Chapter 34 Saoirse
SAOIRSE
Bruno leaves. And doesn’t come back.
The silence is deafening.
The heat inside me doesn’t fade.
And now there are two dead bodies soaking the wooden floor with their blood. What do I do? What would the old me do?
The old me would leave without hesitation, would kill without discrimination and get Cian and myself out of here. But things are different now. I’m weaker. Tired. I can’t fight like I used to with a baby to protect and Cian was not in any kind of good condition the last time I saw him.
Should I wait here for Bruno? Will he even come back?
My lips still tingle with the pressure of his kiss and the lingering feelings I thought were long buried came exploding back.
The way his entire face changed when I told him about the baby was the kind of look I hoped to see on his face when I told him I was pregnant back at Rocky’s wedding.
Only this time, it’s tainted by worry and fear.
Another rush of heat crashes over me and I sink back into my seat, holding the gun in my lap as my mind sluggishly races.
Bruno has a plan but I can’t rely on it because there’s no guarantee he’ll ever come back.
Being up here in his room is the closest I’ve been to freedom in weeks. I can’t waste it.
If only I didn’t feel like I was boiling alive from the inside.
The heat builds behind my eyes and within a few seconds, I’m sweating buckets and shrugging off the sweatshirt Bruno gave me.
That does nothing to cool me down though.
Standing, I pace around the table as the warmth builds south like a hot band squeezing around my stomach, and a strong pull of nausea rushes up my throat.
“Fuck,” I gasp, rushing to the sink and fully expecting Bruno’s nice dinner to spurt out of me. I gag once, twice… then nothing. Just the overwhelming sensation of sickness. Fuck.
I really am ill.
I can’t stay here.
“Sorry, Bruno,” I murmur. “I hope you understand.”
Stepping over the two dead bodies, I head for the door. He’d told me to lock it after him and I had, despite knowing that it would likely do nothing to stop anyone who came here with purpose. Unlocking the door, the dark abyss of the spiral stairs greets me.
Do I make a run for it?
No, I can’t. Not without Cian.
I have to go down as deep as I can and hope I remember the spiral way to where he was being kept the last time. Assuming they haven’t moved him.
With the handgun clutched in one hand, I descend the stairs while repeatedly swallowing to combat the rush of nausea and burning heat coursing through my abdomen.
Down and down I step until I’ve lost count of how many stairs I’ve passed or what floor I could even be on. I have no choice but to keep going.
The spiral stone staircase eventually gives way to a corridor and the door at the far end brings me deeper into dark, damp corridors with a familiar mildew scent.
As I creep along one corridor, a guard strolls nonchalantly toward me with his attention down on the cigarette he’s rolling between two fingers.
Whistling a soft tune, he doesn’t spot me until I click the safety back on my gun and the sound echoes in the compact space.
He lifts his head and promptly collapses to the ground as I shoot him twice in the chest. His body crumples against the wall and blood pools around him slowly.
Then another wave of pain courses through my body but this time the burning heat shoots right between my legs and down the back of my thighs.
“Ah!” Stumbling against the wall for support, another wave of hot sweat breaks out across my back, and my chest tightens as a growing realization painfully dawns on me.
These… these can’t be contractions, can they? There’s no way. It’s too early. It’s far, far too early!
Shit. Maybe I should have run. I should have just run and brought help for Cian instead of limping down here myself.
It’s too late to turn back though. Giving my pain a name results in more frequent lancings of agony through my abdomen and down my thighs.
It’s as if recognizing what’s happening has given my body to go full send with the pain and I’m struggling.
Thankfully, the corridor grows more familiar and soon the winding hallway gives way to several doors that resemble the one I saw Cian behind. I check each one through the glass and see several women in various states of unconsciousness, and multiple men, but none of them are Cian.
Leaving the strangers behind hurts but I can’t save everyone.
By the time I reach the last cell, tears are pouring freely down my cheeks and I’m drenched in sweat. My clothes cling to me like a second skin and I’m burning so hot it’s a wonder the door handle doesn’t sizzle the moment I touch it.
Cian! Through the last door, I see him. My twin. He’s seemingly unconscious on a thin mattress with several dirty bandages covering his mostly naked body. The one around his throat looks the cleanest and at least his butchered leg appears to have received some kind of treatment.
“Cian!” Slamming my hand on the door, I knock repeatedly. “Cian! Cian, wake up! Please wake up!”
No response.
“Shit, shit!” I glance quickly around me, but just as I realize there’s no sign of any keys, the hallway door next to me swings open and a guard strolls through.
We both react at the same time. He flinches in shock at seeing me while I lift my gun and shoot him in the leg.
He collapses with a scream, then lunges at me, but I’m quick enough to stumble out of his reach.
“How do I open the cell?”
“Fucking bitch—”
“Tell me how to open it!”
“Cunt, I’m going to kill you—argh!”
The second bullet goes through his forearm as he reaches for me and his screams of pain are the best thing I’ve ever heard. He rolls onto his side, cradling his arm and whimpering up at me through tears.
“I won’t ask again.” I stand over him, panting and sweating while cradling my abdomen and my gun pointed right at his face. “How!”
