Night Hawks (The Broky Version)

[Brokenhearts]

im probably gonna have 2 do this in parts, coz its so long 4 wat it is, bt ye, this is mi version of the coarse work. (btw- shumgs, u aint seen this version)

Night Hawks
by Ajmina Meriel Khan

Evening fell on the darkening town. People were home. Safe from the dangers that befell them. Those evening roads were no place for the timid or cowardly. Even the brave were afraid to walk. Everything was still. Silent. Watching. Waiting. The air was thick with anticipation.
The closed in, claustrophobic streets bounced the tiniest sound, the smallest scuffle between it’s walls, playing with it as a child would a ball.
A street lamp flickered, casting dancing shadows on the rugged surfaces surrounding it.
A small creature ran out from behind a tin trash can, it’s little scrawny body stretched out. It stopped. It paused. Tense. Still as the coming night about it. A paw out-stretched, it’s long tail out straight, perfectly horizontal. It’s nose twitched. It’s ears flicked back and forth. It’s eyes were drawn up to a window on the tall building opposite. A soft screech was heard and it ran off into the darkness.
Nothing would be out that night. Nothing would dare.
Not when they prowled. Not when they were watching.
“I’ll be fine!” insisted a bold voice, clearly female, fluctuations of an irish back ground flitting through it. Her words rang off the walls with her insistence, “I know my way home.”
“Miss, you’ve just been harassed,” said a softly spoken man, “I am not letting a young lady, such as yourself, walk home alone at night.”
The woman laughed nervously. She knew the unspoken phrase avoided there. They all did. “It- it was a simple misun-”
“He scampered when he assumed I was your husband. Miss, I think we both know what he was after.”
Silence followed, interrupted with only the soft clip, clip, clip of the woman’s shoes, magnified by the surrounding walls. The softer foot steps of the man, however, were barely heard. He was obviously a man with understanding of the world he lived in. Keep quiet. Keep safe.
The noisy clipping of the woman’s high heeled stilettos stopped as she paused under the flickering light. Her fiery red hair seemed to glow, stronger and weaker with every flutter of the lamp. The skirt of her red dress fluttered about her legs in the slight breeze of the night. The bodice hugged the shape of her curvy body.
Her long wavy hair fell in front of her face, as she looked through her purse. Her thin, old, almost ragged shawl slipped from her shoulder, exposing milky white skin.
The man with her lingered in the shadows, just for a moment. Then he followed her into the dim circle of light.
“Looking for something, miss?” he asked casually, his voice deeply, softly spoken, musical, as though he could have been a singer. His accent showed he was clearly an American born and bred.
His trilby pulled low over his eyes, cast shadow over his handsome, strong face. Over his suit blazer was a heavy jacket, hiding any shape of his body beneath. His black, straight, formal suit was not even ruffled by the day’s events. Mystery shrouded the man, as easily as the dark did.
The woman looked at him, pushed her hair away from her face, the shawl falling away from her further. She caught it and pulled it more tightly around her. Her soft, pastel green eyes surveyed him closely, chosen emotions just peaking through them. Her face was finely drawn, and as slim as her light dancer’s build. Her full bottom lip, and slimmer upper lip were ruby and her cheeks rouged to almost the point of red. A very slim line of black encircled her eyes, only serving to make her light eyes stand out.
“Yeah,” she replied easily, “my keys. I’m just a lil worried…” she trailed off for a moment, clearly not wanting to state why she was worried.
“You’re cold, miss,” he stated suddenly, slipping off his jacket and putting it over the woman’s shoulders.
“Wha-” she started slightly, but the jacket was already around her, warming her up. The man simply stood back on the edge of the circle, smiling at her, his electric blue eyes watching her face. “Thanks,” she had to smile back, “and my name isn’t miss- it’s Sinéad.”
“Very well miss Sinéad, where is this… long lost diner?”
She sighed heavily. “I want to go home,” she said, “I’ll be fine from here!”
He shook his head and put an arm round her, leading her in the direction they had been going before she stopped. “You were insulted, abused and harassed. Just after an amazing performance-” Sinéad blushed, “I insist on at least getting you a coffee to calm your nerves.”
“Well then sir-”
He shuddered, “please, don’t call me sir. I told you-”
“Your name is Mark Johnson,” she chuckled, “I know…” her voice trailed off into the silence following her. The sound of her shoes dimmed into nothing.
Another soft screech sounded over head. A buzzing sound was heard, and the only working light on the street flicked out. The whole road was consumed in darkness.

