As soon as Catherine entered the house, she made a b-line for the living room. Her heart instantly dropped into her stomach when she saw Darragh lying on the sofa. He looked rough. Black and blue, a laceration to the cheekbone. He held a bloody towel to his side, just below the ribcage.
Despite his battered appearance, it was a good sign to see him still smiling and cracking jokes like usual. She could tell he had a broken rib or two, by how he winced every time one of the guys made him laugh. Liam was there, with three other men from her unit. When they realized Catherine had arrived, the joking quieted down. Liam moved out of the way so she could sit on the floor beside Darragh. Grabbing his hand, she kissed his split knuckles over and over. For the first time since hearing the news, she began to cry.
"Hey," Darragh wiped her tears away with the tab of his thumb. "I'm still alive. You can't get rid of me that easily. No more tears, yeah? Besides, this is nothin'. I had worse beat downs by the UVF."
That wasn't exactly what she wanted to hear. Looking around and realizing that she had seen every man in the room in the same condition as Darragh, reality hit Catherine hard. It was the first time she stopped and thought about the violence that overwhelmed their lives. This time they were lucky that a few fractured bones were the extent of it. There was no telling what would happen the next time the loyalists managed to get their hands on him. It scared her too much to think about life without Darragh. Much to Catherine's dismay, he had pissed off all the right people on the opposite side of the wall.
As she brushed Darragh's hair off his forehead, Catherine was pulled from her thoughts when she realized something he said didn't make sense.
"Did you say the UVF did this to you?"
"Aye. They nabbed Sully and me comin' out of a pub on the Shankill. Had a tip on an informer. We think they may have followed us from St. Peter's."
Not for a second did Catherine doubt Darragh's. It just didn't add up. Unlike Darragh, Catherine had seen just how brutal the UVF could be in the streets. Prison fights were a lot different than Belfast street justice.
"Do you have your rosary?"
Darragh looked at Catherine like she had three heads. He ran his tongue along his lower tip, tasting metallic, as he pulled his rosary out of his front pocket. Catherine had to keep her emotions in check as he dropped the clear, bloodstained beads into her palm. She clenched them in her hand, offering Darragh a warm smile. She kissed his forehead and excused herself into the kitchen, saying she'd fetch him ice for his swollen eye. Patrick followed her.
Even though her back was turned to Patrick as she moved around the kitchen, she knew he was there.
"It wasn't the UVF, Da. I remember what they did to you."
Patrick had wasted eight years in Long Kesh. He had missed countless birthday's and Christmas'. He had even broken her nose during a brutal fight when she was seventeen. Out everything he had put his family through, nothing made Patrick feel like the world's worst father than hearing Catherine admit she remembered when he had been on the losing end of an Ulster Volunteer Force beat down. She was seven when it happened.
Like Patrick, Catherine's nightmares never went away, either.
Lighting a cigarette, Patrick watched her pour a double shot of whiskey. "Aye. Any clue as to who it could be?"
Catherine froze for a moment as she twisted the cap back on the bottle. Internally, she was screaming Jimmy's name, but she couldn't tell Patrick about her suspicions. If she did, that would require her to admit that she and Darragh had lied, and Jimmy was only doing this to terrorize Catherine into telling the truth. She refused to give in to the man who was trying to destroy her life now that she was beginning to thrive. After putting the bottle away, she grabbed the glass and ice pack.
The lie was bitter on her tongue. "Must have been the IPLA. Dragged them to the Shankill to make it look like a loyalist attack. Anyone else wouldn't have hesitated to kill him.
"Youse almost ready to take those bastards out? Everyone's done with their shite."
"Planned for next week." She paused, not wanting to tell Patrick that she would be the one pulling the trigger on Carrigan. But, he deserved to know why she would be gone for a few days following. "I'll be active on that operation."
