Like I’m about to lose balance.
To fall headfirst into an endless abyss.
“Won’t it be sad?” Tristan continues as I try to process the offer he’s just made.
Except it’s not really an offer at all.
It’s a threat.
“If the men who want their money back come to get your father, they’ll take their pound of flesh when they find he can’t pay, darling. By the time they’re done, you won’t even be able to bury the man,” Tristan whispers into my ear. “Ask yourself, my dear: is Cillian O’Sullivan worth that?”
My fingers have started trembling again.
I raise my tear-stained eyes to him. “Please,” I beg, all my fight gone. “Don’t do this.”
“I’m trying to save you, Saoirse. You and your miserable father,” he croons. “Let me.”
I shake my head, but he grabs my hand and pulls me close.
“Make the decision now,” he says. “Make it fast. It won’t stay on the table long.”
“Tristan…”
“I so love the way you say my name,” he interrupts abruptly.
He puts his hand under my jaw and pulls my face up to meet his.
“I… I…”
I can’t find my voice. It’s gone. I left it on the rooftop of the Free Canary.
All I have left is screams.
“Well, Saoirse?” he asks, his eyes boring into mine challengingly. “Are you gonna save yourself? Are you gonna save your father? All you have to do is say yes.”
Just say yes.
Is that all?
It seems so simple.
But Tristan Rearden has turned that one little word into a death sentence.
“Make your decision,” Tristan says, his fingers tightening under my jaw. “And make it now.”