Thy Kingdom Come

Nothing about her makes any sense and I know she is trouble, but that just has me wanting her all the more.

I have no problems touching her. I find myself reaching out for her without thought. That’s something that’s never happened before. She’s toxic, I can feel it in my bones, but the mystery of who she is and why I’m drawn to her outweigh good sense.

I will get to the bottom of this, one way or another, and then the question is, what will I do?

But all of that can wait when the door opens and Nolen Ryan’s silhouette is outlined by the moon.

“Punky?” he questions, clearly shook I’m here and not my da.

“What’s the craic, Nolen?”

He pauses in the doorway, but enters as he knows he can willingly do so—or I’ll force him to. The gun in the small of my back will aid me if need be.

The single light bulb hanging from the banjaxed ceiling provides some light, but I don’t need it to know that Nolen is scared. He knows what I can do. He’s seen it. But he never thought I’d do those unspeakable things to him.

“Everythin’ all right then?” he nervously asks, taking a juke at our mingin’ surroundings.

Curling my lip, I shrug casually. “I don’t know. Is it?”

The room is filled with an uncomfortable tension, and as much as I don’t want to hurt Nolen, he can’t leave here alive.

With a sigh, I reach into my backpack and produce the damning piece of evidence—his Catholic Bible.

The moment he sees what I’m holding, he drops to his knees and interlaces his hands. “Please, naw. It’s not what ya think.”

“No?” I counter, flicking through the pages in disgust. “So, this isn’t yer Bible?”

When he lowers his chin, whimpering, I lose patience and slam the book against his cheek. His head snaps to the left.

“I’ll not tell ya again.”

“Please, let me go. Y’ll never see me again,” he begs, lifting his chin and the full moon catches the tears in his eyes.

“Aye, that’s where yer right. I won’t see ya ’cause y’ll be dead.”

“Oh, shite,” he cries, shaking his head frantically. “Punky, I’ve a family.”

If this is supposed to move me, Nolen needs to try another tactic because all he’s doing is boring me with his excuses.

“So did I,” I reveal, the Bible clenched in my hand. “Until your kind decided to kill her. I can’t let ya live, Nolen. Ya know that. Yer a traitor. Yer a fucking Catholic. How do I know yer not involved with the Doyles?”

“I would never!” he gasps, pleading I believe him.

“How can I believe ya? Ya see the position y’ve put me in? I let ya go, how do I know yer not go

“I’m not messed up with Brody Doyle!” he exclaims, the white of his eyes almost glowing under the light. “I swear down. I fucked up, so I did. I’m sorry. But my wife, she’s Catholic. What was I supposed to do? I’ve not told anyone because I knew what would happen.

“Please don’t kill me. I know yer friends with Orla. Think of her.”

“You should have thought of her,” I spit, not appreciating him guilt tripping me. “What did ye think was go

“This hatred, Puck, this isn’t you. It’s because of yer da that ye think like this. Yer a good lad. Ya can’t hate someone because of their religion. This isn’t the Middle Ages anymore.”

Tipping my face to the ceiling, I inhale, needing a minute. “In the name of their God, they slaughtered my ma. So I can hate whoever I want. Do I hate Catholics? Aye, and the reason is, all Doyles are Catholics. To me, the Doyle name is what I have most issues with. Their religion is secondary.”

It’s been forced onto me that I was to hate Catholics. They were the enemy. And after my hostile experiences with every Catholic I’ve met, how could I not? But Nolen is right.

A small part of me agrees with him. To hate someone because of their beliefs is ridiculous. Would I go out and harm an i

The problem with Nolen is that he can’t be trusted, religion aside. He lied because he knew if he told us the truth, there was no way he would work for the Kellys. He should have found a job doing something else because now, he’s going to find out what happens to liars firsthand.

“I understand that, but we’ve got nothin’ to do with the Doyles. Please, lad, let me go. Yer a good—” Before he can finish, I whack his cheek with the Bible once again.

He moans, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth.

“Why’d ya have to lie?” I question, tossing the Bible at Nolen. “Pick it up. I want ya to read me yer favorite passage.”

“Wh-what?” he stutters, eyes wide.

“Read to me,” I repeat, grabbing an aul’ wooden chair and sitting on it backward.

Nolen cops on that I’m serious and opens the Bible, unable to turn the pages because his hands are trembling so badly. He licks his finger and slowly peruses through the passages until he stops. He raises his eyes and meets mine.

“For You have armed me with strength for the battle; You have subdued under me those who rose up against me. You have also given me the necks of my enemies, so that I destroyed those who hate me.”

With a slanted smirk, I clap slowly. “Ye wee fucker. Ya think yer fu

By reading this passage, he’s pretty much telling me to go fuck myself.

“Yer go

I respect Nolen for accepting his fate, instead of groveling like a wee pussy. But that doesn’t change what I’m about to do.

Coming to a stand, I look down at the man whose life I’m about to end. I think about how my actions will impact the lives of his family and friends. I think about Orla and how when I see her next, I’ll know something that she never will.

I’ll know that I killed her father.

“Make the right choice, Puck. Yer ma—”

The moment Nolen attempts to use my ma as collateral, something inside me snaps. He didn’t know her. He has no right to speak her name. With a roundhouse kick, I co

“Don’t you dare speak her name!” I exclaim, lifting Nolen up by the lapels of his shirt.

I headbutt him, but don’t let go. His head snaps back with an awful crack, and his body goes limp. He doesn’t put up a fight as I toss his arse into the chair. He flops forward, his chin drooping to his chest. He’s pathetic.

“Fight me!” I demand, yanking his head back by his snarled hair.

“Naw,” he breathlessly replies, looking up at me, refusing to cower. “Ya wa

His refusal angers me and I punch him in the face, breaking his nose.

Blood splatters onto the ground, but it doesn’t give me the satisfaction it should. I punch him in the ribs, a pained oof escaping him, yet he still doesn’t fight back.

I’ve had no issues with violence in the past, so why is this time different? It’s then I realize it’s because the others, they deserved it. Nolen is a traitor and a liar, aye, but does that warrant his death?

As he helplessly slumps in the chair, bloody and struggling to breathe, I know the answer is no.

With a roar, I fist my hair and begin to pace. I need to get out of my head and remember what Nolen is. Not all Catholics are in cahoots with the Doyles, but Nolen is involved in illegal dealings, which means he isn’t a Catholic minding his business.