Catch Him

by Doyle, S

  “I won’t. If you don’t break mine,” she answered him. “Again.”

  “I’m so damn sorry.”

  Her face softened and he could see it. Actual forgiveness. He probably didn’t deserve it, but since he was such a softy he would take it anyway.

  “You done moping in here?”

  He smiled. “We’re Irish…despair is our bread and butter.”

  “Well I’m only three-quarters Irish. I’m ready for a little more happiness and a lot less despair. Come back to bed.”

  It was a command he had no desire to disobey.

  * * *

  Mary poured water into the coffee pot and hit the button. It was early. Probably too early to be up, but she hadn’t been able to sleep thinking about Garrett’s return. She needed to be stronger. She shouldn’t have been so afraid about seeing him. How was she ever going to recover, fully recover if she still treated him like he was a bogey man?

  It wasn’t even a fear he might hurt her again. She knew she could live through that. She had lived through that. It was the sudden transition from charming fiancé, to possessive husband, to monster that frightened her the most.

  The night it happened he’d been drunk and hopped up on cocaine. Not that it had been an excuse. It just contributed to his loss of control.

  But the signs had been there before he laid a hand on her. Clues that only had surfaced after she said I do.

  She was a lawyer at Huntley and Partners in the DC office when she first met Garrett. He’d taken one look at her and come on strong. He’d been handsome and flirty and while she didn’t know if dating the boss’s son was the best idea for her career, over time he’d worn her down.

  Worn her down because she’d been looking for… something.

  They had dated for six months, and in that time she’d never once seen him drunk. A couple of drinks at dinner. Some beers at a barbeque they had attended with some of her friends. He’d always been so solicitous, so thoughtful of her wishes, her needs. He’d been the picture of what every young woman imagined she would want for a husband.

  When he proposed, she knew it had been quick but he’d seemed so sure of them as a couple.

  She’d wanted to have that kind of belief.

  After the wedding, the first sign of his behavior shift was when he started drinking every night. Not a big deal, just a shift from how he’d been. Then came the news he wanted to transfer back to his father’s office in San Francisco. A place where she knew no one, had no friends. When she would complain about that, he would simply tell her all she needed was him.

  They argued about her working. They both agreed now that she was married to him, she couldn’t continue to work for his father. Any advancement in her career would feel like favoritism. However, he didn’t want her to find a job at all. Insisted that she needed to focus on taking care of him. There were outbursts where he would yell at her at the top of his voice, a tone he’d never once used with her while they were dating.

  It was as if she’d dated one man and married another.

  Call after call, Dec would ask her how she was doing. If she was settling in. If she was happy.

  Call after call, she would lie. She didn’t even know why, other than it was embarrassing to admit she’d made such a colossal mistake. And of course there was always this idea that she could fix it. Make it better.

  After all, Garrett loved her. He said it all the time.

  The night it happened she was late getting home. She had defied his wishes and gone on a job interview. Something she was sure she could convince Garrett would be okay. Yes, money wasn’t an issue for either of them, but she’d never felt comfortable not having some kind of purpose. Besides, a job might lead to making friends. She’d taken an interview with the Public Defender’s office, something she thought would be an interesting challenge.

  When she’d told him where she’d been, he’d been furious. Furious and out of control. That first hit, a backhand across her face, had been as shocking as anything she had ever known in her life. It was as if her brain couldn’t process what was happening, which had prevented her from running away immediately. She’d needed that moment to figure out her husband, the man she’d married, had just hit her.

  A moment that cost her a cracked jaw, two broken ribs, and a fractured right arm.

  All the while he shouted and screamed at her that she was his possession. She would do what he told her to. When he told her to do it. His very own toy and he was going to play with her any way he liked.

  She’d had to wait until he passed out before she could crawl, literally crawl out of the house, and down the street where she called for an ambulance.

