Page 9 of Cowboy (Fury Vipers MC: Dublin Chapter #4)

CAOIMHE

M y heart races as I make my way through the familiar streets of Dublin.

I never thought I'd be back here, not after everything that happened.

But the information I've uncovered is too important to keep to myself.

Dylan is alive. The thought still sends shockwaves through me every time it crosses my mind.

I pull my hood lower over my face as I approach the strip club where I saw Ciarán working last week. I take a deep breath, steeling myself for what's to come. Seeing Ciarán again after all this time... I'm not sure I'm ready for it.

But I have to do this. For Dylan. For the truth.

I slip inside the club, the pulsing music immediately assaulting my ears. My eyes scan the crowded room, searching for that familiar face. And then I see him, standing near the bar, his eyes constantly roving over the crowd.

For a moment, I freeze. He looks different, harder somehow, with new tattoos peeking out from under his shirt sleeves. But it's still Ciarán. It’s still the boy who was my brother's best friend. Still the man who tried to protect me.

I blink, noticing that he’s gone from my view, and my heart starts pounding. But before I can try to find him, a hand grabs my arm and pulls me into a dark corner.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Ciarán's voice is low and urgent in my ear.

I spin to face him, drinking in the sight of him up close. "Ciarán, I?—"

"Do you have any idea how dangerous it is for you to be here?" he cuts me off, his eyes darting around the club. "If anyone recognizes you?—"

"I know," I interrupt. "But I had to see you. I have information. About Dylan."

Ciarán's eyes snap to mine, his grip on my arm tightening. "What about Dylan?"

I take a deep breath. "He's alive, Ciarán. And he's working with the trafficking ring."

The color drains from Ciarán's face. For a moment, he just stares at me, shock written all over his features. Then, without a word, he's pulling me toward the back exit of the club.

Once we're outside in the cool night air, Ciarán turns to me. "Are you sure?" he asks, his voice barely above a whisper.

I nod, pulling out a small USB drive from my pocket. "I have proof. Photos, documents... It's all here."

Ciarán takes the drive, staring at it like it might explode in his hand. "Jesus Christ," he mutters. Then he looks back at me, his eyes filled with a mixture of emotions I can't quite decipher. "Caoimhe, where have you been all this time? Do you have any idea how worried I’ve been?”

The intensity of Ciarán's gaze makes my heart skip a beat. For a moment, I'm transported back to those days before everything went wrong, to when he was just my brother's best friend.

But we're not those people anymore.

"I've been... everywhere," I say, trying to keep my voice steady. "London, Paris, Berlin. Anywhere I thought I might find answers about what happened to Dylan."

"And now you have those answers," Ciarán says, his voice tight. "But at what cost, Caoimhe? Do you have any idea how dangerous this information is?"

I lift my chin defiantly. "Of course I do. That's why I brought it to you. I trust you, Ciarán. Even after all this time."

His expression softens slightly at my words. "I never stopped looking for you," he admits quietly. "I thought... I was afraid you might be dead."

The pain in his voice makes my chest ache. "I'm sorry," I whisper. "I never meant to hurt you. I just... I had to do this on my own."

Ciarán runs a hand through his hair, a gesture so familiar it makes my throat tighten. "We need to get you somewhere safe," he says finally. "This information... It changes everything. And if Dylan is really alive and involved in this..."

He trails off, and I can see the conflict in his eyes. Dylan was his best friend, and now we have evidence that he's working with the very people responsible for so much pain and suffering.

"I know a place," Ciarán says after a moment. "Come on."

As we walk through the streets of Dublin, I can't help but steal glances at Ciarán in the flashes of the streetlights.

He's changed in the years since I saw him last. There's a hardness to him now, a tension in his shoulders that wasn't there before.

But underneath it all, I can still see traces of the boy I once knew.

"You joined a motorcycle club," I say, nodding toward the patch on his jacket.

Ciarán glances at me, surprise flickering across his face. "Yeah. The Fury Vipers. They've become... family."

I nod, understanding the unspoken words. With Dylan gone and me disappearing, Ciarán needed to find a new family. The thought makes my heart ache.

"And you?" Ciarán asks. "Have you been alone all this time?"

