Dessie was wholly surprised when he pulled up in front of his building and saw Catherine's car parked. He fully expected her to head back to Belfast after she left Forkhill without so much as a goodbye. Not that he had expected one in the first place, and he knew full well there wouldn't be a warm welcome once he walked through the door.
Tucking his pack of smokes into the chest pocket of his unbuttoned flannel, Dessie then grabbed the paper bag sitting on the passenger seat and the takeaway coffee from the cup holder.
"Here goes nothin'," he breathed, getting out of his car.
When he made it up to the third floor and into his flat, Dessie found Catherine curled up in the far corner of the couch absently flipping through channels on the television. It sank his heart when she didn't even look over at him as he closed the door behind him. She was wearing a pair of his boxers and the tattered Sex Pistols t-shirt she claimed as her own. What made Dessie sigh in relief was seeing the diamond ring still on her finger.
Taking a seat on the couch next to her, he set the cup and bag on the table. "Coffee and a scotch egg...consider it a peace offerin'."
Catherine placed the television remote on the arm of the couch as she turned her head to look at Dessie. He was still wearing the same clothes as yesterday. His hair didn't show the slightest hint of bedhead, and by how he smelt strongly of beer and cigarette smoke she guessed he had spent the entire night at the pub. Dessie could tell she hadn't slept a wink either, with red-rimmed eyes behind her glasses. Not to mention the dark circles which stood out against her pale skin.
Truth was, Catherine was touched by his gesture. Unfortunately, the vexation she felt towards him clouded her better judgment. As she shed the knitted blanket from around her shoulders, Dessie thought it was good a sign when she leaned forward to snatch up his offering. When she got up and started walking towards the kitchen, he jumped up to follow her.
"So that's how it's gonna be?" he asked, watching Catherine toss the bag into the garbage before dumping the coffee down the sink. When she kept on ignoring him, that only irritated him more. "Why are you bein' a goddamn bitch about this?"
Catherine stopped dead in her tracks on the way to the fridge. She spun around and placed a hand on the counter. Dessie instantly cursed his impulsivity to point out she was acting like a bitch once he saw the infamous O'Toole temper start bubbling to the surface. Her raging hormones weren't helping to keep her calm either.
Maybe he should have stayed at the pub to drink the day away after all.
"So ya think I'm a bitch, huh?"
"Don't twist me words; I said you're actin' like a bitch. You're makin' this way more difficult than it needs to be."
"I'm not makin' shite difficult here. The only person who is, is you, Dessie."
"Bollocks. All I'm doin' is tryin' to make you and the lads happy. You can't be mad at me for givin' the position to Kieran when just two weeks ago ya told me ya weren't sure if you were gonna keep at it once Danny's born."
"Bloody hell you're a daft bastard, so ya are. Me not wantin' the position once I have Danny isn't the point. And if you can't see that, then I can't help you."
Catherine let go of the counter and started walking out of the kitchen. Realizing she was giving up on the conversation without even bothering to explain when he didn't understand what was going on in her head frustrated Dessie to his core. She didn't get to say this was all his fault then just walk away. He felt he deserved an explanation, just as much as she deserved one.
When she walked passed him, he thought fast. Not thinking anything of it, he grabbed her wrist to keep her from heading into the bedroom where Eamonn and Sean were still sleeping.
What Dessie didn't anticipate was what he perceived as a harmless act, lit a fuse of deep repression in Catherine. Once she felt his fingers curl around her wrist, she panicked. All she thought of were the countless times Jimmy had done that. Before Catherine could realize what she was doing, she forcefully backhanded Dessie right across his sutured cheek.
"Fuck!" he cried, letting go of her wrist. "Son-of-a-fuckin' hell!"
His entire face felt as if it had been struck by lightning. The pain was enough to bring Dessie to his knees, and he curled into a ball to hide the fact he was near tears. Each suture throbbed almost unbearably with the racing beats of his heart.
Catherine slapped her shaking hands over her mouth as she watched Dessie wither on the floor. She couldn't believe she did that. She knew better than to think he'd ever do anything maliciously as Jimmy had.
