Thy Kingdom Come

I’m angry.

This isn’t an uncommon occurrence for me, but this anger is different. I’m angry with myself. As I hit the punching bag hanging off a rafter in the unused barn, all I can think about is Babydoll and how fucking stupid I am.

I hurt her feelings, and usually, I couldn’t give a fuck, but with her, I do.

She confessed to being worried about me, after I insinuated she came to see me because she wanted to get off.

Groaning, I slam my fists into the bag, wishing I could punch away this guilt in my chest. But it only seems to get worse. With heavy metal blaring in my earbuds, I don’t hear anything until it’s too late. The punching bag swings, revealing my dad standing on the other side of it.

He is the last person I want to see, especially after everything I uncovered two nights ago. He’s here because he wants something as we don’t do small talk. But I don’t take my earbuds out, nor do I stop punching the bag. Instead, I envision it’s his face I’m punching as I belt the red bag.

Sadly, I can’t ignore him forever.

“Ya smart-arse.” I only catch the end of his sentence as he spins me around and snatches the earbuds out from my ears.

Controlling my temper, I glare at him, demanding that if he has something to say, then to do so now.

“I need ya to talk to one of the men. His delivery was short a couple of kilos.”

When he says talk, he means beat him within an inch of his life.

Nodding, I attempt to replace my earbuds, but he slaps my hand away. “Don’tcha fucking touch me, aul’ lad,” I warn, shaking my head.

He merely laughs in response. “Ack, look at ya. Yer growin’ hair on yer bollocks, then?”

“Fuck off,” I spit, not interested in conversing with this knobhead.

His laughter soon dies, and I know things are about to turn dire. “Yer a wee want. A’ll give ya a dig in the bake for that gob on ya.”

Usually, I wouldn’t bother. But not today.

“Ach, ya can try.”

“What did you say to me?”

“You heard me,” I reply, folding my arms across my broad chest. “I know whatcha did.”

“Cool yer jets, lad. What’re ye yappin’ ’bout?”

I didn’t want it to go down this way, but it’s now or never…

“I had a wild craic conversation the other night with some people.”

“Aye? Who was it then?”

“My grandparents,” I reply with no hesitation, deadpa

I take great pleasure in seeing him pale. He soon composes himself, however. “Ack, what did those culchies have to say for themselves?”

“A lot, actually.” I clench my taped fists; certain this conversation will end in bloodshed.

“They told me ya killed Mum,” I reveal, as there is no sugarcoating this. “That she was leavin’ ya. Takin’ me with her. She knew a secret which could ruin the Kellys. What do ya think about that?”

I wait for him to react. To confirm the truth. But he just stands before me, expressionless.

“Are ya deef, or what?” I exclaim, angered he’s standing here, not saying a word.

He shrugs, digging his hands into his pockets. “Dry yer eyes, will ya? Yer pathetic. Always been a mammy’s boy. Things don’t change.”

“That’s it?” I question, disgusted he would respond this way. I shouldn’t expect more from him, but this is the first time I’ve mentioned my grandparents. “That’s all y’ve got to say for yerself?”

“What do ya want me to say, lad? That yer ma was a saint?”

“Ach, shut yer mouth!” I warn, my temper about ready to explode.

“I will not,” he counters. “Yer so desperate for the truth, here it is. Yer ma was not the angel ya think she was. She was out fuckin’ every man in town while I was the one who changed yer nappies. Made sure ya were fed!”

I shake my head, refusing to believe him.

“Aye, yer grandparents were right…she was leavin’ me ’cause I kicked her out. Our marriage was over because the secret…the one she thought she could ruin me with, is that she was fucking Brody Doyle!”

“What?” I stagger back, unable to process what he just said. There’s no way, no way she was sleeping with a Doyle. “I don’t believe ya.”

“Believe whatcha want,” he spits, unmoved. “I never told ya any of this ’cause I didn’t wa

“Know what?” I question, because this is the answer I’ve been searching for my entire life.

Dad runs a hand through his hair, and for the first time in his life, he looks exhausted. “Yer ma was killed because she was fucking Brody Doyle and wanted more. He didn’t. She became a nuisance, and once he had his fun, he disposed of her. It’s that simple. There was no drug war. No war over turf. Yer uncle and I made that up to spare yer feelin’s.”

“Yer a fucking liar!” I scream, tears of anger stinging my eyes.

“I may be a bastard, but a liar, I am not. That’s why I did nothin’. She got what she deserved for fucking my enemy. I never fought for her because she gave me nothin’ to fight for. She made her choice, Puck.”

“Ye’d say anythin’ to save yer arse! She’s not here to defend herself.”

“Ya don’t believe me? Ask yer uncle,” he says, knowing how that’ll hurt me. “The reason I’ve been so tough on ya is ’cause…when I look at ya, all I see is yer ma, and her betrayal.”

My brain ca

“Naw, Puck, that’s the thing…I don’t know that ya are.”

For the first time in my life, Co

It makes sense why he’s been so cruel to me. Sometimes, he looks at me like I’m nothing but a stranger, the enemy, and I understand why that is.

“Who’s my father then?” I ask in vain because I know, I know but I need him to shatter my world beyond repair.

He sighs, appearing beaten as he shakes his head. “I don’t know.”

“Ack, bullshit! Don’t stop now.”

When he refuses to answer me, I advance and shove him in the chest. He staggers back, as this is the first time I’ve laid my hands on him.

“Don’t start somethin’ ya can’t finish,” he cautions, giving me one chance and one chance only to retreat.

But that ship has sailed.

“Let’s finish this then, aul’ lad, once and for all. Tell me who I am.”

It’s a standoff, and only one man will be left standing.

“Are ya away in the head, lad? I told ya…I don’t know!”

Looks like he needs some encouragement.

Without hesitation, I strike out and co

“Let’s try again,” I smartly say, gri

“Ya wee fucker.”

Regardless of the bombshell he just dropped, he doesn’t let me off and comes charging toward me. I get into position, ready to fight until the death. He swings, but I dodge and co

We circle one another, fists raised, ready to tear the other apart—just how I knew it would always end.