pain is familiar || CONNOR

[ELI LILLIAN BRYNE]

She had just finished an assignment and she had to say she was happy that it had gone so well. The man had gone down without a hitch, without a hiccup. She had sniped him easily, effortlessly and she knew that her client would be contacting her again. Eli left no traces behind. She cleaned her area with bleach and rubbing alcohol, making sure that no fibers of any kind were left behind. Her blonde hair was pulled up and shoved into a hat so that no random pieces would fall out, and her hands were covered with black leather gloves. Her clothes were of the simple variety, so if a thread did indeed fall off, the authorities would have a ton of fun searching for any one who shopped at Walmart. Eli was excellent at what she did, and she prided herself in never getting caught. She never even left a trail. Smiling after her shot was made, she saw the men scrambling, saw them trying to figure out what had just happened to their colleague. She had spent months researching that man. She had spent months learning his schedule, tapping his phones, doing the required steps that it would take to successfully kill him. When she had been satisfied with the amount of information , she had made her move. And she was more than happy that it was over.

Eli didn't mind the assignments. She even enjoyed killing people now when she hadn't before. Killing someone allowed her to take her anger and frustration out. It allowed her to imagine each time that she was killing the one man whom she hated the most in her life. Connor Selwyn. She wanted him dead. She wanted him to feel the pain and the suffering that she had gone through. He would never feel the total devastation that she had felt either because he would never know what he had truly costed her. Sighing softly to herself as she exited the warehouse building, her free hand moved to gently touch her empty belly. Staring at her flat stomach beneath her black tank top, she remembered when she had been showing. It hadn't been much because she was only a few months in, but if you looked close enough you could see the tiny baby bump. It had brought her great joy then, but now it filled her with a sense of hollowness. She didn't want to be remember the baby. She didn't want to remember the endless torture sessions and the forced sex. Shutting her eyes tightly as she remembered her attackers' faces, she willed them out. Leaning against the wall of the warehouse, she heard sirens in the distance. She had to get out of here. She had to get out of here before the authorities showed up and found her.

Feeling sick to her stomach, she walked forward quickly, yanking the black knit beanie off of her head. Her naturally wavy blonde hair cascaded down her back as she walked along and she shook it out a bit more. She didn't want to raise suspicion. Pulling her leather gloves off quickly, she shoved them into her backpack and then put the hat in there as well. Her boots hardly made a sound on the sidewalk as she moved at a leisurely pace. No one would look twice at her if she wasn't in a hurry. That was what she needed to focus on. With her heart racing a bit, she looked to the street and crossed quickly, nearly getting taken out in the process. Flipping the driver off with a glare, she started forward once more. Her means of transportation was parked two blocks away, down on the busier strip of downtown. It was a simple black motorcycle. Easy to maneuver, easy to park. It was fast and could go where cars really couldn't. It was perfect and she didn't know why she hadn't gotten one sooner. Shaking those thoughts from her mind, she kept going, moving at a faster pace now. It didn't look rushed, it just looked like there was a purpose to her walk. As she rounded the corner, she collided hard with a rather solid body. "Fuck you." Her Irish accented words came out harsh and angry, and she adjusted her bag more carefully on her shoulder before looking up. As her blue eyes recognized who was standing in front of her, they widened in shock. It was him. This had to be a dream. What were the chances? This couldn't be right. "Oh this is fucking wonderful. Stay away from me, or so help me, I'll kill you. And it'll hurt." She snapped viciously and shoved past him, her rather muscled form hitting his hard. Eli was not going to waste her time in Connor's presence. No fucking way.

[CONNOR GREGORY SELWYN]

CONNOR WAS HAVING A BAD DAY. HE'D JUST HAD A HEATED ARGUMENT WITH THE LEADER OF THE IRA, PETITIONING TO GET CONTROL OF THE MOB BACK. BUT IT WASN'T EXACTLY THAT EASY.

"WE'RE IN CONTROL NOW, CONNOR. EVERYTHING WILL WORK OUT FINE."

