Page 2 of Keegan: The Murphy Family
“Aw shucks! Why’d you have to go and do that?” one of the men said, but he didn’t actually sound remorseful.
“Okay, let’s get out of here. Now!” another one commanded. And just as quickly as they’d come in, they left my father’s office.
I couldn’t move, I couldn’t even say a word. I wanted to push open the doors and go to dad, but it was like I was frozen. My limbs refused to work. I felt like maybe if I didn’t step out, if I didn’t actually see daddy’s body on the floor—then it wouldn’t be real.
I don’t know how long it was that I remained in the cupboard, till I heard the office door opening again.
“Keegan!” I screamed his name. I could see him standing at the door.
“Fallon, shit, Fallon!” he came running to the cupboard and helped me out, throwing his arms around me and holding me close to himself.
I knew he could see my father’s body on the ground, and he purposely kept me turned away from it. I was crying on his shoulders, there was a lot of tears. I just wanted to stay there, like that, I didn’t want to move.
Keegan stroked my hair, then he forced me to look up at him.
“Fallon, you have to go. Now. You have to leave Chicago,” he said.
3
Keegan
O’Leary was sitting on a plastic chair by the table that was assigned to us for the meeting. An old balding Irishman, his hair once used to be a bright red but whatever was left of it, was now white.
“What are you doing here? Something happened with the parole hearing?” I asked.
O’Leary smiled and shook his head.
“Typical. Why are you always expecting bad news, son?” he asked. I shrugged. My hands were wedged between my legs, my wrists were pressed together by the handcuffs. I sat staring at O’Leary, waiting for him to spit it out.
“What is it then?” I asked.
O’Leary looked over his shoulders and then leaned in closer to me conspiratorially.
“You don’t have to whisper, man. Nobody is listening in on our conversation, and even if they are; nothing goes out of this room.”
I was certain of my standing in the prison. Nobody was going to mess with a Murphy man.
O’Leary fixed his tie and nodded.
“Okay, I have some information for you. Regarding the little side project you assigned me,” he finally said.
Hearing those words made my muscles stiffen. He had all my attention. I was sitting up straight and staring at him.
“The girl. Fallon Donovan, I got a hit on her,” he continued.
The thing was that I wasn’t trying to find Fallon. In the past ten years since she left Chicago, I had made a decision never to go looking for her. She was better off away from here, away from all this—and that included me. I was sure that wherever she was, she was going to make it. The one thing I knew about Fallon was she was strong, and completely capable of handling herself. So, I wasn’t worried for her well-being.
What I didn’t want, was for her to come back to Chicago.
That was the little task I’d put O’Leary and his contacts to. They had their instructions. Keep an eye out for Fallon, and the moment she enters Chicago—report to me.
“Where is she?” I growled at him now. She’d done the right thing all these years—by staying away. Why did she have to come back?
“She’s rented an apartment, working at Billy’s Diner,” O’Leary supplied.
I wanted to bang my fists on the table with anger and irritation. Not only was Fallon back in Chicago, she was living here?
“And you’re telling me this now? She had all the time in the world to get a job and rent a place, right under your big hairy nose?” I raged at him.
O’Leary looked nervous and apologetic and shook his head.
“We were doing our best to keep an eye out. Don’t know how she slipped through the cracks, Keegan. Anyway, we have her now,” he replied.
I sat back in my chair, glaring at him. I could see Fallon’s face in front of my eyes like it was yesterday, even though I was sure that was not what she looked like any longer.
That night, when I found her hiding in the cupboard of her father’s office, her face was deathly pale and her blue eyes were wide with fear. I had never seen her look so afraid. The only thing that ran through my head then, was that I needed to protect her. I needed to keep her safe.
While other fifteen year-olds were concentrating on school work and playing basketball; I had grown up in a world where I was learning to watch my back and make sure I didn’t get killed.
Yes, I was fifteen. In most people’s eyes, I would have been only a child—but even then, I knew exactly what to do. And to this day, I knew I had made the right decision. Fallon needed to leave Chicago. That was the only way to keep her safe.
Very soon, the cops were going to find her father’s body and they would discover that she was hiding in the cupboard. If the cops took Fallon in for questioning, the Gallaghers were going to kill her.
There was no doubt in my mind who was behind the shooting. They’d come to the office looking for information on our family. And they’d shot Michael Donovan. They wouldn’t hesitate to kill Fallon if they found out that she saw them make the kill. She was a potential threat to the Gallaghers, which meant her life was in serious danger.
Fallon had looked up at me with confusion in her eyes as I held her that night. There was no time to be wasted. She had to go.
“No, Keegan…I can’t go. Let’s go to your dad. Take me home with you,” she said, with her lips quivering. I had to stay strong. I wouldn’t have wanted anything more than to take her home, to hide her in my room if I had to—but that wasn’t going to keep her safe for very long.
“No, Fallon, you can’t come home with me. We can’t tell anyone what you saw. Not even my family, not even my father,” I told her.
She was confused and scared and shaking, and I didn’t know how to console her anymore. She had to go. I had to stay strong and make sure she left the city. Even though it felt like I was ripping my own heart out of my chest.
Fallon cried, and it was the first time I’d seen her crying. And then she told me she trusted me. I said I didn’t want to know where she was going to go. That would make it impossible for me to give her location away. And then she was gone.
“You want us to go speak to the lass?” O’Leary’s voice broke through my thoughts. I stared at him, blinking. I’d forgotten he was here. I’d forgotten where I even was.
“No. Just get me out of this place next week. I’m going to go speak to her myself,” I replied.
4
Fallon
It was a week later, and nothing about my new life in Chicago had changed. I was still working double shifts at the diner, still trying to re-acquaint myself with the neighborhoods…and still searching everywhere to see if I could catch a glimpse of Keegan, or anyone from the Murphy family.
I’d taken care not to rent in our old neighborhood. I didn’t know if I was prepared to get involved in that lifestyle again. If they did recognize me, that is.
But I couldn’t help but hope that I might see Keegan somewhere. It had been ten years. I had no idea what his life looked like anymore. There was a high probability that he was married, maybe he even had kids. Chances were that he wouldn’t want anything to do with me, if he did see and recognize me. Ten years was a long time to change people. Besides, we were just kids when we knew each other. None of those stolen glances or the teasing meant anything.
The diner was slow now. It was late afternoon and the lunch rush had just ended. Most of our customers were slowly leaving, and it would give us the chance to catch a breather before the evening again. Amelia, one of the girls I worked with, was chatting away to me—telling me some story about some guy she’d met over the weekend. I hadn’t been working at this place for long, but already it felt like I knew everything about Amelia.
She didn’t leave any detail out.
When I finally got a chanc
e to get in a word edgeways, I told her to cover for me while I took a break. The diner was fairly empty now, so it didn’t matter.
Untying my apron, I went out through the back kitchen doors and sat down on the bench at the end of the parking lot. It was a sunny enough spot.
After all these years of living in Nashville, I was still getting accustomed to the lack of sun in Chicago. I slipped the juice-box out of the pocket of my skirt and pierced it with a straw. These days, I barely even had an appetite. I’d been surviving on juice boxes and crackers for days…when I remembered to eat at all.
I sat there, thinking about Keegan again.