  Mary remembered every inch of that journey. Trying to get to her feet, trying to breathe through the pain in her side. All the while wondering, what had she done? Who had she married? How could she not have seen what he really was?

  You know why.

  Mary blinked and suddenly the memory was gone. The coffee was done and she poured a cup and sat at the kitchen table, wondering if she was ever going to admit the truth. To herself at least.

  She heard some noise from the front of the house, and a minute later she knew he was standing at the doorway of the kitchen. She always knew when it was Flynn. She couldn’t tell if it was his smell or his essence or something inside her that just knew him.

  “Morning, Mary.”

  “Flynn,” she said tightly.

  They hadn’t been doing well, she realized. Not since he came with Dec to see her in the hospital. If it was possible, that moment had been even worse than the night of the attack. There had been no hiding anything from either of them. The bruises were fresh and raw. The cast on her arm hard white plaster. Her jaw didn’t have to be wired shut, but it hurt to talk.

  Dec had gone ashen. Flynn had cursed for a solid half hour. In the end she told them she just wanted to go home.

  Her home.

  Since then, anytime Flynn was in her presence he was walking on eggshells. Like she was some little china doll that had been fractured and glued back together and he didn’t want to risk breaking it again.

  “Okay to have some coffee?”

  Like that. Like he needed her permission to pour himself a cup of coffee because he didn’t want to take any action that might upset her.

  “Sure.”

  He poured a mug full and topped it off with milk, then made his way to her.

  “Okay to sit down?”

  “For fuck’s sake will you stop doing that!”

  He jerked back, surprised by her outburst. Why wouldn’t he be? Mary was sweet and kind and soft spoken. She didn’t curse or swear. She didn’t fight back. She didn’t stand up to bullies—she let the men in her life do that for her.

  Suddenly she was overcome with self-loathing, and she wanted to take that out on someone. She wanted to take that out on Flynn.

  “Mary…” he began softly even as he took a seat.

  “And don’t do that. Don’t talk to me in that voice you’ve been using. It’s your Mary-is-fragile voice and I hate it. It makes me feel foolish, and quite frankly it makes me want to hit you. How about that?”

  He sipped his coffee and then set it down carefully. “I’m sorry.”

  Same tone, she thought. So she leaned over and pushed his mug off the table. The coffee spilling. The mug cracking into pieces on the wood floor.

  “You’re angry,” he said calmly. “You’re acting out. It’s understandable under the circumstances.”

  “No, you can’t have any coffee. And no, I don’t want you to sit at this table with me. Go away, Flynn.”

  He stood then. Again slowly and carefully, as if any sudden movements would cause her pain.

  He leaned over to pick up the broken mug.

  “It’s my mess,” she told him. “I’ll clean it. Just go.”

  Then she saw it. A tick in his jaw. A single sign that her atrocious behavior was getting to him.

  “Mary, I’m trying to underst
and why it feels like you’re blaming me for what happened. It’s been weeks and you barely talk to me. You haven’t texted me at all. And now this. I want to… I want to be what you need to get through this. Tell me how to do that.”

  “Why?” she asked him.

  “Why what?”

  “Why do you feel the need to help me get through anything?”

  He looked astounded and again hurt by the question. “I’m your friend.”

  “No, you’re Dec’s friend. I’m just his little sister, remember?”

  It was as if she sucker-punched him. He physically jerked back at her words, and it was if there was a sudden understanding about what was actually happening between them.

  “You do blame me,” he said softly.

  She flinched. It was petty and it was wrong. She knew it. The worst part though was that it was also true.

  “Go away, Flynn.”

  He turned and started to leave the kitchen, but stopped. His back still to her. “Your Irish comes out when you curse.”

  “And what of it?” she asked, as if that had been the stupidest thing he could say.

  “I like it.”

  Then he left, and she was left with that and broken mug and coffee to clean up.

  Chapter 18

  Sinead came down the stairs and started searching room to room for Declan. He’d left her with the promise of fetching some coffee, but he’d failed to deliver on that promise. She made her way back to the kitchen, which was empty, found a fresh pot and helped herself.

