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“Please don’t kill me. I know yer friends with Orla. Think of her.”
“Youshould have thought of her,” I spit, not appreciating him guilt tripping me. “What did ye think was gonna happen?”
“This hatred, Puck, this isn’t you. It’s because of yer da that ye think like this. Yer a good lad. Ya can’t hate someone because of their religion. This isn’t the Middle Ages anymore.”
Tipping my face to the ceiling, I inhale, needing a minute. “In the name oftheirGod, they slaughtered my ma. So I can hate whoever I want. Do I hate Catholics? Aye, and the reason is, all Doyles are Catholics. To me, the Doyle name is what I have most issues with. Their religion is secondary.”
It’s been forced onto me that I was to hate Catholics. They were the enemy. And after my hostile experiences with every Catholic I’ve met, how could I not? But Nolen is right.
A small part of me agrees with him. To hate someone because of their beliefs is ridiculous. Would I go out and harm an innocent person because of what God they kneel before? No. But that doesn’t mean I want to be their chum either. Or have anything to do with them. As long as they stay away from me, we’re sound.
The problem with Nolen is that he can’t be trusted, religion aside. He lied because he knew if he told us the truth, there was no way he would work for the Kellys. He should have found a job doing something else because now, he’s going to find out what happens to liars firsthand.
“I understand that, but we’ve got nothin’ to do with the Doyles. Please, lad, let me go. Yer a good—” Before he can finish, I whack his cheek with the Bible once again.
He moans, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth.
“Why’d ya have to lie?” I question, tossing the Bible at Nolen. “Pick it up. I want ya to read me yer favorite passage.”
“Wh-what?” he stutters, eyes wide.
“Read to me,” I repeat, grabbing an aul’ wooden chair and sitting on it backward.
Nolen cops on that I’m serious and opens the Bible, unable to turn the pages because his hands are trembling so badly. He licks his finger and slowly peruses through the passages until he stops. He raises his eyes and meets mine.
“For You have armed me with strength for the battle; You have subdued under me those who rose up against me. You have also given me the necks of my enemies, so that I destroyed those who hate me.”
With a slanted smirk, I clap slowly. “Ye wee fucker. Ya think yer funny then?”
By reading this passage, he’s pretty much telling me to go fuck myself.
“Yer gonna kill me, anyway. I may as well go down fightin’,” he replies, closing the Bible and extending it out to me. “Will ya give this to my wife?”
I respect Nolen for accepting his fate, instead of groveling like a wee pussy. But that doesn’t change what I’m about to do.
Coming to a stand, I look down at the man whose life I’m about to end. I think about how my actions will impact the lives of his family and friends. I think about Orla and how when I see her next, I’ll know something that she never will.
I’ll know that I killed her father.
“Make the right choice, Puck. Yer ma—”
The moment Nolen attempts to use my ma as collateral, something inside me snaps. He didn’t know her. He has no right to speak her name. With a roundhouse kick, I connect with Nolen’s temple. He collapses onto the hard ground.
“Don’t you dare speak her name!” I exclaim, lifting Nolen up by the lapels of his shirt.
I headbutt him, but don’t let go. His head snaps back with an awful crack, and his body goes limp. He doesn’t put up a fight as I toss his arse into the chair. He flops forward, his chin drooping to his chest. He’s pathetic.
“Fight me!” I demand, yanking his head back by his snarled hair.
“Naw,” he breathlessly replies, looking up at me, refusing to cower. “Ya wanna kill me, go on then. I’m not givin’ ya an excuse to justify yer actions.”
His refusal angers me and I punch him in the face, breaking his nose.
Blood splatters onto the ground, but it doesn’t give me the satisfaction it should. I punch him in the ribs, a painedoofescaping him, yet he still doesn’t fight back.
I’ve had no issues with violence in the past, so why is this time different? It’s then I realize it’s because the others, they deserved it. Nolen is a traitor and a liar, aye, but does that warrant his death?
As he helplessly slumps in the chair, bloody and struggling to breathe, I know the answer is no.
