Crossmaglen, Northern Ireland
"Looking good, Dess," teased Kieran.
Fresh from the shower and dressed, Dessie joined the group waiting in his living room. He held Danny in one arm, balancing the bottle in the infant's mouth with his chin as he scrolled through the long queue of messages on his burner.
Not wanting to make a fuss of his new appearance, Dessie ignored Kieran.
Jack couldn't help joining in on the slagging. "You look a stone lighter."
"I feel a stone lighter."
"That's got fuck all to do with your hair being gone." Hopping off the couch, Connor patted Dessie's flattening belly. "It's because you've been hitting the boxing gym since you trapped a poor lass into marrying you. Gotta be looking good if you wanna keep her around."
Dessie's cheeks glowed scarlet at Connor's admission. That was the last time he told Connor anything in confidence.
Fiddling with a lighter in the hand which now had only four fingers, Kieran sensed Connor made Dessie uncomfortable. He shot Connor a death glare. "Youse wanna get down to business? Or keep chit-chatting like a bunch of old birds?"
Silencing his phone, Dessie slipped it into the back pocket of his jeans. He readjusted Danny. "Where's Paddy?"
"Paddy's right here."
Spinning around, Dessie came face-to-face with Patrick. He was standing in the archway between the kitchen and living room, a bag of cheese and onion flavored Tayto in his hand. A smirk stretched from one of Patrick's ears to the other when he saw his son-in-law was sporting a new hairstyle. Patrick knew his daughter wouldn't be as fond of it as everyone else.
Jack crossed an ankle over his knee, lighting a cigarette. "Mind telling us why you've summoned us all here when I could be steaming and bollocks deep by now?"
"It's ten o'clock in the morn'," sneered Connor.
Jack shrugged. "Yeah. So?"
Connor decided not to waste his energy.
After handing the bottle to Aidan, Dessie patted Danny's back to burp him. Surprised by the sudden interest in fatherly responsibility, Kieran, Connor, Patrick, and Aidan exchanged amused glances. They each bit the inside of their lips, desperate not to let a sarcastic comment slip and discourage the behavior.
Once he laid Danny down in the playpen and checked on Eamonn, Sean, and Kieran's two youngest boys in the garden, Dessie took a seat on the edge of the coffee table.
"What do youse think about hitting two of Jimmy's fellas?"
A collective silence blanketed the room.
Kieran broke it. "Like who?"
"Sheehan and Gallagher."
"Commanders?" Patrick rolled the bag closed and set it on top of the bookshelf. "Popping off two of his commanders while he's got my wee daughter Stateside isn't a brilliant idea."
Dessie didn't look at Patrick. He was afraid if he did, he'd lose his diluted temper. Still coming down from the cocaine bender, Dessie was on edge. The last thing he wanted to do was give his men a reason to think he couldn't handle the stress of being chief of staff anymore.
"And she's my wife," reminded Dessie. "In the grand scheme of things, Sheehan and Gallagher are small potatoes. If we put a couple of bullets in 'em, it'll be enough to send Jimmy a message, but it won't spark an all-out row."
Kieran leaned forward, furrowing his brows. As second-in-command, this was the first he was hearing of Dessie's change of heart. "Did the deal he make with us on the Kings and Sambel fall through? Is he not gonna let us set up in Belfast or run the smokes and booze through Newry?"
Stoic, Dessie fixated on the bookshelf Patrick stood beside. While everyone else tried to navigate their confusion, Patrick noticed Dessie's attention on something. Glancing to his left, he saw it. A photo of Darragh holding a newborn Sean, and it clicked.
"Catherine told you, didn't she?" blurted Patrick.
Snapping to reality, Dessie turned his attention to Patrick and nodded. "Aye. She told me almost a year ago, but I didn't believe it because she said it was Liam who told her. He gave me this letter that I just got around to reading. There it was in his own fucking words — if something happened to him, it was them."
Kieran asked, "What are youse talking about?"
"Darragh," answered Connor. "I need a fuckin' drink."
Connor leaped off the couch, storming straight into the kitchen as he left everyone muddled. From the fridge, he grabbed a can of beer and chugged.
Liam told Connor years ago. Ignoring the baseless accusation was all Connor sought to do, not wanting to ruffle the feathers of an internal feud when he was trying to climb the chain of command. Hearing it from Dessie made him feel complicit because he hadn't taken Liam seriously.