Sinéad was, admittedly, a little disoriented by the amount of side streets that Mark Johnson had recommended she should take when he found out which diner she meant.
His words had been, “oh Phillies! Good place to eat. I know it- I know how to get there quickly.”
It was Mark who lead the way, keeping hold of her arm. His grip was gentle, yet he lead her decisively. He was a man of their world and knew of the consequences. That much was obvious to her, other than that she wondered about him; who he was, what he really was like. If he played hero often? He intrigued her. She felt like he was a new script, and it was up too her to find out more of his character.
She shook her head, trying to clear it. She found herself much too often trying to read people as though they were her scripts. She had done so even in the past, before she was even a proper actress.
The street that stretched before them was pitch black, and silent. Though she was incredibly hot beneath the warm, heavy coat, she shivered. It hadn’t always been so still and silent. There had been a time when the streets were as that of New York, never sleeping. Noisy and happy. Loud. Carefree.
It was safe to go out walking on your own, or with friends. It didn’t matter. There were lights that would lead your way. People were friendly, open and talkative. It didn’t matter whether you knew them or not, they were willing to help.
That all changed fifteen years before. In about a month, it all changed. The streets became quieter and quieter. No one could fix the lights when they broke. People gave each other shifty glances rather than smiles. No one spoke to one another. No one could be trusted. Even families suspected each other.
‘What a world to live in…’ Sinéad thought sadly, closing her eyes for a moment, picturing how things used to be. She missed it all.
“Miss,” Mark’s voice cut through her thoughts, “Miss! Sinéad!”
Her eyes fluttered open, blinking away the misty dreams from her eyes. The use of her name surprised her, but she smiled in return to him. He was looking intently into her eyes. Her smile faulted slightly as a blush rose to her cheeks.
“We’re here,” he said, looking away from her, eyes staring forewords.
Straight ahead of them was her favourite diner. It’s large open windows were one of the last of its kind in the city. Light spilled from behind the glass, illuminating the street in front of it. It seemed strange to see so much light for such a solid block, then for darkness to surround it. The black seemed to want to come and smother the cool brightness that pierced through it. Yet light held strong, not allowing the black to over come it.
Sinéad sighed deeply. She wished she could be as that light. Not allowing such terrible things to get to her strong spirit.
“Are you all right?”
For the second time Mark cut through her wandering thoughts. She nodded, staring straight at the diner, into it. Her eyes were slightly fuzzy from being used to to the pitch.
She allowed mark to lead her in, treating her as though she was a china doll that needed protecting. He lead her to a seat over the opposite side of the diner and helped her to her seat.
As she sat, Mark removed his coat from her shoulders, and put it over the back of her chair.
She cast him a small sad smile as she watched her trembling hands on the counter. She felt Mark move closer to her, taking hold of her hands, squeezing them reassuringly.
Before he could say anything, a shocked familiar voice struck through the surprisingly tense air about them.
“Eddie!”
Her head shot up, and she was met with the baby blue eyes of her close friend. His sweet, childish face was etched with worry about her. His white uniform was stained from his day’s work, and his white hat at an angle on his white blonde hair.
Theodore Smith had been her friend for the past seven years, and was one of her most closest friend she had. He was also incredibly loyal and trust worthy. He worked full time for his father business, the diner, which he would one day inherit. Though if that was what he really wanted or not was never something he made perfectly clear to her.
“Hi Theo,” she smiled at him, shakily.
Putting down the cup he had been cleaning, he came over towards the two of them, casting a worried glance at the man further away from them. The stranger was staring into his coffee cup, his hat covering his face, coat shrugged over his hunched body. No one could really make out his face or body shape.
Sinéad suspected he had been drunk when he first arrived, and was using coffee to over come it. Theodore would not usually like to throw people out of the diner, even drunks, as they made good business with the coffees they bought. But he would tend to keep a closer eye on them, as he seemed to be doing then. The stranger seemed to be docile enough.
“What happened?” he asked in a hushed whisper, “you’re pale-”
“Sweetie, I’m always pale,” she attempted a smile.
Then frowned at her. “Now’s not the time for jokes,” he insisted, “you’re shaking as well.”
“There was just a-”
“A man tried to take advantage of her,” interrupted Mark, looking directly at Theodore. He let a look slide towards her just for a moment, before meeting the younger man’s curious look.
“Eddie?” Theo’s kind voice was questioning.
“Don’t wanna-” mumbled Sinéad.
“He attempted to…” Mark interrupted, squeezing her hand again, reassuringly, “man handle her shall we say.”
Theo’s eyes widened in shock, then immediately frowned in anger. Although his face showed anger, his eyes showed utter concern for the well being of his friend as he looked from her back to Mark.
“I interrupted, by acting as her husband. He scampered after that.”
“After you laid him a knuckle sandwich,” murmured Sinéad, only audible to Mark. Who tried to hide a smile at the retort.
Theo shook his head, sighing angrily. “How many times have I told you to wait till some of your friends finish work as well!”
“I would have been late,” insisted Sinéad, “and I am now.” She started to get up, but Mark’s grip held her down.
“Where do you need to go?” he asked, kindly, looking up at her.
“Home, to Abby,” was all she replied.
“She’s ok,” said Theo suddenly, “Lauren dropped in on her just an hour ago. She just left here.”
Sinéad smiled at him and relaxed. “Good,” her face content. Lauren and Theo were the only two other people she trusted to help look after Abby. Lauren simply because she was Theo’s younger sister. She looked at Mark. “You gonna buy me that coffee now Mr. Johnson?” she teased.
Mark started laughing and nodded. “Two coffee’s Mr…” he trailed off, his questioning air asking the unworded question of ‘what’s your name?’ People seemed almost out of practise about asking such things.
“Theo Smith,” grinned Theo happily, reaching out his hand to take Mark’s, “thank you so much for looking after Eddie!”
Mark took Theo’s hand and shook it firmly. “No problem,” he replied, his friendly tone as firm as his grip, “I would have hated to see anything happen to such a pretty lady.” Sinéad blushed flaming red and busied herself with her purse again to hide the fact. “Mark Johnson, Mr. Smith.”
Theo laughed. “Please- it’s Theo-”
“Hey kid,” called a gruff voice, all three look up at the shadowed stranger, suddenly there was pin drop silence in the diner. The blush from Sinéad’s cheeks, paled to white. Mark’s eyes went from happy to narrowed at this new man. Theo looked simply surprised.
‘I know him,’ went though Sinéad’s mind, ‘I know him… I know that voice… where do I know that voice!’ She glanced at Then, he had no recognition in his eyes of any kind. That meant one of two things. Either this man was an audience member who had come to talk to her about her performance or an old… client. Any of them would be rather unnerving. Though the latter would shock her to the bone.
“Cany get meh sommer coffee,” his voice was deep, gravely. His words ran into each other, distorting them till they were not understandable. His thick voice had a light accent to his American english. Sinéad recognised it to be similar to her own fluctuations of irish.
“Yes sir,” agreed Then, after a moments pause, “right away sir.” He glanced at Sinéad, apology written throughout his expression and eyes. She just smiled back, hoping her face told him she did not mind waiting.
Theo turned away to turn on a large kettle, trying to gather his wits.
As Sinéad turned to talk to Mark, she could see that his eyes were lingering on the strange man. Her pastel green eyes slide over to him, trying to find out more about this man who she knew she had once known. Yet the stranger seemed to sense her eyes on him, and turned his face away, allowing his trilby to conceal his identity again. Before the poor woman could get a good look at him.
She frowned at him, and touched Mark’s shoulder lightly. He started under her touch and looked up at her, his electric blue eyes smiling again.
“Do you know him?” her voice came out in a whisper, though she did not mean it to. She swallowed hard to try and make herself feel calmer.
“Yes,” Mark replied, his voice was low, “it isn’t safe with him here. I think we’d better leave.”
“Ok,” her voice came out almost a shrill squeak.
Mark smiled tightly at her, her got up, helping her off her seat. He placed his jacket around her shoulders, and kissed her cheek lightly, whispering to her, “play along, he’ll pay less attention to a happy couple.”
Sinéad nodded curtly, allowing Mark to take hold of her hand, as they headed towards the door.
“We’ll come again soon, Theo,” called Mark, before leaving, smiling at him, all friendly manners and happy, “but we really must get back to Abby.”
Theo looked momentarily confused, but nodded. “See you soon Mr.- Mark,” he cut himself off, going along with an act he did not understand, “look after Eddie.”
“Of course,” Mark looked at Sinéad and kissed her cheek again.
Slipping entirely into her actress self, she giggled, and kissed his cheek in return. “Oh don’t be silly,” her voice was at least an octave higher than normal, and certainly much sillier, “you know I can look after my self.” Acting as an air head had never been her favourite role, but it seemed appropriate. “See you soon Theo,” she added in a twitter, wriggling her fingers at her long time friend, before pushing Mark out of the door.
Once out of the door, it took her a mere second to wrap her arms round his arm, remembering just in time the whole of the front of the diner was glass.
Mark smiled down at her, but she could see mocking in his eyes. She was tempted to stick her tongue out at him, but controlled herself and forced herself to laugh like the air head she was portraying.
As they walked past the diner, into another darkened street, Sinéad got the strangest feeling of being watched.
She often did, living in such a place made many people jumpy. But it had never felt so physical on her before. It was as though the eyes watching her were burning holes in her back. She paused as they re-entered the darkness beyond the light of the diner, and caste her curious glances around the area. Looking to see if she could see anything in the windows that adorned the buildings around them. As far as her eyes could see, there was nothing.
“Sinéad,” muttered Mark, she shook herself, knowing well what that tone meant, “we must go. It’s not safe now.”
“No…” she whispered to herself as they started to walk again, this time Mark kept an arm around her, as if to protect her, “it never is…”