Patrick filled with a contradicting swell of pride and shame. A decent man would do whatever they could to protect their children from a life of political bloodshed. In the O'Toole household, it had been nothing but encouraged. Patrick could still vividly remember the day he received a letter from Olivia, where his wife informed him that they were in trouble. When asked by her year two teacher what she wanted to be when she grew up, their Catherine Mary replied with, "in the Cumann na mBann." Patrick wished she had stuck to that aspiration.
There was nothing for him to say. So, he just pursed his lips and offered her a small nod. Catherine took that as him saying "I'm begrudgingly proud."
That was enough for her.
In the living room, Catherine placed the ice on Darragh's eye as he swallowed the whiskey in one gulp. As badly as he wanted to spend the next several days in a booze and narcotic haze, he couldn't. It didn't matter that he had a couple of broken ribs, she had a doctor appointment in the morning.
"This is what I get for leavin' you naked and sleepin' in my bed," Darragh said, self-deprecatingly.
"That's not true." She did her best to reassure him. Though she had been disappointed when she awoke to find him gone, Catherine knew the cause came before all else. That included her. When Darragh got a call, he had to leave. "I think of it as, occupational hazard."
Darragh removed the bag of ice from his eye. He looked up at the guys who were crowding his living room. Appreciating their worry for him, all he wanted was to spend some alone time with Catherine. He politely asked them to leave, assuring they'd see him tomorrow.
The other men in their unit said goodbye to Catherine and Darragh, with Patrick and Liam giving her kisses to the cheek. She promised Patrick she'd be fine as he felt uncomfortable leaving his pregnant daughter and beaten significant other.
Once everyone was gone, the couple sat in silence. Catherine ran her knuckles along Darragh's jaw, the stubble scratching her soft skin. She hated watching him struggle to breathe. With each throbbing breath he took, the anger boiled in her blood.
"Be honest with me." Catherine licked her thumb and scrubbed dried blood from his thick eyebrow. "Do you think it was the UVF?" She felt bad asking, thinking it made her seem skeptical of Darragh's honesty, but the elephant in the room needed to be addressed.
He slowly moved into a prone position, even though it hurt like Hell. With his feet planted on the floor, Darragh reached for the bag of ice and hugged it against his left side. Looking straight ahead, he told Catherine he needed her to just listen and not say anything.
"When I first met you, you didn't ask me why the RUC wanted me. When I was convicted of murder, you never questioned whether or not I did it. Even now, you don't ask about what I'm up to. With that said, the only reason I'm tellin' you what I'm about to is because you've kept your nose out my business."
Darragh knew she wasn't going to like it, but he admitted that he had been involved in a pub brawl the previous week. Along with a few other True Army lads, he had beaten a former member of the UVF, thinking they were still active. As much as Darragh wanted to believe it was Jimmy, he honestly didn't think it was.
Catherine on the other hand, she still had her doubts. She knew Jimmy better than anyone in Belfast and the timing of it all seemed far too coincidental.
After dosing him heavily with painkillers, Catherine got Darragh to bed. She held him in her arms, rubbing his back and occasionally kissing his forehead. He fell asleep listening to the steady beating of her heart. To some extent, she had expected to be a complete wreck in the event anything happened to him. The shock hadn't quite worn off and she attributed that to her impulsive thinking.
Slipping out of bed, Catherine leaned down and kissed Darragh on the mouth. Grabbing her shoes and bag, she headed to the Short Strand.
Catherine stormed into the back room of the pub. She gave no acknowledgment to the other men in the room as she rounded the desk, closing the distance between her and Jimmy.
"You son-of-a-bitch. You almost had me fuckin' fooled." Tugging Darragh's bloodied rosary out of her jacket pocket, she slammed it down. "Did you think slashing his face would be too obvious?"
Jimmy's eyes nearly budged out of his skull when he realized the screwup. Jumping to his feet, he snatched it, shoving it into his pocket to keep the lads from noticing what it was. He ordered the men out of the room, needing a private space to talk with Catherine.
