Mafia King (Young Irish Rebels #2) - Vi Carter Page 0,44
before I left.
Stuffing my bag along the bushes, I glance at the windows of the house. I’m not sure if it’s my ma or Emma I’m looking for, but I see neither.
Stepping into the house, my ma normally greets me, but this time I come face to face with my da.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
EMMA
I’m counting.
I’m holding back the tears.
I’m holding back my shattered dreams.
My throat burns, and it’s the snap of a branch, the opening of a dam, the horror that I’m living a life I feared.
He put his hands on me. He did it to cut off my words. Tears run down my cheeks, and I sniffle as I fight with myself. I want to get up, break down the door and return home.
Home to what? A dad who handed me to Shay? A brother who might not fulfill his promise? A mom who was six feet under?
I cover my burning face as more tears pour down my face. I swallow the pain that keeps pulsing in my neck. I can still feel his hands on me.
I push myself off the floor and stand. It feels like a lifetime that I stand there facing his window. I’m caged, trapped.
I enter the bathroom; blood still stains the white basin as I slowly strip off my clothes. Would I really go home?
No. I won’t let them see me like this. They gave me away, so they won’t get me back. But staying with Shay was terrifying. What happens when I annoy him again? Will he strangle me to death the next time? I could never fight him off.
I re-enter his room naked and wipe my eyes with the back of my hand before I start rummaging through his drawers. I’m careful putting everything back. I pause when I find what I am looking for. I open the pen-knife that has been sharpened.
I take the knife into the bathroom and lock the door behind me. I refuse to be a victim. More tears fall. Closing my eyes, I count in an attempt to slow my heart down. A weakness spreads through me, and a tiredness threatens to pull me under.
The water is warm as I step into the shower; I let the water wash over my skin. A sob escapes my lips as my hand touches my bruised neck. My face has started to ache from my earlier fight. I don’t want these dark memories.
I bring back a memory. I’m on Lady racing through the field. The wind tears at my hair and clothes. I’ve no saddle on her, and I know the line of where our land ends is coming close, but I don’t slow down. A road separates our land from next door’s. I cling tighter to Lady, and I want out at that moment. I seek freedom in running. The hedge line comes into view, and I know if I don’t slow down now, there will be no turning back.
I don’t stop, and I’m screaming, not in fear, in pure exhilaration. Lady’s hooves hit the road, the ground harder underneath her hooves, and then we are bursting into the next field. My heart is wild in my chest, but it was a moment—a moment like only a few moments we experience in life.
I push against the shower tiles as Shay lying in the bathtub under the moonlight reminds me of another moment.
But that’s all they are—moments.
I focus on washing quickly and getting out of the shower. The mirror has fogged up, and I don’t clear it as I start to get dressed. I don’t want to see the marks that still burn on my neck.
The knife in my pocket gives me some reassurance as I step back into Shay’s room. A gun would give me even more peace. I return to the drawers and start to look. The rattle of the door handle has heat rushing through my body. I pause before sliding the drawer closed and shuffling back towards the bed. The door handle continues to rattle, and someone knocks.
“Emma?” A male voice penetrates the door. It’s not Shay, and that knowledge has me rising to my feet and taking a step towards the door.
“Connor, please, leave her.” Shay’s mom is out there.
A door slams, and movement at the bedroom door moves away.
“Connor.” I hear the pleading tone in Shay’s mom’s voice. My stomach twists, and I’m walking to the door.
“I want her out of my home. You had no right bringing her here.”