Torrin entered the pub through the kitchen door. She could hear the noise of a full house coming from the front of the building; taking a deep breath, she prepared herself to face Connor. He and Murphy must have refrained from telling Aven what had happened because Torrin was sure if her cousin knew that the Russian mafia was aware of their existence and had threatened to come after them, Aven wouldn't still be serving drinks behind the bar, joking around with Connor, Murphy, and Rocco.

"Called Alana to come in here soon. We need to talk," Torrin informed her cousin. Her eyes strayed to Connor who had the good sense to look very disappointed in himself.

Aven shrugged. "All right. Good of her to come back in."

"It is," Torrin agreed before taking a couple orders. "Murph, you've got a good shiner there."

Murphy chuckled, his brain buzzing and no longer concerned with Aven knowing he had been injured doing business. "You should see the other guy."

Aven laughed, but Torrin didn't. She knew too much to find humor in the situation. Feeling impatient about Alana's return to the pub, Torrin left the counter to clean up a little bit out on the floor. Bottles, shot glasses, and plates from the last of the kitchen customers seemed to be everywhere. Like everything else at the moment, it grated her raw nerves and made her want to scream. She shoved trash into the big barrel on wheels, filling a bussing container with the glasses and plates as she went. When the bell over the door announced Alana's arrival, Torrin pushed it all back to the kitchen and waited for Aven.

"All right, my dearest cousin. Tell me what's going on," Aven sighed, heaving up on the counter and swinging her legs.

"Ya won't be so damn cheerful here in a minute when I tell you what's going on," Torrin warned. "What are you so cheerful about, anyway?"

"Murphy likes me," Aven replied with a big smile and her biggest school girl impression.

Torrin rolled her eyes. "Did he tell you how he got that black eye?"

Aven's cheerfulness started to dissipate. "I guessed it was from whatever they did tonight. I didn't want to ask questions, once he finally showed me the fuckin' thing."

"The Russian mafia knows about us." She waited to let the statement sink in and received an acceptable facial expression from Aven.

"What?" Aven slid off the counter and pulled a mobile phone from her pocket. "What do you mean, they know about us? And why do they care?"

Torrin recounted everything Connor had told her. "They know who we are, they know where we live, they –"

"Wait," Aven interrupted. "They know who we are in that they know we exist, or they know who we are?"

Torrin shook her head. "My guess right now is that they know we exist, but if they're trying to get at the boys, they'll look to find out where we work, who our families are – all of it."

"Jesus, Mary, and Joseph!" Aven exclaimed, pushing the bussing container into the sink. It created a satisfying crash. "I'll make the call. Maybe you should make one, too."

"No," Torrin replied sternly. "We don't make any calls. We start making calls and that throws up red flags. They'll figure out we know something."

"So, what, we take on the whole Russian mafia on our own then?"

Torrin knew that Aven had a point. They had guns, they had ammunition, and the skills necessary to protect themselves. None of that, however, meant that they could take on such a prominent underground organization on their own.

"The boys could help us. They would help us, if we asked."

Aven shook her head. "They nearly got themselves killed tonight over us. We can't ask them to risk their lives again. One of us has to make a call, Tor."

Torrin sighed. Aven was right, but she really didn't want to involve Aven's supports just yet. So, she gave in.

"I'll call when we leave tonight. It'll be early back home, but they'll be awake. Should be anyway." She studied Aven's expression. Her cousin's features had become strained, and her chest was heaving with angry breaths. "I should have waited to tell you, eh?"

Aven shook her head and let her arms drop from where they were crossed over her chest. Her hands balled into fists at her sides as she shook her head. "I'm not upset with you. There is someone I am upset with who should have told me all of this shit when he had the fuckin' chance."

Torrin hurried out of the kitchen after her seething cousin. The girl had a temper, that was for certain. No doubt a patron or two, perhaps even the target of her current anger, had purchased whiskey shots for Aven, which would only increase her tendencies towards violence. Murphy was sitting on a barstool, his back towards the kitchen, but Connor saw Aven coming – and must have noticed the look on her face because his eyes grew as big as saucers.

"Watch her!" Torrin called out, still trying to catch up to Aven's angry pace.

Connor stood to get out of the way; Torrin figured he knew he'd get caught up in the whole thing if he didn't move. Aven called for Murphy who turned to her with a smile.

