(A.N. Since I didn't do this at the beginning... Erin is mine. You steal her, I keel you. Everyone else belongs to Troy Duffy and his cronies. But you already knew that.)
Getting to Andrew Sullivan wouldn't be as easy as I had made it out to be. His house was like a fortress. We'd probably have to kill about twenty guys before we got ten feet in the door. I didn't want to say anything about it, but I knew all four of us might not make it out alive. It had to be done. The circle had to be closed. We would hit him early in the morning. All his night guards would be going off duty and he'd be an easier target. It would be the first time I would carry a gun.
Murphy took on the task of teaching me how to fire it. We stood out on the lawn with the archery targets. He handed me a gun.
"This is a .22. It's smaller than what Connor and I carry, but it should do the job if you shoot right. Anything bigger might knock you over," he said. I took it from him.
"We'll see," I smiled. He stood behind me and lined up my posture.
"Put your arms out all the way. You might want to put your left hand on the bottom to help support you," he said, putting his hands over mine.
"I think I've got it," I said.
"It's loaded. Just squeeze the trigger," he said. I squeezed. The recoil knocked my hands back, but I hit the target. It wasn't a great hit, but it was a hit.
"I hit it!" I squealed.
"Pretty good for a first timer," he said. "Squeeze off a few more." I fired nine more times, hitting the target each time.
"And they say it's an art," I said.
"Can be," he said, putting a cigarette in his mouth. I took my finger off the trigger and pointed the gun at him.
"No, you don't," I said.
"Jesus, that thing's fucking loaded," he said.
"Like I'd actually shoot you," I laughed. I put the gun down and plucked the cigarette out of his mouth.
"It's a disgusting habit," I told him.
"All I got," he said. I shook my head.
"You need to quit. I don't want you dying of lung cancer on me when you're forty," I said.
"You still expect to be with me when I'm forty?" he said.
"Assuming I don't shoot you first," I replied slyly. He shook his head.
"You're crazy," he said.
"Part of my charm," I said. I picked up the gun and finished off the clip.
"Sure you don't want to practice more?" he asked. I shook my head.
"Won't matter. Adrenaline will be dictating my actions," I answered. He took the gun and we walked back inside. In about ten hours, we'd either be dead or celebrating the end of Andrew Sullivan. I was hoping for the latter.
We quietly drove up to the Sullivan house at four that morning. We'd have a fair bit of walking to do before we got up to the house. Even I was in black this time. The more we could use the fading darkness, the better. The gun felt heavy in my hand as I led us up the hill.
"How are we getting in?" Connor hissed.
"There's a door to the kitchen. It shouldn't be hard to pick the lock," I said.
"Good. The last time we broke into a mobster's house, we got caught," he said.
"Nice one," I said. The house was dark. There were only two guards on perimeter duty and they were out by the fence. I let out a breath before we reached the back door.
"Ready?" Murphy asked.
"Let's go," I said. I grabbed the doorknob and it turned in my hand.
"What?" Connor asked.
"It's open," I said.
"Open? Why the fuck would you leave the door open?" he questioned. I shook my head.
"I'll go in first and have a quick look. I'll wave you in if it's clear," I said.
"Why not let me go?" Murphy asked.
"If they catch me, I have something to bargain with. You three have nothing. They'd probably just shoot you on sight. They know who I am," I replied. They couldn't argue with that. I carefully walked into the dark kitchen. No one was in there. I had the gun out just in case. When I got to the entrance to the next room, I waved them in. They crept in behind me.
"Now what?" Connor whispered.
"His room is upstairs at the end of the hall. Be ready to shoot," I whispered back.
"God be with us," Patri whispered.
"Amen," We scrambled across the dining room and toward the stairs.
"Hey!" a voice called. We went rigid. I turned around. Someone was running at us, gun drawn.
"Fire and run!" I called. I went up the stairs first. Patri, Connor, and Murphy opened fire and ran up after me. Soon, the rest of the henchmen were coming out of the woodwork. I was dodging bullets as I ran up the stairs. I fired a few shots myself, but I don't think I hit anyone.
"Keep going!" Patri yelled. The three of us careened down the hall. The master bedroom door was obvious. I pulled at the knob, but it was locked.
"Shit," I said.
"Stand back," Murphy said. I backed away. He shot the lock and the door came loose. We pushed it open and came face to face with the barrel of a .45.
