The hot sensation and the drip…drip…drip onto the counter confirms I’ve cut my hand, but the blood is a reminder I’m still alive.
“He was a traitor, Puck,” he says, not knowing when to shut his mouth. “He was the one who betrayed ye. He was given a choice. I never forced his hand. Just how no one forced yours when ya shot him right between the eyes.”
“Please don’t kill me.”
Rory’s words haunt me every single day. When I try to sleep, those words rob me of any comfort because I don’t deserve any. I killed my best friend in cold blood. He was unarmed, and I fucking shot him like a dog.
I am a fucking murderer. Aye, I’ve killed before, but Rory’s death is the only one for which I have any remorse.
“Y’ll see I’m not the enemy here,” he says, which has a crazed laugh leaving me.
“That’s all I fucking see,” I reply, reaching for the tea towel and wrapping it around my hand. “What the fuck is wrong with ya? We are not friends. We are enemies. And I would happily use yer wee spatula over there to carve out yer tongue.”
I understand he wants to appear like every Joe Bloggs, but his kitchen looks like something out of an Ulster Tatler Interiors magazine. It sickens me.
His mouth twitches. He finds this fucking hilarious. “I understand yer mad. But we wouldn’t be here if ya didn’t try to kill me every chance ya got.”
“You killed my ma,” I snarl, eyeing him fiercely. “And Connor. Ya wanted to steal my legacy. I spent ten years in prison because of ye. Ya got Ethan hooked on drugs. Ya beat up Hannah. Ya kidnapped Eva and Ethan. And y’ve got my fucking girl.
“Of course, I want to kill ya. Are ye fucking thick?”
Sean nods, accepting my slurs because he can’t deny them. “In time—”
“Say in time once more, I fucking dare ya,” I interrupt, jaw clenched.
“In time, ye will—”
However, he doesn’t get a chance to finish his sentence because I elbow him in the face swiftly. His nose cracks, and the noise, it sings to my debauchery, and I can’t stop. Reaching for a silver corkscrew on the bench, I don’t think twice before I jam it into his thigh.
Just as I reach for a pair of scissors, Sean laughs sharply. “She’ll pay for yer temper, Punky. I promise ya that.”
Does this mean she is alive?
All it would take is imbedding these scissors into the side of this throat. Like a warm knife slicing through butter, they would enter easily, and I could end this all. But as we stand in his kitchen in the ultimate standoff, I know he’s not bluffing.
I kill him, and I will never find Babydoll.
With a pained breath, I drop the scissors by my feet, defeated—in every sense of the word.
Sean rips out the corkscrew, tossing it into the sink. He’ll live, sadly. “I want ya to do somethin’ for me,” he says, and I know this isn’t optional. “Seein’ as yer so eager to kill someone. I want ya to kill Liam Doyle.”
I knew it would always come to this.
Sean doesn’t need him anymore. He got what he wanted from him, and as usual, he’s sending someone to do his dirty work. But this work I do not mind.
“I was plannin’ on doin’ that anyway.”
“Grand.” He leans against the counter as his beige pant leg begins to stain red. “But not before the wee party he’s throwin’.”
“What party?”
“With Brody dead, he is desperately tryin’ to get as many men on his side. Powerful men. I want those men on our team. It’s a VIP event, but I’ll make the arrangements to get ya in.”
“This didn’t work for either Brody or you last time, aul’ lad,” I remind him. “This is why we’re here.”
Sean smirks, once again proving he’s thought this through. “Last time, I didn’t have my son on my team. What ya did to Brody…it’s made ye a celebrity. Yer public execution of Ireland and Northern Ireland’s bossman has made you notorious.
“No one will want to fuck with us. They’re afraid of us, and we will use that fear to our advantage.”
If I could take it back, I would.
Killing Brody was supposed to be a calling to Sean, and it was. But it also called to the hundreds of other psychopaths Ireland and Northern Ireland have bred.
“I do this, and I want to see Cami,” I demand, tired of his games.
Sean mulls over my order but shakes his head. “I can’t trust ye, Puck. I’m sorry, lad. The fact I have a hole in my leg ’cause ya stabbed me proves this.”
My anger is so close to boiling point, it’s getting harder and harder to control. “How do I know she’s even alive?”
“I give ya my word that she is,” he affirms, which is the first time he’s done so.
“Yer word means nothin’ to me,” I spit. “I want to see her. I promised I would do what ya wanted. Just let her go. I have nothin’ left. What can I offer her? Ye don’t need her anymore.”
Sean mulls over my comment, watching for any signs of deceit. “Kill Liam, and I’ll give ye what ya want.”
This time, I’m the one who looks at him with watchful eyes. “Y’ll let her go?”
Sean tongues his cheek as he has chosen his words wisely for a reason. “Do what I ask, and I’ll deliver. I promise ya that.”
The way he is avoiding the question makes me nervous. I need to anticipate everything when it comes to Sean, and I wish I could believe he would deliver her alive, but I can’t. He’s given me nothing to tip the scales either way.
“All right. I’ll do what ya want. But if any harm comes to Cami, all bets are off. I will destroy ye. I will find who or what ya love most in this world and make them pay for yer sins.”
He smirks, the sight a diabolical display. “Ya can try, Puck, but I have no ties. I’ve lived a lonely existence for a reason…that’s why I’m stronger than ye. The only person I care for is you…so if yer going to destroy anyone, it’s going to be yerself.”
I always wondered why Sean never got married. Or even had a girlfriend for that fact. Now I know why. He knew emotions are the downfall of any leader. He has been plotting this for years.
“I’m already defeated, Father,” I state, leveling him. “Ya made sure of that when ya destroyed everything, everyone I’ve ever loved.”
“One day, when ya want to listen, I’ll tell ya about yer past. It’s what y’ve fought so hard for, is it not? Ya wanted to know who yer ma was and how she could love a monster like me. By telling ya this, Puck, it’ll help ye understand who ye are.”
I don’t bother replying because he’s baiting me.
Turning my back, I take the whiskey bottle with me as I walk out the door. Once in my truck, I commence the drive home on autopilot. I am so lost right now, I don’t think I’ll ever be found. In the past, I would have spoken to Rory and Cian, who would have helped me see reason.
But I’m truly alone in this.
The castle stands unfinished; a visualization of what could be. As I ascend the drive and park in front of my gaff, I notice the kitchen light is on.
Someone is in my home.
Reaching for my gun from the console, I exit the truck with caution. I doubt an enemy would announce their presence, but stranger things have happened, like Rory betraying me right in this very spot. I open the front door, which is unlocked, and with my gun raised, I enter.