Chapter 18
Kane
“We need to get moving,” Declan says, pocketing the key and coordinates. “If these lead where I think they do—”
“Hold up,” I interrupt, placing a hand on his arm. “Before we go charging off to the border, can we take a minute to think this through? We’re following breadcrumbs left by a man who faked his own death and lied to his entire family for decades.”
Declan’s jaw tightens. “What’s your point?”
“My point is, maybe we should be more cautious about walking into whatever he’s set up. For all we know, this could be a trap.”
“For whom?” Rory asks. “His own children?”
“I don’t know,” I admit, running a hand through my hair. “But nothing about this feels right.”
Declan studies me for a moment, then nods. “Fine. We’ll take a few hours to regroup. But we need to move quickly. If the Russians are tracking these same clues...”
“They’ve had thirty-three years,” I point out. “A few more hours won’t matter.”
We make our way back down the hill toward the parking lot, the weight of what we’ve found hanging over us. The metal case feels heavy in Declan’s pocket, a physical reminder of how our lives have changed in the span of two days.
“I need food,” Kat announces as we reach the cars. “My brain doesn’t work on an empty stomach.”
“There’s a pub about fifteen minutes from here,” Rory says, looking at his phone. “Good food, quiet atmosphere, according to the reviews on Google.”
“Perfect,” Wren agrees. “We could all use a moment to process.”
I glance at Kori, who’s been unusually quiet since we found the hidden compartment. “You okay with that?”
She nods, though she seems distracted. “Yeah, food sounds good.”
We split into our respective cars, with Kori joining me again. As we pull away from Tara, following Declan’s rental, I notice her fidgeting with her phone.
“Everything alright?” I ask, keeping my eyes on the road.
“Just checking my messages,” she says. “I haven’t had great service out here.”
“Welcome to rural Ireland, where the beer is strong and the cell signals are weak.”
She smiles, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. Something’s bothering her, but I don’t push. We’ve all got enough on our plates right now.
The pub Rory mentioned is a traditional Irish establishment—dark wood, low ceilings, and the comforting smell of hearty food. A few locals occupy the bar, nursing pints and watching a football game on the small TV in the corner.
We find a table in the back, away from curious ears.
A waitress takes our drink orders—water for me, despite the desperate craving for something stronger, and the others opt for various soft drinks and tea.
Kori orders a hot chocolate, which somehow strikes me as endearingly innocent given the circumstances.
“So,” Declan says once the waitress leaves, spreading out a map he’s produced from his jacket pocket, “these coordinates put us here.” He points to a spot near the Northern Ireland border.
“That’s MacGallan territory,” Rory notes. “Old territory, anyway. Before the Troubles.”
“What does that mean?” Kori asks, leaning forward to see the map.
“It means,” Declan explains, “that our family once owned land there. Property that was... complicated by the political situation.”
“Complicated is one word for it,” Kat mutters. “Seized is another.”
I study the map, trying to make sense of what Tomas is leading us toward. “Is there a specific building at these coordinates? A house, a farm?”
“On it,” Rory says, picking up his phone. “There’s an old castle,” he murmurs. “More of a fortified manor house, really. Been abandoned for decades.”
“Dragon Castle?” Wren asks, looking over his shoulder at his phone. “Is that what the locals call it?”
Rory nods. “Yeah. Because of the carvings on the gate. Could be our ‘dragon’ from the riddle.”
The waitress returns with our drinks and takes our food orders. I’m not particularly hungry, but I order a burger anyway, knowing I’ll need the energy for whatever comes next.
As we wait for our food, I find myself studying Kori again. She’s quiet, her attention focused on her phone beneath the table. Whatever she’s looking at has her frowning.
“Something interesting?” I ask quietly, nodding toward her phone.
“Just checking my email,” she says, quickly putting the phone away. “Junk mail.”
It’s a lie, and not a very convincing one, but before I can call her on it, the food arrives, momentarily distracting everyone.
