It was an overcast Sunday afternoon in October and two members of the Irish Republican Army were waiting at the end of the road. A middle-aged man had stepped out of noon Mass at St. Peter's after receiving Communion, in hopes of avoiding the rush. He unhurriedly crossed the street to his car with his wife on his arm, where he helped her into the passenger seat before rounding around to the driver's side door. Just as he settled in and slipped the key in the ignition, two young men in duffel coats with the hoods pulled over their heads, and balaclavas covering their faces approached the Jaguar. One drew his gun, firing eight bullets through the driver side window. Two of the rounds hit High Court Judge John Brennan in the head, four in the chest, and one was a through-and-through to the abdomen. His wife screamed, having been hit in the thigh with the last. Hearing gunshots and the subsequent screaming, congregants poured out of St. Peter's where they realized a murder had just taken place. The two killers turned and began to run from the growing crowd of church-goers to their getaway car parked down the street.
Once in the car, they pulled off the balaclavas and stuffed them—along with the guns—into a paper bag, which would eventually find its way to the bottom of the River Lagan. Nonchalantly, the driver pulled into traffic, drove less than a half-mile where they ditched the car on Springfield Road. The passenger tucked the paper bag under his arm as they walked the rest of the way to their destination. Pushing through the front door of the home on Hawthorn Street, delicious smells wafted from the kitchen and the laughter of three children greeted them. They hid the bag in the back of the closet before toeing their boots off on the rug.
"Jimmy! Uncle Filip!"
The excited screech of a girl was all Jimmy O'Phelan heard before a blur of bright orange ringlet curls catapulted into his arms. He caught her, and Catherine wrapped one a tiny arm around the back of his neck.
Filip recognized the unamused look on his niece's face, yet her piercing eyes glowed with adoration as she looked up at Jimmy. He tickled the crooked of her neck as he wished Jimmy good luck on the ass-chewing he was about to get from a six-year-old. He took off in search of Fiona, to apologize for the same thing Jimmy would be apologizing to Catherine for.
"Ya promised ye'd be at Mass today." Catherine cocked her head to the side, as she stated the fact.
He truly did feel terrible for not keeping his word to Catherine, but when orders came down, saying no to the officer commanding wasn't an option. Brushing the tip of her nose with his index finger, Jimmy made another promise he knew had little potential of being broken.
"I know and I'm sorry, a chuisle, but I had 'ta work. How 'bout tomorrow me an' Filip get ya from school an' the three of us'll see a movie?"
"Jus' the three of us? No Liam an' Brien?"
Jimmy chuckled and assured Catherine the invite wouldn't be extended to her brothers.
From his spot at the kitchen table, Filip laced his fingers with Fiona's and could only shake his head as he watched Catherine ream Jimmy. What shocked Filip the most was how Jimmy simply took his lecture. The man, who never let a woman of any age dictate his life, was genuinely apologizing. It was official, Filip concluded, Jimmy O was absolutely smitten for the strong-willed Catherine Mary.
Nearly twenty years after that revelation, Filip "Chibs" Telford, walked into a Lodi pub, which acted as a legitimate business for the IRA to launder money through. At his side were five of his brothers, with SAMCRO president, Clay Morrow leading the pack. The men who sat at the bar were instantly recognized as Provos to Filip. They kept to themselves; were dressed in worn jeans and scuffed leather boots, plain t-shirts, and tweed flat caps. No doubt they were heavily armed, just like the SAMCRO men, and were there to offer muscle if need be.
"Fuckin' pussy," Chibs mumbled under his breath.
Jackson Teller used his tongue to toy with the unlit cigarette he had clamped between his teeth. "You cool with this, bro?"
Only two years older than his niece, Chibs always had a soft spot for Jax and appreciated the question of concern. The nightmares from the ending of his close-knit friendship with Jimmy O'Phelan still plagued his sleep every now and again, but this was business and he knew that. There was no room to make it personal, even though Chibs knew Jimmy would the moment he felt as though he was losing control of the meeting.
"You got nothing to worry about," Happy interjected, cracking his knuckles, "he tries anything stupid, I'll lay his ass out."
