At an ungodly hour, well before the sun had even begun to rise, Jimmy woke Catherine from a deep slumber. It was a taxing chore for Jimmy, as Catherine had never been a morning person. With time ticking away, he somehow managed to wrestle her into the shower and had her fueled with coffee and eggs before wrangling her into the car. The drive to the safe house in the country was silent. Catherine didn't have much to say after the events of the previous night. Still grappling with her own discontent in having given in to Jimmy so easily, her plan of action was to just remain as pissed off as possible around him. Unfortunately, that was proving too difficult, especially when he had been waiting for her outside of the bathroom with a hot cup of fresh coffee. He had also made her breakfast as she got dressed and put on her makeup.
Seeing Jimmy actually make an effort to smooth over the mistakes he had made, tugged at Catherine's heartstrings. She was smart enough to understand that it would take far more than a cup of coffee, fried eggs, and warm brown bread to make up for the last few weeks. While she waited in limbo during the process of her court-martial, Catherine had promised herself that the future of their relationship rested solely on its outcome. If by some miracle she managed to get out this mess with a simple slap to the wrist, then she would be a little more willing to explore the possibility of a romantic prospect again. Moving to a different unit wasn't done out of spite on her part. Catherine genuinely thought taking some time apart would benefit both of them. For the last handful of years, they had spent far too much around one another as the line between their personal and professional relationship had become indistinct.
The sun had just begun to climb the pink and orange sky, when Jimmy pulled up to the safe house tucked away in the lush Irish countryside. Catherine hopped out of the SUV, stretching and yawning. Pocketing the keys, Jimmy rounded the front of the Range Rover to the passenger side.
"Nervous?" He asked.
"Aye, a wee bit."
Catherine knew she had nothing to be worried about, but that did very little from stopping her from feeling that way regardless. Over the years she had heard horror stories from her comrades about how brash and intimidating the men of the Internal Security Unit could be. Considering it had been just about a week since she was released from Musgrave, Catherine reminded herself that she was only on edge because the memories of her interrogation there were still fresh.
Jimmy ran his fingers through her wavy locks, tucking them behind her ear. She was wearing her glasses, which he loved, and he noticed she was wearing more makeup than usual. While it made Catherine look slightly older and more polished, Jimmy didn't like it. He adored the slight freckling she had on the bridge of her nose and cheeks during the summer months, and they were hidden under a thick layer of foundation. Wearing heavy makeup was Catherine's tell for nervousness; the more she wore, the timider she was. He wanted to try and calm her nerves before going in.
"It's not as bad as ya think." Jimmy rubbed his knuckles along the apple of her cheek. "All they're gonna do is ask ya questions about what the detectives wanted ta know an' how ya responded ta them. Just be honest."
She nodded, looking over to the house. Compared to the rest of the homes they had passed along the way, this one appeared abandoned. With its cloak-and-dagger location and the lack of upkeep, Catherine realized this place was only used when serious matters needed to be discussed. It made sense, as they were dealing with the likelihood of an informer in the ranks. Surely that would be on the agenda to talk about, as last night Jimmy had pulled Catherine into his meeting with the commander from South Armagh to discuss just that. Turns out Belfast wasn't the only place with leaky pipes, as sensitive information about the doings in Crossmaglen had been revealed to the PSNI too.
Walking up the gravel drive, Catherine didn't fight it when Jimmy interwove their fingers. Squeezing her hand for reassurance, Catherine could feel her heart rate begin to drop back down to normal. Jimmy escorted Catherine inside, where she was immediately met with six men who had their faces covered with balaclavas. They were dressed in the customary IRA ensemble of camouflage fatigues. Even their boots were shined to the point where she was sure she could see her reflection. Although that was a uniform Catherine had seen hundreds of times before—she had even seen Patrick and Jimmy dressed like that on several occasions—their militaristic air instantly made her palms begin to sweat. Both Jimmy and Catherine were unsure about what unit had been assigned to their debriefings, but their Donegal accents at least gave away a region.