BUT IT WASN'T WORKING OUT FINE, WAS IT? ALL OF BOSTON WAS IN A FUCKING HELLSTORM, AND HE COULD DO SOMETHING ABOUT IT BUT HE WAS CUT OFF FROM ALL OF HIS RESOURCES. IT PISSED HIM OFF THAT THE IRA COULD SWOOP IN AND TAKE EVERYTHING HE AND HIS FATHER HAD WORKED SO HARD TO CREATE. HIS FATHER HAD CREATED A MAFIA OUT OF A GROUP OF WANDERING THUGS, AND THE IRA SOMEHOW THOUGHT THEY HAD THE RIGHT TO JUST DROP IN OUT OF NOWHERE TO TAKE ALL OF THAT. NO, DAMN IT, IT BELONGED TO HIM BY RIGHT. HE WAS THE OLDEST SON, AND HE DESERVED HIS THRONE. BUT THERE SAT A BURLY, YOUNG IRISH BASTARD ON THAT THRONE INSTEAD OF HIM. IT MADE HIM ANGRY JUST TO THINK ABOUT IT. TRUE, HE WAS EASILY PISSED OFF, BUT THIS ISSUE IN PARTICULAR HAD A SOFT POINT FOR HIM.

NOT ONE TO STUFF HIS HANDS IN HIS POCKETS AND SULK DOWN THE STREET, CONNOR CLENCHED HIS FISTS AND STALKED AROUND THE CORNER TOWARD HIS CAR. HE'D HAD MOST OF HIS CARS REPO'D ALONG WITH HIS MASSIVE MANSION FORECLOSED ON, BUT HE'D MANAGED TO KEEP HIS FAVORITE CAR, A BLACK BENTLEY SEDAN AND A MODEST CONDO IN DOWNTOWN HE SHARED WITH HIS SIBLINGS. IT WASN'T LIKE IT USED TO BE, THAT WAS FOR SURE, WHEN HE AND HIS FAMILY SHARED A MANSION WITH THE BYRNES AND ALL OF THEIR MAFIA MEMBERS. THINKING OF THAT REMINDED HIM OF ELI AND HE FELT AN AGGRAVATING PAIN IN HIS CHEST. HE'D THOROUGHLY RUINED HER, CAST HER OUT THROUGH HIS OWN MISTAKES, AND HE KNEW IT. SHE HATED HIM, HAD TOLD HIM MULTIPLE WAYS BEFORE SHE'D DESERTED THE MAFIA, AND TOOK HER BROTHER WITH HER. THAT HURT HIM ALMOST AS BADLY AS HER LOSS BECAUSE JETT HAD BEEN ONE OF HIS CLOSEST FRIENDS (AS CLOSE OF A FRIEND AS A MAN LIKE HIM COULD ACTUALLY HAVE). AS FAR AS HE KNEW, NO ONE KNEW OF THE AFFAIR THEY'D HAD, AND NOW THAT IT HAD BLOWN UP SO THOROUGHLY, HE WAS HAPPY TO KEEP IT THAT WAY.

WITH HIS MIND IMMERSED IN SO MANY THOUGHTS, HE DIDN'T EVEN NOTICE THE BODY MOVING TOWARD HIM ON THE SIDEWALK UNTIL IT WAS TOO LATE. THEY COLLIDED, BRINGING HIM TO A STOP AS THE FEMALE STUMBLED SLIGHTLY BACKWARD AND CUSSED HIM. INSTANTLY, HIS ANGER SPROUTED WINGS AND GROWLED, AND HE GLARED UP AT THE FIGURE. "HOW ABOUT YOU WATCH WHERE THE FUCK YOU'RE GOING?" HE SNAPPED BEFORE RECOGNIZING WHO HE'D COLLIDED WITH. THE MOST PECULIAR OF FEELINGS RAN THROUGH HIM AT THE SIGHT OF HER - IT HAD BEEN SO LONG AND SHE WAS STILL AS RAVISHINGLY BEAUTIFUL AS WHEN SHE'D LEFT, PROBABLY EVEN MORE SO WITH HER NEW HARDENED EDGE - A MIXTURE OF INTENSE ANGER AND DESIRE ALL MIXED TOGETHER. GRANTED, THIS WAS THE TYPE OF FEELING HE'D ALWAYS GOTTEN WHEN LOOKING AT ELI, BUT IT WAS DIFFERENT. NOW, IT WAS MORE POWERFUL AND DEEPER. HE HAD HURT HER, AND HE DIDN'T WANT TO BLAME HIMSELF FOR IT SO HE HATED HER MORE BECAUSE HE KNEW IT WAS HIS FAULT.

