Cormac: a Mafia Love Story
“Even the thought made her mentally stumble and try to find some other logical explanation for her neck hurting and the blood making her red scarf sticky. People like her didn’t get shot, especially outside the ballet in some indiscriminate crime spree.
She heard Cormac, her brother’s friend, talking to the police as they loaded her brother Shane into an ambulance.
“It seemed like a random drive-by, officer. We were standing outside the back of the Morrisey Performance Hall, waiting for Siobhan O’Mara, when the car drove by. They had already fired, I think, before anyone noticed they had guns.”
She managed a vague smile at the officer when he turned to look at her. A paramedic was busily bandaging her neck wound, and she clutched the red scarf in her hand, unable to stop scrunching the part that was crunchy with her dried blood. “I’m a ballerina.” Perhaps the cop interpreted her words as meant for him, but she was speaking her own thoughts aloud.
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