"Catherine, yer wit' us."
Without a word, Catherine dropped Jimmy's hand and followed three of the masked men up the stairs. Midway through her ascent, she swiveled her head to catch one last glance at Jimmy. He gently nodded his head in reassurance. Catherine needed to know it would all be okay, and that's exactly what she got from that tiny gesture.
She found herself sitting in a darkened room, facing an empty wall. The windows had been covered with black sheets to keep out most of the natural light. Standing behind her, the three men asked her questions at rapid fire speed. Catherine knew this technique was used to see if she would stumble on or change any of her answers. She could tell they took their job rather seriously and for that, she showed them just as much respect as they were showing her.
Halfway through the quasi-interrogation, Catherine began to relax, thankful that once again her mind had overthought the situation. They asked her to divulge specific details about what had gone down, so, she told them everything. She told them about how the detectives had known about what operations she had been involved with, her court-martial, and even had photos of her and Jimmy together. She fished out the Sinn Fein business card from the back pocket of her jeans. Handing it over to them, they promised her they would pass along the information to someone at the top of the command.
Because Catherine had followed the Green Book to almost a T, they said they were pleased with how she had handled herself. They did advise her to never again even write "fuck off," on any documents she was presented with. Typical PSNI tactics had been used on Catherine. She was surprised to hear that the PSNI had absolutely no intention on charging her, and were only interested in what intelligence they could drag out of her. Her early release had been a clear indicator of that. The detectives had hoped that by granting her early release, Catherine would feel more compelled to help them out, just as they had helped her.
At the end of her debriefing, a man with a gravelly voice—a voice that reminded her too much of Happy—asked if she was considering a turn down Damascus Road.
In light of everything she had been through over the last year, Catherine felt that was a fair question. Having spent nearly her entire life devoting herself to her Catholic faith, Catherine recognized what was being asked of her. Had she reached a point in life where a great change of ideas and beliefs was starting to take place?
In her heart, Catherine knew the answer. Spending those two days in jail had solidified her commitment to the cause more than anything. The first mistake she had ever made cost an innocent man his life, but with the guidance of a certain persuasive priest, Catherine was learning how to cope with the overwhelming guilt. Folding her hands in her lap, Catherine dipped her head and smiled as she thought back to the night she had officially been sworn into the IRA. Nowhere along the hellish road, she's been navigating has Catherine forgotten the reason why she continued to risk her life day in and day out. To her, this was a time of war, and in any war there were casualties.
Kindly, Catherine assured them she was considering no such turn.
It was nearly noon when the Internal Security Unit finished with her. Walking down the stairs to the living room so she could wait for Jimmy, Catherine's face lit up when she saw who was sitting on the sofa. Flipping absently through the basic channels on the television, Darragh was just as thrilled to see Catherine. Turning off the small screen and tossing the remote onto the coffee table, Darragh jumped up to greet her. He wrapped his strong arms around her, quickly becoming intoxicated by the heavenly milk and honey fragrance of her curls.
"What are ya doin' here?" She excitedly asked.
He smiled warmly, content to see Catherine seemed to have mellowed out some since being in Dundalk. "Just wanted ta make sure everythin' is goin' smoothly."
There was absolutely no reason for Darragh to be there, but thankfully Catherine took his answer at face value. In her experience thus far, she had come to the conclusion that he was the most hands-on commander in all of the True Army. There was one small piece of knowledge that Catherine wasn't privy to, that was that Darragh wasn't nearly as hands-on with his other subordinates as he was with Catherine. She was his exception.
The first time Catherine and Darragh had become acquainted, was when Liam brought him into the O'Toole home. With the Royal Ulster Constabulary looking for the pale lad with ebony hair and stormy gray eyes, Olivia made sure he was well fed and taken care of. Patrick had been doing a six-month stint at Magilligan prison and Catherine was sixteen. Although her relationship with Lorcan was in its early stages at the time, Catherine had found herself wildly moonstruck by the twenty-one-year-old IRA man.
