Shout-out to Valerie E. Mackin for reading through this a couple of times and helping me get everything to flow in a much more cohesive manner. Hope you all enjoy! As always, comments/reviews welcome. Please PM with any suggestions you may have.
-Chapter 25
"Ugh! Food baby! You really did inherit mom's ability to cook, you know that right? Is there anything you cannot make? Seriously, I have no clue why you chose archaeology as your career when you are clearly destined to be a chef."
"I have yet to learn how to master making pan gravy without burning the roux and it's hard to find someone to teach how to make your own marinara when you live an Irish neighborhood. You think I'm joking, but I'm serious; I hate buying the stuff in the jar. It tastes good, but there is so much added stuff that it's designed to taste that way, plus it only lasts for a certain amount of time after it's opened up. Besides, I like being paid to be on my hands and knees getting dirty."
"Well before you start your sided job as a stripper, how about I help you get this all put away and cleaned up, then we can head out for some sister bonding. I want to hear about everything you've been up to with these two Irishmen that you've decided to keep all for yourself. I don't know anything about Connor, but Murphy seems like a good enough guy to me."
"I want dessert before ya head out!"
"Connor, you had dessert before dinner; twice I might add. You can go back to your place though and let my sister grill you for however long she was up there putting Murphy through her rigorous testing." I pulled a beer from the fridge and handed it to him before grabbing plates off the table and placing them in the sink to let them soak. "Murph, don't look so hurt. While my sister is upstairs interrogating Connor, you'll get your dessert. That is if you're up for it."
Murphy nodded in agreement, but said nothing as he got up from the table and walked into the living room to continue watching what was left of the 6:00 news that I had going in the background while we ate. The top stories had been a college student being held hostage by her ex-boyfriend, a bank robbery, four over-night murders, and a child involved in a hit and run; the child thankfully only had minor injuries and the driver had already been apprehended and placed under arrest.
Over dinner, Connor announced that Rosie had been fired from the plant and was being charged with attempted murder. That seemed to make Murphy a little happy but he just didn't seem like himself. He pretty much just sat in his chair, pushed food around on his plate, and ate slowly like he was thinking about whether or not to take the bite that sat on his fork. I didn't know if it was something that my sister said while they were talking or if it was something that I did after he poured his heart out to me. I chose not to dwell on it too much and figured I could ask him about it when I got him alone.
My sister helped me get the kitchen cleaned up in record time and we were out the door to McGinty's in no time at all. I told the twins that we'd probably only be gone for an hour or so if they wanted to stay where they were as long as they didn't break anything. Connor said something about needing to go over some sort of plan with Murphy while we were gone but they should be done by the time we got back. I left them sitting on the couch with one of the cats laying on Murphy's lap and the other slowly falling asleep on Connor's knee.
"What did you say to Murphy while you were upstairs with him? He usually always has something to say when Connor gets something before he does. Aside from that, he generally finds a way of breaking the silence of a room anywhere he goes. I thought for sure he would've said something about Rosie being fired and arrested."
We walked into McGinty's and I received the greeting that I had grown accustomed to: cat calls, wolf whistles, ass grabs, and shoulder slaps. My sister received a similar greeting, sans the shoulder slaps. I made my way up to the bar while my sister grabbed us a table that was in a somewhat quiet part of the place. There really was no such thing as a quiet place on a weeknight once all of the blue-collar workers started coming in from their labor intensive jobs. Doc gave me my usual Guinness and a glass of water for my sister; she had been going through an AA type program and hadn't had any alcohol in almost a year.
"Thanks; by the way I did not drink that beer that Murphy gave me when you came up earlier today. It was just an empty can that I was playing with. So, tell me what's going on between you two. He really likes you, you know? From what he told me, all he really wants to do is make you happy and by extension when you're happy, he will be. Kind of cheesy if you ask me, but to each their own."
"I honestly couldn't tell you what's going on between us. In the beginning when I met him, I thought I made it clear that it was supposed to be nothing more than just sex. At least that way we were both able to fulfill that need to release any sexual tension that had been building up and there would be no repercussions, no feelings, no strings attached. I've always been a sucker for blue eyes, you know that; anyway, we didn't start sleeping together until the day after finals. I got pissed at them when some things happened and they made it up to me in a pretty impressive way. You already know how he made it up to me; I told you about when we were at Gettemeier's, remember?
