,"(sweetheart) she teased. "This color is perfect on you. Makes your eyes brighter and brings out the highlights in your hair and is good for your skin."
"You cannot make me walk out there like this." Nervous butterflies writhed through my stomach. I did not want all those guys (or Bloom for that matter) in the main part of our hotel room seeing me like this. If you haven't figured it out by now, I am not a sexual being.
"Actually I can," Jules chuffed. "But I'd prefer not to drag you. It would ruin your hair."
Said hair Jules had managed to coerce into tussled waves that instead of looking messy and unkempt, gave off this image of devil may care and dangerous. My bangs cut across half of my left eye, but didn't quite obscure my vision. My eyes were rimmed with a blend of smoky silver and black eye shadows, much neater and cleaner than my usual smudge of plain black eyeliner.
"Just a few more touches and then you're ready," Jules continued, moving around the bathroom, rustling another plastic bag until she withdrew a jewelry box. From inside the box she removed a necklace with multiple layers of cavalierly placed chains that when she clipped it around my neck settled in the middle of the gap of my dress. It made the fact that my cleavage was so exposed less noticeable, thank God.
Jules then turned to a much larger box. The one I was probably dreading most, which is saying something since I was all but terrified of this dress.
"Jules, please…why?" I begged.
"Because Converse do not go with that dress, and I'm sorry, but I refuse to let you ruin it," she said with a matter of fact hammer strike of doom. She popped the box open and withdrew a pair of black high-heeled knee-high boots.
"Jules, I will break my neck!" I pleaded.
She sighed with exasperation. "No you won't. They just take a little bit of getting used to."
She handed me the shoes and I reluctantly sat on the edge of the tub and pulled the monstrosities onto my feet. When I stood up I almost immediately wobbled and flung my hand out to catch the side of the wall. Jules chuckled and held me steady for a minute while I cautiously took a step to go back in front of the mirror.
"See? You're fine."
"I won't be fine if I have to run for my life!" I hissed.
Jules rolled her eyes as she dabbed on a bit of fresh lip-gloss. Her red spaghetti strap dress was slit to the top of her hip on one side, showing the black, clinging portion underneath, while on the other side a train trailed off that was roughly knee length. Her ample cleavage was not as exposed as mine, but certainly enough to take the focus off of me (or at least that's what I hoped). The fabric hugged every inch of her curves in all the right ways, but then again that's the way it always goes with Jules. There isn't an outfit in the world that she can't look good in. On her feet were a ridiculous pair of black heels that knocked her already impressive five eight height up to at least five eleven if not to six feet, silky black ribbon tying them to her feet at the ankles. Her mane of golden blonde hair she'd coaxed into loose, billowy curls that she fluffed very lightly in the mirror before turning once more to look at me.
"Showtime," she said.
"Jules, wait, wait!" I called helplessly before she flung the door wide open and sauntered out into the hotel room.
I don't know what had gotten a hold of me. I could run scams with the filthiest of the New Orleans underworld but when it came to walking out of that bathroom looking like a sexed up doll, I just didn't know how to make myself move. My stomach churned something awful as I sucked in a deep breath.
Just get this over with I told myself.
Hoping that the rest of the room would be distracted from Jules' entrance, I cautiously stepped out of the bathroom. I wavered at first in the heels but after a few steps I centered my weight and leaned forward a touch to find a better balance. When I emerged from the hall and into the front room, I immediately felt all eyes on me. Everybody knew that Jules would look great, but I could see that they had all been curious about me, but I really only had eyes for one man.
Murphy looked at me closely, but for the life of me I couldn't tell exactly what it was he was thinking. His tattooed forefinger rubbed at his bottom lip as he cocked his head at me as he leaned against the breakfast bar. I swallowed hard and forced myself not to fiddle with the hem of my dress, which rested some odd number of inches above my knees that I wasn't entirely comfortable with. I don't know what I was looking for when I looked at him. I tried not to believe that it was approval, my inner feminist scoffed at the idea I'd ever need a man to say what I was wearing was ok, but maybe that's what it was.
