Page 65 of Stolen Mafia Vows
“Long story,” she says, without offering to share the umbrella. “My boyfriend—myex-boyfriend—was supposed to have sorted it out for me, but I can’t find the email confirmation, and now that I think about it, I’m pretty sure I never got it.”
“Ouch.” I flash her what I hope is a reassuring smile.
But she is already staring at the engine, touching cables and letting out a groan when one of them burns her finger. “I haven’t had the car for long, and I know I should’ve gotten it checked out when I bought it, but well, it came from a reputable dealer, and I thought it would be more reliable than my last car.” She checks the time on a neat gold wristwatch. “And now I’m going to be late for my meeting.”
“Could someone come and pick you up? Not your ex, of course.”
She smiles at that. “My father was catching an early ferry to Scotland this morning, and my mother is a schoolteacher.”She pauses. “I could try calling my friend. Would you mind hanging around? I feel a bit exposed on my own, you know.”
I study her face, feeling like I’m stuck in limbo.
When I get back into Eoghan’s car, I’ll drive to Dublin airport and book the next flight to New York. There’ll be no looking back. I’ll close my eyes so that I don’t watch Ireland growing smaller through the airplane window, and everything will feel so … final.
“Sure. I’m in no rush.”
The woman wanders out of view around the side of the car. I hear her voice even though I can’t see her. “Siobhan, can you call me back when you get this message?”
I stare at the engine’s greasy components without seeing them, grateful for the reprieve from my thoughts. My brain is still sluggish though, and I’m struggling to find a resolution to the woman’s problem because I don’t have a damned clue what could be wrong.
“She didn’t pick up.” Her gaze flits between me and the engine, and I instinctively follow, my eyes settling on a loose cable that can’t be important. “Would you mind giving me a ride to work? Please? If it’s not too much trouble. I’ll cover your fuel costs.”
A few moments ago, I would’ve agreed to anything to delay getting on the flight that will take me away from Eoghan, but now… I don’t know why, but this woman doesn’t seem like a damsel in distress to me, and I have enough of my own shit to sort out. But I find myself saying, “Yeah, sure,” in a resigned tone that washes totally over her head.
“I’ll just grab my stuff out of the car.”
She disappears for a second time, and it occurs to me that I’m not going to be great company during the journey in Eoghan’s car to wherever she works.
But before I can reach for the metal rod supporting the hood, a heavy hand clamps around my mouth from somewhere behind me, and a chemical smell fills my nostrils, traveling directly to my confused brain cells.
My dad threatened to kidnap me. Eoghan said that he would never stop fighting for me. And the woman in the expensive silk shirt never questioned my American accent…
Then the world goes black.
Voices.
The chemical smell is making me feel nauseous.
My head is pounding as though an insect crawled inside my skull with a hammer.
Everything feels heavy. My limbs, my eyelids, my fingers.
I try to remember where I am and how I got here, but my memories are blurry at best.
“Eoghan.” I try to say his name, but my mouth isn’t cooperating.
Perhaps if I tap the pillow, he’ll understand that it’s morse code for I need help. But there’s something wrong with my fingers too, and I can’t feel my wedding ring. Then the memory of throwing the ring back at Eoghan explodes inside my head, and I think I scream, but I can’t hear any other sounds than the metal gong reverberating inside my skull.
I must drift into unconsciousness like a swimmer being dragged down and down by the ocean current. When I resurface, I’m still sluggish, but the horrible knocking inside my head has dulled to the pulsing bass of a tune being played on an internal radio.
My dad must’ve carried out his threat to abduct me and take me back to New York because I sense movement, the vibration of an engine from somewhere below me, and that strange heady atmosphere of an aircraft cabin that makes it difficult to concentrate. He must’ve been even more pissed at me than I remember.
Gullible.
The word flashes behind my eyelids like a neon sign and my pulse spikes with anger. He’s the liar. They’re all liars. But he still thinks that he can get away with this because I’m his gullible fucking baby girl who never questions what I’m told to do.
I don’t move, which isn’t hard because I feel as if a mountain is sitting on top of me, and run through my options. If I’m on our private jet, I’ll have to sit tight until we land then try to escape inside the airport. Although he’ll have security watching me. But there’s always the female restroom, right? Isn’t that how every heroine outmaneuvers their captors in the movies?
No point going home and asking Mom to help me; she’s obviously on his side along with all my brothers. Sienna is in Ireland. What about Victoria? Or has she already been brainwashed into believing that Eoghan coerced me into marrying him?
