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She gracefully gets off, ensuring she’s not flashing any arse in her short skirt as she picks up her bike, quickly mounting it. “Thanks a-again,” she calls out, riding away as if the devil is at her heels.
Looking down at myself, I realize he is.
Coming to a stand, I wipe the gravel from my clothes, confused as to what the fuck just happened. Sure, I’ve had girls show interest in me. I’m not being cocky; it’s what happens when you bear the Kelly name, but this was different.
Why?
Because I wanted her too.
I don’t like this sinking in the pit of my stomach. Is this what…feelings are? I don’t know. How can I? I watched the only person full of feelings be slaughtered in front of my eyes. The only person to teach me what emotions are is my dad, and he’d rather teach me how to shoot or kneecap someone than deal with something he said I’d never need.
“Emotions make ya weak. They get ya killed.”
My phone rings, thankfully interrupting these thoughts which will eat at me until I drown them in a bottle of Buckie.
It’s my uncle Sean. “Bout ye?”
“Sound. On the way home.”
“Yer da is waitin’ for ya.”
Shite.
He wasn’t supposed to be back for another hour or so.
“I’m about halfa way.”
“Yer coddin’,” he says, and I can imagine him shaking his head. “Where ya at? A’ll come get ye.”
I hang up and text my uncle the GPS coordinate from my maps. He’s here within twenty minutes.
Uncle Sean is quiet, which means things will be anything but at home. When we pull up the graveled drive, I sigh, seeing this once castle as nothing but a prison. This house has been in my family for generations.
Its beauty is undeniable, but I don’t live in the main building. I can’t.
Every inch of the interior has been replaced with my stepma’s things. That’s the first thing she did when she moved in. She redecorated, saying the place needed a facelift. But I know what she really meant was that she wanted to remove any trace of my ma.
I live in the stable yard buildingbehind the main house. It has everything I need, and it’s far away enough that I don’t have to see my dad unless I need to. I make sure that’s not a lot of the time.
We exit the car and before we enter the house, Uncle Sean gently grabs my arm. “Don’t provoke him tonight, cub.”
“Course not,” I quip with a slanted smirk.
“Catch yerself on!” he rebukes, not appreciating my cheek tonight. “He’s in a mood.”
“That’s nothin’ new.”
“Punky,” he warns with a stiff upper lip.
He’s the reason everyone calls me Punky. My name is Puck Connor Kelly, but when I was younger, much to the distaste of my father, I couldn’t pronounce my own name. I would try to say my whole name, as I knew it would please my dad if I could, but it just sounded like Punky. So, my uncle called me Punky, not wanting to ridicule me like my dad, and it just stuck.
“Ack, sure ya know yerself,” I reply, putting his worries at ease.
With a sigh, he lets me go, and we enter the lion’s den. Many have marveled at the large reception hall and domed ceilings, but the only good thing about this place is my twin half-siblings. They’re one of the only reasons I stay here as I know if I move out, I’ll never be allowed to see them again.
I’ve left home many times, intent on never returning. I stayed with Rory or Cian while I tried to figure out what to do, but the problem with that was my dad always knew where I was. If I wanted to break free from the Kelly name, I had to leave Northern Ireland and change my name.
But I soon learned there’s no running from being a Kelly, especially being the eldest son of the most powerful man in Northern Ireland. I had to start new.
