Page 60 of Dirty Padraig: Dirty Dusters

“I just wanted to make sure you were all right, darlin’,” I utter the unnecessary words, as she’s clearly not all right.

“I’m fine.”

A typical female response, which means she’s the opposite.

“Well, if this is how you look when you feel fine, then I’d hate to see the state you’re in when you’re upset.”

She motions her head for me to step inside, and I do. It looks similar to how it did the last time I was in here. The only real difference is that it now looks lived in with the toys and children’s stuff scattered around the place.

My mother hated her. Both my parents did. It’s gone a complete one-eighty because she’s given them Fin and JJ. Then again, she also saved my ma’s life, even though I’m told my da almost ended hers.

I turn around to take her in. Her bottom lip quivering gives her away. I hold out my arms, she walks straight into them, and they instinctively wrap around her. Because it’s where she was always meant to be. In my fucking arms.

And then she cries, and I soothe her as best I can. I know from how heart-wrenching each sob is that they’re not just for Eoin.

That they’re for Ace. That they’re for her pop. That they’re for everyone she’s ever lost and for every negative life-changing event she’s ever experienced.

This rare moment of weakness is a culmination of all the regrets and losses she can temporarily rid herself of. A release she can embrace because she’s with someone who understands what she’s been through because he lived through most of them with her first time around. Even if it was only at the end of a phone or as part of a message exchange.

I close my eyes as I inhale the scent of wildflowers from her hair.

Then I find myself praying that there’s at least one tear in there for me. Over what we shared. Because even though it meant so little to her, it meant every-fucking-thing to me. She means everything to me.

And then my own silent tears mix with hers. Over my single biggest regret and my single biggest loss. Her.

Although, how can you lose what was never truly yours in the first place?

CHAPTERTWENTY

JAINE

The O’Connell Home, Darling, New York

To fix something,it first has to be broken.

I never realized just how broken I was until Irish started putting me back together using something I never thought I’d get to share with anyone again.

Memories.

We laughed and cried as we reminisced. I think, in some ways, he needed fixing as much as I did, although he seldom gives anything away about his life with Sophia.

It’s been six days. Eoin and I still haven’t spoken.

We’ve both needed time to mourn what we had and ponder over why it never worked out for us. My heart physically aches, but he’s alive and well. He’s not dead like Ace, and that’s all that matters. My world will keep on turning as long as he’s on it.

I’ll survive. So will he.

I love him. I will always love him. Same as I do his brother. But in both cases, love just wasn’t enough.

I can’t be what Eoin wants me to be. I’m a biker. It’s written in my DNA. The freedom of the open road is part of who I am. I need to be able to ride my hog. To inhale the scent of road dust mixed with exhaust fumes into my lungs.

I’ll gladly meet my maker sooner rather than later by taking my chances so I can do just that because what’s the point in living if you’re already dead inside?

Eoin wanted to lock me up in a gilded cage. He wanted to clip my wings so I could never fly off even when he let me out. I don’t want to exist. I don’t want to be an extension of him. I want to live. I want to be me.

Plain Jaine Jones.

Maybe things will change for us. Maybe we’ll both bend and compromise, but for now, we’re broken. For now, we don’t share a future.

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