"I want you to stop." He whispered. "I'm worried."
I nodded. It was hard to imagine Michael as anything other than the good man I knew he was. That was the reason why I was so eager to listen. To contact my boss and tell him I had gotten another offer and I couldn't pass it up. "What would I do?"
"Come with me."
I narrowed my eyes at him. "Where?"
He looked from side to side, clearly preparing himself to lie to me. "Bel...fast." He mumbled.
"Not Belfast?"
He shook his head.
"Where?"
He sighed. "Fi... its complicated."
"Tell me or I'll leave."
"Don't leave." He broke down. "Please. Just trust me, Fi."
"Why do you call me that?"
"Fi?"
"Yeah."
Michael was clearly trying to calm himself but I recognized the turmoil in his eyes. "I like it."
"I like McBride."
"Thats not my-" He stopped himself, looking like he might cry. "My name is Michael, Fi."
"My name is Fiona."
"I like it. Fi... Fiona."
"Good. whats your name?"
He stopped and smiled. "Michael Patrick McBride."
"No it isn't"
"No it is." He held my hand and shrugged. He seemed to be a better liar when he wasn't flustered. "But back to you, Miss Evasive."
I sighed, accepting that his guard was back up and I wasn't getting much else out of him. "What about me, Mr Evasive?"
"Quit." It sounded easy enough. "Ok."
"Ok?"
"I'll do it."
He seemed surprised. "Why?"
"Because I love you."
"I love you too, Fi. Forever."
That was 3 months before he vanished.
After resigning from the Irish Republic Army, I started helping Michael with deals more and more. He was less of an arms dealer and more of a criminal as I had originally thought, but that fact made for a lot of enemies for the both of us and a lot of messes left behind. I started making explosives to clean up the messes and then taught Michael how to make explosives. He was appreciative. He knew enough about c4 to get by... he knew a lot more than the average person, but I knew everything there was to know about the stuff.
Michael taught me things too. He told me about his times travelling around Russia. He told me about all the trouble he'd made and taught me about tactical awareness. I was excited to learn how to fight. I had fought many times with many people, but after being kidnapped, Michael insisted I practice. It was less than romantic to say the least. Our relationship was nothing like any other I'd ever had and certainly didn't compare to any Michael had ever had. It was almost hard to imagine romance in most parts of our relationship. Mostly, we were just friends with benefits and then there'd come a moment so passionate, it was impossible to miss the romance.
Whether it was when we were making love or making war... those times were the ones I lived for. Don't get me wrong... I enjoyed being friends with him. He was fun and sweet and cute and lively, but there were breaks in the young, wild and free relationship where I would remember what I saw in the man. Mcbride was the man who fucked me after we fearlessly sold explosives to someone. Michael was the man who made love to me when I was scared of people we were working with. He was the one I loved. The man I wanted. I'd fallen for the Irish Criminal, but McBride was a double edged sword and I lived for the rare occasions when his other side would come out.
We were both careful with each other, but sure of each other. I had never met anyone and trusted them so fast. I had never met anyone and loved them so unconditionally. I wanted him so bad, it hurt me to see him in danger. McBride was reckless, too. Childlike wonder to every step he took. Recklessness to every gun he pulled. A playfullness to every bomb he placed. He was a kid.
But a man. Oh, was he all man, at the same time. When we were alone, I found it hard to find anything child like about the man. He was sure of himself as he moved around my house. He was confident in the way he spoke to Sean and Patrick. My brothers were less than thrilled about his involvement with me, but always quick to ask his help if they were in a bind. They were as sure of his sharp-mindedness as I was. Maybe more so. His mind. Thats something else utterly man about McBride. Wise beyond his years. So quick witted and fun in his child-like work.
He made our enemies laugh in the moments before they died. He made me scream in the moments before I came. He was everything. Immature and Mature. Young and old. Quick and torturously slow. Confident and scared. He was everything. I couldn't bring myself to imagine anything average about the man. He was larger than life and I was starstruck of everything about him. He was my forever.
"Don't be afraid." McBride laughed once, noticing my shaking hands. "I've done this many times before."
I watched him confidently place a cloth over my bleeding nose. "I didn't know the airbags would deploy."
