Here it is! This is probably my favorite chapter out of all of them, honestly. It reaches pretty deep. I am super excited for what's about to happen!
"Tha fuck did ya get us into, Jem?" Doug asked, combing his hands through his hair after Jem spoke. He had been seeing the blonde from the bar and he was excited that it was getting serious. He was on the right path to having his own family and he had hit another roadblock to deal with.
"If we do this, he's done, Dougie. I didn't have a choice." Jem's eyes traced over Kate as she lay in the bed, her chest rising and falling slowly as she slept. He yearned to sit next to her, pull her in close and guard over her. It was his job. He loved her and wasn't going to let her be harmed anymore if he could help it.
"Did'ya stop an' think that maybe this shit is suicide? Sure, he'll be out of our fuckin' lives, because we'll be fuckin' dead." Doug shook his head and stared at the ground.
"I can't let her get hurt again…" he trailed off and looked down at the silver cross around his neck, holding it up for Doug to see. "She means too damn much ta me. If I have ta die for her ta live a happy, carefree life, so fuckin' be it." Doug sighed and patted his shoulder. He knew that Jem's feelings reached that deep for her. He was kind of relieved to hear him say it. It was like he had finally accepted his feelings. He patted Jem's shoulder and sighed. Doug's dreams were close, yet Jem's were even closer. It was time to make it up to him, time to repay him for Walpole. "I'm in," Doug stated, staring at Kate. They both sat in silence. Jem didn't want to talk about anything else. "We can't tell her."
"I know," Jem breathed, stretching his arms above his head. He laid the silver cross back down on his chest and yawned, peering outside.
Jem helped Kate to her front door before heading off to meet Fergie. "Where are you going?" Kate asked after he gave her a tight hug and kiss on the cheek. He was almost to the car before he answered her.
"I'll be back later. Gotta go handle a few things," he answered, opening the car door. "Get inside, get warm an' for fuck's fuckin' sake, call Liam," he spat, shutting the ringer off of his phone as Liam called him again to make sure she had gotten home safely. He sat down in the car and looked at her as she stood in the doorway, leaning against her crutches, her face heavy with sadness as she realized he wasn't staying. He felt guilty as Doug pulled away. He knew he should have been in there taking care of her. Liam was too busy to take the time to care for her in her state. His eyes followed the shapes of the buildings as they passed by.
"Ya know if she ever finds out she'll be devastated, right?" Doug asked, steering them down the road to the ice skating rink. Jem gave a curt nod of his head. His throat was too heavy for him to speak.
The skating rink was as dead as it could be. All of the ice and snow meant kids could play outside, not that it had been used often anyway. In the parking lot were two other cars. Doug recognized one as Fergie's, but he had a hard time placing the second one. "Ya ready?" Doug asked as he put the car in park.
"Yeah," Jem answered, adjusting his weight to get out of the car. The clouds hung low over them, light gray, dreary, threatening to spit out snow at any second. They walked in together, huddled next to each other, against the wind. The door made a loud squeak as Jem opened it. Inside, four guys were sitting on the bleachers before Fergie.
"Ah, tha men of tha hour," Fergie sang with a clap of his hands. "Gentlemen, meet tha finest damn criminals that Tha 'Town's ever raised." A man on the bleachers snorted as he looked between the two of them. "Take a seat boys, I was jus' runnin' down tha game plan." They took a bench on the front row, a few yards away from Fergie and far enough away to monitor the other men. "As I was sayin' Jem an' Doug are headin' inside. They're gonna answer a fake call an' make it inside tha vault ta get tha cash. Ya get in, get tha shit an' get tha fuck out."
"Sounds simple," a man mumbled.
"What about security?" Jem asked, hunching down onto his knees, elbows holding him up. "They're not gonna let us jus' shove money in tha bags an' tell us ta have a nice fuckin' day."
"Not a problem. You're probably gonna hav'ta remember some addresses an' shit ta scare 'em, but these guys are real fuckin' pathetic. They're girl scouts compared ta you an' Doug." He nodded at Fergie's words and let his eyes drift off to the tattered cloths of awards hanging from the rafters.
"How much is tha score?" Doug asked, rolling his hand. He wanted to hear the important stuff. He wanted to know how much he was risking his dreams for.
"'Bout ten grand a piece. But, with tha situation at hand, you two are gonna get a little less. Consider it extra security," Fergie answered with a slight smirk. Doug nodded, trying not to let his anger get the best of him. He wasn't sure how Jem was handling it so well when he was close to exploding. "I got your uniforms in my car. Tha keys to a squad car are back at my shop. You boys'll head in tha south entrance an' hit up tha vaulted room while you all will stake out tha tunnels ready to receive them in an ambulance they keep stationed there. No prints, no names, nothing…"
"An' what if shit hits tha fan?" Jem asked, cutting him off. "This ain't like knockin' down a fuckin' goddamn mini mart. What if we get ambushed?" Fergie rubbed the top of his bald head and looked at each of them.
"Every man for himself," he answered, stopping at Jem's eyes. Doug let out a rush of air. His stomach felt like a tar pit, thick, oozing, rolling, and bubbling. Hearing that made him anxious. He was trying to figure out how it wasn't going to turn into a bloodbath.
