“All right. Thank you for tendin’ to my wounds—again.”
“Old habits die hard,” she replies with a strained smile. “When yer feelin’ better, give me a call.”
I nod because I plan on it. If Shay is my son, then he’s in danger.
Aoife appears to want to say something but changes her mind at the last minute. “I’ll see ya soon. And call on a doctor if ya can. Yer face—”
But I wave her off. I don’t need her to tell me the cut is as bad as it feels. “Goodbye, Aoife. It was good seein’ ya.”
She smiles, and I can see it—hope. She hopes that when I meet Shay, my feelings for her will somehow change. But that will never happen.
“I’m happy yer out. Ye never belonged in there.”
I remember her telling me that I was a good man, that I was different from the rest of my fellow inmates. I didn’t believe her. I still don’t.
When I’m alone, I exhale loudly, unbelieving how my life can change so drastically in the blink of an eye. I need to get to the bottom of this and find out if he is really my son. But before I do, I need to make sure I don’t look like the monster that I am.
Reaching for my mobile off the bedside table, I dial Dr. Shannon, hoping he can help put me back together again.
I hear the lock click over, but I don’t turn around.
My mind, body, and soul are spent. I’ve tried to fight. I’ve begged, but I’m no closer to escaping this nightmare. I don’t know how many days, weeks have passed. All I know is that I’m losing hope.
Where is Punky? Could it be that he’s really…dead?
I hold back my tears as my captor rushes into the room because she is usually a lot more composed. Her panic has me turning over my shoulder to look at her. She doesn’t ask but simply opens my mouth and shoves a sock into it.
Before I can spit it out, she ties the belt of a velvet dressing gown around my face, securing the sock into my mouth.
A muffled “No!” leaves me, but she’s done a good job at gagging me.
This is new. I wonder why she wants me silenced.
Pure hatred is exchanged between us as I glare at her. I don’t know what I did for her to hate me so much, but she will pay. They all will.
She’s dressed quite nicely in a fitted green dress. Her hair and makeup are done too. I wonder what the occasion is. I would say she’s stunning, if not for the fact she’s holding me against my will.
“Don’tcha make a sound. I swear, y’ll regret it if ye do.”
My hands may be bound, but my fingers are free to show her what I think of her request when I flip her off.
She actually laughs before quickly closing and locking the door.
My interest is piqued, and I strain my hearing, hoping to get some clue to what’s going on. When I hear a knock on the door, I hold my breath. Is this the reason she wanted me gagged?
“Hi,” I hear her say. “Come in.”
Heavy footsteps reveal the guest has accepted her invitation, and that it’s likely a man. The front door closes, and the wooden hallway reveals the footsteps getting closer to the room I’m in.
“Shay!” I hear her call out.
The flat is small, so no matter where she and Shay are, I can usually hear them. Shay runs into the hallway, but comes to an abrupt stop when he greets whoever his mother has invited into their home.
“Hi,” he says, his suspicion clear.
I’ve come to like him as when his mother is asleep, he often sneaks into my room. He promises he is still looking for the small key, and I believe him. Someone so small doesn’t understand what a lie is.
I’ve learned where I’m being held—in a flat about an hour out of Belfast.
When he brought me his mother’s phone, I thought it would be over, but without a password, I couldn’t text or call anyone. I wanted to call the police, but I know they’re dirty, so I can’t take that risk. I will get out of here—one way or another—and I know Shay will be the key.
Being around him brings me a sense of…peace. I don’t know why. He reminds me of…
“Hi, Shay.”
Puck?
There’s no way.
The world stops spinning, and I’m afraid I’ll stop breathing, and that has nothing to do with being gagged. My mind is playing tricks on me, I’m sure of it, but time stands still when I hear the voice I’ve longed to hear wrap me in a warm embrace.
“My name is Puck. But ye can call me Punky if ye like.”
My heart clenches. He’s here. He’s really here. It’s finally over. A sob escapes me because he’s alive. My world is whole again.
“Punky?” Shay questions, and I picture him curling his lip in distaste. So this is the first time they’ve met? Is it also the first time he’s met Shay’s mom?
“Aye. I got called that when I was a wee lad. No older than you.”
Shay’s mother, whose name I still do not know, laughs.
Shay clearly doesn’t share the sentiment. “That’s a stupid name.”
“Mind yer manners,” she reprimands.
“Naw, don’t scold the lad.”
That voice, that voice has always been my salvation, but I don’t understand why he’s here. I want to believe he’s here to save me, but he’s not, and that’s because…he doesn’t even know I’m here.
That’s about to change.
“Puck!” I scream, but it’s merely a muffled cry thanks to the sock shoved down my throat.
But I can’t give up.
Rattling the cuffs against the bedhead, I hope Puck can hear it. But the noise is muted as I have no slack with the cuffs. I am bound tightly.
“Puck! I’m in here!” I cry in vain because he can’t hear me, but I can hear him.
“Can I go play now?” Shay asks, clearly not interested in talking to Punky.
“Maybe we can organize another time to meet?” she says.
But he isn’t interested in that idea, it seems. “I don’t want to.”
“Shay! I’m so sorry,” she says, horrified by Shay’s outburst.
“It’s all right,” Punky assures her.
What’s going on?
But Shay doesn’t appreciate her speaking for him, and when I hear a thud, I guess someone just got kicked.
“Boys a dear!” she cries.
But a husky laugh, one which has set my soul on fire, slips free from Punky. “Good for you. Never let anyone force ye to do anythin’ ya don’t want to.”
Shay’s retreating footsteps reveal he’s gone, but his mom and Punky still stand just outside my door. I’m running out of time.
“PUCK!” I scream, flailing madly on the bed.
I twist my body, hoping to make a sound, hoping to do anything which will alert Punky that I’m feet away. But what I hear next has the fight in me dying because I suddenly think that I am.
“I just need to get my head around it, so I do,” Puck explains. “This is a lot to take in.”
“I never wanted to bother ya with this, but Shay is stubborn…just like his dad.”
I flinch at her words.
“Aoife, bring me proof that he’s mine, then we’ll talk.”