“Yeo!”
“Puck, that’s enough,” Cian says, covering his mouth, horrified.
“Naw, it’s not enough. I’m just gettin’ started.”
Sean won’t die if I continue yanking on this rope. He’s bound to pass out from the pain, but I can wake him as I extract another tooth.
“Puck, please…stop,” Sean pants, his chin drooped to his chest.
I laugh in response. “Quit bein’ such a pussy. My mum endured a lot more than you have. Yer fucking pathetic. Cian, will ya do me a kindness and hold this rope for me?”
But Cian shakes his head. “He’s had enough.”
“It’ll never be enough,” I correct, mesmerized by the blood splatter on the floor. “This is what ya wanted, is it not? This is the person I need to be to be the ruler this country needs. I stop now and that’s showin’ mercy. Something I cannot do ’cause it will get me, get my family killed.”
Cian lowers his eyes, ashamed. “I’m sorry I asked this of ya.”
But I don’t want his apologies, and that’s because I like it…this side of me—I feel comfortable in this skin.
“Don’t be sorry. I’m not. In fact—” I gesture with my head that Cian is to come take the rope, and it’s not optional.
With a sigh, he walks over and takes hold of the rope. I crack my neck from side to side and stretch my fingers. Sean has flopped forward, his arms bent back at a grotesque angle. His eyes are closed shut, but I know he’s not passed out yet.
“You should have killed me when ya had the chance,” I state, walking toward him.
I grip his snarled hair and yank back his head so we’re face to face. “Yer just as much a monster as I am,” he pants.
“The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, aul’ lad,” I counter because if he is trying to evoke sympathy, he better try harder. “This is all I know. It’s where I feel alive. I wanted a life away from this because I like the depravity, the control, too much, and I know if I continue down this road, I won’t stop.
“I will want more. Like a druggie, I will become hooked to the taste and nothin’, no one will matter. I will need to feed the monsters, and I know them well; they’re ravenous. They will always, always want and need more.
“Sound familiar?” I pose while Sean clenches his jaw. “It should ’cause sooner or later, I’ll turn into you.”
And there it is—the truth I was so afraid to face. The reason I want, the reason I need to give this away. I don’t want to turn out like my father—fathers. It’s all I know, but I have a chance to break free. But as I let Sean go, only to slam my fist into his cheek, I wonder if I’ll ever be free.
The thought that this is my future, that if I continue down this road, it may be me strung up like a Christmas ham, beaten to a pulp by my son, has me punching Sean over and over again.
Each time my fist connects with his flesh, I hope and pray that it will chip away at this anger festering within me. That I will be content with avenging my mum and living a normal life. But as Sean’s blood coats my knuckles, I know that it won’t.
This is who I am—a cold, calculated murderer who needs violence to survive.
However, three simple words collide with my rage, fighting for dominance—fighting for me.
“I love you.”
No, I don’t know what love is. Everything I touch turns to shite. It dies. And the same fate is headed for Shay and Cami if I don’t push them away.
“Puck…I love you. You’re good. You’re a good man.”
“No!” I cry, refusing to let those words win.
I continue slamming my fists into Sean—his face, his body, any part of him that is exposed, I will violate and destroy. It’s what he taught me when he made me watch my mum be slain.
“You cunt! I fucking hate you! You fucking ruined my life! You ruined…me.”
Sean is unconscious, but he’s still breathing, which infuriates me further. I punch him in the face so hard, a tooth lodges free and somersaults to the floor.
I want more.
I raise my fist, ready to end this once and for all, but arms wrap around my middle, enclosing me in a heaven I don’t deserve.
“Come back to me, Punky. Fight it. Don’t be who he thinks you are because you’re not. You’re kind. Loyal. You are hope.”
No longer am I battling Sean; I never was because the enemy is me. I’ll never win this war because I need to overthrow myself first.
My breathing grows slower and follows Cami’s as she takes the lead. Soon, we are in sync. Her front pressed to my back as she grounds me, as she drags me back from hell.
The room suddenly spins into focus because when I was punching Sean, I was in a blind rage. I was not in control of my actions, and when I turn around and see Cami is bleeding from her lip, I realize how far gone I really was.
“The fuck?”
But when she quickly wipes her bloody lip with the back of her hand, I know I’m the reason she’s bleeding.
“Oh, fuck. I did that?” It’s not a question because I know the answer. I hit the woman I love with every fiber of my soul. I hurt her, something I said I’d never do again.
Without thought, I drop to my knees before her, head bowed, begging for forgiveness. I don’t deserve it, but I will spend every waking moment making it up to her.
“I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry. I’m worthless. Nothin’ but a fucking arsehole. I’m exactly like the man I hate most in this world.”
Something happens, and I’m powerless to stop it.
Tears begin to fall, washing away the face which has owned me since I was five years old.
With the gentlest of touches, Cami lifts my chin, but I recoil—I don’t deserve her touch or her kindness. I never have. But she won’t let me win. She will be my beacon in a weathering storm.
“You’re nothing like him,” she whispers, reaching into her pocket for a tissue.
She commences rubbing my cheek, cleansing my face of the demon which stains my skin.
“You fight to better the lives of everyone. That’s all you’ve ever done. You’ve sacrificed your life, your happiness for all of us. You’ve been our strength, so now”—she gently wipes around my mouth—“let me be yours.
“I want you. The good. The bad. The ugly. I want it all because I want, I will always want you, Puck Kelly. Demons and all.”
She pulls away, and I’m confused why as she’s only cleaned half my face. One side is still slathered in paint, and that’s the cheek she cups tenderly.
“You’re split right down the middle. You wear two faces, regardless of if I clean it away. These scars are yours to carry forever. There has to be darkness for us to appreciate the light, and even though your darkness rules you, those glimmers of light are blinding.
“And that’s enough. Your darkness may reign, but I know, in the end, your light will win.”
She lowers her lips and kisses me softly, granting me the greatest gift of all—her.
I lick away her blood, a primitive move like one does when they get a paper cut. Their first instinct is to put their thumb into their mouth. We are one—one blood, one body.