Into Temptation (Deliver Us from Evil Trilogy Book Two) Page 18

It’s time.

  She will text me once it’s safe as she said she has everything under control. Until then, I’m to wait quietly.

  I text Rory and Cian the updates as we’re no longer alone. Thanks to Babydoll, we have allies on our side, willing to fight with us. The plans have veered off course, but this plan was never foolproof. I was always hoping a better option would come about.

  And it has.

  Tonight, Brody Doyle will take his last breath.

  I check in with Hannah, who says that Ethan is asleep. I worry he’ll try to sweet-talk her into cutting him some slack because if she does, Ethan will be lost to us for good. He’ll do anything to find his next fix and will tell her anything she wants to hear.

  She promises me she won’t fall for his lies, but I know how convincing a junkie can be.

  Anger courses through me when I think of the reason my baby brother is hooked. Sean no doubt pushed the drugs onto Ethan so he could control him. An addict will do anything to score, and this is how Sean has been able to control Ethan for so long.

  He’s a drug-dependent zombie who is lost and alone in this world. The only thing which gives him joy is getting high. He won’t give that up without a fight. I know that. So I need to replace that high with something else.

  Love.

  Ethan needs to know how sorry I am for leaving him all alone. I never meant to abandon him, and I’ll spend the rest of my life proving to him that he is loved. I can only hope he finds it in his heart to forgive me.

  My phone lights up, and when I read the message from Babydoll, the devil within rattles at the bars on his cage.

  Let’s do this. Meet me by the ice sculpture.

  With a deep breath, I take one last look at my reflection in the mirror and nod. This is the first time in a long time I’ve seen a man I recognize. There is passion and fire behind my eyes because this is the first step to taking back my life.

  I send Rory and Cian a text, letting them know it’s showtime.

  Opening the door, I exit the bathroom and walk down the hallway like I belong. No one pays any attention to me as they’re all too busy ensuring the night goes off without a hitch.

  Thankfully, the crypt is small, so it’s easy to find. The moment I walk down the stone stairs and see it up ahead, a bubble of excitement rises because I couldn’t have set a better scene myself. It’s Gothic and haunting, and I can imagine this crypt was used for more sinister events back in the day.

  The security guard at the door is too busy chatting to some busty blonde to pay any attention to me as I flash him my invite. He nods that I’m to enter without even bothering to frisk me first. This is a blessing and a curse because I wonder who else is armed.

  Babydoll has my gun and knife in her bag as the guards won’t search her, but it seems they’re not searching anyone, which is strange.

  Taking in my surroundings, I’m thankful the lighting is dim, as it allows me to keep to the shadows. I walk through the room, passing a harpist playing a soft piece on her large white harp. The room is lit up with candles, setting a romantic mood for some, but to me, it is the perfect place to spill blood.

  Tall tables covered with white tablecloths are set up around the room as it’s not a formal dinner. Guests stand around, sipping French champagne and laughing like they’re here to have a good time. But we’re all privy to the fact that this fundraiser is a load of shite.

  Every person in this room is as corrupt as the other, and soon, they’ll learn what happens when you side with the wrong team. From the looks of their fancy jewels and expensive dresses and suits, they are the rich who are considered upstanding citizens to the unsuspecting.

  Behind closed doors, though, these arseholes are depraved, cruel sadists who exploit anyone for their own personal gain. I think about the gangs Brody is offering protection against. Taking in the crowd, I’d bet anything the gangs are made up of these men and women.

  The more fear they instill in people, the more power they have. Their time has come to an end.

  I see an ice statue of a cherub up ahead. Babydoll stands behind it, casually sipping champagne. In the room of hundreds, she stands out. She is my beacon of light in a weathering storm.

  I make my way over to her, not drawing any attention to myself as I keep to the shadows with my chin downcast. When I reach her, she doesn’t flinch. She doesn’t acknowledge my presence because to onlookers, we’re merely strangers, waiting for our host to address the room.

  I reach for a glass of champagne and drink it coolly while examining the room from behind the rim. I can’t see any familiar faces, but that doesn’t mean they’re not here.

