Page 15 of Cowboy (Fury Vipers MC: Dublin Chapter #4)

CAOIMHE

SIX WEEKS AGO

T he sun beats down mercilessly on me as I watch Saoirse play.

It's been almost a year since Saoirse and I were brought to this mansion that feels like a prison. It’s been hell.

Absolute hell. I’ve been used and abused to the point I no longer recognize myself.

I’m at the lowest I’ve ever been. There have been many times I’ve contemplated ending it all.

"Caoimhe," Saoirse calls, her voice bright as she runs toward me. "Look what I made!"

I force a smile as I turn to her, pushing down the ache in my heart.

She's adapted to life here far too easily for my liking, but I can't blame her. She's just a child, and compared to her life before, this place must seem like heaven. She’s the reason I haven’t ended my life. I’m worried what’ll happen if I leave her behind.

I’m not stupid; I know that once she gets older, she’ll end up just like me, and that’s not something I’ll ever let happen.

I’m still trying to find a way out of here, trying my hardest every damn day to come up with an escape plan. I almost made it out once, but I was caught. I was beaten so badly, I couldn’t see Saoirse for almost a month because I wasn't able to move.

"It's beautiful, sweetheart," I say, admiring the flower crown she's made. “Are you hungry?”

Saoirse was brought here to become a child for Mr. and Mrs. Blackwood, but Saoirse wasn’t happy to leave my side, so during the day, I would be the one to watch over her, and when she went to sleep, that’s when Mr. Blackwood and his friends would have their fun.

Four months ago, Mrs. Blackwood died from a heart attack.

Since then, the air in this mansion has changed.

It’s tense and unsettling. Mr. Blackwood has become more volatile, his moods swinging wildly from one extreme to another.

He's drinking more, becoming more violent.

I've felt his rage, being on the receiving end of one too many of his violent outbursts.

The rape is even more disgusting and violent than before.

It's hard to pretend it's not happening, especially when he's leaving me with tears and in so much pain when he's done.

"Yes," Saoirse replies, her gaze darting between me and the house. Even though she's untouched, and she's in a better place than she was with her mam, she still feels the tension in the air.

"Well then, let's go get some lunch," I tell her, taking her small hand in mine.

As we walk back to the main house, I scan our surroundings, always on the lookout for potential escape routes or weaknesses in security.

But as always, the guards are vigilant, their eyes constantly roving over the grounds.

In the kitchen, Maria is preparing sandwiches. Her movements are stiff, and I can see she's favoring her left side. My heart aches for her, but I know there's little I can do to help.

"Here you go, little one," Maria says, handing Saoirse a plate with a smile that doesn't quite reach her eyes. "And for you, Caoimhe."

As I take the plate, our eyes meet. I wish I could do more for her, for all the women trapped here.

She's had four children during her time here, all of whom are boys, which was a relief for Maria, but it does mean that once they're old enough, they'll be taken from her.

For right now, all I can do is focus on keeping Saoirse safe and finding a way out.

After lunch, Saoirse goes down for her nap, and I'm summoned to Mr. Blackwood's study. My stomach churns with dread as I make my way there. I know what's in store for me. I'm the one he comes to the most, the one he uses and abuses most often.

As I enter the room, the smell of whiskey hits me like a wall. Mr. Blackwood is slouched in his chair, his eyes bloodshot and unfocused.

"Ah, there you are, my dear," he slurs, gesturing for me to come closer. "I've been thinking about you all day."

I steel myself, pushing down the revulsion and fear. I have to be strong, have to survive, for Saoirse's sake.

As I approach, Mr. Blackwood suddenly lurches to his feet, swaying slightly. "You know, since Margaret died, I've been lonely," he says, his voice thick with emotion and alcohol. "But you... you remind me of her when she was young."

I freeze, unsure of where this is going. Mr. Blackwood has never spoken to me like this before.

He reaches out, his hand cupping my cheek. I fight the urge to flinch away. "Perhaps," he muses, "it's time for a change. How would you like to be the new Mrs. Blackwood?"

My mind reels at his words. Become his wife? The thought makes me sick. There's no way in hell I'd ever allow that to happen.