"What the fuck was that for?" His voice broke while the tears disobeyed him and started to slide down his cheeks.
Unable to find her voice, Catherine could only think to grab a bag of frozen veggies along with a towel. As she wrapped the bag up, Dessie moved so he was sitting with his back against the cabinet. He quickly wiped his tears away with the collar of his shirt, hoping she didn't notice his wet cheeks. Catherine straddled his lap, placing the makeshift ice pack gently on his sutures.
"I'm so sorry, Dessie. I-I didn't mean it; I swear I didn't! I dunno what happened...I got - when you grabbed me, it scared me!" She stroked his hair with her shaky fingers. "I'm so fuckin' sorry."
Seeing fat tears bubble in her dull blue eyes, hearing the way her voice trembled - the reality of the damage Jimmy had done to her was difficult for Dessie to comprehend until now. Catherine wasn't living her life, she was simply surviving, and now he understood how desperately she needed him in her corner. She was strong enough to defend herself, but sometimes she needed him to fight for her.
And last night when his men ganged up on her, he hadn't done that.
That was the point she'd been trying to make.
Taking the frozen bag out of her hand, Dessie tossed it on the floor. He wrapped one arm around her and wiped her tears away with the other hand.
"No, I'm sorry. You're right; you not wantin' the position in a few months isn't the point. I was too focused on makin' the lads happy, I didn't stop to think about whether it was fair to you. Since you told me you were maybe gonna step back to focus your time on Danny, Eamonn, and Sean, I honestly thought you'd be okay with it."
Catherine placed her hands on his shoulders. "Why do they hate me so much?"
"They don't...hate you," Dessie said delicately. "They're just unnerved by your relationship with Jimmy."
She shook her head in disbelief. She was so tired of her past coming back to haunt her when all she wanted to do was move on. At one point she figured south Armagh would far enough from Belfast for the ghosts not to follow her, and it twisted her to think she'd never be able to get away from it.
"They don't trust me, but they trust Rory?"
"Again, you're twistin' my words. I never said they don't trust you and believe me when I say Rory will be dealt with." For some reason, hearing Dessie say that sent a chill up Catherine's spine. "They think Jimmy's skewed your sense of the cause is all."
"And you think so, too. Or else you wouldn't have made the point to say you can't have me underminin' your objectives."
Dessie wished he could have a do-over of the entire night. To Catherine, he looked like an asshole incapable of caring about her. To his men, he looked like a weak, pussy-whipped leader.
"I said a lot of shite things last night. It's not an excuse, but I was just so fuckin' done with the bullshit I was gettin' from everyone. I really don't believe you're undermindin' me. As a commander, I've worked with a lot of volunteers who think like you. I get you don't want to see things go back to how they were, and its minds like yours that'll maintain balance. But ya gotta meet me halfway here."
"Doesn't matter anyway because I've formally resigned."
Dessie cheekily smiled, amused that Catherine was doubling down on her hasty decision. He wouldn't have expected anything less from her.
"Too bad for you, I'm not acceptin' your shite resignation. If you would have waited, instead of just leavin' like a brat, ya would've heard that I'm movin' your da to operations, Seamus to trainin', you to finance."
"You're not pushin' me out of leadership?"
"Absolutely not. The lads agreed that if Kieran took over as adjutant, they'd be fine with you dealin' with the business side of it. But in return, I need you to be willin' to compromise with 'em on operations."
Catherine thought she was going to implode under the weight of the guilt now crushing her shoulders. Dessie hadn't thrown her off to the side like she thought he had when she tore up the copy of his court-martial summons. If she told him what she did now, she knew there would be fireworks.
Just as he had made this situation right, Catherine had to do the same.
"Can you compromise with us on operations?" asked Dessie, pulling Catherine from her trance.
She nodded. It was the least she could do.
Dessie kissed her hard, sneaking his hands up her shirt to caress her curves. When Catherine kissed him back with less enthusiasm, Dessie pulled away and eyed her carefully.
"We okay?"
