Boston Blood

Forty four

Cillian gasped as he registered what she was about to do. No! He launched forward and tackled her to the floor, desperately trying to stop her. What the fuck have I done? 
Her body hit the hard surface with force as his weight pinned her on her back, her arms trapped under his above her head. "Get off me! You son of a bitch just let me go!" Frankie roared through broken sobs as Cillian used his right hand to secure hers and his left to remove the gun and throw it across the room. "What the fuck were you thinking? Why would you do something like that? Are you fucking crazy?" He meant to sound furious but he was sure all Frankie could her was the strained pain and guilt in his voice.  
"What? It's okay for you to want to die but when I want to do it on my own terms instead of your fucking uncle beating me to it, it's crazy?" He could barely recognise her voice and was surprised by the surge of strength her small frame was emanating. She trashed against him, forcing him to adjust his position so that he was now straddling her, the full weight of his 200 lb body crushing her into the floor. He knew his face was contorted in anguish and confusion. Why would she do this and what the fuck is she talking about?
"Get off me!" She screamed, almost viscerally and for the first since he got to her apartment, he was suddenly very sober and extremely aware that the neighbours were no doubt calling the cops. He had no choice, it was for her own safety. He held her wrists in one of his hands as he placed his other over her mouth, begging her to calm down and be quiet. It took a minute or two but he eventually felt her body give out and she stopped struggling, probably from pure exhaustion and pain. It was only then that he had a chance to fully comprehend what she had said. What did she mean she wanted to kill herself before Aidan could? And did she say something about Tommy being in our back pocket? She wasn't making sense, she was confused and obviously distraught. He glared at her with threatening eyes as he slowly released his hand from her mouth, but he kept holding her wrists, just in case. 
"Frankie, you need to calm down. You're upset and you're not thinking straight." 
She let out an exacerbated laugh as she moved her hips, slightly, wincing. He knew he must be hurting her, but he had to make sure she wouldn't pull any shit like that again. He couldn't believe that this was happening. When he left the bar to come to her apartment, he never imagined that the night would turn out like this, with both of them admitting they wanted to die. He didn't even know why he was here, really. He just knew he wanted to see her. He shook his head violently, silently reprimanding himself for his stupid, childish actions. It was a moment of weakness, that's all. A moment of self-pity and unclarity which was distinguished the second he saw her pointing the gun towards herself. In that moment, nothing mattered to him but keeping her safe. The thought that attacked his mind in the few seconds she held that gun petrified him. He couldn't lose her. This crazy, irrational, complicated, brave, brave woman. 
"I'm going to get off you but don't you fucking try that shit, again. You hear me?" He waited for her retort but it never came. She just nodded as she avoided his eyes. She looked like she was terrified and utterly ashamed and he knew he must have looked the same. 
He sat back and leaned against the couch, rubbing his hand through his sweat-dampened hair, not taking his eyes off her. She slowly got up and sat beside him, silently, wrapping her small but strong arms around herself. She was shivering. Cillian leaned away from the sofa and pulled his hoodie off from the neck and handed it to her. He was surprised that she didn't hesitate before taking it from him and throwing it over her head with extremely shaky hands. They were silent for a long time before Cillian sighed and said; "I need a fucking drink after that. Trust me to be in the apartment of the only girl in Boston that doesn't drink." He stared at her from the corner of his eye and felt his tight back relax slightly when her lips curled up in a tiny, pained smile. 
"Frankie, I don't know what to say, only; I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that. It was a stupid moment of weakness. I just let things build up too much. I didn't mean it. I couldn't leave Lucy behind and-, I'm a fucking moron." He dropped his head but knew she was staring at him. She didn't speak and he found himself silently wishing she would talk to him, to tell him what was going through her mind to make her feel this way. He knew what was, of, course. Her life had become a even worse than it had when she was forced into living with the nuns, when she moved to Boston to fins her brother who was ripped away from her only to turn to drugs as a way of coping and it was all his fault. 
The silence was becoming deafening and putting Cillian on edge but he didn't want to force her. She was clearly distraught and he wanted to give her time. She had just tried to threatened to kill herself, claiming that she would rather do it instead of...
Cillian turned to her, quickly, causing Frankie to instinctively recoil, slightly. The subtle movement made his heart sink. She was afraid of him.  
"Frankie, what were you thinking? Why do you think Aidan is going to kill you? And what was all that shit about Tommy being in our pocket? What were you talking about? You're confused, that's all. You clearly haven't been eating or sleeping much. Maybe you're just-,"
The intensity of her eyes stopped Cillian mid-sentence. Her big, watery, green eyes were flickering between his, studying his face. 
"You really have no idea, do you?" She whispered, looking visibly taken aback.
"No idea about what? What are you talking about?" 
She bit her bottom lip, causing his eyes to linger there for a second too long. She knew something. Something bad but she was hesitating. The fear was evident on her face and it made his stomach turn. He turned his body so that he was facing her and grabbed her knee which was now covered by his black sweatshirt. 