Murphy wasn't the first to speak though, Smecker was, and in some ways I was glad for the silence to be broken. "Well, you sure clean up nice. I dare say even I couldn't cross dress better."
I turned to face him and rolled my eyes. "Suck it, Smecker. You're just jealous because you have to stuff."
Bloom and Jules snickered while the men in the room arched their eyebrows and gazed at each other bemused looks. Smecker rolled his eyes and cocked his hip out.
"Certainly no stuffing for you tonight." He sauntered over to me and ran a long finger down the plunging neckline of my dress, his fingertip ghosting over the inner seam. "A more appetizing set of baits I'm sure couldn't be found within a hundred mile radius." He nodded approvingly as he took his hand away and stepped back and I allowed myself to breathe again.
I retreated into the kitchen and tried to pretend I was invisible but it wasn't long until I felt a presence come up behind me. I was expecting to smell Murphy's by now familiar trail of smoke, whiskey, and rain but that's not what I got. When I breathed in deep I caught the same hints of smoke and whiskey, but underneath was something like cinnamon. I turned and saw it was Connor coming towards me, his naturally spikey sandy brown hair almost blonde under the glow of the kitchen lights.
"You pick that out yourself?" he asked. A couple hours ago Jules and I had gone into the city for our shopping trip, money provided courtesy of Bloom and Smecker. I had tried not to pay too much attention to the price tags, but I was pretty sure that there were three digits to the left of the period.
I shook my head. "No, Jules did."
"Well she certainly has good taste," Connor rumbled. "Murphy loves it by the way, incase you couldn't tell."
I turned fully to stare at him, my heels giving me a little bit of height, but he still practically towered over me.
"How can you tell?" I asked.
Connor chuckled as he reached over my shoulder for the whiskey bottle. He took a small sip and sighed at the flavor before he answered. "I'm his twin, lass. I know him better than even he likes to admit."
I unconsciously fiddled with the hem, wishing I had my deck of cards to give me something to do. "What about it does he like?"
Connor snickered a little and set the whiskey bottle back onto the counter. He and Murphy both were already decked out in their gun holsters, their fifty caliber pistols without a doubt already locked and loaded. The guns gleamed in the kitchen light, flashing ominously as Connor's arms flexed. "Why don't you ask him yourself? He ain't shy." His grin softened a little bit and became more genuine. "Ya don't have nothin' ta worry about, lass. Murph's a knight in shinin' armor. He acts eager, but he'll listen to ya."
I nibbled on my lower lip unconsciously. "Yeah, I figured that one out for myself."
Connor's eyebrows waggled. "Oh really? I smell a juicy story, wanna share?"
I narrowed my eyes playfully at him. "Not unless you feel like sharing about what you think of Jules."
His skin flushed and I knew I had him. I snickered a bit. "Don't worry. She likes you too." I left him on baited breath as I went back to where the rest of the group was crowding together. Once Connor had joined me, we settled our eyes on Smecker.
"Now, this plan is a little bit more elegant some of the others you boys have used in the past, but it's not infinitely more complicated. Dolly and Duffy will pose as sellers with Jules and Will to get us into Lebedev's hideout, you boys will be with me and Eunice following close behind. Once Dolly and Duffy are inside and drop Will and Jules off, they'll sneak back out and let you boys in and take you to where the Russian goons are hiding. That would be the right time for you two to make yourself scarce," Smecker nodded towards me and Jules and I returned the gesture.
"Then everybody bails, we run like hell up to Yakavetta's old place, blow a few more brains out, and then get the hell out of town. We've got the cars all set up, Connor and Murphy, you'll ride with the ladies. Bloom and me will follow along behind. Dolly and Duffy will stay here and hold down the fort and keep in touch if we need anything else here."
