Page 31 of Cowboy
We're strapped into seats near the back of the luxurious jet. As the engines roar to life, I close my eyes, fighting back tears of despair. With each passing second, we're being taken further from any hope of rescue.
I think of Ciarán, and I wonder if he's looking for me. Does he even know I've been taken? Or does he think I've disappeared on my own again?
The plane lifts off. I pull Saoirse close, whispering words of comfort I don't believe myself. I won’t let anyone harm her. I’d rather die than allow them to hurt her.
The plane ride feels endless. I drift in and out of consciousness, my body aching from the abuse I've endured. Saoirse remains curled against me, her small body trembling with fear.
Eventually, I feel the plane begin its descent. My stomach churns with dread as I contemplate the horrors that await us at our destination.
As we land, I catch snippets of conversation between our captors.
"The buyer is waiting."
"He’s our high-profile client."
"He’ll be delighted with the special merchandise."
My blood runs cold. I pull Saoirse close and whisper in her ear, "Whatever happens, stay close to me. I won't let them hurt you."
The plane door opens, and we're roughly pulled to our feet. As we're led down the steps, I blink in the bright sunlight. We seem to be at another private airfield, it’s small, with only little planes compared to the huge jets that are at normal airports. The air is warm and humid, we must be somewhere tropical.
A sleek black SUV waits on the tarmac. A man in an expensive suit steps out, his eyes cold as he surveys us.
"These are the ones?" he asks, his accent crisp and British.
Our captor nods. "As requested. The little girl is as specified."
I feel sick as I realize what they're implying. I tighten my grip on Saoirse's hand.
The British man's gaze lingers on me. "And what happened to this one?"
"She's caused some trouble, but nothing a firm hand can't correct."
The man smiles, and it's the most terrifying thing I've ever seen. "Excellent. Load them up. The client is eager to inspect his new acquisitions."
Once again, we’re pulled and dragged toward the SUV. The man in the expensive suit opens the trunk of the car and pulls out duffel bags. I have a fairly good idea what’s inside of them, money, a payment for Saoirse and I.
Monsters. All of them. They’re disgusting bastards.
It doesn’t take long for the men to push us into the SUV. Thankfully, Saoirse has stuck to my side. I have no idea where we are, but I have a feeling it’s somewhere far, far away from Dublin.
As we drive down winding roads, I try to take in as much of our surroundings as possible. The humid air and sandy beaches lets me know we’re south of the equator. Where, exactly, I can’t be sure.
The SUV finally pulls up to a large, gated estate. My heart sinks as I realize this is likely our final destination. As we're pulled from the vehicle, I catch sight of a man waiting on the front steps of the mansion. He's older, probably in his sixties, with silver hair and an air of authority that makes my skin crawl.
"Ah, excellent," he says, his eyes roving over us hungrily. "You've done well, Mr. Thompson."
The British man from the airfield nods. "As always, sir. I trust you'll find them satisfactory."
The older man's gaze lingers on Saoirse, and I feel a surge of protective rage. I step slightly in front of her, shielding her from his view.
His eyes narrow as he notices my movement. "This one seems... spirited," he says, his tone disapproving.
"Nothing that can't be broken, sir," Mr. Thompson assures him. "She'll learn her place quickly enough."
The older man nods then waves a hand dismissively. "Take them to the holding area. I'll inspect them more thoroughly later."
As we're led away, I catch a glimpse of other women and children on the grounds, all looking terrified and broken. My mind races, trying to figure out a way to escape. I don’t want Saoirse to be like this.