Swallowing the words she desperately wanted to tell him, Catherine nodded again. She leaned forward, wrapping her arms tightly around him. Nuzzling her face into the crook of his neck, she melted.
Ignoring her intuition was something Catherine didn't do regularly. This time, it was crippling guilt that kept her from going straight home to start packing as she promised Dessie she would. Catherine needed to do it fast because she knew the lad Dessie had assigned to keep an eye on her while she was in Belfast would soon realize she had snuck away after dropping the boys off at school.
Parking down the street from the pub in Newry, she grabbed her pocket knife from the center console and got out of her car. As she walked, she tucked the blade into the waistband of her jeans. There was a chance Jimmy's enforcers would pat her down before she could see him, but that was a chance Catherine was willing to take.
When she pulled open the door and took a single step inside, she wasn't greeted with the same warmth she once had been.
"What are you doin' here, O'Toole?"
Catherine strode to the bar, leaning against it in hopes of coming off casual and non-threatening. John had once been a close associate of hers, though their relationship quickly fell through the cracks when she started dating Dessie. Now the man eyed her suspiciously as he dried the heavy pint glasses.
"I just wanna talk with Jimmy. I'm not here to start trouble, I promise. Dessie isn't even with me."
He set down the small towel. The conflicted expression on John's face told Catherine he had probably been given orders by Jimmy to not let her in the joint. She had a trump card, and she felt like shit having to use it. If she didn't, she probably wouldn't get Jimmy to agree to see her.
"It's about Eamonn."
John nodded. "I'll see what I can do."
Hearing that was enough to take some of the weight off Catherine's shoulders. When John took off to go find Jimmy, she took a seat on one of the barstools. A couple of minutes later, Catherine felt defeated when she saw Donny walking back with John. Reaching around to her back where she had the blade resting, Catherine unclasped it from her waistband and quickly shoved it into her boot.
Seeing Donny made it obvious Jimmy planned on treating her as if she weren't even part of the True army anymore.
As John went back behind the bar to finish up his work, Donny crooked his finger at Catherine, a silent signal for her to follow him.
Donny walked several steps in front of Catherine as he led her into the back office Jimmy used when he wasn't in Belfast. He stopped in front of the door and gestured for Catherine to enter first. Stepping inside, she found Jimmy sitting behind the desk.
Donny closed the door behind her.
A smug grin was plastered to his face as he got up, closing the space between them. Catherine had to hide her arrogance when she noticed the sutures closing up the small wound on his temple from when she knocked him out with his own pistol.
"Spead 'em," he ordered, kicking her feet apart.
Catherine obliged, spreading her feet shoulder-width apart and putting her arms up. She focused on a spot on the wall when she felt Jimmy put his hands on her. His groping was deliberate, and when his hands slid from her breasts to her ass, she tried blocking it out. That proved to be harder than she anticipated as he moved to her inner-thighs, running his fingers along her denim-clad slit.
She reminded herself it was almost over once he knelt so he could pat down her legs.
Jimmy knew Catherine well enough to check her boots, and sure enough, there it was. Sliding the knife out of her Dr. Marten, he pocketed it for himself.
Fucking prick, she thought.
Taking a seat behind his desk again, he pulled out a bottle of scotch from the bottom drawer, pouring himself a generous amount. It wasn't even eleven o'clock in the morning and he was already drinking. He was starting to lose control of everything going on around him.
"What's goin' on with Eamonn?"
"Drop this bogus court-martial against Dessie."
Jimmy was genuinely caught off guard. He wracked his brain trying to figure out how she knew about it when the summons hadn't been served yet. Wrongly, he assumed it was Seamus who told her. Promoting someone so close to Catherine to fill her old position was a terrible idea.
He snickered at her attempt to give him orders. There was something Catherine standing her ground, asserting her dominance, that always aroused him. Instead of intimidating him, all she managed to do was turn him on. Some of the best sex they've ever had happened while she was indignantly flying. Although, seeing her with that swollen belly protruding from underneath her t-shirt did a damn good job of subsiding any innate urge he felt to pin her down and remind her who's really boss.
