Boondock Saints

[Jessica POV]
I was back stage getting ready to change when Yuri appeared behind me in the mirror. I gasped and turned around.

"Why didn't you dance?" Yuri asked.

"I'm not a stripper, Yuri." I answered.

"Maybe that's exactly what I should do with you."

"I will never do that for you!"

My mouth should have just stayed shut. A strong sting slammed me in my left cheek and I felt myself spin and slammed my head right into the mirror. I heard a loud cracking sound then suddenly felt something warm crawl down my forehead. The loud ringing and dizziness almost knocked me on my ass.

"Shit!" Yuri cursed and snapped his fingers. "Victor, take her home and clean her up." He ordered.

"Come on lets go, I'll fix you up and make it all better." Victor gently grabbed my arm and walked me to the black limo, opened the door for me, and followed me in.

The whole car ride was silent. My head was throbbing and I felt deeply tired. Sometimes I wondered why I didn't hit him back. Maybe it was because my instincts told me not to. He was strong and his men had guns. Lots of guns and I didn't feel like eating bullets.

We pulled up to the driveway and walked into the house. I was sitting at the kitchen, holding a small bag of ice over my cheek while Victor started cleaning my head wound. One moment it was peacful then suddenly two guys entered the room, guns in their hands. Victor ordered me to get down as they started shooting. I sat down on the floor, covered my ears, and listened to my heart race. I closed my eyes and told myself that this was all a dream. It had to be. I had been dreaming for five long years that my brother or some man would save me from this hell hole.

I kept my eyes closed until I felt a leather-gloved hand raise my chin up. I saw a handsome man dressed in blue jeans, black shirt, and a black peacoat. He had dark and crystal blue eyes. My heart beat actually began to slow down and I felt my spirit being lifted.

"It's okay, Patrick sent us. Come on." He spoke in an irish accent like my dad.

"Do you got the girl?" The other man with dark hair asked in the same irish accent.

"Yeah." The man turned back to me and began taking his coat off." My name is Connor Macmanus. This here is my twin brother,
Murphy."

"Where's Patrick? Is he okay?" I asked as Connor wrapped his coat around me.

My ice pack fell off my legs and landed on the ground. I was full of embarassment, these two hot guys could easily see that I had just gotten my ass beat. Then there was the fact that I was dressed in langerie and whore heels.

"He's fine, but we got to go. We will take you to him." He grabbed my hand and helped me up.

We all ran to their blue car that looked pretty old. It was hard running in heels but I made it work. The cold wind blew on my legs and my breathe clouded infront of my face. I held onto myself and when I jumped in the car my heart suddenly went out of control. Was I really going to do this?

I shut the car door and cuddled in the seat. 5 long years of not seeing my family, 5 long years with out a secret, 5 long years of nothing but fear and strict. Freedom was in my reach but it was now something i was terrified of. Was I doing wrong or right? My intentions were all pure but I couldn't tell what was wrong and what was right.

I hadn't seen my brother in so long or my mom and dad. This wouldn't be a good impression for them but hearing their voices would be good enough for me. Ecspecially Dad. No one could make me feel better like him. He always managed to make me happy even during my worst days.

They started the car up and took off. It seemed like the car couldn't go fast enough. For a few minutes it was dead quiet until the two guys began to speak in a different language. I recongnized it as french.

"What are we doing with her?" Murphy asked in French.

"Taking her home, what else would we do?" Connor replied in the same language.

"Where are her and Patrick going to sleep? We only got two beds." Murphy pointed out.

"Patrick said that he doesn't live far from here that he could walk her home but I'm thinking of just giving them a ride." Connor kept the conversation in french.

"Right, wouldn't want a repeat of what happened a while ago. Then we'd have to save her again, she'd end up slowing us down. She obviously can't take care of herself. If she could she would've never been caught up in this kind of situation." Murphy complained.

I licked my lips and leaned forward in between the seats as I spoke in french.

"I put myself in this situation to save my family from those russian bastards. If i did take care of myself' I would have gotten them all killed, including my brother. So for your information, I can 'take care of myself.' I just also know when the time to do it is." My french was still perfect.

Murphy turned in his seat, giving me a surprised look while Connor chuckled. He then turned to Connor and asked, "Did you know she spoke french?" Still in french.

I switched my language back to english.

"Of course he didn't. If he did he wouldn't have spoken in french cause he mine as well speak it in English." I answered Murphy.

Murphy again turned to me, "What other languages can you speak?" He asked.

"That's really not important right now. All that matters is knowing how Patrick and everyone else is." I replied.

Murphy gave Connor a questionable look like there was something I needed to know. My heart began to sink and my chest felt numb.
"Are my parents dead?"

The thought hurt me and the dead silence answered my question. I took a deep regged breathe. I never got to tell them goodbye or how much I loved them. My right hand balled into a fist and went infront of my lips as I fought with my emotions, trying not to cry.

"Patrick's alive, I guess that's the good news."
My eyes searched the buildings as they began to slow the car down. My brother was just minutes away. We were the last of our family.