**Hello everyone! It's me again. Being snowed in really makes for some productive use of time – I was able to write for three days straight! As always, thank you for following me and my story and I'm hoping that you love it as much as I do. Please see the author's note at the end of the story, and as always, BDS does not belong to me!**

Chapter 13

I had to admit, London was a gorgeous city. Even just getting out of the airport, I knew that this four day layover wasn't going to be a hardship. I hailed a taxi and gave the driver the name of my hotel. I enjoyed the scenic drive, the warm day showcasing new flowers and happy people. I checked in, dropped my bags in my room, and raced to make my appointment on time.

"Good afternoon, Miss! It is a pleasure for us to serve you today!" The salon receptionist was a bubbly girl, ushering me to a quiet room to relax while my stylist finished up her current client.

I put my feet up on the rest provided for me and contemplated what had led me here.

After the whirlwind of discovering a trail of breadcrumbs that would lead me far away from home, I enlisted the help of three important people: Doc for the location, Aileen for the means, and Agent Smecker for the ability. There was no one else that needed to know what was going on. I had a feeling that would play in my favor.

Doc's bible had so far been the least useful of my tools, but it was a constant reminder for me to have faith. This would all work out, and if it didn't, it was in God's hands. Aileen had given me money and provisions, insisting that she take care of most of the expenses. Flying across the Atlantic wasn't cheap, especially since I didn't want anyone to be following me. I had four days in London, then two in Madrid. Eventually, I would land in Dublin. From there it would be a train ride and hopefully a taxi, but those couldn't be booked ahead of time. By that point, Siobhan Gray would be no more.

That's where Agent Smecker came in. I had a new passport and a new identity. Siobhan Gray was still in Boston. Siobhan O'Grady from Chicago, Illinois had flown into London just this morning, heading to Ireland to visit family. Sometime next week, there would be a horrible car accident and a disfigured body would be identified as my remains. I had no family to mourn me and I was confident that Aileen would be a fantastic actress. It was the perfect plan, as long as someone didn't fuck up big time.

"Miss O'Grady? I'm Jean. Are you ready for your makeover?"

I nodded. That was the one part of this that I wasn't looking forward to. It had been Aileen's suggestion to change my look, just in case I was recognized. I kept my eyes closed until the weight of my hair was gone. Jean kept my mind occupied with meaningless chit chat, but I was happy for the distraction. I was cut, dyed, plucked, waxed, painted, and styled. She spun me around and I gasped. It took hours, but I didn't even recognize myself.

My hair was cut to the shoulders with multiple layers and the color was absolutely beautiful. I asked her to keep the base color the same but add in a few highlights to make it a little bit different. She used a soft honey color and it brought out the color in my eyes, or so she said. I paid her in cash, trying to avoid using the credit card in my new name as much as possible.

The next few days, I went sightseeing. I had never really travelled before and I wanted to take it all in. I took a tour of Big Ben. I enjoyed a royal tea in a rather posh restaurant. I shopped in fancy boutiques, finding clothes that would suit the warmer weather in a wetter climate. I felt fantastic, but very anxious. After a wonderful steak dinner at Ember Yard, a pub near my hotel, jetlag caught up to me and I fell blissfully asleep.

My time in Madrid was rushed and the time change wrecked havoc on my internal systems. Then again, that could have been in part to the rich food I was indulging in. I found myself toying with Gram's rosary on a constant basis. I was beyond anxious. I was nervous. I was scared. I was so close to the end of my journey, I could taste the whiskey, but I knew that I wasn't in the clear yet. Getting to Ireland was just the beginning.

Dublin was a bustling city and I had more than a bit of trouble finding the route to the train station. It didn't help that I now had a full suitcase to deal with instead of just my duffle bag. I finally got my ticket and prepared for the wait. I had a few hours to kill, but didn't want to get lost again. Here, I was trying not to stand out too much and getting lost and having to call a taxi would be a huge issue. There was no way I could pretend to have an accent. I was obviously American, but was mostly ignored by the people at the station.

The ride was uneventful and upon reaching Ranelagh, I found myself unable to get a taxi. There just weren't any to get. I guess I had expected a village busier than what I got, but it was quaint. It was a place of hardworking people, judging by what I saw. There were a bunch of smiles and offers of help, all of which I declined politely. I rented a locker at the train station and shoved my bags into it. I carried only my small purse with me.

I tried to think like a MacManus. They wouldn't be living in the heart of town. They would want their privacy more than anything, but close enough to a pub or two. They would need to eat so I would guess they would be in relative distance to a grocery store. I yanked the map I printed off of Google and looked it over. There was one area on the outskirts of town that I felt had promise. At the very least, there were places to get something to remedy to rumble in my stomach.

It was a further walk than I anticipated and my sandals weren't the best choice for footwear. May was a beautiful month, but it was still wet. Thankfully, I had brought a sweater to wear over my clothes so I wasn't worried about the breeze. I could understand the draw of the Isle, especially when in beautiful places like this.

I sensed someone following me before too long. I was tempted to carry on like they weren't there, but I had a feeling that would not be a good idea. There was a pub up ahead and I made that my destination. I got as far as the large tree across the road when a large arm snaked out and grabbed me, slamming me backwards into the bark. I bit back a yell, but I wasn't hurt.

"What do ye think ye're doing here, lassie?" The voice was old, very male, and a hint of danger was laced through the words.