SHE GOT TO THE PUNCHLINE BEFORE HE DID, HER WORDS SPEWING OUT OF HER MOUTH POISONOUSLY, AND SHE PUSHED PAST HIM TO CONTINUE ON. OH NO. SHE WASN'T GOING TO GET OFF THAT EASY. NOT AFTER MONTHS - WAS IT A YEAR? - OF NOT SEEING HER WAS HE GOING TO ALLOW HER TO JUST CURSE HIM AND MOVE ON. GRABBING HER ARM STRONGLY AS SHE ATTEMPTED TO WALK PAST HIM, HE YANKED HER BACK TOWARD HIM AND SHOVED HER TOWARD THE NEAREST ALLEYWAY, STALKING IN AFTER HER. BULLYING HER UP AGAINST THE WALL, HE SLAMMED HIS PALM FLAT AGAINST THE BRICK BUILDING AND VERBALLY GROWLED IN ANGER. "I'D LIKE TO SEE YOU TRY, BITCH."

[ELI LILLIAN BRYNE]

She couldn't believe this. For a year, a solid year she had kept her distance, she had kept out of his sight. She wasn't going to run into him again. She had tried so hard not to run into him again. The feelings that erupted in her heart made her feel sick to her stomach and as she stared at the man that had claimed her once, she wanted to throw up. Stepping back from him, not because she was threatened, but because she didn't want to be that close to him, she tried to forget that this had even happened. She wanted to forget that she had even seen his stupid handsome face. She was strong enough to forget about him, to not want anything to do with him anymore. She only had to think about what he had done to her. He had sold her out to the Russians, and for what? For an alliance that didn't even exist. Her eyes filled with a fire that had diminished when she had been in Connor's presence right after her escape. She hadn't felt this intense of an anger since she had looked at him that day when he told her everything. He had murdered their child but she'd be damned if she would throw that in his face. She wasn't the kind of woman who would take a cheap shot at him. That wasn't how she operated.

Eli didn't play dirty. She did what she did and won fair and square. She killed her assignments after careful research and study. Everything she did was by the book when it came to her criminal activity and she never strayed from the rules. It was almost a fault. But the point was, she wasn't going to bring him down by announcing that she was pregnant when she had first been kidnapped. She wasn't going to inform him that the baby was killed because of the intense torturing that she suffered. She wasn't going to tell him a damned thing. Not that she was raped, not that she was hurt. If he found out, it wasn't going to be because of her. Shaking her head now, she looked at him, her eyes filling with that familiar hatred. It was a deeper hatred than she had felt even before they had started their affair. It was true and burning and she knew that she'd never hate another man as much as she hated this one. Even the Russians who had raped her. She hated them, but it was nothing compared to what she felt for Connor. She didn't even want him touching her. That was something that she never thought she would stray away from. But as his hand snaked out to grasp her arm, Eli snarled. She had gotten stronger but she was still no match against his brawn and muscle. Stumbling as he forced her into the alley, Eli felt no fear. Her hate only exploded, and she struggled against him now, her hand flying out to strike him wherever she could. As he slammed her against the wall, her breath caught in her throat as she hissed in pain. "Get your fucking hands off of me you worthless piece of shit." She bit out, watching him with narrowed eyes. Never before had Connor seen her this angry. Never before had he seen this kind of hatred from her directed at him.

When he dared her to try, Eli's eyes narrowed even more and a wicked smile worked its way onto her features. Her free hand moved quickly, effortlessly, expertly. Her skills had greatly increased and in the blink of an eye the blade of her knife was up against his throat. "What's the big, bad ex Mafia boss going to do? Call the Russians again?" She hissed out bitterly, viciously. She pushed the blade into his throat, knowing she only had seconds to do this. She had the opportunity, she had the chance, but she hesitated. Why did she hesitate? She only served in creating a small cut before he reacted. She could have killed him! Why had she stopped? He was right here, she could have ended the life of the man who had destroyed hers and their child's! What was she waiting for!? "Fuck you Connor, fuck you." The lady that Eli had been was gone. She spit in his face now, trying to do something, anything to get his hands off of her. His touch burned, made her feel dirty and used. "LET GO!" She shouted loudly, almost desperately. Snarling at herself for that emotion, she looked at him with fire in her eyes, her cheeks reddening with her anger. She wanted him gone. She wanted him out of her sight. Why was he even bothering her? Why was he even touching her? He wanted nothing to do with her, he had made that clear. She had kept her distance so now he needed to keep his. "Why are you doing this?" She just didn't understand. The confusion inside of her was obvious, but she did her best to hide it. She would not let him see her pain. She refused him that pleasure. She just wanted to get on her bike and leave. Why was he intent on talking to her?

