Page 131 of Dirty Eoin

“It’s not just about Ace.”

“Paddy…”

“Might as well be dead too.”

“No one can force him to make contact, Jaine. He’s doing what he needs to from a business point of view and that’s all we can ask of him. I guess he’s just living his best life.”

“Yup. Maybe he is.”

Jessie pauses. She’s thinking up her piece de resistance. I smirk at the phone and wait.

“You know, the strongest, wisest, and most successful woman I have ever met said something to me once.”

“Did she really? And what did this brilliant woman have to say?” I smile.

She clears her throat exaggeratedly, and I can’t help but chuckle. “She said to me ‘Jessie. You put your big girl pants on and you show those O’Connells exactly what you’re made of’. And do you know what I did?”

“I do, but I’m sure you’re going to remind me.”

“I am indeedy, partner. Because I, Jessie O’Connell, did exactly what that wise legal eagle told me to do.”

She’s right of course. I need to move on in all areas of my life and stop being so goddamn selective. I’m thirty-one years old. A single mom with two beautiful little boys.

A successful lawyer. A successful sniper.

I need to stop wallowing in my own private lake of what might have been.

It’s time to put your big girl pants on and get over it, Jaine Jones.

I don’t have Ace. I don’t have Irish. I don’t have Eoin. But I still have me and my boys, and I’m sure God has me somewhere on that big old masterplan of his. He’s not going to give biker trash like me any clues as to where exactly, but I can live with that.

“I’ll be there.” I sigh exaggeratedly.

“Is Sarah bringing the kids?”

“She is. She’s also bringing Duke.”

“So you’ll be showing up in traditional biker style?”

“I sure will.”

“Well, I guess I’ll hear you tomorrow, partner.”

We both snicker.

CHAPTERFORTY-TWO

JAINE

The O’Connell Home, Darling, New York

There’snothing quite like the feel of a hog’s engine thrumming between your thighs, the wind whipping through your hair, or the smell of clean outdoor air infused with road dust, fuel, and grease. I’m so glad I had my Softail shipped to New York.

I’ve had this hog since I was eighteen years old. My birthday gift from my pop. This ride is what carried me all the way from Rising to New York, then all the way back again a decade later. It’s part of my soul.

My memories drift to the past. To Ace, and tears prick my eyes. Some days they do, some days they don’t. Mostly they do when I’m filled with overwhelming regret at the wasted time we won’t get back.

Do-overs seldom happen in our life. Duke’s right. You have to grab what you can when you can. If you don’t, then chances are, you’ll spend the rest of your life living with regret like I do every day.

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