Page 98 of Dirty Dylan: Dirty Dusters

I roll my eyes. “And what difference will that make, Paddy? As soon as she knows who it is, she’ll just block it.”

He nods. If she doesn’t want to speak to me or listen to anything I have to say, I can’t force her. Messaging from a plethora of numbers will make no difference. I can only be heard if the other person is willing to listen.

And Jessie’s clearly not.

“When’s Cill due back?”

I frown, wondering where Paddy’s going with this.

“Tomorrow, why?” Eoin looks at him.

“Aren’t we planning a trip to Nevada?”

“Wearen’t planning anything, Paddy. You’re going nowhere. Cill and I are going.”

“Can I go? In Cill’s place. I mean, he’ll only just have got back.” I pipe up.

I’m met with two equally penetrating stares. I know why. I never volunteer to go anywhere. But Jessie’s worth coming out of my comfort zone for. I always said if I met the right girl and they accepted me for who I am, then if I needed to, I would change my ways or I would at least try. Well, I will try. Because I’ve met the right person.

Jessieismy right person.

“Are you sure, Dyl? I’d probably feel more at ease having Cill at my back. No offense, but….”

I interject. “In the meantime, I’ll do the wet work with Paddy.”

They continue to stare likely thinking I’ve gone insane. And maybe I have. But to earn my spot on the trip to Nevada, I’m offering to kill for Jessie. Deserved people only, but still cold-blooded murder all the same.

If that’s not a declaration of true mobster love, then I don’t know what is.

CHAPTERFORTY-TWO

JESSIE

Jessie’s Family Home, Colton, Nevada

“Only two months to go,give or take, partner?”

I’m lying on my four-poster bed in my childhood bedroom, feeling like a teenager and like I’ve never left home and adulted before. The pink and white space remains unchanged. A shrine to my childhood I come home to worship at from time to time. I just never expected to be stuck in little girl heaven for the foreseeable future.

“It’s actually five weeks. And trust me, I’m counting down every goddamn day.”

“How are you coping?” My hands fidget with an old set of cheerleading pom-poms.

“Some days are better than others.”

“Well, at least now you have a diagnosis. Pre-natal depression is kind of a big deal.”

“It’s actually fairly common.”

“Well, yes, it is, but you’ve had it for weeks. Probably even months, the doctor said. That’s not common. And neither is it common to lose weight during pregnancy.”

“No, you’re right. That part isn’t common.”

“Remember, the offer stands if you want me to be your shrink. My rates are competitive, and my terms are extremely flexible.”

“I want to get better, not worse.”

We both snicker.

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