Author's Note: Hey all! Thanks so much for taking the time to read this story. As much as I appreciate views, I appreciate reviews/comments/suggestions even more! Positive or negative. (I'm not fruit, I won't bruise easily). So please, even if it's just to say hi, or this is boring bullshit, or I'm way off on characterization-say something!
Also, an FYI-I do incorporate Irish slang into the story although I don't write the story phonetically in Irish. I make it your responsibility to imagine the accent and so forth…just thought I'd address that as it has been an issue with some readers.
Chapter 8 Taking Control
"When we get down, if we get down we'll get up again. And we can take the right way out of here. I'll be sure to show you again. You've been making a joke of our lives, and you've been letting us go. You've been taking control of our lives, and we won't take it when you won't take it…Taking Control by Eisley
"Where were you?" Patience accused as Elise reentered the room.
"I just stepped out to get cleaned up," she told her. "Murphy caught me in the hall. You okay?"
Patience kept her eyes low. She hadn't looked anyone in the eyes yet. "Those dudes don't like me."
Elise bent down at the side of the girl's cot. "Look, they don't trust you," she corrected. "They don't know you enough to not like you, kiddo."
"Which one you with?" Patience questioned.
You mean which one would I like to be with? Elise thought to say. "No. No boyfriend-girlfriend stuff. How I hooked up with them is a long story. But I can tell you that they saved me from some seriously bad stuff," she explained. "I was hiding out. Like you are now, but in a convent. As a nun of all things," she chuckled. She wanted to tell her more, but a spark of fear had set fire to the girl's eyes.
That same fear trembled her voice. "What's going to happen to me?" Patience wondered.
Elise sighed. No use mincing words. "Well, I'm not exactly sure. For now, you have nothing to worry about. We're going to be here a little while getting all the details figured out. I've never done anything like this before so I'm learning as we go."
It was then Patience took a chance to open up to her. She told her she was from Cedar Rapids, a bigger city in Iowa. She'd been under her brother's guardianship pretty much all her life, but nothing had ever been stable. He managed to stay out of cages, but he couldn't keep off the crack or stay away from crime. Stealing was easier than holding a job. He taught her that early on. That day's robbery was going to be her initiation into the family's trade. But when Elise and her friends had driven up to the pump, she'd been put on hostage duty in case something heavier went down.
"When the shooting started, I thought I was dead," Patience told her.
Elise pursed her lips. "I'm sure."
"I wouldn't 'uv shot that guy. I just said that so you'd go away."
Elise cocked an unconvinced shoulder. "I wasn't sure. I've seen a lot of grimy things these past few days. More than I'd ever believed existed. You shooting that boy would've just fit right in, honestly."
She heard the girl's stomach growling. It matched the anger rising up in Elise's chest; her anger at the world and the state of the people living in it. How they spit in the face of God and then expected an easy, cushy life full of take with little giving.
"Do you just go around knocking off criminals then?" Patience asked. "Like, what's your deal?"
Again, the woman sighed. "Our deal is complicated. I'm here to find my sister. Murphy and Connor are here to make sure I do it alive. And until it's safe we are all part of the McManus Protection Program."
Patience kept her eyes low, but she nodded. She accepted this. "I'm starving," she grumbled.
Elise clapped down on the girl's bony knee protruding from a gaping hole in her worn denim. "I know. Let's go see what the kitchen crew's cooking up for supper."
Even in sleep, he thought about her. How the sight of her reverted him back to his boyhood; where lucidity walked away and awkwardness stepped in, taking its place. It unnerved him. Women had never been an issue. He'd never made them an issue. They just were. And he'd ignored or adored them accordingly.
None had ever gotten into his head before like this one. Obviously she never left. Fuck, we were just kids. It was just some kid crush. He was going to convince himself one way or the other to drop it. Drop her. Him, his brother, the Aul Man-they had chosen their path. It was the one leading far, far away from the likes of the everyday romances of life.
He heard Connor shuffle in, but he still played asleep.
"Murph, get up," he barked.
Murphy's torso twisted. He faced him, but his eyes stayed lazy.
"The shit's going down. Get up," Connor said.
