Page 143 of Dirty Eoin

It’s closed to the public this week while several of the handmade pews that were destroyed in the shooting incident are replaced. The O’Connell’s have, of course, paid for all of the remedial works to be undertaken, including the costs of any fixtures and fittings. Many were irreplaceable, so we’ve also made a considerable donation by way of an apology and for all the inconvenience caused. We needed to atone for the atrocities that took place in The Almighty’s own house. It’s a small price to pay given what we could have lost that day.

Malky and his goon alight the vehicle.

“Ladies.”

We’re both helped from the car before being led up the church steps. Nothing is said. Malky will likely wait until we’re inside before he communicates further.

We all know the reason behind all of this. We’re just waiting for him to furnish us with the plan of what he has in store for us both. Me in particular, because right now, Jaine doesn’t factor in his plans. As far as he’s concerned, she was simply in the wrong place at the wrong time.

He obviously doesn’t realize that she’s Eoin’s wife and the woman he jilted Molly for. If he did, he would quickly become her captive audience and I would be the one then surplus to requirements.

Let’s hope he doesn’t find out.

CHAPTERFORTY-FIVE

JAINE

Saint Patrick’s Cathedral, Manhattan, New York

I must havethe words ‘please abduct me’ invisibly inked on my forehead. First time with Ace and Irish. Second time with Sarah, and now here I am, third time unlucky with Roisin O’Connell.

Malky. That’s what Roisin called him. I have no idea who Malky is, but he’s Irish, as his accent is strong. It’s also clear that he feels the Dusters have wronged him in some way and now he wants his pound of flesh.

We pull up in front of St. Patrick’s Cathedral. All the memories of that day immediately come flooding back.

Irish’s wedding.

Like with Ace, I can think about it without tears most days now. Or at least visible ones.

Malky and his goon open the car doors. I get yanked out while Roisin gets the VIP treatment. I’m just glad to escape the confines of the vehicle as it stinks of bad breath. Going by the state of Malky’s teeth, I think he’s the guilty party with the extreme case of halitosis.

It’s still warm and sunny out. It’s as good a day as any to die, I guess. They haven’t brought us here to admire the kaleidoscopic effect of the stained-glass windows.

“This way, ladies.”

Malky makes eye contact with me, and I turn away. There’s no point in antagonizing whoever he is.

We enter the building. It looks the same as before aside from remedial works that appear to be ongoing. The most notable thing missing is the overwhelming stench of lilies.

Malky chats animatedly to Roisin as we walk upstairs, his fat thighs chaffing together the only other sound. We’re led to a small room. I know it well. It’s right beside the one I used when I took out the sniper bad guys. The only reason I didn’t use this one is because it has no view over the proceedings. It’s fully enclosed.

I glance around at the natural stone walls and the bare floor. A chair has been prepared in advance, which has already been set in concrete. It’s obviously a mobster thing. It reminds me of Mr. Unfortunate at the docks. The sounds, sights, smells, and tastes all come flooding back.

I watch as Roisin is bound to the chair.

“Sit.” Malky finally addresses me, pointing toward a small wooden pew that’s around twelve feet in front of where Roisin’s sitting. She’s done as I asked as Malky here obviously sees me as nothing more than a Duster toy soldier.

“You’ll never get away with this, Malky. You know that, don’t you?” Roisin breaks the ongoing silence.

“I know that, Roisin, but I want justice to be served.”

“We promised nothing.”

“You promised to make my daughter Ma Duster and then you reneged on the deal.” He hisses his fury, spraying saliva over the floor.

I frown inwardly. Is this Molly McGrath’s father?

“No promises were ever made, and you know it. And your girl wasn’t harmed in any way.”

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