"Hey, here's my Aven!" He reached out to put an arm around her waist, but Aven cocked her arm back and decked him in the eye, just above the first bruise he had received that evening. He lost his balance and fell off the stool, taking a good bump to his backside when he hit the ground. "The hell is the matter with you, girl?"

"You eejit!" Aven yelled. "You should have told me!"

"Should have told you what?" Murphy groaned back, trying to pick himself up off the floor.

Aven lunged at him again, but Rocco got a hold of her while Connor helped his brother up. Torrin just stood by; perhaps it was best to let this anger play out. She watched as Aven struggled to get at Murphy again.

"You told me I should hear it from Torrin," Aven growled. "No, I should have heard it from you. It was enough to risk your life getting angry at them for me, but that's where you draw the line, eh? Well you can get away and pull a wire with that shit!"

Connor looked to Torrin who shrugged. "Better take him home before she kills him. Then we'll have a real mess on our hands."

"This is bullshit!" Murphy yelled as Connor and Rocco dragged him out of the pub.

The two women watched him go, then told the spectators to get back to what they were doing, the night was still on. Torrin looked to Aven, who was re-securing the ponytail behind her head.

"Got it out of your system then?" Torrin asked.

"For now," Aven muttered. "Just make the call when we get home so this shit can be done with as soon as possible. I've got other things to worry about."

"Will do," Torrin promised, looking towards the door.

She caught Connor's eye as he struggled to pull Murphy out of the pub and direct him somewhere else. She couldn't help but think again of the kiss. Yes, she had kissed him back. Yes, she had liked it – hell, it had nearly made her knees give out. Gavan had never kissed her like that, and maybe that's why Connor scared the hell out of her. He made her feel things that Gavan never had; no one had ever made her feel those things, actually. The truth was, there were reasons why Torrin had chosen to stay in the States after high school, and Connor's lifestyle fell too close to those reasons.

The truth was, that was the reason why falling for him scared the hell out of her.

.&.

The girls skipped coffee in the pub that night, opting instead to make a pot of strong, black coffee at home. They sat at the kitchen table and sipped at the steaming beverage while Torrin called home.

"A call from Boston. Couldn't be my long-lost daughter, now could it?" Belinda Hannigan teased.

Torrin smiled, her heart breaking with longing for her mother. "Could be, and it is. That troublesome niece of yours is here with me, too."

Belinda gasped. "Oh, Lord Jesus. The two of you aren't calling from jail, are ya?"

Torrin couldn't help but to laugh. "Not this time, Ma. How've you been?"

"Just fine, dear. Keeping busy with a new cooking class on the weekends. Your father's been off on business a lot lately, so I just keep myself occupied until he comes home again."

Torrin grew quiet. She knew what her mother meant when she said her father had been away often on business, and Torrin hated to hear it. She hated thinking of her mother alone and hated thinking of her father involved in any of that mess. But, it had been that way all of her life, so there was no turning back on that knowledge now.

"Tori?"

"Yeah, Ma, I'm here. You know, if you're ever lonely, you can come here and see us. See the pub, see Boston."

Belinda sighed. "Perhaps I'll do that soon. I'll speak to your father and let you know if we make arrangements."

"Perfect," Torrin grinned. "Speaking of Da, is he around?"

"You've called early enough, he's enjoying his coffee and breakfast right here next to me. I'll pass the phone over – I'm off to the shower and then work. We'll speak soon, dear."

"Love you, Ma."

"Love you. Here's your Da."

Torrin waited just a few minutes before the gruff but loving voice of Peter Hannigan came on the line. "Hello, Red."

"Hello, Da." Torrin tried to remember the reason for the call, and it kept her from smiling at her father's nickname for her. "How are ya?"

"Just fine. Keeping busy, trying to take care of your mother. There's nothing I wouldn't do to keep her happy, you know that."

Including criminal activity, Torrin thought, but said aloud, "Hope to find someone as sweet as you someday."

"You will. Now come on. Your ma's out of the room. You and Aven tell your dear ole Da what's going on. You're calling at this time, must be important."

Torrin let out a deep breath and put him on speakerphone. "I've put you on the speaker, Da. Yes, we need to talk to you about something. We're a little concerned that the Russian mafia may be looking at backgrounds on both of us."

Peter was silent for a few moments. "And how did this predicament happen?"

"Nothing we've done, Uncle," Aven assured. "Some regulars are the bar are … we've gotten close with them, and the Russians are not so happy with them at the moment."

"Taking your work home?"