Crushing the empty can, Connor tossed it into the trash. He gathered six more, handing them out once he was back in the living room.
"You okay?" Dessie worried about Connor.
Too often they called upon him to do the work no one else wanted to dirty their hands of. Dessie wanting to snag the two True army men from Belfast meant he'd be the one taking the lead the torture so they could get the answers they sought.
Connor nodded to Dessie's question. He cracked open his second beer, collapsing on the couch next to Aidan.
"Why would the Kings wanna get rid of Darragh?" Jack was too new of a volunteer to remember much of Darragh. He was still only running Dessie's errands when Darragh started hanging around Crossmaglen more often.
"Because they thought he was becoming too reckless," said Aidan. "A liability."
Danny fussed, so Dessie picked him up. "Before you earned your beret, Jack, Darragh, and I set off a car bomb at the courthouse in Belfast. Jimmy persuaded the council that Darragh would lead a coup. They didn't want any conflict, but Darragh was getting the lads riled up by saying we weren't doing enough… wanted him out before he single-handedly dragged the six counties back to 1972."
Kieran pointed to Connor and Aidan. "These two mixed and packed the explosives. How come they didn't end up on the shortlist to be clipped? Or even you, Dess?"
"Because they weren't the ones shagging Catherine," said Patrick,. "Gotta understand that Jimmy had it out for Darragh the moment the fella lied about being Eamonn's da. Catherine told me she thinks the plan to have Darragh axed happened after he beat the piss outta Jimmy for gettin' too close to her."
Kieran vented, "Does that mean we can expect to be burying you in two years? Because that's how long it took Jimmy to get Darragh."
"That's why I wanna get the motherfucker first. But we've gotta be smart about this because he's still got a loyal army behind him. The fuckin' Kings won't even take him out… they know it'll be genocide against anyone who does."
The five men fell silent again, weighing the potential body count.
"It'll be a bloody mess. Literally," said Patrick. "We'll have the peelers even further up our arses once the bodies hit the pavement on both sides."
"Aye, and I understand the concern, Paddy. We only need to keep Jimmy around long enough to get the Kings outta the way and set up in Belfast and Newry. If we let it leak that he helped organize Darragh's murder and then have Catherine be the one to pull the trigger, no one would bat a fucking eye."
Patrick hated to admit Dessie was making a sound argument. "Alright. But where do Sheehan and Gallagher fit into this entire mess?"
"I'm so glad you asked. The night Townsend was killed, it was those two gobshites who…"
Jack interjected, "I'm sorry, but I can't take you fuckin' serious when you're bouncing the wean."
Connor, Kieran, Patrick, and Aidan had to agree. A baby in his arms seemed to take away from the merciless aura he had.
A quick glance down at Danny, Dessie only set him back in the playpen because he was asleep. Picking his beer up, he jumped right back into business. "Those gobshites were the ones who came to mine at four a.m. to tell me it was Christopher who shot and killed Townsend. The lad was from Armagh, but he would've known to stay outta the Great Eastern unless someone convinced him otherwise. Catherine told me she thinks it was them who lured him there on Jimmy's orders and then encouraged him to start shite. We still can't figure out why the Kings didn't want him as UVF chief of staff anymore."
"Darragh went to Maghaberry for killing Townsend's wee daughter, so the Kings knew he would be the first person they went after regardless of who shot the bloke," said Kieran. "Their hands were clean of his blood, because it looked like perfectly timed retaliation. None of us questioned it."
"And poor Christopher was just collateral damage," added Aidan.
Connor set his beer on the table. "Do you want me and Aidan to set up for our visitors in Forkhill?"
"Aye. I want those fuckers hangin' by the weekend."
Las Vegas, Nevada, United States
Catherine jiggled a pair of dice in her hand, unnerved.
There were way too many chips on the table to count, though at this point in the game the bets were well over four-figures. Jimmy stood beside her, one hand on the small of her back, and held a much-needed cigarette in the other. He did the best he could to talk some esteem into Catherine, but with so much on the line he knew nothing he said mattered.
"You've got this, a chuisle; haven't rolled a single seven yet. You can do it one more time."
"Don't bleedin' jinx it," she muttered under her breath. Her stomach fluttered and somersaulted looking at the crowd gathering around their craps table.
"You're right," he said, blowing out a chestful of smoke. "I'm sorry," his hand traveled a little south, giving her ass a solid pat and squeeze, "just give me something other than a seven, baby, then we'll cash out."
