Page 47 of Dirty Eoin

Knowing all eyes are on him, he stands back up, waddles across, and passes the now saliva-soaked toy to my da.

“Thank you, young Finian.”

Tears prick his eyes that his grandson has brought him a gift, but I know it’s also over the fact that Jaine, despite hating us, still saw fit to name the little boy after my own granda. I know that unselfish act meant the world to my da.

He lifts him, sits him on his lap, and immediately switches to granda mode, talking in a silly voice and making the plush dance around. Fin giggles as he tries but fails to catch the toy, Da pulling it out of his reach at the last minute every time.

It’s a beautiful, childlike sound.

Innocent. Pure.

I look at Jaine, and she’s smiling at the visual and at da. I look again at him and he’s smiling back at her in return. He’s grateful. His expression speaks volumes.

And she understands. Family is all that matters to him. And to her.

I’m well aware this lightheartedness and bonding is over Fin only. The Dusters are still her enemy right now. More so me.

“Can I hold him, partner?” Jessie interrupts the moment as is her way.

“Provided you don’t drop him on his head, Jessie.” Jaine laughs out loud. It’s another beautiful sound.

Unfiltered. Natural.

Jaine stares at Fin with such love as Jessie lifts him from my da’s reluctant arms.

I want that for me. I want to experience that unconditional love. I never realized until now how much I really want children.

With her.

More unwelcome thoughts.

Da turns his attention to Jaine, his expression now serious. “Jaine. Can I have a word with you in private, please?”

She looks at da, her expression now poker-faced. Will she or won’t she leave Fin unattended?

“He’ll be fine with us, Jaine. I promise.” Our Dylan speaks, and she stares at him, searching his face forensically for any signs that he’s lying to her. What she sees must reassure her as she nods slowly.

I have a feeling we’re all about to find out what’s been causing my da to wear out the carpet.

CHAPTEREIGHTEEN

JAINE

The O’Connell Home, Darling, New York

I followFergal through to his office. Could this be a trap? They lull me into a false sense of security then steal my son away. I wouldn’t put anything past the O’Connells. Or at least not past Da Duster and his heir. The only saving grace is that Roisin’s not here to add fuel to their family fire and fan their fucked-up flames. I’d never have left Fin unattended had she been around. She’s still in Sicily with Irish and his new wife.

Hopefully, she’ll stay there.

Fergal’s office is made up of dark wood shelving in the main, with an arsenal of guns and other weapons carefully laid out across each surface. It’s my guess each gun is loaded and ready to use. Just point and pull the trigger.

I look at the sniper rifle on display. It has me wondering if he knows how to use it or if it’s just for show. It’s not a natural talent everyone possesses.

I run my finger down the smooth cool length of the straight metal barrel, the familiar feel instantly soothing my sniper soul. It reminds me that I need to collect my own weapon from St. Patrick’s. It’s probably best to wait. Let all the fuss die down beforehand. As expected, the headline news is that the fatal shots were thought to have been fired by The Exterminator.

It’s speculation. Nothing more. There’s no proof it was the surreptitious sniper as no bullets were ever recovered.

“You like guns, Jaine?”

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