Page 66 of The Celtic Resolution
I need a show.
“Get off, get off!” She screams louder and louder with fat tears welling in her eyes until I firmly place my hand over her mouth and pin her down.
“Please,” I hiss, my voice barely above a whisper. “I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry but please listen to me. You have no idea how closely this room is being watched. I’m not going to hurt you and I’m not going to touch you. Beyond uh… this.”
Her muffled cursing fades but her large, tear-filled eyes stare up at me and I feel like a rotten hyena pinning a helpless bunny rabbit. And Saoirse has never been helpless.
“Just listen. Please. I know you have no reason to trust me, I know you hate me and I deserve it. I fucked up. I have no excuse. I believed my father because I was too eager to be accepted by him and I didn’t realize how terrible that was until it was too late. Honestly, I thought I could bridge the gap and have us all working together. But he used me and I fell for it and you’re suffering. I’m sorry, Saoirse.”
She blinks and her tears soak into my fingers.
“I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry. I’ll say it until I’m blue in the face but I’m trying to fix things. I’m trying. I know I bought you but everyone else there represented overseas investors. If anyone else bought you, you would have been placed on a ship and I would have lost you forever. You’d just be gone and I—” My voice cracks as my words tumble over one another in my desperation to explain while I have her in a position to listen.
She shifts underneath me and I move with her, doing what I can to make it look like I’m playing with her for the camera.
“I can feel how much you hate me but you need to use that, okay? We need to work together to get you out of here because I’m being watched like a hawk. My father doesn’t trust me, so he’s forcing me to get my hands dirty while giving me barely any breathing room, and he has Mary, okay? My sister. He sent her away somewhere and I have no fucking clue where and the second I step out of line? She’ll be dead. I can’t—” I close my eyes and my head dips momentarily as an overwhelming surge of upset overtakes me.
“I can’t loseherand I can’t lose you so I’m trying everything I can think of to keep you both alive while having no control over any of it.” Tears sting behind my eyes and I blink hurriedly to clear them. When I look back at Saoirse, her expression has changed. The anger isn’t the most prominent emotion in her eyes and her constant straining against my hand has faded.
“I’m not trying to make you feel sorry for me. This is my mess. But I’m trying to save you both soplease, work with me. Please.”
I remove my hand and expect Saoirse to either resume screaming or saying something cruel, but she does neither. She glares at me, then rolls her head to the side and completely checks out.
Shit.
I’d been hoping to reach her in some way but clearly I’m on my own. Despite telling myself not to hold expectations over Saoirse, I thought she would have fire to get back to her family and jump at the chance. Doesn’t she miss her brothers? Her twin? Has she really been broken that much?
The following days follow much of the same routine. I bring her food and water, and some days it’s touched and other days it isn’t. Sometimes she’s deathly quiet and other times she’s burning bright like a white-hot flame, yelling obscenities andcursing me out while swearing to make sure my death is the last thing she ever does.
I’m hopeful on those days, desperate for something to finally get through to her but any time I think there’s progress, she reverts back to her silent self. Google tells me it’s a trauma response and I have to be patient and kind with her, but I’m running out of time.
The longer we wait, the more this organization can churn people overseas without consequence. I spend one Thursday night attempting to get in touch with Rocky, but after swapping SIM cards around with a guard, my call didn’t even connect. The guard I stole from is never seen again, confirming my suspicion that every single phone call is being traced. Even the door dash ones.
After five days, I try again with Saoirse and this time, there is fire in her when I pin her to the bed for a display for the cameras.
“Get off me,” she spits, thrashing about and hitting me as hard as she can. She’s weaker with the lack of food but she can still pack a solid punch.
“Saoirse, if you would just talk to me then I wouldn’t have to do this.”
“Talk to you?” Hatred burns in her eyes. “I don’tneedto do anything to make your life easier.”
“It’s for both our sakes,” I snap as frustration swells. “Do you honestly think I enjoy this? Do you think I enjoy knowing that one wrong move and my sister will end up dead because my father is a psychopath? Or that the woman I love will suffer a worse fate? You think you’re the only one imprisoned here?”
“And whose fault is that?” she yells, tossing her head from side to side. Then her teeth sink hard into the soft flesh of my forearm, and she clings on like a dog unwilling to release a bone.
She bites deeper and deeper until I’m able to wrench myself free with a cry. Blood pours down her chin and Saoirse glares at me with wide, crazed eyes.
“My twin is dead because of you so I don’t give ashitabout you sister, understand? I will do everything I can to make you suffer until it kills me, so buckle up you asshole. This isyourhell!”
Wait— Cian is dead?
No… there’s no way. What the hell happened?
29
SAOIRSE
Bruno doesn’t come back after I bite him. Maybe the guilt of knowing he caused Cian’s death is enough to finally keep him away from me, but part of me wishes he kept pushing. I wanted that argument to turn into a fight, to keep pushing his buttons until he exploded and we ended things but that didn’t happen.
