Chapter 36 Saoirse
SAOIRSE
“Bruno!”
Rocky lands on the ground next to me as he tries to rouse Sarah from her unconscious state. His cry of panic sends pain lancing through my heart just as Bruno’s whimpers of pain reach my ears. He goes down like a rock and lies there unmoving as Domenico turns in what feels like slow motion.
No.
No more.
This can’t go on.
Grabbing the back of Rocky’s jacket, I haul him forward and snatch his handgun from his back holster, then I spin on the spot and face Domenico. Our eyes meet and his widen a fraction as I raise my weapon. He tries to do the same but he’s not fast enough. Not this time.
I fire once. Then twice.
Each bullet thuds into Domenico and sends him stumbling back step by step. Another shot and another step. He roars in anger and tries to lift his gun again, but a bullet lodges in his shoulder and renders his arm useless.
Once I start firing, I don’t stop. I can’t.
Something takes over me and I fire every single bullet left in Rocky’s gun into Domenico.
He goes down after the sixth hits him and I drag myself up onto unsteady legs, yet my arm remains firm and unmoving as I keep the gun trained on Domenico. And I keep firing.
Shot after shot after shot. They soon turn into clicks as the gun empties and I have nothing left to harm Domenico with. Not that it matters. He’s spread across the tarmac with blood pooling around him, one arm flung wide to the side and his eyes open but unseeing.
Dead.
It’s the least he deserves. I keep pulling the trigger until a sharp, lancing pain stabs through my gut once more and I double over with a cry.
With the pain comes the realization that Bruno is down, so I abandon Rocky’s gun and throw myself to where Bruno lies on the ground, choking on all the blood pouring out of his mouth.
“Oh, my God, Bruno!” I slam my hands over the two weeping bullet holes in his chest, but blood immediately floods through the gaps in my fingers and stains my skin with its sticky warmth. “Hold on, oh, fuck. Please hold on! You’re gonna be okay!”
“S–Saoirse—”
“No, don’t you dare say anything!” Tears flood my eyes and pour down my cheeks without warning. My pounding heart races, and even the agony of my contractions takes a back seat to the sheer panic that Bruno is fading away from me right under my hands.
“I–I’m sorry,” he chokes, trying to lift his head from the ground. He coughs and another surge of blood trickles out the corner of his mouth. “I–I’m so sorry.”
“No, don’t say that. Don’t. Don’t do it!” He’s saying goodbye and he can’t. I’m not finished with him yet. He doesn’t get to bow out on me like this.
“This… Saoirse.” His cool, trembling hand grasps one of my wrists as I try to put my entire body weight behind stemming the flow of blood. “This ‘s’all my fault. All my—I did this. I deserve this—”
“No!” I sob, pushing down on him. “I get to decide what you deserve! Don’t you dare try and die on me, understand? You can’t leave me, not now! Not after everything. You can’t leave!”
“I’m so sorry I hurt you,” he croaks weakly. “S–So sorry… but know th–that I love you. N–Never stopped.”
“No, shut up!” I yell, then I turn and look over my shoulder. “Rocky!”
Rocky glances up from Sarah, who’s awake and groggy in his arms, and the relief in his eyes immediately turns to concern. I turn back to Bruno and his eyes flutter.
“Don’t you dare leave me, Bruno. I love you too, okay? And I hate you at the same time and it’s complicated, but I need you to stay here with me and work it out. Please stay with me. Please!”
“Live,” he croaks, his voice paper thin. “Have a g–good life. You and y–your baby.”
“Our baby,” I sob as his eyes close for the last time. “It’s our baby, Bruno. No! No, no, come back! Come back! Don’t leave me! Bruno, come back! No!”
My world drowns in tears as lights and sounds suddenly explode all around me. Footsteps pound, something loud drums overhead, and a cacophony of voices clash together behind me, but none of it matters.
Not without Bruno.
My rescue passes in a blur. One minute, I’m screaming and sobbing over Bruno’s motionless body, the next, I’m being dragged away by voices too blurred to recognize, and nothing I do brings me back to Bruno.
