Page 44 of Dirty Eoin

Dyl and I both know when I put the phone down that I’ll piece myself back together. I have no choice. This is a fleeting moment of weakness and fragility. Nothing more. The life I lead allows for neither. Both will only get me killed, and I have two little boys to live for.

“I don’t know what to expect from today, Dyl,” I whisper.

“Then don’t expect anything. Just go with the flow. I’m sure things will work themselves out and fall into place naturally. Do you want me to come and pick you up?”

My response is immediate. “I think it would be best if I make my own way there.”

“So you can leave when you want to?”

“Exactly.”

He snickers. “I’ll message you the directions.”

The O’Connell Home, Darling, New York

It’s a gated entrance, so I have to wait to be let in. For once, I don’t complain or criticize. For once, I understand. Fergal and Roisin want to protect their family at all costs.

Even from me.

Having a family of my own, I get it now. The security will be state of the art and Fort Knox equivalent. They have a lot of enemies. From this day forward, so will Fin.

Having parked up, I step out of my recently purchased SUV. Like the Duster vehicles, it’s effectively a bullet-proof, bomb-proof tank disguised to look like an innocent black four-wheel drive. I bought three. One for me and one each for Duke and Sasha to use. A must for any time they’re transporting Fin, JJ, or both.

I take in the O’Connell family home. It’s vulgar. No surprises there. It’s a mansion-like property finished off with over-the-top water fountains and manicured gardens, the lawns so perfect they look like they’ve been cut with a pair of nail scissors. They probably have. It’s not like they can’t afford it. Security cameras immediately fix on me. They’ll no doubt follow my every move. Big brother is watching, but I can’t see him.

Figures.

I raise my face to the sky and close my eyes. It’s a beautiful day weather-wise, and the sun caresses my face with its warmth, the air laden with the perfume of freshly mown grass. It’s pleasant. But I miss the smell of petrichor and wildflowers.

I miss Rising.

I miss Ace.

I swallow the familiar lump that appears in my throat. I will have my revenge. But that’s for another day. Not today.

Fin’s fast asleep but wakes when I unstrap him from his car seat. Familiar blue eyes gaze up at me.

Like his daddy’s.

Like his grandaddy’s.

“Hey, little big guy.” He’s teething again, so I’m answered with a drooling smile. He then immediately starts to chatter and tell me his stories. Some of the words are recognizable now, but most are made up. He loves the sounds of his own voice.

Just like his daddy. I so wish Irish were here to meet his son.

Balancing Fin on my hip, I grab his bag, then I stand and stare at the front door of the O’Connell house.

Run. Run. Run.

But I know I can’t. I know I have to do this.

For Fin. For Irish.

It was also Ace’s dying wish, and I can’t let my beautiful boy down.

I start to walk forward. I’m dragging my heels reluctantly. Who will open the door, I wonder? Aside from Cillian and Sarah, who will be first to set eyes on Padraig O’Connell’s son?

CHAPTERSEVENTEEN

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