Deliver Us from Evil (Deliver Us from Evil Trilogy Book Three) Read online

  Ronan Murray is here with men who sacrificed their lives for me. They look at me with hope in their eyes, like I’m the magical potion that will better all our lives. But I’m not. I feel guilty for dragging them into my personal vendetta, only to end up here.

  Ronan pulled through in the end, and as I see it, he owes me nothing. His debt is paid. He tried to save Northern Ireland. We all did.

  Ron Brady and his men aren’t here, which is no surprise. They’d rather die than help Sean succeed. We were almost there. Victory was within reach, but the plot twist came out of nowhere and proved what a cruel, fucked-up bitch life really is.

  Sean stands with men I know; Logan Doherty, Flynn, and Grady—they were all Brody’s men. But now, it seems, they’re Sean’s.

  Flynn and Grady were the arseholes who thought they could intimidate me, and in return, I broke one’s nose and the other, I almost choked to death with my bare hands. I can’t help but snicker when I see them.

  “I almost didn’t recognize ye…standin’ on yer feet,” I taunt the brown-haired cunt who I forced to crawl on his knees. “Did ya crawl here?”

  When he advances, Sean grips his arm. “Flynn, enough. I’m sure yer not keen for another beatin’.”

  He almost sounds proud of the fact.

  Flynn settles down—for now.

  Grady, the ballbag whose nose I broke, offers me his hand. I peer down at it, making clear I’m not here to make friends. He retreats quickly.

  “I wanted to apologize for bein’ disrespectful to ye when we first met. I didn’t know who ye were.”

  “That’s a grand yarn, but why the fuck are ye tellin’ me this?”

  He recoils, as he clearly believed waving the white flag would make everything okay. All it’s done is make me think he’s nothing but a lickarse.

  He doesn’t reply.

  Logan Doherty, like Ronan, came to my aid when I needed them the most. The ironic thing was that I put my entire trust in Rory, not them, when in fact, they were the men who I should have trusted. They pledged their loyalty because of Connor and because I am his son—blood or not, that’s who I am.

  Now, however, they wonder what went wrong. Why am I working with the man who I fought so hard against? I wish I could tell them, but I refuse to jeopardize any more lives.

  There are other faces I recognize, but there are some I don’t. There are more men than I anticipated, meaning Sean’s army grows.

  “Did ya get it sorted?” he asks me discreetly as I stand beside him.

  I nod in response, hoping Orla is a long way from here.

  He smirks before clearing his throat. The room falls quiet. “This sight,” he starts proudly. “This is one I’ve been dreamin’ of for years. My men are here, in their rightful place, standin’ before the Kellys.”

  This wee inspirational speech is already testing my patience.

  “I know there have been rumors, but I called ye here today to put them to rest. Puck stands with me. Not against me, as most of ya have heard. But ye can see with yer own eyes that there is no feud between us. He is here, where he should be…where a son should be.”

  This comes as a surprise to most as they believed that Connor was my father.

  “Puck is my son, not Connor’s. I’ve wanted to tell you for so many years, but I couldn’t do that to Connor. I wouldn’t embarrass him in front of his men.”

  I clench my jaw because this load of shite is about to make me sick.

  “I know I’ve let a lot of youse down,” he says calmly. “And I’m sorry for that. But I’m here to make amends. I’m here to make Northern Ireland what she once was. I couldn’t do that before because some of ye lost yer way. Ye forgot where yer loyalties laid.

  “But I’m not here to dwell on the past. I want to look to the future, our future where the Kellys rule once more. Some of ye here used to work for Brody Doyle, and that’s all right. I make no judgements.”

  That’s rich, as he too used to be in cahoots with Brody, and everyone knows it. But no one dares speak it in fear of their life.

  “But Puck made the choice easy for you when he ripped that arsehole’s head from his shoulder. All that’s left standing is Liam Doyle—a soft pussy who lives in his father’s shadow. Unlike Puck, who is his own man.

  “He’s eradicated most of the Doyle bloodline. He is lethal, and with him on our side, we cannot lose.”

  The men look at me with nothing but pride. I wish they didn’t as I’d happily kill every single one of them if it meant Babydoll’s return.