A sea of darkness gives way to a sea of light and I’m wrestling against doctors and nurses all telling me to calm down, that they’re here to help me and I’m safe.
I don’t feel safe.
And then my contractions reach my peak and it feels like my body is being ripped in two.
It matches the agony of my broken heart as Bruno’s pale, blood-stained face doesn’t leave my thoughts even as my adrenaline-drained, exhausted body somehow pushes my baby boy into the world.
I see him through tears only for a second before he’s rushed away and Cormac’s face appears.
He grips my hand and his mouth moves, but I can’t work out when the hell he even got here. I try to ask him, but it’s finally too much. I have nothing left to give and I sink into a turbulent darkness.
I wake several days later with a pounding, dull headache and throbbing limbs as if I just ran ten marathons back to back.
It takes me a few long, silent minutes to gather myself and process the white ceiling above me, the slatted blinds on the window blocking out the evening sun, and the surrounding machines detailing every aspect of my body and its functions.
I blink slowly. My eyelids feel impossibly heavy, and while the urge to sink back into sleep is strong, I can’t because I’m missing something.
My baby. My twin. My lover.
Pain lances through my heart and I gasp, which makes the head of the man next to me jolt up lightning fast.
“Saoirse?” Cormac half rises out of his seat and hovers over me, his brow twisted in concern. “You’re awake, thank God. Are you okay? Are you in pain? I should go get the doctor—”
“No.” My rough voice sounds alien to my ears as I dart out a hand and grasp his wrist. “D–Don’t leave me… please.”
His face crumples slightly like he’s fighting back tears and he nods repeatedly. “I’m here. I’m right here.”
I nod once and close my eyes, trying to orient myself within my own body and work out what I feel. Other than the headache, a burning throat, and distantly aching limbs, I’m numb. And everything is slowly coming back to me.
Opening my eyes, tears fill them once more and I no longer have the energy to fight them.
“Look at you,” Cormac murmurs. “To think I went years without seeing you cry.”
“I—” I have so much to ask but the words don’t come. Each time I try, a sob rises in my chest and drowns out my speech.
Cormac takes my hand between both of his and lifts it to his mouth, kissing my knuckles. “I can imagine what you’re trying to ask me so instead of telling you to take your time, I’m just going to tell you what I know and you can decide whether I miss anything, okay?”
I nod quickly and blink furiously through the tears.
“You had a baby boy, Saoirse. He’s in the NICU because he’s premature, but he’s doing great. He’s as strong as his mother.”
Oh, thank God.
As undecided as I was over that child, and how often I feared he would be born directly into captivity, knowing he’s alive fills me with so much relief that I can barely breathe. I have a child. A baby boy. He’s mine and he’s alive.
I can’t hold back the sobbing after that and Cormac’s grip tightens on my hand.
“We found Cian in the lighthouse. He’s recovering. He had to have quite a few surgeries on his leg and his elbow because of what they did to him. He’s lost a lot of blood, malnourished and weak, but he’s recovering. He’s a fighter. He’s okay, Saoirse. He’s going to make it just like you.”
Cian. Oh, God.
I thought the guilt of leaving him in that stairwell was going to kill me, but they have him and he’s alive.
Thank fucking God.
“Bruno…” Cormac pauses and it feels like my heart is about to give out. “He scraped by. Just. Had a bunch of surgeries to save his life and he hasn’t woken up yet, but the doctors are optimistic.”
It’s the last straw. I clutch at Cormac, openly sobbing out all my pain and exhaustion and relief that somehow, everyone I care about is okay. I fell into darkness thinking I’d lost and failed everyone I loved, but somehow, they made it.
Somehow, I made it.
“I–I’m sorry,” I gasp through pouring tears and a runny nose. “I f–fucked up. I ruined e–everything.”
“Saoirse, don’t you dare.” Cormac moves from his chair to my bedside and pulls me into his burly arms. “Don’t you fucking dare think like that. You ruined nothing, you hear me? Not a damn thing.”