He flashed to consciousness. He sat upright, rubbing the sleep from his face, back into the short muss of hair. "Hunh? What shit? What's going on?"
Elise.
"Here. Wake up."Connor tossed him a few smokes. He took a revitalizing drag himself. "I just talked to Johnny Yakavetta. That fucking weasel set us up."
He was still chilled from his jaunt to a nearby drugstore to make the call and grab some cigs, but he took off his coat. Leaning, he lit his brother's cigarette with the burning cherry of his own.
"How do you know?" Murphy mumbled.
"I fucking heard him. Speaking Italian to someone else in the room. Probably whatever wop is right underneath him on the chain."
Murphy wanted answers. "What'd he say?"
Connor winced, exhaling another refreshing plume of smoke. "Well, he told me good job," he huffed, unnerved by slimy dego's patronizing tone. "And that somebody'd show up to relieve us and take over the situation from there. Then, he told someone else 'they've arrived. Go. Kill them all. Every fucking person in the place. No witnesses'." Connor laughed. "Yeah, you should've heard it. It was all Don Corleone Godfather sounding shit, too."
Murphy blew smoke to shut him up. "Don't start with your movie bullshit." His head wagged; not from defeat but from disgust. "Those fucking double crossin' wops think we're dumber than a bag of dicks."
Connor nodded, his brow rising in agreeance. "Can't argue with that."
"They're going to find out otherwise," Murphy muttered around the cigarette. He moved into action. Jumping off the top bunk, he bent over to scoop up the bag of weapons and ammo they'd smuggled in to the shelter's basement.
"We gotta tell Elise. We gotta get the fuck out of here."
Connor waved him off. While his brother fumbled with the guns, he searched the room for anything that would work for an ashtray. "No. We don't tell her. I don't want to deal with any female panic bullshit."
Murphy paused. He scowled at his brother. "You got a plan?"
Connor shrugged loosely. "Not exactly, but I know the Yakavetta broad doesn't want to go back to hiding again. And we know what she's capable of. The woman ain't no Rocco, but she can at least shoot better," he sniggered. "I just figured we'd stay put. Fuck running. Running is for pussies. I say we stay and end this shit once and for all. Do what we do."
Murphy threw his arms over his head, cheering. "Fucking A-Allright! You know I love this shit! What now?"
"We need to regroup. We need to let the chick know I connected with Little Johnny, but she needs to think everything's cool. No bad vibes, ya hear me?" Connor said.
Murphy wasn't convinced. His face held the unsure look that usually followed one of Connor's more questionable suggestions. "I don't know, Con. That seems a bit dishonest, don't you think?"
Connor winced, pinching his fingers together to indicate a small amount. "Maybe a little. But eh."
They eyed each other, pondering, until a smear of a sly smile dirtied Connor's face. "Hey, I gotcha something else at the drugstore."
Murphy was hoping for some drink, but instead a pack of brightly packaged condoms sailed across the room, smacking into his chest. He caught them before they landed.
"What the fuck, Con?"
Connor winked, snickering. "Thought you might want to seal the deal before we stand off."
"You pig," his brother sneered. "I told you before to have some respect. She's all staunch Christian and shit."
Connor interrupted, waving his genteel bullshit to pass. "Yeah, yeah, she's all Christian and shit," he mimicked. "Still, the woman's been celibate for eight years. Can you imagine eight years dry? I don't know about you, but that shit sounds like a fucking eternity to me. All I'm suggestin' is you jump on that wagon and go for a bit of a ride because you never know what could happen when the shit hits the fan. If it was me, you can bet your ass I'd do it."
"Then why don'tcha?" Murphy baited.
Again, he was waved off. "We've had this conversation already. You fucking know," he said. "You need to man up. Take control of that shit and quick-like before you lose your chance."
Connor wagged his head. His face settled into a cross between disappointment and wonderment. "You'll teach her the family prayer, but you won't fuck her. I don't get ya sometimes, little brother."
It hit a nerve. They'd adamantly refused to let Rocco participate in the sacred prayer mainly because he wasn't a God-fearing man. He'd been on the fence. Elise was different. Her heart was pure; her soul saved. She was one of them; chosen. Connor knew it. He just had to say anything to get under his skin.
