Chapter Sixteen #2
“Not a chance.” He stepped in and undid the buckle on his jeans.
“And it’s good that you’re talking, that you’re compos fucking mentis because that means you’ll truly experience the hard-ass fucking I’m gonna give you.
” He whipped his belt from the loops of his jeans and tossed it aside.
It landed near the pitchfork. “I’m gonna give it to you so good, fuck you up the ass the way you shafted me in that courtroom.
You didn’t even try to persuade the jury to let me off.
You just strutted around, swaying your fat fucking ass and fluttering your eyelashes. ”
“That’s not true.” I lolled to the right. If I could just reach the pitchfork.
“Oh no, you’re going nowhere, Little Miss Bitch, and I can tell you now, you won’t be leaving this stable alive, but you will be leaving it well and truly fucked up.”
My heart stuttered. The fear coursing through me was palpable, alive, another living, breathing thing that had possessed me.
“You’ll never get away with this,” I said, the words grating over my tongue. “People will be looking for me, the police will be here soon.”
“I don’t think so.” Roughly, he flipped me over so my face was pressed into the prickly straw.
I tried to wriggle away, but he grabbed me around the waist and yanked down my trousers to expose my ass.
* * * *
Cillian
“Which farm first?” Jamie asked from behind the steering wheel.
“Mitch say anything else about the area?” I asked. “When we went to get the phone.”
“Only crime reported of late was a trailer getting nicked from Over Acre Farm, a mile away.”
“So peaceful then.”
“Yeah.” Finn pointed forward. “Let’s try this big one, with the cattle sign on the gate.”
Jamie crept along. The driveway was half tarmac and half gravelly potholes. I gripped the seat and stared out at the horizon. She was here somewhere. I could sense it. It was a tug in my guts, a magnetic thread drawing me to her.
I glanced at Finn. He could sense it, too, I was sure.
As we got closer to the cluster of farm buildings, two black-and-white boarder collies raced toward us, circling the vehicle and yapping.
“Little fuckers better not scratch it,” Jamie muttered.
We passed a dirty green tractor, a trailer with a flat back tire, and a barn full of cows with their calves.
“There, the farmer.” Dalton pointed ahead.
Sure enough, leaning on a stick, a gentleman was staring our way.
Jamie pulled to a halt.
“Leave this to us,” Finn said. “Don’t want to overwhelm him.”
“Fair enough.” Phil nodded. He knew his size could be intimidating.
We stepped out and the dogs surrounded us, sniffing and nudging our legs.
The farmer eyed us suspiciously.
“Hey,” Finn said. “Sorry to bother you, sir.”
“You haven’t yet.” He touched a sun-bleached purple baseball cap that was shielding his face from the sun.
“It’s just we’re looking for someone, a woman, thought you might have seen her.”
He huffed and wiped his hand on a threadbare green fleece that had NFU embroidered on the chest. “I got a gun, you know.”
“I’m sure you have, sir.” I glanced at Finn. My own gun was pressing into the hollow of my back.
“In case you’re thinking of robbing me.”
“Absolutely not, sir. We’re honest God-fearing Irish boys, I swear. We’re just searching for a missing person, that’s all. We’re worried about her, and her last known location was down the lane there.” Finn pointed in the direction we’d come in. “A few hours ago.”
“I ain’t seen no woman, just cows around here.”
As he spoke, the breeze brought a whiff of cattle dung our way.
“Dairy,” he said. “Got a thousand girls.”
“That’s a lot.” Finn blew out a breath. “And a lot of work.”
I studied the place. There was nothing untoward. An old green Jeep, a few chickens, a pile of broken stuff that appeared to be a plow, a few tires and ripped tarpaulins.
“What’s that place over there?” I asked, gesturing to the smaller farm, beyond a copse of silver birches.
The farmer huffed. “Hobby farm.”
“What’s a hobby farm?” Finn asked.
“What it sounds like.” The farmer used his stick to send a stone skittering to the right. “Got some land, don’t use it right, got four old dairy cows, don’t get no milk. Had a horse.” He pointed at a bay grazing in a paddock to our right. “Didn’t know how to care for it so I took her on.”
“So they don’t make any money?”
“No.” He shrugged. “Which means they don’t need any. Lucky bastards. Farming ain’t what it was, you know. These city folk can roll in and play at it. Live off the cash they made in the bright lights.”
“Doesn’t seem fair.” Finn shook his head. “Must be a family, is it? Wanted their kids to grow up with fresh air and bare feet.”
“I have no bloody idea.” The farmer clicked his tongue on the roof of his mouth. “All I see is cars coming and going, must have a whole herd of mates who do the rounds. Never seen or heard no kids.”
“A lot of cars.” I studied the two low buildings that appeared to be barns with corrugated roofs and next to them a white stone building which seemed to be the house. It was too far to make out much else.
“Perhaps we should see if she’s wandered in there after her picnic,” Finn said.
“Good idea,” I said.
“You’ll be lucky, they have a bloody big chain on their gate.”
“They do?” My heart squeezed. Why would a farm with almost nothing on it need a massive fucking chain? This one had no security from what I could tell, except for a couple of dogs and the threat of a gun somewhere on the premises.
“Ah, we’ll give it a miss then.” Finn grabbed my arm. “Thanks for your time.”
We jumped back on the vehicle. “Give it a miss?” I said with a frown. “Really?”
“No fucking way. That’s suspicious as fuck. Drive, Jamie.”