To that day, she had one particularly fond memory of Darragh: they stayed up all night in the living room, smoking pot and pondering life. Darragh had passionately kissed Catherine, which almost resulted in the loss of her virginity. The only thing that stopped Darragh from taking it too far was the fact he could tell Catherine just simply wasn't ready. The next morning, he was gone and less than a year later, sentenced to ten years at Maghaberry.
Although he served less than half of his sentence, they had never once lost contact. Getting those weekly letters from Catherine had been the only thing that made his time inside tolerable. When Darragh had been released and found out Catherine became mixed-up with Jimmy, his heart broke. For the last two years at Maghaberry, Darragh began to envision a life with Catherine. He knew she would be an even more loyal and devoted wife than she was a volunteer. It broke his heart, even more, to see how Jimmy treated Catherine, and how she just followed him around like a lost puppy dog simply because she had latched on to him at such a young age.
After getting the phone call that she was ready to join his unit, Darragh saw the stars aligning for the first time in his wayward life.
Unlucky for him, Catherine had never seen Darragh in that light. To her, he was a third older brother whom she could turn to when the world around her seemed to be crumbling. She was well aware of the cliché, but Catherine knew she would always try to make things work again with Lorcan if a life with Jimmy never came to fruition. Tucked under the mattress in her bedroom at home in the Short Strand, was a small calendar where Catherine counted down the days until Lorcan was discharged from the Royal Marines. She could only hope that he would return to Belfast when it was said and done.
"Ya didn't have ta do that. Jimmy's actually here wit' me, so he told me what ta expect an' whatnot."
Darragh bit the inside of his cheek. It was painfully obvious to him that Catherine didn't know what was on the itinerary for the remainder of the day. He didn't want her there alone when she was thrown to the wolves. Sitting back down on the sofa, Darragh patted the empty cushion beside him. Catherine sat.
"Don't freak out," he placed a hand on Catherine's knee, "but, the Irish Kings are on their way here an' they're expectin' a sit-down wit' ye, Jimmy, an' some other blokes. I wanted ta be here ta make sure ye aren't treated unfairly."
All the color just about drained from her face. She turned her head to face Darragh, hoping that she'd see him smiling and that what he said was a joke. When his face remained unchanged, Catherine only then realized that he wasn't.
"Do ya know what they wanna talk about?"
"The deal wit' SAMCRO, an' the wee issue of a tout. But, I'm also here ta bring up yer court-martial an' see if we can get it all resolved now. If we can get the Kings ta see Jimmy did it out of spite, yer suspension will be lifted an' they'll toss it all together."
"Ya think that'll work?" Catherine asked, trying not to get her hopes up.
Darragh nodded, "I do. At the very least, ye'll be walkin' outta here back on active duty."
That was all Catherine needed to hear to put the pep back in her step. The last month had been such a whirlwind that she was looking forward to winning once for a change. As the ruling council for the True Army, the Irish Kings had last say on anything that went down on the street level. Luckily for her, Catherine had never once crossed any of the Kings. They said "jump," and Catherine smiled while asking, "how high?" Making Jimmy look like a sneering halfwit in front of the men who would untimely decide whether or not he became an Irish King himself wasn't at the top of her priority list, but Catherine would be damned if she were going to let this opportunity pass her by. If, in the process of pleading her case Catherine showed the Kings that Jimmy wasn't fit to sit on the council, so be it.
That was the kind of cruel irony Catherine enjoyed.
