Page 165 of Three Irish Kings
My sore muscles relax under the spray, and all the blood in my nose comes out in a rush when my sinuses open up. It’s gross, but it makes me feel a hundred times better.
When I’m feeling almost like myself again, I turn off the water and step out of the shower, trying to lay a hand on my still flat but heavily bruised belly.
“We’re going to get out of this, sweet pea. Ma’s got you.”
“Who are you talking to? Are you going to have a baby?” The high-pitched voice coming through the crack in the bathroom door makes me nearly jump out of my skin.
I grab the closest towel and clutch it close to me, covering myself.
“You scared me to death! Who are you?”
“My name is Irene. What’s yours?” The disembodied voice sounds cheerful and bright and... young.
I throw on the clothes that were clearly left for me—a simple pair of sweats and a large black t-shirt that hangs down almost across my ass. The letter opener slides into my back pocket, and I keep a hand on it as I slowly open the door.
Standing right there, with no sense of personal space, is a teenage girl fiddling with her septum piercing.
“Hi!” She waves, a wide smile on her face. “It’s so nice to have another girl in the house. Da and his men are soboring.”
She’s Cormac’s daughter? I didn’t even know she had one. The guys never mentioned her.
This can be good for me.
Sweeping my wet bangs back from my face, I smile at the girl. “It's nice to meet you, Irene. I’m… Maggie.”
She tilts her head. “Da told me you were visiting for a while."
“Your Da is wrong."
She sighs. “It has been known to happen, yes.”
There’s not the same dead look in her green eyes, even though she's the spitting image of her father. Can she be my ticket out of here?
“How old are you?"
“I’ll be sixteen in a few days. Da is having a party for me.”
“Happy birthday.”
She smiles again, and it really lights up her face. She plops down on my bed as if we are old friends instead of strangers. “Thank you. Sweet sixteen is a big deal, right?”
Good. I need her to like me. I need her to trust me.
I nod. “My mom threw me a big party when I turned sixteen at a roller rink. Brought all my friends.”
Irene pouts. “Ugh, that would be so fun! Da keeps me in the house all the time. He never lets me leave unless I’m with Reese.” She wrinkles her nose. “I don’t like Reese.”
“Me either,” I say dryly, pointing to my black eye.
She winces. “Sorry about that. Reese has never hit me, but I’ve seen him hit alotof people.”
“It’s not your fault.” As I say the words, I realize the truth in them. And I can’t help but feel sorry for her.
From what it sounds like, Cormac has been hiding her from the world, desensitizing her to violence.
She’s just a kid.
I walk over and sit next to her, only slightly wary.
