Page 203 of Dirty Padraig: Dirty Dusters

“He was, but now he can’t. You know what this means, Jaine.”

“What?” But I already know.

“It’s over. You can come home.”

CHAPTERSIXTY-EIGHT

JAINE

The Docks, Hudson Yards

I haven’t heardfrom Eoin or Irish since we returned two days ago.

Why bother coming all the way to the west coast to check up on me to then blank me as soon as we return to New York? Maybe their silence has something to do with their talk with Lucifer. A conversation that, through choice, I wasn’t party to.

I stare up at the containers and inhale the familiar oppressive air into my lungs.

Today is Luciano day.

Stepping off the hog, I glance around. There are several Duster vehicles here. Maybe the entire family wants to pay their last disrespects to the Sicilian. Who can blame them? He tried to kill all of them, after all. Each has an axe to grind.

I make my way on foot but hesitate when I get there. Which container? I follow my gut, approaching the rusty door of the house of horrors that witnessed the demise of big Malky McGrath within its freezer-like confines, then I push it open.

Good guess.

I take in all of the adult O’Connells. I then make eye contact with Jessie, watching as tears immediately fill her eyes. I walk slowly over and stand in front of her. I know she’ll want me to acknowledge what we are.

I refuse to let her become another keeper of secrets. I know that her over-confidence is bravado in the main. She’s way too sensitive a soul to carry that heavy burden.

“Just so you know, there are no refunds or exchanges allowed, so it looks like you’re stuck with me as your sister.” My voice pierces the silence.

She wraps her arms around me to the sound of hushed whispers and shuffled feet, hugging me so close I'm struggling to breathe for the second time in recent weeks. This time, it’s in a good way. I smile at her when she eventually lets me go.

I’m aware those present will now be comparing us and looking for physical similarities. While there are several, I know that my doppelganger is my other sister, Bailey, who also now knows about our blood relationship, as do Tadgh and Conor and Delaney.

Everyone present will also now know that my biological father is one of the most feared MC presidents on the west coast. That I live the life I lead not through choice but because I was born with MC blood running through my veins.

Because Iama biker.

Turning around, I nod at Duke, and he smiles gently in response. We still haven’t spoken about Ace. About the fact that a comment I made three years ago resulted in the death of his only son. We need to do that. We need to find our own closure.

I then take in Luciano Ruocco. He’s chained to the ceiling and hanging down like some sort of fucked-up Sicilian pinata. His mouth has been taped shut, which I’m grateful for. I’ve heard more than enough from him in this lifetime.

“There’s one more thing I need to say while everyone is here. It may not be the best timing in the world, but then again, maybe it is given our present company. I shared it with his sister before she met her maker at the hands of her husband, so it’s only right that her brother takes the same secret to the grave.”

I stand before Luciano and stare up at him, the hatred in his eyes is almost tangible.

I then turn to look at Fergal, my guts churning as I ready myself to deliver my last reveal, this time to the patriarch of the O’Connell family himself. I make eye contact with those who already know—Irish, Duke, Dylan, Roisin, and finally, Eoin.

“This secret goes no further than this room. If it ever travels beyond, I will know that it’s been spilled by someone present because the only person outside these walls who knows is Paul Delaney. He would never betray me. I trust him with my life.” My eyes connect with Sarah’s, and she nods. “If it goes any further, family or not, I will hunt you down and I will kill you.”

I raise my gaze to the ceiling, suddenly flooded with second thoughts. I push them aside. These people are my family. They’re Fin and JJ’s family.

I walk across to Fergal and stand in front of him. I can tell from his marred brow that he doesn’t know what I’m about to say. That Roisin has held on to my secret as I have hers.

I put my hand in my pocket. My fingers tighten around the engraved bullet. I motion for him to hold out his hand, which he does. Holding mine over his, I unclench my fist, letting the bullet drop. As soon as I move my hand away, it immediately becomes visible.

Everyone stares at it. Everyone knows exactly what it is.

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