Page 150 of Dirty Padraig: Dirty Dusters

I stand outside the door. It’s grey. Same as Eoin’s. Will it be everything-proof too?

Switching on the nighttime goggles, I click open the door with the gun raised. The lights are already off. I glance around, knowing they’re already in the bedroom.

I spot Sophia’s handbag on the table. A mobile handset rests beside it. Shoving the Glock down the back of my pants, I make my way forward, pulling on the thin pair of gloves I brought with me.

I pick up the phone and open the case, causing the piece of paper trapped inside to fall to the floor.

Fuck.

I pick it up and stare at it. It’s not Sophia’s phone. It’s Irish’s. A lump forms in my throat as I take in the image captured from our Yale days. The very same one I carry in the back of my own case.

Now is not the time, Jaine.

I push the image behind the handset before closing the case and placing it back on the table. Lifting the bag, I take out Sophia’s phone before putting the bag back on the table.

I go to the kitchen area and plug the download device in to her phone.

Two minutes. That’s how long he needs.

Two minutes feels like the equivalent of two years when you’re in a hurry. When you’re trying to prevent someone you love from having to stick his dick in a woman he’d much rather not because he’s looking out for your best interests.

Eventually, my burner vibrates. We’re done. Removing the device, I make my way back across to the table before placing the phone back inside the bag.

I hear the bedroom door click.

It’s then I notice the handset is still illuminated and that I can see it clearly through the soft leather of the bag.

Fuck.

Seconds tick by. How long does it take for the screen to go dark?

“Padraig, did you switch the lights off?” It’s Sophia.

“I can’t remember.” Good answer.

I can hear footsteps. Please, God, switch off the goddamn screen.

Tick tock. Tick tock.

The screen switches off just as the stench of her lily-based perfume reaches my nostrils.

I sink down behind the sofa. There’s nowhere else for me to go. I pull the Glock from my pants as I wait. Sophia won’t be able to see me unless she walks toward the front door.

She’s running water.

I stay where I am until I hear her footsteps retreating toward the bedroom. I wait until I hear the bedroom door click once more before standing and making my way outside. Usually, I’d take the stairs, but for what I’ve got planned, time is of the essence, so I press the button for the elevator.

“Any luck, Dylan?”

“One word, Jaine.”

Please be a fucking positive one for a change.

“Bingo.”

I don’t ask any questions. I make my way straight to ground level. Still wearing my get-up, I hit the fire alarm, dragging off my balaclava before I reach street level.

“Take that, Sophia.”

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