Thy Kingdom Come

This is a dangerous game; one I have to lose.

“Where were ya comin’ from the other night? I went back to find ya, but there wasn’t a gaff for miles.”

And this is my cue to leave.

“Good talk, but I’ve got to go. I gave back what’s yours, so let’s never do this again.” Sarcasm is my security blanket. It’s how I cope with awkward situations—like right now.

I yank out of his hold, making a beeline for the front door, but Punky quickly sidesteps to block my exit. “What’s the rush, love?” he says with a lopsided grin. “I was just gettin’ to know ya.”

“Yeah, well, I have no interest in knowing you. So please let me leave.” I attempt to push past him, but he doesn’t budge.

“Ack, now yer just hurtin’ my feelings. Yer the one who broke into my gaff.”

“I did no such thing,” I argue, offended. “You really should lock your door.”

Punky appears taken aback by my revelation.

“Your brother and sister told me you lived out here. So don’t worry, I’m not stalking you. I’m sure you have enough of those—stalkers, I mean.” It’s on the tip of my tongue to ask who Amber is, but I don’t. I’m already in too deep.

Punky bursts into husky laughter, surprising me. “I don’t know about that. I don’t have time for such nonsense.”

“But you surely have enough time to be a bloody arsehole!” I spit before I can stop myself.

I expect Punky to be tired of my insolence by now and throw me out, but he does nothing of the sort.

“Aye, that I am, but at least ya know. I don’t know what to be expectin’ with ye. Ya steal from me, with no explanation, and then ya come into my home, like everythin’ is going to be sound. What do ya want from me?”

And this is the reason I shouldn’t have come.

Punky is smart, and he will eventually figure out why I’m here. That’s a given. What remains unknown is what he will do when he does.

“Nothing,” I reply, and I mean it.

“I don’t believe ya,” he rebukes calmly. “I think yer here for a reason. I just haven’t figured out what that reason is.”

The reddening of my cheeks betrays my horror because if he continues to dig, I wonder what he’ll find.

“Well, good luck with that. Goodbye, Puck Kelly.” I push past him, and this time, he lets me leave. With my back turned, hand poised on the door handle, Punky makes it clear, however, that I can’t run forever.

“But I will, Babydoll. I promise ya that.”

His cautioning isn’t meant to scare, but rather, warn me of what’s ahead.

Needing to get out of here before I crumple, I quickly open the door and walk briskly down the driveway with Punky’s warning sounding loudly in my ears.

I am so fucked.