Chapter Text
Chapter 1 – The Shot in the DarkThe farmhouse was deathly quiet. The kind of silence that pressed on Maggie Doyle’s ears and made her stomach clench. She moved with caution, her service revolver drawn, the torch beam shifting faintly across peeling wallpaper and broken floorboards. Every instinct screamed at her to turn back, to call in backup, but this was her brother. This was Mick. And no part of her could bear to let someone else confront him first.Near the center of the room, her torch caught movement—a shadow, tall, rigid, waiting. The click of a hammer cut through the silence like a knife.“Mags,” Mick’s voice echoed, rough with bitterness. “You shouldn’t have come here.”Her throat felt tight, but she steadied her aim, her training kicking in. “Put it down, Mick. It doesn’t have to go this way.”He laughed bitterly, the gun steady in his hands. “Don’t you get it? It was always going to. You chose them. You chose him.”The mention of PJ twisted deep, but she didn’t lower her weapon. “I chose the law. I chose to do the right thing. Please, Mick. Don’t do this.”For a moment, his face softened almost imperceptibly, and she glimpsed the brother she once idolized, the boy who stuck up for her in the schoolyard. But just as quickly, the cold, angry man returned. His finger twitched on the trigger.And then—“Drop it, Mick!” PJ’s voice split the air like thunder.Mick spun, wild-eyed. The gun went off.The bang was deafening. Maggie felt an explosion of pain rip across her upper arm and cried out, staggering backward. The world smudged at the edges; heat and blood filled her sleeve.“Maggs!” PJ roared, charging forward. In an instant, Mick was slammed against the wall, the gun ripped from his grip. The two men struggled ferociously, but PJ’s fury burned white-hot. With sheer strength, he forced Mick down, pinning him to the ground. His cuffs clicked into place with harsh finality.“You’re finished,” PJ growled through clenched teeth, breath ragged.Maggie’s knees buckled, and she collapsed against the floorboards, clutching her arm. Her vision dimmed until PJ was suddenly at her side, hands trembling as he pressed down on her wound. His eyes were wild, haunted.“Stay with me, Mags. You hear me? I’ve got you. You can’t leave me now.”She forced a weak smile through the pain. “Bit dramatic… You always… did like making an entrance.”But PJ couldn’t laugh. Not now. Sirens wailed faintly in the distance, growing closer, but he barely registered them. All he saw was her pale face, all he felt was the sick dread of nearly losing her.As the ambulance crew took over, PJ held her hand tightly until they forced him to let go. Watching her stretcher disappear into flashing lights, he swore one thing silently to himself: Mick Doyle would never hurt her again