“With—ahh, with a key!”
“What key?”
“My pocket—right pocket!”
As soon as I have my answer, I shoot him dead and the hallway falls silent once more.
Dropping down to my knees, the scent of blood and gore rising from his body is enough to make me gag while I scramble through his pockets in search of the key.
My fingers clasp the cold iron just as another contraction rips through me and this one is so painful that I can’t keep quiet.
I yell loudly as tears pour down my cheeks, mingling with the sweat. It feels like I’m being boiled from the inside out while simultaneously being ripped in half at my middle.
“Shit!” Once the initial wave passes I use the wall to climb back onto unsteady legs. “Fucking… shit.” Back at Cian’s door, it’s a battle to get the key into the lock but finally, it slides in and a satisfying click echoes in the hall. Wrenching the door open, I stumble inside.
“Cian!”
“S–Saoirse?” Cian, looking groggy as all hell, slowly pushes up on one badly bruised arm. “Am I… dead?”
“No!” I gasp, crashing back to my knees and barely registering the pain of the stone floor.
Throwing my arms around Cian, I hug him tightly as tears pour and a mix of grief and relief cracks through my chest. “Oh, my God,” I sob desperately.
“Oh, my God, I never thought I’d see you again!
Oh, fuck!” Kissing his cheek, I hug him as tightly as I can and tears overwhelm me when Cian’s trembling arm wraps around me.
“’M’okay,” he croaks. “What… what’s going on?”
“No time,” I gasp, painfully wrenching myself backward. “There’s no time to explain. Can you walk?”
Despite the fogginess in his eyes, he nods awkwardly. “Sort— sort of. Slowly.”
“Come on—ahh!”
“Saoirse! What’s wrong?”
As I double over at another contraction, Cian slowly pushes himself up onto his good knee and his hands tighten at my shoulders.
“Long story,” I gasp, crouching on the ground and panting. “Baby’s coming. We gotta go. There’s no time!”
“Holy shit…”
Cian’s visibly under the influence of some kind of drug so getting him onto his feet and keeping him there is more challenging than I have the energy for, but somehow I manage.
Tucked under his arm, I support him the best as I can as we both limp out of his cell and into the corridor. I want to hug him and check him over, make sure he’s really okay and that nothing I’m doing will make him any worse but there’s no time. We have to keep moving.
Underneath the panic and the pain though, there’s overwhelming relief at being reunited with him. It’s enough to bring me to tears if I wasn’t already sobbing about everything else.
“Come on, we’ve got a shit ton of stairs to climb. Stay with me, Cian. Stay with me!”
He does. Every step, he’s there. Even when his consciousness starts to fade, Cian is thankfully able to pull himself out of each one until we reach the top of the fourth set of stairs. It’s there he collapses, panting so harshly that I’m terrified he’s not even getting any air.
“S—Saoirse!” He gasps, clutching at my arm and gazing at me through heavily-lidded eyes. “You— you gotta leave me.”
“No!” I clutch at his shoulders and then his cheeks. “No, I can’t!”
“You have to,” he gasps and every single word sounds like it’s taking him great effort. “Go. Save you— yourself. Get help. I can’t— I can’t—”
“No! Cian! No, come back!” His head sags in my hands as his whole body slumps. “No! Don’t leave me, I need you! Come back! Cian, come back! Please. Please!”
There’s no response.
“Fuck!” I sob brokenly as pain cuts me in half once again and exhaustion has me trembling so badly that I can barely keep upright. “Fuck. Fuck!”
I have no choice. Pressing a trembling kiss to Cian’s forehead, I stand slowly.
“I’ll come back for you,” I say tightly. “I swear. I’ll come back.”
Climbing the stairs alone is ten times harder this time. Weakness pulls at my limbs like tentacles drying to drag me back down into a dark abyss and by the time I reach the door to the outside, I’m panting desperately and my vision is fading in and out.
The first gust of cold night air as I shove open the door is like a slap in the face. Whether it’s adrenaline or the realization that freedom is so close, I have no idea but renewed energy suddenly floods through me and my next step is stronger. And the one after that. And the next.
I hurry down the steps and stumble through a puddle in the driveway but just as I make it a few steps toward the winding road that will take me away from here, a car suddenly pulls into the parking lot and screeches to a stop.
“B-Bruno?” I whisper.
Not Bruno. The door opens and none other than Domenico Del Prete glides out of the car. My racing heart plummets down into my aching gut and I fall to my knees.
But he’s not alone.
As he glides out of the car, he has his fist wrapped firmly around the arm of someone and it’s not until he throws her to the ground in front of the vehicle that I recognize her.
“Sarah?”
“Fucking hell, Saoirse!” She scrambles toward me but doesn’t make it far as blood pours from a deep wound on her shoulder. She slumps toward me and I use the last of my energy to reach her.
“What a fucking pain you turned out to me,” Domenico snarls, rolling up as sleeves as he lazily approaches.
“Why?” I scream, doing what I can to shield Sarah with my body. “Why are you doing this? What the fuck do you even want?”