"Whatever," Murphy grunted. "I'm going to see what there is to chow around here."
He started for the door after flinging his brother' idea of granted approval and permission on top of the bunk.
The smell of something edible, but not necessarily tasty led the boys back to the dining hall. Lunch had been served hours ago, but steaming tables of leftovers had been left to sit for late stragglers while the few late afternoon volunteers started dinner prep.
They slipped in, snatching trays and piling them with whatever filled the warm metal bins. They kept their eyes low, humble.
Connor sniffed at the food. "Could be anything, but I think it's something to do with broccoli and rice."
Murph shrugged. He replaced the spoon dripping with disgraceful, wet mashed potatoes. Behind the serving counter, he heard the confidence in Elise's voice as she spoke to someone opening a bag of frozen whatever at a long work table.
"The food here is prison-quality. We're feeding the down-on-their-luck not the scum of the earth," she quipped, brutal but nice. "Tomorrow I want full access to the menu logs and monthly food budget. Chances are since you're serving mostly frozen and pre-made food instead of cooking from scratch, you're coming up short at the end of the month and skimping on the extras. I mean-no ketchup? Who eats French fries without it?"
Murphy smirked to himself. Her blunt tongue was never overshadowed by her kind spirit, but they certainly worked oddly well together. He looked up, wanting another glimpse of her. He found her, leaning out the service window at him. She was making a silly, punch-drunk face at him.
"If the mobsters can't kill ya the food here will surely do you in," she whispered.
He pounded against his stomach. "Iron gut. 'Sides, I've lived off Crap in a Can before. This is five stars dining in comparison." His head flicked back, indicating his brother. "Have you eaten? You wanna join us?"
She shook her head, eyes darting to the gaudy wooden cuckoo clock clasped to the far wall. Its black metal arms stretched over roman numerals that seemed out of place on a piece of Americana. "I'm waiting for Emilia. She should be here any minute. And this kitchen. Wow." Her head wagged again, disdainfully. "But I'll send Patience out to eat with you. If you don't mind."
Murphy shrugged. He could care less, but his brother…sending the stray to eat with the pack. He wondered what the one with the meaner bark would have to say about it.
He settled beside Connor at one of the cleaner oak tables. They bent their heads and gripped the beaded crosses dangling from their hung necks. Connor would lead.
"Oh, Heavenly Host. Bless us, oh Lord and these, thy gifts, which we are about to receive from thy bounty through the Christ, our Lord. Am-".
A mind-numbing squeal tore through the room, ripping apart the final words of Connor's gratuity. They both recognized its high pitch and authenticity.
Fuck. Elise.
Both flew from their seats, piloted by instinct and intent. The cheap metal chairs flipped and folded behind them. Their guns were out before either could get around the table.
"Elise!" Connor bellowed. The exigency in his brother's voice fueled an explosion of purposeful madness in Murphy. He pulled ahead of Connor, but his anxious twin practically tripped on the heels of his scuffed boots trying to get to her faster.
All Murphy could think of was getting to her. Shielding her. Killing for her. It wasn't for the job or the honor or the retribution. It was for something else. Something he couldn't deal with in that moment. She's one of us. He'd let his rage do the thinking and his piece do the acting for now. He'd sort the rest out later.
They approached the only door into the kitchen. Shouting and chaotic buzz seeped from under its crack, but Murphy held Connor back with an outstretched arm.
You ready? Murphy's intense eyes questioned. His brother's stern nod was all the answer he needed. With one grand lunge, Murphy propelled through the door like an expended bullet.
Connor barreled in behind, calling her name urgently. "Elise!"
Everyone in the small room reacted. Two volunteers jumped and scrambled beside a heavy refrigerator. Another fell to the ground; Patience, Elise's stray, landing practically on top of him. A woman gasped. She grabbed at two children, dragging them into the protective custody of her arms.
Elise, at the sight of the boys with their arms outstretched, pointing steel barrels at her, blinked her shock. "Yes?" She chirped.