Before I can respond, Mr. Blackwood's mood shifts again. His grip on my face tightens painfully. "You think you're too good for me?" he snarls, his breath hot on my face. "Remember your place, girl."

With that, he shoves me against the wall.

I brace myself for what's to come, closing my eyes and trying to retreat into my mind as I've done so many times before.

His fingers clench around my neck as he begins his assault on me.

The same shit just a different day. I take a deep breath, blocking him out.

I have no fight left in me. I used to. When I first came here, I'd fight like hell, but I'd be beaten horrendously, to the point of being on the verge of going unconscious, and the men wouldn't care.

They'd still take whatever the hell they wanted.

I'd still be raped, even while barely conscious and bleeding.

I think about Ciarán and the kiss we shared. I always think about him and the way he made me feel safe.

His hands roam my body, rough and demanding. I try to retreat further into my mind, to escape this nightmare, but his harsh voice drags me back.

"Look at me," he growls, his hand gripping my chin forcefully.

I open my eyes, meeting his gaze. I hate when he does this, when he makes me look at him while he does whatever the hell he wants to me.

He thrusts into me brutally. While I stare at him, my mind drifts away, taking me from the horrors of what’s happening to me. I think about escaping, and I imagine what mine and Saoirse’s life would be like if we were away from here, safe and free.

“You have been here almost a year now,” he growls low once he’s finished with me. “You have yet to get pregnant. Are you unable to bear children?”

I swallow hard as his grip tightens on my jaw.

"I don't know," I whisper, fear coiling in my stomach. If he thinks I can't have children, what will he do to me?

His eyes narrow dangerously. "Perhaps we need to have you examined. Ensure everything is... functioning properly."

The implication in his words makes me shudder. I've heard whispers from the other women about the examinations some have endured. They're brutal, invasive, and often result in even more trauma.

"Please," I say, hating the tremor in my voice. "I'm sure it's just stress. Or timing."

Mr. Blackwood's grip loosens slightly, but his eyes remain cold. "For your sake, I hope you're right. I have no use for barren women."

With that, he shoves me away. I stumble, catching myself against his desk.

"Get out," he snarls. "I'll send for you later."

I don't need to be told twice. I hurry from the room, my heart pounding. As soon as I'm in the hallway, I lean against the wall, trying to catch my breath and calm my racing thoughts.

I make my way back to the room I share with Saoirse, my mind whirling.

What if I can never get pregnant? The thought of bringing a child into this hell is unbearable.

There’s no way I’d want to have a baby in this evilness.

I shudder, thinking of what Mr. Blackwood might do if he decides I'm useless to him.

As I enter the room, I see Saoirse still napping peacefully. Looking at her innocent face, I know that I have to get us out of here, no matter what it takes.

I sit on the edge of my bed and not for the first time wonder what the hell Saoirse’s birth mother was thinking when she sold her. Was she in a dark place or did she just not want the sweet little girl that is the brightest spark in my life?

As I'm lost in thought, there's a soft knock at the door. I tense, fearing it might be Mr. Blackwood again, but when I open it, I find Maria standing there, her eyes wide with urgency.

"Caoimhe," she whispers, glancing nervously down the hallway. "I need to speak with you. It's important."

I let her into the room and close the door behind her. “What’s wrong, Maria?”

“There are people coming,” she says hurriedly. “Mr. Blackwood owes a lot of money. He’s been losing money for years and now it’s finally caught up to him.”

My heart races at Maria's words. "What do you mean? Who's coming?"

"I overheard Mr. Blackwood on the phone," Maria explains in a hushed voice. "They're coming to collect what he owes them, and..." She hesitates, her eyes darting to the sleeping Saoirse. "They're interested in the merchandise here."

A chill runs down my spine. "When?" I ask, my mind already racing with possibilities. This could be our chance to escape, but it could also mean even worse danger.

Before Maria can answer, gunfire fills the air. “They’re here,” I breathe.

The sound of gunfire sends a jolt of adrenaline through my body. I quickly scoop up the now-awake and terrified Saoirse, holding her close.

"Maria, what do we do?" I ask, my voice barely above a whisper.

Maria's eyes are wide with fear, but there's a determination in them I haven't seen before. "We need to get out of here. This might be our only chance."