[Brokenhearts]

Mark insisted on walking her to her flat. She could not deny him that, after finding out how forceful and persuasive he could be.
When they reached her door, she found herself sad that she and Mark would be parting. Over the few hours they had been together, he had saved her life, at least once, and made her feel safe. What was more was that he had made her laugh and feel light hearted at a time of night where she would normally be cowering and trying to get home as fast as possible.
“This is my stop,” she said, as she came to a halt.
“Oh… yes… of course…” he seemed almost as upset about her leaving as she did.
She smiled at him wanly, before walking towards the building where her flat was.
“Uh- Sinéad,” he started.
“Yeah?” she paused and turned around to face him.
“I never did buy you that coffee,” a smirk twitched a muscle in his face.
“No…” she replied slowly.
“So I would say I owe you one, wouldn’t you?”
Sinéad’s face was gradually covered by a half smile, with her eye brows raised. She put her hands on her hips, looking incredibly powerful. “Are you asking me on a date Mr. Johnson?”
“Why, yes, I believe I am,” he said, his smirk enlarging further, “what would you say- pick you up round three?”
She pretended to think about it for a moment. “Make it four,” she replied, “from the Pizzeria.” She turned round with her half smile still playing on her lips to him.
“It’s a date,” he called, she could almost heard the grin in his voice, she heard his foot steps pad away as she slipped her key in the first door of the building.
A grin burst forth on her face, and she almost ran up to her flat on the third floor. She pushed the key into the lock, and winced as the rusty hinges creaked. If Abby was asleep, she didn’t want to disturb the poor girl.
“Abby? Honey are you awake?” she called softly as she stepped in. There was no usually tapping in reply, or a crash, or even foot steps to register that the girl was awake. Sinéad sighed in relief and walked into the tiny flat.
It consisted of four rooms in total. Their living room and kitchen was one, separated only by a counter where they would prepare the food. Abby and Sinéad’s rooms were side by side, just as small as each other and both on the left the door where they would enter their humble home. The the right of their door was the small bathroom.
The only thing that Sinéad actually liked about their home, apart from the fact that the rent was low, was the view from the window straight opposite the door. It looked out across the whole city. Though the city at night was dark and foreboding, Sinéad could still dream about the times when she could look out a window and have to squint because of the bright lights that shone in. Even during the day a shadow seemed to loom over where they lived. But no matter what happened, Sinéad was a woman of dreams and could easily see the good and the beauty in things that seemed desolate and impossible.
It was how she had to live. How she survived. Stayed sane. Even when things got too tough.
She closed the door softly behind her and tiptoed over the mess that had accumulated during the day, over to the window. Her finger tips brushed the cold glass, her nose almost pressed against it, her breath condensing, blurring her vision outside.
“What a world to live in…” she whispered to herself. A single tear escaped her left eye and trailed down her face. Swallowing down a burning lump in her throat, she brushed away the tear and turned away from the dark, dank city she called home.

