"Wake up, Murph," Connor smacked the back of his brothers head. He then pulled the thin white sheets off of Murphy with a tug. "Da needs to speak to us about somethin',"
Murphy peeked from between the pit of his elbow, gripping his hair with his hand as his arm hid most of his face. Connor stood above him with Murphy's only source of warmth in hand. Last night was a very long and stressful one. This running away from the cops is never-ending and Murph grew tired of it. How much he missed just staying in one spot without worrying about looking over his shoulder.
Yet, Murphy knew this is only the beginning and what they had done was the right choice.
Pulling himself together, Murphy sat himself up at the edge of the makeshift bed, rubbing his eyes. The sun bled through the large square windows of the old abandoned factory he, Connor, and their father had been hiding in for almost a month. Most of Boston has forgotten the place so no police would dare to come this way. At least, not any time soon.
Pulling his worn boots onto his aching feet, Murphy squints his eyes up at his twin with his upper lip slightly curved.
"What's wrong?" Murphy questioned, yanking the left boot from beside the filthy mattress.
Connor held his gaze on Murphy. Their father had been found three months prior by coincidence. As the twins made a name for themselves, Noah Macmanus had been released from his cage at the top maximum prison just north of Boston. His job was to find the twins who the public named The Saints and kill them on the spot to defend the Italian Mafia. Their search in Ireland had failed, however, coming back to Boston just a year ago proved to the boys that their prayers had been answered. For their father had been locked away all these years and if they hadn't come back; Neither of the boys would have found Noah.
Still, all of the killing and having their father in their life came with consciences.
"I'm not sure yet, " Connor replies after a momentary break to think what their father might have wanted. "But it isn't good."
Murphy only nods, he then pulled a white t-shirt over his head to cover up his bare torso. Moments later, the boys walk out of what used to be a rather spacious office into the factory floor where everything had been taken out. Leaving only bare dirty flooring. In the middle of the bare working floor sat Noah Macmanus. He sat down in a rusted metal chair, puffing on a cigar. Those blue eyes rest on the small fire made out of small branches and random pieces of paper.
"Da, " Murphy says, sitting down on the dusty floor. With a perplexed stare, Murphy pats his hands together to rid any gathering dirt that stuck to his skin. "What's goin' on?"
"I have some troublin' news, my sons, " Noah says. His fingers rubbed his long silver beard, thinking what would be the best way to say any of this. Their mission was to get out of America and stay in Ireland until things blew over. After the assassination of Papa Jo, a well known Mafia Boss, the three men had to hide. There wasn't any arguing about it. However, Noah just heard the news from his connections of the Russian Mafia pushing more into Boston. For one person and one person only.
Connor slipped a cigarette out of his coat pocket, his brows furrow in slight concern. What exactly could be so troubling? To the point where a man who made a career of opting out other men who were evil.
"Ariana Jacobs, " Noah starts.
Murphy snapped his head upward, his own cigarette fell from his mouth. For three years he hadn't heard that name. Of course, he thought of Ariana every day and wished he could have made up with her after moving back. But he was too afraid to see her again. Murphy knew she will never forgive him.
He couldn't quite understand why Noah would bring her up now. They only spoke about her once.
"Ariana?" Murphy questioned. Panic began to boil in the middle of his chest. "What's wrong? Is she hurt? Is she dead?"
Noah raised his hand, shaking his head. "No, nothin' of the sort. I think ye know what I may be talkin' about." Noah's aging eyes glistened due to the small fire. The factory too large to allow natural light to fall completely within. Murphy shifted under his father's longing stare, not quite sure what Noah might be implying.
Connor rolled his cigarette in between his fingers, thinking this over. Something wasn't right. "Think it is time to just let it out, da. If Ariana is in danger, we gotta do somethin' to make sure she is safe. If someone found out we had connections with her three years ago, then we gotta take action now before it is too late."
"I don't think yer understanding, Connor." Noah leaned forward in his chair, flicking his eyes towards Connor. "With those dumb looks on yah faces, I can only assume neither of yah know."
Murphy and Connor took a glimpse at each other. Noah throws his cigar into the fire, not too impressed with the cheap tobacco. Reaching his hand into his coat pocket, Noah pulls out a manila envelope and holds it out towards Murphy. With a blank expression, Murphy stood only for a moment to take the thin envelope away from his father. Sitting back down beside Connor, examining the front of the envelope carefully. Murphy then flips it over and shakingly opens the seal.
Inside the Manila envelope is a limited amount of files, paperwork, and photographs. Files of a woman named, Kisha Christian mostly. Murphy read the first file in silence, biting the edges of his thumbnail as his eyes scanned the black ink printed across the page. He took in every known validity about the woman but still couldn't understand until he tucked the file behind a photograph. The photograph was of Ariana. Her driver's license, in fact, taken when she was perhaps sixteen. Murphy's brows knitted with confusion as Connor took a good look as well.
"Is that -" Connor snatches the papers and photographs away from Murphy. "I don't....da, what is this?" He flips through the papers, noticing documents of another familiar face; Ariana's only living relative, Ty Jacobs. "What is this?!"