  “So, I ask ya here, now, do ya pledge yer loyalty to me, to the Kellys? Are ya ready to be the kings of Belfast once more?”

  A holler echoes amongst the men as they beat their fists against their chests, voicing their allegiance. Ronan and Logan, however, don’t seem as enthused as the others. They merely lock eyes with me, begging I don’t do this.

  Begging I take down Sean, just how I promised I would.

  But I can’t.

  All I can do is mimic the barbaric actions of the men, showing support for my father and hope that one day, my betrayal will be rewarded.

  Logan curls his lip and turns around to leave, unable to watch as I bow down to the man who destroyed my life. I don’t blame him—if I had a choice, I would leave too.

  Sean stands tall, relishing in the glory because this is what he always wanted but was never able to achieve. He’s lied, cheated, and killed to be here, and he’ll remain here because of me.

  Once the applause ends, Sean turns his attention to me. “All I ask for is yer loyalty, and I will ensure y’ll be rewarded. But double-cross me, lie to me, and ye will be punished…that goes for ye all.”

  It suddenly feels like he’s speaking directly to me, and when there is a scuffle to my left, I realize that’s because he is.

  It seems Flynn and Grady have slipped into their lickarse roles with ease as they drag Orla into the room. She is skin and bone. There is no need for both of them to handle her, but it seems they’re happy to jump to command like the good little dogs they are.

  They hold onto Orla, who peers around the room with fear in her eyes.

  “This woman stole from us,” Sean says, ensuring he uses the word “us” so it’ll make what he’s about to do easier for the men to stomach. “When someone doesn’t pay for the gear they use, they are stealing from me, from you, from yer families.”

  “Fuckin’ slut,” one of the men slurs under his breath.

  “We can’t let this go unpunished. What will it say for us if we did? How can we rule this kingdom if we show weakness?”

  “Kill her!” another man shouts.

  This is what Sean wanted. To rile these men up, to have them bond over bloodshed as it’s something which will tie them together forevermore.

  Sean returns his attention to me. “We can’t show weakness. That’s why we’re here,” he says, no longer talking about Orla.

  This is my lesson for disobeying him. This was his test; one I failed.

  He doesn’t trust me, as he shouldn’t. But now I realize what letting Orla go has done. Babydoll will pay the price for my clemency.

  “Showin’ mercy is nothin’ but weakness, and I can’t have cowardly men on my side. Show them what happens to weakness, son.”

  He reaches into the small of his back, producing a gun. I eye it viciously, as I do him. But I accept.

  Orla whimpers. “Punky, please n-no. I did what ya asked, but they st-stopped me.”

  My chest rises and falls dangerously slow because she never stood a chance. He was always watching, as Orla was the test to see what I would do. She was always going to be made an example of.

  “I know,” I assure her as this isn’t her fault. It’s mine. “On yer knees.”

  She blinks once, unsure if she heard me correctly, but when I press the gun to the middle of her forehead, she realizes that she did. “Please, don’t ki-kill me. I don’t wa-want to d-die.”

  Flynn and Grady help her to her knees, their smirks revealing what sick fucks they are. I’m saddened I didn’t end their lives when I had the chance.

  “How should she be made an example of?” Sean asks the men, who eye Orla in a new fashion. “Should we kill her? ’Cause that’s what she deserves.”

  Orla interlaces her hands and begins to pray—just as her father did when in a similar situation. It makes me sick that history is repeating itself. I don’t know how much more I can take.

  “Or maybe she can pay her debt another way?”

  All I see are hungry wolves, licking their lips at the prospect of Orla being their whore. She will be shared around, abused and humiliated in ways that no person should ever endure. And once they are done with her, she’ll be killed—and killed slowly.

  I know what I have to do.

  “Lead us not into temptation…” she prays softly, eyes closed, begging for salvation.

  But she won’t find any here.

  “But deliver us from evil,” I whisper under my breath, and just as Orla peers up at me with hope, I pull the trigger. She leaves this earth with my face being the last thing she sees.

  Forgive me.

  The loud bang shatters the bloodlust.