I exhaled a long breath as the meeting broke. Murphy followed me towards the bed I'd been sleeping in and kept a close eye on me while I grabbed up my journal and scribbled down everything that I could remember about the past few days. I could feel Murphy's presence behind me, and I kept waiting for him to say something but he never did, he just watched me scratch away at the paper in my book. Only when I closed it with a poignant thud and tucked it into my getaway bag did he speak.
"Whatcha keep in there?"
"Everything. Everything that I can remember. I have to, or it gets lost." It felt good to speak, even though I was sure my voice was quivering.
"Any other fella in there 'sides me?" he asked softly.
I cocked my eyebrows at him and put on the best game face I could muster. Hopefully he didn't know how much of a sham it was, and if he did, I was infinitely grateful that he humored me.
"Let's not die tonight and maybe I'll tell you."
He actually grinned at me. "Don't worry, girl. Dis what were about to, dis is what we do best." He nodded towards his brother who was on the other side of the room softly talking with Bloom before focusing those smoldering blue eyes back on me. "God looks after us, Will. We'll be alright tonight."
"Heh, well, my faith's runnin' a little low as of late. I need proof." I double-checked my bag to make sure it was zipped tight and watched as Murphy picked up his holster off the kitchen counter. I helped him buckle into the harness, adjusting the straps as needed until the guns were comfortable on his broad shoulders.
"I'll give ya all the proof ya need tonight." There was both humor and promise curling through all those syllables, and it made me shiver.
"You better. I ain't as easy as those Catholic school girls you grew up with." After I dared myself, I snagged him by the nape of his neck and tugged him down to me, stealing a fast kiss on his mouth, just because I wanted to taste his smoky whiskey and rain flavor before we risked our lives. I let go too fast to be certain, but I'm pretty sure I felt him smirk against my lips.
Getting out of the car in this dress gracefully was almost impossible. I'm surprised I didn't trip and eat pavement as I stepped out onto the curb while Jules slid out behind me. Dolly and Duffy piled out quickly after making sure not to be sideswiped from the street traffic whizzing past. We were parked outside some random warehouse that was surrounded by heaps of trash and overflowing bins. Down the end of the ally there was a single light, and a burly built man standing guard at a door.
Duffy had a hold of me by the upper arm, his fingers almost biting in. I hissed at his grip and tried to pull away. "Jesus, Duffy, I'm not going anywhere!"
He relaxed a little but didn't let go. "Sorry, Will. Nerves. Alright, Dolly, Jules, let's do this."
The two former cops marched us down the ally, both men keeping a firm hold on us. I tried not to breathe in too deep and focused on not tripping in these damn shoes. I remembered what Smecker and Bloom had told us earlier, to stick to French as much as we could and only use English if it made sense. I tried my hardest to stop the butterflies that were fluttering so hard I could practically float away right there as the gritty sound of our footsteps on the damp concrete halted in front of the security guard.
"Delivering?" the man asked, a thick Russian accent coating the syllables. His face was mostly shadowed thanks to his wide brimmed hat and all I could think of was fifties gangster.
"Appraisal," Dolly sneered. He flexed his fingers on Jules who pretended to flinch.
The man raised a phone to his ear and hit a speed dial code. After a few lines of Russian, the door swung open and I could hear the thud of a pounding bass coming from inside.
We were led into an underground club, and even though there was barely enough light to see, I could smell the drugs and sex. This was a whorehouse of debauchery, where anyone could come and get anything they wanted. There were endless little halls branching off from various points of the initial open space of the dance floor. Hazy electric blue lights swung from the ceiling, swirling their dizzying glow of the crush of bodies. Several fog machines were pumping their creepy mist over the dance floor, but it didn't quite reach the platforms that were scattered throughout, upon which women clad in little more than a couple napkins and some strings danced on stripper poles, some of them with chains or other little toys wrapped around their wrists and throats. Even from this distance I could see the grimacing, as if they'd been up there for hours and hours.
