Chapter 22 Saoirse
SAOIRSE
Seeing him again after the absolute disaster he caused is more painful than I expected. He lies on the ground before me with one hand up, bracing for my next blow, but it doesn’t come. He’s already down and that’s exactly where he deserves to be.
“Saoirse—”
“Well?” I snap, barely able to contain the anger that surges through me like the hot flush of a fever. “I warned you to stay the fuck away.”
Ever since the explosive disaster at Rocky’s wedding, my life has been a shit show.
Cormac has never been this angry with me before and he can barely look at me.
All his time is spent putting out fires and countless small families under our guidance can’t understand why we fucked with the Italian/Irish deal that was so good for all of us.
My relations with Bruno quickly got exposed, which led Cormac to be even angrier that I let my feelings get in the way.
In his eyes, if I wasn’t attracted to Bruno then I never would have let such a fuck up happen.
The only person in my corner is Cian, but he’s there begrudgingly since he’s also shouldering a lot of backlash as well as all the questions about who is really behind the human trafficking.
Or if it’s even real.
I feel like I’ve been led on a wild goose chase by this fucker and on top of it all, I still haven’t found the missing women so I don’t even have the mental space to think about my own baby.
His baby.
A revelation I was so excited to reveal after Cian found out his identity. Now it’s just a cruel joke.
“You did,” Bruno gasps as he climbs to his feet. “But Saoirse, we really need to talk.”
“Don’t tell me what I need!” With my baby in mind, I lash out at Bruno the second he steps closer.
My fist collides with his jaw once more but he still tries to come closer.
A brawl breaks out between us, where Bruno takes on a more defensive stance against my blows but he doesn’t get the message and keeps trying to talk to me.
“Please, Saoirse, let me explain!”
“I don’t want to hear your bullshit explanations!
I spent weeks, fucking weeks with you chasing ghost stories and trying to help you clear your father’s name and the first chance you get, you use that to get in good with him and paint me as some psychopath!
Don’t think I haven’t heard what’s going on. ”
“You only know half the story!” He claims as he dodges one punch and deflects another with his elbow.
“Like your father only knows half the story? I know what the fuck they’re saying.
They’re saying I’m the one trafficking people and I roped in Domenico’s poor, misled son.
Seduced him with my body to keep him away from the truth.
When the only reason I was on that fucking trail was because of you!
” Louder and louder I yell as the weeks of pent-up rage explode forth.
“I was trying to help you. I was working with you. I took pity on your pathetic state and listened to you about the Triad and now look!”
We dance down the street, exchanging blows but nothing he delivers has much force behind it, and anything I try to land is defended.
I can’t throw myself at him the way I want to because of the baby.
A baby I have no idea what I’m going to do with but it’s so low down on my list of urgent priorities.
“I know, I know!” Bruno exclaims. “It all got out of hand so fast. When the treaty ended, everything was spiraling and no one was listening to me. My father got it in his head that you were trying to ruin him and after what happened to Mary, and the scandal of Noah, he wants to be proactive.”
“Proactive with fucking lies and half-truths!” I scream.
“No one cares about the drugs or the missing women or even the gun shipments going walkabout anymore. All anyone cares about is proving they’re not the ones with their filthy hands in the skin trade and suddenly everyone is blaming us.
Because of you. We were supposed to be working together! ”
My last punch hits his kidney and he stumbles backward, but I don’t follow. I’m exhausted. Between watching my family crumble from my mistake of trusting this man and spending all day trying to reassure the smaller families that Cormac is still fit to be leader, I’m done.
“Please, I’m trying to fix it. My father has me working—”
“I don’t give a shit,” I snarl, panting. “Stay the fuck away.”
“I can fix this! I’m sorry, okay? I’m really fucking sorry.
I got so caught up in my own head and my own shit with my dad that I was just talking without thinking.
I can’t explain it. It was like everything I wanted was suddenly in front of me, and I was a kid again.
I’ve been trying to correct things and I’m still digging because I know your family isn’t behind this.
I know some fucker out there will be using this discourse to further their own agenda and I’m sorry.
It’s my fault. It’s all my fucking fault and I’m trying to fix it. Please let me fix it.”
I step back, my heart racing and the flush of rage fever across my skin slowly fading. At least he’s aware how royally he fucked up. “Then fix it,” I say, spitting the words at him. “But that has nothing to do with me, you understand? Nothing.”
“No, Saoirse please. I need you.”
“Fuck off, don’t touch me!”
He reaches for me and his hand encloses around my wrist. It’s easy to slip out of his grip but he doesn’t stop coming at me.
“Saoirse please, I need you to listen to me. I know I caused this and I want to fix it but beyond that, I’m so sorry I hurt you.”
“Don’t.” I can handle talking about the lies and the rumors, and the rift forming between our families.
I can even handle talking about the wedding but I can’t cope with anything else.
The moment I start thinking about how I felt about him, and how I thought I had finally landed a good man, the pain in my heart becomes overwhelming.
“I know I hurt you because I know you cared about me. And I cared about you too, so much. It’s breaking my heart to know I’ve caused this and I can’t explain any of it if you don’t give me a chance. That’s all I ask. Please, Saoirse, please.”
He doesn’t stop talking. Bruno continues to walk toward me with that earnest, puppy look on his face and all these words about giving him one chance to talk. One chance to listen.
And part of me wants to. A part of me that I definitely shouldn’t listen to because it won’t do us any good. Revisiting this won’t bring me anything but pain.
But he doesn’t stop.
I can’t breathe.
Despite being in the middle of the street, it feels like walls are closing in around me and the air is growing too thick to breathe. My chest aches from how hard my heart pounds and a constant tremble moves through my legs.
I can’t.
I can’t listen.
I can’t do that.
Reflex has me pulling my gun. “Bruno, I won’t tell you again. I warned you what I would do.”
“You won’t do that,” he says and his confidence infuriates me. “If you meant it, you would have done it already.”
I hate that he’s right, but this needs to end. “Don’t contact me again. Don’t try to see me again. Leave me alone, Bruno. This? It’s over.”
He takes a step forward and something about how he moves causes me to jerk backward in an attempt to avoid him.
But my heel catches on the curb and as I trip, the gun goes off.