I turned my head, not surprised to recognize the face. "It's you then."

It was the old man from the diner, the one who had given me goose bumps by just looking at me. Now that I wasn't afraid of him, I could see the family resemblance. There was no denying he was a MacManus.

His grip on my shoulder was rough, but I doubted he even knew it. "Ye need to git home, girl. This ain't no place fer ye."

I straightened up and shrugged his hand off of me. "This is the only place for me. You made them leave me behind."

"Tis no place fer a lass. Especially not one ta distract me boys," he growled.

All of the pain, the fear, and the anger I had been dealing with came rushing in on me. This man had been out of their lives since they were children, and he thought he had more claim to them than I did? "I know who you are, Il Duce," I said. "I know who you are and what you have done in your life. Police records are a wonderful thing to have access too. If you think for one minute that you are going to stop me, think again. I didn't come here for this. I came here for them."

He pulled a gun out from behind his back and pointed it at me. "I make it a point never ta kill lassies or little ones, but I will do whatever I need ta to keep me family safe."

"Those boys of yours are my family," I replied, my anger resounding. I took a step forward so that his gun was pressed against my chest. "And they mean more to me than my own life, so either kill me… or get the fuck out of my way."

I stared him down, almost sure I was about to have a bullet go straight through me. Much to my astonishment, he backed off and put the gun away. "Ye have heart, lassie. Tis not an easy life we livin'."

I shrugged. "I can deal."

He stared at me hard. He finally nodded and disappeared into the fading light. I slipped up to the entrance of the pub and froze in the doorway. I had a clear view to the bar, where a familiar head of messy blonde hair was drinking a pint. A very cute waitress with a shirt that was two sizes to small was stroking his arm. The flirtation appeared to be completely one sided as Connor pulled away from her with a small smile and a shake of his head. The tramp obviously wasn't giving up so easily and changed her game. She leaned across the counter, giving everyone a show of her cleavage as she whispered to him seductively.

Enough was enough.

"Can't take a hint, honey?" I sneered, draping my arm around Connor's shoulders. He coughed and spat out a mouthful of beer. "If it isn't obvious, he's taken so get the fuck away from him."

Thankfully for her, she decided not to push me because I was so ready to beat her black and blue. I was not the normally jealous type, but it wasn't a good idea to try and take away what was mine.

Connor's mouth was hanging open, unsure if he was hallucinating. I laughed and picked up his glass, taking a long drag. Damn, it tasted good, but I knew he would taste better. I closed the distance between us and kissed my man, one hand going around his neck, the other around his waist. He was too stunned to argue and the passion between us flared red hot. His arms went around me, leaving no question as to whether he was happy or not to see me. We explored every inch of each other's mouth, making me gasp when he bit down on my lip.

"My God, lass. Ye're really here!" he cried, jumping up and swinging me around. I laughed and held onto him for dear life. I was dizzy when my feet suddenly hit the floor. "But ye cain't stay."

"Why? Because your dad says so?" His eyes widened. "Thought so. He and I came to an… understanding. I'm not giving you up. I'm not giving Murphy up. I would rather die than be without you."

He choked back a sob and buried his face in my hair. "I love ye, Siobhan. I thought ye would hate us fer leaving. We just wanted ta keep ye safe."

I clung to him. "I'm always going to be safest with you. Now… can we please go home?"

He nodded and threw some money down on the counter for his drink. I gave the waitress the evil eye on the way out, making her and a few others cross themselves. We walked slowly, stopping every now and then to kiss and reassure ourselves that we were finally back together. The house we ended up at was at best, forgettable. The yard needed to be mowed and the one shingle was hanging at an angle, but with a little love and a woman's touch, this place could really be something.

We went around to the back door and he put a finger to his lips. I nodded and followed him in. "Fuck, Murph! Didn't ye git anythin' started for dinner yet?"

I heard banging around in the next room, and the voice made my chest tight. "Do it yerself, ye fuck!" He burst through the door and stopped dead in his tracks when he saw me.

I threw myself at him, knowing he would catch me. If I couldn't breathe with how tight he squeezed, I didn't mind. Connor came up behind me, wrapping his arms around both of us.

"Knew ye'd come. Told 'im ye would. He didn't believe me, but ye came," Murphy said, alternating between kissing me and telling his brother 'I told you so'.

I had never felt anything more right in my entire life. This was where I was meant to be. "I don't know about you two, but I'm starving."

I untangled myself from them and opened the refrigerator. After a quick glance, I smacked myself in the forehead. "Really? Beer and beans in a can?" I grabbed my purse from where it had been flung on the table and pulled out my wallet. "Murphy, I have two bags in a locker at the train station. Here's the key." To Connor, I handed him a wad of money. "I have no idea how much this is, but you need to find a grocery store. Get me the basics: bread, milk, eggs, pasta, tomatoes, spices. You know the drill. Think of us shopping before."

A throat was cleared and I turned around. Their father was towering over us, but he wasn't the head of this household anymore. "And you, Da. Get a pot of coffee going. This place is a pigsty and I'm going to need the caffeine."

I had two swift kisses to the cheek, one from each of my boys and they were gone. This time, though, I knew they would be back.

**Author's Note: While this could be a decent ending to this story, I am contemplating continuing on. There's a life to build in Ireland, but I would like to get the opinions of my readers, followers, and reviewers: would you be interested in more of Siobhan? Let me know in a review or a private message. Thanks and much love!**

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