Page 186 of Dirty Padraig: Dirty Dusters

“It’s good to see you, Jaine.” Da greets her in his usual manner as she takes her seat to the right of Eoin.

“You too, Fergal.”

“Jaine, I don’t know what to… how to….” It’s not like my da to be lost for words, but he is. And it’s because he feels emotional.

What she did for the family went above and beyond.

Everyone around the table now knows just how much she loves me and my brother, not that it was ever in dispute.

There’s just that one remaining niggle for me. That after everything she and I went through together, why she did what she did three years ago? If she’d fight tooth and nail for me, if she’d die for me, then why walk away without a backward glance or a second thought?

Dylan says I need to speak to Eoin about that. I intend to do just that right after this meeting.

“There’s no need to say anything, Fergal. It’s over. Sophia’s dead and Luciano’s hopefully imminent demise will mark the end of the toxic Ruocco line. It won’t bring Ace, Raf, or Abel back, but at least we’ve delivered justice on their behalf. I’ve spoken with the others, more importantly, Rodolfo. As much as he would have liked to have played a part in Luc’s ending, he appreciates that this is the best way forward for all concerned parties. He’s only grateful he can finally lay Raf’s ghost to rest.”

We all show our respect to our fallen brothers with a short silence.

“You clearly had cause for celebration, Jaine,” Aidan says it how it is, which is what he always does, as he raises an eyebrow at the marks on her neck.

She doesn’t respond.

He then smirks between Eoin and me without saying another word. Jessie whispers in Dylan’s ear, but he just looks worried. Cillian and Da remain silent.

Eoin stares at me. He’s aware he didn’t inflict all those marks on her throat. He knows the other person to do so was me.

It’s difficult reading his expression. Guilt. Jealousy. A combination of both.

There’s one that’s notably missing. Rage.

Why is that? I suspect I’m about to find out.

* * *

“Take a seat, Padraig.”

He’s looking out the window at the best view the building has to offer. It’s my thinking that having the best view, the best office, and the best of everything no longer matters to him. The only thing that does is Jaine.

I take a seat on one of the tan-colored executive chairs. Both have been pulled out from under the desk, so I suspect Dylan will join us shortly.

My eyes drift to the leather-topped surface. By all accounts, the desk was a gift from Jaine. She insisted that the previous one was a health hazard due to the number of times Eoin had fucked Candice over it. She then proceeded to have it chucked on a bonfire.

I can only imagine my elder brother’s outrage at the time. He loved that desk. It turns out he loves Jaine more.

Nothing else has changed in here. Same white background. Same wooden case filled with tomes on finance and economics. Same black and white images of our ancestors lining the walls. Past Dusters. At some point, my image will hang beside theirs, as will my son’s.

Mine and Jaine’s son. And little JJ’s, too, of course.

I stare at Eoin. He’s lost weight. He’s clearly been working out a lot more than usual. The less polished look suits him. It makes him look more human.

Is he deliberately not talking, or is he contemplating what it is he has to say? We both know this conversation is well overdue, and there’s a reason for that. A reason I suspect I’m not going to like.

“Sorry, I’m late.” Dylan enters the room, closing the door behind him. He looks pale. Like he’s worried something’s about to kick off. He takes the seat beside me and fidgets.

Eoin eventually turns around, his gaze dropping to my neck. He’ll think Jaine and I fucked. Will he mention the bruising? There seems little point, given he knows who inflicted it.

He takes a seat and then looks between Dylan and me. He’s lost the air of arrogance that he used to wear like a badge of honor.

Jaine’s changed him.

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