“B–But the treaty,” I sob. “I fucked up, I trusted the wrong people. Everything fell apart and I couldn’t do anything about it and I—”
“You survived!” Cormac’s grip tightens considerably.
“You survived something horrific and that’s all that matters.
And thanks to you, we’re one step closer to dismantling the entire surviving black market that still deals in fucking slavery.
” He leans back and his palm cups my tear-soaked cheek, tilting my head up until our eyes meet.
“I failed you. I should have seen this coming. I should have had your back instead of reacting in anger. I failed you and Cian and I will never forgive myself. But this is not on you, Saoirse. It’s not. ”
His words hit hard, but they’re weak against the persuasion of my own defeated thoughts.
“So many people,” I sob. “So many people hurt and dead. And sold! Oh, my God, I can’t even—” My sobs turn silent as all the pent up pain of being captive, of losing Cian and finding him again only to abandon him, of losing Bruno and—
I jerk upward suddenly and clutch at Cormac’s arm. “Mary! Bruno’s sister, oh, my God, she was being held and he was—”
“It’s okay! She’s safe. She’s safe. It’s okay.”
“You’re sure?”
“Yes.” Cormac smiles slightly. “Sarah sent me an address and a somewhat cryptic text before Domenico shot her. With that and Rocky’s men calling not long after, I was able to mobilize and get some people to her in time. She’s fine.”
“Oh, thank God.” Sniffling, I sag forward until my forehead rests against his shoulder. “Bruno will be so relieved.”
If he ever wakes up.
“I know what will make you feel better,” Cormac says after a few long minutes of silence. “Come with me.”
After untangling myself from some of the lines and wires, Cormac helps me into a wheelchair and takes me out of my room, much to the horror of a passing nurse.
Cormac’s quick to persuade her that this is the best thing for me right now, and she relents with the condition that she comes with me and covers me with a blanket.
Cormac wheels me through the hospital and straight into the NICU where I have to go through several rounds of washing and thoroughly cleaning my hands and face before we’re allowed inside.
Then Cormac takes me right up to my baby, and the moment I’m staring at him through the walls of his incubator is the moment suddenly, nothing else matters.
He’s painfully small. And wrinkly. He sleeps soundly and doesn’t even look real. He rather looks like an old doll more than anything. My heart catches in my raw throat and tears creep up once again, but this time, they don’t fall.
“Oh, my God,” I whisper, pressing one hand against the incubator. “He… he’s okay?”
“Yes,” says the passing NICU nurse. “He’s a fighter just like his mama. He’s getting stronger every day.”
“I…” There are no words. How can something so impossibly small cause so much pain coming out of me? And how can my heart feel so overwhelmingly full when this is my first time seeing him.
“You can touch him,” the nurse says. “Gently. And carefully. But you can if you want to.”
“Oh, I can’t.” I shake my head quickly. “I don’t want to ruin him.”
“Saoirse.” Cormac sounds pained. “You could never.”
“He’s right.” The nurse walks closer to me and slides open one of the small, circular panels that’s just big enough to fit a hand through. “You’re his mother. You protected him and brought him into this world. I promise you can’t ruin him.”
Maybe they’re right.
Cautiously, I lift my hand and place it very delicately through the hole.
It takes some time for me to work up the courage to move it further, but eventually, I do.
The first time I make contact with his impossibly small hand is indescribable.
It’s like the world falls away and warmth descends over me like a blanket, seeping deep into my bones.
Then his tiny hand reacts and grips onto my finger. The movement is so shocking that my instinct is to immediately pull away, but I restrain myself and just stare in awe as he grips onto me with strength that feels unreal given how small he is.
“Oh, God,” I whisper as tears fall. “Look at him.”
Cormac’s hand rests gently on my shoulder. “I’m proud of you, Saoirse. So proud.”
They were right.
They were all right.
He’s a fighter, just like me.
And just like his father.