"I'm not goin' back ta fuckin' Walpole," Jem snarled. "I'll kill every motha fucka I hav'ta, but I am not goin' back there."
"Do as ya please, my boy," Fergie countered. Doug looked over Jem's face as he spoke, trying to make sense of his thinking.
"You're fuckin' serious," Doug stated, his eyes looking over Jem's set jaw and heavy brow. "Tha fuck is up with you?"
"I'm not goin' back there, Dougie. I can't an' I won't."
"Well, ya know if they find ya an' ya don't surrender that they're jus' gonna pump ya full of bullets. Ya know that, right?" He nodded, causing Doug to rise to his feet out of anger. Adrenaline, fear, and anger pumped his system into overdrive. "Jem, you're fuckin' stupid."
"Oh, I'm fuckin' stupid?" Jem repeated, standing up to look him square in the face. The words were making him hot. It never took much to make him lose it.
"Yeah."
"An' why's that?"
"You're gonna get your dumbass killed. I know you are. I'm tellin' ya as your best fuckin' friend, if we get jammed up, you're gonna turn your-fuckin'-self over to tha police. An' that's a goddamn order."
"Tha fuck I am, Doug."
"Jem, ya better listen ta me, ya stubborn fuck. Kate loves you. It may kill her ta watch ya go back ta Walpole, but at least she can get ya out this time."
"You don't know what it was like in there!" Jem barked, feeling the same old fears creep over him.
"No, maybe I don't. But, I do know that it'll break my fuckin' heart ta bury my best friend. Don't make me bury my brother, Jem." Doug's eyes began to rim with tears. "How am I supposed ta tell Kate you're dead?"
"By then it'll be all over national news, so ya won't hav'ta worry about tellin' her." He swallowed hard and squared his shoulders at Jem.
"There's more ta this fuckin' world, jackass. There's more beyond your fuckin' walls that ya put up ta keep us all out. Don't Kate an' I matter at all?" He held up two fingers in front of Jem's face and he put up two more. "Your sister an' niece. They don't count either?" Jem's eyes remained locked on Doug's. "Four fuckin' good ass reasons ta live." Slowly, Jem pushed one of Doug's fingers down.
"Kate doesn't fuckin' count when she's happily with someone." It was all Doug could do to stop himself from Jem senseless.
"Oh, don't give me that guilt trip denial bullshit," Doug spat, his throat raspy and dry with anger. "Boyfriend or no fuckin' boyfriend, ya know you're fuckin' it for her. If ya didn't know this shit, ya wouldn't have been bangin' her fuckin' brains out these last few weeks." Jem dropped his head as he silently let the words sink in. It was hard for him to control himself, but he was serious. With a loud exhale he rubbed his fighting Irishman tattoo with his hand, his eyes locked with Doug's. All he could think about was his constant battle against the world. The tattoo was no coincidence in his life. He was always fighting. Always. He fought every day to stay alive, as happily as he could. He was tired of it. He was tired of fighting to make people care about him. Tired of fighting his feelings. He felt old. He felt alone. Kate tried her hardest to understand him, but he had been changed forever. He just wanted the pain to stop, the hurt to go away. He wanted to be like the people he saw in the city, happy, smiling, no care in the world. His entire life felt like nothing but a fight and he was ready to let it win.
"I'm tired of my life, Dougie," he stated with a heavy heart. He looked at Doug's brown eyes and stared hard. "Maybe it wouldn't be so bad with me gone, ya know?" Doug shook his head, his eyebrows contorting in sadness over his brother, his mouth dropping into a frown.
"Don't say that shit. You're havin' a rough time. We all got times like that, Jem. Ya can't-"
"I jus' know that if I was ta die tomorrow, I would be outta tha damn picture. You could finally move an' get married an' have ya dream life. Kate could finally go be happy with someone that isn't gonna fuckin' break her heart all of tha damn time." Doug put his hands on his hips. He stood staring at Jem and raised a finger like he was about to scold a child.
"You're my fuckin' brother, James Coughlin. I would do anything for ya. Jus' like ya did for me. An' I will put all'a my shit on hold for ya."
"An' I would do tha same. That's why I gotta do it." Doug sniffed to try and subdue the tears and pulled Jem into a hug.
"I love ya, even if ya are one fucked up motha fucka," he breathed, patting Jem's back. "If this is what ya want an' that's what happens, I understand. But, I'm not gonna let ya go on a murderin' killin' spree. We're gonna do this shit an' we're gonna get out an' move on with our fuckin' lives." Jem nodded, his jaw tight. He didn't want to break down in front of Fergie and Doug of all people.
"I love ya, too, Dougie."
"Alright, that's enough of that shit," Fergie snapped as Doug and Jem stepped away from each other. "We got plans ta fuckin' make. Ya got addresses and names ta memorize. Ya got fuckin' codes ta know." He shoved papers in front of them and motioned for them to follow him. "Come get ya fuckin' uniforms an' get ta work." At the car, Fergie thrusted to zipped up, black garment bags at them. "We do this shit on Sunday at 2. It's after tha big fuckin' weekend an' they'll be loaded with fuckin' cash. They'll already be in tha tunnels. Shouldn't take ya more than 20 minutes for it all." They each nodded. "One of ya can get tha keys later this week an' I'll show ya where tha car is parked." They nodded again and returned to the car.