  The music suddenly quiets, and the room erupts into loud applause when Brody Doyle appears. His friends slap him on the back while his smugness has me guessing he has no idea I’m here. Liam stands to the left of the small stage, watching the room closely.

  I’m thankful Brody has chosen candlelight to set the theme because Babydoll and I remain hidden at the back of the room.

  Brody taps the microphone once, ensuring it’s on. “Friends,” he starts, giving the room a false sense of security. “Thank you for coming tonight. It means a lot to my family and me.”

  He takes a deep breath, which is all for show, as he ensures it echoes across the speakers.

  “We’re here tonight because my daughter, Erin, was taken away from me. She was innocent. She never hurt a soul. But that didn’t stop those terrorists. The police are still searching for her killers, but it’ll never bring back my Erin.”

  Sniffles around the room reveal some people have fallen for Brody’s bullshit, but I know better. He’s bitter because Sean outsmarted him. I don’t know what he hopes to achieve with this fundraiser, but I doubt he’s hosting this out of the goodness of his heart.

  Both Sean’s and Brody’s allies are split down the middle, meaning one can’t overthrow the other. They are both as spineless and untrustworthy as the other, which is why my plan to eliminate both won’t fail.

  “Tonight is in honor of my late daughter, who was taken away far too soon. All money raised will be donated to the Seek Help Foundation here in Dublin who help unfortunate children so they don’t end up on the streets, their future fated to be one of crime and gang-related activities. So please dig deep.”

  I scoff softly because this sob story is fucking pathetic.

  His claims of caring for anyone other than himself are laughable. This fundraiser is no doubt a ruse for him to seek out future employees. The misfits, the kids who won’t be missed, are most valuable to men like Brody.

  “Can I call my daughter, Camilla, up here to help with the auction?”

  I don’t allow my emotion to show because I didn’t know about this. Babydoll said to trust her, so this is me trusting her. But going in blind turns my stomach. If anything were to happen to her up there…

  I swallow past the thought because I need to focus.

  The crowd watches her as she passes them gracefully. She holds her head high, owning the room like the queen she is. When she gets on stage, Brody pulls her in for a hug. She kisses his cheek, not letting on what’s about to transpire.

  I keep my eye on Liam because something about him appears off. I can’t place my finger on it, but he seems…distracted. An ominous weight settles in my gut, but I shrug it off as my paranoid mind just adding to the ever-growing shite pile.

  “Thank you for coming,” Babydoll says into the microphone, addressing the room. “It means a lot to…my family.”

  Her pause reveals the disgust she feels at associating herself with the Doyle name. But she’ll never be one of those fuckers.

  “The first thing we have up for auction is a personal training session with Lachlan O’Malley.”

  When the crowd ooh and aah, I assume Lachlan is some expert in his field as I’ve never heard of him.

  “Let’s start the bidding at fifty euros,” Babydoll says, peering around the room.

  A lady at the front of the room rai
ses her hand, which sets off a bidding war. This goes on for minutes, and when the final bid is settled at over a thousand euros, I realize these people have money to burn. I wonder what else is on the cards.

  The bidding continues on various items for what feels like hours. I keep to the shadows, watching the major players who spend hard as they may prove to be useful to me later on.

  “Okay, we’ve saved the best for last,” Babydoll says, and when she focuses her attention my way, I know this is it. “The final auction for this evening is one which we hope will have you digging deep.”

  Brody smirks, his Good Samaritan act almost forcing me to vomit in disgust.

  “So, ladies and gentlemen, without further ado, the final prize is…a date with my father.”

  Brody’s head snaps to the left, hinting this was never discussed with him, which means this is my time to strike.

  He doesn’t make a scene, though, and smiles cordially.

  The crowd also appears surprised as nervous looks are exchanged between the partygoers. But when Babydoll starts the bidding at one hundred euros the nerves are replaced with greed.

  The woman sitting a few feet away raises her hand. “Five hundred euros” she shouts, her excitement palpable.

  This gives me an idea.

