Page 11 of Cowboy
I nod, already pulling out my phone. "I'll call her, tell her to pack a bag and be ready to leave."
As I dial Caoimhe's number, my mind races. How am I going to explain this to her? How can I possibly keep her safe when I don't even understand the full scope of what we're up against?
The phone rings once, twice... On the third ring, Caoimhe picks up.
"Ciarán?" Her voice is thick with tears, and I can hear the exhaustion in her tone.
"Caoimhe, listen to me carefully," I say, trying to keep my voice calm and steady. "I need you to pack a bag. Clothes, essentials, anything important you can't leave behind. Do it quietly. Don't let your aunt know."
There's a pause on the other end of the line. "What? Ciarán, what's going on?"
"I'll explain everything soon. I promise. But right now, I need you to trust me. Can you do that?"
Another pause, longer this time. I can almost hear the gears turning in her head, weighing her options. Finally, she speaks. "Okay. How long do I have?"
"Twenty minutes," I tell her, glancing at Travis, who nods in agreement. "I'll be there to pick you up. Remember, be quiet and don't let your aunt know you're leaving."
"Okay," Caoimhe says, her voice barely above a whisper. "I'll be ready."
I end the call and turn back to Travis. "What's our next move?"
Travis is already moving, grabbing a duffel bag from a closet and filling it with cash, weapons, and what looks like fake IDs. "We need to get her out of Dublin," he says, his voice grim. "I've got a safe house up north, near the border. We'll head there first, then we’ll figure out our next steps. She’s the one we need to keep safe."
I nod, my mind racing. "What about the package? The information?"
Travis pauses, his hand hovering over the duffel bag. "It's not safe to keep it with us. I've got a secure location where I've hidden a copy. We'll retrieve it when the time is right."
As we prepare to leave, I can't help but think of Dylan. My best friend, gone in an instant. And now I'm responsible for his sister's life. The weight of it all threatens to crush me, but I push it down. There's no time for grief or doubt now. We need to move.
Twenty minutes later, we’re parked outside Caoimhe's house, engine idling. My eyes scan the quiet street, every shadow suddenly a potential threat. The front door opens, and Caoimhe slips out, a backpack slung over her shoulder. Her eyes are red-rimmed, her face pale in the streetlight.
As she slides into the back seat, her eyes widen at the sight of Travis. "What's going on?" she asks, her voice trembling slightly.
"We'll explain on the way," I tell her, as Travis pulls away from the curb. "For now, just know that you're in danger. We're going somewhere safe."
As we drive through the dark streets of Dublin, heading north, I catch Caoimhe's eye. The fear and confusion in her gaze is palpable, and I feel a pang of guilt. She didn't ask for any of this.
"I'm sorry," I say softly. "I know this is all happening so fast, but I promise we're going to keep you safe. For Dylan."
She nods, a single tear rolling down her cheek. "Just... tell me what happened to my brother. Please."
I exchange a glance with Travis, who gives a small nod. I begin to tell Caoimhe the truth about what Dylan and I stumbled into, a world that has now claimed Dylan's life and threatened to claim hers too.
As we head further out of Dublin, I can't shake the feeling that I’m missing something, that there’s a huge fucking piece missing. The sooner I find out what it is, the better. I need to keep Caoimhe safe. I failed with Dylan. I won’t fail with her.
I glance back at Caoimhe's sleeping form as we pull up to the safe house. The weight of responsibility settles heavily on my shoulders. I failed to protect Dylan, but I won't make the same mistake with his sister.
"We're here," Travis says quietly, putting the car in park. "Let's get inside quickly. We don't know who might be watching."
I nod and step out of the car, before opening the back door. "Caoimhe," I say softly, gently shaking her shoulder. "Wake up. We're here."
Her eyes flutter open, confusion clouding her features for a moment before recognition sets in. "Where are we?" she asks, her voice thick with sleep.
"Somewhere safe," I assure her, helping her out of the car. "Come on, let's get inside."
The safe house is a small cottage in Portstewart, Derry. It has a slightly overgrown garden, giving it an air of abandonment. Perfect for laying low.
Travis leads us inside, quickly securing the door behind us. The interior is sparse but clean, with basic furnishings and heavy curtains over the windows.
