Murphy bit back tears as he ran, ignoring his brother calling to him and Kiley's sweet voice as she called her sister's name. This was his fault. He should have stayed. Maybe she would have told him if he had stayed to find out what was wrong… A feeling of dread overcame him as he saw a familiar car parked out in front of the church. This was the car of an Italian Don they had been gunning for for some time. Throwing all caution to the winds, he burst through the door and into the church, Connor and Kiley right behind him. He had his hand on his gun as he came crashing to a halt, surveying the scene. Ciara was bent in the front pew, saying her Rosary prayer. Next to her, the Don, Algo Cassini, was waiting. He had thinning hair, though he was still young. He was dressed in an expensive suit. Ciara hadn't moved, but there was tenseness in her body language that made Murphy want to spring. "Wait," Connor whispered.
Murphy recalled the last time he had been in this situation, watching Ciara from afar. He had been thirteen, and had wanted to invite her to a May Day celebration to dance. The other boy asked first, and she had gone with him. It was like seeing his childhood flash before him every time he looked at her. Now, still stooped over the pew, with Algo Cassini right next to her. "I can't" he growled softly, creeping toward the front row.
"Murphy!" Kiley hissed.
Ciara knew Algo would come looking for her after she had disappeared the last time. And she had realized while tending her wound that morning that those men who had attacked them had been his, and that he had wanted her alive. She wasn't tied up, wasn't restrained in any way like her sister or Brighid. She pretended not to notice him as he crossed himself and sank down next to her. She had to repent for Brighid's death. It was her fault for falling for the wrong type of man, as usual…She could see Murphy moving out of the corner of her eye. Catching his eye, she shook her head slightly. "Algo, what brings you here?" she asked with feigned calm.
"I want you back," he explained, voice heavy with Italian accent.
"Killing me best friend wasn't the way to my 'eart," she replied.
"I'm so sorry, Ciara. Come back to me." Cocking her head slightly, she looked him in the eye.
"I canna. Ya hurt me last time. I won't go back."
"I have changed, Kitten."
"I am not yer kitten," she returned, insolence in her undertone. Murphy's eyes widened as he heard their conversation. Ciara had dated a Mafia Don? Was she insane? Did she have a clue what that entailed?
But he wouldn't make assumptions until he had a chance to talk to her face-to-face. Algo's face was turning an odd shade of purple.
"Fine. I will see you when you are in a better mood."
"That'll never happen, Algo." She lowered her eyes, thinking of a quick way out without bloodshed in a church.
"I'll have you or no one will!" he shouted suddenly, his voice echoing eerily off the stained glass windows and buttresses. He grabbed her throat with a big hand, attempting to lift her off the ground. She could hear the click of the hammer being pulled back on Murphy's gun
echo like needles grinding against her spine as she fought for breath. She gained a sudden foothold on the pew, kicking out with her free leg into the man's groin. She dove into an acrobatic tumble out into the aisle, rising to her feet just in time to take a blow to her blocking arm. Algo had no gun. It was an opportune scenario for Ciara. She sighed with relief as Kiley knocked the prepared gun from Murphy's hand. It didn't go off, luckily, and she could hear Murphy yell out a challenge. She watched in horror as the two men engaged one another. Murphy was smaller, but his experience and speed was quickly winning out. Connor was restraining Kiley from running into the fray, a look of horrified fascination spreading across his countenance. Blood ran from Murphy's nose as he pummeled Algo across the face. He broke the Italian Don's arm with a sickening crunch of splintering bone, and Ciara cringed. She watched with grim interest as he continued beating the man. When he was still, Murphy still raged. Ciara rushed over to him, voice filled with tears.
"Stop! Murphy, stop! He's dead! We've got ta go before his soldiers find out! Murphy!" She threw herself between the dead man and her enraged bodyguard. When he made to move her, she grabbed his fist and kissed it, using his bulk as an anchor to lift herself to her knees. "Come on," she whispered, watching enraged tears roll down his cheek. Connor let Kiley bury her face in his arm.
"Let's git outta here," Connor ordered curtly, eyes throwing daggers at Ciara. "What was all that, Ciara? My brother was fightin' for ya, coulda been killed. Ya dated a Don?" Kiley pursed her lips, eyes widening matter-of-factly as she cocked her head at her sister.
"I did," Ciara said, lowering her gaze. "This was all my fault. I thought Algo would ferget me, start over without me. I was wrong." She kicked the curb with angry intensity as she followed them down the sidewalk and toward the house where they were staying. "I fell for the wrong sort."
"I'll say," Connor scoffed, shaking his head. He was angry, but still felt a wave of pity for the girl.
"I can' believe ya, Ci," Murphy growled. "Ya coulda died, ya fool. God love ya, ya really dug yerself in deep!" He paced, brooding.
"I'll leave then. If ya don' want me here. If ya woulda just been there when I needed ya to be, I never woulda gone seekin' out the wrong sort. Decided I wasn't good enough for ya! So there! This is yer fault too!" she shouted. She took off a few steps ahead of them, leaping up the porch steps and slamming the bedroom door before anyone could question her.
"Well, that was interestin'," Kiley said a little too lightly, her voice strained. Smecker and Il Duce stared down the hall at the closed door.
"What's goin' on here?" their father asked.
"Ya don' need ta worry bout them takin' the bait. They're after Ciara. She dated a Don, Da. A Don!" Connor paced the living room angrily. "Murph coulda died!"
