Page 21 of Cowboy (Fury Vipers MC: Dublin Chapter #4)

COWBOY

A s Saoirse drifts off to sleep, exhausted from the excitement of the day, Caoimhe and I make our way back downstairs. She’s still uneasy after meeting the woman at the store.

"Caoimhe," I start gently as we settle on the couch. "There's something we need to talk about. It’s about Dylan."

She tenses beside me, her eyes darkening. "What about him?"

I take a deep breath, steeling myself. "We never did speak about the evidence you found. Solid evidence that he was working with the traffickers."

Caoimhe goes very still, her face pale in the dim light. "You’ve seen it?"

I nod grimly. "Yeah, I've seen it. It's pretty damning, Caoimhe. There's no doubt he was involved."

She closes her eyes, pain etched across her features. "I knew it. Deep down, I think I always knew. But hearing it confirmed..." She trails off, shaking her head.

"I'm so sorry," I say softly, reaching out to take her hand. "I can't imagine how hard this must be for you."

Caoimhe's eyes snap open, a fire burning in them that I haven't seen since before her ordeal. "Don't be sorry. He made his choices. What I want to know is: what are we going to do about it?"

I'm taken aback by her sudden intensity. "We?"

She nods firmly. "Yes, we. He's my brother, Ciarán. I need to be part of this."

I hesitate, torn between wanting to protect her and respecting her strength. "Caoimhe, are you sure? After everything you've been through?—"

"Exactly," she interrupts. "After everything I've been through, I deserve answers. I deserve justice. Not just for me, but for Saoirse and all the others."

I study her face, seeing the determination there. It's a glimpse of the old Caoimhe, the fighter I fell for. "Okay," I say finally. "But we do this carefully. Your safety, and Saoirse's, comes first."

Caoimhe nods, squeezing my hand. "Thank you. So, what do we know?"

I take a deep breath, organizing my thoughts. "We know he's been working with the trafficking ring for years. The evidence you found suggests he was pretty high up in the organization. We've been trying to track him down, but he's gone to ground."

"Any leads?" she asks, her voice steady.

"A few," I admit. "We think he might be in Eastern Europe. Romania or Bulgaria, possibly. But it's just whispers at this point."

Caoimhe is quiet for a moment, processing this information. "What about the others? The men who... sold us?"

“We’ve yet to figure out who’s behind it, but I’m determined to. I have a feeling that once I find Dylan, he’ll give us more information.”

Caoimhe nods, her expression hardening. "We need to find him, Ciarán. I need to know why he did this. Why he betrayed his own sister."

I run a hand through my hair, understanding her need but also worried about the toll this could take on her. "I get it, Caoimhe. But we need to be smart about this. Dylan's dangerous, and he's got powerful connections. We can't just go charging in."

She takes a deep breath, visibly trying to calm herself. "You're right. I know you're right. It's just... hard to be patient when I think about what he's done."

"I know," I say softly, squeezing her hand. "But we'll get him, I promise. And when we do, you'll get your answers."

We sit in silence for a moment, the weight of the situation settling around us. Then Caoimhe speaks again, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Ciarán... what if he was involved in my kidnapping? What if he knew where I was all this time?"

The thought had crossed my mind too, and it makes my blood boil. "If that's the case," I say, my voice low and dangerous, "then he'll pay for every second you suffered. I swear it."

Caoimhe looks at me, her eyes shining with unshed tears. "Thank you," she whispers. "For everything. For not giving up on me, for helping with Saoirse, for... for being here."

I reach out, gently cupping her face in my hand. "I'll always be here for you, Caoimhe. Always."

For a moment, we're both still, caught in the intensity of the moment. Then, slowly, Caoimhe leans in, her lips meeting mine in a soft, hesitant kiss.

The kiss is gentle and tentative at first, but quickly deepens as months of pent-up emotion and longing come pouring out. I pull Caoimhe closer, one hand tangling in her hair as the other wraps around her waist. She melts into me, her fingers gripping my shirt as if afraid I'll disappear.

When we finally break apart, we're both breathless. Caoimhe's eyes are wide, a mixture of desire and uncertainty swirling in their depths.

"I'm sorry," she whispers, starting to pull away. "I shouldn't have?—"

"Don't," I interrupt, keeping her close. "Don't apologize. I've wanted to do that for so long."

She looks up at me, vulnerability clear on her face. "Really?"

I nod, gently tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "Really. But, Caoimhe, we don't have to rush anything. We can take this as slow as you need."

She's quiet for a moment, considering. Then she leans her forehead against mine. "I don't know if I'm ready for... everything. But I know I want this. I want you."