The next two months past slowly. Sinéad would often find herself bumping into Mark, not just on the few dates they had organised during that time. Both after work and during. She did find it rather odd, until he explained he was doing business in the area, and he thoroughly enjoyed Italian food. She didn’t press what he meant by business, men rarely thought a woman would understand what they were talking about when it came to such things. Instead she kept quiet and enjoyed his company, and his talkative, friendly nature.
When ever she came home, she would find herself talking none stop about him to Abby. When ever she realised she would blush and apologise over and over to Abby about it. The younger woman simply laughed, and hugged her friend, signing with her hands that she didn’t mind. That she liked to see Sinéad so happy.
Though this happy streak felt like a calm before the storm to Sinéad. Ever since the night Mark saved her, she had the feeling she was being followed. Being watched.
She would try to shake it off, why on Earth would they want her followed? She was a lowly part time actress full time waitress. How could she interest them. Even with those questions, she did not feel safe. Her mind would wander back to her family, if… if her older brothers had done something to upset them. If her sisters were in any trouble.
They were very well known to take out a whole family to make a point. Her family were very protective of one another, even those who had flown the nest, so to speak. She somehow doubted any of them had done something to upset them so.
She would have continued to think she was being paranoid if it had not been from a person in her past to resurface. Someone she would rather had never seen again.
It was a clear day, not a cloud in the beautiful blue sky. The sun a perfect circle of pure heat and giver of life. There was a very light breeze, but only enough to make sure the people would not over heat.
For the first time in years, the city felt free of it’s shackles. It was shown on the people’s faces, how they smiled at one another, how the children played, how the adults spoke to one another. A simple change in weather lifted the people’s spirits so high, it was no wander they felt so insecure when they took over.
Sinéad had had the day off, for working over time the week before, and insisted on taking Abby out. Though the girl could not talk, they still communicated very well. Sinéad always insisting on taking Abby out, even to small gatherings. She hated the idea of her best friend being left out.
“It’s so beautiful,” sung Sinéad happily, her arm linked with her friend, who nodded enthusiastically in return. Her breathy giggle was heard as she reached up to brush her fingers in the lower leaves.
Sinéad smiled at her. Abby was still childish in some respects, and for that she was admired. After they had stolen her capability of speech, anyone in the same position would have given up, and gone into a shell. Not even bother trying to talk. Abby instead, kept trying to talk, learned how to speak with her hands and no one could say she did not try to live as best she could having being put through such trauma.
There were times when she would wake up screaming, crying and sweating. It was times like that when Sinéad cursed them more than she would normally. Yet it was times like that when Abby seemed to almost be able to talk again. But that moment was snatched away again, when shadows of her past loomed in her mind.
Despite all of that, Abby was the most beautiful girl Sinéad knew. Her deep chocolate brown hair fell to her elbows, in soft curls. Her skin was dark, naturally, and would tan easily under almost any sun. Her wide eyes were brown with flecks of darker and lighter colours of brown and green. Her light build was bordering the point of skinny, she was not a very curvy girl. But her royally structured face meant she did not need curves. With her sweet smile playing about her small full mouth almost permanently, Sinéad could not think of a lovely person who’s inner beauty truly showed on the skin.
“Should we go down to the Pizzeria?” asked Sinéad, absently, attempting to sound casual, “just to see who’s about…?”
Abby’s light hearted chuckle and slight nudge was stopped short when a vaguely familiar voice, with an all too familiar accent cut through.
“You shouldn’.”
Pressing her lips together, and rounded on the stranger. As she opened her mouth to talk, it opened further in complete shock.
The man standing behind them was dressed in a thick jacket, despite the warmth of the weather about them. He wore the straight pants of a suit, but his shirt was ruffled and slightly torn. There was a blood stain on his torso, but he stood perfectly straight. His reddish brown hair was longish and fell into his eyes, as though he was hiding his pastel green eyes behind it.
Everything about him was the same. He still had a solid build, a deep, rough voice. He still kept the accent from their home country. He still had a powerful aura about him.
“Paddy?!” she hissed. She still half hoped she was wrong. That he was just some man who was playing a trick on her.
“Hey, sis,” he grinned half heartedly, then winced. That was when Sinéad caught sight of the black eye and slightly bloodied lip.
“What the hell are you doing?” she snapped at him glancing round, pulling Abby closer to her, a protective arm around her friend’s skinny frame.
“I need to talk ter yer,” he replied, seeming to understand the urgency of her voice. He looked up and down the path that ran through their only park. His eyes searching for something. “Not ‘ere. It’s too dangerous.”
Sinéad glanced at Abby’s wondering, interested face. At least she was not being terrified of Sinéad’s older brother. But that simply meant that it was not him who had been involved in Abby’s torture.
“I don’t want to talk to you,” she snapped at him angrily, “I thought I made that very clear to you.”
“Eddie please,” begged Paddy, desperately, looking round, “I know yer were angry-”
“I was?! I still am! You knew what I thought about the whole situation! About how this city is run! Yet you sti-”
“That’s what I have to talk to you about. Eddie please! If not for your sake, for Abby’s!”
Abby blinked in surprise and pointed at herself, head cocked to one side watching him closely. He nodded, sighing heavily. Absolute sadness etched into his features. Abby bit her bottom lip, and tugged on Sinéad’s hand.
The red head looked at her sharply, searching her face again for how she was feeling. Using her hands quickly to sign what she wanted to say, Abby glanced between Paddy and Sinéad.
Sinéad pursed her lips. Though just then she hated to admit it, Abby was much more sensitive to how people were than she was. If Abby thought he was trust worthy, she felt obligated to give him at least a chance.
“All right, fine,” she snapped angrily, “I’ll hear you out. Doesn’t mean I’ve forgiven you.”
Paddy shook his head, sighing. “I never ask yer to,” he muttered. “Just follow me. I’ll keep you safe. Yer just have ter trust me.” With that he started walking ahead of the other two girls. Fast.
“There’s no‘just‘ about it, Paddy,” snapped Sinéad, even if it was to herself. Saying something like that out loud seemed to help.
Abby gave the arm that she was holding onto a slight squeeze of reassurance. Sinéad was suddenly reminded of how Mark squeezed her hand when she had been scared in Phillies. She looked into the large brown and green eyes of her friend. She found comfort there, not just reassurance.
The day that had started out so beautiful and clear seemed to already darken, for Sinéad at least. A calm before the storm. How bad the storm would be was too scary for her to even consider it, especially with Paddy involved.
He lead them out of the park and down the main road. People seemed to avoid them. With Paddy’s hulking, now hunched over posture, black eye and bloodied lip, Sinéad doubted anyone would even look at him, let alone talk to him. She felt strangely content knowing that.
He led them across the street and down an alley. It was only when Sinéad peered down the alley did she stop. She did not like dark alleys and it was not high up on her list to follow her ‘led astray’ brother down one.
Abby tried to tug her down it, but she was obstinate.
“I can’t do it,” she muttered.
Paddy reappeared again. “I won’t hurt yer,” he promised, “I have my own bunch of outlaws down here. This is our street. We’re safe down ‘ere.”
“Out laws?” she asked.
He shook his head. “I’ll explain it all when we reach the head quarters.”
‘My my,’ considered Sinéad as she followed Paddy down the alley, her foot steps hesitant all the way down, ‘Paddy has been a busy boy.’
All the way down, Sinéad noticed a major difference. The alley was dark in only certain places, because of the washing that had been put out. No one put out their washing like that anymore, between houses. No one trusted each other enough. Women were out on door steps, chatting idly, while children ran up and down the street with out a care. People still smiled at each other down there. They were still friendly. It was as though that one street had been kept in a time lock, away from the fifteen years of being ‘looked after’ by them.
But why them? Why here? Who was looking after them? Did they even know this place existed?!
‘Probably not,’ reasoned Sinéad to herself, ‘how else have they lasted so long?’
Several minutes after entering the alley, Paddy stopped in front of a door and knocked three times. There was scuffling on the other side. Sinéad didn’t look around her surroundings as she would have wished to, instead she gazed down at the floor. A strange sense of dread filled her.
As she examined the dirty cobbles beneath her feet, she knew that Paddy would never physically hurt her. Their family was much too close for that. But what he was apart of scared her more than anything else.
“Eddie c’mon.” Sinéad looked up at him, studying his face. She had missed him. At the same time, she could not forgive him. Yet Abby, still took the hand he held out to the two of them, and followed him in, smiling.
Shaking, as best she could, the demons off her back, she too followed. Paddy would not harm her.
He lead them quickly through the musty house, bright with light and worryingly quiet. Sinéad didn’t have the time to look in the few rooms that they passed. She did not want to stay long, but that did not mean curiosity would not get the best of her.
The room Paddy lead them into seemed to be a kitchen of some kind. An old woman stood at the stove, opening a pot that let out a whoff of steam into her face.
“Hey there mother Bryan,” called Paddy cheerfully, as the woman replaced the lid, “how’s it coming?”
The woman gave Abby and Sinéad mistrustful looks as she sized them up with her eyes. Abby immediately became self conscious and automatically hid behind taller Sinéad. Sinéad on the other hand glared right back at the woman, taking a firm grip of Abby’s hand.
“It’ll be ready in a few hours,” she told Paddy curtly, “is this the sister yer’ve told me about?” she added, nodding towards the woman in question. The pastel green eyes of the red headed Sinéad seemed to be as fiery as her hair, with twice the heat.
“Aye,” he nodded, proudly, not looking at her.
The old woman sniffed, seemingly to disapprove. “She looks nothin’ like yer,” her voice was clipped and sharpened by life.
As Sinéad watched her closer, beyond the hardened wrinkled face and white silver hair, she saw the memories of a tired old woman. A woman who had once been a beauty in her time, and a woman who had seen far too much. The resentment fell away from Sinéad’s own face, instead interest took it’s place. This ‘mother Bryan’ was someone to respect, not one to scorn. The deep brown eyes met the soft pastel green and an understanding passed between the two generations.
A slight smile cracked on the woman’s face. “But she’s a good’un,” she added to Paddy. She nodded at Sinéad who smiled softly in return. “You keep an eye on my soup master O’Toole, Henry’s back. He doesn’t look so good.”
Paddy grimaced. “I told him not to go through with it.”
Mother Bryan chuckled sadly. “Aye, Paddy, that yer did. Since when has Henry been one ter listen ter orders, eh?”
Paddy shook his head. “I need to talk to ma sister, moth-”
“I know, lad,” she agreed, “I’ll keep the others away from ‘ere. Don’t you worry.” With that, she left and closed the door, enclosing the hot steam and scrumptious smell of the broth with them.
Silence engulfed them all, until Abby sat obstinately on the floor, frowning. She looked between brother and sister. The simple demand in her face and eyes was enough to tell them to get on with what ever Paddy had brought them there to do.