I nod, my mind racing. "But how? The guards..."

"They'll be distracted by whoever's attacking," Maria says. "If we're careful, we might be able to slip away in the chaos."

Just then, we hear heavy footsteps in the hallway. Maria presses a finger to her lips, motioning for us to be quiet. We hold our breath as the footsteps pass by our door.

"Now," Maria whispers. "We need to move now."

With Saoirse in my arms, we creep out into the hallway. The sound of gunfire is louder here, punctuated by shouts and the occasional scream. My heart is pounding so hard I'm sure it'll give us away.

We make our way down the stairs, pausing at each corner to check for danger. When we reach the ground floor, we see bodies, guards, lying motionless on the marble floor. I turn Saoirse's face away, shielding her from the gruesome sight.

"This way," Maria hisses, leading us toward the kitchen. "There's a back door..."

But as we enter the kitchen, we find we're not alone. A group of men, heavily armed and dressed in black, are there. They turn as we enter, their weapons raised.

"Well, well," one of them says, a cruel smile spreading across his face. "Looks like we've found some of the merchandise."

I clutch Saoirse tighter, my body tensing to run. But there's nowhere to go. We're surrounded.

"Please," I say, my voice shaking. "We're not merchandise. We're people. Let us go."

The man laughs, a harsh, mirthless sound. "Sorry, love. But you're worth far too much to let go. Besides, our buyer is particularly interested in fresh stock from this location."

My blood runs cold at his words. We're not being rescued. We're being stolen.

Before I can react, one of the men grabs Maria, while another reaches for me. I try to fight, to hold onto Saoirse, but a sharp pain explodes in my head and everything goes black.

When I come to, I'm in darkness. The air is stale and I can feel the vibration of an engine. A truck, maybe? Or a plane? I try to move, but my hands are bound behind my back.

"Saoirse?" I call out, my voice hoarse. "Maria?"

"I'm here," I hear Saoirse's small voice whisper from somewhere to my left. "I'm scared, Caoimhe."

"It's okay, sweetheart," I say, trying to keep my voice calm despite the fear churning in my gut. "I'm here. We'll be okay."

"Maria?" I call out again, but there's no response. My heart sinks. I hope she's alright, wherever she is.

The vehicle we're in suddenly lurches to a stop. I hear muffled voices, then the sound of doors opening. Bright light floods in as the back of the truck is opened, momentarily blinding me.

"Alright, ladies," a gruff voice calls out. "Time to move. And don't try anything stupid. We won't hesitate to hurt the kid if you do."

My blood boils at the threat, but I know I can't risk Saoirse's safety. As my eyes adjust to the light, I see we're at some kind of airfield. A small private jet waits nearby.

Rough hands grab me, hauling me to my feet. I stumble, my legs weak from being bound for so long. As they push me toward the plane, I catch sight of other women being herded in the same direction. My heart sinks as I realize how many of us there are.

"Caoimhe," Saoirse whimpers as they push us up the steps into the plane.

"It's okay, sweetheart," I whisper, wishing I could hold her. "Just stay close to me."

Inside the plane, they strap us into seats. As one of the men secures my seatbelt, I catch a glimpse of a tattoo on his wrist. It’s a symbol I don't recognize but one I vow to remember: an infinity symbol wrapped around a skull that has a sword through the middle.

As the plane takes off, I close my eyes, trying to fight back tears of despair. We were so close to freedom, only to end up in an even worse situation. But I can't give up hope. For Saoirse's sake, I have to stay strong. I have to find a way out of this nightmare.

The flight seems to last forever. With no windows near me, I have no idea where we're going or how long we've been in the air.

Saoirse eventually falls into an uneasy sleep, her head resting against my shoulder.

I stay awake, alert, trying to gather any information I can from the whispered conversations of our captors.

Finally, I feel the plane begin to descend. My stomach churns with dread as I wonder what horrors await us at our destination.

As we are herded off the plane, I blink in the bright sunlight. The air is cool and damp, a stark contrast to the tropical heat we left behind. With a jolt, I realize where we are.

Ireland. They've brought us back to Ireland.

For a moment, hope flares in my chest. We're back home. Maybe, just maybe, I’ll be able to escape now we’re here.