Page 41 of Sins and Salvation

Siobhan fights like a wild animal, clawing at my face, my wound. But I'm bigger, stronger, driven by more than her hate. We fight like we’re ten years old, wrestling for the TV remote. She screams, and scratches, and calls me names.

I pin her down, knocking the gun from her hand. It skids across the floor.

"It's over," I tell her.

"It's never over," she spits. "Not until I get what I want." Still a brat, even now.

"There's nothing here for you. Not anymore."

I look up at Jack. "Call Cormac. Tell him I have her."

Maeve rushes to my side, hands going to my bleeding shoulder. "You need a hospital."

"I need my son." I grab her arm. "Call the house. Now."

She dials with shaking hands, puts it on speaker. It rings. And rings.

"No answer," she whispers, panic rising.

"Try again."

She does. A voice answers—Fiona.

"Hello?"

"Where's my son?" Maeve demands.

"Right here. Playing video games." A pause. "Is everything okay?"

"Put him on. Now."

I hear shuffling, then Conor's voice. "Mom? Are you coming back soon?"

Relief floods through me. "Hey, buddy," I call out. "We'll be home soon."

"Declan! Did you fight the bad guys?"

Maeve and I exchange a look over Siobhan's bound form. "Yeah, kid. I did."

After we hang up, Jack secures Siobhan to the metal table where the old man used to gut fish. Her eyes burn with hatred, but she's silent now.

Maeve helps me to my feet, supporting me as pain and blood loss make the room spin.

"You came for me," I say, leaning on her.

"I'm an idiot."

"You're brave."

"I'm furious." She inspects my shoulder. "This needs stitches."

"I know a guy."

"A real doctor, not some Donovan vet. No arguments."

I don't have the strength to fight her on this. "Fine."

Jack's phone rings—Cormac. He steps outside to take the call, leaving us alone with Siobhan.

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