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Once again, the big man walked off as if I was annoying him. Maybe I was, but he was the first lead I had since Sypher told me about that fucking file. I had no damned idea what I was looking for or what I would find, but something in my gut told me I would find answers here.
I followed the man for what felt like miles. My fucking feet were killing me and thanks to wherever he was going, I lost my cell service about an hour ago. Wherever the big man was going, he didn’t seem to upset that I was following him. Not like I had any other options. According to him, he was my uncle Colin’s brother. That meant he was family. Only no family I ever met. But family was family.
Well, that’s what my dad and mom always drilled into me.
The sun was setting by the time we made it to a small cottage nestled near a hill. It wasn’t much, but the smoke coming out of the stone chimney told me it was dry and warm inside.
“Please, I need help,” I begged, as the man kept walking. “I need to find my uncle’s cottage.”
“Why?”
“Because I just do. It’s important.”
“Why?”
My God. He was just as annoying as Dwayne and Reggie. Neither of them could just come right out and tell me what I wanted to know without asking a million questions first. It had to be their Irish roots. Because no Italian could be this aggravating.
“Mr. Buchannon, please. I’ve come a long way. I’m tired and I just want to know where my uncle’s cabin is. I think he left something behind. Something that will shed light on what I’m dealing with.”
Well, it was technically the truth.
Kind of.
He didn’t need to know that I was being hunted by a sadistic son of a bitch hell bent on destroying my soon to be ex-husband. I just wanted to know why Petrovitch had a file with my uncle’s information.
“Told ya I don’t know nothing. Now leave before we both find ourselves in a lot of trouble.”
“What trouble?”
“IRA.”
“What does the IRA have to do with my uncle?”
“Not your uncle, lass. You.”
Now that stopped me short. “What?”
“They are looking for you. You best leave while you can. If they find you, they will sell you to the Russian for money.”
I didn’t need a translator for that.
I understood him clearly.
“Told you it wasn’t safe here for you. There is a bounty on your head. Pictures of you everywhere. You best leave now.” The big man said, walking into his cottage, only to return moments later, handing me a small leather-bound book, held together with a leather strap.
“Take this. Told him I didn’t want any part of this mess. He said someone would come for it. Guess that’s you. Now leave,” he said, before slamming his door in my face.
It was close to midnight by the time I walked back into my hotel room. After trekking all the way back over the Irish hillside, I finally made it to my car and quickly drove myself back to civilization.
Dropping my bag on the small table near the door, I wasted no time calling Sypher back. Ignoring the time difference, I didn’t give a damn if he was studying or sitting in a class. If he knew what was good for him, he better answer the damn phone.
Sitting on the small couch in my room, I kicked off my shoes, sighing as I stretched my toes in the thick carpet. Reaching for the leather-bound journal my uncle’s brother gave me, I untied the leather strap and opened the book, unsure of what I would find.
What I wasn’t expecting was to find most of the pages written in a mix of Russian, English and a language I never seen before.
What the hell? How did this journal end up in the hands of my uncle’s brother? How did he get this? Who gave it to him?
Flipping through the pages, most of it was undecipherable. I didn’t speak Russian or the chicken scratch I assumed, was another language. However, a few items stood out, like the names Tessa Jackson, Remi Anderson, Layla Franks, and my name, to name a few. The only connection to all of us was the fact we were all involved with leaders of their respective organizations. Tess belonged to Montana, Remi belonged to Reaper, Layla was married to Giovanni, and I was with Maxim. What I also found alarming was the names attached to ours.
