by Monica James
With a sigh, I open the door and get out of the car, but jump back when Rory takes off so quickly, gravel kicks up in his haste. He speeds down the driveway, almost taking out an oncoming car as he pulls out onto the road.
I’m utterly defeated when I walk toward Punky’s house, but the scaffolding around the castle is a wonderful sight. Witnessing it deteriorate with time was a hard pill to swallow. It was like it didn’t want to stand without Punky either.
When I arrive at Punky’s house, I brace myself for the worst, but when I see Hannah sitting on the couch, beaten and bloody, I realize I haven’t braced myself for jack shit.
Punky sits beside her, legs splayed and head cradled in his hands. When he hears me enter, he lifts his chin. He doesn’t need to say it—this is bad.
“I’m sorry,” Hannah sobs when she sees me. “I tried to stop them.”
“Shh,” I say, walking to the couch and dropping to my knees in front of her. “It’s okay. I know you did.”
“She’s with Ethan,” Hannah says, looking at me through one eye as the other is closed over.
Taking her hands in mine, I try my best to smile. “She’ll be fine.”
My voice is alien as I know nothing will be fine ever again.
“Let me help clean you up.” I stand and offer her my hand.
Hannah nods and slowly rises, flinching when she stands. But the fighter in her won’t allow her to concede defeat. We take our time, hobbling toward the bathroom. Cian is on the phone while Punky merely stares into thin air.
He needs time to process this. We all do. But seeing him this way just cements the shitshow headed our way.
I close the bathroom door, giving us some privacy.
Hannah tries to take off her T-shirt but cringes in pain.
“Here, let me.”
She nods.
Carefully, I remove her bloody clothes, holding back my vomit when I see the full extent of her injuries. Her small, fragile body is beaten black and blue.
“Hannah, you need to go to the hospital.”
“Naw, I can’t. They’ll call Mum.”
And this is why she hasn’t called the police.
She knows contacting the authorities will bring about questions we can’t answer. Sean knew this as well.
“I just want a bath,” she says, wrapping her arms around herself.
I do as she asks and run her a hot bath. Once I’ve helped her into the water, I dip the sponge into the bath and gently wash her face. She whimpers as her cuts are deep.
“What happened? If you’re not comfortable talking about it, I understand.”
She takes her time, peering into the bloody water as if it’ll give her the answers. “We heard gunshots, and before I had a chance to grab the gun Punky left for me, three men in balaclavas broke down the door. Ethan tried to protect us, but he’s still so weak.
“They knocked him out so he couldn’t fight. Eva and I, we fought them, I swear it.”
“I know that you did,” I say, not wanting her to feel guilty for surviving.
“They beat us both. I thought that would be enough. But then Uncle Sean called off his dogs. He didn’t get his hands dirty. Typical, him allowin’ others to do his dirty work. He said that I was to tell Punky to back down, or he would make them pay.
“I didn’t know what he meant until they took Eva and Ethan. Uncle Sean said as long as we played by his rules, no harm would come to them. And then he…then he told me to say hello to Punky from him, before knockin’ me out cold.”
I swallow down my disgust and take a minute to digest what Hannah just shared.
“I’m sorry, Cami. I fucked up, so I did. I never meant for anyone to get hurt. I just wanted to help Ethan.” She covers her face, sobbing into her palms.
“Hey, there’s nothing for you to be sorry for.” I console her, rubbing her back because this isn’t her fault. “We’ll find them. I know my sister. She won’t give up, and neither will Ethan.”
“What i-if Ethan falls for Uncle Sean’s b-bullshit again. I just go-got him ba-back.”
“Shh, don’t think that way.” I try my best to comfort her, but she’s scarred. Not just on the outside but on the inside as well.
She leans into my touch, sobbing hysterically. I don’t speak. I let her get it all out because she can’t keep this bottled up.
After a while, her cries become sporadic sniffles, then she grows quiet, almost in a hypnotic trance.
