Page 62 of Cowboy
As we make our way back to the hotel, I can see Caoimhe processing everything that's happened. The confrontation with Dylan seems to have drained her, but there's also a new resolve in her eyes.
Back in our room, I call Grá to check on Saoirse. Hearing the little girl's voice seems to center Caoimhe, reminding her of what she's fighting for.
"We did it, sweetheart," she says softly into the phone. "We found the bad man. And now he can't hurt anyone else."
As she talks to Saoirse, I step out onto the balcony, lighting a cigarette.
Travis joins me, his face grim. "Dylan's talking," he says quietly. "It looks like he got in too deep and couldn’t find a way out. They trapped him, faked his death, and he ended up working for them in recruiting women and children."
I nod, the betrayal of my once best friend hitting me deeply. "Do you believe him?"
"I don’t know. He gave it all up so easily. The question is, will he lead us to whoever is at the helm of the operation?"
I take a long drag, considering our next move. "We will find them and then dismantle the entire operation," I say finally. "For Caoimhe, for Saoirse, and for all the others who've suffered."
Travis claps me on the shoulder. "Damn right we will, brother."
I glance back into the room, where Caoimhe is still talking softly to Saoirse. Whatever comes next, I know we'll face it together. And for the first time in a long time, I feel hope for the future.
20
DYLAN
My head throbs as consciousness returns, the copper taste of blood sharp on my tongue. The zip ties dig into my wrists, binding me to a metal chair. As I blink away the fog, a warehouse comes into focus, concrete floors, high ceilings, shadows stretching across rusted machinery.
Footsteps echo. Slow. Deliberate.
I look up to see Ciarán walking toward me, that familiar crooked smile spreading across his face.
And suddenly I'm back at the abandoned estate, all those years ago, making the one decision that led me here.
I know I shouldn’t come back here.
Even as I climb over the rusted fence and my boots hit cracked concrete, everything in me is screaming to turn around. It’s stupid. It’s reckless. It’s exactly the kind of thing Travis said not to do. But I can’t let it go.
The estate looks different in the daylight. Not safer, just... clearer. The same abandoned shells of houses. The same wind cutting through broken beams and open window frames. It’s silent except for the whistle of breeze through empty rooms and the occasional creak of warped timber. This place feels dead. Like something’s rotting underneath it all.
I shove my hands into my jacket pockets, moving carefully through the ruins. I tell myself I’m checking for clues, for traces of what happened here last night, for who those men were. But deep down, I know I came here for one reason.
Because I can’t stand not knowing.
Because being in control is the only thing keeping me from falling apart.
Because I feel like I’m slipping.
I make it to the house with the fireplace, where Ciarán and I found the package. I kneel and brush my fingers over the loose brick, now just a gap in the wall. The hiding place is empty. No surprise. Still, I stare at it like it might whisper something back to me.
And that’s when I hear it.
Click.
The unmistakable sound of a safety being switched off.
I freeze.
“Thought you might come back.”
The voice is calm. Cold. Too sure of itself. It comes from behind me, somewhere near the busted front door.