"Anyway, when he was lying in the hospital in a coma, I was so scared that he wouldn't wake up. In the short amount of time that I've known him, there was so much that I wanted to tell him but now that he's awake and back home, I don't know where to begin. It's comforting to know that he's been sort of watching over me at night and when he told me this morning after I got him home from the hospital that he wants to be the one drying my tears, holding me after one of my nightmares, and all that it terrified me. Yes, he's a much better person than my ex but the idea of seeing someone new is scary. I know my ex is dead, but in my mind it still feels like I'm cheating on him. I can never have a normal relationship with another person; I can never have what you and Sam have. Something inevitably always happens and I'll be alone again."
"That certainly explains quite a bit. Two years was the longest you've been with one single person and the way things fell apart I don't blame you for having that mindset about cheating. Let's face facts though, your ex literally had a whore for everyday of the week; he had enough that he could rotate them out every other week and you still let him drag his worthless ass back to you. I don't know what you ever saw in him though that you stayed in Utah for two years straight. I wish you had come out here a long time ago instead of going out west; maybe you would've met the twins then and you could've seen what a good man was sooner. I don't know what more you could possibly want though: they both have respectable jobs, they don't do drugs, they actually have a decent relationship with their mom, and more importantly they treat you like a real man should. You can't keep pushing people away because you're scared of being left alone again. These guys are trying to make you see that you can trust them and if you can do that then you won't be alone."
"I wish I knew what I wanted." Muttering more to myself as I downed the last of my beer and headed back to the bar to start in on the hard stuff.
"Ya alright, Murph? Ya don't look quite like yerself."
"All dis fucking shit on da news; kids getting hit in da street when all dey want ta do is play, psychos who don't understand da word 'no,' murdering each other fer no reason. Dere has ta be someone out dere willing ta take a stand against da evil of da world."
"I t'ought dat's what we were doing by taking care of da Russians and da Italians. What yer talking about is on a national scale; dere are people out dere who raise t'eir voices against everyt'ing dat is going on, but no one is willing ta take any action. We are taking action against dose who have wronged da innocent; don't worry, dose people will get what's coming ta 'em and when dat time comes we'll be da ones sending 'em ta whatever God dey wish. Murph, ya keep chewing on dat thumb like dat yer going ta end up biting it off. Dere's somet'ing else eating away at ya, isn't dere?"
"Red's comment about ya getting dessert twice before dinner; ya don't have ta tell me all da details. If it's you she wants den who am I ta stand in da way? I just wish I hadn't told her everyt'ing I did and made a fool of myself."
"It was maybe 15 minutes of oral so don't take it personally. I spent all of 10 minutes with her, she set da timer so it was exactly 10 minutes and den she surprised me while I was in da shower. She said she hated ta hear a grown man suffer. Only Red knows what she wants, and it'll take some time fer her ta figure dat out. Isn't dat why we called her sister ta come up here? So ya can tell her everyt'ing ya've ever wanted ta say ta her and so her sister can help her see dat yer not a lying sack of shit? Ya know what yer problem is? Yer always ready ta just t'row in da towel and walk away before ya know fer a fact what da truth is; da truth scares ya and ya run away like a little bitch."
"If my head wasn't hurting me right now, I'd kick yer sorry ass fer dat. Ya should've seen her while I was still in da hospital; she reminded me a lot of Ma trying ta remind me of da value of patience." Murphy fell into silence, once again staring at the television as the news reporters began to re-cap the top stories of the day. "I can stand side by side with me brudder and put a bullet t'rough some guy's head, but I can't take da fear of rejection. I may as well tell Roc ta set me up with anot'er one of Donna's druggie friends."
"Now dat's just downright stupid, what are ya, fucking retarded? If yer desperate enough ta let Roc set ya up again, den I'm going ta move in on Red and keep her all ta meself; find out all of da kinky t'ings she likes done ta her den rub it in yer face of all dat yer missing out on. Did ya know she's let me tie her up with rope every time she's let me have me way with her?"
"Yer really pushing it, Conn. If dis is yer way of telling me ta be patient and wait ta see what she says, it's not working. Don't ya have somet'ing better ta do den ta piss me off?"
"Me and Roc put everyt'ing on hold while you were in da hospital; just didn't feel right trying ta do it without ya. Might have anot'er one of dose sick fucks on da list. Roc's been out da last week or so watching him. Need ta start coming up with a plan fer when Roc finally decides ta let us in on da details."