Dolly and Duffy carefully led us around the dance floor, although several men reached and tried to grab us. I flinched and whimpered at the motions, shrinking as far back as I could while Duffy dragged me along. I could see in his face that he was sorry for all of this, but it wasn't like I was faking my reactions either. I knew if one thing went wrong, if any little detail fucked up, that Jules and I might end up like those girls chained to the poles. We had to be able to hold our own until Murphy and Connor came through.
Once we cleared the main dance floor, we went down a hallway from which many other rooms branched off. Inside these rooms I'm assuming were even filthier horrors awaiting any who decided to enter. From the cracked open door of one, I saw a man strapped down to a table, a woman in leather thigh high boots and nothing else holding a riding crop, striking him as he cried out in what had to be a mixture of pleasure and pain. The high-pitched cries echoed against our backs as we skittered along. In another room that was much larger than most than we had passed previously there was a small boxing ring, hordes of men shouting and hollering at the top of their lungs, and from the quick glimpse of the ring, I thought I saw two women wrestling in mud, trying not so much to pin each other down as they were ripping each other's muddy clothes off. Our escorts hurried us past and after a while most of the noises of the warehouse died. We reached another door upon which Duffy knocked. I swallowed hard and tried to stop the ferocious trembling in my fingers. Jules reached her hand to me and interlocked our fingers and I was comforted briefly.
The door opened and I was greeted with the sight of who could only be Lebedev- pristine white suit, gold chains around his neck and wrists, the gleam of several large rings, designer shoes that had to cost at least five hundred dollars, if not even more.
"Gentlemen, good to see you again. And I see you brought us company this time. Come in, come in!"
He waved us inside and quickly shut the door behind us. This was a sort of lounge, much more gaudy and full of mirrors than Dane's in New Orleans, and Lebedev also wasn't alone, there were at least a dozen other men all lounged on white leather couches with flutes of champagne in their hands, or shots of vodka so cold I could see the ice crystals on the edge of the glass. Dolly and Duffy finally let me and Jules go although we didn't stray far, even as Lebedev and his boys came to inspect us.
"What pretty little creatures you've brought for us. Where did you find them?" he asked, his Russian accent coming on heavy. He approached Jules first, twirling a lock of her gently curled blonde hair in his thick fingers. Jules flinched a little, but I could tell by the slightest hitch in her back that it was for show. I like to pretend I'm a badass, but honestly, when push comes to shove, Jules is the one who is really fearless. Or at least, she can fake it so well; she ought to win every Oscar for the next hundred years.
"Came in on a flight that was diverted from New York. Tourists I think, but I know how much you boys like foreign girls." Duffy was the one who answered and now Lebedev turned his attention onto me.
"S'il vous plaît ne pas nous faire de mal," (please don't hurt us) I whimpered. It didn't take that much work to make myself sound afraid.
Lebedev reached his hand forward and cupped my jaw, turning my face this way and that, his calloused fingertips scraping against my hypersensitive skin. I tried to just pretend that this all wasn't happening, I tried to dial back my memory and just disappear from all of this but it wasn't working out so well, because now I had something to compare it to. I felt almost ashamed of myself for how badly I wanted Murphy and Connor to show up and start blasting skulls right fucking now.
"Walk for us ladies, let us see what you're made of." Lebedev let me go and Dolly and Duffy took a step or two back. Because of my position I was forced to go in front and as Jules passed, Lebedev swung a hand and smacked Jules sharply on the ass. She barely flinched and kept her composure, her head held high, her steps graceful in her heels. I could only hope I wasn't making a total idiot of myself as I walked to the edge of the room and back towards Lebedev. I sucked in a breath and I wanted to either bolt for the door or pick up the nearest pointy object and stab someone myself. We stood in front of the Russian gangster, and as Jules held her head up, I did the same, following her lead.
Lebedev lapsed into Russian, speaking with his cronies who seemed to be of his same mind. After a few moments, Lebedev turned back to Dolly and Duffy.