We eat in relative silence, each lost in our own thoughts. I’m halfway through my burger when Kori’s phone starts ringing loudly. She jumps, fumbling to silence it, but not before I catch a glimpse of the caller ID: Mark.
Her face drains of color as she stares at the screen. The ringing continues, insistent and intrusive in the quiet pub.
“You should take it,” I find myself saying, though part of me wants to grab her phone and throw it across the room.
She hesitates, then stands abruptly. “Excuse me,” she murmurs, already moving toward the door, phone clutched in her white-knuckled grip.
I watch her go, feeling a strange twist in my gut. The cheating husband, calling at last. I wonder what he wants, what excuse he’s concocted for sleeping with her sister. I wonder if she’ll forgive him.
The thought bothers me more than it should.
“Kane?” Declan’s voice pulls me back to the table. “You with us?”
“Yeah,” I say, dragging my attention away from Kori’s retreating figure. “Just thinking.”
“About the castle?” Kat asks.
“Sure,” I lie. “The castle.”
Declan continues outlining his plan, but I’m only half-listening, my attention divided between his words and the pub door where Kori disappeared. Five minutes pass, then ten. Our plates are cleared, and still, she hasn’t returned.
“I’m going to check on her,” I announce, cutting off whatever Rory was saying about border crossings.
“We need to finalize the plan,” Declan protests.
“So, finalize it,” I say, already standing. “I’ll catch up.”
Outside, the afternoon sun is bright after the dim interior of the pub.
I scan the parking lot, finally spotting Kori leaning against the stone wall at the edge of the property, phone still pressed to her ear.
Even from this distance, I can see the tension in her posture, the rigid set of her shoulders.
I approach slowly, not wanting to intrude but concerned by how long this call is taking. As I get closer, I can hear her voice, tight with controlled anger.
“It doesn’t matter what you say, Mark. It happened. You slept with my sister.”
I freeze, suddenly feeling like I’m eavesdropping on something private. But before I can back away, she turns and spots me. Her eyes are dry but blazing with a fury that makes my chest tighten.
She holds up one finger in a “wait” gesture, then returns to her call. “I have to go. Please don’t call me again. I’ll contact you when I’m ready to discuss divorce proceedings.”
With that, she ends the call and drops her phone into her pocket, her movements precise and controlled.
“Sorry about that,” she says, her voice eerily calm. “Apparently, my husband has decided he made a terrible mistake and wants me to come home so we can ‘work things out.’”
“And what do you want?” I ask carefully.
A bitter laugh escapes her. “What do I want? I never want to have seen the photos. I want my sister not to be a backstabbing bitch. I want the last five years of my life back.” She takes a shaky breath. “But since none of that is possible, I’ll settle for a clean break and a fresh start.”
I nod, respecting her resolve. “For what it’s worth, I think you’re making the right call.”
“Because you’re such an expert on healthy relationships?” she challenges, but there’s no real heat in her words.
“No,” I admit. “But I know something about living with lies. It eats at you, even when you try to ignore it.”
She studies me for a moment, then her expression softens. “How are you holding up? With all of this?” She gestures vaguely in the direction of the pub, encompassing my family and our strange treasure hunt.
“I’m fine,” I say automatically.
“Liar,” she counters with a small smile.
“Takes one to know one,” I shoot back. “You weren’t checking junk emails in there.”
She has the grace to look slightly embarrassed. “Jen, my friend, gave him my number after he badgered her for the past three days. Mark’s been texting since last night. I was trying to ignore him.”
“And how’s that working out for you?”
“About as well as your ‘I’m fine’ act is working for you.”
We stand there for a moment, at an impasse of mutual deception. Then, to my surprise, she starts laughing—a genuine laugh that crinkles the corners of her eyes.
“We’re a mess, aren’t we?” she says.
“Speak for yourself,” I reply with mock indignation. “I’m a perfectly functional human being.”
“Says the man I dug out of the sand.”
