Page 24 of Cowboy (Fury Vipers MC: Dublin Chapter #4)

COWBOY

T he morning of our departure arrives all too quickly.

As I load our bags into the car, I can't shake the feeling that everything is about to change.

Caoimhe emerges from the house, Saoirse's small hand clasped tightly in hers.

The little girl's eyes are red-rimmed, and I know saying goodbye has been hard on both of them.

"You ready?" I ask softly as Caoimhe approaches.

She nods, her jaw set with determination. "As I'll ever be."

We drive to Grá and Bozo's place in silence, the weight of what lies ahead hanging heavy between us. Saoirse clutches her favorite stuffed animal, a worn teddy bear I bought her shortly after they came to stay with me.

Grá meets us at the door, her warm smile a stark contrast to the tension we're all feeling. "Hey there, sweetheart," she says, kneeling down to Saoirse's level. "Are you ready for our sleepover?"

Saoirse nods hesitantly then turns to Caoimhe, her lower lip trembling. "You'll come back, right? You promise?"

Caoimhe kneels down, pulling Saoirse into a tight hug. "I promise, my love. We'll be back before you know it."

As they say their goodbyes, I pull Bozo aside. "Keep her safe," I murmur, my voice low and serious.

He nods, understanding the weight of what I'm asking. "With my life, brother. Nothing will touch her while you're gone."

Finally, it's time to leave. As we drive away, I catch sight of Saoirse in the rearview mirror, her small face pressed against the window. Caoimhe stares straight ahead, her hands clenched tightly in her lap.

"She'll be okay," I say softly, reaching over to take her hand. "Grá and Bozo will take good care of her."

Caoimhe nods but doesn't speak. I can see the conflict in her eyes, the need to confront her past warring with the desire to protect Saoirse.

At the airport, we meet up with Travis, Pyro, and Tank. The tension is palpable as we board the private jet Jer has arranged for us. As we take off, I can't help but wonder what awaits us in Vienna. Will we find Dylan? And if we do, what then?

Caoimhe sits beside me, her gaze fixed on the clouds outside the window. I know she's wrestling with her own demons, preparing herself for the confrontation to come. Whatever happens, I silently vow to be there for her, to help her through this final hurdle.

As the plane carries us toward Vienna and the answers we seek, I can't shake the feeling that nothing will ever be the same after this. But with Caoimhe by my side, I know we can face whatever comes.

The flight to Vienna is long and tense. Caoimhe alternates between staring out the window and dozing fitfully, her brow furrowed even in sleep.

I can only imagine the nightmares that plague her.

The rest of us review our intel, going over maps and possible locations as to where Dylan might be hiding.

As we begin our descent into Vienna International Airport, Pyro leans across the aisle toward me. "Remember, brother, we're here on club business. Whatever happens with Dylan, it's not personal. It's justice."

I nod, understanding his meaning. This isn't about revenge, it's about protecting our own and making sure these traffickers can never hurt anyone again.

But as I glance at Caoimhe, I know that for her, it's deeply personal.

She needs closure, needs to understand why her own brother betrayed her so completely.

We land just as the sun is setting, casting long shadows across the tarmac. As we disembark, I can feel Caoimhe tense beside me. This is it. We're here, in the same city as the man who sold her into hell.

"You okay?" I ask softly, placing a hand on her lower back.

She takes a deep breath, squaring her shoulders. "I have to be," she replies, her voice steady despite the fear I can see in her eyes.

We make our way through customs without incident, our cover story of being businessmen (and woman) here for a conference holding up under scrutiny. As we exit the airport, the cool evening air hits us, carrying with it the scents and sounds of a city preparing for night.

"Where to first?" Tank asks as we load our gear into the waiting van.

Travis pulls out his phone, checking the latest intel. "Our contact says Dylan was last seen near the Naschmarkt. We'll start there and see if we can pick up his trail."

As we drive through the city, I can't help but marvel at its beauty. The baroque architecture, the winding streets, the blend of old and new, it's a far cry from the grimy underworld we're here to infiltrate. Beside me, Caoimhe stares out the window, her expression unreadable.

We check into a small, nondescript hotel near the market district.

It's not fancy, but it'll serve as a good base of operations.

As we gather in Travis' room to plan our next move, I can see the determination hardening in everyone's eyes.

We're close now, closer than we've ever been to bringing Dylan to justice.

"Alright," Travis says, spreading a map of the city on the bed. "We'll split into teams. Tank and I will take the north end of the market. Pyro and Cowboy, you take the south. Caoimhe, I want you to stay here with?—"

"No," Caoimhe interrupts, her voice firm. "I'm coming with you. I need to be there when you find him."

Travis hesitates, clearly torn between wanting to protect Caoimhe and respecting her need for closure. Finally, he nods. "Alright. But you stay with Cowboy at all times, understood? And when we make our move on Dylan, you hang back. Let us handle it."

Caoimhe nods, relief evident in her eyes. "Thank you."

As we finalize our plans, I can't help but worry about what will happen when we finally confront Dylan. Will Caoimhe get the answers she needs? And how will she react when the club delivers its justice?