[CONNOR GREGORY SELWYN]

HE KNEW HE WOULD PISS HER OFF BY REMINDING HER THAT HE WAS STRONGER THAN HER BECAUSE HER EGO WAS ALMOST AS BIG AS HIS SOMETIMES, WHEN IT CAME TO DOING HER JOB. SHE WAS GOOD AT IT, THE MAIN REASON HE'D KEPT HER AROUND BEFORE THE SEX STARTED, AND SHE WAS STRONG FOR A WOMAN, BUT SHE KNEW SHE COULD NEVER DEFEAT HIM IN BRUTE STRENGTH. HE GLADLY RELEASED HER AS SHE CALLED HIM A WORTHLESS PIECE OF SHIT, AND THAT WAS WHEN HE BACKED HER INTO THE WALL, THE HATRED HE FELT FOR HER FLARING OPENLY IN HIS GREEN EYES. "A WORTHLESS PIECE OF SHIT, AYE?" HE HISSED, HIS TONE FALLING COLD AND HEARTLESS. "I'M NOT THE ONE WHO FAILED A MISSION AND DRUG MY SORRY ASS UP ONTO MY BOSS'S FRONT PORCH A YEAR AGO."

IT WAS LOW, AND HE DIDN'T CARE. HE WANTED HER TO BE MAD AT HIM, HE WANTED HER TO BE IRATE WITH HIM. IF SHE HATED THEM, THAT MADE THE WHOLE SEPARATION EASIER. HE COULD HANDLE BLAME, AND HE WAS THE ONE IN THE WRONG, SO HE COULD TAKE IT. HE WANTED TO. ULTIMATELY, HE DIDN'T WANT HER TO BLAME HERSELF FOR WHAT HAD HAPPENED BECAUSE HE DIDN'T WANT HER TO CARRY AROUND THAT GUILT WITH HER. HE COULD NEVER REALLY KNOW WHAT GUILT SHE TRULY CARRIED, AND RIGHT NOW, HE DIDN'T CARE. HE WAS TOO CONSUMED IN HIS HATRED, HIS DENIAL.

HER WORDS CUT HIM AS MUCH AS HE KNEW HIS HAD CUT HER. HE DESERVED THEM, BUT IT STILL PISSED HIM OFF. SLAMMING HIS PALM AGAINST THE WALL, HE SHOVED HIS FACE INTO HERS, SO CLOSE IT REMINDED HIM OF KISSES THEY'D SHARED IN THE PAST. BUT THIS TIME IT WAS MUCH MORE VIOLENT, MORE VIOLENT THAN EVEN THE FIRST TIME THEY'D HAD SEX. THIS TIME, THEY BOTH REALLY WOULD KILL EACH OTHER IF GIVEN THE OPPORTUNITY. HE WAS NO LONGER CONNOR SELWYN, GODFATHER OF THE IRISH MAFIA, AND SHE WAS NO LONGER ELI BYRNE, PROFESSIONAL IRISH GUNRUNNER AND ASSASSIN. SHE DIDN'T WORK FOR HIM, AND SHE HAD NO WORRIES ABOUT BEING KILLED FOR KILLING HIM. CONNOR WAS NOTHING TO NO ONE EXCEPT HIS FAMILY. BUT HE WASN'T AFRAID OF HER, NEVER WOULD BE AND NEVER HAD BEEN. JUST AS HE KNEW SHE WASN'T AFRAID OF HIM. THAT WAS PART OF WHAT HE APPRECIATED ABOUT ELI: SHE DIDN'T PUSSYFOOT AROUND HIM. SHE CHALLENGED HIM AND PUSHED HIM TO HIS LIMITS, AND HE LIKED THAT ABOUT HER.