[Brokenhearts]

“What do you want, Paddy?” Sinéad sighed heavily, “you didn’t want anything to do with me after I left-”
“Yer left us, Eddie,” snapped Paddy, angrily. He sat heavily on the stool by the oven the soup was cooking on. His entire body winced with the effort he put into sitting down. “You left us-”
“When I found out you joined them!” she hissed at him, anger no longer hidden, “you joined them Paddy! You took their side!”
“They have a name,” retorted her brother, icily.
“Yeah. Night Hawks. Repressers. Scoundrels. Torturers!” she pointed defiantly at Abby. “Do you know why she can’t speak? Do you how long she had disappeared? AND FOR WHAT? Because-”
“Her sister was suspected of cheating on Mr. H’s son.” The bitterness in his voice rang clear and strong. “I know.”
“Of course you would… you’re one of them. I can’t believe you, Paddy. Even after all these- I still just… can’t believe you joined that. You’re one of them!”
Paddy shook his head heavily. “I’m not.”
“Yes you are! You do their dirty work! You keep us citizen’s in shape! You make sure we’re kept in line. I hate it here!” Paddy did not even try to stop her. This had been held against her heart for much too long. It was about time she took it out on someone. “We can’t talk to people any more. We can’t socialise until we’ve known the people for sometime! People have to- to prove themselves to each other! And that’s now become… normal. We shouldn’t have to live like this!” She turned away from him, hugging her slim, pale arms, around her curvy body. “And you help them.”
“Not any more,” muttered Paddy, only just audibly.
“What…?” Sinéad turned round to look at him. He was holding onto his torso as though he was in pain, his eyes were fixed on the wall off to his right. His vivid alive eyes suddenly misty with the memories evidently coarsing through his mind.
“Not any more… I left them. I told- I told them where they could shove it.” Sinéad’s mobile face turned from an anguished frown, to an expression of utmost confusion. “I couldn’ take it with ‘em any more. They got me ter do things for ‘em, Mr. H would threaten you, Eva, Sibhan and Martin. He’d even threaten Ma!” His large hand curled into a fist, even thinking about it. “But one day, a few months ago, they tried to get me to kill someone. An enemy of Mr. H. Someone who was rising up against the NightHawks. He’s gettin’ powerful to. I refused. I couldn’ kill a man in cold blood. I could not bring myself to. Instead, I warned him, and told him ter go under cover instead. He listened to me, thank God. And I got myself kicked out of the NightHawks.”
Sinéad started biting her lip. She hardly dared to believe it. Her big brother, the one who had joined the NightHawks originally to protect them, as he claimed, quit so he did not have to kill a man. That was the Paddy she knew. Not the thug that he had turned to under Mr. H’s orders.
“But… no one- no one leaves NightHawks alive…”
A small, soft, sad laugh echoed from his throat. He shook his head. “I know that. I’m not supposed to be alive. But I escaped ‘em, mother Bryan found me. Took me in, cared for me. The man who’s trying to raise a resistance against the NightHawks? He’s her nephew, he had apparently had his people look out for me. Now I’m on his side.”
“One gang to another. Paddy- why?”
“Because I joined the NightHawks.” Regret resonated through his voice. “I joined a gang and now I have to carry this on.” He looked up at his sister. “But at least I’m on the right side now.”
“How do you know?” whispered Sinéad, hardly daring to believe there was such an organisation, and she was in the middle of it. “Won’t he take power? What’s his name?”
“I don’t know his name,” admitted Paddy, “but it’s better that way. I can’t give up information even under torture that way. But this gang is known as Wolves.”
Abby tugged on Sinéad’s arm, and signed ‘fitting’ with her hands to her. Sinéad could not help but grin. She was right. Very fitting. But she was still worried. Gangs seemed to run the city, what if Wolves became just as power hungry as the NightHawks had?
“Is that what you came to tell me?” asked Sinéad, looking back at him.
“No… that’s not all. You see, NightHawks are still after me-”
“So go into hiding.”
“No, it’s not tha’. They don’t wanna kill me now. They wanna do worse. They’re after…” he took a deep breath, “yer have no idea of how hard this is for me ter say. They wanna hurt me real bad, and after they found ma weakness is ma family, they’re coming after you!”
Sinéad frowned. “Us, or me?”
Paddy swallowed hard. She knew the answer before he even opened his mouth. “You, because it’s you I worry about the most.”
“Bu- but… I’m an actress now. I don’t live like that any more!” She realised a fraction of a second too late that he would not understand what she meant. But when he carried on, he did not seem to understand what she had said.
Paddy shook his head. “I worry about yer, coz you’re the most free spirited. You’re more likely to try and take them head on.” He smiled at her. “That’s what keeps yer alive I know. But it’s what gets yer into trouble at the same time. They’re already come after yer.”
“I thought I was being watched,” she murmured to herself, “I didn’t know why-”
“Sinéad!” interrupted Paddy. Her head snapped up to meet his eyes, he barely ever called her Sinéad. Eddie had been her childhood nick name for everyone ever since she could remember. “Don’t you understand?” She shook her head, slowly, “it’s Mark!”
For Sinéad everything seemed to stop for a moment. Time had paused. She could only feel her heart thudding in her chest. “How do you know his name…” she whispered. Her body was numb from shock.
“Because he was my superior, and he’s Mr. H’s cousin’s son. Since Mark’s-” he spat the name out like it was a disgusting taste, not a name, “father died. Mr. H treated him like another son.”
“But… what… how…”
“I saw you two together, before, in the diner.”
“That was you?!”
“Yeah. I didn’t like what I was seein. I thought he had already got yer as a hostage because yer were acting so strangely. So I followed yer. To make sure you were all right. I half hoped it was completely innocent. But… once yer had left, I cornered him.” Paddy’s teeth ground together. “He couldn’t stop grinnin. He told me basically all of his plan, and didn’ mind that I knew it all. He didn’t seem to think th-”
“STOP IT!” screamed Sinéad covering her ears, “just… STOP IT!”
“But Eddie, you have ter un-”
“I understand enough!” she snapped at him. Glaring at him, she pulled Abby to her feet next to her, “you just can’t stand the idea of me being happy! Ever since I embarrassed you. In front of all you NightHawk friends!”
“I was a kid,” replied Paddy, trying to soothe her with his voice, “I don’t care about th-”
“SO WHY TELL ME THAT MARK IS BAD NEWS!”
“Because he is! Eddie, you’re my sister and I love you. I’d die if anything happened to you!”
She glared at him. “So die then. Too much has happened to me already.”
“What’s that supposed to mean? For the moment yer fine. I want to ke-”
“You don’t know do you,” she hissed at him, “you have no idea.”
“I don’t coz yer won’t tell me. Tell me, Eddie, I wannoo-”
“I WAS A PROSTITUTE!”
Silence engulfed the room again. Abby simply fidgeting, looking worriedly between the two powerful people. She, of course, knew. She had been the one to comfort Sinéad every night when she came back sobbing about how disgusting she felt, about how she could not go on. Yet, the next night she would go out, attract a sleazy, horny man, and come back home feeling rotten.
“You- what- Eddie- how- you…?” stammered Paddy, not knowing what to say.
“Yeah, that’s right. You’re darling little sister was a prostitute, living life in the illegal red sector. Getting screwed by any man who paid me enough. You have no idea how… how disgusting I felt! How disgusted I was with myself! I would cry myself to sleep at night. Trying to block out all memory of what I had done. What I had been paid to do.”
“But… Eddie… you’re a beautiful woman… you’re smart… surely you could have gotten a different job.”
Sinéad swallowed hard, pushing away the tears of shame that had built up in her eyes and just behind her voice box. “I couldn’t. They have made it almost impossible for a woman to get a well paid job. Prostitution barely kept me and Abby afloat. It’s only been in the past five years that I’ve gotten my job in acting and being a waitress. Even then, I have to put up with leers from old clients if they see me… if they recognise me…” She stared at her brother. “Only recently have things been going my way. I met Mark, and I thought ‘yeah… things are getting back on track…’ And yet here you are- telling me to keep away from him. Paddy- I- JUST LEAVE ME ALONE!”
Without a backwards glance, she pushed open the door, and ran through the corridor, onto the alley and back onto the street. A few moment’s later, she became aware that Abby was walking next to her, staring at the floor.
“You all right?” asked Sinéad, quietly, reaching out her hand to the younger woman, to link arms with her.
Using very small, ashamed signs, Abby told her that it was all her fault that Sinéad was crying.
Sinéad pushed away her tears and shook her head. “No, honey,” she whispered softly, “it’s Paddy’s. He always does this. Even when we were younger.”
‘You two used to be close,’ insisted Abby’s hands, ‘I could tell.’
“Once,” admitted Sinéad, “but then he joined them. Then he turned into a thug, beating people up who gave them a funny look. When he was younger, he was just a bully. As he got older… he became armed and more dangerous. The day I left, I had embarrassed him in front of his smaller gang. I was scared they’d come and get me. And I felt like a burden on my family.” She smiled slightly. “I always made sure I made them think I was doing well, sending them money as often as I could. I can do it more now.” She sighed heavily. “None of them know about… that time in my life. And I hope they never do.”
Abby pulled Sinéad to a stop and hugged her tightly in the middle of the street. She cupped her friend’s face for a moment and a grin spread slowly across her face. She took hold of her hand and pulled Sinéad down the sparsely populated street.
Sinéad started laughing. “Where the hell are we going?”
Pausing just for a moment, Abby tapped the side of her nose in the universal gesture of, ‘that’s for me to know and you to find out’. Sinéad grinned, and allowed herself to be pulled along by the smaller woman, ignoring the strange looks she was recieving from the rest of the population of the street.
Just then what the city thought of her did not matter at all to Sinéad.

