Page 164 of Dirty Padraig: Dirty Dusters

We run down the corridor past the confessional booth and into the nave. We glance around, but there doesn’t appear to be anyone here. I watch as Irish walks to the entrance before pushing at the ancient doors.

“We’re locked in.”

“Not again.”

“Yep.” He places his ear against the wood and then sniffs. “Get Dylan on the phone, Jaine. Quickly.”

“What’s wrong?” I take my phone from my pocket as I walk toward him, and that’s when I smell it. Gasoline.

I stare at him as I dial Dylan’s number. “They’re going to torch the place with us inside, aren’t they?” I disconnect the call. “His number’s just ringing out.”

“Call Eoin.”

I try his number, knowing he probably won’t answer, but he does straight away.

“Quickly, Jaine. I can already smell smoke.”

“Jaine, where the fuck are you?” Eoin sounds worn out with worry. I’ve had so many missed calls from him.

“St. Peters. Padraig is here too. They’re about to torch the place with us inside. The door has been barricaded from the outside.”

“Fuck!” I can hear the devastation in his voice, and then I hear the familiar sound in the background as he punches the wall. Guilt spirals through me. I’ve done this to him. He may have weakened me, but I’ve weakened him. We’re each other’s kryptonite. “I’m leaving now. I’ll call the fire department on the way.”

I disconnect the call. That’s when I see the flames licking up the outside of the stained-glass.

“What about the windows? Can’t we just smash them?”

“They’ve been treated, so they’re everything-proof, Jaine.”

“Irish.” He raises his gaze to where I’m currently looking. The roof is on fire.

“How long will it take to burn to the ground?”

“It’s difficult to say. Many of the oldest parts will be made of wood, so they’ll go up like tinder.” I watch a frown cross his face. This is his special place, and because of me, it’s going to be burned to the ground.

“Irish… I’m so sorry.” I know words don’t help when you’re about to lose something that means so much, but I don’t know what else I can do.

Walking over, he wraps his arms around me. “It’s only a building, Jaine.”

“But the memories.”

He taps his head. “They’re all in here, darlin’.”

We stand there with our arms wrapped around each other as the place slowly fills with smoke, and the roof creaks and groans as the wooden joists turn to ash.

“Let’s get under a pew. It’ll be safer there, and there’ll be less smoke.”

We crawl underneath the one farthest back and closest to the entrance. Due to how narrow it is, Irish lies on the floor, and I lie on top of him. All we can do now is wait.

“Tell me something, Jaine. Anything at all.” His arms are wrapped around me, holding me tight against his chest. I know he’s trying to distract me from the fact that the smoke is starting to form a thick cloud.

“I always feel safe when I’m with you.” It’s true. I remember the feeling enveloping me when I got into the SUV after killing Lebedev.

He kisses the top of my head. “That’s because I’ll do anything to keep you safe.”

I tighten my hold around him, hoping in some way I can make him feel safe too.

“The first time I came here was for Cillian and Sarah’s wedding. When I walked inside, I felt you. It’s as if you were here.”

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