His Saint || Murphy Macmanus

xɪ. ᴛʜᴇ ᴅᴇᴠɪʟꜱ ᴅᴇɴ.

"Be safe." Murphy cooed, slipping his touch away from Ariana. She nods with confidence, watching him leave the room the same way Connor did.

Ariana stood in a lull, readjusting her stockings. A nervous tick overcoming her as she thought about what is to come. What felt like an eternity, a small knock finally comes from the other side of the dressing room door. A small young woman name, Lola, appears from behind the door. Her large eyes were urgent but her face calm. Ariana and Lola had known each other for a brief moment during Ariana's bar days at the old strip club in East Boston. Ariana knew Lola would do anything for an extra buck, even if it meant assisting in murder.

Lola waves Ariana to follow behind. "So, there's ten of those men. Two are in the VIP sections, but I am guessing the guys are taking care of them now." Ariana follows behind Lola, noting every word deep within her skull. They walk down a dark corridor not too far from the dressing room. At the end of the hall was the entrance of the main stage. "Me and the other girls cleared out anyone who might be caught in the crossfire. Kill these fuckers dead." Lola turned to face Ariana, a smirk on her square-jawed face.

"You want us to kill them?" Ariana raised one brow, confused by the look of excitement. "Not in it just for the money?"

"I think The Saints are doing the right thing. You guys are protecting us and getting rid of the dirty men who harm women like me," Lola tells Ariana truthfully. "They hurt my girls every day. They need to pay for what they've done to us. We are still human, Ari. People seem to forget that. Anyway, good luck."

Lola scurries away from the back of the stage to find her fellow dancers. Ariana held the lip of her coat, taking in the information given to her. The Saints were seen as hero's to many people within Boston. Never did she think people she knew personally supported Connor and Murphy.

Letting out a sigh, Ariana shook her head to focus on the task at hand. She faces the maroon-colored curtains with her chin raised. With her tongue pressing against the inside of her cheek, Ariana stepped from behind the curtains. Pacing herself to the middle of the stage where a sleek pole had been installed. The mother, who never poled danced in her life, despite working in a sleazy club before; stood motionless. Her wide brown eyes search the judgmental faces owned by the men she is supposed to kill. The bright light illuminating the platform half blinds her, causing Ariana to slightly panic. If she couldn't see her targets fully, she fears one slip might get her killed.

"Do something!" A man shouts from the back. Ariana snapped her daggering orbs towards the voice, ready to bark at him for being rude. Instead, she notices the curtains in one of the VIP booths behind the haggler move. Connor's head peeps behind the thick fabric, face scrunched up as if to be confused by her delay. He points at someone, but Ariana couldn't quite understand what his motion meant. She glanced around the room, attempting to pinpoint who or what he might be referring to.

Then, with aggravation, Murphy's grouchy voice hollers from the other side of the room:

"JESUS FUCKIN' CHRIST! JUST DO IT!"

Without hesitation, Ariana quickly pushes the coat off of her, letting it fall around her feet. One or two of the mobsters stood once realizing what the false stripper is doing. Her shoulder holsters were now recognizable. Before they could reach for their weapons, Ariana slid the twin pistols from out of their home, aiming both barrels straight at her now victims.

In slow motion, Ariana got the familiar feeling of what it is like to murder someone who deserves it. The blood begins to pump and the pupils dilate. Completely in bliss despite the carnage happening right in front of her. Connor and Murphy are just as quick to join in. Taking out the men closest to them. War began to break out within the building. Bullets fly and gunpowder swirls within the large room. Ariana sprints from the stage, dodging any stray iron. With her guns in hand, she snaps her attention on Murphy struggling with a man ten times his size.