Page 113 of Dirty Dylan: Dirty Dusters

“It’s the truth. Sarah shouldn’t have said anything.”

My back’s instantly up. I’m constantly uncomfortable and in pain these days. I’m fully aware it’s making me more reactive than normal.

“Now hold on a minute. Don’t blame Sarah. Roisin never mentioned it was being said in confidence. On the contrary, Sarah said she was actively encouraged to spread the happy news.”

I stop pacing as the reason why dawns on me. Roisin’s done this on purpose. She knew Sarah would tell me and Bailey. It was to make sure Jessie found out. To let her know it was game over. Can this family stoop any lower?

“You mentioned Dylan didn’t know. You did, I suppose?”

There’s a pause. It speaks volumes. I’m right. Asshole.

“So, it didn’t cross your mind to do the decent thing and let Jessie know?”

“It’s not my place to tell Jessie.”

“You could have told me. I could have told her.”

“And how do you expect me to do that? You haven’t taken my calls in months.”

“Why don’t you ask Molly why that is? Better still, why don’t you ask your ma? And for the record, I called you once. Molly answered. You didn’t return it, so I figured our communications were at an end and you’d received the same threatening memo from Ma Duster that I had.”

There’s a pause. He’s digesting what I’ve said. I know him well enough to know what I’m saying is news to him.

So, Molly never told him. Then again, why would she when she thinks I want him for myself? She must have wiped all traces of the call from his phone. Figures. Still, that’s between her and him and it was probably for the best.

“And what is it I’ve to ask my ma about?”

“I’m sure you’ll figure it out.”

Another pause.

“I called you several times recently, Jaine. You never answered. Does that seem like I wanted our conversations to be at an end?”

“By then, I had nothing to say to you.”

“You called. You obviously had something you wanted to say. What was it?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“What. Was. It.”

I start pacing the floor once more, annoyed at his bossy tone. Who the hell does he think he is?

“I can’t remember the reason.”

“Don’t lie, Miss Jones.”

I close my eyes and exhale. “I wanted you to tell me what was going on because everyone else was keeping secrets from me.”

There’s a pause.

“Maybe they were trying to protect you.”

I roll my eyes as I sit down on the old sofa, rubbing my hand across my lower back as I do. “From what? I don’t need protecting. I’m pregnant. I’m not terminally ill.”

“So, you called me thinking that I’m not hiding things from you.”

“And are you?”

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