"Ya mean come up with a plan dat involves yer fucking rope. What's da deal with you and dat fucking rope, honestly?"
"Happens ta be a very useful t'ing so shut it."
My sister and I walked back to the dilapidated building from McGinty's with no trouble; one of the regulars was nice enough to walk us half way since he was heading for home anyway. We parted ways when the elevator stopped on the third floor; our plan was for her to go back up to their place and spend the next 4 or 5 hours interrogating Connor much the same way she did with Murphy while I tried to figure out a way to give Murphy my answer without making him more upset than he appeared to be when we left.
"Hey, I'm glad you're still here I need to talk to you about what you said earlier today. Before I do though, thank you for inviting my sister up; we got through a lot more shit then I ever did with Ryan and I don't think I need to pay to see him anymore."
Murphy sat rigid on the couch but never acknowledged my presence. I was hoping that he was just listening to what I was saying rather than ignoring me and tuning me out. I kicked out of my shoes and walked into the kitchen, grabbing a pair of glasses from the cabinet and filling them with water. When I walked into the living room, the t.v. was turned off and Murphy was facing me with one foot on the floor and the other was tucked under his thigh, he had one arm thrown over the back of the couch staring back at me with an unreadable expression. I took a seat next to him and handed the glass over when he silently held out his hand for it; a fingertip brushing against my knuckle so lightly that my senses nearly forgot to register it.
"I've thought about what you said and I was not prepared to give you an answer tonight nor have this as figured out as much as I do. I need you to understand though that I will probably always have my doubts about this because in my mind I feel like I'm cheating on my ex; it's not something that I can get over right away, I may never be able to get over that feeling but I have to accept that he's gone and he's not coming back. He cannot drag me out of Boston by my hair, throw me into that red truck of his, and drive me back to Utah." I paused to finish off the glass of water and set it down on the floor before taking a deep breath to finish what I had started saying. I don't think I have ever been this scared in a long time. My only hope was that I didn't scare him off and he'd run for the hills.
"What you said earlier about wanting something more than just sex really makes me think that you have an ulterior motive; but my sister brought up the fact that you told her that's not what you want from me. She told me that you wanted someone who's not going to put up with your bullshit and wouldn't judge you because of the…activities…you and Connor choose to do outside of work. I am willing to give whatever this is between us a try and see where it leads too. I hate sounding like a broken record or a parrot on constant repeat, but I really need you to understand that what you see is just a front for just how fucked up I really am. I am nowhere near ready to begin disclosing things about my past; maybe one day I will and maybe that day will never come. Only time will tell.
"I don't know what all my sister has told you or what she's about to tell Connor. I do know that I owe you something. Physically, I know it may appear that I'm pretty well stitched together at the seams. Mentally, I think I am beyond help. I've been in at least 3 psych wards since I was ten and the doctors at all three places have it written in my records that I'm clinically insane; guess that's why my ex and I got along as well as we did. I've got at least 30 failed suicide attempts under my belt and the scars from each one to prove it."
I had to stop my current train of thought; I could feel my hands shaking with nervousness and my stomach twisting in on itself. I knew I had to look him in the eye at some point but I just couldn't bring myself to do it, at least not yet anyway. However that did not stop the burning sensation I got from his eyes boring holes into me, almost begging me to keep going. The silence was deafening and the air around us was growing thicker the longer we sat. I watched out of the corner of my eye as Murphy carefully set his glass down on the floor next to his foot and leaned forward to take my hand in his; his thumb gently sweeping over my knuckles. With a deep sigh, I lifted my head up and rolled my shoulders back. Looking him in the eyes, I continued as I tried to carefully find the words I was searching for.
"I need for you to know that I am trying to get better. If it seems like I'm having a shitty day, I need reassurance to know that it's okay to talk about what happened to make the day a shitty one. I'm so used to putting others before myself that I just push everything else off to the side; I need to know that I matter to someone. The thing that really sucks about the human condition is the fact that we need to have reaffirmation; we seek out validation from the minute we're born until the minute we die. Despite hearing positivity from friends and family, I've never had that outside of that small circle.