  “Should I leave her head on her father’s doorstep?” I goad Sean, slamming the gun into his chest. I don’t want it. “Oh, that’s right. Her dad’s dead.”

  Sean reads my sarcasm and doesn’t push as he knows I’m close to my boiling point. I did what he wanted, so I push past the men and leave before I kill them all.

  Once in my truck, I speed away, wishing I could escape this emptiness inside me, but it’s only growing. I know sooner or later, it’ll eat me whole.

  The faces of the men and women I’ve killed flash before me, and I know they’ll haunt me for the rest of my days.

  Turning down a winding backroad that is scarcely used, I push down on the accelerator, close my eyes, and surrender. I don’t want to be the callous man Sean wants me to be. But what choice do I have? Things would be so much easier if I just…stopped breathing. I can’t save Babydoll.

  For the first time in my life…I give up.

  “I’m sorry, Ma. I failed ye. I failed youse all.”

  Taking my hands off the steering wheel, I know once I veer from the gravel road I will either hit a tree or fall down the steep embankment. Either possibility I’m fine with.

  I lose myself in Babydoll. Her smile, her laughter, the way a simple thing as her trademark scent could chase the monsters away. She is the last memory I want to have when I leave this world.

  A tiny voice screams at me, demanding I don’t give up. My mum never surrendered; she fought with the last breath she took. As did Babydoll; she fought for me when I didn’t want her to. She never gave up. If I do this, then this is me, giving up on her.

  “I love you too. I always have. Come back to me. Promise me?”

  I made a promise, and I intend to keep it because I am Puck fucking Kelly, and I don’t give up.

  Opening my eyes, I frantically turn the wheel, but it’s too late as I’ve careened off the road and am headed straight for a tree. I don’t bother braking. Instead, I swerve and hope for the best. The airbag implodes the moment the bonnet connects with the trunk of the tree.

  The engine dies with a splutter as I pat myself down, ensuring all my parts are still intact. I’m fine, just a gash to the forehead and some whiplash to the neck. The truck, however, is not.

  Opening the door, I climb from the truck and exhale loudly when I see the damage. Swerving may have saved my life, but it didn’t save Cian’s truck. It’s a write-off.

  “Fuck!” I scream into the skies, threading my hands through my hair. “Fuck!”

  Birds take flight, terrified of the madman screaming down their home.

  With my heart racing, I do feel slightly better. I don’t know if it was destroying something, or straddling the line of life and death which has woken me the fuck up because I clearly want to live. I’m no quitter. I never have been. I’m appalled at myself for even contemplating giving up.

  I’ve been a miserable bastard, feeling nothing but sorry for myself, but that stops now.

  Dialing a tow truck, I give them the address of where I am, but don’t stick around because I don’t want to be here in case the peelers arrive. I tell the driver to send me the bill and I’ll take care of it tomorrow. He doesn’t argue when I tell him my name.

  Grabbing my things, I hobble up the embankment and commence my journey home. Up until now, I didn’t realize how much I wanted to live, but I realize…I want to live for her. I’m going to find her, and when I do, I’ll burn Sean’s kingdom to the ground.

  A ferocious banging on my door scares the shite out of me.

  I reach for my gun in the couch cushions and jump from the couch, half-awake as I point the gun at the door. But when I see who barges in, I lower it.

  “Yer not fucking dead,” Cian says, slamming the door shut and storming over to me.

  “Naw, I’m not, but bang any louder next time, and I will be. Ya near gave me a heart attack. Have ya not heard of a phone?”

  He ignores my quip and shoves me in the chest. His arm is in a sling because when Rory shot him, bullet fragments ended up in his arm and shoulder, but he doesn’t allow that to deter him and shoves me again. I allow him to push me because this is the first time I’ve seen him since that night.

  This has been a long time coming.

  “I got a call from the peelers. He says to me, yer truck is at the wreckers. Do I know anythin’ ’bout that? He said the truck is banjaxed and that I was lucky to survive the crash. I told him I swerved to avoid hittin’ a dog and that I’m fine,” Cian says in a rushed breath. “But I’m not fucking fine, Punky!”