"It was the UVF who went after him. That dumb-shit messed with someone he shouldn't have. Also, who the fuck do you think you are? Barging in here and accusing me of doing anything to Darragh."
The outright refusal to accept responsibility and just admit what he did, came as no surprise to Catherine. She shouldn't have been frustrated or upset. This was how Jimmy operated.
Though, knowing that didn't make it any easier to deal with.
How in the world did Fiona put up with it? she wondered.
Realizing the lads were most likely listening to their conversation from the other side of the door, Catherine took a soothing deep breath. Running her fingers through her hair, she took a seat in one of the chairs.
"I've been doing this long enough to know when a killing or a beating is paramilitary or staged to look like it was. Your boys fucked up, Jimmy. If it was the UVF, they would have stapled that rosary to Darragh's chest. And, it's a wee coincidence that not even a month after you threatened him, this would happen. Just tell me the truth. For the first time in twenty-fucking-years, tell me the truth."
Sitting back down, Jimmy pulled the rosary out his pocket and tossed it back to Catherine. She caught it mid-air, wrapping it around her hand.
"It wasn't me. That's God's truth. No way would I have sent out punks to the job for me because honestly, I do want him dead."
She snorted, shaking her head. "You're so pathetic. You know that right?"
Jimmy ignored Catherine's jab, going straight for one of the drawers of his desk. Catherine watched quizzically as he rustled around. When he slapped a stack of envelopes down in front of her, her eyes budged. Nobody—especially Jimmy—was ever supposed to see those letters. She ran her fingertips along her handwriting.
"You read these?"
He nodded. "I wish I hadn't."
"Well, that's what you get for goin' through my belongings. You find shite ya don't wanna see."
Catherine didn't know why she felt bad for Jimmy. Though she had written fairly unkind words about him, they were all true. There wasn't a single lie gracing those pages. Jimmy pulled the first letter from the envelope and forced Catherine to read it aloud.
She knew he was only doing it to make her feel uncomfortable.
"As the day fades away and the night slips upon me, I find myself clinging to my prayers for comfort. Every night I pray to God that He will keep you in His arms and out of harm's way until we can finally be together again. Sometimes, it seems so unfair that they're keeping you longer than they said they would. I realize though when you love a rebel you cannot expect life to be anchored."
He ripped it away from her, handing her another one, claiming it to be one of his favorites.
She read it:
"I'm lonely and overwhelmed with this emptiness in my heart. Just remember that I love you and everything about you. You have no idea what I'd give to kiss your lips, feel your touch. I long to hold you and feel your sweet caress. We both knew our friendship would grow from the first day we spoke. But, neither one of us could begin to imagine the love we would both feel now. It's not dramatically exploding or thunderous in our hearts, but rather, it's slowly growing into a beautiful relationship that only you and I understand. You are my soul mate, my best friend, my true love."
Hearing her read her own words only made Jimmy more indigent. Shoving another at her, Catherine broke down into tears when she realized which one it was. She was humiliated that Jimmy had read it.
"Please don't make me read this one."
"Why?" He patronized.
"I was seventeen when I wrote this! And, I didn't even send it to him. I didn't send any of these to him!"
"But is it true? Was that how you felt? Do you still feel that way?"
She was afraid to answer that question. There was a part of Catherine that still loved Jimmy for the man he used to be, and she would never do anything to intentionally break his heart. It upset her to see how much pain her teenage ramblings were causing him, but at least she was being genuine.
Her hesitation told Jimmy all he needed to know. "So you were just full of shite then? When you told me I was the only man you wanted. And you regret us shaggin'."
"What you read in these letters, doesn't diminish what you and I had at all." Catherine reached for Jimmy's hand. To her astonishment, he didn't pull back. "Darragh and I have a complicated past—we met each other at the wrong time in our lives. But, you and I came together when we needed each other most, and it was amazing and it was beautiful. At the time, you were the only man I wanted, nor do I regret you being my first."