"What the fuck?" Murphy shouted. "We heard screaming."
Connor's mouth twitched furiously. "You're fine?"
Her head bobbed madly. "Yes. I'm okay. What's-"
"Goddamn it!" He exploded. "Then what's with all the commotion back here?"
She pointed, a bit shaky, at the dark-haired woman harnessed to the children. "Emilia. She's here."
Breathing, they chuckled away their hasty response to the noise as they lowered and reholstered their guns.
"Geeminy Christmas, guys," Elise exhaled. Her hand fluttered to her chest. "You about gave me a freaking heart attack."
"We thought you were being attacked and shit," Murphy explained.
"Our apologies," Connor wheezed through his laughter. His arms danced above his head, signaling their safety. "Carry on, everybody."
His eyes landed on the woman and children they'd busted ass to get to. The kids clung to her tightly, their faces smooshed against her side. Both sets of eyes stared at him, wide with terror. He bent down to them, his face softening into an approachable grin.
"Hello, little ones," he said. "I'm sorry we gave you such a fright. I thought your aintin was in trouble. Ya understand don'tcha?"
The boy nodded. The girl hid her face.
Slowly, the room breathed and moved back into action. The two refrigerator hiders untucked their stowed bodies, going back to their dinner preparations. The few men that had been in the dining room eating a late lunch had poked their heads through the wide service window, examining the scene with calm curiosity.
Patience untangled from the young man beneath her. He dashed, probably for the bathroom, while she recovered beside Elise. She wiped at a trickle of tears that had fled helplessly from the corner of her almond eye.
"It's okay," Elise quietly soothed her. "Go get yourself something to eat." She gave her a kind of half hug with the side of her body, dismissing her.
"Sorry," Murphy muttered as the shaken up girl scooted past him.
Elise spoke up. "Now that we've established that nobody's being murdered." She touched her sister lightly. Then, gestured to the guys. "Emilia, this is Murphy and Connor McManus. The notorious saints of Boston. Quite honestly, they're the only reason I'm even standing here right now."
Murphy wanted to object. Tell her she'd handled her own without flaw. That she was capable of doing anything, getting anywhere without anyone's help, but he kept silent. Instead, he said a cordial hello and shook her sister's gentle hand.
Connor followed suit, pasting on his usual cocky charmer of a grin.
He'd noticed right away what a looker she was. Striking green eyes with the same flashes of gold as Elise. She had her sister's curves too, but they were solid, fluid in her fitted blouse and dark jeans. She had the Mediterranean skin of her father's lineage, but there was an undercurrent of red flowing through her dark hair, vaguely mentioning her mother's Irish decent.
He held her gaze, nodding his acknowledgement. "Good to meet ya."
"Yes, thank you," Emilia said. Elise was sure her sister had blushed.
Ah, the McManus magnetism. It attracts everything, she mused.
He addressed the children at her side. "And who are these little chiselers?"
Emilia unwrapped the two from her. She held proud to the boy, a few inches taller than his sister. "This is Max."
Max grinned, tight-lipped. He pumped Connor's hand with a tight grip.
Connor ruffled the boy's thick wavy hair. "Good kid. I can tell already."
The little girl wasn't as easy to convince to be pleasant. She grasped at her mother, keeping her squat, plump body hidden from him.
Again, Connor bent to her. "Aye, looky here. She's a mini-Elise." He touched at her, only one cheek that she couldn't paste against her mom. "With the chubby cheeks and everything. What's your name, lovely?"
The little girl scowled. She slapped at his hand, and Connor recoiled quickly.
"Elizabeth!" Her mother gasped.
But Connor whipped into a fury of laughter. "Aye, she's definitely her aintin's niece."
Elizabeth scampered from her any chance of punishment. Emilia trailed after, scolding her with words.
"Elizabeth?" Murphy repeated to Elise.
She nodded. A frown stole across her lips. "The name I chose when I entered the convent. In her memory."
His shook his head, solemn. His eyes glared an intensity that kept her staring back. "You're together again. Be happy."
"I am," she breathed. She lifted the corners of her mouth to prove it.
(End of chapter)