Now the temptation to instigate his infamous temper was alluring to Chibs, as nothing would make him happier than seeing Jimmy getting the ass kicking he well deserved. He thanked Happy, but denied himself the indulgence of being a shit-starter as it would do nothing but complicate their dependent relationship with the Irish. SAMCRO couldn't afford to piss off the Irish and send them looking for another buyer. Which meant, for the time being, Chibs would have to swallow his pride and once again do whatever he could to bend to Jimmy's ostentatious demands.
"Any idea what the bastard wants to talk about?" Tig slipped sideways into the booth behind Clay, not feeling comfortable with the packed bar. He wondered if they should have asked Tacoma for more manpower than just Happy.
Clay shook his head, being just as in the dark as the rest of his men. Jimmy had been vague in his reasoning for a face-to-face meeting, and it never really happened unless business was bad or the SAMBEL guys fucked up beyond belief.
"Clay, Jackson, pleased 'ta see ye." Jimmy made his way from the back of the pub, extending his hand to the President and VP for a shake. A pompous smile was shot at Chibs once Jimmy realized he was seated behind Jax. Moving aside, he placed a hand on the small of Catherine's back and introduced her. "This is Catherine, my business partner."
Chibs' eyes bulged when he realized who it was standing beside Jimmy. The last time he saw the likes of Catherine Mary, she had been thirteen-years-old. While she still looked every ounce of her father, it utterly killed Chibs to see she had turned into Jimmy's mini-me. Her long hair was blown out with a slight curl, and she wore an expensive deep green skirt suit.
The way Jimmy had his hand resting low on her back told Chibs she was far more than Jimmy's business partner and that made his blood absolutely boil. He wondered what happened to the man who he once considered a brother. The man who had been at his side for nearly twenty years. The man who Chibs had literally killed for. He thought back to 1986 and the High Court Judge he had shot to make sure Jimmy's assault case never made it into a courtroom.
Watching Catherine look up at Jimmy with the burning worship still in her eyes, tore Chibs to pieces. He knew for a fact the only words that would spew from her mouth were the IRA ideals Jimmy had spoon fed her the last decade. His worst nightmare was staring back at him; Catherine had been blinded by love and indoctrination, and he hadn't been in Belfast to stop it.
Scrambling up, Chibs nearly jumped over Tig to get to Catherine. He placed his hand on her forearm as she shook Jax's hand, and when she looked up, it was as though Catherine was staring at a ghost. Blinking hard and fast, it took her a moment to realize who was standing before her. While he looked exactly the same as the day he left, there was no doubting the signs of aging around his eyes. The fast life Chibs lived, wrinkles and gray hairs were a given.
"Mother'a Christ," she lowly bellowed, throwing herself into her uncle's arms.
Chibs wrapped his arms tightly around Catherine, as her fingers curled into the collar of his distressed kutte. This was a day she thought would never come and it was impossible for her to control the tears that left streaks in her foundation. Catherine took a deep breath, wanting to remember the scents of leather, tobacco, and exhaust. Just as they had done countless times when she was a child, Chibs could feel her fingers gripping the ends of his hair at the nape of his neck. She was just as beautiful now than the day he left, and Chibs felt beyond robbed having missed her grow up. It wasn't a fluke that she was there, Chibs knew Jimmy had purposely brought Catherine to tease him. She was the closest thing to Fiona and Kerrianne he would ever get.
"I've fuckin' missed ya, Caitie." He was afraid that if he let her go, she'd be gone. As long as she was with him, she was safe. "Hell are ya doin' here?"
Catherine pulled back and used the pads of her thumbs to delicately wipe the tears from under her eyes. "Been workin' me arse off wit' Jimmy. Lookin' 'ta make commander, soon."
Chibs looked over Catherine's shoulder to Jimmy. He knew there was no way Jimmy would ever allow her to move up into officer status. She was naive and in love, and believed whatever lies he fed her. The responsibilities would be handed off to Liam, and Jimmy would give her just enough to keep Catherine feeling involved, but she would always remain under his thumb. Nonetheless, Jimmy wanted her at the table so she could see her venture through from start to finish. After all, it had been her who secured the new pipeline with the Russians.
