CONTENT WARNING: Although I’ve consulted with many locals, please be mindful, this is a work of fiction. Places, events, and incidents are either the product of my imagination or used in a fictitious manner.
DELIVER US FROM EVIL is a DARK ROMANCE. It contains mature themes that might make some readers uncomfortable.
Godspeed…
“I’m sorry. I don’t have it. But I can pay ye—”
Punch to the jaw.
Kick to the ribs.
Nothing hurts anymore. My mind, as well as my body, is numb to the pain.
This is how I felt ten years ago. However, this is so much worse. Back then, I had hope, but now, I have none. Hope was lost a week ago when Babydoll was taken from me and I killed my best friend in cold blood.
“Puck, I fucked up, so I did. I’m s-sorry. Please don’t kill me.”
Those were Rory’s last words—begging for his life.
But it didn’t make a difference. He’d made his choice as I did mine, and now, I must live with those choices.
It’s because I once cared that I’m here, beating up a kid because he’s hooked on the shite the Kellys sold him. He curls himself into a ball, begging for mercy, but I don’t have any. I am dead inside.
Dropping to one knee, I yank him up by the collar of his shirt, pressing us nose to nose. “I’m not interested in yer excuses. You have twenty-four hours to get the money you owe. If not, I will kill yer family and make ya watch.”
“O-okay,” he whimpers, tears streaming down his face.
I toss him onto the ground and turn away. Bystanders watch on, too afraid to intervene because word on the street is that Puck Kelly is back; and he is out for blood.
Jumping into my truck, I calmly light a cigarette and drive away from the mess I made. It’s just one of many. That’s the consequence of being Sean Kelly’s errand boy.
Clenching the steering wheel, I think how a week can change the course of everything. When I entered Connor’s old factory, I thought I had things sorted. The plan was far from perfect, but I thought if anyone would suffer the consequences, it would be me—I suppose in more ways than one, I have.
I’ve lost my friends—one I murdered; the others see me as nothing but a monster. I’ve pushed my family aside in fear of them getting hurt. And I let down the only person who ever believed in me. Babydoll trusted me, and in return, she paid with her freedom.
I don’t know where she is. I don’t even know if she’s alive. All I know is that my father, Sean Kelly, has the answer, which is why I’m forced to live this way—his prisoner. Until I get those answers, I’m at his mercy, which is why I refuse to show any.
A week ago, I surrendered, something I promised to never do. But never before have I been placed into a position where my hands are tied. There is no compromise. No way out of this because I will do anything to protect Babydoll—even if that means selling my soul to the monster I call father.
I can’t sleep.
I can’t eat.
I feel so hollow inside.
Prison was nothing compared to the imprisonment I feel because being without Babydoll is a life sentence.
I can’t even begin to think about what’s been done to her. My hope is Sean is holding her ransom, knowing I will do anything to keep her safe, knowing I will happily sacrifice my life for hers. But I don’t know anything anymore.
Blind faith is what led me here, and it’s what leads me now as I drive to Sean’s house. I was right. He’s been in Belfast this entire time, watching and waiting like the predator he is.
He was waiting for the perfect opportunity to strike; and that time was when I was released from prison. He set the trap, and I played straight into his hands.
I thought I outsmarted him—but I did everything to benefit him. I killed Brody. I weeded out the traitors. I did everything thinking it would benefit me, but in the end, all it did was make his empire stronger.
Our associates believe the Kellys are back—that Sean and I are working together. They don’t know he holds a loaded gun to my head.
When his modest home comes into view, I swallow down my disgust. I expected he lived somewhere fancy. But that would draw too much attention to him. He wanted to blend in. No one would suspect a vile monster living next door to them in this neighborhood.
The bright red roses he has growing in his front garden have me inhaling sharply. It’s like he planted them as a fuck you to me. Peering down at the rose tattoo on the back of my hand, I’m hit with so many emotions that leave me nostalgic for something that’ll never be again.
My ma is gone. And her rose brooch, the one I gave to Babydoll, that too is now gone. Everyone I’ve ever loved has been taken away, thanks to the bastard who stands on his front lawn, watering the roses like he doesn’t have a care in the world.
I park my truck and exit, clenching my fists when I see Sean. He smiles.
“Bout ye, son? Are ye hungry? I’ve left ya some tea.”
It takes all my willpower not to wrap the hose around his fucking neck and choke the life from him. But I can’t. Until I know where Babydoll is, I’m his fucking dog.
“Don’t call me son,” I firmly reply, walking past him into his gaff. “And I don’t want any fucking dinner.”
When I smell the unmistakable fragrance of a beef stew, I shrug out of my jacket, unbelieving he was actually serious about tea. I shouldn’t be, however. This is all a big game to him. As he sees it, this is his time for payback. I fucked up his plans, and now he intends on returning the favor by fucking up my life.
I reach for the bottle of whiskey and pour myself a large glass. But it’ll never be enough to fill this void.
When Sean enters and sees me drinking, he shakes his head. “I’m worried ’bout yer drinkin’.”
Throwing back the contents, I pour myself another glass. “We’re not doin’ this,” I state, shaking my head, incredulous.
“Doin’ what?” He has the gall to ask.
“Doin’ this concerned father act. In case y’ve forgotten, I’m here ’cause I have no other choice.”
“No one is holdin’ ya prisoner,” he counters, washing his hands in the sink. “Ya can leave any time ya want.”
Gripping the glass in my hand, I measure my breaths before I impale it into his jugular. “I do that and what happens to Cami? Where is she? What have ya done with her?”
Sean continues lathering his hands with soap, ignoring me.
“I’ve done what ya wanted. I promised my loyalty to ya. What else do ya want me to fucking do?” I exclaim, my temper intensifying.
Sean calmly turns off the taps and dries his hands on a tea towel. It’s a floral pattern, for fuck’s sake. This would be laughable if not for the fact he is holding the woman I love prisoner. Or, so I hope.
“Yer word means nothin’ to me, cub. Ya proved that when ya tried to double-cross me. But in time, if you prove yer loyalty, y’ll get what ya want.”
What I want is his head.
“I’ve done ya a favor. In time, y’ll see Rory—”
Slamming my glass onto the kitchen counter, I shatter it in my hand. “Don’tcha ever speak his name. Don’t ever,” I warn dangerously low.