Page 17 of Dirty Eoin

Asshole.

“And what do you expect me to do about it, Delaney? You do realize they could be behind Ace’s death?”

“That’s highly unlikely, Jaine, and you know it.” He sighs with frustration at my continual insistence on this matter.

Like Duke, I haven’t told him about the blatant threat made by Roisin. That little nugget might just color his thinking when and if I ever decide to spill it. Right now, he’s waiting for me to say something constructive rather than sounding like I’m welcoming the news of the imminent demise of an O’Connell with open arms.

Which I am. The eldest brother.

I roll my eyes. I may as well ask, as I know he’s going to insist on expanding further.

“So, which one is being targeted? Fergal or Eoin?”

I’m only pissed off I didn’t get offered the contract personally. I’ll even do it for free.

“Rumor has it that it’s Padraig. And on his wedding day.” The words are quietly spoken, most likely to lessen their impact.

My brain immediately rewinds to the worst day of my life.

The day Ace died. The day I collided with Irish at the Palace. When he looked at me with such cool indifference as he stood with his big brother and their perfect color-matching fiancées.

Happy families indeed.

I felt like a fool for ever thinking he cared.

All the hopes I’d clung to for two years crashed and burned with just that one detached look. It was clear he didn’t miss me at all. He never had. The only reason he’d been messaging me was out of habit or because he was bored and needed something to pass the time. It was obvious he’d moved on as he stood side by side with Sophia.

And it’s time I did too. Once and for all.

Tears of self-pity press against the back of my eyes. Not only did I lose Ace, I also lost Irish. And both on the same goddamn day. I’m currently having to deal with the grief of losing two of the most important people in my life.

I will not spill those useless little fuckers, though. I’m all cried out. Now, I’m going to focus my energy on something way more satisfying.

Revenge. Delivering karma personally.

“And why would anyone want to kill Padraig O’Connell?” I try to sound disinterested, but I know Delaney won’t buy it. After four years together. I know him inside out, but he also knows me.

“Who knows, Jaine? Maybe the attack’s aimed at the Sicilians rather than the Dusters. The Ruoccos have a lot of enemies.”

Delaney’s right. That’s the reason most of their family members are dead. When you’re as untrustworthy as the Ruoccos, you tend to upset a lot of people. I lean my head back against the sofa and stare at the ceiling. I wanted to delay my return, not accelerate it, but what choice do I have? I’m already aware something’s about to go down with the Sicilians after my meeting with Leo. Precisely what and when, I don’t know, but what I do know is that whatever it is, it’s imminent.

And I can’t let anything happen to Irish.

“Find out if the threat is real and tangible.”

“It’s real. It’s tangible.”

“Find out for sure!” I hiss.

“And if it is?”

“Then I’ll be left with no option. I’ll have to return to New York earlier than planned to take care of business.”

* * *

I’m notsure how long has passed.

I’m still sitting in the same spot, staring at my other phone as it vibrates unwelcomingly on the sofa beside me. I haven’t spoken to Jessie since that fateful night at the Palace, despite her calling numerous times since. She wasn’t at Ace’s funeral. She was at her father’s bedside, which is perfectly understandable. Then again, would she have wanted to attend given her new husband was banned from doing so?

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