"Have ye ever heard of the Muslim Mafia? Or maybe I should call them the Black Mafia as the news preferred them as." Noah kept his eyes on Murphy who managed to take back Ariana's old photo. "They began in Philadelphia. At first, small. So small most didn't comprehend their activities. Small criminal activities such as drugs and robbery, however, after a while they became bigger. Possibly bigger than the Italian Mafia at one point. Things got bad and then worse. By 1975, they had hit their peak and as it goes, Samuel Christian was once a powerful man. Who owned just about every business on the block of every black neighborhood. Until they say he was eventually killed. That wasn't the case...
....Samual knew what would eventually happen and vanished. Getting the word out that he died, allowing his gang to slowly fade. The truth, Samual moved his family to Harlem where they continued their business up until his actual death. Leaving behind a daughter who was the only one to live the -"
Noah paused as Connor flipped to the photographs of a crime scene. A father, mother, and son - all shot and assassinated by someone unknown. Connor flicked his eyes away from the body of the young boy. Perhaps the parents deserved death, but not a child. Not like that. Why kill a kid? For what reason?
"Did she do it?" Connor questions lowly, breathing out slowly.
"No, " Noah says, "She was in Philadelphia visiting an old friend."
Murphy sat in silence still staring down at the photo of his ex-lover. All of this made no sense. Ariana told him that her family died in a car accident when she was eighteen and moved to Boston for a new start with her cousin. Murphy pressed the palm of his hand against his forehead, shutting his lids to give his brain a rest. In a way, Murphy felt slightly heartbroken, however, this is just payback for keeping his own secrets right?
"Is she still -" Murphy couldn't finish. His throat clenched and his mind thought of having to eventually haunt her down to stop the evils.
"This is bullshit, " Connor threw the photograph of Ty Jacobs onto the floor before him. "Why are you telling us this?"
"Because I fear she may be in danger. She and her cousin no longer wanted to link themselves to their past. I believe that is why they changed everything. To escape that life. But others, they blame them for a lot of tragedies, " Noah shifted his feet on the concrete flooring, pressing his thumb against the inside of his left hand. The old man only held a limited amount of information from their resources. The last known information can either make or break Murphy. "I have more."
"No, " Murphy spat, stumbling to his feet. He needed to escape or at least get a breath of fresh air and away from the truth. The young man leaves the large room to escape from any more truths. His head ached and his heart couldn't take anymore. Stepping out into the cold breeze, Murphy paced in front of the worn-down factory with his head low. With his unlit cigarette still between his fingers, he pressed the proms of his palms against his temples.
Why is he so hurt? Why? Because she kept her whole life a secret. Kept the real Ariana away from him for three years without uttering a word.
He didn't tell her about leaving Boston, but that couldn't possibly be at the same level of his own deception, right? Is he allowed to be hurt?
"Murph, " Connor stood by the large double metal doors. He held a small photograph between his fingers. His blue iris held a gaze Murphy hadn't seen Connor have before. Once his twin stopped his pacing, Connor met him halfway, holding out the polaroid picture towards Murphy.
At first, the youngest twin gave the back of the photo a look of horror. Too afraid to see who or what was in the picture. Was it of Ariana? Posing for the camera with a cheesy smile on her face? Was it a picture of them before he broke her heart and left without any real answers? With his lungs hitched, Murphy slipped his thumb underneath the polaroid and his index finger gripped the front. Allowing Murphy to take the photo, Connor watched as Murphy hesitantly flipped the photo over.
What Murphy thought would be a picture of Ariana, the person smiling back at him is unknown. She had to be at least two or three, with short messy curls, dark blue eyes, and a tan complexion. The little girl wore a pair of Elmo pajamas, holding a Disney princess doll. Behind her, Ariana sat on a couch smiling at the little girl as if she were her pride and joy. Murphy couldn't remember which princess, he wasn't the Disney movie type of guy. That's all he wanted to focus on at that moment. He didn't want to put two-and-two together. Not yet.
"Who's the kid?" Murphy finally questioned.
"Murph, " Connor began, studying the photo. "Da said her name is Grace..."
Murphy nods his head, gripping the edges of the photograph. His vision starts to blur as he sees the truth. The characteristics. The similar facial features he held with the little girl named, Grace. Then it hits him, harder than he would like to admit. Three years ago, he left behind a pregnant Ariana. The reason why she was so distant, so withdrawn. This is why. She tried to tell him several times, but there was never a good time. Then, he just left.
Without realizing it, Murphy stood there crying. The moment he came to the realization that he left behind his own kid just as their father did, tore his mind apart. History reliving itself all over again.
Connor, with furrowed brows, grabbed his brother into a tight embrace. Cradling the back of his head, forcing Murphy to hide into the crook of his shoulder. All of it too much. Too much.
~♡~
Melody's Notes;
I apologize for any mistakes.
Was in a slight rush to finish this chapter and post it by this morning.
I'll fix any problems before updating the next chapter.
Thank you so much for getting this far in the story! You guys are awesome.
Please vote and comment.
Love you guys
~ melodyxriddle (Luna)