"Or what?" he taunted. "What are ya gonna do? Keep Eamonn away from me? Try to steal another shipment of AK's?"
Catherine strolled over to the desk, placing both hands down before leaning forward.
No, she wasn't going to use the threat of keeping Eamonn away because that fate was sealed the moment he decided to break into her home, pistol whip Dessie, and carve his face half to hell. Nor was there another shipment to steal because the distribution deal with Misha made ONH the rightful owners of the hardware.
"If you drop the charges, you have my word I'll make sure you get out of Ireland alive when it's all said and done. If you don't, the offer is off the table. Before there's even a date for the trial, you'll be in the ground."
"And how do ya plan on makin' that happen without riskin' an execution order for yourself?"
Catherine looked straight into Jimmy's bitter eyes, unsurprised when she didn't see a single shred of humanity. Fourteen years too long she kept her mouth. She was done playing games.
"I don't think the Kings, or anyone else in the Ra, will care about what happens to you once I tell my Da and Dessie that I wasn't eighteen, let alone seventeen, the first time somethin' happened between us."
Raw terror swallowed Jimmy whole. "You're bluffin' You'd never tell 'em."
"Oh? Unlike you, I have nothin' left to lose by makin' our past public. I've lost everythin' because of you, Jimmy. My reputation both in and out of the Ra is shot, Darragh is dead, and my family is torn apart. Maybe if everyone knew how early it did start, they'd understand why I turned out the way I bloody did."
Catherine watched as Jimmy's jaw flexed and the creases in his forehead deepened. It terrified him, even more, to realize she was right. Catherine was far more dangerous than ever before - she could bring him down without lifting a finger or a gun.
"That's fuckin' bullshit," he snapped. "You came on to me that night!"
"I dare ya to use that defense to my Da. Somehow, I don't think he'll be able to get past the fact you just sat back and let his drunken sixteen-year-old daughter suck you off."
Jimmy panicked. "You tell a fuckin' soul about that, and I swear to God I will fuckin' end you, Catherine."
This time Catherine laughed and threw his words back in his face. "What are you gonna do? Tell Dessie and my Da about Ian? Guess what? They already know. You can't even tell 'em I touted on ya to the Kings because that was a failed attempt by Dessie and me to get you fuckin' exiled. You were never gonna lead Óglaigh na hÉireann - it was always Dessie. The reigns of the Irish Kings and you are over. If you plan to survive, I suggest you do as I say and drop the goddamn court-martial."
It was too late by the time Catherine realized she said too much.
The Beastie Boys echoed loudly in the garage as Dessie changed the struts on an Audi. He decided to work through lunch for the next couple of days so he could skip out early on Friday and head up to Belfast to help Catherine pack. He didn't mind being there alone - he preferred it. This way he wasn't being bugged every twenty minutes to help guide one of the new kids through something he could do with his eyes closed.
Dessie sang along with the song as he tossed the spent strut on the concrete floor, and pulled the new one out of the box. Popping it in, he had just started tightening up the bolts when he heard his cellphone start to ring. Dropping the wrench with a clatter, he wiped his hands on his shirt before picking it up off the top of his toolbox.
Cate was sprawled across the screen.
Phone in hand, Dessie dashed over to the stereo to turn off the music before answering.
"Hey, baby, what's up? I'm still workin', but I should be don-"
Catherine cut him off. The sheer terror in her voice cut through Dessie like a knife. It felt like the wind had been knocked out of him as she told him what happened.
All morning he couldn't shake the gut feeling that her being in Belfast without him was a mistake. What pissed him off the most was that there were supposed to be two men from Jonesborough watching out for precisely this.
He tried to calm her down but she was hysterical. "Catherine! Focus, baby. Where are you?"
"On my...on my way back to Belfast."
"Back to Belfast? Where the hell were you?"
"In Newry!"
Pulling the phone away from his ear, Dessie swore. When he spoke to her again, he gave her careful instructions.
"You need to turn around and get to Forkhill. Belfast is the first place they'll go lookin' for ya. Call me as soon as you get there."