"Excellent work gentlemen. I shall have to remember to contact you in the future when I have need of such lovely gems." His voice was all but booming as he swept towards Dolly and Duffy and clapped them on the shoulders. "Now if you don't mind, we can go into my office and discuss price." He dropped into Russian again, nodding towards two of the other men whose expression turned into nefarious looking grins. Anxiety thrummed like a bass line in my skull and I tried to keep the desperation off my face. Dolly and Duffy were steered away from us to another door off to the side of the room but before they disappeared with Lebedev I caught Duffy's eye.
"Chance de l'Irlandais," (luck of the Irish) I said, loud enough for both the ex-cops to hear me. It was the code phrase we had agreed upon that if something wasn't going according to plan and we needed to improvise. Jules and I weren't going anywhere with these two Russian bastards on our own, or at least, we weren't going far.
"What does the little dark one say?" Lebedev asked with an arched bushy eyebrow.
Dolly shrugged. "How the fuck should I know? Do I look like I speak French?"
The Russian mobster grinned at that, clapped both men on the shoulder, and steered them out the door. The two other Russian thugs took me and Jules by the arm and began to lead us out of the lounge. We went with them willingly for the most part as they dragged us down the narrow, darkened hallway whereupon the music and the raucous howling from the other debauchery dens was very audible. We'd gone maybe twenty-five feet and had come to yet another door where the Russians paused as they began to enter a key code for the door.
"Maintenant?" (Now?) I asked Jules. Just then the door opened and the second man grabbed Jules by the wrist and began to tug her towards the room. She reacted with the speed of an action movie heroine and reared one high-heeled foot back and socked the Russian in the crotch, sending him flying into the room. When his comrade spun to see what had happened, I shoved him as hard as I could towards Jules. She grabbed the door and slammed it with so much force that when it collided with the man's skull, blood smeared against the wood. He slithered to the ground in a crumpled heap and we both took off like bats out of hell back down the hall.
"We gotta go get Murph and Connor," I panted as I struggled to keep up in these shoes. "See, I told you we'd have to run for our lives!" The last part spiraled into a squeal as I nearly went tumbling into the wall because I lost my balance. Jules snagged me by the upper arm and held me up and helped me find my footing again.
"And look at you, running in heels like a champ!" She flashed a wicked grin at me just as we burst back into the main floor.
We pushed and kicked and shoved our way through the writhing crush of bodies until we found our way to the door. When we did, we burst through like two separate hurricanes, sending the front guard tumbling into a heap.
"You're faster, go get 'em!" I barked as I struggled with the guard, already trying to hold him down as he tried to get his bearings after being thrown to the dirt. Jules scrambled up to her feet and took off running down the ally while I focused all my attention on the man underneath me. He growled what sounded like very damning curses in Russian but I gritted my teeth and sent my fist flying into his nose. Blood bloomed from the blow even as my knuckles seared with vicious pain, but the throbbing sting woke up a fire in my blood that had been cooled for so long that I'd almost forgotten it. Lost in the haze of red heat, the man managed to throw his arm across my face, striking me hard in the jaw and sent me reeling across the asphalt. My head hit the ground, jolting me so hard I swear I saw little birds twittering around my skull.
The man lunged, using both hands to grab me and shove me into the wall, the hem of my dress bunching up around my thighs. I struggled, lunging one hand out to scratch him across the face and neck. He slammed that hand up into the metal of the warehouse so hard I'm surprised I didn't break a bone. A choked scream wrangled its way out of my throat as his fist landed in my ribs. He flung me off the wall and into the ground where I gasped for air, spitting blood out of my mouth from my now busted lip. My hands were bleeding from where I'd scraped the gritty pavement and I struggled to get my feet under me. Years of instinct that I didn't remember came roaring up to greet me and I rolled away from the man's incoming blow with his foot before he could strike me. The kick sent him flying off balance and I used my booted foot to strike him in the ankle as hard as I could. He crashed to the ground and I pounced on him, slamming my fists into his face as hard as I could, brutally unleashing a rage I didn't understand.