Jimmy gestured for Catherine to slid into the booth. "Ye first, a chuisle."
Hearing that Jimmy still referred to her as his pulse, Chibs wanted to jump over the table and rip his head off. Once Clay, Jax, Happy, and Tig realized who the redhead was, they knew they'd have to keep a closer eye on the two men.
"Alright, what's all this about?" Clay asked.
Catherine looked to her commanding officer, waiting for him to give her the nod to start. Although it was far from the first business transaction Catherine had found herself in the middle of, the jitters never went away. When cash flow rested on her ability her sell stock, her heart always pounded a little harder and faster than normal. Jimmy gave her the go-ahead and she started.
"Our German pipeline dried up—"
"Why?" Chibs knew he was being rude by interrupting Catherine, but, he couldn't help himself. "Ya sleep wit' yer supplier's wife, niece, too, Jimmy?"
Catherine's eyes darted between Jimmy and Chibs, embarrassed her uncle would even think to say that. How the hell did he know about her relationship with Jimmy? Resting her shaky hands in her lap, Catherine straightened herself to give the appearance she hadn't been rattled. Everyone in the pub could feel the pure hatred between the men growing dense and it left Catherine wondering if she should have done this on her own.
Jimmy had been prepared to keep it civil. Another reason why he had brought Catherine was in hopes it would force both of them to behave. Neither wanted to hurt Catherine and throwing insults at one another would do just that.
He took over for Catherine, hoping that jumping in would calm Chibs down. "The cost of AK's is at an all-time low, and they're the most sought after weapon by the low-level street gangs. We can make SAMCRO the main distributor of them,"
"Those rifles are heavy shit."
Catherine's eyes met with the owner of the raspy voice that unexpectedly made her heart flutter. His dark, apathetic orbs were locked with her sapphire ones and the first thing she noticed was the tattoos spread along his russet skin.
Without thinking, she spoke. "Aye, but me sources told me no one in this area has been able 'ta break in 'ta the former Eastern Bloc market. That means no one is movin' Kalashnikov's. There's an opportunity for bigger profits 'ta be made all around."
Chibs lost his filter after hearing Jimmy was using Catherine to make himself more money. "Surprise, surprise. It's never enough for ya, Jimmy. Always wantin' more than ya got."
"I'm really tryin' 'ta be diplomatic here, Clay." Jimmy turned to the president to settle his man down.
Catherine played with the pendant that rested on her chest as she watched the verbal sparring. It left her beyond confused, unable to comprehend the anger between the men she most admired. The last time Catherine saw them together, it was Saint Patrick's Day of 1993 and they had been drinking and goofing off like usual.
"Were Fiona and Kerrianne not enough fer ya?"
Chibs' question sent Jimmy over the edge. "Ye know I've always had me eyes on her. Maybe I 'oughta give that sister of yers a grandbaby."
"Jimmy!" Catherine roared, as Chibs tried to reach across the table and grab him.
She couldn't believe those words had actually left his mouth and she wanted to give him a fat lip. Her face turned about four shades of red as she pushed him out of the booth so she could go outside for a cigarette. Turning around, she saw Jimmy gleefully smirking at Chibs as Tig held him back.
Wagging her finger back and forth between Jimmy and Chibs, she tried to come up with words to reprimand them with, but she couldn't find any. Instead, Catherine grumbled infuriatingly and stormed outside.
The warm wind hit Catherine in the face and did very little to cool her down. Watching the interaction between Chibs and Jimmy left her fuming and wishing he had never brought her there in the first place. Being her first trip to the United States, it quickly lost all its appeal and she wanted nothing more than to be back on the Emerald Isle. She had always suspected something hideous had gone down with them and that was why no one could bring themselves to open up to her about it. For nearly ten years she had been searching for any lick of truth and what she witnessed spoke louder than words ever could.
