Boston Blood

Fifty

Frankie couldn't breathe. She couldn't move or think. 
She stood at the booth staring at Michael and could hear her heart pounding in her ears. She felt her stomach flip and churn and knew Linda must be looking at her like she was crazy. Linda was seeing her brother. Her brother, Michael who she had just found out, was a fucking cop. He was a cop but was working with Tony Russo. She had to grip the cheap leather fabric of Michael's booth to stop herself from falling onto the white and black tiled floor. 
"Frankie?" 
Linda's voice sounded like it was coming from under water. Frankie could only shake her head as she grabbed her phone from Linda's outstretched hand and sprinted out of the diner. She crashed into a middle aged man on the sidewalk and tumbled to the ground, hitting her head hard. The man tried to apologize and help her up but she wasn't listening and could only feel a dull, numb pain, stabbing her forehead. She took off her heels and ran as fast as she could. To where, she had no idea. 
She couldn't process it. How the fuck could this be happening? Michael was a cop? He must be crooked. Her baby brother, a crooked scumbag cop. Just another rat under Antonio Russo's thumb. She stopped running in order to stop the vomit spewing out from her throbbing chest. Then the panic hit her. What has he been reporting to his boss? Has Michael given her name? Were the cops about haul her stupid fucking ass in any minute and out her away for life? All this time, the only reason she had agreed to this stupid fucking deal in the first place was to protect her brother. She was afraid for his life. She wanted to protect him and had put her own life on the life in order to do so. She felt like a fool and now the tears were streaming down her face as nervous pedestrians shot her worried and scared looks as she hurried down the busy Boston street barefoot and sobbing. 
She kept looking back to make sure Michael wasn't following her. How the fuck was she going to explain this to Linda? The one person she thought she was becoming close with. And Michael? How was he going to deal with her knowing? If he was in Russo's pocket like she knew he was, she was going to be killed for sure. Michael couldn't have her running around knowing the truth. Another harsh and terrifying thought hit her like a tonne of bricks. If Michael is a cop, does he know she's also working for O'Shea? Is he going to tell him?
Frankie stopped and leaned over with her hands on her knees, desperately willing her lungs to work. She vaguely heard an elderly woman ask if she was okay but Frankie waved her off and took off again. The sun was starting to set and all she wanted to do was keep running. Everything was finished. She was finished. If she was right and Aidan knew what she had done and when Michael inevitably catches her, she was dead. This was it. This was how it ended for her. 
Her legs couldn't take her any further and she felt them give out. She slumped down against a shop window and tried to focus her blurry, tear drenched eyes. She jumped when she heard her phone ringing in her trembling hands. No name, but she recognized the number. Michael.
She threw the phone to the ground and used her over priced Italian high heel to smash the hunk of metal into pieces. A man standing outside the store stared at her, his eyebrow raised. "You okay, sweetheart?" He looked like a user and she immediately felt a strange sense of euphoria engulf her as she peeled herself up into a standing position and approached the man. She felt like she was already high and couldn't stop herself. "Yeah, just hurting really bad. You selling?" 
The man smiled a toothless grin and pulled a small bag from his back pocket. "Oxy?" Frankie smiled and handed the man a fifty and he slipped a few pills. "Thanks," she mumbled and shuffled by the man.
She let her eyes rise and was suddenly aware of a flashing neon light just down a few feet from the man's head. She closed her eyes and felt a wry smile grace her face. She had somehow found herself outside Bill's. She had ran 37 blocks without having any idea where her legs were taking her. She opened the door but the usual comfort and safety she had always felt when she stepped inside this place never came. It felt cold and strange and lonely. Colin and Marie were behind the bar and they looked visibly shocked when they locked eyes on Frankie. The bar had just opened and there were only two regulars in.
