Chapter 22 #2
We sit like that for a while, hands linked, the crackling fire casting dancing shadows across the worn furniture. Outside, rain continues to fall, a gentle patter against the windows that feels like a lullaby.
“We should get some sleep,” I eventually say, though I make no move to release his hand. “Big day tomorrow.”
Kane nods but doesn’t let go either. “One more thing,” he says, his voice low. “That panic attack today—has that happened before?”
I consider lying, but something in his eyes tells me he’d see right through it. “Sometimes,” I admit. “Not often, but when I get overwhelmed or in small spaces. The asthma makes it worse.”
He nods, processing this information. “And the inhaler helps?”
“Usually, yes. But sometimes I need... grounding. What you did today, getting me outside, helping me to breathe—that was perfect.”
“Good to know,” he says seriously. “For next time.”
“Next time?” I raise an eyebrow. “You think I’m going to have another panic attack?”
“I think we’re hunting for a missing person who may or may not be in danger from Russians,” Kane says logically. “Seems like the kind of situation where anything could happen.”
His blunt assessment startles a laugh out of me. “Good point. Though I’m hoping to avoid any more encounters with old skeletons.”
“I’ll do my best to keep you away from the bony remains,” he promises with mock solemnity. “Though I can’t speak for any freshly made corpses we might stumble across.”
“Comforting,” I say dryly, but I’m smiling. There’s something about Kane’s dark humor that cuts through the tension, making even this bizarre situation feel manageable.
He squeezes my hand once more before reluctantly letting go. “Get some sleep. Tomorrow, we find out what Tomas thought was worth dying for.”
The tone of his voice sends a warm flutter through my chest. “Goodnight, Kane.”
As I climb the stairs back to the room I’m sharing with Kat, I realize I haven’t checked my phone in hours. When I pull it from my pocket, I find a dozen missed calls from Jen and a text from Mark. The most recent says, “I know you’re in Ireland.” I’m coming to find you.
I stare at the message, my earlier sense of calm evaporating. How does he know where I am? I never told him. The only person who knows is Jen, and she wouldn’t—
Unless Mark went to her apartment again, this time more insistent. More threatening. Jen would cave if pushed hard enough; she’s never been good with confrontation.
I call her and she picks up immediately. “Kori!” Her voice trembles. “I’m so sorry—he just showed up at my door, pounding and screaming. I thought he might break it down.”
I press my forehead against the cool wall. “Don’t worry about it. I should have warned you he might pull something like this. What did he say to you? Did he threaten you?” I gripped the phone tighter, anxiety crawling up my spine.
“He was... intense. Said he knew we were close and that I had to know where you’d gone.
When I wouldn’t tell him, he started talking about your old photos on Instagram—something about a castle you’d mentioned wanting to visit someday.
” Jen’s voice cracked. “I’m so sorry, Kori.
When he mentioned Ireland, I must have reacted. He saw it on my face.”
I closed my eyes, remembering the conversation years ago when I’d shown Jen pictures of Kilkenny Castle, talking about my dream trip. Mark had been there too, pretending to scroll through his phone, apparently absorbing every word.
“Listen to me,” I said, lowering my voice as a door opened down the hallway. “You need to block his number. Don’t answer your door without checking who it is first.”
“But what about you? If he’s really coming there—”
“I’ll handle it.” Though I had no idea how. Ireland suddenly felt much smaller than it had an hour ago. “I’m staying with the people from the plane, Kane and his family. I’m not alone.”
“People you just met,” Jen reminded me. “You don’t know if you can trust them.”
The irony wasn’t lost on me—I’d fled across an ocean to escape one person I thought I could trust, only to put my safety in the hands of strangers.
“Kane seems like the real deal,” I said, though doubt crept in. “If I need help, I’m sure he would jump right in.”
“Just... be careful. Mark seemed different this time. Colder.”
After hanging up, I leaned against the wall, my legs suddenly weak. I rechecked the message, reading the eight words that had shattered my peace. I’m coming to find you. No question mark, no “can we talk?”—just a statement of intent.
I opened the airline app and checked flights from Toronto to Dublin. The next direct flight leaves in four hours. If he got on it, he’d be here tomorrow.
I should feel panicked at the thought of Mark tracking me down here, but instead, a strange calm settles over me.
Let him come. Let him see me with Kane and his family, living a life that has nothing to do with the cage he built for me in Toronto.
Let him see that I’m not the woman he married anymore—or rather, that I’m becoming the woman I was before he slowly erased me.
I delete the message without responding and turn off my phone. Whatever Mark is planning, it can wait until morning. Tonight, I’m going to sleep and dream of kissing Kane in the rain.