She’s exhausted and emotionally spent, so once she’s clean, I dry her off, then reach for Punky’s black T-shirt hanging off the back of the door. I slip it over her head and search the drawers for some first aid supplies. I disinfect the wounds on her face and arms, but she needs a lot more than that.
She needs to see a doctor.
I open the door and lead her into Punky’s bedroom. Pulling back the blankets on the bed, I gently encourage her to lie down. She settles in low, and when I tuck her in, my heart weeps.
She looks so young and innocent. But that didn’t make a difference to her own flesh and blood.
“Get some rest, Hannah. I’ll just be outside this door if you need me.”
Her eyes droop closed as exhaustion wins out.
Brushing her hair from her brow, I place a gentle kiss on her forehead, promising those who did this to her will pay. She’s passed out before I’m out the door.
I enter the living room, but no one is here.
I soon uncover where Punky and Cian are when I hear the unmissable sound of someone begging for their life as they’re getting the shit kicked out of them.
Rushing out the door, I stop dead in my tracks when I see a man on his knees, beaten and bloody, pleading Punky doesn’t kill him.
“I’m sorry,” he weeps, interlacing his hands in mercy as Punky stands above him, fists clenched. “We were ambushed. I promise ya. I’m not workin’ with Sean.”
Punky snarls before kneeing him under the chin.
The man falls onto his back with a thud, attempting to escape, but he’s not going anywhere. Punky grabs him by the feet and drags him forward.
“Fool me once, Ronan,” he spits. “But fool me twice. How did he know I wasn’t here?”
In response, he stomps on Ronan’s knee, and from the pained wail which leaves Ronan, I dare say Punky just broke bone.
“I don’t know. I swear it!” he exclaims. “If I was workin’ with him, why am I shot? Bleedin’ to death in yer fucking garden! Why would I come crawlin’ back here to tell ya the truth if I betrayed ye?”
Cian turns away, unable to witness his friend show no mercy because we both know that no matter what Ronan says, he’s dead.
“I tried to stop them, but Sean knew ya wouldn’t be here. Someone tipped him off. Whoever ya think are yer friends, yer wrong. Ya can’t trust anyone.”
“Aye, I know that now. I shouldn’t have trusted you.”
“Punky, naw, please, no.” Ronan sobs as Punky places a gun to his temple.
But his pleas don’t affect Punky in the slightest. A look of utter emptiness is stamped on Punky’s face, and I know that numbness will just continue to grow if he takes this man’s life.
“Punky, don’t,” I say softly. “You’ve got no proof. Don’t be like him. Be the man Connor taught you to be.”
Punky inhales sharply, turning his cheek and squeezing his eyes shut. “Go inside, Cami.”
“No, I will not,” I gently argue, taking cautious steps toward him. “You don’t have to do this. Deep down, you know this is wrong.”
“I don’t know anythin’,” he spits, his pain palpable.
Cian nods, encouraging me to help Punky see the light because right now, he is lost to the darkness.
“You know that I love you,” I say, taking my time as I approach him. “You know that this isn’t your fault.”
“Bullshit!” he shouts, turning around to face me. “Yer sister and Ethan are gone because of me. Hannah was beaten within an inch of her life because of me! My need
for vengeance once again got people hurt. Connor was right—emotions make ya weak.
“Ya should run now when y’ve got the chance,” he says, eyes filled with tears. “People I love tend to die as yer collateral.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” I affirm, gripping the gun and placing it over my heart. “Where you go, I go, and if you’re headed into hell, then take me with you because living without you will be far worse than any hell on earth.”
“Camilla, don’t say things I don’t deserve. Yer sister is in danger because of me.”
“Yes, she is, but never forget that she’s my sister. My blood runs through her veins, and you can bet she will fight with everything that she’s got. He won’t kill her because he needs her. Like you said, the people you love are collateral.
“He will use her and Ethan as pawns to get what he wants. As long as he needs them, they’re safe. We just need to come up with a plan.”
Punky’s grip on the gun wavers, and I gently lower it, removing it from his hands.
