Page 10 of Cowboy
I take a few more steps into the living room, my heart pounding. The faint glow from a streetlight outside casts long shadows across the room. As my eyes adjust, I start to make out shapes, the outline of the couch, the coffee table, the?—
A muffled thud comes from the bedroom. I freeze, holding my breath. Then I hear it, the unmistakable sound of labored breathing.
"Travis?" I call again, louder this time, as I cautiously approach the bedroom door. "You in there?"
The door creaks open slowly, seemingly of its own accord. As it swings wide, I see a figure slumped against the far wall. It’s Michael, Travis’ right hand man. Even in the dim light, I can make out the dark stain spreading across Michael's shirt.
"Jesus Christ," I breathe, rushing to his side. "Mike, what happened?"
He coughs, a wet, rattling sound. "Ciarán," he manages to gasp. "You shouldn't... be here."
"Who did this to you?" I demand, pressing my hands against the wound in his abdomen, trying to stem the flow of blood. It's bad, really bad.
Mike shakes his head weakly. "Doesn't matter. Listen... you need to run. Take the girl and go."
"The girl?" I repeat, confused. "You mean Caoimhe? Dylan's sister?"
He nods, grimacing in pain. "They'll come for her next. To tie up... loose ends."
My blood runs cold. "Who, Mike? Who's coming after us?"
But Mike's eyes are starting to glaze over. He grabs my arm with surprising strength. "The package," he wheezes. "It's all in the package. You need to?—"
His words are cut off by a fit of coughing. Blood spatters his lips.
"Mike, stay with me," I plead, but I can see the life fading from his eyes.
With his last breath, he manages to whisper, "Run, Ciarán. Run."
And just like that, he’s gone.
I sit there for a moment, stunned, my hands still pressed against Mike's lifeless body. The reality of the situation crashes over me like a tidal wave. Dylan's dead. Mike is dead. And whoever is behind this is coming for Caoimhe next.
The door opens and I turn to see Travis enter, his gaze moving around the apartment and landing on me. “What happened?”
I shake my head, trying to comprehend everything that’s happened. “Fuck knows,” I snarl. “Christ, Travis, what the fuck is going on? Dylan’s dead, now Mike? What the fuck?”
Travis' face pales as he takes in the scene. "Jesus Christ," he mutters, running a hand through his graying hair. "This wasn't supposed to happen."
"What wasn't supposed to happen?" I demand, standing up. My hands are covered in Mike's blood, and I can feel the rage building inside me. "Dylan's dead, Travis. My best friend is gone. And now Mike... What the hell have you gotten us into?"
Travis moves to close the apartment door, checking the hallway before locking it. "It's complicated, Ciarán. The package we retrieved... it's bigger than I initially thought. More dangerous."
"No shit," I spit out. "Dangerous enough to get Dylan killed? To have someone come after Mike?"
"Listen to me," Travis says, his voice low and urgent. "We've stumbled onto something huge. Corruption at the highest levels. Politicians, billionaires, even some within law enforcement. The information in that package could bring down an entire network of criminals."
"So what now? They're trying to clean up loose ends? Is that why Dylan's dead?"
Travis nods grimly. "It's likely to do with him going back to the abandoned estate. And they'll keep coming. For you, for me... for anyone who might know something."
A cold fear grips my heart as I remember Mike's last words. "Caoimhe," I whisper. "They'll go after her next."
"Dylan's sister?" Travis asks, his brow furrowing. "Why would they?—"
"Because she's the only family Dylan had left," I explain quickly. "If they think she might know something..."
Travis curses under his breath. "We need to move fast. Get her somewhere safe."
