Life continued that way for a while. I would weasel my way into pubs and the like, picking up various mafiosos. After a month, my body count was up to six. I was earning a reputation among the men. Sean was the one who dubbed me "Angeldust". One taste and they were hooked. Though I made a big show about hating it, secretly I loved having a nickname. I was one of them. My father was quite proud of what I'd done without even touching a gun. All of that was about to change.
One night, I was closing up the store. Dad and six of his men were having a meeting that night. Some woman wanted to have her cheating husband blown away. I was taking off my apron and walking to the back when I thought I saw a car parking outside. I didn't think anything of it. It was probably just the client.
"I'm done," I said, walking into the back room.
"Taylor's on his way to walk you home," he said. I resisted the urge to stomp my foot like a little kid.
"He's only interested in sleeping with me," I said.
"Don't be dramatic, Erin. He works for me and this is what I want him to do. He might as well enjoy it," he said. I bit my tongue. There was no point in arguing. Before I could say anything, there was a knock at the door. Sean went to see who it was. He looked back at my father, alarmed.
"What is it?" he asked.
"It's not the client," he said. My father looked through the peep hole. I didn't know what he saw, but he quickly locked the door. It rattled like someone had kicked it. The other men stood up and drew their guns. I stood there, not sure what to do. It rattled again. I could hear my heart beating in my ears like a thunderstorm. Whoever was on the other side of that door wasn't here to make our lives any easier.
The minute the door burst open, my father shoved me under the table. It was the fulfillment of his promise to my mother. Then the shooting started. I'd never heard anything so loud in my life. No less than ten high powered weapons were going off. I covered my ears and buried my face in my knees. I prayed they wouldn't find me and I'm not a praying woman. Just as quickly as the pounding in my ears started, it stopped. I dared to breathe. Then I heard them.
"Look what we have here," a man pulled up the table skirt and looked at me. His brown eyes looked quizzically at me. I didn't speak. The words stuck in my throat.
"Don't touch her," another voice said. A big white bearded man crouched and looked at me as well. "Come on out love. We won't harm ye," he coaxed in a thick Irish accent. I reluctantly crawled out into the carnage. I saw my father and half a dozen of his men dead all over the back of the store. My knees gave out before I realized it. The third one caught my elbow and kept me from falling.
"Careful," he said. I looked up at him. It was the first time I would lay eyes on Murphy McManus. He smiled gently which disturbed me. How could a man who just killed my father look so kind?
"Thank you," I stuttered.
"What's your name?" the other asked.
"Erin," I replied.
"I'm Connor, this is my brother Murphy," he said. "And that's our father." The older man dipped his head slightly.
"Why did you come here? Why did you kill them?" I asked, fighting tears.
"It's kind of a long story, but let's leave it at this. Evil men, dead men," Murphy said.
"Who are you to say my father was evil? You have no right to take away the only parent I had!" I screamed.
"Then come with us," their father said.
"You care to repeat that?" I said. "Why on earth would I go with the men who just took away everything I knew?" They had no answer for that. They stared at me and I stared back. I was trying to steel myself, but something in Murphy's eyes made me soften. It felt like all the breath had gone out of me.
"Where else do you have to go?" Murphy asked.
"Nowhere," I replied softly.
"Then consider my offer," the old man said. I was silent as tears streamed down my face. I was ankle deep in bodies and blood. These three strange men were trying to whisk me away from it all. My brain felt like it was going to explode.
"If you want to kidnap me, just do it. All his money is mine. Do you want me to write you a check and save you the trouble?" I said.
"Money isn't what we want," Conner said.
"Then what the hell are you doing? I doubt your self righteous credo is the only reason," I snapped.
"Someone was bound to hear the shots. Just come with us before things get more complicated," Murphy said. "Please." It was the please that got me. I had no idea why at the time, but I knew I'd be okay. I took his hand. We ran out the back of the store. I was officially on the lam.
A beat up old car was parked in the alley behind the store. It looked like it would fall apart at any moment.
"That's your car?" I asked.
"Why?" Connor asked.
"You aren't going to get anywhere fast in that thing. Follow me," I said. They did as they were told. My dad's Mercedes was parked in the lot.
"Nice," Murphy said.
"Get in," I said.
"Do you have a license?" Connor asked.
"Not your problem," I said. We all got in the car and I drove us back to my house. I wasn't sure why I had all of a sudden taken control. In later years, I came to realize that was my way of coping. I had to survive and to survive among murders you have to exhibit dominance.
I let them into the house and into the living room.
"Before anything else happens, I want answers," I said. They were taking in the opulence of the house.
"What do you want to know?" Murphy asked.
"First of all, who do you work for?" I asked.
"No one, bit of a divine mission thing," Connor said, sitting down.
"Divine mission?"
"We destroy evil in the world to give good room to grow," Patri said.
"So you carry out God's mission by killing? Doesn't sound very on par with the whole 'Thou shalt not kill' thing," I said.
"It's complicated," they said. I didn't feel like pursuing it.
"How'd you find us? How'd you even know we exist?"
"Met a guy in a bar. He told us about the meetings and the hits," Murphy said.
"Did you happen to catch a name?" I questioned.
"Taylor," said Connor.
"Taylor O'Hollran?"
"Yeah, that was it," said Murphy. My jaw dropped.
"You know him?" he asked.
"Know him? He fucking works for us! He was my father's favorite for God's sake," I said. I covered my face with my hands.
"He worked for you?" Connor repeated.
"Yes," I replied. "Jesus..." The only consolation I had was he was as good as dead. The minute the surviving six hitmen found out he was the mole, they'd kill him. Of course, Taylor had a gift for saving his own skin. He'd do anything to get away from them. This was so far from being over.
Then I heard a loud banging on the door. It had begun. I looked at the three.
"Hide," I said. "I'll be right back."