Jimmy O'Phelan stood at the edge of a field, watching as his men unbound the young girl. She reminded him so much of her father; calm, centered and balanced, until her anger got the better of her. He knew that she had seen him lay his hand on her mother, watched as he forced bruises to the surface of her skin. He knew also that regardless of her fear of him, and the distance between herself and her father, there was little that he could do to prevent word of his mistreatings of her mother reaching Filip Telford, and as little as he thought of the man, he knew that the wrath of such an individual was inescapable.

Taking measured steps towards the weeping and terrified young girl, he raised the gun that hung in his right hand. There was no other way, he reassured himself. Fiona, his wife, would never understand, but he knew with certainty that the story was manipulable. He would make sure that she only knew his side, however he decided to spin it.

Taking aim, he watched with cold, dead eyes as she fought the urge to run, the need for flight leaving her quaking on her knees on the wet grass in front of him.

"I'm sorry, Caoimhe. You know there's no other way." He said.

The young girl shook her head and closed her eyes. "You just keep telling yourself that," the ten-year-old replied. "Just tell my ma I love her. Kerri too." She opened her eyes and met his gaze dead on. "Just do it." she screamed.

Jimmy took a deep breath and his finger pressed lightly against the trigger. The bullet whipped out of the gun, piercing the young girl through the chest. She crumpled onto the ground without a sound, blood pooling around her.

It was done, he thought to himself.

"Take the body to the river. Make sure there's nothing left here." He ordered the men standing behind her. He placed a hand on the shoulder of Caoimhe's godfather as he turned. "On second thought, I think it's best if you do it." he said, a small smirk playing along the corners of his thin lips.

The man attempted to remain stoic, tears fighting to present themselves down his cheeks. He nodded and Jimmy moved on, back towards the car parked waiting on the verge by the fence. He walked unsteadily towards the body of the girl that he had helped raise, the girl that he had sworn to protect after her father was forced to flee. Kneeling down beside her, he gathered her close, whispering a prayer. "Solas Mhic Dé ar a n-anam."

As he held the small body close, he felt a tiny movement in the girl's chest. Pulling her away from him slightly, he saw her chest was moving in small rapid breaths. "Jesus Christ," he whispered. Sending a prayer of thanks towards the darkened sky, he swung the girl gently into his arms.

Jimmy walked through his front door with a satisfied gait to his step. Fiona was settling Kerrianne down to sleep, the young girl was tired out from the constant vibes of worry and stress that were emanating from her mother.

Upon seeing her husband hovering in the doorway, she kissed Kerrianne lightly on the forehead and stepped out of the room, closing the door behind her.

"Have you heard anything about Caoimhe?" She asked, a little hope shining in her eyes.

"No, love. Nobody's seen her." Jimmy lay his hands on Fiona's shoulders, running them gently up and down her upper arms. "But I promise you, we will find her. And whoever is responsible."

Fiona gulped back a sob, nodding, before pressing her forehead to Jimmy's collarbone. He wrapped his arms around her back, kissing the top of her head. As he held his wife close, he began mentally flipping through the list of people he held in contempt, looking for a scapegoat.


Not too far away, in a small room at the back of a nondescript pub, Seamus O'Reilly laid his goddaughter down on the decrepit bed and began searching through the bag that he had hurriedly collected from his apartment. As soon as he found what he was looking for, he began to clean and bandage the bullet wound that marred the girl's upper chest. Had anyone else gone to collect her supposed corpse, they too would have notice that the wound was too close to her collarbone to have been instantly fatal, and as luck would have it, it had turned out that the bullet had passed by any of her vital organs. She would have a long recovery period, but there would be little permanent damage other than the scar that would adorn her chest for the rest of her life, a constant reminder of just what family was capable of.

Knowing that Jimmy would demand to see proof of the disposal of the body, Seamus wrapped Caoimhe in one of his old sweatshirts, covering the bandages that he had put in place, and pulled her jacket on over the top. He would carry her down to the water's edge, take photographic proof of her position and proceed from there to find her safe passage out of the country and into the safety of her father's protection.

Just as he was loading the unconscious girl into his backseat, his phone rang. Glancing at the number that was flashing across the screen, he braced himself for a new list of demands and answered.

"Seamus?" he heard Jimmy enquire.

"I'm here." He was forcing his voice to remain even and not betray any of the bone-quaking rage that he harboured towards the man.

"I need one more favour. Make her match her da." And with that, Jimmy hung up.

"Shit!" Seamus all but roared. He didn't want to mar the girl's young and beautiful face, but he knew that he had little to no choice. "Please forgive me, brother." he muttered, as though Telford could hear him. His daughter would make it to him relatively safely, that seemed to be all that he could succeed in.


There was a blinding pain that ripped across her cheek and brought Caoimhe out of unconsciousness. Her eyes flew open and she took in the hulk of a man leaning over her, blade in hand.

"Uncle Seamus?" she whispered, tears springing from under her lashes.

"Ah, love. I know. I'm gonna get you out, you hear me? We'll get you to your da. But you have to let me do the other side. Jimmy's orders. He'll know something's up if I don't."

The young girl curled up into herself, nodding. She understood the reasoning behind that, and as of yet, she was not too conscious of the way that she looked. "Okay. Just promise that it's gonna be okay."

"I promise, baby girl. I promise."