Breathing in through her nose and out of her mouth, Catherine closed her eyes. Without so much as a second thought, she tossed the dice hard enough to hit the back wall of the table. She only opened her eyes when she heard everyone burst with cheers.
"I did it?!" she squealed, jumping up and down in her stilettos.
"Eight!" the beaming dealer called out.
A smile plastered to Jimmy's face, he reached out and placed his hand on her hip. He was careful not to burn a hole through the soft material with his cigarette as he pulled her closer to him. Driving his fingers through her blown-out hair, Jimmy laid a kiss right onto her mouth. She wrapped her arms around his neck, melting into him as his tongue slipped passed her lips.
"Y'all are too cute." They broke their kiss, and Catherine was less than thrilled to see the Southern belle who had her eyes on Jimmy for the better part of the night. "How long have y'all been married?"
Catherine almost told the bottle blonde wearing too much makeup and not enough clothes they weren't married, and Jimmy was all hers. But he was too quick.
He kissed Catherine's temple. "Six years."
The flirtatious stranger gazed at Jimmy one last time, disappointment washing over her face. "That's too bad. You're a very lucky woman."
When she walked away, Catherine was stunned.
"You broke her wee heart. She was ready to invite you up to her room. Since when do you turn down guaranteed sex?"
"What can I say? I'm irresistible to the American lasses." He polished off the rest of his whiskey. "It's the accent. As soon as I speak, within a ten-mile radius panties just hit the floor." Catherine shook her head. "And I'll turn down guaranteed sex if it means sleeping next to you fully clothed."
"Such a sweetheart, so you are. How much do you think we won?"
Picking up one stack of chips, Jimmy counted. He handed it off to Catherine, then picked up the other two. "There's gotta be at least three grand here."
"Not too bad. Considering we put five down, I can live with that."
"What do you say we cash these in and then head upstairs? I saw a bottle of ridiculously over-priced champagne in the minibar we can pop."
Her hands full of chips, Catherine took the first step towards the cashier windows. "Yes to cashing out, but I don't think opening a bottle of champagne together would be such a good idea."
Together, they strolled through the packed casino.
"Why do you say that?"
When they got to the window, they slid the chips to the cashier. As the woman counted them out, Catherine rested her back against the counter. "Because we both know what'll happen if we do."
Jimmy pursed his lips and nodded.
"And you don't want to?"
Catherine shrugged. "What do you wanna do?"
Standing in front of Catherine, Jimmy rested his hands on her hips. He glanced at the cashier, who was busy fanning out their crisp hundred-dollar bills on the counter. Catching her fragrant perfume, the clean, floral notes were sophisticated yet sexy, leaving Jimmy far more intoxicated than whiskey ever could. He lowered his mouth to her ear, speaking lowly so only Catherine heard him,
"If you come upstairs with me, I'll eat your pussy like it's my last meal, and I'll tease that little clit of yours until you're begging for mercy."
Catherine's heart exploded, and she buried her face in his chest to hide the fact she was beet red. He rested his hand on the back of her head, gripping her hair at the roots as he pressed a kiss to the top of it. Catherine needed a second to collect herself, wanting like hell to let go of her inhibitions and have one last torrid night with Jimmy.
Picking her head off his chest, Catherine thanked the cashier when she finished. Jimmy gathered the wad of money and put it in his pocket.
"How do you wanna split this? Eighty-twenty? Fifty-fifty?"
"It's all yours. I'm the eejit who rolled a seven on a fifteen-hundred dollar bet. Buy something nice for yourself and the boys."
Catherine's vodka-soaked brain betrayed her. All she could think about was how his hair felt between her fingers, or how his tongue tasted of whiskey and tobacco. Last night she found the strength to walk away, but now she wasn't so sure.
"On second thought," she said. "I'd like to pop that bottle."
Sitting outside in the garden, Dessie nursed a Coke as he watched Eamonn and Sean play on the swing-set he built for them. The baby monitor sat in the middle of the patio table, and Dessie could hear the last shrill notes of Twinkle Twinkle, Little Star, playing from the mobile on Danny's crib.
Behind him, the backdoor closed. He glanced over his shoulder to see Connor shuffling down the pathway. An unlit cigarette dangled from the corner of his mouth, and in his hands were two cans of Killian's.
Taking a seat across from Dessie, Connor set a can in front of him and lit his smoke.
