Page List


Font:  

Saoirse

Dublin, Ireland

It’s happening.

It’s finally fucking happening.

Twelve months since I made the choice to leave, I’m getting the hell out of this nightmare.

The wind is biting as I make my way through the streets, pulling my black suitcase behind me.

I’ve managed to squeeze a lifetime’s worth of memories into this one suitcase. I’m pretty proud of the accomplishment.

I’d been forced to shed a lot, too, but it was unnecessary weight at this point.

I feel good about my decisions.

I feel good about the amount of money I’ve managed to save in the last year.

I can feel it burning a hole in my pocket, but in only a few hours, I’ll be on a plane out of Ireland.

Surely, I’ll start to feel safer then.

Right?

I checked to find a pawn shop open at all hours of the night. When I turn the corner, there it is—the Black Rook, looking just as grimy and inconspicuous as it had in the pictures online.

I want a place that flies under the radar. This’ll do perfectly.

I glance at my phone, but I know I don’t need to. No one’s going to miss me for hours.

I took the day off from work and Tristan is currently passed out drunk on the sofa in the living room. He won’t be up for a while.

Hopefully, when he does come to, I’ll be in the sky, headed towards a different life.

I step into the pawn store and head straight to the counter.

The man behind it is burly, bearded, and heavily tattooed.

The mirrors on the ceiling offer a birds’ eye view of his weirdly shiny bald head. It’s a struggle not to keep gawking at the reflection as I slip the wedding ring from my finger and place it on the counter.

The moment I’m no longer wearing it, I feel lighter.

“How much can you give me for this?” I ask, trying to keep the excited tremor out of my voice.

The guy takes the ring and examines it carefully. “Is this a genuine diamond?”

“I was told it is.”

“Small,” he comments with pursed lips.

“The band is white gold.”

“Whatever you can give me for it is fine.”

I have enough money to start fresh. I don’t really need the money from this ring. It’s more a symbolic action on my part.

“A hundred euros.”


Tags: Nicole Fox Kovalyov Bratva Erotic