The Enforcer's Redemption (Sins of the O'Rourke Empire #2)

28. Isla

28

ISLA

M y eyes have grown accustomed to the darkness now. There is no way of telling whether it's day or night. Not a sliver of light seeps through the thick metal walls of this container. Esther, the woman with the candle, lights this place up every so often, which is a small relief, but the darkness doesn't scare me as much as it initially did.

My nose has become blind to the scents too. I know we must stink to high heaven. There is no place to pee and every so often, the rank stench of urine meets my nose, but even that quickly fades into the atmosphere of what must be the grossest smell on the planet.

When someone passes me a piece of crusty bread and some warm cheese, I pass. The texture in my fingers is enough to tell me I don’t want to eat it, but passing on it doesn't stop my stomach from churning. Bile forces its way up into my throat, and I vomit on myself. Luckily, I haven't eaten in days so there's only a small mess.

I'm leaning on the wall, pressing my face to the cold metal as I close my eyes. The only thing about me that isn't weak is my sense of hope that Declan and Ronan will come get us out of here. I know that for whatever reason, my marrying into the O'Rourke family was desperately important, and now after hearing bits and pieces of things I'm not sure I understand, I wonder if there's more to it than just my taking his name.

"Get off me," someone grumbles, and I hear someone else yelp. There's a bit of a scuffle at the far end of the container before it calms again.

Sleep starts to come, playing at the edges of my consciousness for a few languid seconds as I think morbid thoughts of death and suicide. If they don't come, I'll chew through my own arm or something, anything to stop the inevitable from happening. I won't be traded like a whore, and I will never allow my baby to be born into this world and stolen from me, sold off to the highest bidder. Or worse, they could kill my baby.

Just as I feel myself starting to doze, I think I hear the rapid pop of gunshots. My mind is foggy with sleep, hazy with a dream tempting me into its embrace. Declan, shooting his way through a crowd of men to rescue me, throwing his arms around me and kissing me passionately, my father there, cheering him on. But a voice startles me, and I jerk awake.

"What's that sound?" one of the women asks. She's sitting far away from me, but her voice reverberates down the narrow space to reach me.

"Yeah, it sounds like fireworks…" Another voice from the darkness.

"Oh, God," I mumble, covering my mouth. I sit straighter and listen, but their murmurs cover the sound. "Shh!" I hiss at them, and the container goes silent. Pressing my ear to the wall, I listen again, and there's no mistaking it. The rapid pop, pop, pop echoes again, and I shoot to my feet, slamming my palms on the wall and screaming, "Help!"

"Sit down. Shut up! No one's coming for you," someone says. I think it's that nasty bitty from the room back at that house, and I don't pay any attention to her.

"They're here! I knew they'd come. It's Declan. He's coming." My chest vibrates with energy. I continue smacking the wall, shouting at the top of my lungs. Soon, other women join me in the ruckus, chanting and pounding on the container. The noise is so loud, I can't tell if the gunshots have stopped, but the only way to let them know where we are is to make noise.

"Don't stop! Keep shouting," I coach them before sucking in a breath. I'm so winded and weak. My arm wants to give out, to droop to my side and rest. But if he hasn't stopped fighting for me, I can't give up either.

He should have. As much as I've fought him and resisted everything he offered me, Declan should have given up and let me die, let them take me. I know my father would never have stood for it. He'd have gone to the police to get help, but it would've been too little, too late. To fight men like Sebastian O’Reilly, you need to fight fire with fire, and Declan is the only man for the job.

After a few more long minutes of pounding, I have to stop. My hands are throbbing, my chest heaving for air. I lean on the metal and suck in huge gulps of putrid air into my lungs. I can't breathe and I feel dizzy, but I manage to blurt out. "Okay!"

The clatter dies down slowly, and we're left with only the sound of shuffling bodies in the darkness. For a moment in the silence, fear creeps in, telling me they've gone and we've lost our chance to be rescued. I want to cry as I again press my ear to the wall.

But the sound of men's voices is there now, and they're close.

"Declan! Ronan!" I scream, "Help!" and instantly, I get a reply.

"Isla?"

"Declan," I whimper, letting the emotion well up in my chest. "Help, please… Get me out of here." A rush of energy pushes me back up to my full height. I feel the wall, hoping to find a latch or lock.

"Stand back from the wall, Isla," he orders, and as one, the women lurch away. I stumble, but strong arms hold me up, and whoever it is, I’m grateful for the support.

Seconds later, a gun erupts again, this time with a deafening crack and the ping of a bullet hitting metal. Two shots more, and the door pops open. Light streams in, though it's still dim, but brighter than I've seen in hours. I rush to the open door and push it as Declan pulls it open, and I fall into his arms, weeping.

The tears are hot and fast, and I can't stop them. I'm shocked I even have enough hydration in my body to make tears. His arms wrap around me firmly. He places kisses on my cheeks and forehead.

"I'm here," he comforts. "Hey, shh. It's okay now. I've got you."

I cling to him for the life preserver he is, and a new sound pricks my senses—sirens in the distance.

"We need to go," Declan says softly in my ear.

I turn to look over my shoulder at the women filing out of their cage. My heart aches for each and every one of them, even the particularly nasty ones who swore we'd never be rescued.

"What about them?" My eyes search their faces, memorizing each one of them, promising to never forget them.

"The cops will be here any second and will help them, Isla, but we have to get out before we get caught." He holsters his gun at his hip, and I nod at him. My legs falter as I start moving, so he picks me up.

It slowly registers to me as my eyes adjust to the brightness of the streetlamps that the entire family is here. Men I've never met, a few of my father's farm hands, all come to save me.

"My God," I say, clinging to his neck. I nuzzle my face into the crook and press my eyes shut. "I knew you'd come."

"O'Rourke!" I hear, and it makes my blood run cold. It's Sebastian's voice.

"Mother of God," Declan grunts as he ducks behind one of the containers. He sets me down and presses his palms to my cheeks. "Stay down. Do you hear me? Let me handle this."

The others are still running, racing across the parking area toward their cars in the distance, but Declan turns around and holds up a gun.

"Show yourself, scumbag," Declan shouts, and Sebastian fires off his weapon.

I fall to the ground and cover my ears as yet another volley of gunfire erupts. Every shot makes me jump until I lose count of how many booms explode around me. When I hear tires squealing and feel Declan jerking me off the ground, I open my eyes and see a car. Thank God, I'm saved.

My salvation comes in the same form Declan prophesied. He will protect me. I just have to trust him, and now I do.

We dash to the car, and his driver zips away into the night, but all I can do is melt into Declan and cry tears of joy as he kisses my face.