I hesitate, memories of the past few years flashing through my mind. The lonely nights, the constant fear. Sometimes it was too much to bear.

"Mostly," I admit. "It was safer that way."

Ciarán's jaw tightens, but he doesn't say anything. We walk in silence for a few more minutes before he stops in front of an old looking apartment building.

"We'll be safe here for now," he promises me.

As Ciarán leads me up the stairs of the old apartment building, I can't help but feel a mixture of emotions. Relief at finally sharing the burden of what I've discovered. Anxiety about what comes next. And an undercurrent of lust and need, a flutter in my stomach every time Ciarán looks at me.

We enter a small, sparsely furnished apartment. Ciarán immediately goes to check the windows and door, his movements speaking of years of caution and vigilance.

"It's a place Travis uses sometimes when we need to lay low."

I nod, suddenly feeling exhausted. The adrenaline that's been keeping me going is starting to wear off, leaving me drained.

“I have to head back to the club,” he tells me. “Shower, get changed, and sleep. Tomorrow, we’ll talk about everything,” he says as he steps closer to me.

My heart starts to race as I look up at him. “Ciarán,” I whisper, unsure of what to say.

He glances down at my lips and I swipe my tongue along the bottom one, feeling slightly anxious. He steps toward me, his hand sliding around my neck, and within seconds his lips are on mine.

Ciarán's lips are warm and insistent against mine. For a moment, I melt into the kiss, all the years of longing and loneliness fading away. His hand on my neck sends shivers down my spine.

God, it feels so good. I moan deep in the back of my throat as his tongue slides into my mouth, and the kiss changes to something carnal, something fierce. I cling to him, loving the way he kisses me.

But then reality comes crashing back when his phone starts to ring. He steps back, running a hand through his hair. “Christ,” he growls as he answers the phone, not once looking at me.

Tears sting the back of my eyes and I will myself not to let them fall. It was a kiss, that’s all. It didn’t mean anything.

“I’m sorry, I have to go,” he says once he’s finished his call.

"It's okay," I say softly.

Ciarán’s expression becomes serious again. "Get some rest. We'll talk more in the morning."

As he turns to leave, I catch his arm. "Ciarán... Thank you. For everything."

He gives me a small smile, though his eyes are still troubled. "Always, Caoimhe. I'll see you in the morning."

After he's gone, I sink onto the worn couch, my mind whirling. The kiss, the information about Dylan, the years of running and hiding, it's all too much.

But for the first time in years, I don't feel alone. Whatever comes next, I know I can face it with Ciarán by my side.

I close my eyes, finally allowing myself to relax. Tomorrow will bring new challenges, but for now, I let myself drift off to sleep, the ghost of Ciarán's kiss still lingering on my lips.

* * *

The sound of the door bursting open jolts me awake. My heart races as I bolt upright, disoriented in the unfamiliar surroundings. Groggily, I look around. A chill runs down my spine as I realize I’m surrounded. Four men enter the apartment, all looking at me with a menacing look.

I'm on my feet in an instant, adrenaline coursing like wildfire through my veins. "What do you want?" I demand, my voice sharp and edged with fear.

One of the men steps forward, a sinister smile stretching across his face. "We’ve been waiting for this day for years. Finally, we have you, Caoimhe," he announces, his words laced with chilling satisfaction.

I shake my head, taking a cautious step backward, needing to put distance between us. "Who are you?" I ask, my voice wavering slightly.

Their laughter echoes off the walls, a sound so dark and menacing that it makes the hairs on the back of my neck stand up like soldiers at attention.

"You already know that, don't you? You've been a busy girl these past few years.

I'd like to know just how much information you have gathered. But right now, we need to move."

"I'm not going anywhere," I declare, my voice surprisingly steady.

The man's smile broadens, his eyes gleaming as he steps closer, invading my personal space like a predator cornering its prey.

"That's where you're wrong, sweet Caoimhe.

You see, I have someone who wants to see you, someone who's paid me a lot of money to have you. He’s been a patient man, waiting for years; now, he can finally have his money's worth. "

He snaps his fingers, and the men behind me surge forward as one. There's nowhere to run, no escape. Their hands reach for me, rough and unyielding, and one clamps a rag over my face. The world blurs around me, fading into darkness, until I black out.