  As Babydoll keeps track of the bids, I subtly move through the shadows, concealing my motives as I slowly walk through the room. The bidding is at three thousand euros which reveals how desperate these lickarses are.

  I scan the room for who I need, and I see that person in the shape of a woman wearing some ridiculous contraption on her head. The brim of her elaborate hat gives her a clearing of about five feet around her as no one can stand close by in fear of losing an eye.

  But this acts as the perfect camouflage.

  As the bidding continues, I ensure not to alert anyone as I walk past them, keeping my eyes peeled on Babydoll and Brody. No one notices me lurking as they’re all too excited at the fact that the auction has now reached six thousand euros.

  But I’m about to give them something to be excited about.

  When I’m within reach of the woman, I make eye contact with Babydoll. She has no idea what I have planned, but nods artfully, divulging that she trusts me.

  “Do I have seven thousand euros?” she asks, scanning the room.

  Brody stands proudly, hands in his pockets, oblivious to what’s about to unfold.

  “Going once, going twice…”

  It’s now my turn to show Brody Doyle just how valuable he is to me.

  With the subtlest of movements, I reach out and tug at the long peacock feather hanging from the lady’s hat. Instinctively, she raises her arm to stop her hat from falling off; just how I knew she would. But everyone around her gasps, as they all assume she’s just bid seven thousand euros for a date with the devil.

  “Sold!” Babydoll exclaims quickly as she clearly saw me.

  The woman smiles uncomfortably as there is no way she can take it back.

  I stand off to the side, biding my time, and when Babydoll calls the woman to claim her “prize,” my time has come—finally.

  The harpist commences a soft tune as the auction is done. The crowd whispers behind their hands, no doubt gossiping about who won what and how much was paid. I follow close behind the lady, using her as a shield to glide through the room without detection.

  Babydoll is aware of my movements and takes care of the thing which stands between Brody and me—Liam.

  She taps him on the shoulder, gesturing toward the hallway. I don’t know what she whispered into his ear, but it has him making a quick beeline for the exit. The stage is set…

  Brody advances forward with a smile, but that soon fades and is replaced with utter fear—he knows, he knows his time has come.

  Stepping out from behind the lady, I smirk in victory. “Boo.”

  Before he has a chance to reach for his gun, the room is suddenly eclipsed into darkness. The only source of light is the flicker of flames which illuminate this place into a morbid paradise. I push the lady aside and storm forward, gripping Brody by the throat and walking him backward until his back hits the brick wall.

  He tries to fight me, but I knee him in the balls and then elbow him in the stomach to wind him further. As he’s bent in half, gasping for air, I disarm him, placing his gun at the small of my back. I take off my suit jacket and roll up the sleeves of my white shirt.

  “She betrayed me,” he wheezes, eyes on fire when he realizes Babydoll was never interested in playing happy families; when he realizes their little heart-to-heart chat meant nothing to her because she chose me. She will always choose me. “That fucking slut.”

  With a growl, I press my forearm over his throat. “I’d be watchin’ what ya say now.”

  When he tries to push off the wall, I press down harder over his larynx. He soon realizes I’m done playing.

  “Ya don’t have the bollocks to do it, son,” he challenges, eyeing me viciously. “Yer goin’ to end my life with so many witnesses, are ya? I don’t think so.”

  Babydoll was right.

  She said Brody would have his guard down, believing he had safety in numbers. But it’s the numbers that will help me get my message across.

  Brody’s attention soon focuses over my shoulder, and I know it’s Babydoll without looking. A sharp, familiar object is placed into my open palm, a silent invitation to do what I must.

  When I remove my forearm, Brody instantly tries to fight me, but I soon put him in line when I break his nose with my elbow. He hollers, but that doesn’t subdue him. So, when he attempts to kick me in the stomach, I grab his leg and slice across his Achilles tendon.

  He collapses with a pained howl because standing on two feet is a thing of the past.

  Gripping him by the hair, I drag him to the front of the stage, then stop and breathe. I take a moment to really appreciate my surroundings, because inflicting screams on those who are usually the abusers gives me great pleasure.