Dessie moved the Coke over so they could use it to ash into, then cracked open the beer. "Not in a rush to get back to yours?"
"Fuck no," jeered Connor. "I may crash here tonight. Deirdre and kids are drivin' me fuckin' mad, so they are. Countin' down the bloody days until the shites are back in school."
Taking a sip of beer, Dessie couldn't argue. "You know there's always room for you here, Con. With Cate gone, I could use a wee cuddle."
"Fuckin' arsehole," muttered Connor, shaking his head. "I gotta ask only because I care about ya, but you doin' okay with her gone?"
Alarm bells of things not being right at home started going off when Dessie asked Connor for the dime bags of cocaine. He knew it wasn't any of his business to ask for whom or what they were for, though Connor had an inkling they'd all gone up Dessie's nose.
"Honestly?" asked Dessie.
"Yeah, honestly. Give me the fuckin' truth. I understood why ya needed the coke, but I gotta say the haircut is makin' me kinda worried."
Jutting back into the chair, Dessie scrubbed his hands over his face. "I'm losing me fuckin' mind with her being there with him. I know Fiona said she'd keep an eye on 'em, but there's only so much she can do."
"You think there's still somethin' going on between 'em?"
"I don't know what to think anymore." Dessie lit a cigarette. "God forbid something happens… I can't be mad at her."
"What you did was shitty, but c'mon, Dess, two wrongs don't make a right. If she does anything with Jimmy, that sin is on her."
"It's not just about what I did with those two broads. I found out that Jimmy got her pregnant around the same time I was arrested, and he pushed her into going to England to… have it taken care of. She told me she had a miscarriage before she made it to London, but just the thought of her being up the duff — I blamed her. I called her every name I could think of because I wanted her to feel just as lousy as I was about it. What does that say about me?"
"It upset you. It would upset any bloke to hear that shite about his wife."
"That's not the point, Con. She was just a fuckin' kid."
"When you had Rosie, you were younger than Catherine. You and Eilish were just kids, too."
"Eilish and I were both seventeen. Jimmy had to have been well into his thirties and he knew fuckin' better than to be shaggin' her without a johnny. The things I said to Catherine were fuckin' awful. If she ends up back in his arms, it's because I pushed her there."
Connor dumped his cigarette into the Coke can, then shoved his hands into the pocket of his sweatshirt. With a fifteen-year friendship under their belts, he knew Dessie wasn't sabotaging his marriage on purpose. He was too much like Catherine. The moment shit goes sideways, they turn self-destructive because to their pea-brains its much easier to throw their hands up and say, "fuck it," than deal with the problem.
There was no amount of booze, pills, cocaine, and indiscriminate sex that could fix this cluster fuck.
All Connor could do is offer his best advice, and hope Dessie was sane enough to heed it.
"The heels." Jimmy swallowed hard, relieving the sudden bout of cottonmouth. He shed his jacket, sitting on the edge of the bed. "Leave 'em on."
The way his voice thickened, coupled with his eyes darkening with pure lust, Catherine's nerves fried. She locked eyes with him, excited and intimidated by how he stared at her.
Reaching around to grasp the zipper of her dress, Catherine hoped she didn't look like a contorted idiot as she dragged down the small piece of metal. Easing her arms out, she then pushed the material over her wide hips until it pooled at her feet. Stepping out, she kicked it aside.
Jimmy curled and flexed his fingers. From head-to-toe, inside-out, Catherine was perfect. His eyes explored her body, salivating at the sight of the lace-trimmed stockings hugging the beautiful curves of her thick thighs.
All he could think about was running his tongue along her sweet-smelling flesh and burying his face into the sinful place he craved most.
Catherine had other plans.
Once she took a step forward, Jimmy's heart raced. Catherine fell straight to her knees in front of him. She ran her hands along the tops of his thighs, spreading them apart so she could situate herself between them.
Jimmy asked her a question, but his mind was so fogged it came out in Irish. The way she was caressing his inner-thighs, it was driving him crazy.
With gentle fingers, Jimmy moved Catherine's hair out of her face. He found his English tongue, "What are you doing, baby?"
Instead of answering him, her hands ventured to his belt. She freed the leather strap, and he got the message loud and clear. Opening his trousers, she pushed them and his briefs down just enough to free his cock. His diamond shaft filled her hand. Her thumb smeared the sticky bead of pre-cum on the velvet smooth head. Jimmy grunted, petting her hair.
