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I need a minute to digest this because it feels like a bad dream.
I wonder if my ma only slept with Brody to get back at my da. Did Brody do the same thing? I can only imagine what an accomplishment it would be to sleep with yer sworn enemy’s wife. And what about me? Does he know that I could be his son?
It’s too much. I can’t breathe.
“How do I know you didn’t do her in?” I ask Connor, who is still slumped on the ground. “Ya had grounds to.”
“Ack, yer right. But I only found this out by the note she left when she kidnapped ya. The note which cruelly stated you were not my wee chile. The note which implied you were a Doyle.
“Brody bought that bungalow for her, so he knew where she was. I didn’t even know it existed. That’s why it took me three days to find ya, Puck. Yer ma and I always had problems, but I didn’t know any of this until she left for Moville. The Doyles knew where she was. They always did.”
I want to fight him, but the tattoo on my wrist burns me with the truth. The tattoo, the same one I saw when I was five years old, the one I saw the other night on the Doyles’ wrists, proves to me he’s telling the truth.
I always knew the Doyles were responsible for her death. However, I never really knew why—until now.
My entire life has been a lie.
“Why didn’t ya give me away?” I ask Connor, not wanting his sympathy. I just need to know why.
He shifts, flinching as he tries to stand. “’Cause I reared ya like my own.”
“Yer a Kelly, no matter what,” Uncle Sean says with love, offering a hand to his brother.
I suddenly feel sick to my stomach. I don’t even know who I am anymore. The man I’ve hated my entire life, the man I believed was responsible for all of this is actually the hero in this story?
It can’t be.
I need space. I need time to think.
Leaving behind the family who I now look at in a different light, I leave the barn, and the moment I walk outside, I tip my face to the skies and scream. I scream so loud, I’m certain my hollowed cries can be heard in Dublin.
Angry doesn’t describe what I’m feeling right now because this extends past that. I’ve never felt this sort of fury before. Once I’m done cursing the world, I walk toward my house, intent on only one thing.
When inside, I call both Rory and Cian. They don’t speak as they sense something huge just went down from the tone of my voice.
“I understand if youse say no, but I’m going to Dublin. Tonight. I can’t wait for Liam to call. I need to go to him.”
“And then what?” Rory asks.
“Then I’m goin’ to find out once and for all what that tattoo means. And when I do, then I’m goin’ for Brody Doyle.”
I can hear Cian choke on his beer. “What?” he wheezes.
Brody Doyle was always in my sights, but now, he’s my number one target.
“What happened?”
“What happened is that I found out Connor Kelly isn’t my father.”
Both boys sound shook, but they haven’t heard anything yet.
“And that Brody Doyle may be.”
I wonder what they’ll say.
“I’ll see ya in twenty minutes,” Cian says.
“Aye, I’ll be there in fifteen.”