[Brokenhearts]

Half an hour later, dusk settled about the city and the two women had reached their destination, their favourite diner, Phillies.
They sat in a corner, nursing their coffees and the few biscuits that Theo would slip them until the diner cleared out slightly. The dying, orange rays of the sun overhead was usually the sign for most of the customers to leave. Dark was never a good time to be out and about.
As the sun set over the city, giving the impression of a beautiful, peaceful place, Theo sat with his two friends, drinking coffee he had made himself.
Sinéad was surprisingly quiet as Abby and Theo teased each other. Watching them she felt so happy, she could have died then with a smile on her face. She did not care what Paddy had to say. He was a liar in her eyes, he simply had no room in his heart for forgiveness towards her. She was not even sure what part of what her brother had told her was truth or not.
“Hey, Eddie,” called Theo, waving his hand in front of her face, “you all right? You’re… being quiet. I’m getting worried.”
‘She didn’t have a nice meeting with her brother,’ signed Abby to him, her normally happy face, gathering a frown.
“Martin or Paddy?” surprise was clear from Theo’s face. He knew a lot about her back ground, her past life, but not the fact that Sinéad had been a prostitute.
“Paddy,” sighed Sinéad, “he… he just couldn’t let go of a grudge. Trying to make me miserable as usual.”
Theo reached out and squeezed her hand lightly for a moment. He had known her long enough to realise when there was a good time to leave her to her thoughts. “Coffee again girls?”
While Abby nodded enthusiastically, Sinéad shook her head and stood.
“I need a walk,” she told them, “I’ll just walk the block. I’ll be back in a moment.” She picked up her short jacket from behind her seat and headed towards the door, pulling it on.
“Should someone come with you?” called Theo, “Lauren’s upstairs, she could look after the diner and Abby.”
Under normal circumstances, Abby would have shot Theo a glare and maybe a sharp hit with the flat of her hand. Instead she nodded enthusiastically and Sinéad shook her head.
“It’s all right,” insisted Sinéad, “I’ve done the walk before without hassle. I sincerely doubt it’ll happen now.” Yet even as she stepped out into the cool evening air, she could not help but think ‘famous last words.’
Looking from her left and right, she felt eyes on her again. Shivering, she looked around the surrounding buildings with a critical eye, trying to find the source of that feeling, She still couldn’t see anything. Though recently, her gut feelings had always been correct, save the one about Paddy perhaps having forgiven her. She shivered again and turned down to her right, walking past the wide open glass window of ‘Phillies’.
As she walked into the wide, dark street, dread filled her. She knew somehow that this was wrong, that something was going to happen. The air around her was thick, closing in on her, waiting for it to take her. The storm had arrived.
“Eddie!” called a cheerful, very familiar voice from ahead of her.
She stopped dead. Mark Johnson. Suspicion from what her brother had told her arose in her mind. Pressing her lips together, she pushed those suspicions aside, and forced a smile to her face, as Mark reached her.
A charming smile lit up his face as he leaned forewords to kiss her cheek.
“What you doing here at such a dark time?” asked Mark, sounding surprised.
‘Dark time?!’ suspicions rose in her mind all over again, ‘no one calls it dark time… only NightHawks…’
“I uh… just needed a breath of fresh air,” she replied easily, leaning against the wall, feeling slightly light headed, “the diner felt a little stuffy.”
Mark looked at her, frowning. “Is there anything wrong?”
‘Why does he sound so… strict… angry…? Is Paddy right about him…?’ a million other questions streamed through her mind. “Yes actually,” she decided then and there to get to the bottom of it, Sinéad O’Toole was not a woman to keep her suspicions to herself. “Do you know a man called Patrick-”
“O’Toole,” finished Mark for her. His pleasant mask fell away. The smile that had originally been kindly was replaced by something uglier. Somehow he reminded her of a bird of prey who was about to pounce on its favourite meal. “I take it your brother has been in touch.”
“Yes, Johnson,” she spat, “he has.” ‘Paddy was right. Why didn’t I listen to him?! I’m too stubborn…’
“I’m surprised you didn’t figure it out for your self, he always told us you were smart.”
“I’m not smart enough to outwit a fox,” she snarled at him, standing straight, her hands flexing into fists if she had to use them.
“Oh that’s sweet, gorgeous,” he teased her maliciously, “only I’m a NightHawk.” In a smooth fluent movement, he had reached inside his jacket. Next thing Sinéad knew, she had the barrel of a gun pressed into her stomach, just below her ribs.
“I prefer foxes,” she hissed at him. She was going to die, she knew that much. “They’re more truthful.” He pushed the gun further into her body, pushing her back against the wall behind her. She winced as the felt the metal start to bruise her body.
“You know, Eddie,” he said her nick name as though it was an insult, “it’s almost a shame to have to kill you. You are a pretty little thing… useful in more than one way.”
“Don’t you dare,” she warned him, as he leaned in to kiss her. She spat into his face instead, moving her face away from him obstinately.
“The whore has pride,” he taunted.
There was a foreign clicking sound near by, and both Mark and Sinéad knew it was not from the gun pointed into Sinéad’s gut.
“The whore’s ma sister,” sneered a familiar voice from behind Mark.
From the barely visible light, she could only just make out Mark’s features contorted in fear. It was the one way she would remember him from then on. Terrified. The way she would ever want to remember.
“Hello, O’Toole,” muttered Mark, “just… talking to you sister.”