  This house, now that she’d had a chance to explore, was truly amazing. Two big wings, six bedrooms, gleaming hardwood floors throughout. She’d counted no less than five fireplaces. The red brick front too was impressive. It made her feel like she was staying in a castle of sorts.

  A castle Declan had built for his sister. To keep her safe and protected while he went on his missions. She could see now how Declan could let himself get shitfaced drunk at a wedding he didn’t believe in. Knowing his sister’s fate was suddenly out of his control.

  Shaking off those thoughts, coffee in hand she made her way through the house and found what appeared to be a library or study. Poking her head inside she saw Declan, standing behind a desk with another man, Jillian across from him.

  Three of them.

  “Okay, it occurs to me you guys named your fake company Tricorp Group. That’s a little on the nose, don’t you think?”

  The other man with Declan, who Sinead assumed was Flynn, groaned and glared at Jillian. “I told you that was a stupid name when you came up with it.”

  “It’s not as if we’re running marketing campaigns or TV commercials,” she countered. “Who the freak cares what our shell corporation name is?”

  “Just saying. It is lame and I’m not the only one who noticed. Hi, Sinead. I’m Flynn.”

  Sinead shook the man’s hand. He was taller than Declan and darker, with a buzz cut that made her think former military. Handsome in a different way than Dec, but still someone any woman would look at twice if she passed him on the street.

  Okay, maybe three times.

  “Nice to meet you.”

  “Dec says you’re ours now. Welcome.”

  Ours. That felt different. Declan told her there were few people in this world who knew who he was, what he did. She was starting to understand the significance of what being one of those people meant. It was a commitment to him. It was a commitment to all of them.

  “Thanks. I assume you’re putting together a plan.”

  “It’s fairly straightforward,” Declan said. “We’ve routed Garrett to a location where we’ll… deal with him. Then I’ll take you to my townhome in DC and show you the city. You’ll love the Smithsonian. Probably all of them, but if I had to guess, Air and Space will be your favorite. Then we’ll have dinner and start discussing our future.”

  Sinead’s jaw must have dropped because Jillian instantly started to snicker.

  “What’s so funny?” Declan asked her.

  “You’re about to get crushed,” Jillian muttered.

  Sinead wasn’t listening. The buzzing in her head was too loud. “Are you seriously suggesting that I’m going to sit here while you go deal with the guy who followed me to Mary? You do know I’m a cop.”

  “Was a cop,” Declan reminded her.

  “What I mean is, I know how to do two things, protect myself and shoot people. Particularly bad people. I’m not a civilian here.”

  Declan walked around the desk and came to her, putting his hands on her shoulders. “My love, we’ve got this covered. This will be handled with very little drama and then I’ll be back.”

  Sinead jutted her chin out. “I’m coming with you.”

  Declan shook his head in a way that made Sinead want to deck him all over again. “There’s no need.”

  “There is a need. For me. Declan, I’m responsible for this somehow. I have to see this through. How was I responsible, by the way? I know he didn’t tail me…”

  “There was a tracker on the car,” Jillian told her.

  “Shit,” Sinead said, mad at herself for not thinking of something like that. Except at the time all she’d really known was that Garrett was lying about what was in the safe. She wasn’t prepared for how big this whole game really was. Covert operations, international bad guys.

  “Don’t beat yourself up,” Declan told her. “I didn’t even think to check myself until you mentioned that you hadn’t flown here, but had driven here instead. Jillian confirmed the presence of the tracker and moved the vehicle to a secure location. We’ll be there to greet Huntley when he arrives.”

  “Right,” Sinead said. “We’ll be there. The four of us.”

  Declan sighed and Sinead conjured memories of what that sigh meant. Sadness. Disappointment.

  “Here it comes,” Jillian muttered to Flynn. “Wait for it.”

