Who I see has me lowering my gun with a sigh. “What are ya doing here?”
Hannah stands from the couch, wringing her hands in front of her. “If I’d called, would ya have let me in?”
She has a point.
Closing the door, I ignore her and walk into the kitchen. Empty whiskey bottles are scattered on the counter, and I finished the one I snared from Sean’s on the drive here, so I open the freezer and retrieve a bottle of vodka.
“You shouldn’t be here. Go home.”
The bluntness to my tone has Hannah flinching, but she doesn’t back down. “Please don’t shut me out, Punky. We’re all hurtin’ too. It was Rory’s funeral today.”
Her admission has me opening the vodka bottle and drawing it to my lips.
“It was a lovely service. Lots of people paid their respects.”
“Closed casket, I presume?” I say, savoring the burn of the vodka as it hits my empty stomach.
Cian is the only one who knows what really happened to Rory. Sean wasn’t lying when he said the peelers are on his side. Constable Shane Moore is just as crooked as his father was. He was the one who labeled Rory’s death as a robbery gone wrong.
The reporters bought it because of the ransacked state of Rory’s flat.
But those closest to Rory know the truth. As do those who are, or were, closest to me. They know I murdered my best friend in cold blood.
“Don’t be like that,” Hannah scolds, horrified I would be making jokes. “Yer best mate is dead. Y’ve got to be feelin’ somethin’.”
“The only thing I’m feelin’ is annoyed that yer here, Hannah. Don’t ya have friends ye can annoy?”
“Puck,” she gasps, taking a step back. “Why are ye being so mean?”
“If ya don’t like it here, then ye can always leave,” I say, wiping the spilled vodka from my lips with the back of my hand. “I’d prefer it.”
“I don’t know what’s wrong, but I know this is not you. What happened to Cami? We have a right to know.”
No one knows that Rory was the one who betrayed us. All they know is that he took Babydoll away, saying he was coming to meet me, but neither returned.
No one questioned him, and why would they? They trusted him. We all did.
“Eva wants to know what happened to her sister,” Hannah says, never giving up. Her tenacity is what set me free. I wish she’d left me to rot. “Stop treatin’ us like wee kids!”
“Ya are wee kids,” I correct, angered they got involved in the first place. “Go home, Hannah. I want to be alone.”
She stands her ground. “That’s all y’ll be Puck if ya continue pushin’ us away. Yer being a martyr, and I know that’s because ye think we’re in danger. I’ll call on ye tomorrow.”
There’s no point arguing because Hannah is as stubborn as me.
The moment she leaves, I brace the bench and inhale sharply. Hannah won’t give up, which is why I reach into my pocket for my mobile. I dial Fiona.
“What do you want?”
“I want ya to keep yer daughter away from me,” I state bluntly. The sharp intake of breath hints I’ve caught Fiona off guard. “She isn’t welcome here anymore.”
“All right then. I’ll let her know,” Fiona finally says when she can find her voice.
“Cheers, thanks for that.” I hang up, not interested in small talk.
It’s a long shot, but I have to try something. I won’t be responsible for yet another person being hurt. So many people have been brought into this mess, trusting that I knew what the fuck I was doing. But I didn’t. I still don’t.
My mobile chimes, and when I see a text message from Ron Brady, I sigh.
Ron proved to be a loyal ally. He, Logan, and Ronan did. But I have nothing to offer them. They were fighting for a new Belfast, but I don’t even know what that is anymore. I’m not the leader for them.
I don’t read the message. Instead, I decide to shower and attempt to sleep.
The moment I walk into my bedroom, I’m hit with a flood of memories. This place was a home because of the people inside it. But alone, it’s just an empty shell of what it once was.
With Cami in my bed, I believed I was capable of anything. She was my reason to go on. Without her, the fight in me is slowly dying. I know those looking on want me to fight, but I’ve been fighting my entire life.
I am so fucking tired.
There is only so much a man can take before he reaches his breaking point. And this is what Sean wanted.
He’s pushed me time and time again, building me up and giving me hope, only to tear me back down. He knew taking Cami would be my tipping point, and by using Rory to implement his plan…I’m broken.
Turning the taps on in the shower, I strip off and step under the spray, not bothering to adjust the temperature. Bracing my hands to the tiles, I bow my head, hoping the scorching water will wash away my sins.
It doesn’t, and I know that’s because the worst is yet to come.
Thanks to yet another sleepless night, I’m drinking my third coffee, and it’s not even eight o’clock. This is my life now, however.
I simply function on autopilot.
The knock on the door puts me on edge because lately, I don’t know who to expect on my doorstep. With a gun concealed in the small of my back, I open the door, but I won’t need it because it’s Darcy.
She smiles, but it’s strained because, just like everyone else, she too is in the dark about what happened that night, the night she was here and oblivious to Rory’s plans.
“Morning, Puck,” she says. “I’m sorry to just pop round without calling first, but I have the new will for ye to sign.”
Opening the door wider, I step aside, granting her permission to enter.
She enters, casually looking around my gaff, which is a shambles, but doesn’t comment on its boggin’ state. She places her leather briefcase on the kitchen bench and opens it, retrieving a document.
“I just need ye to sign here,” she instructs, her hands shaking as she places the paperwork in front of me.
I hate that she’s frightened of me, but I’m the one who’s shut everyone out. No one knows what to expect anymore.
“I changed everything, as per yer instructions. By signing this, yer giving everything to Sean.” She looks at me, ensuring this is what I really want. There is no turning back once I sign on the dotted line.
This was another one of Sean’s power play moves. Everything Connor left me, he wants. The money, the castle, the factory—all of it. He wants to ensure I know he owns me. But I can never forget.
Taking the pen from her, I’m about to sign without delay, because I’ll happily give Sean my possessions if it brings me one step closer to finding Babydoll, but Darcy slams her hand over the page.
“Puck, don’t do this,” she pleads, surprising me. “There’s got to be another way. I don’t know what he’s done, but please don’t sign this.”
“Are ye speaking as my lawyer or as my friend?”
“I’m yer friend first and foremost,” she says. “Let me help ya. My father can—”
But I shake my head. “Enough people have stuck their necks out for me, Darcy. I won’t allow it. This is what I want.”