We head out into the night, the streets of Vienna alive with locals and tourists enjoying the mild evening. As we approach the Naschmarkt, I can feel the tension ratcheting up. Somewhere in this maze of stalls and cafes, Dylan might be hiding.

Caoimhe walks close beside me, her eyes darting from face to face in the crowd. I know she's searching for any sign of her brother, torn between hope and dread at the prospect of seeing him again.

"Remember," I murmur to her, "if you see him, don't approach. Signal me or Pyro, and we'll handle it."

She nods, but I can see the determination in her eyes. I just hope she can keep her promise when the moment comes.

As we weave through the market, the scents of spices and street food fill the air. Under different circumstances, it might be a pleasant evening. But tonight, every shadow holds a potential threat; every face in the crowd is a possible enemy.

Suddenly, Pyro tenses beside me. "Three o'clock," he says quietly. "By the flower stall."

I follow his gaze, and my heart jumps. There, examining a bouquet of roses, is a man who could be Dylan's twin. But is it really him?

Caoimhe gasps softly beside me, her hand gripping my arm. "It's him," she whispers, her voice a mixture of fear and anger. "It's Dylan."

I feel Caoimhe tense beside me, her body coiled like a spring ready to snap. I grab her arm, holding her back.

"Easy," I murmur. "Remember the plan."

She nods, but I can see the struggle in her eyes. Every instinct is telling her to confront Dylan, to demand answers. But she knows that's not how this works.

I signal to Pyro, who discreetly alerts Travis and Tank. We begin to close in, careful not to spook our target. Dylan seems oblivious, casually examining flowers as if he doesn't have a care in the world.

Suddenly, he looks up. His eyes scan the crowd, a flicker of unease crossing his face. Has he sensed something? For a moment, his gaze lands on Caoimhe. There's a flash of recognition, then shock.

Before we can react, Dylan bolts, shoving his way through the crowd.

"Shit," Pyro growls. "After him!"

We give chase, weaving through startled shoppers and overturned carts. I can hear Caoimhe's ragged breathing beside me as we run. Dylan is fast, but he's panicked, making mistakes. He takes a wrong turn, ending up in a dead-end alley.

As we corner him, Dylan's eyes are wild with fear. He looks nothing like the confident businessman we once knew. Now, he's just a cornered rat.

"It's over, Dylan," Travis says, his voice cold. "Time to answer for what you've done."

Dylan's gaze darts between us, finally settling on Caoimhe. "Sister," he says, his voice trembling. "I never thought I'd see you again."

Caoimhe steps forward, her face a mask of pain and anger. "Why, Dylan?" she demands. "Why did you do it? Your own sister..."

Dylan's shoulders slump. For a moment, he looks like he might break down. But then something hardens in his eyes.

"I had to take care of you. I gave up everything to ensure you were taken care of," he spits. "Our aunt liked us, maybe even loved us, but she wasn’t prepared to take care of us. That was left down to me. I was the one who became your parent even though I didn’t want to.

So when they approached, I saw my way out.

Not to mention the money. God, the money was good. "

Caoimhe recoils as if slapped. I step forward, placing myself between her and Dylan.

"You're going to tell us everything," I growl. "Every name, every location. And then you're going to face justice for what you've done."

As Pyro and Tank move to secure Dylan, I turn to Caoimhe. She's pale, shaking slightly.

"Are you okay?" I ask softly.

She shakes her head, tears welling in her eyes. "I don't know," she whispers. "I thought... I thought knowing why would help. But it just hurts more."

I pull her into my arms, holding her as she finally breaks down. Over her shoulder, I watch as the others lead Dylan away. His eyes meet mine over Caoimhe's shoulder, and I see a flicker of something, regret? Fear?, before he's gone.

I hold Caoimhe for a long moment, letting her cry out the pain and betrayal she's been carrying for so long. When her sobs finally subside, she pulls back, wiping her eyes.

"What happens now?" she asks, her voice hoarse.

"Now," I say gently, "we get the information we need from Dylan. And then the club deals with him."

She nods, her expression hardening. "Good."

As we make our way back to the hotel, I can see Caoimhe processing everything that's happened. The confrontation with Dylan seems to have drained her, but there's also a new resolve in her eyes.

Back in our room, I call Grá to check on Saoirse. Hearing the little girl's voice seems to center Caoimhe, reminding her of what she's fighting for.

"We did it, sweetheart," she says softly into the phone. "We found the bad man. And now he can't hurt anyone else."

As she talks to Saoirse, I step out onto the balcony, lighting a cigarette.

Travis joins me, his face grim. "Dylan's talking," he says quietly. "It looks like he got in too deep and couldn’t find a way out. They trapped him, faked his death, and he ended up working for them in recruiting women and children."

I nod, the betrayal of my once best friend hitting me deeply. "Do you believe him?"

"I don’t know. He gave it all up so easily. The question is, will he lead us to whoever is at the helm of the operation?"

I take a long drag, considering our next move. "We will find them and then dismantle the entire operation," I say finally. "For Caoimhe, for Saoirse, and for all the others who've suffered."

Travis claps me on the shoulder. "Damn right we will, brother."

I glance back into the room, where Caoimhe is still talking softly to Saoirse. Whatever comes next, I know we'll face it together. And for the first time in a long time, I feel hope for the future.