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“Aye, I did.”
He waits for me to elaborate, but I don’t have the words right now. I can’t explain why Aoife, the prison nurse who I had sex with on a few occasions, would have anything to do with Sean. I can’t explain why he’d give her money. And I can’t explain who the father of her child is.
She never mentioned a chile. Or the father of the child.
It can’t be me. Aye, we had sex, but I never came inside her. I made sure of it—I think I did. This world doesn’t need another Puck Kelly. So why can’t I shift this heaviness pressing on my chest?
“What did ya do, Punky?” Cian sighs in defeat.
“I don’t know, Cian, but the woman was the nurse in prison. She and I—” I don’t need to explain any further. They understand.
“Why is she takin’ money from Sean?”
“I don’t know, but it can’t be good.”
We drive the rest of the way in silence as no words can describe the mess I find myself in.
“If ya don’t eat, y’ll starve ’cause I’m not bringin’ ya any more food. This isn’t a buffet.”
Curling into a tighter ball, I close my eyes and wish for this to end. But it never does. I don’t want to believe this is my punishment for breaking Rory’s heart because he got his revenge when he tricked me.
He told me it was over; that Punky had defeated Sean. That’s why I went with him. He said we were going to meet Punky, but he lied. When he took me to the flat, I knew that I had been tricked, and when Liam was waiting for me, I knew Punky had lost.
Liam was beaten, which proved Punky fought until the very end, just how I knew he would. Liam told me Punky was dead, buttheyweren’t done with me yet, which is why I’m a prisoner in here; wherever here is.
Rory betrayed us because we betrayed him, and now, we’re all paying the ultimate price.
“I’m sorry, Cami,” he said with tears in his eyes.
“You fucking coward!” was my response before I was knocked out cold.
“I won’t tell ya again. Eat. Y’ll get sick otherwise.”
Truth be told, I’m already sick. I can barely keep anything down. My nerves are shot because this waiting, this not knowing, it’s the worst form of torture.
“Let me go, and then I’ll eat,” I stubbornly spit to my captor.
She doesn’t reply.
With a sigh, she closes and locks the door.
The single mattress whines as I turn over as best I can with my hands cuffed to the bedhead and examine the bedroom where I’m kept hostage.
It’s fitted nicely, and if I wasn’t bound to the bed, I would say it has everything a bedroom requires. But all I see is a prison cell. The window doesn’t have bars, but it’s just a tease as the outside world is within grasp, but I can’t fucking move.
My arms ache, as I’ve been bound since I arrived here eight or maybe ten days ago. I’ve lost count. Days and nights all mesh into one. But it doesn’t matter. I don’t want to live in a world where Punky does not exist.
My captor is a spiteful woman—a woman with a small child. I was blindfolded when brought here, but when she’s come to give me food, she doesn’t conceal her face. And I hear her young child’s happy shrills through the thin walls. His name is Shay.
I don’t know who she is or why she would be involved with whoevertheyare. There must be a reason. I need to find out what that reason is because I need to see for myself that Punky is…
I refuse to even think it. He can’t be. All of this can’t have been for nothing. I need a plan. I need to think like Punky. I can’t leave this room. I need someone to help me. And when I hear the happy cries of the young child, I realize he is the answer.
From his voice alone, I’m guessing the little boy is about five years old. I don’t want to use him, but I don’t have a choice. He is my key out of here.
I wait and listen, and when I hear him outside my door, bouncing a ball in the hallway, I strike.
“Hello!” I call out, almost crying in relief when the ball stops bouncing. “What’s your name?”