  He turned his head to scowl at Jillian but then quickly focused his attention on Sinead.

  “Love, Garrett and his father won’t be coming alone. They’ll have men. Professionals. While I appreciate your support, I’m not prepared to put you at risk. I just got you back. The three of us can handle this. Then we can put this matter behind us and think of our future.”

  Sinead looked over his shoulder to Jillian. “Is he kidding me with this?”

  She shrugged. “’Fraid not.”

  “Will you two stop it?” Declan said, clearly getting annoyed. “This is serious. Sinead, I’m not putting you in harm’s way.”

  “Check it, Dec. You’re not putting me anywhere. I’m accompanying you to your rendezvous to meet the asshole who put a tracking device on my car, using me to get to you and Mary. Note, I don’t like to get used. I know what I’m doing with a gun and I’m going.”

  “I believe we’re about to get into another argument,” he said calmly.

  She reached up to cup his face. A face that was now tight with anger and most likely concern. “Dec, I get it. You need to be the hero. The defender of all. Certainly the defender of women everywhere. But that also makes you sort of a sexist asshole when I’m telling you I can handle my own shit. You don’t want to be a sexist asshole, do you?”

  His jaw ticked. “I’m not a sexist asshole.”

  “You sort of are,” Jillian confirmed. “But if you let Sinead go with us, maybe there is a chance you can be reformed.”

  Sinead smiled and patted his face. “That’s right. There’s a chance for you. You need to reach for that chance with both hands. Jillian, do you have a sufficient number of weapons you can load me up with?”

  “I can most definitely can hook a bitch up,” Jillian laughed. “Let’s go.”

  “You’ll see,” Sinead told Declan, patting him gently on the shoulder. “You’ll like being a feminist.”

  Which had Flynn busting a gut and Declan looking very much like a man who still wanted to argue but who had no argument left.

  The two women left the library together to head toward Jillian�
��s room. Apparently, she always traveled fully stocked for any occasion. Including confrontations with abusive ex-husbands.

  “Can I ask you something?” Sinead said, hating the lingering bit of jealousy that remained anytime she was reminded of Jillian and Dec’s former relationship. “That was why you two couldn’t make it work. Wasn’t it? He wanted you to hang back when things got dangerous.”

  “That was exactly why. Once I got into this work I wanted to push every limit I had. Dec wanted to wrap me up in cotton balls and put me in a closet somewhere. Don’t get me wrong, I get it. He has all his mommy issues, and with Mary that was his role. It just wasn’t a good fit for me.”

  “Did you love him?”

  Jillian laughed, which Sinead thought was a good sign. “Uh, no. Love is not something I do. It’s filled with all that… emotion and heartsickness. No, Dec and I were about… well, I’m sure you know how he is in…”

  “Yeah. Let’s not go there,” Sinead said, stopping her pretty quickly.

  “Right. But I think that was the other part of our problem. When I met Dec I would have said he was just like me. Hard. Focused. No time for things like love. I knew he had a soft spot for Mary, but that was it. As I got to know him better I realized he wanted more than that. Certainly more than I had to give. Not that he ever asked. You’re probably not going to believe this, but I’m really happy he found you. Happy you’re willing to give all the mushy stuff.”

  Sinead did believe her. Jillian was clearly a smart, strong, beautiful woman but there was also something about her that said don’t touch. Don’t get too close.

  Sinead thought about what Declan had told her about why he’d asked her out that first time. Because she’d looked at him with open interest. Her feelings out there for him to see. Not hidden behind any masks.

  It was the fact she’d made herself vulnerable to him so early, so easily that allowed him to do the same with her. Something he probably didn’t realize he even wanted.

  “I don’t know if I’ve ever known someone who needed to be loved as much as he does,” Sinead told her. “He makes it easy.”

  “See, there. Right now. That look in your eyes. It screams mushy stuff. Frankly, I think it makes most women look ridiculous. Maybe not so bad on you.”