BUT HE WASN'T THINKING ABOUT WHAT HE LIKED ABOUT HER RIGHT NOW. HE COULDN'T. HE COULD ONLY HATE HER; IT WAS THE ONLY WAY HE COULD SURVIVE THIS ENCOUNTER, PHYSICALLY AND EMOTIONALLY. IF HE EVER TOLD ANYONE THE TRUTH ABOUT WHEN HE'D FOUND HER BLOODIED AND HALF-DEAD ON HIS FRONT PORCH: THAT TRUTH WOULD BE THAT HE HAD NEVER BEEN THE SAME FROM THAT MOMENT. HE'D TREATED HER WITH COLDNESS AND DISDAIN, BUT SOMETHING HAD CHANGED WITHIN HIM AT THAT SIGHT. THAT WAS HIS FAULT, THAT BLOOD, THAT PAIN, AND HE COULDN'T FORGIVE HIMSELF FOR THAT. HE HAD BETRAYED THE ONE PERSON WHO HE COULD REALLY AND TRULY TRUST AND EVEN COME TO LOVE ONE DAY, AND HE HAD ALMOST GOTTEN HER KILLED. AND SHE WAS RIGHT: FOR WHAT? THE ALLIANCE THE RUSSIANS HAD PROMISED HIM HAD ALL BEEN A RUSE CONCOCTED BY VICTOR GREY WHO HAD TURNED TAIL AND SIDED WITH THE RUSSIANS AFTER KILLING HIS OWN PROTEGE JUST BECAUSE CONNOR HAD DEFLOWERED HER. AS SOON AS HE SAW THAT BASTARD AGAIN, HE WOULDN'T BE QUITE AS LENIENT WITH HIM AS HE WAS BEING WITH ELI RIGHT NOW. BUT THAT WAS ANOTHER MATTER ENTIRELY.

HER KNIFE TO HIS THROAT CLEARED HIS MIND ALMOST INSTANTLY AS HIS MUSCLES TENSED TO RECIPROCATE. WHEN HE LOOKED INTO HER EYES, JUDGING IF SHE WOULD ACTUALLY DO IT, HE SAW IT: PURE, RAW HATRED. THERE WAS NO LUST THERE, NO NEED, NO WANT. THE ONLY EMOTIONS HE SAW WERE A LUST FOR HIS BLOOD, A NEED TO RID HERSELF OF HIM, AND A WANT TO SEE HIM WRITHING IN AGONY AS HE DIED AT HER FEET. THIS ELI WAS FAR-CHANGED FROM THE ONE HE'D KNOWN A YEAR AGO. HE HAD DONE THIS TO HER: TURNED HER INTO A RUTHLESS KILLER WITH A THIRST FOR HIS BLOOD. THAT REALIZATION MADE HIS MUSCLES RELAX, AND HIS SHOULDERS SLUMPED EVER SO SLIGHTLY. ALL OF THIS WAS HIS FAULT. HE WAS A BLASTED ASSHOLE, AND HE'D RUINED THE ONE WOMAN WHO EVER HAD THE CHANCE TO LOVE HIM. FOR ONCE IN HIS LIFE, HE FELT GUILT SWARM OVER HIM LIKE A HIVE OF ANGRY BEES, STINGING HIM AND TURNING HIS NERVES TO FIRE. SHE CURSED HIM, AND HE HARDLY EVEN NOTICED. WHEN SHE SPAT IN HIS FACE, HE SUDDENLY BACKED AWAY, WIPING HIS EYES AND SIGHING ALMOST DEFEATEDLY.

THEN HER VOICE DROPPED, WANTING HONESTY NOW THAT THERE WAS DISTANCE BETWEEN THEM. THERE WAS A SPARK OF SOMETHING THERE, LIKE SHE WANTED SOMETHING FROM HIM, MAYBE EVEN OFFERING AN OPENING, BUT HE COULD NEVER TAKE IT. HE COULDN'T BRING HER BACK INTO HIS DARKNESS. "JUST GO," HE BREATHED, WAVING HER BACK TOWARD THE STREET AS HE TURNED HIS BACK PARTIALLY TO HER. SHE NEEDED TO BE AS FAR FROM HIM AS POSSIBLE. HE KNEW THAT NOW. SHE MAY BE A KILLER, BUT SHE COULDN'T BE WEAKENED ANY MORE BY HIM IF SHE WAS FAR AWAY FROM HIM. "JUST GO, DAMN IT. GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM ME," HE HISSED IRRITABLY, GLARING AT HER.

