Thy Kingdom Come

“And then what? You were a little vague on the details.”

“Ach, bucko, why’re ye askin’ so many questions? Anyone would think ya were nervous.”

Something is different about Liam. His usual cockiness is replaced with urgency. Something is wrong.

“Nope, what would I have to be nervous about?” I ask, watching Liam closely.

He reaches into his pocket, while I’m ready to reach for my gun. But when he lights a cigarette, I tell myself to calm the fuck down.

Taking his time, he shrugs. “Don’t know…maybe ’cause yer not who ye say y’are.”

Fuck…

The van door opens and out steps a man who is about to change the course of everything.

Here stands Brody Doyle—the fucker who was involved with Ma and could be my father. When I see him, I’m instantly hit with the air of authority all men in power hold. Co

Unlike Co

“Hello, son.”

Does he mean that term literally?

These are just tricks men like him play. I know better. I need to get it together.

“What’s up?” I casually say with a wave. The lorry will be here soon. I just need to stall them until then.

“Nice to finally meet ya.” His accent is smooth, refined.

He offers his hand, and the moment we shake, rage overtakes me.

“You too. You’re Liam’s father? I recognize your voice,” I say, playing coy. But we both know he didn’t come up the Lagan in a bubble.

“I admire yer tenacity, lad, but let’s stop the bullshit.”

“I’m sorry?”

Four minutes…

Brody smiles, but there is nothing pleasant about the gesture. “I know you, do I not?”

“Nope. Don’t think so,” I reply, not disguising my a

Brody examines me. I wonder what he sees. “We’ve got a lot to talk about. But I ca

“Who do you think I am then?” I pose, as I want to uncover how much he actually knows.

Liam’s footsteps a

“I don’t think, lad, I know yer a Kelly. Puck Kelly. I know yer the one who killed my brother and my son. I know ye were the one who painted their faces like ya paint yers. They were at fault for trustin’ ya. They knew better. So does Liam.”

Three minutes and thirty seconds…

“You’re mistaken,” I press, continuing to stall. “I don’t know who told you all this, but they’re wrong.”

Brody nods, but he doesn’t buy it. “Ach, I’m sorry then. We must have got our wires crossed,” he says, gesturing with his chin toward the van.

The door opens, and the person who is shoved out of the van has me questioning everything. But I don’t allow my emotions to betray me. I can’t.

Babydoll is escorted over to Brody by some arsehole. Her chin is downcast. She can’t even look at me. Is she his prisoner? Has he captured her as he did with Cian? I don’t understand.

“Don’t be afraid,” Brody soothes Babydoll who is trying her hardest to suppress her sniffles. “If what ye say is true and ya don’t know him, then that’s my mistake. But if yer lyin’—”

He grabs a hold of Babydoll’s ponytail and tugs her head back.

I instantly advance. “Let her go.”

Brody smirks, knowing he’s won. “Ye don’t know him, do ye?”

Babydoll holds her ground. “No, I do not.” She doesn’t disguise her accent, so Brody knows she’s American.

“All right, my mistake then,” he says, but he doesn’t believe her. “If ya don’t know him, then it wouldn’t bother ye if I killed him in front of ye. Or maybe I should make him watch me kill you. Get on yer knees.”

He lets Babydoll go, and she stumbles, attempting to find her footing. The fucker behind her forces her to her knees as she fights him savagely. Brody reaches into his holster and produces a gun.

“I’m sorry,” she mouths to me, tears ru

But it doesn’t end this way for us.

Reaching for my gun with speed, I point it at Brody, who laughs animatedly. The time has come for this to end once and for all.

“Let her go, ya fucker,” I say, Mike from America long gone. “Aye, I’m Puck Kelly, and I killed yer brother and son. I would do it again given half the chance.”

Babydoll shakes her head, squeezing her eyes shut.

“Y’ll need to give me a minute because I’ve been dreamin’ of this day,” Brody says, unable to contain his excitement. “Y’ve caused so much trouble, lad.”

“Cheers, thank you,” I sarcastically reply. “Get up, Babydoll.”

Babydoll’s lower lip trembles as she comes to a cautious stand. I expect her to come over to me, but she doesn’t. She stands by Brody.

“Babydoll?” he questions, laughing.

I never take my gun off Brody, but that doesn’t bother him.

“I never thought this would work.”

“What would?” I question.

“This,” Brody replies, gesturing with his gun between Babydoll and me.

“Spare me the fuckin’ theatrics,” I snap, not interested in playing his games.

“Punky, don’t—” Babydoll warns, fresh tears rolling down her cheeks.

“It’s too late for that. He deserves to know. Should I tell him? Or do you want to?”

I beg of her to explain what he’s talking about, but all she does is look at me with nothing but desperation. “I’m sorry. Please forgive…me.”

I lower my gun, suddenly realizing it’ll do no good because I’m in this alone. No one here is a friend; they’re all my foes.

“Did ye really kill my ma?” I ask Brody, peeling back the layers and starting at where it all began.

“Aye, I did,” he affirms with a slow nod as he puts away his gun. “Ye know why?”

I ignore his question because there is something else I need to expose first. “Who else? There were three men. I know one of them was yer brother. Who was the other man?”

Brody smiles, as if reliving the memory of raping and killing my mum is one to be happy about. “Someone very close to home, Puck. He’s the reason she died.”

“Who?” I ask between clenched teeth.

“I don’t want to cause any trouble.”

Advancing, I press the gun to the middle of Brody’s forehead. “Too late for that. Tell me.”

He knows I won’t shoot, not until I get the answers I seek. The messed-up thing is that he’s the one person who can tell me the truth and I’d believe him because he has no reason to lie.

“It was Co

“Ya lie,” I gasp, my grip on the gun tightening. Not yet, I tell myself. His time is coming.

“Ach, naw, I tell ye the truth. Co

I don’t believe him. It can’t be true. But he knows about someone unlocking the wardrobe, how that act seemed so personal.

“Cara was a beautiful woman. But she knew too much. She was nosy and smart, just like you. I knew sooner or later ye’d find out what we did, which is why I needed to get to yer first.”

“What d’ye mean?” I’m hardly holding it together.

“The Kellys and the Doyles, we’re private people. I hadn’t seen ya since ye were a wain. I didn’t know whatcha looked like and I needed to.”