Page 64 of Blindsided
“Yeah,” I confirm, suddenly certain. “I’m in this now, Kane. All the way.”
He reaches across the space between us, taking my hand in his. His skin is warm, his grip firm and reassuring. “Thank you,” he says.
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 acastle 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 thistime. Colder.”
