It was another one of Connor's brilliant plans, except this one didn't work at all. They snuck in through the basement only to be ambushed. Poppa Joe had the entire mafia waiting for them. They all screamed and shouted as the mafia bore down on them, fighting back as hard as they could.
They were handcuffed to chairs, still getting beaten, until blood was running down their faces, they took no pity on Sarah for being a woman, if anything they were worse to her, tearing at her clothes until she was almost in rags. It only made Connor and Murphy more furious.
Poppa Joe shot off Rocco's other pinky. He thought Rocco was behind all this. Sarah blinked the blood from her eyes, screaming through the pain. The others were screaming too, the sound echoing in the small basement. The mobsters all left the little room and Sarah scooted her chair to Rocco.
"It's gonna be okay, you hear me?" she shouted. "It's going to be okay! It's going to be fine, you're okay, you're fine. It's okay!"
Poppa Joe walked back in slowly, gun raised. With a cold calculation, he shot Rocco in the chest. Rocco fell backwards, and Sarah and Murphy fell down next to him, screaming as blood and tears ran down their faces.
"You can't stop!" Rocco gasped. "You get out of here. Don't ever stop."
He stopped breathing and Sarah screeched like a banshee, pulling her hands against the cuffs until her wrists were bleeding. Murphy and Connor had a plan to get themselves free of the handcuffs. Sarah had her own plan, a much less painful one at that. She shifted herself until she could pull a bobby pin from her back pocket to pick at the handcuffs. She pulled the handcuffs off, running over only to see her brothers already free, Murphy's hand a bloody pulp. Sarah broke the chair she was sitting on, picked up the pointy remnants of the leg and grinned, blood dripping down her chin.
This was going to be her moment. She was going to avenge Rocco the best way she knew how. She nodded at her brothers and they gave her the same feral grin.
Free from the handcuffs, they lay in wait by the door. A man walked in. Sarah jumped on him, locking her arms around his neck and bringing him down, ramming the broken chair leg as far as she could in the guy's back. Connor and Murphy kicked him until the man stopped moving. Sighing with relief the boys took his guns.
They pulled up Rocco, placing pennies on his eyes. Sarah took their hands in hers, Murphy on her left and Connor on her right. Kneeling they began their prayer, their voices wavering.
"And shepherds we shall be, for Thee, my Lord, for Thee. Power hath descended forth from Thy hand – " they heard the click of a gun. As one, they turned; the boys had their guns pointing at the man there. It was the very man who ambushed them before. Sarah tightened her grip on their hands.
He took a few steps forward and spoke.
"That our feet my swiftly carry out Thy command. We will flow a river forth unto Thee and teeming with souls shall it ever be. In nomine patri et filli et spiritus sanc."
He made the sign of the cross over Rocco. This was their father. It had to be. No one else knew the prayer. They put their guns down. He reached forward and touched their cheeks, looking at each of them in turn. Sarah looked at his worn face, unbelief and the faintest glimmer of hope coursing through her body.
"Father," Sarah whispered, unable to keep the emotion from her voice.
"Connor. Murphy," the man said, looking at each boy in turn before turning to face her. "And Sarah."
"How...?"
"You didn't think your Ma wouldn't tell me the news? I was in prison, not dead."
Sarah hiccupped. Connor and Murphy glanced at her worriedly.
"My beautiful children," the man, their father, said.
Sarah squeezed her brothers' hands and gave the smallest smile.