Being a Gallgher isn't easy, especially not for Ian's twin Alyssa Gallagher who lives on the southside with her many sibling and alcoholic father who drops in and out whenever he pleases.
Then there's the emotionless asshole who Alyssa just can't s...
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When I arrive back home, there was a coffin in the living room. Frank was inside...pretending to be dead. He was dosed with horse tranquilliser and his suit was filled with ice.
I was quickly informed that two men were after Frank because he owed them 6 grand and couldn't pay it. So we were hosting a funeral so they would think Frank was dead and leave.
Honestly, I wasn't surprised.
As we waited for the men to show up, Fiona, Debbie and I forced ourselves to cry to make the whole situation more believable.
The tension raised when the men arrived. Two tall, broad, rough-looking men wandered into our living room. "Sorry for your loss," the slightly taller man said, approaching us surrounding the open coffin.
"It was a shock," Fiona sniffed, her lips downturned as she nodded. The tall one scanned his eyes over all of us, "I'm sure. Accident was it?" he probed. Lip inhaled, "Suicide," he lied. I faked a sob into Ian's shoulder, Debbie also cried louder.
He didn't buy it, the tall man sprinted towards the coffin and grabbed Frank by the collar, "I know you're faking it. Come on, open your eyes, you lying, squirrelly sack of shit!"
He then brought his hand up and slapped our father across the face, Debbie screamed. "Jesus Rob!" The smaller man had approached and was grabbing the other's shoulders attempting to pull him back.
"You're alive, I know it. Come on!"
The smaller man managed to push the other man away, "What's the matter with you? Look at him, he's dead!" We all stared at them with shocked expressions, I clung to my brother's arm, shaking as if I were scared.
We were pulling this off all right.
"Sorry, he's been under a lot of stress," he told us. The taller guy clenched his jaw glaring at us, "Gonna check with the boss. Nobody move."
As the smaller man pulls his cell phone out, Carl slips out from the group and out the back door. He was going to cause a distraction out front.
"Yeah, there's nothing here worth taking. Unless you want the little girl. She's 15, 16."
I gulp as my siblings stare at him. The man on the phone glances at me and I tighten my grip on Ian.
"Yeah, she's a looker. Redhead though..." He nods as he listens to his boss's reply. "How about Frank? Any toes, fingers, you know, for proof?" he nods again before putting his phone away.
"Okay. Keeps his extremities," He tells us. "And you'll be going?" Lip wondered the smaller man nodded, "Soon as he's in the ground."
Debbie gasped, "What? No, why?" she whipped her head around looking from the men to us. "Boss's orders. Stay with the scumbag till he's buried." I could tell we began to silently panic. Come on Carl.
