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“Aye. He’ll come around,” I say, having complete faith. “Now that I’ve planted the seed, it’ll grow.”
Cian’s cheeks billow as he exhales loudly. “So what do we do now?”
“Now, ya go and enjoy the festivities. I’m goin’ home.”
Cian appears guilty for the fact, but I won’t have it. This is a happy time for Rory. He deserves at least one friend here to help him celebrate. Before Cian can protest, I bring him in for a loose hug and leave him behind.
“There ya are,” Darcy says as I walk down the hallway.
I was hoping to remain undetected, but she is technically my date, so I suppose I owe her an explanation. “I’m goin’ to catch a taxi home. You stay, though.”
She shakes her head. “Naw, I’ll take ya. Besides, I don’t think I’m welcome here anymore.”
I know that’s because she brought me here.
I don’t argue as I want to ask her how she knew Brody was going to be here. We leave without saying goodbye.
When the valet brings the car around, Darcy gestures with her head that I’m to drive.
“I don’t have a current license,” I say, but Darcy smirks.
“Since when have you ever followed the rules, Puck Kelly?”
“Aye, I suppose yer right,” I reply, ignoring good sense and getting behind the wheel.
The moment Darcy buckles in, I plant my foot onto the accelerator and speed down the drive. She yelps, reaching for the grab handle, but I don’t slow down. I’ve not driven for so long. I’ve forgotten the thrill of being in control.
Darcy turns down the radio as if I need the silence to concentrate, but it only has me going faster.
“Y’ve obviously not forgotten how to drive,” Darcy states, white-knuckling the seat belt across her chest.
Her fear only spurs me on.
“How’d ya know Brody was comin’ tonight?”
“My dad does business with him.”
Turning to look at her, I ask in horror, “What?”
“Keep yer eyes on the road!” she exclaims, recoiling back in her seat when I aggressively overtake the car in front of me.
But I’m in control.
What I’m not in control of, however, is Patrick Duffy doing business with the man who played a part in Connor’s death and the end of the Kelly name.
“The fuck is yer da doin’ business with that arsehole?”
Darcy appears regretful for the overshare. “Just like everyone else in this town, he’s afraid of Brody Doyle. If yer not with him, then yer dead. There’s no way around that, which is why…” Her pause has me gripping the steering wheel in anticipation.
“Which is why I needed to get ye out of prison. Yer the only one who can stop him.”
I’m not surprised Darcy had an ulterior motive. Nor am I angry at the fact either. But I don’t understand why she’s so confident that I can put him down like the sick dog that he is.
“Is that right?” I question, interested to know her reasoning.
“Yes. I know he’s afraid of you. I’ve heard him speak to my father about ye. How he’s glad ya were in prison because yer the only worthy opponent capable of bringin’ him down. But ya were in prison ’cause of him. He was braggin’ ’bout that. And that is why I needed to get ya out.
“He stole Belfast from ya. These past ten years have been hell without ya, Punky. Everyone lives in fear. At least when the Kellys ruled, they looked out for us. But now, no one trusts anyone anymore. Brody rules with fear, while Connor, he ruled with respect.”
