Page 65 of Dublin's Danger Dancer

“Everyone makes mistakes,” protests Tanya.

“When life gives you lemons, make lemonade,” says Freddie pulling out a lemon from his robe and hurling it towards me.

I can’t help what’s about to happen. I reach my hand back to the wall, feeling damp moss between my fingers as I retch my guts up into a bed of red geraniums sitting below the windowsill.

Chapter Seventeen

It had taken nearly forty-five minutes to convince Liam to let me go home. No one wants to vomit in front of the guy that made them cum multiple times, I’d explained. Reluctantly, he’d let me go.

Countless messages from Fergus appear. “9:00 am. Normal place.”

Our normal place was a rooftop of an abandoned building rarely touched by sunlight close to the dockyards.

Worry eats at my insides as I get ready. I hadn’t slept at all thinking about why I didn’t take that shot. My thoughts were a tornado of regrets and what ifs. And Liam’s face was at the centre of the tornado.

I know I’d have to explain why to Fergus. A plethora of excuses ran through my mind. The truth was, I’d looked up at him and been unable to pull the trigger.

The reason for my hesitation was less open to analysis. I felt like it was closed off behind walls that even I couldn’t see behind.

The sun is in my eyes when I get off the bike. I park a little away from the meeting place.

My hair smells like Liam’s hands. My skin smells like Liam’s hands. My whole body reeks of him. I look out over the dove grey river. I want to throw myself in. To cleanse myself.

I don’t recognise this version of me. Maybe I’d become so used to taking on identities, playing a role that my true identity was forever lost. Only Harry’s tombstone stood as a reminder that I’d ever lived at all.

I walk into the building shielded by plastic cover over the door. I pull back the cover stepping over several dusty terracotta bricks.

This is an old Georgian home. The wooden staircase has been ripped out and replaced with one made of solid cement. I climb the steps one after the other, already envisaging Fergus’ disapproving face. By the time I reach the rooftop, I’m gasping for air. Instead of climbing the stairs. I’ve run up them as if a ghost was chasing me.

I open the door to the roof. Fergus is standing with his back to me, looking out over the church’s spires of Dublin. The yellow cranes looming large, reminding me I let my fellow guards die here, just a few hours ago. That I’d put a criminal before them. And after he’d ended their lives, I’d given him my body - again.

I shudder at the thought, walking towards Fergus. He turns on his brown leather heel. His hand is raised, thumb and index finger massaging the skin on his forehead.

“I wasn’t sure you’d show,” he says.

I straighten my shoulders. “Last night. I didn’t have the shot,” I say defensively.

“Ciara, save it, we have the footage from the body cams. You had the shot. Have you fallen in love with this Liam O’Shaughnessy?”

I bluster, puffing out my lips and cheeks. “Of course not!” I say, “What makes you think that?”

“A woman in love is a notoriously poor judge of character.” he says studying me. “You didn’t take the shot, you had the shot and you didn’t take it.”

“I hesitated. It happens.”

“I’ve never seen you hesitate during active gunfire before.”

“I’ve very rarely been in tactical situations. You’re my boss. You know that.”

“If anyone else knew it was you who didn’t take the shot last night. You’d be arrested. You’d be held at the police station right now. Intelligence would be interrogating you.”

My phone lights up. I look down at it. Liam’s name appears.

“That’s him, is it?” asks Fergus.

“I’m getting close Ferg. The work I’m doing could end human trafficking in Ireland. And the drugs. Two of the largest shipments ever seized have come from my intel. The information I got in...”

“The information you got where?” he asks.

---