Frankie slowly walked towards them as their worried eyes darted between hers and each other's. "Frankie, are you okay? What's going on?" Frankie ignored Marie, walking behind the bar and grabbing a bottle of whiskey from the top shelf. "Frankie, what the fuck are you doing, give me the fucking bottle." Colin had reach for her hands but she shot him a glance that silently warned him to back the fuck off. "Frankie, don't do this. You're doing so well. I-," 
"You what, Colin? What? You're gonna pretend now like you give a shit about me? You never have and you never will and d'ya know what? I don't blame you one bit. You're gonna get what you wanted. The bar is yours Colin. I'm done. I'm done with all of this." Frankie raised her free arm to gesture towards the bar she had called home for the past eleven years. She felt tears prick her eyes but they weren't tears of sadness. They were tears of anger and shame. Colin's mouth was gaping and he stared at Frankie with utter bewilderment. "Frankie, stop. This self-destructive bullshit you've got going on is getting boring. You're doing a good job here. I's sorry I was such a dick before. I was angry and I've made a lot of mistakes but I'm trying to do better. Seeing you get clean actually gave me the courage to start getting my shit together. I'm three weeks sober, Frankie and I know you don't want to do this." 
Frankie smiled, humourlessly as she yelled at the two men sitting at the bar to go home. "Frankie, we just open-," 
"Get out, everyone. We're closed!" The fury and harshness of Frankie's tone didn't elicit a response or argument from anyone. The men grunted as they downed their pints and shuffled out the door. Marie looked at Colin, silently begging him to do something but Frankie grabbed her elbow. "Marie, go home." Marie nodded and grabbed her coat from the stand. She stopped at the door and turned back to Frankie and whispered; "Just be careful, Frankie. Please," then she left. 
Frankie unscrewed the top off the bottle and sniffed the brown liquid. Colin hadn't moved a muscle. 
"Colin, I'm warning you. Get the fuck out." 
Colin sighed in defeat and walked out from behind the bar. "Frankie, I don't know what's happened but this isn't the way to fix it. You should call dad. He's been so worried about you. He says you haven't returned any of his calls and the last time I spoke to him I told him you're not doing too well. I know you feel overwhelmed right now but do you not think going to a meeting might be a good idea?" 
Frankie scoffed as she took a glass off the shelf and gripped the bar with both hands. "Get out, Colin."
Colin's face twitched and he looked like he was going to say something but he just lowered his head and left the bar. Frankie grabbed the bottle and walked over to the door after him and locked it. She pulled down the blinds and switched off the lights and slumped down to sit on the floor. She felt like she should be crying, screaming, vomiting, again but in that moment she just felt numb.
She swirled a pill around in her sweaty palm and closed her eyes. She pressed it to her lips and could taste and smell the chalk. Her hand was oddly steady, as well as her heart beat. "Fuck it," She whispered but a bang on the door behind her made her leap and she found herself dropping to the floor like someone had just fired a gun. 
"Frankie, it's me. Frankie if you're in there, please open the door. We need to talk."
It was Michael and the calmness Frankie had been momentarily basking in was violently ripped from her. She knew he couldn't see her. The place looked deserted but she was terrified that he would break the door down. She scurried over on all fours behind the bar and carefully grabbed one of the Red Sox bats that were hanging on the wall. The trembling had returned and she found it difficult to hold the bat steady. She knew this was pointless. Michael had a gun and was twice her size. If he got in, there was nothing she could do to stop him, but she wasn't going to go down without a fight. 
She tiptoed over to the door and stood behind it, trying to stifle the fast, petrified breaths that were escaping her throat. After a few minutes, the banging and shouting stopped. She stood there for a while, terrified to move but she knew he was gone. She sat in a small chair beside the door, clinging to the bat for dear life. It was almost pitch black in the bar, but the tiny white pill lying on the floor beneath her shone like a beautiful star. She bent down and picked it up, placing it on the table in front of her. 