What frustrated her the most was that this was how her reunion with Chibs had gone down. It was so far beyond how she had expected. If she had known he would be at the table, Catherine would have made sure they met before talking business. What she couldn't quite figure out was whether or not Chibs' displeasure with Jimmy was personal or industry related. She knew Chibs had been excommunicated from the ranks of the IRA so, she figured that was the leading cause.
Pushing the back door of the pub open, Jax found Catherine pacing and muttering to herself in Gaelic. He had never really heard that language being spoken, but for some reason, he found it far more beautiful than French as the words rolled off her tongue.
"Smoke?" he asked, startling Catherine.
She stopped in her tracks and looked down to the pack of cigarettes he was holding open to her. Only then did she realize she had left her's inside. Smiling weakly, she pulled one out and placed it between her strikingly red lips. Jax flipped his Zippo and Catherine grabbed his wrist as she brought her cigarette to the flame.
"Thanks," she exhaled the smoke through her nostrils as she spoke.
"What the fuck was that about?"
Catherine wished she had an answer for him. All she could do was shrug her shoulders and focus on smoking. Jax wished that wasn't her first impression of the mother charter, but he really couldn't blame Chibs for blowing up as he had. This was the first time he had seen Jimmy since leaving Belfast and the wounds were still fresh. The best thing to do was get back to business.
"Where were you goin' with the AK's?"
Looking around to make sure the coast was clear, Catherine stepped closer to Jax so he could hear her hushed tone. The sexy scent of her sweet and fruity perfume sent Jax's head spinning and he fought to pay attention to her words. She was far more intoxicating than any Irish whiskey.
As he watched her mouth form words, all he could think about was how badly he wanted that classic red lipstick of hers smeared all over his mouth. He had only just learned her name fifteen minutes prior but, Jax was a hot-blooded male who was twisted for smolderingly sexy women.
"True IRA is pickin' up momentum. The six counties are gettin' hot an' we need ta bring in more cash."
"So, you want us to run them?"
"Not necessarily," she said, smiling. "SAMCRO sells ta whomever they please in Northern Cali, Washington, Oregon. We just ask that we remain the only supplier in the area. If ya catch wind that someone else is lookin' 'ta break in'ta the market, jus' let us know an' we'll take care of it."
You can take care of me, Jax thought.
Jax nodded and flicked his cigarette to the ground. "I may be able to get them on board. We'll talk tomorrow; go over numbers and then I'll bring it to the table. I promise I'll have an answer for you before you head home."
"Appreciate it, Jackson." Catherine held her hand and offered a kittenish smile.
Internally, she was jumping for joy over the fact she had managed to salvage the colossal deal Jimmy nearly fucked up.
Back in the pub, Catherine wasn't surprised to find SAMCRO long gone. Jimmy was sitting on a barstool at the end of the bar, a tumbler of scotch glued to his lips. At the sound of her pumps clicking on the wood floor, Jimmy set the glass down and stood to give Catherine his seat.
"Yer welcome, O'Phelan," Catherine didn't bother looking at him as she took his glass and polished off the rest of the scotch. "I'm meetin' with Jackson in the afternoon, 'ta go over numbers an' he promised 'ta bring it up fer a vote."
Shame and remorse weren't feelings Jimmy was accustom to feeling. As Catherine sat there, eyes forward, he was having a hard time coming to terms with the fact he had lost his cool. For the first time in their relationship, Catherine had to clean up a mess he created. While he was beyond impressed she had managed to smooth things over and get Jax interested in the deal, it still made him look beyond unprofessional. Most distressing, it made him look weak to Catherine like he couldn't handle the verbal jabs being thrown at him.
Plucking the freshly lit cigarette from her lips, Jimmy took it for himself. He hated to see her smoke and he hated it even more that she was practically ignoring him. "Talk ta me,"
"What the fuck happened?"
Venom dripped from her words. She had every right to be upset with him, and he owed her an explanation.
He poured four fingers of Johnnie Walker for them to share.
"That was ten years of resentment comin' 'ta the surface. Ya gotta realize, when Filip left Belfast, t'was ugly. He fucked up an' found 'imself outta the True Army. Things fell apart between 'im an' Fiona, an' he's still ragin' that she came 'ta me wit' Kerrianne."
