Music drifted from the iDock perched on the small table beside her bed as Emanuelle hummed along, finding her inner peace. She was studying her now scarred elbow, remembering how she'd met the men she'd come to fall in love with. It was something she'd never thought about until now, not until she came to realize the slightly pained faces they had worn when she would walk past them without a word. She only did it because she didn't trust herself to keep quiet about Romeo. She feared that it would come down to the brothers leaving to their profession and never coming back. She cared too much to lose them after she had just found them. Emanuelle couldn't understand why or how she had fallen for two men, for two brothers in particular.

Her thoughts were interupted when her music muted, causing her to turn around in confusion. A person was standing beside her bed, wearing all black. Before she could scream, someone put their hand over her mouth. Her instant reaction was to bite the hand that muffled her screams. Then, something hit her, a searing pain consuming her head. Her vision faded to a cloud of black as blood trickled down her temple. She didn't even get to see her attacker's face before she lost conciousness.

She awoke with a nasty tasting cloth in her mouth. Sweat covered her skin in a thick sheen. Her hands were tied behind her back and she was laying against a cold wall and an equally cold concrete floor. Her eyes burned when she opened them, but she managed to get a good look at her surroundings. She felt the dried blood on her temple crack as she blinked to clear up her vision.

She was in a room of somekind. Emanuelle saw that she was sitting next to a couch, or what used to be a couch. There wasn't any back padding and the seat cushions were ripped to shreads. A grimy, miniature refridgerator was knocked over on it's side, as was a desk with three legs in the other corner of the room. There were two dirty mattresses strewn across the floor. A sink and a shattered mirror sat next to where the toilet should have been. Two rusty showerheads were on one wall with equally rusted handles. Most of the wall tile was missing, but what remained was busted with spots of grime and mold. The musty smell of mildew hung in the air, making Emanuelle wrinkle her nose.

Panic rose in her throat, knowing she wouldn't be able to scream for help. She struggled against teh ropes that bound her wrists until she felt wet blood tickle her skin. Her tongue was dry against the bitter cloth, so it was hard to swallow. She feared she was going to choke if she didn't get the gag out of her mouth soon. Her eyes began to water as she realized her situation.

The door to her left slammed open and three men walked in. The first one, she recognized, was Romeo Vasquez, and she'd recognized one of the others from "Hoag" prison, but never got his name. The last one was a man that Emanuelle had never seen before, but his hand was bandaged, so she guessed that he was the one she had bitten. Romeo's voice was thick with his Spanish accent as he commanded orders at the other two men.

"Bring her over here." he said from the center of the room. The man from "Hoag" grabbed Emanuelle by her hair and lifted her to her feet. Tears spilled in a river down her cheeks. The gag held back her cries of pain as she was forced to walk towards the Mexican. "Well, ain't you a pretty piece." He ran his rough, calloused fingers along her jawline. She flinched away, but his fingers grabbed her jaw and dug into her skin. Emanuelle shut her eyes tight at the pain. She shook her head, trying to shake off his grip. "Awe, don't flinch, baby doll. Romeo don't mean nothin'. I just want the Saints." Emanuelle's eyes opened in surprise. "Yeah, you heard me, baby doll. And until they get here, you and I get to have a little fun."

Emanuelle said a silent prayer in her head. She'd never prayed in her life, but she couldn't help it. She pleaded to the God that Murphy and Conner loved so much. Please God, anyone. Someone please find me.

Conner's hands were shaking in a death grip around his guns. They were crossed in his lap, just like Murphy's were. The entire ride was silent, except for the times that Smecker clicked his lighter every so often. There were so many questions running through his head. What if they were seen? Was Emanuelle okay? Who kidnapped her? Were they going to hurt her? He was getting antzy from no nicotene in the last two and a half hours, and the silence was deafening to his ears. He turned his head to look at his brother, wondering if he was thinking the same things that he was. Murphy was looking out the window, watching the passing Boston scenery. If he ended up losing his brother today because they ended up getting caught, he didn't know if he would survive. They had a lucky break at "Hoag" when they had been incarcerated the first time. Hopefully, there wouldn't be a second. Before they had left, he, Murphy and Smecker developed a plan that would surely work. If he lost Murphy and Emanuelle today, he would probably die of heartache. He didn't know how, but his heart had given itself to Smecker's daughter. He had no control over what it wanted, and it definately wanted her. She was beautiful (even though she'd deny it if someone told her so), confident, so sure of herself. She'd risked herself to help him and his brother. She had a tough exterior, but lately she'd been softening. It drove him crazy that he didn't know how to help her.

"Alright boys, we're here." Paul said as he pulled the car to a stop. The yellow light that lit up the McGinty's Irish Pub sign painted on the wall of the building blinked in contrast to the darkening sky above it. The brothers got out of the car, their pea coats swirling in the breeze around them. "I'll wait here." Smecker told them as they walked towards the steps.

They kept their heads low, their sunglasses hiding their eyes as they knocked on the door. When Doc answered with his whispy, crazy white hair sticking up in all directions, the boys couldn't hide their grins. "Doc!" They said in unision as they both hugged their old friend.

"B-b-b-boys! I'm s-s-so glad t-t-o see ye. Fuck! Ass!" His head twitched at every syllable due to his Tourettes, but he was smiling all the same.

The brother's chuckled at the same old bartender. "Doc," Murphy started. "We need yer help."

"Anythin', boys. C-c-come on in."

The went to the bar and sat down, facing Doc. "We need a diversion." Conner explained. "We need ye to roun' up some lads to keep us out o' trouble for a little while."

Then, they began to tell Doc the plan.