Catherine couldn't help but feel severely out of place. At the head of the table sat Brendan Roarke, with Peter Dooley, Declan Brogan, and Galen O'Shay on either side of him. With Jimmy, Donny, and the commander of the ISU occupying the rest of the chairs, that left the remaining eight of them scattered about the room. Resting her back against the wall, Catherine crossed her arms over her chest, not exactly sure who she should be focusing on. At the moment she was none-too-pleased with Jimmy—yet again—as he had purposely not told Catherine about the Kings instance on a meeting.
As they discussed the successful AK deal with SAMCRO, Catherine could feel Darragh nudge her side in a congratulatory way. She had worked extremely hard on getting that deal off the ground, and a part of her was displeased that she would no longer be overseeing its execution. Trying to see the brighter side of it, Catherine was just happy she would no longer have to do the copious traveling anymore. Staying put in Northern Ireland was just fine for her.
"Next order of business," Peter Dooley tapped his knuckles on the tabletop. "What do we know about the informant situation?"
The commander of the ISU cleared his throat and sat a little straighter in his chair. He flipped through pages of notes in a steno pad and Catherine was praying he had nothing to really give them so far. She still felt terrible that her first thought had fallen to Liam. If it was him, she wanted to be the one to figure it out first.
From the corner of her eye, Catherine could see Jimmy glancing at her. The look on his face was that of pure annoyance. Just as he decided to keep it to himself that the Kings were interested in her being part of the meeting, Catherine hadn't told Jimmy about the Sinn Fein business card. She wanted him to be caught off guard by it in front of the council, but that only backfired. Danny Murphy, the ISU's commander, had told Jimmy about it moments before they congregated for the meeting. It didn't take long for Jimmy to figure out Catherine's plan, and it left him less than thrilled.
"So far we don't have much ta go on, but there's no doubt in any of our minds that someone's talking," Danny started. "From what Jimmy and Catherine have told us, along with the blokes from South Armagh, I think it's safe ta narrow it down ta being a lad from Belfast.
At the mere mention of it being someone from Belfast, Catherine, Darragh, and Jimmy simultaneously dipped their heads in shame. They realized how bad this entire situation made them look. The only person who really had nothing to be ashamed of felt it the most. For Catherine, it didn't matter that she wasn't part of the exclusive officer's club, she felt as though she bore the same amount of blame for this happening. She had her toes dipped in about every unit in Belfast, she shouldn't have let her guard down.
Darragh cleared his throat before speaking. "All of my guys check out. I had ISU in Belfast pull bank records; no one had an influx of cash. I also spoke with them individually, along with their former OC's. Nothin' came up that raises red flags."
That seemed to satisfy the Kings. Darragh and Catherine had found it peculiar that the Brigade commander who was in charge of counterintelligence, was missing from the table. Catherine didn't mind it much though, considering her trust in him had taken a nosedive ever since the night her bedroom windows had been shot out. She now had absolutely no trust left in him, as it was partly his fault that she ended up in this situation altogether. Keeping Catherine and Jimmy out of jail was at the top of his priority list.
As the Kings spoke with Jimmy and Danny, Darragh was slowly beginning to lose his cool. While Jimmy's safety was something he couldn't care less about, making sure Catherine wouldn't be taken out while having her afternoon tea was at the forefront of his mind. He didn't like that the Kings were doing what they could to keep Jimmy out of the line of fire, all the while leaving Catherine to fend for herself.
"Has it been sorted out as ta who tried ta have Catherine shot in her bedroom last month?" Darragh asked.
Catherine peeped up at him, her eyes pleading with him to take it easy. The last thing she wanted was for him to get into a confrontation with the Kings over something she had made peace with a long time ago. She more than appreciated the gesture, but she feared he would have to face consequences over nothing.
Jimmy turned in his chair in order to get a good look at Darragh. He knew the history that was between Darragh and Catherine, and he was smart enough to realize that in asking that question, Darragh was just trying to prove something to her. While Jimmy valued the effort on the Donegal man's part, the only person he really worried about was Lorcan.
