Page 67 of The Celtic Resolution
Unlikely, in all honesty. Bruno’s never been an anger-triggered, violent man in the time I’ve known him.
In the silence after our fight, I return to the safety of the bed and think. Is his sister really in danger? I wouldn’t put it past Domenico, and Bruno seemed genuinely distressed about her situation.
Can I hold it against him? If the tables were turned, I would do anything to save my siblings without hesitation. Can I fault Bruno for doing the same?
Logically, no. But realistically, the grief of Cian’s death is crushing me. With nothing to distract me, it’s all I think about. It replays in my head constantly, floods my dreams with his blood and when I’m not dreaming or thinking about it, I swear I can hear his dying gurgles over and over. I’m being tortured by myown thoughts and learning of Bruno’s suffering does nothing to alleviate that.
I hoped hearing him in pain would soothe me but it doesn’t.
Should I be grateful he bought me to stop me from being sent overseas? Should I pity him for simply trying to save his sister? It’s infuriating how I suddenly understand his actions but it does nothing to help me. Or soothe my pain.
So I sleep.
I sleep for what feels like forever until I’m woken by the soft clatter of a tray on the floor. Rolling over, Bruno’s on his haunches changing over my food trays with one arm wrapped in a bandage where I bit him. A pang of guilt warms my aching stomach but it fades when Bruno looks up and catches my eye.
“Eat,” he says quietly. “And you should know something. Cian is alive.”
Coldness grips me like a sudden ice wind has just rushed through my cell. My heart stops in my chest and warmth burns behind my eyes. “Youlie.”
“No,” he says gently. “He’s alive. He’s captive but he’s alive. They gave him treatment because he’s too valuable to kill and the wound to his throat wasn’t deep, scary but not as life-threatening as it looked. I promise you, Saoirse. He’s alive.”
“Prove it,” I bark hoarsely. “Don’t you dare stand there and say his name if you can’tproveit.”
“I will,” is all he says. Then he turns and leaves me with that suffocating bombshell.
Alive? Cian is alive?
No, this has to be some kind of trick. I saw the Triad cut his throat, saw all that blood pour out of him like he was a water balloon. I’ve been grieving him every day I’ve been here, tearing myself apart with guilt. He can’t be alive. There’s no way he’s alive. No way at all.
And yet… Bruno’s words give life to a flicker of hope buried deep inside my charred soul.
What if?
What if he is and Bruno is telling the truth? Just like he is about his sister and saving me from some overseas slaver?
Could it be?
I shouldn’t hope. It’s dangerous and will bring me more pain but I just can’t help myself. If Cian is alive then all hope is not lost. Maybe there’s still a chance I can get out of here.
Maybe Bruno really is saving me.
That’s the first night I eat, but I quickly throw it back up after neglecting my food for so long. Bruno doesn’t chastise me though. He helps me clean up and brings a much weaker soup for me to eat along with painkillers and bottled water. That meal stays down.
For the next three days he does as promised. He doesn’t touch me, he doesn’t speak and all he does is bring me food that I eat slowly. Occasionally he lingers close to me as if putting on a show for the cameras but that’s all he does.
After the second day, my sleep is much more restful and by the fourth day I’m almost looking forward to his visit. Each day he brings the chance of proof and I’m so desperate for something good that I’m close to begging for it.
Bruno arrives like clockwork but instead of a tray of food, he brings handcuffs and a leash.
“You’re not serious,” I say, unable to believe what I’m seeing.
“Please,” Bruno murmurs. “Put them on. Trust me.”
A few days ago I would have tried to tear his throat out at the suggestion but now I’m willing to try anything. I demanded proof and now, for the first time since I got here, he’s taking me out of my cell.
There has to be a connection.
So I allow him to cuff me. Bruno’s touch is warm against my wrists and drags me back to a much more intimate time, but I shake that away quickly. Whatever I feel for this man is currently overruled by anger and betrayal.