"Erin Amblin," Andrew Sullivan said. "You do look just like your mother."
"You're not going to win a second time," I said.
"You think not? Is your father coming to save you? Does he know what his precious little princess is up to?" he asked. I slid the gun out of my pocket as he kept his attention on my face.
"My father's dead, didn't you hear?" I said.
"That wasn't my doing," he said. I shook my head.
"This is mine," I fired and hit him in the knee. He went down, howling in pain. Connor and Murphy made their move and put their guns to the back of his head.
"An eye for an eye, Andrew. I hope you've made your peace with God," I said.
"My soul is not your concern," he said.
"Good," I replied. "These two will be happy to pray for you, though."
"You might want to back up," Murphy said. I took three big steps back.
"And shepherds we shall be, for Thee my Lord, for Thee. Power hath descended forth from thy hand so our feet may swiftly carry out thy command. And we shall flow a river forth to Thee and teeming with souls shall it ever be," It was the first time I would hear that prayer. The moment they finished, the guns went off. I kept my eyes open. I had to see it. Seeing someone's head literally blown apart is not a pleasant experience. I felt physically sick when I saw it. I knew that image would be with me for the rest of my life. I couldn't help but think that's how my father died. I knew it wasn't, but the thought made me shiver.
Patri stuck his head in the door.
"More on their way. We have to go now," he said. I didn't need to be told twice. We ran back down the stairs and out of the house. We were almost to the car when a single shot rang out. We stopped and looked for the source. Murphy was doubled over, clutching his leg. He'd been hit.
"Come on," I said, pulling one of his arms over my shoulders. He limped along with me as I jogged. We practically dove into the car. I got a good look at the wound. It was a through and through and it was bleeding badly. I tore off part of my shirt and tied it off.
"It'll be okay," I said, more for myself than him. He nodded, but his eyes were filled with pain.
"We have to go to a hospital," I said.
"No, no hospitals," Connor said. I looked him in the eyes.
"If we don't get to a hospital in the next ten minutes, he'll die," I said flatly. "It's your choice." Patri threw the car in gear and we were off. I knew he'd made the command decision.
"Thank you," I said, glaring at Connor. He looked genuinely hurt. I didn't care. I pressed my hand over the top bullet hole. I was already covered in blood. It didn't matter anymore.
"You're gonna be okay," I said.
"If you say so then it must be true," he said. I smiled and put my hand on his cheek.
"I'm sorry," I said.
"Not your fault. You didn't shoot me," he said.
"I brought you here," I said.
"I've had worse," he said. I knew he was lying. Getting shot dangerously close to your femoral artery doesn't happen often. I tried to smile, but my face wouldn't move. I pressed down as hard as I could on his thigh.
"Feeling dizzy?" I asked.
"Not yet," he said.
"Am I hurting you?" I asked. He shook his head.
"Not anymore than I already am," he said, poking my nose. It was in that car I realized I loved him. Maybe it was the prospect of losing him. Maybe it was just the right moment. Either way, I felt a change in myself.
"I love you," I said, finally finding the words.
"I love you, too," he answered, kissing me. For a second, I forgot about everything.
"What side is the hospital on?" Connor's voice brought me back to reality.
"Left," I replied. It was hard to miss. Patri pulled up next to the emergency room and let us out. Connor and I each put one of his arms over our shoulders. I was about six inches shorter than both of them, so we were this lopsided five legged monster limping into the lobby.
"Sit him down. I'll go sign us in and hope they don't make us wait," I said. Connor nodded as I walked up to the desk. The nurse looked up at me.
"Yes?"
"My friend has been shot. He's bleeding really badly. I'll give you five thousand dollars if you let us get him in now," I said.
"That's bribery, miss," she said.
"Look, he's going to die if we wait five more minutes. My name is Erin Amblin. I'm the daughter of Aidan Amblin and whether or not you take the money, he will be seen to now," I hissed, leaning over the desk. She got up.
"Where is he?" she asked.
"Follow me," I said. She walked behind me. Connor was taking his turn putting pressure on it. She looked at me.
"Get him back to the first set of curtains over there. I'll get the doctor," she said.
"Thank you," I said.
"How'd you do that?" Connor asked. I grinned.
"My keen charm," I replied, helping him carry Murphy to the first set of curtains.