The Saints Are Coming

I unshielded my watery eyes at the sound of footsteps and stumbles. Connor had easily taken down the small Italian, but Murphy forced the large one to simply stumble back. I pressed my stained hands to my carpet and pushed myself to my feet. I stumbled groggily into my kitchen, searching for my house phone.

“Murph!”Banging continued in my living room as I gripped my counter for support.

I reached the phone and with shaking fingers, dialed 911. I set it to the side, allowing them to listen in and find my address. I began to dig through my drawers, trying to find anything to use as a weapon. It seemed like this kitchen was brand new - I couldn’t figure out where anything was. Things crashed, banging continued and then there was a gunshot. It only became eerily quiet. I let in a gasp; the boys.

“No!”I grabbed a thick knife from the draw and stumbled to the living room.

The large Italian man had fallen back, a large hand to his chest. Murphy was leaned against my overturned couch, Connor on his feet. His arm was extended and in his hand was one of the guns. The man quickly rushed forward, taking Connor down.

“Connor!”I rushed along the couch and jumped to my intruder.

Before I had made any attack I was tossed to the side like a rag doll. The man raised a bloody, shaking fist before coming down on Connor’s jaw.

“Connor!”I scrambled to my feet, beating Murphy by seconds.

I didn’t take aim, there was no time. I swung the knife down, feeling it push through the flesh and muscle. I retrieved it from it’s meaty surroundings and came down again. And again.

“Rose!”Murphy gripped my arm, stopping me in the middle of my violent outburst.

The knife fell from my fingers and landed with a gentle thud on my stained carpet. Realization came back to me and I began to tremble. The fear, the pain, the sorrow.

“Come on, Rose.”Murphy helped me to my shaking feet.

“Connor,”I reached out to him, but Murphy pulled me away.

“He’s alright.”His arm snaked around my waist to help support me.

I watched Connor get to his feet and limp forward. He was okay. Oh, god, he was okay. Sirens cried in the distance and I knew it was going to be okay.

“Did ya call this in?”Connor asked.

The words stayed jumbled in my throat, so I simply nodded my head. He smiled warmly and pulled me from Murphy’s arms and into a tight, relieving hug.

“It’s s’alright now, Rose. Yer okay.”I pulled my arms around his chest and cried.

Just cried. He tightened his grip and pressed his hand against my head. I stained his shirt more than it was as I sobbed into his shoulder.

“They’re almost here.”He stated so very calmly.’You’re okay now.”

Murphy eyed Connor and Roisin down cautiously. He needed a short amount of time to search the two Italian peons. Connor looked up at Murphy while still attending to Roisin’s fear and sadness. His eyes approved of the action and Murphy quietly began to pat down the smaller man. He had roughly been taken down and beaten until he stopped moving. Was he dead?

There was no rise and fall on his chest. Just blood. A lot of blood. Within seconds, Murphy had received both of the mens amount of cash, cell phones and beepers. If there was more to come, which both Connor and Murphy knew there were, they would not get to Roisin. They would make sure of it.