"Then we'll figure it out together," I promise. "One day at a time."

Caoimhe nods, a small smile playing at her lips. She opens her mouth to say something else, but is cut off by a cry from upstairs.

"Caoimhe!" Saoirse's frightened voice echoes through the house.

In an instant, Caoimhe is on her feet, rushing toward the stairs. I follow close behind, my heart racing. As we enter the guest room, we find Saoirse sitting up in bed, tears streaming down her face.

"Shh, it's okay," Caoimhe soothes, gathering the girl into her arms. "I'm here. You're safe."

I hang back in the doorway, not wanting to intrude but ready to help if needed. As Saoirse's sobs subside, I hear her whisper, "I dreamed they came back for us."

My heart clenches at the fear in her voice. Caoimhe meets my eyes over Saoirse's head, her own gaze filled with determination.

"No one's going to take you away," she says firmly, to both Saoirse and me. "We're safe now. Ciarán and I will make sure of it."

As I watch Caoimhe comfort Saoirse, I'm struck by the strength of this woman. Despite everything she's been through, she's still fighting, still protecting. And I swear to myself that I'll do whatever it takes to keep them both safe, to help them heal.

The road ahead won't be easy, I know that. We still have Dylan to deal with, and the rest of the trafficking ring to bring down. But looking at Caoimhe and Saoirse, I know it's worth it. Whatever challenges come our way, we'll face them together.

As Saoirse's breathing evens out and she drifts back to sleep, Caoimhe carefully extracts herself from the bed. She looks exhausted, the emotional toll of the day clearly weighing on her.

"You should get some rest too," I say softly as we step out into the hallway.

Caoimhe nods, running a hand through her hair. "You're right. It's been... a lot."

I hesitate for a moment, then ask, "Do you want me to stay? In case she has another nightmare?"

Caoimhe looks at me, gratitude and something else, something warmer in her eyes. "Would you? I'd feel better knowing you're here."

"Of course," I reply without hesitation. "I'll take the chair."

As we settle in for the night, Caoimhe in the bed and me in the armchair by the window, I can't help but reflect on how much has changed in such a short time.

A few weeks ago, I was still searching desperately for any sign of Caoimhe.

Now, she's here, safe but carrying scars both visible and hidden.

I watch her as she falls asleep, her face finally peaceful in slumber.

I vow silently to do whatever it takes to keep that peace, to help her and Saoirse heal and build a new life.

As for Dylan and the others responsible for their suffering.

.. Well, they'd better pray the police find them before I do.

With that thought, I lean back in the chair, letting myself drift off to sleep, ready to face whatever tomorrow brings.

* * *

As morning breaks, I wake with a crick in my neck from sleeping upright in the armchair.

For a moment, I'm disoriented, then the events of yesterday come rushing back.

I glance over at the bed where Caoimhe lies sleeping, her face more relaxed than I've seen it since her return.

Saoirse is curled against her side, one small hand clutching Caoimhe's shirt even in sleep.

I slip quietly from the room, heading downstairs to put on coffee. The house is quiet, peaceful, but I can't shake the feeling that this calm is temporary. Dylan is still out there, and as long as he is, Caoimhe and Saoirse aren't truly safe.

My phone buzzes as I'm measuring coffee grounds. It's Jerry.

"Got something for you," he says without preamble when I answer. "A possible sighting of Dylan in Vienna three days ago."

My heart races. "How solid is it?"

"One of my guys was working out there. Bastard was using the name Patrick Murphy, staying at some fancy hotel like he hasn't got a target on his back."

I jot down the details. "Thanks, Jer. I owe you."

"I spoke with Travis this morning. Son, he's mighty pissed you haven't told him you've found Caoimhe. He's arriving this afternoon and he wants to meet."

I hesitate, thinking of Caoimhe and Saoirse upstairs. "Tell him I'll be there. But I can't stay long."

"Will do. I'll speak to you later."

After hanging up, I stand at the kitchen counter, my mind racing. Vienna. It's a lead, finally. But what next? I can't just leave Caoimhe and Saoirse, but I can't let this opportunity slip away either. And I know that Travis, Jer, and Pyro will want to come with me.

"Who was that?"

I turn to find Caoimhe standing in the doorway, wrapped in a worn cardigan that's too big for her frame. She looks vulnerable but alert, her eyes fixed on the notepad where I've scribbled Vienna.

"Jerry," I admit, seeing no point in hiding it. "One of his men has spotted Dylan in Vienna."

She stiffens then moves to the coffee pot. "When do we leave?"

"Caoimhe—"