When I enter the bedroom, Kat is already asleep, her auburn hair spilling across the pillow.
I slip into my own bed as quietly as possible, pulling the scratchy blanket up to my chin.
Despite the day’s revelations and my husband’s ominous message, I fell asleep almost immediately, lulled by the steady rhythm of the rain against the window.
I dream of dragons with ruby eyes and hidden treasures, of skeletons that speak in riddles, and a sister with Kane’s eyes. And through it all, Kane’s voice calling me A stór, my treasure, as we run through ancient castle halls pursued by shadows with Russian accents.
When I wake, sunlight is streaming through the thin curtains, and Kat is already up and dressed, lacing her boots with efficient movements.
“Morning, sunshine,” she says, noticing my stirring. “Sleep well?”
“Better than I expected,” I admit, sitting up and running a hand through my disastrous hair. “What time is it?”
“Just past seven. Declan wants to hit the road by eight, get to Dublin before the bank closes at one.” She pulls her hair into a high ponytail. “There’s coffee downstairs if you hurry.”
The mention of coffee is enough to get me moving. I dress quickly in yesterday’s clothes, now mostly dry, and follow the scent of caffeine downstairs.
The others already occupy the small dining room. Kane looks up as I enter, his smile warming me more effectively than any coffee could. He’s wearing the same clothes as yesterday, his hair still rumpled from sleep, but somehow, he manages to look unfairly attractive despite it all.
“Morning,” he says, sliding a mug of coffee toward the empty chair beside him. “Milk, no sugar, right?”
The fact that he’s noticed how I take my coffee already does something strange to my insides. “Perfect,” I say, taking the seat and wrapping my hands around the warm mug. “Thanks.”
Declan is already in planning mode, a map spread out on the table between plates of toast and eggs. “It’s about a three-hour drive to Dublin,” he’s saying. “We should arrive around noon, which gives us plenty of time to visit the bank before closing.”
“And then what?” Rory asks around a mouthful of toast. “Assuming we find something useful in this safety deposit box?”
“Depends on what it is,” Declan says. “If it’s information about Ella’s current whereabouts, we follow that lead. If it’s about Tomas, same thing.”
“And if it’s about the Russians?” Wren asks, her expression serious.
A heavy silence falls over the table. I look around at their faces—Declan’s determined, Wren’s concerned, Rory’s curious, Kat’s wary. Only Kane seems detached, stirring his coffee with mechanical precision as if the conversation has nothing to do with him.
“Then we reassess,” Declan finally says. “One step at a time.”
I feel Kane tense beside me, though his expression remains neutral.
I wonder what he’s thinking, how he’s really feeling about all of this.
The man whose identity was shattered days ago is now heading to a bank to uncover more secrets about the father who abandoned him and the sister he never knew existed.
Without thinking, I place my hand on his thigh under the table, a silent gesture of support. He startles slightly, then covers my hand with his, giving it a gentle squeeze.
“Eat something,” he murmurs, pushing a plate of toast toward me. “It’s going to be a long day.”
I oblige, though my appetite is minimal. As I nibble on the toast, I check my phone, steeling myself for more messages from Mark. To my surprise, there’s nothing new. Just the ominous I’m coming to find you from last night.
“Everything okay?” Kane asks, noticing my frown.
“Mark knows I’m in Ireland,” I say quietly, so only he can hear. “He says he’s coming to find me.”
Kane’s expression darkens. “How does he know where you are?”
“He showed up at Jen’s house in a wild rage. Wouldn’t leave until he got it out of her.” I shrug, aiming for casualness, though my stomach is in knots. “It doesn’t matter. Ireland’s a big place. He has no idea where exactly I am.”
“Still,” Kane says, his voice tight. “If he shows up...”
“I’ll handle it,” I assure him. “He’s my problem, not yours.”
Kane looks like he wants to argue, but Declan chooses that moment to stand, folding his map with military precision.
“Time to move,” he announces. “Same cars as yesterday. We’ll meet at the Bank of Ireland on College Green.”
As we gather our meager belongings and settle our bill with the proprietor, I find myself watching Kane.
There’s a new tension in his shoulders, a coiled energy that wasn’t there yesterday.
He’s moving toward answers now—real, concrete information about his past, his family, his identity.
And I realize I’m nervous for him. What if what we find in that safety deposit box only brings more pain?
Outside, the morning is crisp and clear, the rain having washed away the previous day’s gloom. As we walk to the cars, Kane falls into step beside me.
“Ride with me?” he asks, a hint of uncertainty in his voice.
“Of course,” I say, as if there was ever any doubt.