"Will! Will let go!"
It was a voice but I barely heard it. The red had a hold of me and I couldn't stop. Ferocious anger tore through me with such dangerous power that when I felt two strong hands hit my shoulders I twisted in the grip and swung my fists towards the source of the grab.
"Will! Will it's me!"
Flaming coal blue eyes met mine and for a moment there was no recognition, but then I tasted his scent, that heady flavor of whiskey, smoke, and rain. It cut through the taste of blood on my tongue and slowly memories washed back in like gentle ocean waves licking the beach. Murphy tugged me away from the man who was still laying on the ground, groaning as he rolled left and right, trying to wipe the blood out of his eyes as he struggled to get up.
"Connor," Murphy growled when he saw his twin unsheathing his gun. Connor looked up, tilted his head and shrugged and stepped aside.
Murphy set me aside for a moment while Jules tugged me away as Murphy took a stance. Jules tried to stop me from watching, but I pulled out of her grip and looked on as Murphy withdrew one pistol and screwed on his silencer. The man barely had time to register what was happening before Murphy shot a single bullet between his eyes. He dropped into a crouch and put two pennies on his eyes and left him lying there as he turned towards me.
"Ya alright, girl?" he asked me gently, his voice husky in his throat.
I nodded shakily. "I'm fine." He reached for me and wiped the blood that was trickling down my jaw away with his thumb. I shivered at the touch, both from the sting, and the heat his hands sent through me.
Murphy let me go and turned back to Jules and Connor. "Let's go."
The boys went in first and Jules and I followed, but Jules took the lead when we got to the confusing crush of the dance floor. I could feel the disgust rolling off the two boys in waves and I sympathized whole-heartedly. When we at last made it through the sea of snakes the pace of Jules' feet sped up until we were almost at a run.
"In here!" she hissed, nudging the door that Lebedev had brought us through the first time.
"Stand back sweetheart, let the gentlemen go to work." Connor's eyes gleamed as he and Murphy pulled their rosaries out from underneath their shirts and then Connor reared his foot back and kicked the door so hard that the lock came flying clean off with nothing but a mess of wires, plastic, and sparks to show it had ever been attached.
I watched with a sick form of fascination that I couldn't understand. Jules and I stayed right behind the boys as they swept into the room and opened fire, and with the combination of their silencers and the blasting of the music from the main floor, no one could hear a thing as they laid waste to the dozen men all over the room. Most didn't even have time to get up from their seats before Murphy and Connor's bullets were ripping their chests apart.
"Where is he?" Connor huffed after one last shot that sent a groaning man to a silent grave on a white leather couch about ten feet away.
"Dolly and Duffy went with him through there." Jules pointed towards the side door and now both men marched across the room, stepping over limbs and blood pools. Most of the mirrors were shattered from the flying bullets, creating a dizzying, kaleidoscope scene of gold, white, and crimson that flashed across my vision. We followed the two men across the room and when they reached the door, Murphy kicked it in.
"Saved him for ya," Dolly said, holding a clearly terrified Lebedev at gunpoint on his knees in the middle of the office.
Murphy's expression morphed from mostly indifferent to sneering. He and Connor hauled the man to his feet, only to drag him into the middle of the larger lounge and shove him on his knees.
A change floated over the room, and even me and my non-religious self could feel it. An ominous presence worked through my veins. The only way I could describe it was power. Righteous, God given power, nothing else could be that strong, and it was radiating straight from Connor and Murphy. Their muscles seemed to smooth out, their faces shifting from filled with the rush of battle to deadly calm. They seemed to become both more relaxed and yet vibrating with such intense authority that it was hard to imagine that their skins could contain it. Thunder echoed in my mind, soothed by the caressing touch of cool wind, an echo of the power swirling around them. My skin shivered and even though my eyes were locked onto Murphy he was entirely absorbed by the man in front of him. His brother was in perfect sync with him, and it wasn't until right at that moment I felt how deep the bond between the two of them ran. I watched the two men in front of us transform from simple vigilantes into Saints, and I'd never forget it as long as I lived.