[ELI LILLIAN BRYNE]

Failed a mission. Eli had never thought of it as her failure before but as the man she had once loved threw that in her face, it threw her. Her blue eyes, darkened by the anger and the hate, widened almost instantly and her mouth parted slightly. He knew that he meant it to hurt her, he meant to cause her that low blow that should send her to her knees. For so long she had blamed Connor for what had happened that day. He had set her up. He had fed her information that was wrong and completely misconstrued, but she had made the ultimate mistake. She had believed him. At the time, she didn't question her trust, her loyalty. Why would Connor lie to her? He seemed to have feelings for her just as she had had feelings for him. He was the one who offered the idea of a secret relationship, an affair. He had never done that with another woman and it had honestly made her feel special. It had made her feel like she meant something to him. However, now, as she looked back, she saw it as him needing her to make this alliance. His feelings were never real, his wants, his desires. They were never true and she had foolishly, blindly followed him. This was her fault. This was her mistake. She was responsible for the death of her baby. And in that instant moment of weakness, tears threatened to fill her eyes.

It had been easy, blaming Connor. It had been easy because it had felt right. She hadn't had to blame herself because it was clear. He had given her up for an alliance that would never be. But his words, his sharp, biting words...they were true. She was the one that had failed the mission. She was the one who hadn't escaped soon enough in order to save their baby. She was the one that hadn't done her research because of her trust in the leader of the Mafia. She was a fool and she felt as if she was breaking all over again. She didn't pity herself. She didn't pity anyone, but the hatred that had quickly risen to throw itself at him, was now quickly redirected to herself. What an idiot. Eli had never been one to blame someone unless it was clearly their fault. And here she had been blame him when the fault was on her own shoulders. Sure, she would never forgive him for selling her out, but she could have prevented it from ever happening. Dumbstruck, Eli turned her now lifeless eyes to the man who had ruined her once more. The hate had flickered, it had dulled as she turned to him now, not even flinching as he hit his hand against the brick wall behind her. Why should she? Out of fear? Eli had never feared him before, and she certainly wouldn't fear him now. It was as if she was incapable of feeling that emotion now, no matter who she was facing.

Eli just didn't feel. It was horrible. She felt empty, and whatever emotion she had left, which was the anger and the hatred, had quickly diminished when he accused her. Studying him now as he backed away from her, she wondered why this had happened. Because they were criminals? She didn't understand. Why did the fates have to punish her unborn child for the mistakes that she herself had made. Trying not to lose it in front of Connor Selwyn, she clsoed her eyes tightly against the tears, not even wanting them to be able to trickle out. Taking a deep breath to try and calm her racing heart, Eli pushed the back of her head into the cement wall, listening to Connor as he told her to get the fuck out of there. The nerve. The fucking nerve of him. Her ice filled eyes opened quickly, looking at him as he had the balls to stand there and tell her to get out of his face when he was the one who pulled her into this alley. Flaring for a moment, she looked at him, her voice wavering for just a moment before she dug deep and found the little strength that she had left. "You pulled me here." She whispered to him now, looking at him as if he had just struck her. She would rather him do that. She would rather have him hit her than just stand there. She had seen the defeat that had crossed his features. She could recognize it because she knew him.

Shaking her head now, she stepped away from the wall, bowing her head as she turned away from him. It was for the best. She just needed to walk away. But her mind played tricks on her. If she was to walk away now, would she ever see him again? Who was she kidding? She was being a fool. Of course she wouldn't see him again and what did it really matter? He had killed the person she had been, she had murdered the woman she had been. It was best just to keep her distance, to be more careful when it came to run ins. But she couldn't let him off that easily. Freezing mid step, she turned back to him, lifting her right hand to tuck the loose strands of hair behind her ear. And with that movement, he could see only one of the marks that the Russians had put upon her. The R was still a pink color, healing from the brand that had created the burn. It was angry looking, and quite noticeable. She wasn't wearing the leather cuff she usually covered it with because it didn't fit with the leather gloves she had needed to complete her job. Stepping back, putting her hand down, she spoke up. "You know...I realize now that the mistakes were mine. But you aren't an innocent party in this Connor. I'm not the only one who died at the hands of the Russians." She said brokenly, showing him the vulnerable woman she had become because of what had happened to her. She hated being vulnerable, and he knew that above anyone else. Looking at him for another moment, she turned away before he could see the tears that fell. Bowing her head, she hurried from the alley, rounding the corner. She wished she could take it all away. She wished she could make it so that meeting had never occurred. Her feelings, her memories...they were too raw. They were too hard for her to feel again. She just wasn't strong enough to handle it.