It was honestly just pure entertainment for him, as he had front row seats to watch Darragh crash and burn. Galen, however, felt a little differently than Jimmy. Knowing the type of man Darragh was, he had always admired the strong sense of loyalty and protectiveness he carried. Looking out for one's unit was the most commendable thing an officer commanding could do, and that was precisely why Galen hadn't hesitated to put Darragh in that position.
Jimmy watched with a smug smile on his face as Galen leaned back slightly in his chair. Once the Galen crossed his arms over his chest, Jimmy knew it was all over for Darragh. He was more than prepared for the fireworks and couldn't wait to watch him fold under the pressure.
"We did," Galen answered.
The only person in the room who was shocked by the outward show of regard was Jimmy. Catherine internally laughed as Jimmy's jaw almost fell through the table and right to the floor. She locked eyes with him and raised her eyebrows several times to mock him. She knew Jimmy had been waiting for Darragh to get his ass chewed out in front of her, a sick way to prove to her that she would never have a commander who was as capable as Jimmy. Truth was, Catherine had long since learned that were was genuine mutual respect between Darragh and the Council, unlike with Jimmy. Because of that—along with a laundry list of other reasons—Catherine didn't mind admitting that she had more faith in Darragh than in Jimmy.
Galan continued, this time focusing his eyes on Catherine as he spoke to Darragh. "It was a calculated effort made by the Ulster Defense Association ta take out Jimmy, and Catherine. The PSNI knew of their intentions and did absolutely nothing ta stop them, as they were looking ta eliminate our ability ta continue ta funnel cash, and make sure there was no one to properly take Jimmy's place."
Catherine nodded. It was a sufficient answer, one that completely made sense. But, she still couldn't knock that gut-feeling that something didn't seem right. None of those loyalist blokes would have known she was set to arrive home from Malta that night, and the clashes in the Short Strand made the conditions all too perfect. The only reason why Catherine dropped it, was because Patrick told her to.
"Can we please get back on track?" Brendan interjected. "There's obviously a reason why this detective gave Catherine his Sinn Fein card, and I intend ta get ta the bottom of it. I know it's a lot ta ask of ya, Catherine, but we need ya ta meet with him."
She didn't like that suggestion in the slightest. Opening her mouth to state just that, Declan quickly shut her down. "It's the perfect opportunity for ye ta gather intelligence. We already contacted a unit in the Falls ta make sure this detective, Ian Wright, has any real connections ta Sinn Fein. For all we know, it's a fake an' they wanted ta see if ye'd take the bait. If it all turns out ta be true, we'll tell ye where ta meet with him an' there'll be a team waiting ta offer backup if need be. Don't worry, ye won't end up in handcuffs. Smoking out the tout is at the top of everyone's priority list. Got it?"
For some odd reason, she couldn't help but feel like she was being set up, like how she had been set up the night the UDA supposedly shot at her. The apprehension she was feeling was palpable. She wasn't in any place to tell the Council to shove it, so Catherine knew she'd have to play every move close to the chest.
A part of her was appalled they were even asking her to do it. She figured that after spending a few days behind bars, they would be anything possible to not put her back there. Sure they promised that's not how it would end, but there was only so much one unit could do when faced with the true firepower of the PSNI. Maybe Darragh could get her out of it when it was time to actually pull the trigger.
So, Catherine simply nodded to show she understood what was expected of her.
"Does this mean ya want my unit ta take a step back on the operation ta wipe out the Irish People's Liberation Army?" inquired Darragh.
Peter and Galen told him "no," in unison, but it was Galen who took over in speaking. "This is projected to be one of our largest operations to date. We need you and your unit totally focused on the preparation. We want Catherine running basic surveillance on Shane Carrigan, then try ta get close ta him. Catherine, make him think yer unhappy with the direction we're heading and that yer interested in joining IPLA."
