Page 1 of Harbor Lights (Inishderry Island Romances #3)

Blinking in the hazy autumn sunlight, Siobhán Walsh stepped out onto the wet street in boots that felt too heavy.

The thud of the solid door closing behind her resonated in her skull.

It didn’t help with the headache she’d had almost continuously for the past twelve months.

I’m finally on the right side of the bars.

She dragged her feet toward the bus stop further down the street and dropped onto the bench.

A shuffle through the meager possessions in her pockets produced the disposable plastic money card that would get her to the city.

Her cell phone was dead, of course. She could’ve agreed for her mom to come pick her up, but she didn’t want to share this humiliating day with anyone she cared about.

And if the rumors Bernie had shared were true, she couldn’t afford to be anywhere near her mom.

She could explain later, once she’d put some space between them.

“Ugh.” She banged her head back against the metal of the bus shelter. How had her life gotten into such a mess? All she’d ever tried to do was the right thing.

The bus trundled toward her. Shiv pulled herself to her feet and waved her hand.

She ignored the driver’s judgmental stare as she boarded.

He probably saw plenty of women like her waiting at this stop.

Pale from spending too much time indoors, itching in clothes they weren’t used to wearing, and clutching a shopping bag with their few meagre belongings.

She dropped into a seat, momentarily surprised at the cushioning. It was just a simple bus seat, but it was still the most comfortable thing she’d sat on in twelve months.

She ran her fingers along the rough pile of the fabric and gathered her thoughts.

If Bernie was true to his word, he’d be waiting for her in the city.

The gate money card would get her a phone charger, a change of clothes and hopefully a night in some dive of a hotel.

More importantly, Bernie had promised he’d find the money for an airline ticket to England.

So that she could get out of here, far away from her mom, and lay low for a while.

She was relying on him bringing the bag she’d left behind when the cops had raided her RV.

The vehicle would’ve been quickly claimed by other activists after she was sent to jail, but she hoped someone had kept her documents safe.

Her mom had always drummed into her that it was useful to have all the passports she could qualify for.

She’d thought it a little excessive, but she’d kept every one of them valid in case she ever needed them.

Now, her British passport gave her the means to leave the country indefinitely.

She hunched down in the seat, squeezing her fists until her nails almost drew blood.

How the hell had she ended up so out of options?

Making powerful enemies had been fine when she could stay under the radar, drift from place to place, and pick and choose her fights.

But one incident she couldn’t walk away from had led her to this.

She’d sacrificed a year of her life. There was no going back to her old one.

But if she had to make that decision all over again, even knowing what the last year had brought, she’d still do the same.

The bus pulled up outside a shopping mall.

A digital display flashed between the temperature and the date.

Listlessly, she stared at it. October eighth.

In another version of her life, she’d be celebrating with her friends.

Her mom would’ve baked her a cake. But instead, here she was.

Out of luck and on the run. Happy fortieth birthday, dumbass.