Catherine wrapped her lips around him. The inside of her mouth felt as he remembered. Wet. Warm. Heavenly.
When her tongue slides up and pressed into the hole at the tip, Jimmy dug his fingers into her scalp. Catherine sucked slow; her motions drawn out. He didn't remember her being this good the last time she went down on him. Pushing those thoughts from his mind, Jimmy fell back on one elbow, deciding instead to enjoy himself.
Her head swam listening to his wanton mewls.
"That's it, baby," he encouraged, squeezing his eyes shut and squirming when Catherine found the perfect rhythm of sucking and hand swiveling. "… just like that."
Jimmy thrust his hips upward in a desperate plea for Catherine to relent her excruciatingly lazy pace. She swallowed him whole without warning. The fullness of having him so deep made her gag in the best way.
When he opened his eyes, he bit his lip. In the soft light, he could see the shiny sheen of saliva as it dribbled down her chin and neck into her cleavage. Big, blue, watery eyes gazed back at him. Catherine had been on her knees countless times for him, yet it always had the same effect. He couldn't understand how someone who had once been so wholesome, could act so filthy.
Catherine eased Jimmy out of her mouth, tracing her glossy, lipstick smeared lips with the head of his cock. She could taste the salty trail he left behind.
"Do you like it when I suck you off?" she asked, running her tongue along the underside. "Or does Siobhan do it better than me?"
When she swiveled her hand along his length, Jimmy grabbed Catherine's wrist. "I fucking love it when you do. And there's no comparison between you and Siobhan. I should warn you; say her name again and you'll see where that gets you."
A half-smirk tugged on the corner of Catherine's mouth as she accepted his hand to help her get up onto her feet. Jimmy darted up, tossing Catherine onto the mattress. Her jovial laughter filled the humid room while he shucked his shoes and stripped. He pulled down Catherine's thong, then took off her bra.
Catherine's stomach knotted with nervous anticipation as Jimmy crawled onto the bed. Her legs fell open for him to settle between.
"Always such a good girl for me," he purred. Gripping the back of her neck, Jimmy crashed his lips on hers.
They kissed with sloppiness as years of pent up tension and frustration frantically clawed at the surface. Hot, wet tongues tangled. Teeth clashed while lips were bitten. Cheeks, chins, and necks became targets. They mauled one another with an undissolved passion neither expected.
With every brush of their tongues, every soft squeeze Jimmy gave her breast, Catherine fell further in a pit of despair. There was nothing that could stop her at this point. She'd almost forgotten what it was like to have meaty hands so grope her body. Jimmy made her feel the one thing Dessie couldn't. Desired.
Because with Jimmy, she wasn't just a wife and mother. She was a thirty-year-old woman with a healthy appetite for sex and she felt like she could breathe again being indulged.
It was Dessie's hands, mouth, and cock she craved. But if he would cast her off into the shadows over his unwillingness to see the forest for the trees, that was a relationship Catherine wanted no part of.
Dessie had called her a monster because he didn't believe her about her first miscarriage. And she believed him. Why wouldn't she? She made her money selling weapons she knew would end up in the hands of violent criminals and cost innocent civilians their lives. She set up Ian — a dear friend — to have his head turned into pink mist.
As Jimmy sank his teeth into her breast, Catherine stopped fighting who she is.
Rising to his knees, Jimmy ran his index finger down her throat, chest, belly. Her being in the black stockings, it was the sexiest thing he's ever seen. And those red-soled stilettos. Jimmy would let Catherine walk all over him so long as she was wearing them.
He wasted no time rolling a puckered nipple between his fingers. She groaned with sublime pleasure, arching her back as she tried focusing on how he was also tracing random shapes along her inner-thigh. His touch didn't tickle, but it was enough to send a shiver down her spine.
Catherine quivered when he brushed his thumb along her inner-lips, kneading the slick flesh. Her hips rolled, and a hiss escaped from her clenched teeth when he found her clit.
"So sensitive," he breathed.
She couldn't force a single word from her throat. Catherine let herself go, melting under Jimmy's sweet fondle. His thumb brushed over her clit once more, this time earning himself a wail. Her back arched again, pushing herself against him.
"You like that, baby?" Catherine nodded. "You want more?"