"Frankie, tell me. Now!" 
She opened her mouth but the sound of a phone ringing made her jump. Cillian grabbed it out of his pocket and looked at the name that flashed on the small screen. "It's Aidan, I should an-,"
Her small, shaky hand was wrapped around his, squeezing with ferocity.  "Don't answer it," she whispered, her eyes pleading and scared. Cillian furrowed his eyebrows and slowly placed the phone on the coffee table, the harsh vibration against the wood the only sound piercing the growing tension. It stopped after five rings and Cillian saw Frankie release a relieved breath. 
"Frankie, what the fuck is going on? You have to tell me. What do you know?" 
She closed her eyes and let her hand fall to her lap, Cillian immediately missed the warmth her touch had been providing. 
"He's working with Tommy, Cillian. They're planning something. I over heard Kevin and Tony's wife say that they were all working together, within Tony's crew to take him down, to kill him and-, and all of you, I think and me, I assume." 
Cillian's head whipped back, involuntarily. His teeth were flashing from behind his tight lips in a smile. "Frankie, you're exhausted, you don't know what you're talking abo-," 
"Cillian, listen to me. Aidan is playing you! He's been playing all of you and me. He's working with my father! He's been lying to you all. They're planning to kill Tony and take over his business. His wife and Kevin are in on it. She's having an affair. I thought you knew and that you were sent here to kill me and I just wanted to go on my own terms. I don't want to let them win and I-,"
Frankie stopped immediately when Cillian rose to his feet. He was pacing the room, furiously, shaking his head like a child. "You're even fucking crazier than I thought. This is ridiculous! There's no way in hell Aidan is working with Tommy Ryan. They hate each other. They've been enemies for years. Tommy fucked Aidan over years back and killed his only brother. You sound fucking insane!" His voice was rising in pitch and velocity as he darted back and forth across the room. Frankie just watched him, letting him take in her words. His feet stomped on the carpet as his eyes darted towards a small cabinet to his left. Something caught his eye and distracted him for a split second. It was a small metal hip flask and the sight of it made his heart pound against his chest, even louder. 
"Cillian, I heard them tonight. They're going to kill Tony and I'm afraid they're going to kill you too. You need to get out now while you can. Get away from all of this shit. It's too late for me but you can still go. You don't belong here, Cillian. Go and take Lucy and have a real fucking life!" Cillian stopped pacing and whipped his head around to face her. He looked furious and utterly confused. She's lying. She had to be or she just mis-heard that conversation. Aidan is like a father to me. He swore that I would get revenge on the man that murdered my father. When I first told him that we could use Frankie due to her connections with Tony, he was over the moon. No, this wasn't true. She's just fucking with my head, again. 
"No. I don't believe you. Why are you trying to fuck my head up, Frankie. You know I have to do this and there is no fucking way Aidan is involved in a secret fucking coup with his fucking enemy." He was standing over Frankie, then, his chest heaving and his throat burning. He was desperate to find any indication in her face that she was lying but he felt his heart sink when she saw the unyielding look in her eyes. 
"There's a shipment coming in tomorrow night. At the harbour. I haven't told Aidan yet, but I bet you any money in the world that he'll already know. He'll know because Tommy will have told him, Cillian." 
Cillian barked out a humourless, cold laugh as he inched towards her. His menacing presence must have looked unnerving but he was trying to intimidate her. He wanted her to feel scared, threatened, even, to come clean and admit that she's lying. But she never moved an inch. Cillian grabbed her face with his hands, applying a little too much pressure. Touching her like this, now, making her feel frightened was much harder than before. He found himself not wanting to hurt her. 
He dropped his voice as he squeezed the sides of her face. Her gaze and determination didn't falter and he knew then, she was telling the truth. He let her go and rushed to the front door, feeling like he was about to explode. "Cillian! Don't do it! If he finds out you know, who knows what he'll do! You said it yourself, he's getting sloppy and unpredictable. Cillian!"

Frankie screamed after him but he was already out the door. She ran after him but she knew it was no use. He was out for blood and she found herself uncharacteristically frightened for his safety, never mind her own. If Cillian tells Aidan that she was the one who told him then she would no doubt be dead by the morning. Unless Aidan doesn't care that Cillian knows the truth? She laughed at herself for being so naïve. 
The tears had come again and she felt the exhaustion and trauma of tonight's events take hold of her. Her knees hit the floor as heart-breaking sobs filled the air. She dragged herself over to the phone and picked up the receiver. There was only one voice she wanted to hear. One voice that might make her feel better and remember why she was doing all of this. She fumbled in the small drawer underneath the side table and dug out the piece of paper. She had the number a while now but wanted to give him space, knowing that he must hate her but right now, none of that mattered. 
She dialled the number, ignorant of the un-Godly hour and waited for him to pick up. His voice was raspy and riddled with sleep but as soon as she heard it, she felt herself lighten automatically. Years of grief, guilt and shame engulfed her as she sobbed down the phone. "It's me, Michael. I need to see you, please."