Page 148 of Dirty Padraig: Dirty Dusters

“He won’t. I have a plan.”

“Are you sure you don’t want me to sneak in instead? You may see or hear….”

“I’ll do it, Dylan.” My head’s already on the chopping block. Plus, if it doesn’t go according to plan, then I’ve got no one to blame but myself.

CHAPTERFORTY-EIGHT

PADRAIG

Padraig’s Apartment, Hudson Yards, New York

I’m notsure what sort of mood I’m in.

It’s similar to the one I was in the day my life ended. Bewilderment that my day of reckoning is finally here. I suppose there’s a silver lining this time, although is my freedom just a carrot being dangled to make me jump through Ruocco hoops? That it’s not something I’m ever likely to achieve.

Probably.

At least Jaine is back with Eoin, so she and Fin are safe, although it does concern me that she’s not taken to wearing that obscene engagement ring he bought for her.

I look at my watch, then switch my attention to the ceiling. Sophia will be here in ten minutes. We’ve agreed to get tonight over with, and then she’ll move the rest of her stuff in over the next week. I hope she’s not expecting me to wine and dine her before the big event because I won’t be.

I’m sitting here in blue jeans and a white tee. Everything’s coming off. There’s no point in me pretending otherwise. She’ll want to get straight down to business, I’m sure.

There’s been no one since Jaine apart from once with Sophia that I don’t even remember. I’m not sure why I feel guilty, but I do. I feel like I’m cheating on Jaine all over again, even though we’re not together.

She’s going to marry my brother. She’ll be my sister-in-law.

Forever forbidden.

The rest of my life will be spent watching from the sidelines as she lives her best life with Eoin. I’ll have to watch as they take the vows. As they have kids. As they celebrate anniversaries. As they grow old together. I can feel tears running down my face.

Angry. Sad. Disappointed.

That’s how I feel when I think about my lot.

My thoughts drift to Jaine. To our time together at the church. I wish I were back there right now, even if we were slowly dying. As we lay side by side like we did way back then, putting the world to rights and talking just because we love hearing the sound of the other person’s voice.

I hear the knock on the door. I locked it from the inside. For now, this is my home. I’m not sharing it until I have no choice. I walk to the kitchen, turn on the faucet, then wash my face with cold water.

I need a miracle.

Raising my face to the ceiling, I whisper a silent prayer, then with a sigh, I walk across and open the apartment door. Sophia stands there looking smug because she knows this is it. I can’t run anymore.

I have to put out.

Given that we’re not going anywhere, she’s completely over-dressed in a cream pantsuit. Maybe she thinks I’ll take my time unwrapping her like a gift.

I won’t.

She walks past me, filling my nose with her lily-based stench. Funeral flowers. The smell of death. I may not die tonight, but I’ll surely wish for death several times over as she demands her pound of flesh.

She turns to look at me. If she were a nice person, I’d feel guilty about how indifferent I’m being, but she’s not, so I don’t.

I’m not going to sit around and make small talk. I motion my head toward the bedroom, and she spins in that direction.

“Handbag.” I motion my head toward the sliver of cream leather that she’s grasping tightly in her hand.

“But my phone….”

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