Tossing it aside, I step forward and cup his cheek tenderly. He leans into my touch, broken and defeated in ways I’ve never seen before.
“I’m sorry I got youse involved in this. If anythin’ happens to Eva…”
I don’t let him finish that sentence because I don’t want to hear it. Eva will be okay. She has to be.
With a sigh, Punky accepts defeat, but that doesn’t make him a failure. No, he is victorious in every sense of the word.
“Take him to the hospital,” he says to Cian, eyes still locked with mine.
“Thank you, Puck,” Ronan cries, coming to a shaky stand. “I heard them say they were headed to the factory. I don’t know where that is, though.”
Punky nods but doesn’t seem too enthused by the news as he knows he’s at Sean’s mercy.
Cian helps Ronan as he can’t stand on his own, and they make their way toward Punky’s truck. Only when they’re gone does Punky breathe again.
He pulls out of the embrace and peers into the night sky. “Ronan is right. Sean was tipped off. He knew the kids would be all alone and vulnerable here. He let me kill Brody because I just eliminated the competition for him.
“I did his dirty work, thinkin’ I was in control, but I was wrong. Loyalties may be divided, but Sean has power in the right places. He’s been watchin’ and waitin’, and it’s only a matter of time now.”
A shiver rocks my body at his ominous words. “What do we do now?”
“Now, we wait for him to make his demands. He knows I’ll agree to whatever he proposes. I won’t allow more lives to be destroyed because of me.”
We’re stuck between a rock and a hard place because we’re gambling with Ethan’s and Eva’s lives. Sean took them instead of Hannah because he knew taking my sister would just be extra insurance for him.
“Even if his proposal involves your death?” I question quietly, unable to conceal my fear.
With a sigh, Punky nods. “Aye, I’ll accept it.”
I wrap my arms around myself, his words having me trembling in fear. “Well, I don’t accept it. There’s got to be another way.”
Punky merely smiles weakly in response.
Before I have a chance to demand he fight, headlights light up the driveway. He instantly shields me with his body as he places me behind his back.
“Is it the police?” I ask, unsure who would be here at such an early hour. I doubt the enemy would announce their arrival this way.
Punky stares into the distance, and when he sees who it is, he curses under his breath. “No, worse.”
Worse than the police?
I understand what he means when the car comes to a screeching halt, and Fiona comes charging out of the driver’s side, not bothering to switch off the engine.
“Where is she?” she screams hysterically. This will not end well.
“Fiona—”
She doesn’t give Punky time to explain before she slaps him across the cheek. “You bastard! Ye good for nothin’ arsehole! What did you do to my daughter?”
She pounds her fists against his chest, cursing and calling him every name under the sun. He doesn’t fight back. He accepts her abuse because I know he believes he deserves it.
“She’s inside sleepin’,” he says blankly. “Ethan is gone.”
“No!” she screams over and over again. “This is your fault! All of this is yer fault. Everythin’ ya touch turns to shite! I hate ya! I fuckin’ hate ye!”
She slaps him again, and like before, he doesn’t retaliate. He merely stands still, a broken statue, dead inside.
“Ya took Connor away from me, and now yer takin’ my wains. Ye won’t be happy until they’re all dead.”
She goes to slap him again, but I seize her wrist midair. I’ve had enough. “You’ve made your point, Fiona.”
Ripping from my hold, she snarls, primed on hitting me.
“Go ahead. I dare you,” I challenge her because, unlike Punky, I’ll hit back.
She reads my threat for what it is and steps back. “You’re next,” she sneers. “Mark my words. That boy is cursed.”
“Oh, shut up,” I snap, not interested in her bullshit. “It’s a little too late to play concerned mother now. Have you ever wondered why Hannah has no worry for her safety when it comes to Puck? Because he was there for her when you weren’t.
“He went to prison to protect them, and all you cared about was finding another man to fill Connor’s shoes because you’re so afraid of being alone. You’re pathetic.”