  The lights suddenly flicker back on, showcasing the glorious sight I’ve created.

  Men and women stop mid-flee, blinking quickly as they adjust to the change in lighting. When they see the exit is manned by Ron Brady with a machine gun in hand, they gasp. That gasp turns to screams when their eyes are riveted my way.

  “I’m awful sorry I messed up yer black and white theme,” I say with a smirk when I see the trail of red I left while dragging Brody to his impending death.

  “Liam!” Brody screams, squirming madly, but he’s not going anywhere.

  “Get on yer knees,” I order firmly.

  When he doesn’t comply, I yank on his hair, forcing him to obey as best he can with a split Achilles.

  I have no idea what happened to the incompetent security working the door because there is no one here to save Brody. Ron Brady mans the exit, grinning broadly, a warning to anyone who dares to take him on.

  I decide to introduce myself in case anyone decides to be a hero. “If I could trouble ya for a minute of yer time, I’d much appreciate it.”

  The fact that I’m holding a bleeding Brody hostage assures their utmost attention.

  “Thank you,” I say when all eyes are on me. “My name is Puck Kelly. My father was Connor Kelly.”

  The silence can be cut with a knife.

  There is no need to explain who Connor was. They all know. They also know shit is about to go down.

  “Northern Ireland is my home. As it was to my family generations ago. But ya see, Brody here, well, he wants to use my home for his own personal greed. In case ya didn’t know, which I’m sure most of ya do, Brody is a liar, a cheat, and a murderer.”

  No one dares speak.

  “Brody, along with his brother, Aidan, raped and killed my ma. I saw everythin’. I was locked in the wardrobe, helpless to help her. I was five years old. But I’m not helpless anymore. I wasn’t helpless when I slit Aidan Doyle’s throat. Nor was I when I burned Hugh Doyle alive.”

  The
crowd gasp, their curiosity soon turning to fear.

  “So, I’m here tonight to avenge what is rightfully mine. Brody took my ma’s life, and now, in front of you good people, I’m goin’ to take his.”

  A lady to the left of the stage dry retches, holding back her vomit behind her hand.

  “You can’t do this,” a middle-aged man says, stepping forward, phone in hand. “I’m calling the Garda.”

  With a chuckle, I call his bluff. “Go on then. I’m sure they’ll be interested to know yer all as guilty, in one way or another, as Brody.”

  His bravado soon dies as he didn’t think I was privy to his dirty little secrets.

  Babydoll mentioned that the people here are as vile and corrupt as the Doyles, so I know none of them would risk their freedom to save Brody. They will be forced to watch an affluent man take his last breath and know that I, Puck Kelly, am responsible for this war I’m about to start.

  I don’t know where Liam is, but he won’t stop hunting me until I’m dead. So, I need to beat him to it. I will be the last man standing because I’ve done my time.

  When I tighten my grip on Brody’s hair, he begins to flail, knowing his time on this earth is running out. “Take it all,” he pleads. “I don’t want Belfast. Y’ll never see me again.”

  “We’re past negotiatin’,” I snarl, yanking his head back. “This is a long time comin’.”

  “You think ye can beat Sean on yer own?” he shouts, eyes wide as he peers up at me. “You need me!”

  “Naw, I don’t,” I counter with a smirk. “I have all the help I need.”

  On cue, Babydoll stands beside me. “Hi, Daddy.” She smugly waves.

  Her betrayal infuriates him. “Ya fucking whore! Yer just like yer mother! Ye’ll never be my daughter. I should have let him have his way with ya.”

  She hisses, taking a small step back. “You knew?”

  “Aye, I knew yer brother, Hugh, wanted to fuck ya. I knew he was straddlin’ the line. But I didn’t think ye’d have an issue with it, seeing as ya had no problems spreadin’ yer legs for Puck.”

  Her eyes fill with tears because, although I know about Hugh being infatuated with her, I didn’t realize the full extent of it. To find out Brody was aware of the sick things he did to her has me pressing my blade to his throat.