Page 146 of Dirty Eoin

He’s referring to her burner. My reply is instant. “You will do no such thing. What if it rings or vibrates? If it’s still in her possession, it may be the only lifeline they have.”

He shrugs. “So what should we do, then?”

“Use the tracking system to locate the vehicle. If they have been abducted, then it’s unlikely those involved would have taken them anywhere in a Duster SUV. It will at least give us a place to start. We have nothing else to go on. Once we’ve located the car, we can check the surrounding CCTV in the area. Try to track their path or at least find out who took them and to where.”

“I’ll set off for my apartment now. It’ll be easier to access the systems from there.”

“Quickly, Dylan. We’ve not a moment to lose.”

He knows exactly what I’m saying. That every second they’re gone they become more at risk and less likely to be alive.

I look at my da. He’s aged in the space of an hour. The love of his life taken by God knows who and to God knows where.

I’m grateful that he’s letting me handle things. He knows I’m more than capable. That the only thing missing from my life is a wife.

But then, I have a wife. A wife I promised to protect.

I can feel my monster surfacing, but I need to remain calm and focused. There are little ones in the house. Women. I’m not in a shipping container on the docks and there’s no one to kill.

Yet.

But there will be. Because if anyone has harmed her then there will be hell to pay, and I will personally extract that payment limb by limb and with my bare fucking hands.

Nothing must happen to her.

Nothing.

CHAPTERFORTY-SEVEN

ROISIN

Saint Patrick’s Cathedral, Manhattan, New York

Malkyand his heavy have gone, leaving Jaine holding on to the end of a piece of rope, the other end of which is tied, one can only hope quite firmly, to the hilt of a sword that’s currently hanging over my head.

I can’t topple my chair. For one, it may just see me splayed out on the floor with another part of me then directly exposed to the McGrath’s Sword of Damocles, and I’m not sure my old bones could sustain the cold of the hard ground for very long. For another, my chair has been set in a concrete slab. Weighted so it drops like a stone. I know the method well. The Dusters use the same one to sink bodies to a watery grave.

I take in Jaine Jones. While she’s beautiful in her own unique way, both my boys have wined and dined females with far greater claims to beauty. I know that’s not what’s attracted each of them to her. It’s because she has a certainje ne sais quoi. It’s difficult to put your finger on exactly what it is about her. It’s a combination of many things. She has an air of something.

Strength. Determination. Fearlessness. Loyalty. The ability to commit cold-blooded murder with ease.

Fergal knew he was looking at the future Ma Duster. That by hook or by crook we had to make it so. Don’t get me wrong, knowing what we do now and factoring in young Finian, we would never get in the way of her taking the vows with our Paddy if he were available. But he’s not. He’s already taken them with Sophia, and nothing can free him now apart from Sophia’s death. And I’ve seen where they live. It’s the Sicilian equivalent of Fort Knox. No one is getting anywhere near her or Paddy.

Like Eoin, I underestimated Jaine Jones. Or should I say Jaine O’Connell.

My daughter-in-law. Married to the brother she insists she doesn’t love. My eldest. While pining over the one she does. My youngest.

A woman I had Molly verbally threaten the life of. A woman who has my very own life in her hands.

Having been on the receiving end of two brutal backhanders from Malky, her face is so badly bruised her eye has almost swollen shut. She didn’t make a sound.

She took what he gave, and she did so for me. She knows as well as I do that as much as I’m young and strong mentally, at almost seventy years old, my body is becoming older and weaker.

“Thank you.”

She looks across at me as she’s sat there dressed head to toe in black and wearing biker boots.

“For?”

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