“Anywhere to get away from him,” I say in a hushed voice. The last thing I need is for my da to find me leaving. I refuse to be a part of a bargain. I’m a person, not an object to be traded. Especially not to some man I don’t even know. I refuse to be treated as a possession when I have a mind of my own.
“Can I come with you?” Alison whimpers. She knows what it’s like, we’re only three years apart. She’s about to turn eighteen and our da would soon start looking for someone for her to marry as well.
It’s what happens when your da is the Boss of the Irish mafia in Ireland. See he wants his daughters to go to the higher ranking associates. In our world being married to one of the Boss’ daughters not only secures their place in the organization but places them in the position for when my da is ready for retirement.
I, for one, don’t want to be used for a place holder and allow some man I don’t know to use my body to breed more soldiers for the cause. I may have been raised in this world but don’t want any part of it. I want the freedom to be who I want to be without having to worry if I cross someone I’m not supposed to.
This is why I’m packing as much as I can in a knapsack. I intend to leave this life and go to America, where I can hopefully be free of it all. Away from the ridiculousness of this world I was born into.
“I’m sorry, Alison, if we both go Da will find us for sure. You know he won’t let us both go. Not without a fight. With you not being eighteen yet we have time to figure something out for you,” I say, leaving the rest unsaid. I feel horrible about leaving my sister, but I have no choice. My heart clenches at the thought of never seeing her again as I shove the last few things I’m able to fit into my knapsack.
A few changes of clothes. Money. My passport and other IDs.
With tears in my eyes, I reach out and pull Alison into my arms, embracing her for what must be the last time. Though I’ll miss Alison I have to do this. I won’t be subjected to becoming someone’s wife, not when I’ve yet to live.
Pulling away from our embrace, I pick up my knapsack and head for the window. If I were to chance going through one of the doors, I’ll never make it off the property. This leaves me with only one choice, to climb out the window like some bandit in the night.
“Call me when you get somewhere safe,” Alison murmurs as I throw a leg over and find my footing in one of the trellis holes.
Hopefully this thing will hold me. At five foot nine you wouldn’t be able to classify me as overweight if you looked at me, but my doctor, the jerk he is, says I could afford to lose a few extra pounds.
My thought of his advice being he can kiss a monkey’s rear. Just because I’m not a size zero doesn’t mean I’m fat. I simply have curves in all the right places with the hourglass figure I inherited from my mother’s side of the family. What’s the saying I’ve heard many times before, men prefer a woman who is well endowed. Big tits and nice round rump. Yeah, that’s it. Where I’m more filled out my sister is lacking, but she still has a way to go. And plus she takes after our father’s side in looks with her darker hair. Swear my body is the only thing I love about myself. The rest of me, from my mismatched eyes, lips, my small nose, and my curly blonde hair frustrate me to no end.
All the way up until I’d finished school other girls would pick on me. If it weren’t for my last name, I’m sure they would have done more than make snide comments about my appearance. I’d never been happier to finish school. Besides Alison, I didn’t have anyone to talk to, and now I’m about to be on my own.
Nodding to my sister, I begin my descent down the trellis doing my best to avoid the thorns of the vines which have been growing up the side of the house for years. My father has a gardener who trims them back when they start to go haywire.
Making it down to the bottom I sigh before turning around only to come face to face with the most gorgeous man I’ve ever seen in my life. I mean gorgeous with his hair neatly in place, beard trimmed close to his face, and even in the dark of night I could see just how beautiful his dark eyes are. Bonus for him is he’s tall. I barely come up to his chin in height.
“Going somewhere, mo chuisle?” the man asks, smirking at me as he stands there with his arms crossed over his chest.
Holy mother that accent though. I’ve never heard a man speak with such a baritone, and if I’m not mistaken, he’s American.
Glancing up and down his body, I take in the slacks he’s wearing to the shirt he has on with the sleeves rolled up to the elbow. The way his shirt conforms to his chest I find myself wanting to run my hands along it.
Um, yeah, hello, we’re trying to get out of here, and this guy is a complete stranger. My brain says, trying to regain control of my body.
“Ahh, yes, I am, so if you’ll excuse me, I’ll just be heading that way,” I mumble as I dart my gaze away from the godly looking man.
“Be as it may, mo chuisle, I don’t
