Page 64 of Stolen Mafia Vows
I don’t see him fighting now.
I wonder if he’s still standing by the roadside waiting for me to go back and tell him I changed my mind, or if he is on his way home, the ring in his pocket, chalking it up to experience.
We’re married though, my heart screams at me. At least, I assume the ceremony was legally binding. What happens now? How can I get married and divorced at the age of twenty-one? Must be some kind of record.How long were you married for? Oh, about forty hours. I think. I was counting the lies instead of the time.
More tears fill my eyes. I sit back in the seat still gripping the steering wheel.
I don’t want to get divorced. No, that isn’t the real reason why my head is so filled with tears. I don’t want to divorce Eoghan. I’m in love with him. I’m so in love with him, I left the best part of me on the roadside when I threw his gran’s ring at him, but the stark truth is, I don’t even know him. Not really.
All I know is how he makes me feel. Special. Loved. Desirable.
How hemademe feel, my brain says quietly. Past tense. Because it was just a game to him, an open door to my family’s empire.
I glimpse my purse on the passenger seat. I grabbed my ID and passport before I left Eoghan’s bedroom as if I knew all along that none of it was real.
The bastard knew exactly what he was doing. He had just the right balance of sex-god and vulnerability to suck me in, and I fell for it like a sky diver with no parachute.
“Never again.”
I wipe my eyes with the back of my hand, put the car into gear, and pull away, eying up the woodland on either side of the road for more animals with a death wish.
What have I learned from this episode?
“The only person I can trust is me.”
With that in mind, I know my next move. I’m going back to New York. Not home, it doesn’t feel like home anymore; I’m not sure that anywhere will, without Eoghan. But there are things I need to do before I can move on to phase two.
I need to ask Caleb what happened to Ruairi Byrne.
I need to gain access to my trust fund.
Then, I’m going to use my money to build an animal sanctuary somewhere in Africa or Asia. Wherever it’s most needed. I’ve already proved to myself that I can plant roots outside of New York City. It will hurt for a while, but at least it will keep me busy.
Lesson number two: animals love unconditionally.
I drive around aimlessly for a while, afraid to switch on my mobile phone in case my dad or Eoghan have figured out a way to track it, but it soon becomes apparent that I’m hopelessly lost. Who knew there were so many fields and cows in Ireland?
Every direction is starting to blur into one when I approach a car pulled over on the side of the road with the hood raised. I slow down and cruise past, realizing that the car is empty, and the driver standing beneath a pink floral umbrella is a young woman.
I stop the car and switch on the hazard lights. A quick glance in the rearview reveals puffy eyes and cracked lips, but there isn’t much I can do about that. The woman will probably be too stressed to notice anyway if her car has broken down.
“Hey, can I help?” I say as I approach the woman from behind.
She jumps and turns around, her free hand already greasy. She seems to relax a little though when she realizes that we look about the same age. Or perhaps I resemble a car mechanic she knows.
“Do you know anything about cars?” Her accent isn’t as gentle as Eoghan’s, and I feel the sharp raw pang of loss deep inside.
“Not much.” I scrunch up my face, acutely conscious of my bedraggled state.
In fact, if I was being honest, which I guess I should be after calling out everyone else’s lies, my knowledge of car engines is zero. But I can sense the anxiety oozing from her pores, and I don’t want to add to it.
“I’ll take a look though. Maybe we can figure it out together.”
I leanover the engine. I can still feel the heat emanating from the important bits, so she must not have been waiting around for long. Everything looks connected, but then again, I have no clue what I’m looking at; the only engine part I could name is the battery, and I’m sure I’d know if that was floating around like a fish with no sense of direction.
“Do you have breakdown insurance?”
She inhales sharply and stares at the road behind us. She must be on her way to work because she’s wearing smart white pants and a sapphire-blue silk shirt that probably came with a hefty price tag, and her long blonde hair is immaculately straightened, tumbling perfectly around her face. If she works in Dublin, I must be on the right route, even if we are the only people around currently.