[CONNOR GREGORY SELWYN]

EVEN AS HE STEPPED AWAY FROM ELI, HIS ATTENTION WAS ALWAYS ON HER WHETHER HE LIKED IT OR NOT. HE STILL DESIRED HER, IN SOME WAYS EVEN MORE NOW THAT SHE WAS COLDER AND HATED HIM SO MUCH. HE WAS THAT SICK OF A BASTARD TO WANT A WOMAN EVEN MORE THE MORE SHE HATED HIM. WHEN SHE BRUSHED HER HAIR OUT OF HER FACE, HIS EYES CAUGHT INSTANTLY ON THE MARK ON HER WRIST, AND HIS EAGLE EYES HONED IN ON IT, MEMORIZING IT IN A MOMENT. AN 'R', PINK LIKE A BRAND AND NOT BLACK LIKE A TATTOO. HIS MIND WHIRLED OVER WHAT IT COULD MEAN, AND HE INSTANTLY THOUGHT OF THE RUSSIANS - HOW BEATEN ELI HAD BEEN ON THOSE STEPS - BUT HE PUSHED THE THOUGHT ASIDE. THEY HAD BRANDED HER, AND HE KNEW IT, BUT HE COULDN'T THINK ABOUT THAT NOW. SHE HAD BELONGED TO HIM ONCE - AT LEAST IN HIS MIND - AND THEY HAD MADE THE BOLD STATEMENT OF BRANDING HER TO PROVE TO HIM THAT NOTHING BELONGED TO HIM. SOMEHOW THEY HAD PROBABLY CONCOCTED THE WHOLE DEAL WITH THE IRA ARRIVING AND TAKING THE MAFIA OUT FROM UNDER HIM TOO. AND THEY HAD TAKEN THE ONLY OTHER THING THAT HE CARED ABOUT AS MUCH AS THE MAFIA: ELI.

I'M NOT THE ONLY ONE WHO DIED AT THE HANDS OF THE RUSSIANS. HER WHISPERED WORDS PIERCED HIS EARS MORE THAN YELLING WOULD HAVE, AND FOR A MOMENT HE WAS CONFUSED BY WHAT SHE MEANT. THEN HE KNEW: THE RUSSIANS KILLED PEOPLE EVERY DAY. THEY MURDERED HIS FAMILY, THE MEMBERS OF HIS FORMER MAFIA, THEY MURDERED INNOCENT PEOPLE WHO SHOULDN'T BE CAUGHT IN THE MIDDLE OF A CRIME WAR. ELI'S SOUL HAD BEEN KILLED, AND BODIES WERE LAYING ALL OVER THE COUNTRYSIDE THANKS TO THE RUSSIAN BASTARDS HE HAD BASICALLY INVITED INTO TOWN. HE WAS A FOOL.

WHEN SHE DISAPPEARED, HE ALMOST COLLAPSED AGAINST THE WALL WHERE SHE'D BEEN LEANING, HIS FOREHEAD RESTING SWEATILY ON THE BRICKS. HE COULDN'T DO THIS. HE COULDN'T LIVE WITH THE GUILT ANYMORE. HIS BREATHING SPED UP AND HIS HEAD SPUN SLIGHTLY. HE NEEDED TO STOP FEELING THIS WAY, AND THE BEST WAY TO DO THAT WAS TO STOP FEELING ALTOGETHER. STANDING, HE FOLLOWED ELI'S PATH OUT INTO THE SUNLIGHT OF THE SIDEWALK. A BLOCK AWAY HE SAW WHAT HE WAS LOOKING FOR: A BAR. THERE, HE WOULD DROWN HIS WORRIES AND HIMSELF UNTIL HE COULD NO LONGER REMEMBER ANYTHING: EVEN HIS OWN NAME.