"That happens when you hit the headlights of the car." He explained. "If you want to avoid airbags, you have to..." He trailed off, noticing my scowl.
"I don't want to know." "It might be important. One time, I-" He stopped again, then shrugged.
"Your life should be a book." I rolled my eyes.
He laughed loudly. "Someone once said to me. 'This would make a great Michael McBride story, if people were allowed to tell Michael McBride stories"
I laughed with him. "Maybe someday, you can tell Michael McBride stories."
"I doubt it." He sighed.
"So, what is it? The crime?"
"Oh god, Fi." He rubbed his face. "Jail is the least of my concerns. However, if any one person knew of all the havoc I'd rained down over the years, they'd probably kill me themselves."
"Tell me." I shrugged. "I'm curious now."
"Did you not just hear me?"
"It's me, Michael. I'm not gonna kill you."
"If you knew..." He trailed off, shaking his head. "You'd absolutely kill me."
"Try me." "No. I know you, Fi. I'm not gonna ruin your image of me by being honest." He joked.
"Michael." I scowled.
He was quiet for several moments, trying to look busy in the kitchen. "Fi... I have done very bad things."
I nodded, understanding. "Can I just ask you some questions?"
"You can ask if you'll also accept that I can't answer them."
"If you can't... just say you can't."
He thought about it and then sat on the counter, facing me. "Fine, but I have questions for you too."
"Shoot." I challenged.
"No, its your game. Ladies first."
"I saw you kill Armand. It didn't... I don't know... affect you like I thought it would. I watched you do it and I felt the weight of you taking a life, but you didn't seem to notice it. It was a little concerning. I've done my fair share of naughty deeds... but killing a person...thats another level of crime. How many people have you killed?"
"I don't know."
"How often have you killed someone in the last... year?"
"I've killed 2 people this year if that what you're asking, but that is... I guess a rather low number for me. I don't kill needlessly, as you saw with Armand. It was fast. I wish I could've prolonged his death a little, because of what he did to you... but, I knew it affected you."
I nodded.
"Have you killed a person, Fiona?"
My eyes got teary. "When I was in middle school, I came home from school and an associate of my dads had been waiting for him to show up. It was just me and this 40 year old man and he pretty much immediately started undressing me. I fought him for 5 minutes or so, telling him if he stopped, I wouldn't hurt him... he didn't stop, so I stabbed him in the arm."
Michael nodded. "Good girl."
"He didn't stop. It was like... he hadn't been stabbed. I stabbed him in the stomach after that, thinking the arm wasn't enough to stop him. His intestines were practically spilling out of his body and he continued. So, I took the knife and held it in front of his face, telling him I'd kill him. He didn't stop. I begged him to not make me do it. He didn't stop... so I got on top of him and stuck it into his heart. I made it as quick as I could because I didn't want him to suffer unnecessarily. He died almost instantly. I remember how heavy his dead body was. It took all my energy to push him off me so I could call my father."
"He was probably on drugs." Michael offered softly.
"He was. Its the only explaination. Anyway... I hated it. I've never felt that feeling before and I hope I never have to feel it again."
"I hope that as well. You never get used to it." He nodded. "That feeling of taking a person off the planet... it never goes away, but you get better at coping. Armand was the easiest kill I've ever had because I literally couldn't wait to send that bastard to hell for what he'd done to you."
I understood. "Have you... ever... been tortured?"
He pursed his lips. "I want to lie because I don't want you to frown anymore."
I didn't respond.
"I've been tortured many times."
"Have you ever tortured someone else?"
He stumbled over his words. "Um... yes... Yeah I have."
I nodded. "Waterboarding?"
"I'd never." He insisted, holding his right hand up. "Swear on my life. I have never and will never."
"I meant have you been waterboarded?"
He regained his solemn expression. "Yeah."
"Ok."
"Ok?"
"Not ok, but yeah... I guess ok."
"I love you, Fiona."
"I love you, too."
"Satisfied?"
"Not really. You?"
He sighed, looking at me seriously. "Meh... secrets aren't so bad. What now, Miss Glenanne?"
That was 2 months before he vanished.