If there could be any upside to the loss of a brother, it was that her mother had seen how she was allowing her damage to affect her children and she sought help, getting clean despite the odds in order to take care of her two daughters, now in their early teens. They still struggled to put food on the table and keep a roof over their head. She and her sister, whose father was a mystery even to their mother, were alone a lot, with their mother working two jobs to provide for them.
“We’re here.”
The voice forced Eimear out of her head and back into the present. The van lurched to a halt, and a front door opened, sounding like the driver’s side. She could hear it close again and footsteps making their way around to the back of the van. The sound of the back doors opening was followed by whatever was in the back with her shifting, its weight causing the van to rock a bit as it climbed out. Her nostrils were once again filled with its scent, somehow foul but also intoxicating in a way that she couldn’t quite describe.
There was a strange popping and cracking noise that seemed to come from just outside, and then the one called Fergus was speaking. His voice was distinct from the others, deep and booming. Forceful.
“Get her out of the van and give her to Finola. Tell her to get her cleaned up and find her some clothes, enough for at least a week. I’m going to get packed. We can’t stay here.”
“I’ll get my stuff. How long will we be gone?”
“No. You stay here and protect the others. I’m going to take her away from here until we sort this out.”
“Did we make a mistake?”
“No. It’s just going to be a little harder than anticipated. I’m not giving her back until he gives up the location of our missing girls and women. Get her out and tended to. I don’t have time to waste.”
“Olcan, there you are,” another voice piped up, a woman. “Your father wants to see you right now.”
“Go,” she heard Fergus grunt. “I’ll tend to her myself.”
She felt the van tilt a bit as he climbed back inside and pulled her to her feet. She gasped as he shoved her forward, thinking she might fall out of the back and onto the ground, but he stopped her, his powerful arms reaching out before hopping out of the van and pulling her down into his arms. It was amazingly gentle, but she was over all of this cloak-and-dagger nonsense and in no mood to be agreeable.
“You need to wash your filthy dog. He stinks.”
“What?” he asked.
“Whatever kind of nasty dog that was you stuffed into the van with me. The smell was vile.”
“Was it?” he asked, chuckling a bit as he walked her toward wherever they were going. “You don’t exactly smell like a flower garden yourself right now, sunshine.”
“Take me out of these bindings and get this hood off of me. I’ll be happy to go home and get a nice hot bath.”
“I’m sure you would, but I’m afraid that until your boyfriend gives us what we want, you’ll be spending a lot more time like this.”
“Please, I need to pee and I need a bath. I’m so tired and sore,” she said, trying to switch her tactics to sound more sympathetic.
“No time. We’re on our way again in a few minutes. I’ll get you to the bathroom, but that’s as good as you’ll get.”
“Where are we going now? I thought we just went somewhere.”
“You ask too many questions. Let’s get you to the jacks and then we’ll talk.”
“Jacks?”
“The bog. Bathroom,” he said.
“Oh,” she replied.
She shuffled along beside him, her feet barely able to move for the way they were tied. After a few minutes, he grew frustrated and she found herself being hauled up into his arms and carried across what sounded like a gravel lot of some sort, then he was opening a door and stepping inside. The coolness of air conditioning hit her, so they were apparently at least somewhere halfway civilized.
“Put me down. I can walk.”
“I don’t have the time or the patience,” he told her, pushing open another door and carrying her inside. “Here we are—bathroom. I’ll help you with your pants.”
“What? No. Just untie me and let me do it myself.”
“Not a chance. I can help you or you can piss your kecks. Makes no difference to me.”
Eimear was horrified, but she had to pee and had no idea how far they were going next.
“Fine.”
She held her breath as he popped the button and unzipped her pants, pulling them down, along with her panties, before inching her back until she felt the toilet on the back of her legs. She sat down, wondering if he was looking at her. She was exposed to him, humiliated, but she’d held it so long, her pee had no shame. A flood hit the toilet in what seemed like an endless stream.