Page 161 of Dirty Padraig: Dirty Dusters

I step inside the church, smiling as I take in the familiar surroundings. The workers are still on with the renovations, so old Father O’Reilly will still be off sunning himself somewhere while bashing that Bible of his.

Running my hand along one of the ancient wooden pews, I look around. Where is she, I wonder? I realize there’s only one place she can be.

I make my way down past the confessional booth, taking in my image in the reflective glass as I walk toward the safe room. I don’t think I’ve changed all that much over the years. A couple more lines and a few grey hairs. I’m a bit less jovial, but living this life will do that to you.

Falling in love with a girl who's destined never to be yours will do that to you too.

I smirk when I see that the door’s been jammed open. She’s not taking any chances after the last time. Who can blame her? I don’t speak as I enter the room where we almost died, as she’s currently fast asleep on the sectional.

Sitting, I look down at her. She’s not changed too much either, but then, Jaine really is plain in that way. Everything about her is au natural. It always has been. Like me, she has a few more lines and a couple of scars, but that’s about it. She still has the same big green eyes, pouty lips, and straight-up-and-down shape.

“I can feel you admiring me, Irish.”

I laugh heartily. “And how did you know it was me, darlin’?”

She smiles, keeping her eyes closed. “Old Spice. No one else in the world wears it. Only you.”

“My da used to.”

“Used to. You see, even Fergal’s moved on from a cologne that Methuselah himself used to wear.”

She laughs with me, but it’s gone as quickly as it arrived.

“It was my fault. At the time, I knew there would be repercussions, but I thought I’d be made to pay, not anyone else.”

“That’s the thing, Jaine. Youweremade to pay. She hit you where it hurt most. She hurt the people you love.”

She nods. I can see her chin quivering. I quickly lie down beside her, pulling her across so her head is resting on my chest then I let her cry it out. She’ll forever cry a river for Ace, which is only to be expected.

“Ma says she’s to blame for antagonizing her.”

She lets out a shaky sigh. “I said the condemning words. Roisin just fueled the fire.”

I tighten my grip around her. “The Ruoccos are to blame, not you or Ma. Anyway, as Ace always used to say, when your time’s up, it’s up. There’s nothing anyone can do to change that.”

“I guess.”

“What did you say to Sophia that got her so fired up anyway?”

I feel her tense. Maybe she doesn’t want to be reminded as it’s too painful. I mean, whatever it was snowballed into Ace losing his life.

“I said, ‘I only hope Padraig grows to love you as much as he did me.’” Her voice is quiet. I’m sure she’d much rather never have told me, but there it is.

I roll on my side to look down at her. She’s self-conscious as her confession has caused her cheeks to turn pink.

“Were you jealous, darlin’?”

A hesitant nod.

Is it wrong that my heart soars? That she lashed out at my future wife because she couldn’t bear the thought of me being with anyone else?

“I’m surprised you let your professional image slip in public.” I try to keep my tone as matter-of-fact as possible. I can’t rejoice over a comment that resulted in Ace losing his life.

“It was the first and last time. It was foolish. I regretted the words the moment they left my mouth, but they were out there. I couldn’t take them back.”

“And when was this exactly?”

“It was at The Meeting Rooms, the night Sarah and I got abducted by the Colombian trafficker. Now I come to think of it, he had most likely been invited along by Luciano.”

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