Page 189 of Dirty Padraig: Dirty Dusters

I can’t afford to miss.

It feels strange turning up as my alter-ego, but to perform as The Exterminator, I need to dress for the part. Because that’s what it is—a part I choose to play.

As Dylan rightly says, we all have two sides. It’s time for Eoin to meet the other side of me.

The last time I was here, we fucked outside in the rain after I found out one more thing about him. That he’s an experienced cage fighter. I want to see him fight. I want to see him lose control. Then I want him to fuck me into oblivion while he’s all bloody and sweaty.

There are still so many things I don’t know about him. I told him everything there was to know about me bar this one reveal, but it’s almost like he never expected us to go the distance, so he never saw any point in revealing any more than he had to. That the countdown would begin, and the final bell would ring time on what we shared as soon as Irish returned.

Today I’m just here to stop them from killing each other.

It’s still dark. I’m two hours ahead of schedule, but I figured it was better to be too early than too late. I stick in one ear pod, pull on my balaclava, then grab the bag that contains my rifle from the back seat.

With a nod at Dylan, I alight the vehicle. He’s the only O’Connell who can contact me today. I still haven’t given Eoin or Irish my new number. There seems little point, giving I seldom use my burner. These days, The Exterminator only surfaces for family occasions.

Dylan’s given me the heads up on where the gunfight will take place. It’s exactly where Liam parked up that first time.

With my bag thrown over my shoulder, I skulk to the container he told me to use as my nest. I could shoot from a standing position, but the accuracy is greater when I use a stand. I’m not aiming at a skull today. I’m aiming at a much smaller target—another weapon.

Once I get everything positioned, I lie on my stomach, poised and ready. It’s freezing, the breeze being carried off the river making it even more so. I know my body will acclimatize soon. It always does.

The conditions aren’t favorable, so they make it difficult to see into the distance. All I can do is stare at the containers that surround me. I count them. I try to read the worn adverts—anything to pass the time.

The first car pulls up around an hour and a half later.

I recognize the plate immediately. It’s the SUV Dec usually drives. I suspect he won’t be doing so today. I watch as it pulls into the clearing. I then watch as Eoin steps out of the driver’s door.

Even from here, I can feel his inner turmoil. He did wrong. He betrayed his brother, but as Dylan says, we can’t undo the past. In as many months, he’s saved Padraig’s life twice and mine four times. I know that sort of payback doesn’t automatically heal the festering wound of disrespect, but after what I put him through, he’s paid his dues. To me, at least. I need to explain that to Irish.

I didn’t make it easy for Eoin to fall in love with me, the same as he didn’t make it easy for me to fall in love with him. It happened despite the obstacles we set for each other, not because of them. Subconsciously, have we both continued to fight our emotions?

Maybe it’s not something you need for balance, but someone.

I watch as he disappears from view. I check my watch. Seven-forty-five a.m.

Not five minutes later, the second vehicle pulls up. Time passes. Is Irish regretting his impulsiveness? Is he having second thoughts?

I watch as he steps out of the vehicle. It’s his other side that’s with us today. I know immediately that he’s not having second thoughts because I can instantly feel his rage. Dylan’s right. He is bloodthirsty, and that’s exactly what he’s baying for today. He wants to spill his own brother’s blood. That’s what I need to stop from happening.

The time counts down. I know they won’t start early. I know they won’t begin late. I know the battle will commence at precisely eight a.m.

CHAPTERSIXTY-THREE

JAINE

The Docks, Hudson Yards

I watchEoin come back into view.

Rubbing my hands together to get the blood circulating, I place my finger back over the trigger. I’m relieved when they stand side on to me. Had one given me their back, I would have had to move. That would have resulted in me having to change position, which could have led to me being too late to save the day.

I need to get their attention. I need to reveal myself. Then I need to talk some sense into them. Because I know Eoin won’t offer any further reasoning for something he already feels so much guilt over. I also know that, in his current mindset, Padraig won’t be prepared to listen anyway.

There’s less than a minute to go. They stand facing each other. I watch as they both reach for their weapons. As soon as I see the sun glint off the partially raised Glock, I pull the trigger.

Mine is the only shot fired.

The gun flies from Irish’s hand. I knew I had to take out his weapon. I knew Eoin would never have pulled his trigger.

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