It's crazy that I've got 9 replies on the story! Thank you for giving them to me, all of you. It's exciting to know that you love this story and I've piqued your interests as to where it's going. :D I feel accomplished.
Now, there is an update coming on this, I apologize for the lack of the reply on Saturday night. My friend Michael is moving to LA at the end of the month, so we went out to the club to have some fun and wish him farewell. I had a blast. I meant to post an update, but I just was too drunk to do it lol. So I am sorry for that. But the update is coming now.
I own nothing from The Boondock Saints, not the characters, the story line of the movies, or the actors. I only own the character I came up with for this story. No copyright infringement is intended.
:-) More story time.
-Brina's POV-
Having no windows made it hard to keep up with time, day and night, and when to go to sleep. None of it mattered in the long run. Connor would come, bring food, not say a word, then leave again. All she had to do was eat and sleep. She still wore the chain on her ankle, which grew more and more sore as time went on. She watched Connor walk in, set the tray on the table, but instead of leaving, he stood for a moment looking at her. "Brina, I'm going to have to finish this tomorrow. I miss my brother. I miss my life. And I can't waste any more time with babying you as a hostage." She had gotten this speech every so often from him. At first, she was scared he would do it, but he would come in, set down the food, and then leave again. Now, it seemed like a hollow threat.
He turned and walked back out into the hall, closing the door behind him. She heard the familiar click of the padlock, and his footsteps go quiet as he left. Now was the time for action. She stood up on the cold concrete floor and looked around. Maybe a story underground, the best she could judge. If it was only a story, there would be some way to get to the top, a pipe, hole in the ground. She looked above the bed and saw an older rusty looking pipe leading from the ceiling down two or three inches, then leading out above the door Connor used. She climbed the best she could to the top bunk and tugged on it. Moving only slightly, she wrapped both her hands around and jerked. Once. Twice. And again for a third time. The pain in her ankle grew considerably, but she ignored it and tugged again. This time, it broke loose an inch, and water squirted from the pipe, into her face and the floor.
Angry, she punched at the pipe, and a flood of water cascaded onto her, the sheer force sending her backwards and falling. When she stopped moving, her head ached, and the water wet her hair and back as it continued spewing from the pipe. It was too much work to open her eyes, so she lay there, falling asleep.
-Murphy's POV-
I had just gotten out of Brina's shower when Doc entered. "Murphy, there's a f-f-fella down stairs. It's Smeck-s-s-s FUCK! It's Smecker." Murphy gently patted Doc's shoulder. "I'll be right down. Gotta get dressed." Doc nodded his head and turned, leaving the apartment. Murphy found a clean pair of clothes in Brina's closet and slipped them on, before he headed downstairs. Smecker sat at the bar, quietly, shooting fireball whiskey. As Murphy sat down, he poured another shot and slid it over to the youngest brother. As he drank, Smecker talked. "Murph, I've looked at the records first. The only suspicious thing I found, was a text message, from the day you said you last saw your girlfriend, later in the evening. It was from you to her and all it said was, 'Go with Connor.' Does that ring any bells?" Murphy pulled a pack of cigarettes from his pocket and lit one up as he took a paper Smecker offered him. His eyes darted back and forth, everything was accounted for, in his memory, save for that last text message. "I never texted that to her, Paul."
Smecker leaned back in his chair and rested an arm on the bar top, looking at the lost brother. "Well, blessed be, your phone isn't dead. Not yet. I turned on the GPS and the location was down near a marina. Some warehouse district. It's been closed off for years, no one ever goes there. Except the occasional party kids to drink, but that's about it. There's no guards, no police, no cameras. It's gotta be where he's hiding your girl." With almost a full cigarette still going, Murphy quickly stubbed it out in the ashtray and looked at Smecker. "Paul, how soon can we get there?"
Smecker took one last shot of the whiskey and set the glass down on the counter. He finished off his cigarette and stood up. "We can leave right now."
-Brina's POV -
She felt the sunshine on her skin. The warm light, making her smile as she felt a breeze. She looked around and saw trees, flowers, a small park. She felt the back and forth motion as she was pushed on the swing. She held onto the chain and started going higher and higher. She didn't realize what she was doing, until it was too late. She had jumped off the swing and fell, hard onto the grass. She looked into the blue cloudy sky and saw Murphy smiling down at her. "You alright?" She smiled and nodded yes. "Brina, wake up. You've got to open your eyes, baby. Come on. Wake up."
Her eyes popped open just as water was covering her nose she jolted upright and looked around. There was almost two feet of water covering the floor now. She looked up and saw the pipe still spewed, like a faithful fountain. The feeling of sadness and depression overcame her when she realized Murphy wasn't there. The stinging pinprick found her eyes too quickly as she crawled up onto the mattress. She gathered her knees up to her chest and hugged them, letting her eyes rest on her knees as she cried. She wanted this to be over. To survive, be with Murphy, and not have to worry about anything. She wanted out.