Now that was the news Catherine had been waiting to hear. Her face lit up brighter than a Christmas tree at the thought of being front and center in this operation. For years now, the True Army had been tolerating the actions of the Irish People's Liberation Army. The faction had split from the IRA following the passage of the Belfast Agreement, and they were more focused on bringing chaos, not peace. Between getting involved in the ecstasy trade, purposely assaulting innocent civilians in unionist neighborhoods, and attacking their former True Army comrades, the one thing both republicans and loyalists could agree on was that IPLA needed to be liquidated.
Shane Carrigan, the leader of the IPLA's Belfast Brigade, had managed to keep the True Army Council off his back until several of the men under his command were accused of gang-raping a young woman from the Shankill Road.
Catherine realized this operation couldn't be happening at a most opportune time in her life. Before the faction split, Shane had been under Jimmy's command in the Short Strand and lived less than a two-minute walk from Catherine's house on Clandeboye Drive. With Jimmy and Catherine's relationship all but over, along with her living in West Belfast once again, it wouldn't take much for Shane to believe that Catherine was looking to jump the IRA ship.
There was only one issue with Galen's proposal. Darragh knew it too, so he slightly nudged Catherine's elbow with his own, telling her this was a perfect time.
Out of respect, Catherine shot her hand up and remained even-tempered when Declan called on her to speak.
"While I do very much appreciate the appointment ta run intelligence on this extremely significant operation, I've unfortunately been suspended from active duty by my former Officer Commandin', Jimmy O'Phelan, pendin' the outcome of my court-martial. Sadly, I'm gonna have ta sit this campaign out."
Once those words left Catherine's mouth, she avoided Jimmy's gaze altogether. He was seething, but what infuriated Jimmy the most was that Catherine didn't have the courage to even look at him after trying to purposely embarrass him in front of the Irish Kings and the Donegal security unit.
By the way Darragh had bit his lip to stop himself from bursting out into laughter, Jimmy instantly put it together that he had been the one to put Catherine up to saying that. At first he had thought her moving units would be a good way for them to patch up their relationship, too, but now he saw how much Darragh instigated her immature behavior. It was also painfully obvious what Darragh was attempting to do—push Catherine away from Jimmy by any means.
If looks could kill, Catherine knew she would have dropped dead right then and there. She could feel Jimmy's eyes burning holes into her and she was surprised steam wasn't shooting out of his ears. Most people didn't take it upon themselves to intentionally piss off Jimmy O. Catherine had reached a point where she felt as though she had nothing else to lose. Being faced with the possibility of being dismissed with disgrace from the IRA had opened her eyes to an entirely new outlook. Life was changing for her regardless of the outcome of her court-martial, and she decided she was no longer going to watch life pass her by. If she wanted to make Jimmy look like a fool in front of the four men who would determine his future, then she was going to make him look like a fool.
To some extent, Catherine was trying to call his bluff. He had promised he would never lose his temper on her again, so time would only tell if he truly meant his word or not.
An intense silence blanketed the cramped room. The Kings knew she had been suspended, but never thought for one second that someone like Catherine would actually take that order to heart. They should have expected it though, considering in the four-and-a-half years she had been a volunteer, she hadn't stepped out of line. The Catherine standing before them was one they didn't recognize.
Catherine had remembered who she was, and because of that, the game changed.
Galen's mouth curled into a half-smile as he surveyed the young redhead. With the steely eyes of the South Armagh man beating down on her, Catherine could feel her hands start to prick with numbness. A cold sweat began to bead along her forehead, but she refused to break eye contact with him. The Belfast Butcher intimidated her more than any demon, and that was all the more reason for Catherine to remain unbroken. Galen respected the fact she possessed a true rebel's heart. She was hellfire and holy water. Which one you were lucky to taste, depended on how you treated her. Just like her father.
"I wonder which will get ya killed fastest—yer loyalty, or yer stubbornness?" Galen professed.
She knew he most likely didn't mean it the way she interpreted, but Catherine took that as a compliment.