There was only one person in the world Jimmy every felt like he could open up to. The idea of being vulnerable still felt foreign to him, but there were far too many questions he needed answers to. If he was going to look like a sap, Catherine was the one whom he trusted to look like a needy sap in front of.
He struggled to get the words out. Feeling embarrassed that he needed to ask in the first place. "Please tell me you meant it when you said you loved me."
The tears that broke from Catherine's eyes weren't the result of her pregnancy hormones. Her heart genuinely ached for the broken man. It all made too much sense. Jimmy was the way he was because he desperately craved true love and intimacy. Unfortunately for him, it was his high standards and icy persona that drove the possibility of that away. Then, he lashed out whenever he felt as though he were losing control, driving it further from his grasp.
Standing up, Catherine moved so she was sitting on his lap. She gathered his face in her hands, pressing her forehead to his.
"Of course I meant it. You have no bloody idea how much you mean to me, Jimmy. Whenever I needed you, you were there without fail. I love you, so much, and nothing will ever change that. But, we're not meant to be together. We gave our relationship everything we had, but it didn't work because the people we're supposed to be with, have been right in front of us the entire time."
In true Jimmy fashion, he disregarded most of what she said. Only hearing what he wanted to hear.
"If you say you love me, then why can't you give this another try? You're pregnant with our baby."
She stood firm, telling him she wasn't leaving Darragh.
"Why are you being selfish and stubborn, Catherine? When you love someone, you don't just fuckin' give up on them. You keep tryin' to make it work."
He was telling her to keep trying? She had been the only one trying to make it work for nearly four years. Then it hit it her—his idea of love wasn't even in the same universe as hers. That was why he and Fiona and managed to stay together for so long. They had similar views on it.
"You think the definition of love, is having someone stick by your side no matter how poorly they treat you or how badly they take advantage of you." She stopped for a moment, looking back on the years they spent together. "During my confusion over Darragh, I was untrue to you. I made you believe that was how I interpreted loved too because I stayed through all of the shite. So, I'm sorry. I'm sorry for making you think that was the kind of love I wanted, and for turning around and blaming you for it falling apart when you were the one being genuine."
Jimmy smacked her hands off his face, turning his head to the side so he could focus on a spot on the floor. His heart was pounding with a fury of emotions. He was angry at her for making him believe he had found the woman he could spend the rest of his life with. He was angry at himself for having put his hands on her in the first place.
"At least the truth is in the open air now. It was a pleasure being nothing more than a place holder until Darragh was released." Jimmy threw Catherine's words back at her and it stung worse than a paper cut.
"That's not fair." Catherine defended herself. "If I meant that, I would have sent those letters."
"Could've had me fooled. Seems the two of you got together awfully damn fast after we ended things."
"I don't expect you to understand nor is it any of your business, but Darragh and I wasted a lot of time pretending we felt differently about each other. You need to stay out of my relationship with him. Just let it be."
He rolled his eyes. "If I do recall correctly, between the ages of five and thirteen, you sabotaged every relationship I was in."
"I did not!"
"You did, a chuisle," Jimmy took a chance, placing his hands on Catherine's protruding belly. She didn't stop him. "You pushed your way into being the center of my life, and I let you stay there. No one came before you. No one'll ever come before you."
Looking down, Catherine watched his large, strong hands cradle the bump. She had a moment of weakness. "Don't make me regret this." Reaching down for her bag, Catherine dug through it, pulling out the sonogram from her last scan and handed it to him. "I'm willing to make a compromise. For as long as you play nice with Darragh, I'll keep you in the loop about my appointments. Once the baby's born, if there's still no drama, you and I can maybe, quietly arrange something. But I swear to all that is Holy, Jimmy if I find out it was you and not the UVF behind Darragh's attack, or you start any sort of turmoil, I will leave Ireland so fast it'll make your head spin."
Jimmy held the sonogram, fat tears ballooning in his eyes. He sniffed them away. "That's our baby?"
"That's our baby," she said, hoping this wouldn't come back to bite her in the ass.
