Page 177 of Dirty Padraig: Dirty Dusters

“I never knew that.”

“He took it as the final sign that you and he were never meant. Not in the same way you and Paddy were. I tried to explain to him that you love them both equally, just differently, but he won’t listen.”

“Why?”

“Because his conscience is eating away at him. Molly’s final words to him when they split up, were that he had effectively stolen Paddy’s life. I know they haunt him, more so when Paddy still doesn’t know what actually happened. The fact that Eoin actively pursued you.”

“He needs to tell him, Dylan. It’s not for me to say.”

“He knows that, and he will, but for the record, he never cheated on you.”

“I don’t understand.”

“He was pushing you away because he thinks you should be able to choose who you want to be with. That it shouldn’t automatically be him just because you were already together.”

“What if I want to be with him? He’s being a goddamn martyr when no one asked him to be one,” I bite back as my voice breaks once more. “Has he not learned anything during this whole shitshow? That we need to stop making assumptions and making decisions for other people? It’s why we’re all in this goddamn mess in the first place.”

“So, what are you going to do?”

“I’ll go see him in a couple of days.”

“And Sophia?”

“Where is she?”

“At the containers for now, but she’ll be moving to Play imminently.”

“What will happen to her?”

“Paddy will happen to her.”

“Can I be there?”

“I’m sure he will insist, Jaine.”

CHAPTERFIFTY-NINE

JAINE

The Docks, Hudson Yards

I pullup at the containers on the hog that I’ve still neither acknowledged receipt of nor accepted. Liam took me to the Ruocco property this morning. It was still parked up where I left it. No doubt it would have been crushed in due course had they had their way.

Fortunately, they didn’t.

Luciano is currently being held for questioning. I’ve messaged back and forth with Nate, but we’ve not actually spoken. I haven’t been able to face it. The fact that my legal nemesis was the person with me during some of the darkest moments of my life.

It turns out the recording device was also fitted with a tracker. As soon as I arrived at my final destination, he called Irish and told him exactly where I was. If the O’Connell brothers had arrived a few minutes later, it would have been game over.

It’s been four days since churchgate, and this is the first time I’ve left the house. I can’t face going to see the devastation the fire left behind, so I figured I’d come here and give the eldest O’Connell a piece of my mind instead.

Who the fuck does he think he is?

My life. My death. My actions. My consequences.

I’m not interested in his assumptions or his decisions. Hypocrite? Maybe.

So what if he’s saved my life four times? It still doesn’t give him any rights over it. Asshole.

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