"And shepherds we shall be. For Thee, my lord, for Thee. Power hath descended forth from Thy hand, so our feet may swiftly carry out Thy command. And we shall flow a river forth for Thee, and teaming with souls shall it ever be. In nomine Patri, et Filii, Spiritus Sancti."
They squeezed the trigger in perfect unison and Lebedev dropped dead at their feet. Almost immediately they went to work, beginning to arrange the bodies in their trademark stance of the arms crossed over their chest and pennies placed on their eyes. I instinctively moved to help but Duffy tapped my shoulder and shook his head. This was their work. Nobody else interfered.
When all dozen bodies had been arranged to the Saints liking, they sheathed their guns and smirked at each other, lapsing into Gaelic for a moment before they came back towards us.
"Thanks for everything, Dolly, Duffy. We'll be in touch if we can," Connor said, clapping both men on the shoulder.
"You need anything, you know where to find us." Duffy reassured.
"Keep your Irish on for us." Dolly was almost sniffing. Murphy flung his arm around the man's neck and wrestled with him playfully before he let him go and locked eyes with his brother and then with us. There was something in his eyes but I couldn't make out what it was. I'll blame it on all the adrenaline flooding my veins, but in reality, it was probably because I was too afraid to acknowledge what it was.
We marched out of the room and shut the door. We knew someone would find the bodies soon enough but we had time. No one had heard a thing thanks to the silencers on the boys guns and the music still blasting throughout the warehouse. We forced our way back through the crowded dance floor and out into the ally. Connor led the way as we scurried through the gritty ally and then back onto the side road that the warehouse was set to the side of. Connor hit the lock and climbed into the driver's seat, Jules in the passenger.
"Jesus, I can't get any slack, you two have such fuckin' long legs, no room anywhere!" Murphy huffed as he folded himself into the back seat behind Connor and I slid in behind Jules.
"Lord's name!" they scolded in unison.
I brushed the dirt off my dress and wiped at my now slightly swollen lip, causing more blood to leak out. Murphy scowled at the admonishing but fished his hands into his pockets and pulled out a pack of smokes and a lighter. He had one lit and hadn't even exhaled the first drag before I snatched it from him and inhaled myself.
"Da fuck?" His eyebrows quirked but before he could say another word I leaned over, snatched him by the nape of his neck and kissed him thoroughly on the mouth, blowing smoke down his throat as I did so. I didn't let go even when Jules gave a very prominent cough and glared at me through the rear view mirror.
"I needed that," was all I said when I finally let go. I smirked to myself and handed him back his cigarette.
Murphy was blushing so red you could see it in the dark and Connor absolutely howled.
"I needed that too, lass," the lighter twin laughed. He was practically doubled over at the steering wheel as we rolled to a stop at a red light.
"Oh really?" Jules purred. She yanked him from where he was leaning over the wheel and kissed him hard, raking her fingernails through his hair, mussing it up into even more chaotic spikes. She held onto him so long that the cars behind us began to honk when the light turned green and we still hadn't moved.
"Move it ladies and gentlemen, we are still on the clock you know," I huffed as I took another hit off of Murphy's cigarette and blew smoke towards Jules so she would let go.
"Aye," Connor sighed as he finally hit the gas, his tongue flicking over his lip.
We leaned back in for the ride and I closed my eyes and let my fingers interlace with Murphy's, shaking, but more than grateful in ways I couldn't even describe.
"You sure you're ok?" Murphy's voice had dropped back down to that soft, husky tone. It forced my eyes open and I looked at him, rolling my head on my neck, not bothering to sit up.
"I'm ok." I squeezed his fingers tight in mine to try and steady the shakes that were still going through me.
His hand twisted just a little in mine and I felt his thumb trace over my wrist where the pulse beats the strongest.
"Ne pensez pas, juste respirer." (Don't think, just breathe.)