Born & Bred Read Online Free

almost spat the words. “They were the ones who locked your grandfather up for being too much of an Irish hero—the bunch of scuts, every one of them, God forgive me.
    “But your grandfather never held a grudge. ‘We all die for Ireland, someday,’ he always used to say when people got to arguing about it. He wasn’t one for making a hash of the past, especially with those who hadn’t even been a part of it.”
    She then fell silent among her memories as the breeze rippled the water and the flags, and the fresh green leaves, as Danny wandered among his own daydreams. After he had done all the patriotic stuff, he’d play football for Ireland and help them win the World Cup. And they would win it fairly, too, not like the English. The parish curate was starting a new team and had asked Granny if Danny could play for them. They must know how good he was, although he had never really played much.
    He’d have to get a pair of boots, though. He’d get his father to buy them the next time he was over. Granny wouldn’t know the right ones. He would ask his mother to ask him; she always knew how to get him to do things.
    “Can we go see my ma now?”
    “Sure of course we can, pet. We can get the bus just down the street and we’ll be there in no time.”
    She rose slowly and headed toward the gate, trailing her fingers in the water for a moment before raising them to her lips, her heart, and across her shoulders.
    ***
    “You like that, don’t ya Boyle? A gun gives a man real power.” Anto lit another cigarette and watched Danny’s face. “Why don’t ya keep it? It could come in handy, ya know?”
    Danny hesitated. He could get one of them—but which one? Anto was always packing. He had lit his cigarette with his left hand. His right was still in his pocket, facing Danny. And the Driller was coming back.
    Danny decided against it. He would have to raise the gun on both of them and he couldn’t be sure that he would actually fire it. He might pause and that would give one of them a chance to pop him. He held the gun in his hands, turning it around before handing it back to Anto.
    “Thanks, but I don’t want it.”
    “Are you sure, Boyle? It could come in handy.” Anto reached his gloved hand forward and took the gun away. “C’mon then, let’s get the fuck outta here.”
    “But what about Scully?”
    “Ah, fuck him. We’ll make a call when we get back. The cops can come and pick him up.”
    “But won’t they figure out what happened?”
    “Don’t worry, Boyle. They’ll never be able to trace it back to us. That’s why we wear gloves. C’mon, let’s get to fuck outta here.”
    Danny sat in the back seat and looked at his bare fingers, now imprinted on the gun. Anto had him over a barrel and there was fuck-all he could do about it.
    “By the way, Boyle,” Anto turned when they pulled up outside the Yellow House, close to where Danny lived. “Now that Scully is no longer with us, we’ll have a few things for you to do.”
    “I don’t know if I can.”
    “C’mon, Boyle. You’re perfect for the job. And,” he paused to pull his gloves off, “we know we can trust you. Think about it and we’ll be in touch.”

CHAPTER 2
    Danny’s mother listened to the radio as she waited for the kettle to boil. The news was full of the Queen’s visit to the North and Jacinta’s heart grew warm with hope. They were all tired of the fighting, but her heart froze a little when the newscaster went on to report on the finding of a young man’s body up near the Hell Fire Club. He had been shot in the head and left like rubbish among the trees.
    Danny had been out late and she couldn’t help but worry. He had become so shifty again, avoiding her eyes and any questions about how he was spending his nights.
    “It’s just one less feckin’ drug dealer,” Jerry snorted as he sat down at the kitchen table and waited for his tea.
    She had seen that look on his face before. He had worn it for years when she was