Page 32 of Cowboy
But as we're locked in a small, windowless room, despair threatens to overwhelm me. We're trapped, far from home, with no way to call for help. I sink to the floor, pulling Saoirse into my arms.
"Are we going to die?" she whispers, her voice trembling.
I swallow hard, fighting back tears. "No, sweetheart," I say, trying to sound more confident than I feel. "We're going to get out of here. I promise."
As Saoirse drifts into an uneasy sleep, I stare at the locked door, my mind whirling. I have to find a way out. Not just for me, but for Saoirse and all the others trapped here.
I close my eyes, exhaustion taking over me. I need sleep to recover, but I can’t. I need to be alert in case someone comes for Saoirse.
I’m awoken by the door opening. Instantly, I’m on edge. I tighten my arms around Saoirse, who’s fast asleep in my arms.
The old man enters the room, his gaze assessing as he takes us both in. “You are protective of the child,” he comments. “Why?”
“She’s a child,” I return. “Shouldn’t we all be protective of children?”
He watches me for a moment before nodding. “I agree, we should. My wife and I were never able to conceive. She’s always dreamed of being a mother. Now is her time.”
I frown. “What?” I ask, my words hoarse.
“I see that you thought she was here for a nefarious reason,” he says, not in a questioning way, but I still nod. “You are wrong. My wife wants children and we have tried every avenue to no avail. I couldn’t let her suffer any longer.”
“So you bought one?” I ask, horrified. “What about her mam?”
The old man's expression darkens. "Her mother sold her to us. She was more than happy to be rid of the child for the right price."
I feel sick at his words. How could anyone sell their own child? But I know it happens all too often in desperate situations.
"And what about me?" I ask, trying to keep my voice steady. "Why am I here?"
He smiles, but it doesn't reach his eyes. "You, my dear, are here for me. You see, my wife had the need to be a mother. I, on the other hand, have other needs. Ones she cannot fulfill."
A chill runs down my spine at his words. I tighten my hold on Saoirse, determined to protect her no matter what.
"I won't let you hurt her," I say firmly.
The old man laughs. "Hurt her? My dear, we plan to give her a life of luxury. She'll want for nothing."
"Except her freedom," I retort.
His eyes narrow. "Freedom is overrated. Here, she'll be safe, protected. And you... well, you'll learn your place soon enough."
With that, he turns and leaves, the door locking behind him with a final-sounding click.
I look down at Saoirse's sleeping face, my heart breaking for her. I have to find a way out. I don’t want to become the man’s whore.
As I sit there, holding Saoirse close, I try to formulate a plan. But exhaustion and fear cloud my thinking. I close my eyes, just for a moment, telling myself I'll only rest for a little while.
But when I open them again, sunlight is streaming through a small window high up on the wall. I must have slept for hours.
Saoirse stirs in my arms, her eyes wide with fear as she remembers where we are. "Caoimhe?" she whimpers.
"I'm here, sweetheart," I assure her, smoothing her hair. "It's going to be okay."
Just then, the door opens. A woman enters, carrying a tray of food. She's older, probably in her fifties, with a kind face that doesn't match our surroundings.
"Good morning," she says softly. "I've brought you some breakfast."
I eye her warily, not sure if we can trust her. But Saoirse's stomach growls audibly, and I realize how long it's been since we've eaten.
