A/N:
Woah, lookie here. Two updates in less than a week. I wrote this on a whim, more or less as a filler chapter with some details here and there. Sorry for any grammar mistakes (or just mistakes in general), I wanted to update as soon as humanly possible, but not make this chapter complete shit. Review pretty please?
"Alright Conn, let's just get back to the motel. We've been lookin' around too long," said Murph in a defeated tone.
"Are ye sure, Murph?"
"I don't honestly see what other options we have, I mean…" he said, trailing off with his hand ruffling his hair. "She's got to be safe now, righ'?"
"I would think so, aye," said Connor, with a slight nod of agreement.
They started heading back through the alley, confused and cigarette-less. Connor took the key out of his pocket, and attempted to quietly re-enter the motel with Murphy behind him, but to no avail. Noah was sitting in the armchair with the dimly lit lamp next to him, expressionless and with crossed arms.
Murphy tried to hesitate a reminiscing chuckle amid all of the tension. It was as if he was seventeen years old again, sneaking into the house at some ungodly hour with one of his girlfriends at the time. Ma would sit with the exact same countenance, and shake her head with that same look of sheer disappointment. It was slightly amusing, to him at least.
"Da…," was all Connor could manage to mutter.
"Nice of ye sorry bastards to come back. The fuck is wrong with you two?" said Noah, trying to retain some control of the volume in his voice.
"Cigarette run went a wee bit unexpected," said Murphy, trying to avert his gaze to anything else in the room but his father.
"You mean to tell me tha' you two snuck out in the middle of the fuckin' night, while we're being the focus of a manhunt, to get bloody cigarettes?" said Noah, anger growing more evident with every word.
"Suppose tha' about sums it up," said Connor with a nervous chuckle.
"Ye are a sure a bunch of fuckin' eejits," muttered Noah, still with tints of anger. "So? Finish yer story then. What was so unexpected?"
"There was a girl—," started Connor.
"Oh, here we fuckin' go," said Noah, putting a hand to his forehead.
"Oi, just listen, will ya?" said Murphy, walking over to the bed on the right and sitting on the edge.
"There was a girl, young too. Couldn't have been more than seventeen er so, but she told us she was nineteen, which could or couldn't be true," Connor looked to Murphy to continue where he'd left off.
"Long story short, we had to shoot a couple of guys that were attackin' her. She walked off afterwards, but told us tha' her name is Eva. She had guns, Da, six of em'. Fittin' righ' in her jacket," said Murphy.
All Noah did was nod pensively, and wait for them to finish.
"We think she's one of us, we're pretty sure of it actually. Checked one of the fuckers' phones, and well, suppose there's another vigilante here in Boston, it's her. It has to be," said Connor.
"Sure sounds like it. Ye think Smecker has anythin' on her?" interjected Noah.
"Even if he did, what would we tell him? We don' even know her full name. 'Eva' could just be an alias, or somethin' like that," said Murphy, biting his thumb.
"Worth a shot though," said Connor.
"Well what are ya boys tryin' to accomplish here?" asked Noah pessimistically.
The twins looked at each other in bewilderment. They didn't really know. More than anything she was a brief fascination, but maybe she had answers.
"I jus' want to know who she is," said Connor with a straight face.
"If she's like us, it can't be just her alone. We could stay in Boston, in this town, and do what the Lord meant for us to do," said Murphy, trying to process his stream of thoughts.
"Tha' sounds like a slim hope. All on chance, over a girl, who ye don' even know shite about," he said argumentatively.
The room was silent for a moment, it was broken when the phone started to ring, making all of them jump slightly. It seemed like that's how all of their conversations were since the reunion, thick tension, aggravated yelling, awkward silence, repeat.
Murphy, who was closest to the phone, answered on the second ring.
"Hello?" he said, trying to desperately cover up his accent to whoever was on the receiving end of the call.
"Murph, it's Smecker. Nice try though on trying to hide that accent of yours."
"What is it?"
"Well, I got a question for you three."
"Aye?"
"Why the hell are you two out still killing mafia when you should be hiding?"
Murphy's stomach dropped.
"You still there, Macmanus?"
"Aye…"
"Thought I told you guys to lay low, what the fuck is up? Why is the station down here getting calls about mafia knock-offs in a different county?"
"Who called it in?"
"The lazy fuck cops up where you guys are. I know you two are involved. Don't deny it. Who else at two in the morning? Hours before we start the escape plan, less than two miles away from the motel you are staying at?"
"There was someone else, Smecker."
"Don't pull that bullshit, ar—"
"I'm serious."
"Start talkin', Irish boy."
"Do you have records, any at all, in the past week, month, year, whatever the fuck, of any more acts of vigilantism?"
"Let me check…besides you guys, not many."
"Well, what are the few?"
"Looks like there are seven scattered about hits. Russian and Italian mafia. All fatal gunshot wounds. Mostly underbosses and peons. Hardly publicized because well, they are mafia hits. No in-depth investigation. They look like mafia hits anyway, we figured that's what they were."
"They aren't."
"Care to elaborate?"
"The two guys up here? Yes, Connor and I killed them. But, they were after a girl. She, and someone else, maybe a couple of others, are most likely the actual killers. I don—"
There was a knock on the motel door.
"Hold on, Smecker," said Murphy, quietly putting the phone on the table.
Connor and Murphy pulled out the guns that they already had loaded from the cigarette-running errand. Noah pulled a pistol out from the drawer on the bedside table. Connor inched up towards the door, making sure to not make any swift or sudden movement. He looked through the peephole, and there she was. "Eva" and a tall, slim man were exchanging words outside.
As a precaution, Connor signaled Murph and their father to be ready. He opened the door quickly, and within mere seconds, all five of them had guns wielded. They all stood silently, motionless as statues, eyes shifting from one to another.
Murphy looked into Eva's dark eyes, and they were cold as ice.
"Somebody needs to start talking," she said, leering at the Macmanus men.
A/N:
And the drama continues :) Need to find some inspiration and get rid of my looming writer's block. Help me out! I'm begging for reviews here. Debating on whether to keep going with this story or not.