"My ex never told me he loved me, never randomly paid me a compliment for something I did every day. I never pushed him to say or do anything he was uncomfortable with and I knew that for him to even kiss my cheek in the morning while I was making breakfast was even pushing it; I never ask him to do it, he just did. I'm fucking awkward when it comes to affairs of the heart. I don't know how to take a compliment for anything other than the food I cook. If I'm being completely honest, I don't know what normal means when it comes to relationships. I only had one serious one and what became the norm for me would be deemed as abusive by everyone else."
I could not stand to look at the stoic expression plastered across his face any longer and broke off eye contact and instead tried to focus on the thumb that never ceased its movement across the top of my hand. I suddenly wished I had not finished off that glass of water so quickly as I tried to get rid of the dryness that was quickly taking over my throat.
"When I met you and Connor, the day after the hospital, Charlie and Ryan went with me on a blind date they set me up on. The guy's name was Jack. He wanted someone he could lock away in an ivory tower that would wait on him hand and foot for the rest of their lives. He's the type of person to just throw money around like it was nothing; he chose one of the priciest restaurants in town to eat at and declared that everything was on him. Shortly after we ordered our drinks he made it loud and clear that he was going through a dry spell and couldn't understand why."
I paused my thoughts as I glanced up. He had let out a small laugh or snicker, not sure which one.
"Sorry ta interrupt, is dere a point ta dis?"
"My point is that I can't tell you what it is I want from you because I don't know what I want, no one ever cared enough about me to ask what I wanted. But I do know what I do not want. I don't want to be put up on a pedestal, I don't want someone who's going to be flashing around money like it's nothing, I don't want someone that only thinks about sex, and I don't want someone that only thinks about themselves. Everyone is prone to selfish tendencies, but selfishness should not take over your life to the point where when you're with someone else that you expect them to suffer."
I sat in silence as I waited for him to say something, anything, but he just sat there staring blankly at me. While we were sitting at the bar talking, my sister told me that, per Murphy, he and Connor did "things" outside of work that would be frowned upon by the general public if word ever got out. From my perspective, it couldn't be any worse than the murder I committed in Utah when one of my ex's friends tried to rape me while he was out in the caves making another shipment for his father.
During those late nights when he wouldn't come home until 2 or 3 o'clock in the morning, he made sure I knew where he kept the gun and the knife just in case I needed to use it. It was a secret I would take to the grave with me; I only hoped that what they chose to do outside of work wasn't near as bad as what I have done. Murder was just the tip of the iceberg for me. What they did couldn't be worse than being wanted by the F.B.I. There was a reason why I kept my mouth shut around Rocco especially knowing what I know now about what he does and who he works for: if word ever got out there was a high probability that they'd be knocking on my door looking for a new hit-man for hire…or would it be a hit-woman for hire?
One story in particular that stood out in my mind was about a guy who, in Rocco's words, took out a whole family like he was ordering a pizza. The Saints had gone to his house and took him out as well as everyone that was inside the shed playing poker. Knowing that Rocco works for the Italians meant he was bound to know something when one of them got bumped off. The fact that he was able to go into so much meticulous detail about how the hit went down had my suspicions raised. There were questions I wanted to ask, but who knows what might have happened to me had I done that. The one at the forefront of my mind was how he knew the main target was taken out with a billiard ball, how he knew two of them were under the pool table, how he ended up with that lump on his arm around the same time this all took place. He had come over to my place not long after that guy had been done away with and was complaining that his arm was hurting; he claimed it was a spider bite that swelled up. I could only offer him some Benadryl and an ice pack since I wasn't able to find the bites.
If the stories that Rocco had told us while we sat in McGinty's about the hit-men that work for his boss were true I'd have to do more than keep my name and face out of the public eye as much as possible. I would also have to keep a sharper ear out for anything that may resemble my former life in Utah. Even though I would never tell either Connor or Murphy the truth, I had moved to Boston when whispers started springing up that some rather lucrative people in Chicago had wanted to start arming themselves to the teeth when stories of The Saints started making national headlines. These people in Chicago had figured that if they hired women as hit-men then The Saints were less likely to take them out since everyone that had been confirmed as a Saints hit were men with rap sheets ten miles wide. Worst case scenario, I would get out Boston as quickly and quietly as possible.
There is no such thing as the word 'no' in any mafia. You either do what you're told or you die. They cannot kill you if they cannot find you. Now was the time to start planning my exit out of town should the need arise.