"Nothing like that." Torrin rolled her eyes, even though her rebuttal wasn't entirely true. "They're good friends. Anyway, the point is, the Russians may come to us to get to them."

"I'll see what I can do to cover tracks for you both. Unless, Aven, you've employed your own connections to clear your history."

Aven looked at Torrin before answering. "I haven't. Decided maybe they don't need to know about this yet."

"That'll need to stay the case if I'm to figure this out for you. I'll also need names of the men who've brought this to you."

Aven shook her head. "They don't need to be dealt with."

"Yeah, Aven already took care of it," Torrin teased. Her humor was finally coming back around now that she knew her father had control of the situation. "Punched out one of 'em tonight and kicked 'em both out of the pub."

"They'll come back, no doubt with Russians on their tails," Peter warned. "Listen, girls, let me make some calls while I can do it in privacy as Belinda's in the shower."

"Maybe she shouldn't know about this. I'll be in big trouble if my parents find out this is going on. Supposed to be here to get away from things like this," Aven reminded him.

"Yeah, I know. Let me make the calls and I'll get back to you."

They ended the call there, finished their coffee, then decided to watch the sun come up before getting a few hours of sleep. Aven pulled a cigarette from behind her ear and lit it once they were seated on the balcony of the apartment.

"I hate that shit. Can't see how you stand to have your lungs burnin' like that." Torrin wrinkled her nose in disgust.

"It's a good burn," Aven replied. She took a long drag and held it in for just a few seconds before exhaling. "You know, if the Russians are coming, we're sitting ducks up on this balcony."

"True, but you know the drill. Better to play dumb."

"Aye." Another drag. "Think I took it too far, punching Murph like that?"

Torrin laughed and shook her head. "Honestly, Av, wouldn't expect anything the least bit different from ya. He deserved it."

Aven nodded. "Are you going to tell Gavan about the Russians?"

Torrin thought for a few minutes. "Better he doesn't know, I think."

Aven nodded; Torrin hadn't expected that stoic expression from her. "Suppose you're right about that. Why don't you just give him up, Tor? He's no good for ya."

"It's like you and those cigarettes, then?"

"Fair point," Aven ceded. "Except these I only indulge in once in a while. Maybe more often since Murphy came around. But then I've been drinking more, too."

"I know what that leads to – and if no one else in the pub knew, they know now, after you hauled off on poor Murphy."

"Poor Murphy? Why do you have sympathy just for him? Poor Connor was looking like someone ran over his puppy when he came down from the apartment."

Torrin groaned. "Right. Probably because he kissed me, and I kissed him back.

Had that information not come right as Aven was inhaling off of her cigarette, she may not have choked on the smoke. As it was, she finally put the damn thing out and tried to catch her breath. While her cousin composed herself, Torrin finally got the story of the kiss off her chest.

"Failed to mention that little bit when you told me earlier what was going on, didn't ya?" Aven said. "Torrin. It's all right to leave Gavan for someone else. Were he a better man, I might tell you different. He's not though. Not by far."

Torrin shook her head and checked the incoming text message on her mobile. "Da says we're to go to church today. And why are you on Connor's side, anyway? Him being around would mean Murphy would be around."

Aven rolled her eyes. "I'm aware of that. I'll get over being mad at Murphy, no doubt the next time I'm sober and I see him, damn it all. Never had this weak of a heart before."

"'Bout time someone tried to tame you," Torrin teased, standing up and stretching. "Although with Murphy MacManus, I daresay the two of you will just find trouble together."

"Perhaps," Aven smiled, a pink blush decorating the tops of her cheeks. "Guess we better catch a little shut eye before we go see the Father."

"Suppose you're right."

They headed off for their separate bedrooms. Once in clean, comfortable clothes and staring at the ceiling over her bed, Torrin's mind again drifted to Connor. She had no clue how Gavan would react if she tried to end it at all, let alone to be with someone else.

I'll get past this first, she told herself. First we'll deal with this Russian thing, then I'll think about Gavan and Connor.

Perhaps she could put off thinking about Gavan, but that morning for Torrin, there was no putting off thoughts of Connor MacManus.

A/N: Just wanted to thank everyone who has favorited/followed this story. Means a lot! Anddddd I have to give special thanks to crazililwabbit for all the help with this story and for inspiring Torrin's character. Just like in the old days, right?

I set up some Polyvore sets for this story, so as soon as I post this chapter, I'm going to try and figure out how to post the link in my profile. Fingers crossed. Check 'em out if you have some time.

Thanks for stopping by!