She sat there for hours, just staring and letting the dark thoughts take over. She wanted to take it. In fact, she wanted to end it all, right here, right now but she couldn't do that to Bill. Not here. She went over everything in her mind, cursing herself for being so stupid. Her mind drifted to Cillian and she couldn't understand the sudden wave of sadness that washed over her. So much had changed in a few hours. Earlier, she was desperate to warn him that something was going to happen tonight. She was actually worried for him. But now? All she could think about was that if her baby brother could lie to her then she knew she couldn't trust anyone. She knew that they might all be killed tonight at the harbour and that she would never see Cillian or her brother again. She should be happy about that, but all she felt was utter sadness and confusion. Tony had something planned with the Mexicans tonight but she had no idea what. She stupidly smashed her phone and now had nonway of contacting anyone to warn them. She still felt like he should warn someone. She hated them all but still, she didn't want any more blood on her hands. 
She cried, again. Hot angry tears but once again, the sound of aggressive pounding on the front door made her heart stop. She crawled out of sight, clutching the baseball bat with little strength she had left. The voice was calculated and almost sweet as it seeped through the thin glass of the pub door. 
"Frances, I know you're in there. Open the door or I'll burn this fucking place to to ground."
She froze at Tony's velvety, oddly cheerful voice and could feel her blood drain from her face. He tried the handle again and punched the glass causing it to shatter. Franlie stifled a scream and stood up, ready to strike. 
His shadow was menacing as he stood there, waiting. 
"Oh, Frances. Come on. You know there's no wait out of this. I've won, like I always do. And you? You're going going pay for what you've done to me."
Her silence was enough to give him almost visible satisfaction,  even in the dark. "That's right, Frances. I know what you've done and I know what you have. Tell me where it is and I promise I'll leave Michael and Bill out of this. Open the door." 
Frankie's throat was closing up and she she had to hold onto a chair to stop from falling. He knows. How the fuck does he know?
He was right. There was nothing she could do to stop him. It had finally caught up to her and now she was going to die. 
She dropped the bat and turned to face the door. She surprised herself when she let her steady hands unlock the bolt and slowly opened it.
Tony smiled and stepped into the pitch black and the next thing she felt was the barrel of a gun being shoved into her mouth. 
He pushed her against the wall and slammed the door shut, completely shattering the glass and sprinkling it all over the floor. 
"Frances, I've underestimated you. Not many people get the better of me and obviously none of the are still alive today to say otherwise. I thought you were weak, timid but I was wrong."
He pushed the gun further into her gaping mouth causing it to crash against her molars before he roved it just even for her to answer him.
"Who told you?" She whispered, glaring at his black, terrifying eyes. 
Tony looked surprised by her response but then he smiled a dazzling pearly white smile. "It seems you weren't the only fucking rat I've had working for me. I know everything, Frankie. My suspicions were confirmed earlier this evening when Kevin very rudely interrupted us earlier. When we finished out meeting about the plan for tonight, he saw my dear wife after our encounter, I spotted a look on his face that was undeniable. He's fucking Alex." 
Frankie raised an eyebrow and smirked, eliciting a growl from Tony which resulted then, in a teeth shattering slap which seemed to connect with her entire head. She somehow held her ground and kept eye contact with him, which made Tony's cool demeanour falter ever so slightly. 
"What did you expect, Tony? No one could ever love you."
Another slap, harder this time and this time it sent her to her knees. 
Tony grabbed her chin in his huge hand and squeezed her face, forcing her to look at him. 
"You knew? You fucking rat bitch." 
He hit Frankie with the barrel of the gun and everything went fuzzy. Her head hit the floor and her eyes couldn't focus. The loud ringing reverberating around her head was deafening. 
"Anyway, after most of the crew left for the harbour, I asked Kevin and Alex to stay" Tony continued as he stepped over frankie and made his way to the bar, pouring himself a drink. 
