Page 65 of Dirty Dylan: Dirty Dusters

“Let me finish what I have to say, please, Fergal.” I smile at him, and he nods slowly.

“As mentioned, unfortunately, I have to withdraw my services for personal reasons. Now, I would like that to be with immediate effect if at all possible. Jaine is currently looking into the contractual side of matters. Rest assured, I will abide by whatever clauses and conditions it contains. All will, of course, be confirmed in writing by JAL before the close of business today, and a sensible exit strategy put in place.”

“Can I ask why, Jessie? You seemed happy with us here. Have we done something to upset or offend you?” Fergal’s frown deepens. He flicks through his blank pad like that somehow holds the answer.

I suddenly feel overwhelmed with guilt. He’s almost seventy. He’s already in the winter of his life, and he’s only just being allowed to wind down. He’s finally getting to spend some quality time with his little granddaughter. And here I am throwing a spanner in his retirement works. I walk across to stand behind him, squeezing his shoulder when I do.

“Let’s not delve into the reasons behind my withdrawal of services right now, Fergal. You and I can discuss that afterward in private if you wish. I just wanted to let you know my contract, or should I say JAA’s contract with the Dusters is to terminate. I also want to make it clear this is at my request, not Jaine’s.”

Molly smirks. She looks like all her Christmases have come at once. First, Jaine departs. Now me. I ignore her. She’s not worthy of a reaction.

I walk back around the table, my eyes making contact with Eoin’s.

“Jaine told me to let you know she’ll call to discuss the matter before she documents anything in writing.”

He nods. My gaze switches briefly back to Molly. I take in her pursed lips. Is it wrong that it gives me satisfaction to announce Jaine will be conversing with her potential fiancé once more? It’s something I know she didn’t want to happen. If she were a decent person, I’d feel guilty. But she’s not, so I don’t.

I walk to the window to take in the view. It’s still one of the best Manhattan has to offer. I’ll miss it.

But not as much as I’ll misshim.

Still, it’s too late for any of that now.

I turn back to face them and watch as they look around each other. They’re waiting for me to close. To get to the point of why I interrupted their family get-together. I guess it’s time for me to do just that.

“Moving forward, I will continue to deal with the Dusters as JAA will be representing the Scorpions, the Angels, and La eMe on the alliance. We’ll also be representing the newest member, the Sons of Satan.

I pause.

“You’re already aware that my background is MC. Well, just so you know Lucifer, aka Liam O’Brien, is my daddy.”

My announcement is greeted with a wall of silence. I deliberately don’t make eye contact with Dylan. He can go fuck himself.

“So, Bailey? Paul Delaney’s fiancée?”

I turn to look at Eoin as he finally puts two and two together. He likely now sees the strong family resemblance.

“Bailey is my baby sister.”

He nods. “So, you know Rodolfo personally. The same as Jaine.”

“Rod is one of my closest friends. We grew up together.” I smile at him. I walk back to the table. “Now, the alliance is on shaky ground after what happened to Raf as you know.” A melancholy silence fills the room as those who remember do. It’s hard not to be affected by the memory of the vibrant twenty-three-year-old who lost his life in the Nevada shoot-out. I lift my briefcase, realizing I’ve stood the entire time. “As neither JAL nor JAA will be representing the Dusters, I just wanted to assure you all that I shall do my best to ensure things progress smoothly for all parties concerned, at least from a financial perspective.”

“Jessie girl, would you please reconsider?” Fergal stands abruptly, his hands fisting at his sides.

I don’t want to turn him down. To walk away and leave him in the lurch. It’s not his fault. It’s not anyone’s fault, really. It’s just timing, circumstance, and the unfortunate fallout from this contract relationship game our kind keeps insisting on playing.

A game where there are seldom winners. Only losers.

The only person guilty of any wrongdoing in all of this is Dylan. He should have told me. He shouldn’t have allowed me to sink deeper and deeper into the quicksand of whatever the fuck this is.

Was.

I walk across and squeeze Fergal’s shoulder once more to let him know I won’t reconsider. It’s my silent refusal.

“For old time’s sake.” I smile as I then pull back the silver ball on the Newton’s Cradle and let it swing before turning to leave.

“Good riddance.”

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