Boston Blood

Sixty one

"You ready?"

Frankie nodded and took an unsteady, heavy breath. Go down swinging, right?

"Ready."

Frankie pushed open the door, accepting what ever was about to happen. She had to save Lucy and put an end to thus shit. She couldn't let anyone else get hurt. As afraid as she was that something would happen to Bridget, she felt thankful that she was by her side. Frankie knew she was going to die but she was glad that she wouldn't be alone but if she was being honest, she wished it was Cillian who was standing with her.

Bridget nodded as both women stepped into the apartment, guns raised in unsteady hands. It was empty. Bridget kept her gun raised and stormed through the apartment in anger, while Frankie dropped her head in defeat.

"Where is he? Where the fuck is he? You said he'd be here! You said Lucy would be here? Where the fuck is he, Frankie?" Bridget's eyes were swimming in pools of furious threatening tears but she didn't have time to let them fall. They stared at each other when the sound of heavy footsteps filtered down the hall.

Frankie raised her gun again in her trembling hands as Bridget signalled for her to stand by the door. The footsteps were getting closer and Frankie closed her eyes, waiting.

He burst through the door and fell to his knees, blood dripping down his face from an brutal assault he'd clearly just been victim to. Frankie gasped and blinked in confusion and horror while she dropped her gun and raced over to his side. "Bill? What are you doing here? Who did this to you? You idiot! I told you to stay away! Why are you here Bill? You're in danger. You need to leave, now!" She hugged him so tightly as she battled her conflicting emotions. She was both so glad to see him and utterly, utterly terrified. "Frankie, he's right behind me. You need to get out of here, Frankie. Go! I'll be fine. Just get yourselves out, now!" Bill was rambling but suddenly stopped and grabbed Frankie's hand. "It's too late. He's here." Frankie tried to get him to calm down and was holding his head to stop the bleeding. "Bill, who's right behind you? What happe-," her sentence was cut short when she was being pulled to her feet by a stunned Bridget who was using her free hand to point at the man that had just appeared at the door. Gun in hand, with a silencer menacingly attached to the end of the barrel.

"Damien?"

Bridget shook her head, trying to work out what the fuck was happening. "Y-, you were dead! At the harbour, you were on the ground, not moving. What are you doing here? Did you do this to Bill? Where's Aidan and Cillian? Tommy has Lucy, Damien. We need to find her before it's too late!" Bridget's voice was so rushed that it was hard to understand all the words spewing out of her mouth and Frankie's heart stopped when she realised Bridget hadn't spotted the sly grin that was gracing Damien's sweaty face. Oh my God. Frankie's eyes shot, cautiously, between Bridget's and Damien's while she carefully tried to feel for the gun by her knees. She felt Bill's grip tighten around her arm but she was afraid to pull her eyes away from a now, laughing, Damien.

He slowly opened his jacket and winked when they saw his bullet proof vest. Bridget chuckled once and let her gun fall to her side. Frankie was screaming at her, inwardly, for her to keep her gun up. Something was off, she could feel it in the way Damien's smirk grew wider and increasingly sinister. Then it hit her. She rose to her feet, unarmed and oddly, brave.

"You fucking son of a bitch. You've known all along, haven't you? You've been in on this the whole fucking time. You fucking rat prick!" Frankie spat at Damien's feet as he threw his head back and laughed, gleefully. Bridget's eyes went wide and she shook her head. "No, Frankie. You've got it all wrong. Damien is one of us. I've known him for years. He didn't know the truth about Aidan and Tommy." Bridget tried to voice her refusal to believe it but Frankie had heard the doubt creep into her voice.