"Murph's in love," his father conceded. "He'da done it regardless." After a moment's silence, he broke in again. "We stay with the plan. Tomorrow. Smecker an' I are goin' to his house tonight. Ya can 'ave the other room. Rest. I 'ope all o' yeh are in better spirits tomorrow." Smecker took the hint and followed Papa MacManus out of the house. Murphy watched them go.
"Go talk ta Ci," Connor said more calmly. "Tell 'er I am sorry I blew up." Kiley took Connor's hand and stroked his fingers. He leaned over and kissed her, rested his head on her breast. She helped him tug his boots off, then lay his head in her lap and ran her fingers softly through his hair until he fell asleep.
"Who is it?" Ciara's trembling voice asked from the other side of the door.
"It's me," Murphy replied, his voice was soft and sweet, not at all angry like it had been only moments before.
"Coom in." She looked tearfully beautiful, lying there with her cheek pressed against the pillow. He noticed the soft curve of her hip from where he stood. He wondered why she had always seemed too tough for him before. He walked on quiet feet toward the bed, closing the door behind himself. He sat lightly on the edge of the bed she occupied, reaching his still-bloody hand out and touching her cheek. Her hair fell at an angle across her dark green orbs, obscuring his view.
"I'm sorry," he whispered after a moment.
"I'm the one as should be sorry," she answered, but still didn't look up.
"Ci, did ya really mean what ya said? About me?"
"Aye, I always thought ya wanted someone like my sis. I thought ya'd never learn to love someone like me." She sat up slowly, hiding her eyes behind her hands. Murphy moved her hand away with a gentle push, pressing her back against the pillows. He bent down and kissed her hungrily, wondering why he had never voiced his feelings for her. After a few minutes of sweet kisses, he pulled away, still hovering over her.
"I thought ya'd never have me," he admitted. "I love ya, Ci."
"Oh, Murph, I love ya too." She dragged him back down for another kiss, her face hidden in the crook of his arm. The shadows of darkness had begun to fall, making the room dim. He could just make out the soft shadow of her curves as she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him softly. She was everything to him, soft and warm and beautiful. He pulled her to him, brushing her hair away from her face.
His warm hands explored the petal-softness of her skin beneath her shirt. She arched her back in pleasure, nails tracing along the base of his spine. He was so unsure, so inexperienced. But so was she. She felt a slight nervousness as he stopped his advances for a moment to remove his shirt. He sensed her nervousness, backed away for a moment, shaking as he fought his desires. "I'll stop," he breathed, voice barely audible against her ear as he held her close.
"I don' wan' ya to," she answered, pulling him back down for another kiss. She felt his arms tighten around her slender frame, lifting her slightly as he slid her tanktop over her head and gently kissed the curve of her neck, her collarbone, then down to her still-covered chest. He ended at her bellybutton, making her chiseled stomach twist with unexpected excitement. He had strong, broad shoulders and a beautiful, muscular chest. She had always remembered him as the gangly boy from childhood, but he was over her now, boy-made-man by life's inevitable circle. His eyes twinkled in the fading light as she kissed his cheek, biting his shoulder playfully as his hands twined through the fine strands of her hair and he kissed her again, smiling and laughing. She tossed her head slightly, barely feeling the soft brush of his fingers against her back as he removed her bra and tossed it aside. Neither felt the need to rush, reveling in each other a moment before continuing with the process of undressing one another. Ciara rolled over and pushed Murphy back against the pillows, kissing his navel and chest as she unbuckled his belt and unbuttoned his pants. He could feel himself being stimulated, fought his urge to undress her too quickly and end the game. He pulled her to her feet, struggling free of his jeans and helping her out of hers. They stood together in the moonlight which streamed in from the window, shadows behind the curtains. All that stood between them was her pair of slinky, satin bikini-cuts and his boxers; and in good Irishman fashion, Murphy was still in his socks. Ciara laughed as he lifted her and lay her carefully on the bed, laying himself beside her and running his hand down the inside of her thigh. She gasped in unforeseen pleasure at his touch, her small hand pressing him closer from the small of his back. Her hand strayed lower, sliding his boxers off. She kissed him on the inside of his thigh, kissed the small of his back, then took off her own underwear in one smooth motion.
They were laying side-by-side, facing one another, their efforts making them short of breath. Murphy caressed her body from shoulder blades to hips, excited as she pressed against him. She returned the touch, then rolled beneath him. They hovered there for a moment, searching each other's eyes, waiting for the dissent which did not come. After a long pause, they came together. Ciara's eyes shone with blissful pain as he entered her. She bit into his shoulder, gritting her teeth as he slid out, then in again. Soon, the primal rhythm took over, pleasure replacing pain, both satisfying their urges and enjoying one another. They climaxed at the same time, collapsing together in exhaustion, enjoying the feeling of him inside her, and her around him. After one long pause, he pulled free, kissed her softly, and rolled her into his arms. They both trembled from the rush of it. Murphy found the blankets with shaking fingers and pulled them over Ciara and himself. His arms wrapped around her, and he held her close. Being with her had been like God speaking all over again. He knew in his heart that this was the girl he wanted to marry. There would never be another like her. His childhood fantasies had all been satisfied after one night. "I love you, Ciara. More than life itself," he whispered, but she had already fallen asleep. He kissed her eyes, joining her finally in the realms of exhausted, sweet slumber.