Turning in his chair, Galen pointed to Jimmy. "As of right this second, she's back ta active duty. And, I want her in front of a Court before this time next month so this shite can get wrapped up as soon as possible."
A wave of relief washed over Catherine. She knew the Council didn't have the authority to completely toss out the charges before she was even tried, but knowing she had Galen O'Shay in her corner would help her sleep a little sounder. Hearing Jimmy be the one lectured for once was a victory in and of itself to her. This didn't happen very often so she had to take what she could get. Plus, having it come from the Council that she was finally free to get back to work made it all the sweeter. She was already figuring out when she and Darragh could meet to draw up a plan of action once she was back in Belfast.
"See," Darragh handed Catherine his lighter, "I told ya t'would all work out in the end."
Catherine lit her cigarette and gave him back his lighter. Everyone but Jimmy and Donny had been excused from the meeting, which left Catherine with a fleeting sense of dread. There was absolutely no way those two weren't being reamed out for the fact things in Belfast were quickly turning to shit. Blowing out a stream of smoke from her nostrils, Catherine peered out into the sunset.
"He's pretty cross with me, yeah?"
Sliding one hand into the front pocket of his worn-out jeans, Darragh flicked the ash of his cigarette. "Why the bloody hell does it matter ta ye if he's ragin' or not?"
His tone took Catherine back. She had only ever known him to keep his cool around people. However, it was a known fact that Darragh enjoyed cruising pubs down in Newry, looking for a drunk to beat the shit out of once a month. For a long time, Catherine wondered why people in her inner-circle seemed to be plagued with a never-ending stream of anger. After Jimmy almost beat the life out of her, Catherine finally understood why. She found herself just as angry. The ironic part of it all was that it wasn't Jimmy she was angry with—she was angry at the violent world that had shattered practically all of his humanity.
"It makes me life a little easier when Jimmy isn't looking fer blood. I'm the one who calms him down an' it's even harder fer me ta do that when I'm the one who caused him ta go off the deep end."
"Ya do realize it's not yer responsibility ta reel him in, right?" Darragh pointed out. "I do believe it's Fiona who is in charge of that."
"That may be true, but Fiona has no idea how ta deal with him. Jimmy's been out of control because she's letting him. He's the kind of man who a woman ta run his life because he's so…overemotional—he lets his emotions get the best of him. I'm not saying I want ta be the woman running his life, I just think he deserves someone better than Fiona."
He snorted, not even feeling the slightest bit bad that Catherine was unamused by his actions. "I need ya ta promise that yer totally here wit' me, an' not wit' him. This operation comin' up is huge and it will either be totally successful or a total blood-bath. That all depends on how well ya do yer job. If yer gonna be running back ta Jimmy, then cut yer losses now an' just leave the Ra all together. Because honestly, we don't have time for this schoolyard shite."
Catherine couldn't even be upset with Darragh for dishing out a hot serving of old-fashioned tough love. Everyone in her life had been walking on eggshells when it came to Jimmy that it was refreshing to finally hear the truth from someone. Darragh was going to keep her grounded.
"Like ya heard me tell me Da, I'm in this. I'm done with him, and I'm here wit' ye an' the rest of the unit. There's nothin' ta worry about."
Darragh tucked the butt of his cigarette into the corner of his mouth, holding out his right pinky-finger to Catherine. She smiled like an idiot at his silly gesture. "Promise?"
"I promise!"
Curling her finger around his, Catherine was startled at the sound of the screen door slamming shut. Looking over her shoulder, all the color drained from her face when she saw Jimmy storming down the front steps. Tossing her cigarette, she instinctually moved behind Darragh in hopes that he would act as a buffer. She didn't think that he would try anything with others around, but this was a level of angry that Catherine had never seen before.
"What are ya doin, O'Phelan?"
