ANGEL OF THE BRONX
A. N.: Well, here's the start of a new fanfic that I hope will be well recieved. Sorry for the prologue being so short, but more chapters to follow. Disclaimer: I own nothing. I would love to own Conner or Murpy (just for a little while, I promise I'd give them back...eventually). New York City
Conner felt the breeze of the bullet at the same time he heard a small explosion just above his head. Sharp bits of concrete flew in all directions, embedding into the back of his neck.
"Fuck!" Murph's cursing to his right voiced Conner's thoughts perfectly. The clack of an empty cartridge was quickly followed by that of a gun falling to the ground.
"Watch yer mouth there, boy-o," their father ordered to his left. He let out two consecutive shots felling one mobster. Conner looked at him incredulously.
"C'mon, Da," he said, smirking, "What's a wee bit o'cursing when it's necessary?"
Il Duce glanced back at him frowning sternly. Letting out a second pair of shots he replied, "Ye been raised long enough with yer Ma, no need to talk like her. Bloody evil woman."
Conner and Murph glanced at each other, the same though going through their heads at the same time. Shaking their heads, they let out a second set of fire. As the smoke filling the alley cleared, the three watched as the last man standings slid to the ground, a trail of blood streaking down the brick wall. Without a second thought, Conner pulled a sac of coins from his pocket.
Handing some to Murph, he muttered quietly, "Let's be quick about this."
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