Page 38 of Cowboy
"It's okay, sweetheart," I whisper, wishing I could hold her. "Just stay close to me."
Inside the plane, they strap us into seats. As one of the men secures my seatbelt, I catch a glimpse of a tattoo on his wrist. It’s a symbol I don't recognize but one I vow to remember: an infinity symbol wrapped around a skull that has a sword through the middle.
As the plane takes off, I close my eyes, trying to fight back tears of despair. We were so close to freedom, only to end up in an even worse situation. But I can't give up hope. For Saoirse's sake, I have to stay strong. I have to find a way out of this nightmare.
The flight seems to last forever. With no windows near me, I have no idea where we're going or how long we've been in the air. Saoirse eventually falls into an uneasy sleep, her head resting against my shoulder. I stay awake, alert, trying to gather any information I can from the whispered conversations of our captors.
Finally, I feel the plane begin to descend. My stomach churns with dread as I wonder what horrors await us at our destination.
As we are herded off the plane, I blink in the bright sunlight. The air is cool and damp, a stark contrast to the tropical heat we left behind. With a jolt, I realize where we are.
Ireland. They've brought us back to Ireland.
For a moment, hope flares in my chest. We're back home. Maybe, just maybe, I’ll be able to escape now we’re here.
13
CAOIMHE
PRESENT DAY
I hold Saoirse’s trembling body against mine. We’re weak, hungry, and in need of a shower. Over the past six weeks we’ve been moved from place to place, never staying too long before we’re moved on again. There are so many guards watching over us, it’s been impossible to even attempt escape.
Being back in Ireland has been a huge relief for me. I don’t feel as though we're that far away from help. I really hope Ciarán hasn’t forgotten about me, not that I could blame him if he has. I’ve been gone almost a year, and he’s got his own life. But a part of me hopes he hasn’t.
Saoirse is terrified. She’s scared someone is going to take her from me, or worse, that she’s going to be given back to her mam. That’s not something I’ll ever allow to happen. That woman doesn’t deserve to be called her mam. She really hurt her, traumatized her to the point she wets her pants if she’s spoken about.
A loud bang on the door startles me and Saoirse jumps in my arms. "Get up," a gruff voice calls out. "It's time to move again."
My heart sinks. Another move means another chance of being separated from Saoirse. I hold her tighter as the door swings open, revealing two burly men with guns.
"Come on, move it," one of them barks, gesturing with his weapon.
I slowly stand, keeping Saoirse close. "Where are we going?" I ask, my voice hoarse from disuse.
The man sneers. "That's not your concern. Just move."
As we're herded out of the small room we've been kept in, I try to take in our surroundings. We seem to be in some kind of warehouse, with high ceilings and concrete floors. Other women and children are being gathered as well, all looking as scared and disheveled as we are.
Outside, a line of vans await. My stomach churns with dread. Where are they taking us now?
As we're pushed toward one of the vans, I hold Saoirse tightly, not willing to let her out of my sight or arms. It doesn’t take us long to be ushered into the van.
Saoirse doesn’t let go of me as the van moves. I watch out the window, trying to see if I can figure out where the hell we are.
Hours later, hope blooms in my chest as I finally start to recognize where we are. We’re in Dublin. But that hope fades as we get closer to the docks. Right back to where we started.
Fear starts to seep in as I realize we could be resold.
The van comes to a stop and the doors are yanked open. Rough hands grab at us, pulling us out into the cool night air. I cling tightly to Saoirse, determined not to let her go.
"Move it," a gruff voice orders, shoving us forward.
As we stumble along the docks, I try to take in our surroundings, looking for any opportunity to escape. But there are armed men everywhere, their eyes constantly scanning for any sign of trouble.
We're herded toward a large container. My heart sinks as I realize what this means. We're being shipped out again, probably to be sold to the highest bidder.
"Please," I plead with one of the guards. "Let us leave."