"When I made the discovery about the two of them,  I lost my temper. I was going to kill them there and then but Kevin bargained with me, in return for their lives. It seems both he and Alex had been plotting against and had done some digging about the night of the fire. He told me that the cop overseeing the investigation, the cop who was on my payroll, mind you, kept a vital piece of information from me about that night. A vital piece that I have only just discovered. He told Kevin that when the forensic team swept the restaurant after the fire, it seemed that not everything had turned to Ash. He told Kevin that the room in the back of office was empty. That someone had cleared it out before starting the fire. Millions of dollars, lists of names of great importance to me, keys to security boxes, jewels and information on people who can bring me down were not lost. Someone took them all of it before lighting the place up." 
Frankie pulled herself up and stood on unsteady feet to face him. He downed a glass of vodka and wiped his chin before walking over to her in what seed like slow motion. He pressed the gun against her forehead and sighed.
"I can't believe a fucking useless piece of shit, just keep like you could do something like this. I am mortified, if truth be told. And when you came running back to me asking for a job, I thought it was because you missed me. That you realised how worthless your life is without me. And it turned out you've been playing me all along. Working with Aidan O'Shea? Your father? All fucking rats, every single one of you. The only honest one is young Michael. Shames, he could have gone far. I've known for quite some time that O'Shea and Donovan have been planning to intercept what I have coming in tonight.  Millions of dollars worth of merchandise which they think will give them some leverage, right? Like they think stealing from me will make them more powerful and have the run of Boston once more? Fools, every last one of them. Everything I need, I've ever needed is in your hands, so to speak."  
Tony didn't miss the fact that Frankie visibly grimaced when he mentioned Michael's name. He took a step closer but didn't speak. 
"Now, I know you have what I want. Tell me where it is and I'll let your brother live. I'll even let Bill and Mary down in Florida continue their sad little lives. But if you don't tell me. I'll gut every last one of them."
Frankie stayed silent for a minute. She knew she had no choice. She had to save them. She sighed as she walked by Tony and into the back office. She opened the desk door and filed around for a moment. Then she reappeared, holding up a small box. She threw it to Tony  and he caught it, grinning like a child. He opened the box and pulled out it's contents. 
It contained a key and a sheet of paper with an address. 
"It's at a storage facility on Long Island. Everything is there." Frankie spat but she knew her voice was ripe with shame and defeat. 
"Thank you, Frances. You did the right thing. You know, I'm curious as to why you did it. You didn't spend any of it, right? So why bother stealing from me?" 
Tony started to circle her as he toyed with his gun and Frankie tried to prepare herself as she came to terms with the fact that she was about to die. 
"I guess I just wanted to try to do something good. I thought that if I took away your business that I would be helping someone. Anyone. That it was small way of trying to make amends for what I've done."
Tony almost looked touched but only for a split second. 
He clicked his tongue and raised his gun for the last time before whispering; "fool." 
Then a shot rang out and Frankie slumped to the floor.

But so did Tony.
She lay there, trying to feel the pain she knew must be there but she couldn't feel it. Someone was shouting her name but she couldn't really hear it. 
He knelt beside her, shaking her shoulders at her to open her eyes. When she did, his icy blue ones were screaming just as loud as he was. "Frankie, please be okay, please!" 
He had tears in them and he let them fall down his cheeks. She groaned and reached to her shoulder, feeling the sticky dark liquid that was coating her skin. But it wasn't hers. "Cillian?" She whispered and he pulled into a bone crushing hug. 
"Frankie, I'm so sorry. I should have believed you. You were right about everything.  About Aidan and Tommy. You're in danger, Frankie. We need to leave. Now. They know. They know you have Tony's stuff and they won't stop until they get it." 
Frankie blinked in confusion. Her head was spinning and the ringing from the gunshots making her sick. Cillian placed his arm around her back and the other under her knees and he gently lifted her up. "Bridge! Bridge we need to go, now! Start the car!" He screamed into the darkness as he held Frankie tightly to his body and made his way to the back of the pub.