Paddy moved from behind Mark, to beside him, closer to Sinéad. “I noticed. I hope you’re not getting so excited to see her in front of her brother.” He indicated at the gun pointed at her.
“You knew this was going to happen,” Mark insisted, coldly.
“I know, and I warned her. Now I’m going ter stop you.”
Mark started chuckling. “Oh you might not want to do that.” He slowly removed the gun from Sinéad’s ribs, he knew he had been defeated for the moment. “You see… I could be useful to you… trade me in place for your delightful friend. Abby was it?”
“What…?” hissed Sinéad, in shock.
“Oh I remember her clearly,” he sneered at her. “Pretty girl. Strange eyes. Cute face. Nice-”
“Shoot him,” ordered Sinéad coldly.
“What?” came from both males.
“Sinéad,” started Mark, “you don’t want to do that do you?”
Paddy’s eyes simply flick from Mark to Sinéad and back again. He knew when to take his sister seriously and when she was joking. Her voice and face clearly showed she was deadly serious. “Are you sure you want me to?” he asked.
“Yes,” she murmured, “it was him who took her, I remember him now. He kidnapped her. It’s him who tortured her, it has to be. It was him who-”
“Oh yes,” agreed Paddy, coldly, “so it was…”
Without a second’s thought or glance, he shot Mark in the chest. The man stumbled back, staring at the flowering red on his clean suit. He fell to his knees staring up at them, shock filling his eyes and face.
A rage took hold of Sinéad as she grabbed the gun from Paddy and aimed it at Mark again.
‘This is for the world you helped create,’ she thought savagely, shooting him in the chest again, he stumbled backward slightly. ‘This is for what you put Abby through.’ Then shot him in the shoulder. He fell back onto the ground, his body convulsing in pain, blood staining his expensive suit, spilling and colouring the ground around him. “And this is for my own, sweet pleasure,” she snarled at him, standing above him, gun pointed directly at his head forehead. His eyes widened, his pupils dilated. A final single shot rang out.
Mark Johnson was dead.
Breathing heavily, she kicked the body over on its side, so she would not have to see his face and handed the gun back to Paddy.
“You’re heartless,” he stated, putting an arm round her.
“I’m vengeful,” she replied. It was then what he had said about Abby hit her. “Paddy,” she looked up at him, the fire that had taken over her body as she killed Mark was doused in a moment. She could see from her brother’s eyes he was thinking the same thing. “Phillies,” she stated hoarsely.
“Quickly,” he nodded.
Without another word they ran back to the diner as fast as they could. Hoping, praying they would not be too late.
Luck was not on their side that night.
The scene inside the diner was devastating. The tables and chairs were knocked over. Food and drink were strewn across the floor, just for the sake of it. One of the huge kettles was broken, the hot liquid now slowly dripping from out of it, the other was dented.
Theo was trying his hardest to stand up to two men in suits, his speech was clearly desperate. Both men wore expensive suits and trilby’s low over their eyes. One was armed with a gun in his right hand. With his left arm, he held Abby firmly by the neck, gun pointed at her head.
It was then that the unarmed man chose to look out the window. What he was checking for Sinéad would never find out, yet that was their undoing. He spotted the brother and sister almost immediately, and yelled at his partner to move it.
Everything after that happened too fast for Sinéad to recall in full.
Paddy ran into the diner, Sinéad was rooted to the spot. From where she stood, she saw Theo having to dive for cover and Paddy aiming a punch for the unarmed man. The stranger dodged the blow and skirted aside. That was when she noticed the second man remove the gun from Abby’s skull and aimed it at Paddy.
Though it still felt unreal, like a dream, a scream still ripped itself from Sinéad’s lungs for Paddy to look out. Without thinking again, she followed her brother’s path into the diner.
There was a sickening BANG.
She stopped just inside the diner doorway, just in time to see her brother collapse to the ground. Dead or alive, she could not tell. A sob caught in her throat.
A hand grabbed the back of her head, pulling her hair. But she could not feel it. She was numb again. The blood pounded in her ears. Over the thumping she just made out the man’s words as he pulled her towards the lifeless body of her brother:
“If you want to see your friend alive again, you will stay put- ya hear?”
With as much strength as she could muster, she pulled herself away from him and tore her eyes away from the wreckage of her favourite place to eat.
She surveyed the two men with incredible dignity and sat on the floor next to her brother, pulling his head onto her lap. “I hear,” she replied softly, “loud and clear.”
“Good,” he snarled at her. He glanced at his partner, and jerked his head to the side for them to get out.
From what Sinéad could see, Abby was sobbing.
“I’ll get you back Abby,” she called after her, “I SWEAR I’LL GET YOU BACK!”
By then, the NightHawk men had left. She and Theo were left with the wreckage they had created.
“Paddy?” whispered Sinéad softly, “are you alive?”
“Just,” he croaked in return, “get mother Bryan. She knows how to sort it out. They got my shoulder.”
“We’ll get you into a bed first, buddy,” Theo told him, coming closer, “my sister is a nurse, she can at least bind that for you.”
“Thanks,” Paddy’s voice was just above a whisper.
“You need rest,” murmured Sinéad, “you’ll never get better otherwise.”
“I know,” he muttered. Painfully he lifted his eyes to meet hers. “I’ll get her back. I promise I will.”
“No,” smiled Sinéad, “we will. We’ll get her back, and we’ll get rid of the NightHawks once and for all.” She looked at Theo, whose normally boyish face suddenly looked a lot older, “and this time, we won’t be stamped out.”
‘What a world to live in,’ Sinéad’s mind considered silently, as Theo nodded curtly and Paddy grunted in reply, ‘a world we’re better off without.’