“That was a therapeutic burial. Very different.”
She rolls her eyes, but she’s still smiling. The tension from her phone call seems to have dissipated somewhat.
“We should go back in,” I say, nodding toward the pub. “Declan’s probably having an aneurysm over his meticulously planned schedule.”
“Do you ever stop antagonizing him?” she asks as we start walking.
I pretend to consider this. “Sometimes when I’m sleeping. But even then, I’m probably dreaming about it.”
As we reach the door, she pauses, placing a hand on my arm. “Kane?”
“Hmm?”
“Thank you. For checking on me.”
Something warm unfurls in my chest at her words. “Anytime, Airplane Girl.”
We rejoin the others, who are deep in discussion about the best route to the castle. Declan barely acknowledges our return, too focused on his map to look up.
“We should reach the castle by nightfall if we leave now,” he’s saying. “Rory knows the back roads that will keep us away from any potential surveillance.”
“Surveillance?” Kori whispers to me. “Is he serious?”
“Unfortunately,” I murmured back. “Welcome to the paranoid world of the MacGallans.”
“So, we’re definitely going to this dragon castle place?” I ask the table at large.
Declan finally looks up. “Yes. Unless you have a better suggestion?”
I don’t, and he knows it. “Fine. But we stay together, and at the first sign of trouble, we leave. All of us.” I glance at Kori. “But first, I need to take Kori back to Wavecrest.”
“Why?” Declan demands.
“Because she needs to pick up something if she’s coming with us,” I say, deciding without consulting her.
“What is it?” Declan bites out. “Can’t she just stop at a store and buy whatever it is?”
“It’s her inhaler.”
She looks surprised that I remembered, but nods in agreement.
Declan sighs dramatically. “Fine. But we’re on a tight schedule. One hour detour, max.”
As everyone gathers their things, Kori slips me a side glance. “I wasn’t expecting an abandoned castle near the border,” she murmurs, voice low but steady.
“I know,” I replied. “But after that call with Mark, I’d feel better if you weren’t alone.”
She studies me for a moment. “Are you deciding what’s best for me now?” Her tone isn’t harsh, just careful.
My chest tightens. “No—I just don’t want you on your own right now.”
She exhales softly. “I came to Tara because you asked me to. I trust you, Kane, but I’m not sure I’m ready for a full-on family treasure hunt.”
I nod, embarrassed. “I’m sorry—I shouldn’t have assumed you’d jump right in.”
Her shoulders relax a little. “Thank you. I really appreciate you looking out for me, but I need to make my own call on this.”
“I understand,” I say. “What would feel right to you?”
She hesitates, glancing down as she fiddles with her jacket zipper. “I’ll go back for my inhaler. After that…” She draws a slow breath. “Then I’ll decide.”
“That sounds fair,” I agree, relief washing over me. “Deal.”
We head toward the cars, and Declan falls in beside me. “You sure bringing her along is wise?”
I shrug. “Maybe not.”
He arches an eyebrow. “We don’t know what we’re walking into.”
“I know,” I admit, irritation flickering at the edge of my voice. “Which is why she gets to bow out after we stop at Wavecrest.”
Declan studies me, expression unreadable. “You like her.”
It isn’t a question, and I say nothing. I walk to my rental, where Kori is already in the passenger seat, illuminated by the glow of her phone as she types.
Sliding behind the wheel, I catch sight of her screen—she’s drafting an email to a divorce lawyer.
I start the engine and give her the estate’s address so the lawyer can send the papers there. Because I’m oddly comforted by her clarity. Whatever today brings, Kori Blake knows exactly what she wants.
Me? I’m still piecing together a past I barely knew existed—chasing breadcrumbs to a sister I never knew, chasing answers from a father who never claimed me.
As I pull onto the road, tailing Declan’s car heading in the direction of Wavecrest, all I can do is hope she isn’t sick of seeing me yet because I’m not ready to let her go.