Darragh wasn't exactly sure as to what Jimmy's next move would be either, so he pushed Catherine totally behind him. On her tip-toes, Catherine gazed over Darragh's shoulder. The protective stance that he took in front of her, reminded Catherine of the times Brien and Liam had stepped in between her and Patrick when the verbal spats got nasty. She felt safe with Darragh and had faith in the fact that he wouldn't let Jimmy—or anyone—put a hand on her.
Underneath Jimmy's Oxfords, the gravel crunched. With each step closer to them, Catherine curled her fingers into Darragh's side until her knuckles were a piercing shade of white.
"Son-of-a-bitch!" Jimmy roared, grabbing the open collar of Darragh's flannel shirt.
Although Darragh was far stronger physically than his adversary, he didn't put up much of a fight when Jimmy pushed him against his beat-up Civic. The cigarette had fallen out of Darragh's mouth in the scuffle, burning a hole clean through the cotton t-shirt he wore under the button-down.
"Jimmy!" Catherine cried, attempting to pull him off, Darragh. "Let him go!"
Jimmy turned his attention to her, not wanting her to overhear the choice words he had for Darragh. "Get in the fuckin' car."
Unsure of what to do, Catherine took a step back. "Not until ya let him go."
Darragh did appreciate Catherine's attempt to separate them. What she failed to realize was that in the mess of it all, she was actually making it worse. In the event that an all-out fist-fight did erupt between him and Jimmy, the last thing he wanted to be worried about was whether or not she was in the middle. He did get the inkling though, that Jimmy wouldn't attempt anything more with her around, as he didn't want to scare her anymore then he already has.
If they were in Belfast, then Darragh would have a concern about her getting into a car with Jimmy. The lads at the safe house wouldn't put up with Jimmy knocking Catherine around, nor would he ever do such a thing in front of Fiona.
Darragh softened his voice. "Catherine, get in the car."
Without a word, Catherine did as she was told. Both Jimmy and Darragh watched her scuffle to the Range Rover. Inside, she glued her face to the window, afraid that if she looked away that's when hell would break loose. She couldn't hear the vulgarities being exchanged, but her imagination didn't have to run very wild.
"Ya think it's funny—putting her up ta shite like that?"
"The hell are ya talkin' about-" Darragh was more annoyed than indigent, by Jimmy attempting to rag-doll him against the car.
Jimmy wanted to punch Darragh in the mouth for asking such a stupid question. He wouldn't, only because Catherine was watching like a hawk from the car.
"If she speaks ta me like that in private, I can handle it. The fact ya encouraged her ta do it in front of the Kings could have fucked up any chance she has at movin' into a command position. Ya know damn well they don't take kindly ta disrespect being shown towards officers. I don't think ya would have found it so amusin' if the tables were turned."
Never in his life had Darragh met someone who was so un-self-aware as Jimmy.
"Yer fuckin' kiddin' me, right?" Darragh tried to loosen Jimmy's grip, but he only tightened it. "Ye filing charges fer insubordination proves that no, ya can't take her speaking ta ye like that in private. I'm not getting into this with ya. Ye run yer unit as ya see fit, and I will run mine as I see fit. If ya have an issue wit' the conduct of either myself or those in my unit, take it up with the ISU."
Jimmy didn't like Darragh telling him the truth. Before he did anything stupid, Jimmy let go of him and took a couple of steps back. "Letting her move over to ya was a fuckin' mistake. Yer gonna ruin her future."
On the contrary, Catherine had more of a chance now, but Darragh wouldn't dare say that out loud.
"Ya broke her, Jimmy. So, she came ta me. I'll make her forget ya even existed."
A/N: This chapter kind of got away from me. I had no intention of making it this long, but I was having a bit of fun finally developing Darragh and his relationship with Catherine. Should Jimmy be more worried about Darragh or Lorcan? I'd love to hear what you guys think. Also, a certain bloke from SAMTAC will be making somewhat of an appearance in the next chapter!