THE END

[AshVersion2]

I tried reading it. I really did. Sorry, AJ . . .

[isilwen]

wow ... I'm speechless ... why'd it have to end?!

(several minutes later ...) I'm still semi-speechless ... that was great ... I couldn't stop reading until I'd finished. I feel like I just woke up from one of my semi-nightmarish dreams ...

[AshVersion2]

It's very Broky, I'll say that. At least, it's what I got from what I read. You know how there are some things that, no matter how hard you try, you just can't get into it? This was one of mine. The writing and imagery were great, yeah, but . . . gah, how annoying for us both.

[Deleted]

how much has changed since i originally read and edited parts? cause i aint readin all 15 pages agen

[isilwen]

I didn't get my homework done yet cause I was so drawn into the story ... not that it takes much for me to throw myself into a story, but I was yanked into this one and I couldn't free myself ... I'm finally recovered from that, though lol

[Brokenhearts]

well i cut it down frm 15 pgs… to 14… JST READ IT, i have taken alot of ur advice- shockingly.

heh heh, i think tht means she likes it thankies!!!!! cud i have improved it in any way?!

[isilwen]

some of the grammar had errors, but I don't have the time right now to go back and find it all ... perhaps later tonight I will have the time ...

in fact, I don't even have the time to write this, so I'm just going to leave it at that for now ...

[Emily]

Broky - I read the first section and liked it. The imagry was nice, and I liked the use of description but I'm really horribly afraid that I couldn't read all of it. I'm too tired

There are a few grammatical errors, but other than that, tis vrai bonne!

It's nice reading two versions lol

[AshVersion2]

Yep - same project, two completely different ideas, lol.