“He’s got you fooled too then,” she says, shaking her head in pity.
But she can shove her pity right up her arrogant ass. “I’m not fooled. I see Puck for who he is. I always have. Too bad you never did. You married your dead best friend’s husband before she was dead and buried. The least you could have done was look after her son.
“But you’re so fucking selfish, and now, the karma train is coming.”
She blinks once, horrified at my words.
“Well, choo fucking choo.”
Her mouth gapes open as she doesn’t know what to say. I’ve never spoken to her this way before. Even when Hannah would come to me with stories of her negligent mother growing up, I always kept the peace.
But no more.
“Hannah is sleeping, and she will not be disturbed. You can come back tomorrow.”
“How dare you,” Fiona says, her face twisting into a scowl. “She’s my daughter.”
“When it suits you,” I reply. “She wasn’t your daughter when you took off with what’s-his-name for three weeks and left her and Ethan alone. They were ten, in case you’ve forgotten. Amber and I were the ones who were their mothers then.”
Fiona’s fight soon dies because she knows this example is one of many. “I’ll be back tomorrow.”
She goes to turn, but Punky stops her as he says, “I don’t know who told ya Hannah was here, but yer in danger now. Be careful.”
She snickers, shaking her head as she gets into her car and speeds off. We both watch her dramatic exit, unmoved by her theatrics.
“Sean no doubt was the one who told her,” Punky says. “He’s movin’ in because it’s just him and me now.”
The defeat in his voice kills me.
“Then we need to be ready.”
He looks at me and nods. “Everyone is the enemy.”
And he’s right.
Killing my father changed everything, but just not in the way we anticipated.
“How’s Rory?”
I don’t bother replying because he can guess how he is.
“If ya ever change yer mind, I’ll understand.”
“I won’t,” I assure him as I reach for his hand.
We stand quietly, both hoping the peace will help reveal the answers we so desperately seek. So far, however, we’re greeted with nothing but silence.
Dr. Shannon saw Hannah early this morning and gave her some strong medication to help deal with the pain. He assured me no
thing is broken. She got lucky, he said, but there is no such thing when a young girl gets beaten within an inch of her life.
I haven’t slept. I can’t. I’m sick of waiting…waiting for everything.
I’m hoping that by pummeling this punching bag, the answers I need will miraculously appear. No such luck sadly. But I won’t give up. Ethan and Eva are relying on me.
“Hey.” Babydoll appears in the doorway of the barn, dressed in one of my T-shirts.
She crashed on the couch last night, exhausted and emotionally drained.
She’s handling this well, but I know deep down, she’s beside herself with worry. Her sister has been kidnapped by a psychopath, and there isn’t a fucking thing I can do about it.
“Hi,” I reply, focusing on the bag as I wallop it a few times.
She comes a little closer but keeps her distance as she knows I don’t want to be smothered. “Hannah is looking a little better.”
“Aye.” I can’t look at her because I know what she’s doing. She wants to assure me that everything will be all right. But we don’t know that.
Every step we’ve taken has been a risk, but this is different. Ethan’s and Eva’s lives are on the line if I make the wrong move.
“Punky, please don’t do this.”
“Do what?”
“Don’t shut me out. I want to be here.”
“Ya shouldn’t want that,” I snap, punching the bag so hard, the cord snaps from the rafter, and the bag drops to the ground with a thud.
Babydoll sighs, folding her arms across her chest. “Well, too bad because I do. I’m not going anywhere. So can you stop sulking and listen to my idea?”
I don’t have a choice in the matter so I gesture that I’m all ears.
“We need allies, ones we can trust. Ron Brady and his friends proved they could be trusted last night. What about Brody’s men? Do you have a list of names?”
I nod. “Yes. I met them. Well, most of them. I don’t think they can be trusted, though.”
“They’ll be looking for a leader,” she says. “Brody paid their bills, and in the end, they’ll go where there is stability. They don’t care about our family feuds.”
“Ya don’t think Liam will be the one they turn to?”