Page 37 of Penny
“You need to come with us, ma’am,” one of the men demanded in a low voice.
My head whipped frantically around as I searched for an escape. This couldn’t be happening right now. He pulled his suit jacket open, flashing a silver badge.
“Please get in the vehicle,” he snapped.
I was innocent, but I was not about to get my freedom by telling on the man who’d granted it to me. My throat constricted as I realized they would probably search my bag and think I had something to do with it.
I whipped around, sprinting as fast as I could. The cold October wind blew across my exposed skin, and my dress swayed. My breath was heavy, and my shoulder continuously slammed into people as they walked by.
“Wait, ma’am!” the man behind me yelled.
I was not waiting for anyone. My freedom tasted sweet on my tongue, and they would have to kill me to give it up. The bags I held slammed against me, and I tightened my grip to ensure I didn’t let go. I slid to a quick stop before turning into an alley and quickly picking up my pace again. Looking over my shoulder, I saw the police hadn’t rounded the corner yet, and my heart leaped for joy that I might be able to get away. Suddenly, my breath whooshed out of me as a tight hold wrapped around my stomach, lifting me in the air. My feet thrashed as I heard a car door being opened.
“Let me down,” I screamed, unable to see who had hoisted me up.
I was flung into a back seat with a heavy thud, and I shot up to make another run for it. A deadly gun click made my blood run cold and my limbs freeze. Looking at the passenger seat filled my stomach with rocks.
The man pointing the gun had a familiar tattoo on the top of his hand. A Celtic family crest that I had only seen on three people. The smell of cigar smoke filled the car's cab, burning my eyes. My body shifted back in the seat as the car lurched forward, and I looked up into the eyes of my kidnapper. This wasn’t the police, and my decision to running from them sat heavy in my stomach. Dark eyes stared at me, contrasted by his fair complexion.
“Try to make a run for it, and I’ll shoot you in the leg. You hear me?” he growled, and his voice sounded similar to Arthur’s. I straightened my shoulders, readying myself to ask a question I knew the answer to.
“Are you Connor and Liam’s uncle?” My heart galloped as I asked.
“Yes, and how lucky I am to meet you, Penny.”
Chapter 20
Connor
I sat in my office chair with my guitar on my lap, strumming the strings. Whiskey burned in my stomach, and my head was light. The vibrations of my music hummed through me, and I latched on to the comfort it gave me.
Emily had offered me everything I’d wanted when I was growing up. Escape from the world I was born into. She got her freedom while my death was at my door. My father wouldn’t forgive me for this, but I knew he would make it quick. That would be the only mercy he would grant me.
It was hard to obey the strict rules in our world when you didn’t want to be in it. Liam was meant for the structure and the statutes. He was calculating and productive, while I was impulsive and seized anything that brought me a moment of happiness for any reprieve I could find.
I slid my middle drawer out, grabbing a large bag of cocaine I had and tossed it onto my desk. My father controlled everything I did, and I didn’t want to give him a moment more of it. He had commanded how my life should go from the moment he’d purposely impregnated a trafficked woman. At least I had my biggest kept secret from him—my guitar. He would be pissed to know I took his control by having this and taking my life back in my own hands. It belonged to me.
Maybe in a different life, I could have had a girl like Emily. I poured the white powder onto the wood and scraped it into multiple long lines. Not caring to grab a straw to help only a little go into my system, I hovered my nose over the thick lines and snorted. My eyes slammed shut, and the burn trickled down my throat.
Strumming my guitar, I envisioned when I played for Emily every night. Her acceptance of me shined brightly in those evenings, and it made me wonder what we would have done if we’d run away together. It wouldn’t have been good for my brother. Liam would have spent his days looking for me. He would have never given up until he made sure I was safe. He didn’t need to spend his life worrying about the day my father would find me or the abandonment. I didn’t abandon him this way. This was about me taking my control back and doing something I needed to do.
I leaned over and snorted two more long lines. My vision swam, and the taste of chemicals dripped onto my tongue. My heart was racing, and my breath picked up pace.
Almost there.
I sucked in three more lines of cocaine, and my heart slammed against my rib cage in a bruising rhythm. My arm went limp, making my guitar fall to the floor with a loud crash. Nails hammered into my head, and Emily’s haunting gray eyes bored into me, soothing me as my vision blurred. My pulse pounded in my ears, telling me my Mo Cuishile was here.
“No, stop this, Connor. You can’t.”
Her soft voice rang in my head, and I felt her palm against my chest. I wished I could play that one song I wrote for her. She probably would have liked it.
“You can play it for me now. Open your eyes. For me, please.”
I heard a click from a door, but before I could scream to make this pain stop, my throat constricted. This wasn’t the right choice. Emily was right. I should have run away with her and asked my brother to come. Liam wouldn’t be okay if this happened, and he couldn’t be the one to find me.
Alcohol clouded my judgment, and the need to get back at my father felt like a heavy burden. Before I could call out for help, everything went gray until it all went black.
Chapter 21
