His Saint || Murphy Macmanus

xɪ. ᴛʜᴇ ᴅᴇᴠɪʟꜱ ᴅᴇɴ.

As the clock ticked, Murphy pulled back the chamber of his pistol. His tongue press against the middle of his cheek. Allowing the realization that this endless loop with Ariana will never cease if they continue to turn their heads away from the other. If things were so simple, he'd fix what had been broken. Perhaps turn back the clock to the very moment Ariana offered to travel with him three years ago.

This simple sacrifice could have changed the outcome of everything. Not just their relationship, but change the lives connected to them. If only he hadn't ignored Ariana's sad look so long ago.

Connor pushed his pistol into its holster hidden underneath his coat. Too busy overthinking to see the longing glances from Murphy to Ariana.

The younger twin kept his blue eyes onto the mother of his child. She carefully readjusted the lace bra she wore as she kept her gaze on her reflection. Unable to make eye contact with the man she so desperately desired. Despite her anger and frustration, knowing Murphy will leave yet again will cause her heart to shrivel, Ariana recognizes that she still loved him.

"Ye okay, Ari?" Connor finally questions. "Nervous?"

Ariana slipped her arms into the shoulder holster she had been hiding deep in her closet. The question wasn't simple. She wasn't delighted with the fact of stepping back into this lifestyle. Even for a moment. It made her skin crawl.

"I'm fine," Ariana finished her look by slipping two twin pistols into the shoulder holster. Silencers are attached to each barrel for quick and effective assassinations. "I've killed people before. Just make sure you do your job."

Murphy holds out an overcoat to cover Ariana's half-naked body, the woman scowls at him. With an equal glare, Murphy shook open the coat to signify he wanted to help her place it on. With a sigh, Ariana stood to her feet, turning to face away from Murphy.

As he carefully placed the coat onto her body, Ariana suddenly held a particular question at the tip of her tongue.

One she had been keeping at the back of her mind.

"What happened to Rocco?" Ariana questioned lowly, studying the boy's reflection in the vanity mirror. Murphy ceased his hands on the curve of her shoulders at the mention of their dearest friend's name. Connor gave the back of Murphy and Ariana's head a sorrowful gaze. Remembering the day Rocco left this earth right before their eyes.

Rocco joined The Saints, he had every right to, but the brothers still felt as if his blood poured through their fingers. If they hadn't agreed for Rocco to join them, perhaps he would still be here. In the end, his untimely death was to blame on Connor and Murphy. So they believed anyway.

Connor swore no one would die as Rocco did. This is why the two men made it their duty to protect the innocent. Even if it meant being mislabeled as the villains amongst the community.

"We should speak about this later," Connor simply replied, removing his stare from his brother and friend.

Ariana could see the hurt form between the brothers. Their usual humorous expressions were replaced with guilt, anger, and contemplation. The news of Rocco's death shook the community. It tore Irene up, the man she loved taken from her in such a brutal way. Ariana couldn't imagine. It was one thing to lose a lover due to distance, death is another issue she couldn't quite fathom.

Walking to the exit, Connor held the metal doorknob in hand for a few seconds. He explains plan A once more before leaving the room. Murphy, finally releasing Ariana from his grip gave her one last look. His fingers brush against hers. Wishing to explain himself. Their eyes meet, and for a moment, he had concluded that all he wanted is his family.