Jimmy didn't let Catherine answer before he dropped onto his stomach. Her breath hitched when her brain registered the warmth of Jimmy's tongue devouring her swollen clit. The flicking of his tongue and the gifted work of his finger working her g-spot left Catherine wriggling. He was crawling out of his skin, listening to her greedy little whimpers. He loved seeing how her body twisted to the brutal assault he brought upon her.
Jimmy took his time pushing Catherine to the brink of her climax.
"Jimmy… Oh fuck," she panted, threading her fingers through his hair. "Fuck… you're gonna make me… I'm gonna..."
Yeah, you are, he thought.
Catherine squeezed her eyes shut. The stars behind her lids were on the cusp of bursting into supernovas. Her fingernails clawed at his scalp and her thighs cuffed his ears. Jimmy wrapped his lips around her clit and sucked, halting when he felt the familiar quake of her legs.
"You motherfucking asshole!" roared Catherine, frustrated by her lack of release.
Jimmy rose to his knees again, smacking her breast. "You're so fucking selfish. Don't worry, I'll get you off, brat."
Catherine darted a hand out, eyeing him as she raked her nails through his coarse pubic hair. Taking his steel shaft in her hand, she worked him. Jimmy's head snapped back as he closed his eyes. He grunted, loving how she jerked him off.
"You're gonna make me cum if you keep doing that," he warned.
"Maybe that's what I want. For you to cum first and frost me like your wee Pop-Tart." Catherine bit her lip to keep from bursting with laughter. "See, I'm not always a selfish brat."
Lifting her leg, Jimmy took the Louboutin heel off her foot and tossed it to the floor. He took off the other. "I'm not gonna waste a perfectly good load makin' you a wee Pop-Tart. A Twinkie… that's more my style."
Wearing nothing more than a t-shirt that was twice her size, Catherine curled up next to Jimmy. She rested her head on his shoulder, her legs tossed over his lap. His hand was on her hairless thigh, the tips of his fingers caressing the soft flesh.
The local news hummed in the background, neither of them paying it much attention as they indulged their sweet tooth with sugary treats they bought from the vending machine down the hall from their room.
It was seven o'clock in the morning, though they hadn't slept a wink since their first night. The thick drapes kept the sunlight out, and Catherine decided on spending an indolent day with Jimmy.
"You know this is a no-smoking room, right?" she muttered, ripping into a packaged Twinkie.
"Aye," Jimmy lit up a cigarette, anyway. "I'll pay the fee, I don't give a shite." He blew smoke rings into the air, glancing over at Catherine as she took a bite of the yellow sponge cake. "Save me half of that, will ya?" Looking him square in the eye, Catherine shoved the entire Twinkie into her mouth. "Oh, that's attractive."
She said something, but Jimmy couldn't understand her with a mouthful of cake. Once she swallowed, she took a sip of her Diet Coke and took the cigarette from Jimmy.
"What's on the agenda for today?"
Jimmy tossed an arm behind his head. "Fuck… gamble. Figured we'll crash the pool."
Pursing her lips to blow out a stream of smoke, Catherine raised her eyebrows. "Sounds like a solid plan to me." Hearing her phone ring on the nightstand, she reached over and grabbed it. Her stomach twisted, turning queasy when she saw the name on the screen. Tossing the thin sheet off, Catherine hopped out of bed. "It's Dessie. It's three in the morn' back home, I have to take it… could be about the boys."
Darting straight for the bathroom, Catherine shut the door behind her and flipped on the light. As she answered the call, she closed the lid of the toilet and sat down.
"Is everythin' okay?" she asked.
Back home in Crossmaglen, Dessie spent another night tossing and turning. He couldn't get comfortable being all alone in bed, and with a conscience as heavy as the one he was carrying, the nightmares came back in full force. Sitting out in the garden for fresh air, the wind felt refreshing after having woken up in a cold sweat. He took a long drag from his smoke, thankful to hear Catherine's soothing voice.
"Aye. The boys are sound. Just wanted to check-in and make sure you're doin' alright."
The guilt crashed on Catherine's shoulders. "Everything's grand. I miss youse."
For a moment, the line went quiet. They both hated the fact it seemed they had nothing to talk about despite being thousands of miles apart. Dessie didn't want things to keep going like this. He knew Connor was right, that he had to come clean and allow things to get worse before they could get better.
He didn't want to tell her over the phone, but he couldn't keep it on his chest any longer.
"Listen, Cate, there's somethin' I need to tell ya." Dessie took a breath. "After you left for Cali, I went to this wee party in Dundalk and…"