  “I know that, Cian, and I’m sorry,” I calmly state.

  “I am so fucking angry with you! How could you do this? Why did you have to kill him?” he cries, beseeching I explain. “I want to hate you, but I just…why?”

  Cian knows Rory turned, but this is the first time he’s asked what happened.

  “Because he betrayed me,” I reply without pause. “He broke my trust ’cause Cami broke his heart. There is no way around it. Rory handed Cami over to Sean because if he couldn’t have her, then no one could.

  “He knew she wasn’t my sister. He read Sean’s journal before anyone else and then hid it, hopin’ no one would find it. He didn’t care. He wanted her for his own. But when I was released, he realized her love for me would never die.

  “And then when she called off the engagement, and he saw us together…the boy we grew up with, Cian, he was long gone. Ten years is a long time. I never expected anyone to wait for me, but Rory fucking knew!

  “He fucking knew what Sean did, and he let me rot. He could have shown that journal to any of youse, but he knew what that would mean for Cami and him. He knew that if she uncovered the truth, she would have never agreed to be with him.

  “I couldn’t let him live. Not after what he did to Cami. His betrayal against me, I could forgive, but not for handin’ Cami over to the man who has destroyed my entire life. He made his choices, and I made mine,” I conclude with conviction.

  “He told ya this?” Cian asks, clearly stunned.

  “Aye. If he knew Cami wasn’t my sister, he would have read about Sean being my dad. He knew everythin’, and he didn’t give a fuck. For ten years, I rotted alone, thinkin’ I was doin’ the right thing. Rory could have ended that. But he didn’t. I couldn’t let him live,” I repeat, needing Cian to understand my actions.

  “I don’t know where Cami is, and once again, I’m a prisoner. Sean won’t tell me where she is until I prove my loyalty to him. I don’t even know if she’s fucking alive!” I shout, shaking my head at this shitstorm.

  “Thanks to Rory, I shot Orla Ryan dead. I let her go, only for Sean to outsmart me, yet again. She was hooked on the shite the Kellys dealt her because a Kelly took her father. That’s all us Kellys do—we take!”

  I toss the gun onto the couch as I don’t need it. Cian is no threat.

  He simply stares at me, void of emotion because there isn’t a single feeling which can sum this tragedy up. Even though everything I shared is the truth, that doesn’t make it any easier to digest. I suspect Cian feels betrayed by Rory and me.

  “I can’t get my head around it,” he says. “How could he have known and not said anythin’ to us?”

  I don’t understand it either, and I like to think he only found out the truth not long before I was released. I don’t want to believe he knew the truth for ten years and did nothing about it, because if that were true, then I really didn’t know Rory after all.

  “I don’t know,” I reply honestly. “He probably believed everyone was better off with me behind bars. And he wasn’t wrong. The shit I’ve caused…I can never take back. The lives lost because of me; I’ll never forgive myself for.”

  “What a fucking mess.” Cian sighs, shaking his head. “Rory fucked up, but so did you, Puck. He didn’t deserve to die like that.”

  I swallow past the lump in my throat because a part of me agrees with him. But Rory made his choice. “The man I shot was not the boy I knew. Given the choice, I’d kill him again.”

  The room falls silent.

  “How do we get past this?”

  “We don’t,” I reply. “I can’t take back what I did, and I don’t want to. I’m okay with that. But are you?”

  Cian’s cheeks billow as he exhales. “I don’t know,” he says honestly. “I can’t get the image from my head. I’ve not seen ye like that before. It scared me.”

  “I’ve not been in a situation like that before, Cian. I saw no reason, no mercy. Rory took from me the only person I’ve ever loved and all because he was fucking jealous. It’s somethin’ y’d expect a chile or wee teenager to do, not a grown man, a man who y’ve known yer entire fucking life.

  “I’m sick of these games. It’s like every single day is the same fucking day. I’ve lived this life since I was five years old, and I’m sick of it. I want no part of it, but I’ve no choice. Until I find Babydoll, I’m forced to do Sean’s biddin’.”

  Cian’s fight has simmered, and even though we’re far from being okay, the fact he hasn’t left means he hasn’t given up on me—yet.