Page 23 of Dirty Eoin

Jaine:To walk in, shoot Eoin O’Connell in the head, then throw a party / wake to celebrate.

Delaney:Your actual plan, Jaine.

Jaine:I’m dressed like a guest and I’m carrying a huge flower arrangement.

Delaney:That’s your plan?I’m sure the flowers will be gratefully received, but you can’t kill someone with a rose.

Jaine:Lilies.The flowers of the day are lilies. I checked in advance.

Delaney:Is it a wedding or a funeral?

Jaine:It’s a wedding, but someone’s going to die today, so I guess it’s both.

Delaney:So, a dual-purpose flower arrangement.

Jaine:Yup.

Delaney:Fingerprints?

Jaine:I’m wearing gloves.

Delaney:Weapon?

Jaine:Already hidden inside. I attended service yesterday so I could confess my sins to The Almighty in advance. I found a safe place to hide it at the same time.

Delaney:You got an invitation?

Jaine:Like they’d invite me. I’m going to pretend I’m with the florist, hence the flowers. Failing that, I’ll play my dumb blonde act. Works every time.

Delaney:Are you sure they’ll let you in?

Jaine:Trust me. It’s the O’Connells we’re talking about. It’s all about keeping up appearances. The event will be over-the-top and vulgar. There will be so many people in attendance if they were sheep, you’d fall asleep trying to count them. I’ll never be noticed. Plus, I’m wearing jaw-droppingly expensive clothes, a huge hat, and sunglasses that cover most of my face. I’ll fit right in. More importantly, no one should recognize me.

Delaney:Use the location finder if anything goes wrong. I’ll come straight away. I’ll stay local.

Jaine:I will. And good to know. Why aren’t you attending the big day again?

Delaney:Bailey’s in Nevada visiting her daddy. I’ve used the excuse I have a prior appointment with my shrink.

Jaine:Mental health comes first.

Delaney:Always. Please be careful, Jaine.

Jaine:Quit worrying, dad.

I smirkat my burner before placing it back inside the lining of my jacket. Aside from asking if the person is deserving of my engraved bullet, I never discuss a hit. Yet here I am having a full-blown message conversation beforehand. I know Delaney’s worried about me. I’m sure that completely out-of-character exchange will have made him even more so. He’ll be thinking I’m choosing not to focus on the matter at hand because I’ve got a death wish or something.

I haven’t. I don’t want to die. I have two little boys to live for.

But I feel numb. Detached. Like I’m not residing in my own head space. Like I’m experiencing some sort of weird surrealistic episode.

I know it’s grief. That it’s all too much too soon. I’m still healing. I’m still trying to process Ace’s death, and yet here I am trying to save the life of a man whose family may be responsible.

A man who’s also the father of my eldest son.

“I can’t let anything happen to Irish, Ace,” I whisper. I hope he can hear me. I pray to God he can each time I talk to him.

All day. Every day. Like he’s still alive and not dead.

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