She took a deep, shaky breath and climbed off the bed. She sloshed through the water and over to the bunk across from her. She grabbed a vanity case and opened it. There was makeup, cheap jewelry, and her heart busted through her chest as she saw it. A bobby pin. She snatched the small piece of metal and returned to her bunk. She picked off the little rubber tip and inserted it into the keyhole on the lock. The water was at the edge of her bed, about to overcome her. Pushing the anxiety of it out of her mind, she focused on the lock. She turned the bobby pin one way. Then another. She became frustrated and jimmied it up and down in the lock. A sickening snap made her stop. She held the pin, realizing the lock would now be jammed.
Even if someone found her, she would need bolt cutters before she could leave the room. She rested her back on the wall, tears coming again. A glimmer of hope, then it got even worse. Sobs began escaping from her lips. She couldn't hold back anymore. She wanted Murphy. She wanted to be home in her bed with him holding her, and telling her everything would be okay. But she didn't know that it would. The sound of the water spewing everywhere overcame all other noise, so it surprised her when the door opened and the water flooded out.
Connor stumbled into the room and over to Brina. He looked at the pipe above her head and cussed out loud before he left again. She felt like being in a catatonic space wasn't so bad right now. Sit and stare. Sit and stare. Nothing else mattered anymore. She was trapped with a psycho guy, chained to some bed, in who knows where. He stared at her as he water continued to rush out of the room, seemingly disappearing. He rested his hands on his hips and walked closer to her, leaning down to her face. "Tomorrow. Mo cuishla." He pushed away from her and slammed the door shut, locking it back, and she was left alone again, to wait for her death.
- Murphy's POV -
After leaving Doc's, the both of them had searched half the warehouses in the marina, but to no avail. No Brina, no Connor, and no clues where they might be. It was the next day and Murphy sat in the car, waiting for Smecker to grab his coffee and bagel for the morning. He was anxious to get back to it. He flicked the butt of his cigarette to the street and watched as Smecker emerged from the shop and climbed into the vehicle. Paul started the engine and they were rolling through the streets of Boston. "Murphy, there's no way to pin point where exactly they are. But we'll search the other half of the buildings, we may find nothing. I'm not trying to be a pain in the ass cynic, but I'm just being realistic."
Murphy didn't speak a word as they neared the marina. Smecker parked the car and both men got out, shutting the door quietly. Murphy pulled his gun out of its shoulder holster and followed Smecker. After four more of the buildings, Murphy had started to lose hope, but Smecker stopped him just short of turning around a corner. They booth peered around the edge and saw Connor. His hair was a mess, his clothes were wrinkled and dirty, and he looked to be in a panicked rush. He jumped into a car and peeled away from the building. The two men looked at each other and nodded. They rushed from behind the corner and to the door Connor had just shut. Murphy raised his boot and kicked as hard as he could, to find a darkened stair case.
Smecker held Murphy back as he stared down the stairs. They turned another corner and came to a set of doors with a chain and lock hanging limply from one of the handles. A musty wet smell wafted around them as they realized the door was open. Now, it was the moment of truth. Murphy slid his gun into its holster and pulled the door open. He walked inside the small confined room. There were lockers and four bunk beds, a chain laying on the ground, a pad lock beside the leg of the bed, and absolutely no sign of Brina.
He sighed and turned around to Smecker. "Murph, I'm sorry. It doesn't look good. If she were still alive, I'd bet nuts to bolts we would have found her here. He might have ki-" He was cut short when Murphy started kicking and punching one of the lockers, screaming in rage. When he first saw the first few spots of blood on the locker door, Smecker grabbed his arm and pulled him away. "Murphy! Listen to me. You have to calm down if you want any hope of finding her. Beating yourself, hurting yourself, will do you no good if we are still going to try to find her. Let's go back to the car and try to regroup."
Hesitantly, Murphy went with him. As they stepped back into the sun of the day, Smecker's phone rang. He pulled it from his pocket, looked at the display and answered. "Smecker." Murphy pulled a cigarette from his pocket and lit it up, taking a long drag. He looked at Smecker as he paced and talked. "Okay. That's great. Thanks. We'll be there in fifteen minutes." Paul shut his phone and slid it back into his pocket, smiling at Murphy. "It's your lucky day. That was Doc. Brina came home." Murphy's eyes grew wide and he stared at Smecker. "When? Is she hurt? Is she okay?" Smecker raised a hand to quiet him. "Why don't you ask her yourself."
So I know this was terrible. I was trying to type it out while a 2 and a half year old was bothering me, my tooth was pulled Tuesday, and I'm on pain medicine for it. So I know this was terrible, but I think it gets the basic gist across from what I'm meaning and trying to say. So there's the update. Hope you lovelies like.