Page 170 of Dirty Padraig: Dirty Dusters

That’s where we’re now standing. Cillian, Dylan, me, and an extremely agitated Eoin, who’s pacing the small jetty that’s supposedly where Jaine last stood.

It’s pitch-black, apart from the moon reflecting off the water. It’s also deathly quiet, save for the sound of a lone owl hooting in the distance.

I take back what I said before as I stand here wondering what to do with myself. My throwaway thought that Eoin should calm down and just let her get on with living her life. Because I feel it now. His inner turmoil. His anguish. What he went through. It matches my own because I can no longer feel our connection.

Is it because she’s dead? Is she lying at the bottom of the lake? The lake she’s been returning to more and more frequently because it’s our place? A place once filled with so many happy memories for me until now.

Tears prick my eyes as I stare out across the water. I keep my emotions in check for my big brother’s sake. I know Eoin wants to jump straight in, but he’ll see nothing in the murky depths. It would take professional divers to find her even if she is in there and he knows it.

It won’t stop him from wanting to try at the first sign of any encouragement from us, though. To repeatedly go below the surface until his own exhaustion overwhelms him, and he’s also claimed by the dark expanse of water.

If she is in there, it’s already too late. Bringing her out won’t bring her back. It will only bring the rest of us closure. I’d rather sit here with my wishful thinking, foolish hopes, and pipe dreams and pretend that Jaine Jones is just fine.

Because how could I survive in this world without her when I am her, and she is me?

I stare at Eoin. He’s covered in debris and soot from the church, and his hands are burned from having to shift the burning beam to save my life for a second time. He refused to have them seen by Dr. Kelly. Bandages would only restrict his hand movements, and he wants to be able to act without hindrance when and if we ever find Jaine.

My phone vibrates, but I know it won’t be her. I have a feeling she flung both her handsets into the lake to signify the end.

I pull my phone from my pocket.

Razr:Any news?

Padraig:Nothing.

I watch Eoin pace like an expectant father. In a way, Jaine’s acted selfishly. My big brother will never survive losing her because they haven’t made their peace.

Why would he cheat on her when he clearly loves her more than life itself? What made their relationship so fucking complicated that they continually went out of their way to make life a living hell for each other? Why couldn’t they just be happy?

But would I want that when their unhappiness could mean a future for me and her? If she’s still around to have one, that is.

“Tell me again, Dylan,” Eoin snaps.

“Cillian and I had to stop her from trying to get into the church. When the roof caved in, she thought you had both died. We all did. Having accepted it for what it was, she walked off, got on the hog, and left. That’s it.”

There’s one word that Eoin desperately wants him to change like it will somehow affect the overall outcome. It won’t, but maybe, like me, he clings on to foolish hope too.

Accepted.

He doesn’t like the thought that she bowed down to acceptance. Jaine Jones would never just accept. She would never just walk away. What the fuck is her Swan song? Because there will definitely be one.

My phone rings, but I just ignore it. It will be Ma, Da, or Razr. Nothing’s changed.

It rings again and again. Yanking it from my pocket, I stare at the number. I know then it’s the sign we’ve all been waiting for. I answer the call.

“Where is she?”

“Luciano Ruocco has her. I’ll send you the location. There isn’t much time.”

“We’re heading to the car now.”

I start running toward the SUV, and the others follow. Cillian takes to the driver’s seat, as he knows these streets better than most.

“Who was it, Paddy?”

“It was Nate Hawke, Dyl. Luciano’s got her. She’s alive. For now, at least.”

“How does Nate have your number?”

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