At the mere mention of Fiona, Catherine rolled her eyes. "She should'a left Belfast wit' Filip, as far as I'm concerned."
And just like that, Chibs was far from her mind.
Stubbing the cigarette out in the plastic ashtray, Jimmy placed two fingers on Catherine's cheek and turned her face so she was looking at him.
"Jealously looks hideous on ya, love."
Catherine lifted the glass to her mouth and took a sip. She welcomed the burn in her chest and stomach as she licked a bead of scotch from her lower lip. There was no stopping the envy that gripped Catherine when it came to Jimmy's relationship with Fiona. After all, she was human and what woman enjoyed watching the man she loved to go home to another family. The only satisfaction Catherine had, was the fact she was guaranteed the next three weeks of Jimmy all to herself.
"Please, I'm not jealous."
She knew that sounded about as convincing as when Jimmy tried to tell her he wasn't threatened by Lorcan. He gloated for weeks after Catherine told him their relationship had fallen apart. When the news reached him that Lorcan had enlisted in the Royal Marines, Jimmy bought every patron in the pub a round of shots in celebration.
"Besides," Jimmy placed his hand on Catherine's bare knee, tracing small circles with his thumb. "Ye know ye've got nothin' 'ta worry about. Yer my girl."
Catherine shifted in the barstool so she was facing him before hiking her skirt up in order to spread her knees a little more. Once she opened herself up to him, Jimmy squeezed himself between her legs.
Peering over her shoulder, he made sure none of the other men were paying them any attention before sliding his hand up her skirt. He darted straight for what she was offering him. Catherine's lashes fluttered when she felt his thumb run along her pantie covered slit.
"Jesus," he murmured. "Yer fuckin' soaked."
The gravel in his voice only made her panties grow damper. Catherine slipped her hands under his suit jacket and placed them on his sides. "I think ya may need 'ta search a wee bit more, jus' 'ta be sure."
Jimmy had to clamp his teeth down on his lower lip to keep himself from groaning at her suggestion. This woman was going to be the death of him.
Just to be absolutely sure eyes weren't on them, he gazed around the pub once again. There were seven men sitting farther down the bar from them, their attention glued on their pints. The bartender was busy in banter as he dried and stacked glasses. Thankfully the music was just loud enough to drown out the conversation between the couple.
Slipping his fingers under the edge of her panties, Jimmy nearly died when he came in contact with her hot slickness. He could feel her nails bite into his skin through the material of his shirt as he slipped a finger inside of her. Her mouth fell open at the exquisite pleasure and he warned her in Gaelic to stay quiet, just before sliding his middle finger in.
Jimmy glided his fingers in and out at a deliciously slow pace, enjoying the torment he was bringing about Catherine's body. Her breaths started to become quick and more shallow. She bit her lip.
He brushed his thumb over her clit, causing her forehead to fall and land on his chest.
"Who made ya this wet?" he whispered into her ear.
Catherine's mind was short-circuiting to the point she couldn't form a coherent thought. The lazy circles he traced along her caused nearly all of her nerve endings to burst. She was far more concentrated on not crying out in hedonism than answering Jimmy's question.
With his free hand, Jimmy gathered Catherine's hair in his fist and pulled her head up so their eyes met. "I'm not gonna ask ya again."
The words gargled in her throat and she managed to spit them out. "Ye did, Jimmy."
She knew how much he loved it when she said his name. When she lifted her lashes to stare into his eyes, she saw the storm of desire. He saw the pleading expression on her face; she was so close to the blissful edge and his tantalizingly relaxed speed was only drawing out her release.
Wrapping an arm around Catherine, Jimmy pulled her into him. Her forehead once again rested on his pectoral as he brought his mouth to her ear. The feeling of his hot breath caused her to shiver, and goosebumps exploded all over her body.
"I fuckin' spoil ya, sweetheart."
Whispering to her, Jimmy curled his middle finger hitting that sweet spot buried deep. Putting her out of her misery, he brushed it again and pressed his thumb to her clit. Just as expected, Catherine grew tense in his arm, her body exploding in pure ecstasy.
