“No,” Sean responded. “I called, Emery, or Emil…you know? Her husband whatever his name is. I called him several times and left messages, but haven’t heard anything back yet.”
“Aye, well if she contacts you tell her to call me.”
At that moment the boy-o started looking at him suspiciously. “Why?”
Connie had let out a fake, jovial laugh. “What?” He’d thrown his arms up. “Can’t I ask her about how she’s doing in college? I practically raised her and you too in case you’ve forgotten.”
Sean had relaxed his shoulders and nodded in agreement. “Yeah. If I hear from her, I’ll have her give you a ring.”
Sean started walking toward the door and Connie had stopped him with a, “Hey!” His voice had been loud. Booming. When the boy-o balled his fists at his sides, Connie knew that he had gotten his attention. Sean turned slowly facing Connie. “I’m not done yet.” Connie aimed his finger at Sean. “I want you to remember one thing.”
“And what’s that?”
“Don’t you ever turn your back on me boy-o.”
~~~
Murphy O’Fallon hated doing the bitch-work for the brotherhood. He longed to see action. Sometimes he wondered if any of the mob stuff he’d seen in movies was legit.
All Connie ever had him do was run errands, clean up the warehouse and blah blah blah. He wondered that if he’d ever be trusted to count the cash from drops like Sean or even collect money owed like another member named Kyle did. He guessed that since he hadn’t been a member for too long that maybe that kind of responsibility would come with time.
The sun was setting on the horizon as he pulled into the parking lot of one of the abandoned warehouses that Connie owned. He was instructed to drop off some bread and water for someone Connie was holding. Although he wasn’t one hundred percent certain who. Connie picked up randoms he was affiliated with for questioning all the time.
With a flashlight in his left hand, the brown paper bag in his right, he got out of Sean’s old mini-van and headed toward the building.
The right corner was crumbling in, the red brick was coated with a black-looking residue and some of the windows were either cracked or completely gone.
Even for Murph, who was well over six feet and almost three hundred pounds, being inside this building didn’t feel safe. Still, he was loyal to the brotherhood and when the king-pin instructed him to do something he fucking did it ASAP.
Once inside he gagged. The pungent smell of wetness and mold nearly choked him and it took everything in him not to upchuck all over the floor. After his stomach settled and he turned on the flashlight, he located the stairs and quickly made his way to the basement.
The walls were powder blue and pieces of plaster were hanging down in chunks. There was the same black residue that was on the outside of the building all over the walls and when Murph lowered his eyes to the stairs, he noticed that they were falling apart in places. It was at that moment that he wondered if he was really the right man for this job.
He took each step carefully, hoping and praying that the rotting wood wouldn’t crumble beneath his weight. When he reached the last step, he raised the flashlight high above his head, walking forward a few steps. He noticed someone bound to a chair, their head hanging down and the closer he got the more familiar the person became.
Mother fucker.
Murph rushed toward the chair as fast as he could and dropped the brown bag at her feet.
“Teagan!” he cried. “What the fuck, Teagan?” He slapped her face a few times, gently, and just enough to wake her if she was sleeping. “Son of a bitch!” Then he grabbed her by the shoulders and shook her. “Tee, wake up. Please wake up!”
Murph knew that Connie had brought her in for questioning based on something, but he never thought that he would actually stoop to this level of treatment for someone he considered to be his family. Murph also knew that Connie could be a cruel and ruthless man when he wanted to be, but to Murphy O’Fallon, at that moment he had crossed the line.
“Oh God, Teagan.” He was not an emotional man, but Murph could feel the tears pooling in his eyes. A pang struck his big, gentle heart. He knew that Connie would most likely kill him for what he was about to do, but he also knew it was right. Teagan was the closest thing he had to a little sister and he wasn’t about to let her endure anymore of this type of torture.
In one swift motion, he ripped the duct-tape off of her arms and legs, picked her up, threw her over his shoulder, and then ran from the building.
Chapter 9
~Hadlee~
I look into Sean’s eyes and almost lose it.
I’m on the verge of breaking down again. We walk down the hall a little bit and I almost stumble into Sean. Part of me wants to bury my face in his shoulder and cry harder than I ever have before, but I don’t.
I remain strong.
Solid.