Page 72 of Thy Kingdom Come

Someone is in my room.

Without thought, I spring up and reach for the gun in the top drawer of my bedside table. But when I hear who it is, I halt.

“Ack, ya won’t be needin’ that, cub.”

Uncle Sean sits in the chair by my bedside, reading the morning paper. He is untroubled by the fact that I was seconds away from shooting first and asking questions second.

Running a hand through my snarled hair, I sit up against the bedhead, indicating if he wants to speak, then better he does so now. I’m still gutted he lied to me for all these years. I know he thought he was protecting me, but I’d have preferred the truth.

“Are ya still angry with me?” he asks, lowering the paper and looking at me over the rims of his glasses.

“No.” My short response is hardly convincing.

“When yer older, y’ll—”

But I don’t want to hear his excuses.

“Spare me the fucking lecture.” Kicking off the blankets, I stand, hinting I’m not interested in continuing this conversation. But Uncle Sean won’t let this go.

“Please, Punky, I’m sorry. It’s done, so it is. No matter what, y’ll always be my blood.”

And we’ll find that out for certain once I get a paternity test sorted.

A blood test is out of the question, but that doesn’t deter me. It means I just need to be creative as there are other ways to get someone’s blood, like breaking their nose. I need anything that has Connor’s DNA on it, so I plan on getting a sample of his saliva and hair as well.

“Oh, happy fucking days.” I sarcastically smirk.

Uncle Sean sighs, and even though it upsets me to see him this way, I’ve got other things to deal with.

We flipped a coin—heads, we do Ronan in. Tails, he lives.

It was tails.

But he left Dublin barely alive as it was a warning of things to come if we ever saw him again. He said he acted alone, but we don’t believe him, which is why we’re suspicious of everyone. Until we can confirm everyone is with us, they’re all the enemy.

Uncle Sean cannot know that we plan on giving our operation an overhaul because he’ll stop me. Just as he didn’t tell me the truth about my ma, he will want to protect me for the rest of my life. But I’m grown, and I don’t need him protecting me.

I can do that myself.

“If yer done havin’ a face like a Lurgan spade, don’t forget the party. It’s in a few hours.”

Oh, fuck.

I completely forgot about Connor’s fifteenth wedding anniversary.

It’s going to be a proper affair because Chief Constable Moore—among other people of “importance”—will be attending. This is Connor’s way of appearing like every normal Joe Soap, while working over the people he wants in his corner.

Connor doesn’t do anything just cause. There is always an ulterior motive.

“Quit yer yackin’, I’ll be there,” I reply with half a smile.

Uncle Sean smirks, but it’s strained. He knows we’ve got a long way to go before we’re sound again. “Have ya not heard about Ronan?”

“I can’t say that I have,” I reply calmly.

“We think he’s been stealin’,” he explains, taking off his glasses and rubbing the bridge of his nose. He’s knackered. “But no bother.”

“Ack, it sickens ye. He’s probably long gone by now, though.” I need to send him off course. No one can know that he’s gone for good.

---