Chapter 9

Daddy's Home

Days passed, then weeks, then months. Conner, Murphy, Erika and I had created our own semblance of a family and for the first time in years I felt at home. I still slept on the couch in the living room. As comfortable as I had become in my new life I still refused to admit my feelings for Conner. He had pursued the matter of sharing a bedroom with me no further but instead stood back and waited. I admired his patience and his intuition. He knew how I felt about him. It was obvious, or at least as obvious as I could make it with my stubborn pride. I had taken a job at a bar a few blocks away. Not to help us live, because we had plenty of money, but more or less to keep up appearences and keep myself busy. I had gotten a duffel bag and filled it with medical supplies which had already proved to come in handy. The bag was filled with disintigrating stitches, morphine and various other items of use for home medical procedures. Not long after I had gotten it Conner had returned home half carrying Murphy. He had taken a shot to the stomach. I had cleared the kitchen table and began to work on him. Conner had to hold him down while I worked because the morphine had not yet kicked in. Erika sat in the living room crying and rocking back and forth in a complete state of panic. I worked quickly, removing the bullet and stitching him up as well as was possible while he flogged from pain on the table. Murphy had healed quickly and I had made it point to inform them that just because I had medical training and supplies did not mean they could get careless with their hits. He didn't seem to find that joke very amusing.

I had spent my time working and keeping things sane around our small home. I watched Murphy and Erika with a warm heart as I realized that as long as I had known Erika this had been the happiest I had ever seen her. They brought a whole new meaning to the term "puppy love." They spent nights rough housing and teasing. I envied how easily it had came to the two of them when I looked at Conner. We weren't strange to eachother. We engaged in matches of rough housing, poking, prodding and teasing but we had come nowhere near the level of comfort Erika and Murphy had reached in just a few days. This was mostly because of me. I looked at Conner and couldn't deny the feelings he aroused within me that I had not felt for a man in my life. He scared me. Scared me because I knew I could give into him completely and lose myself in the process. But despite my awkwardness towards Conner, I hadn't felt more at home since I had left Ireland and my mother.

On St.Patrick's day I had to work but had luckily talked my boss, Erin O'Mally, into letting me get off at six. I wanted to spend St.Patricks day with people I knew and loved for the first time in years. I had stopped at the liqour store to buy some whiskey and beer before returning home. Around seven thirty I arrived home and attempted to unlock the door while juggling a brown paper bag filled with alchohol and a carton of Marlboro's. When I finally succeeded in unlocking and walked through the threshhold I was shocked to see Erika, beaten, bloody and tied to a chair just outside the entrance to the kitchen. I dropped the bag and ran to her, kneeling to untie her. She wiggled and yelled but the duct tape over her mouth made it impossible for me to understand what she was yelling about. As I reached to rip off the duct tape I felt a sharp pain in the back of my skull and was knocked unconcious.

I woke a while later in the same state I had found Erika, sans the duct tape. She had also lost the duct tape that had kept her from warning me. I looked around, my vision blurry and a splitting pain in the back of my skull. I looked towards the door and saw three men. All finely dressed in suits. When my vision cleared a gasp of recognition and horror came out, "Da?"

The older man whom was dressed the most excuisitely laughed, a hard cruel laugh that sent cold shivers down my spine and a wave of horrible memories through my mind. "Daddy's home, Christa dear," He said, his cold dark eyes resting on me. He approached me slowly and with each step a terror filled each bone and crevice so completely I feared that just by watching this evil man approach me I would die from fear alone, because I knew I was most undoubtedly going to die. He circled my chair slowly running his hand over my hair softly. "You are as beautiful as your mother was. And just as foolish. Did you honestly think I would never find you Christa? That I wouldn't make you pay for running out on your dear husband I set you up with and having him killed?" These were rhetorical questions on his part so I figured it best not to tell him that I didn't expect him to find me.

Whether or not I answered him didn't matter. I had still unleashed his wrath. He struck me knocking my chair onto it's side. He stood the chair back up and began yelling at me. I closed my eyes and went numb. It was so easy. I had learned to do it years ago from both him and my husband. There was no difficulty to going back into the state I had went into so many times before. I remained silent while he screamed, I thought of Conner and Murphy. They were out. I wasn't sure where but they would be home soon, no doubt. They couldn't save me though. I wouldn't be so naive. No my father was smart. He had probably been watching us. He would be expecting them but they would not be expecting him. A tear rolled down my cheek. I had fucked up. I had spoiled everything for them. I had put them into danger by staying. Erika wouldn't be searched for. Nobody muched cared for her. I could have made her stay and left so they could be safe. I knew my father would search for me but I stayed because I wanted to know what could develop between Conner and I. It was then it dawned on me that I had not pushed Conner away for fear of him hurting me. I feared hurting him. And whether he knew it or not I would kill him as soon as he walked through that door.

Almost on cue the lock clicked and the door opened as Conner and Murphy entered laughing and a bit intoxicated. "CONNER!" I called out his name trying to warn him as Erika did the same for Murphy. It was pointless, because just as they looked to us the two men that had come with my father brought the butt of their guns down swiftly to the back of their heads. Knocking them unconcious as they had done to me.