“So what’s wrong princess?” Murphy glanced over to me for a split second before looking at the road.
“Just have always had knee, ankle and back problems.”
“And why’s that?”
“Netball and horse riding. Netball fucked my knees and ankles; Horse riding, I got kicked in my lower back when I was younger and had problems ever since.”
He pulled up to the house and slid across the bonnet of the car, once again, and I was getting out when he swooped me into his arms, “Ya know… You’re extremely light.” He stated. I smiled at him showing that I appreciated the compliment of being thin and for him carrying me.
“I’ll be fine” I said “as soon as I strap my knee” so that the bones were in the correct places (Had to do this before).
My smile dropped almost instantly when I heard, “What the fuck happened here?”
“Well funnyman!” I snapped, “Unlike you! I ain’t a fucking pussy and had to have a shoot-out with the Irish! Hence the fucking broken gate and the bullet holes in the wall. Amadán”
Murphy started laughing, “Aye, he is an idiot baby.” If you didn’t already gather what “Amadán” meant… it means idiot… I nodded and he kicked the door open and carried me upstairs and gently put me on the bed. “So… what will ya need?” he knew I was going to fix this myself.
“Go into my bathroom in the cabinet at the very top there is a white rolled up tape and a brown one bring both of those and…” I pushed my knee from side to side and hissed in pain, “The green tape along with the spray at the top.” He nodded and was soon out carrying all the crap, I opened the draw on my bedside table and got the scissors out. Once my knee was strapped, I scooted close to the edge of the bed and Murphy stood near me so I could support myself on him if I needed to. I stood up slowly and my knee was sore still but a lot better, I got my knee guard from my cupboard and put it on, my ankle just needed to be clicked and popped into place, no strapping needed. I walked downstairs to see my men pointing guns at Conner and Funny man.
“BOYS!” I bellowed. Everyone turned to look at me, I quickly glanced at Conner and Funny man, their guns weren’t drawn.
“Boss.” One said and the rest all nodded in my direction.
“Care to explain what the FUCK is going on here?” I cocked my hip to one side with my hand on that hip.
“We thought they were trespassers.” Aaron said in Swedish.
“Well everyone put your guns away!” I commanded in Swedish, they all nodded and put them away, except Harald.
“Harald. Gun. Down. NOW!” he looked at me with anger but listened. Again this was in Swedish. “These people are guests. And we don’t treat our guests like that.” I said in a sugary sweet tone. “Actually where the fuck were you guys the first time they were in my house this is like the seventh day the one’s with decent haircuts have been here.” Again in Swedish.
“wait, you don’t like the one with ugly hair?” Harald asked putting his hand on his gun. He spoke in Swedish.
“No, I don’t but he’s mates with the other two so I’ll deal with him for now… but I’m thinking he’ll be killed soon, he’s reckless and annoying and we all know what my actions are like when I’m annoyed.” I replied in Swedish. Everyone laughed and nodded, they started leaving. “MEETING AT 10 TOMORROW MORNING!” I yelled after them, again in Swedish. They all mumbled something like okay or see you there, or okay.
“I just saved your life Conner.” I said, but I forgot to change my dialect to English so he gave me a rather confused look.
“Wha’ the fuck are ya smoking Blair?”
YOU ARE READING
The Saints and the sinister "Angel" (BDS/ Murphy Macmanus)
FanfictionBlair Berg is part of the Swedish mob because of her father being the boss. After a long trip back from a field job in Russia, Blair is asked to attend a meeting that is important to the mob. However, the meeting doesn't go as planned because of two...
