Redeeming 6: Boys of Tommen #4

Redeeming 6: Part 4 – Chapter 49



JOEY

“WHAT THE HELL are you talking about?” Alec demanded at big break, as he gaped across the lunch table at Casey. “Staind’s It’s Been Awhile is a mint song.”

“I didn’t say it wasn’t a good song,” she countered, handing him the mp3 player they had been passing back and forth during lunch. “I said it wasn’t a love song. It’s too depressing.”

“So? Life’s depressing,” he argued. “That’s the point.”

“Well, love’s not depressing.”

“Love is massively fucking depressing.”

“We’re never going to be on the same page with this, Al.”

“Then by all means inflict upon my ears your version of a love song.”

Casey tilted her head to one side, clearly thinking hard about her answer before swiping the mp3 player and pressing a few buttons. World of Our Own.” Casey smiled sweetly up at him. “Westlife.”

Looking wary, Alec put the ear pod to his ear and balked. “You are such a girl.”

“Don’t pretend you don’t know every word of the song.”

He grinned wolfishly at her before bursting into chorus.

“I knew it,” she laughed.

“You eating that, Lynchy?” Mack asked, gesturing to the untouched ham sandwich on the table in front of me.

I shook my head. “Have at it, lad.”

“Cheers.”

Leaning back in my seat, I stared aimlessly at the people sitting around me, with my mind reeling, and my stomach in knots.

“Are you okay?” Molloy asked, shifting her chair closer to mine as she spoke. “You haven’t eaten anything all day.” She placed her hand on my bouncing knee to steady the tremor running through my body. “You’re really pale, Joe.”

“I’m grand,” I replied, turning sideways and forcing myself to give her my attention – and stop shaking. “It’s all good, Molloy.”

The look she gave me assured me that she didn’t believe a word of it, but she didn’t push. Probably because she already knew how very un-good life was for me right now.

Everything felt like it was derailing again, and instead of keeping her safely at arm’s length, I had, once again, dragged her back into my bullshit.

This morning, when I fucked her against the PE hall of all places, only proved that I was just as reckless with my heart as I was with my body when it came to this girl.

I was a fool for her, and we both knew it.

The power she had over me was unsettling.

Knowing that a girl could bend my will to suit her agenda was a troubling fucking concept.

When I saw my father in the carpark this morning, with his beady eyes locked on her, I had made my peace with the man upstairs.

I had intended on killing him.

I truly had.

Until she waded into the middle of my personal breakdown, and reined me back in. Using her body to manipulate me into submitting was a sneaky fucking girl-move, and one that my girlfriend had honed to perfection.

Even now, as we sat in the school canteen, eating lunch, and surrounded by our friends, I could feel my anxiety eating me from the inside out.

Molloy soothed the pain, but she couldn’t take it away.

Last night for example, I knew my old man put hands on Shannon. I fucking knew it. The way my sister had rushed into her room and barricaded the door told me all I needed to know about went down between them.

He hurt her.

And I wasn’t downstairs to protect her.

I was in my room getting high.

I knocked on her door to check on her when I heard it slam, but she fobbed me off with some bullshit excuse.

I needed to get her out of that house.

I needed to get all of them out.

I just… I was so fucking tired.

I felt hollow.

Like I didn’t have anything left inside of me.

Every time I closed my eyes at night, I was haunted by the sound of my mother and sister’s screams. And if it wasn’t their screaming, it was the image of him pinning my girlfriend to that table.

I wanted to destroy that table.

I wanted to take a sledgehammer to it and break it into a million pieces.

“Could we go for a spin somewhere after school?” Molloy asked, dragging my attention back to her. “Or you could come over to my place.” Reaching up, she brushed her thumb over the bruise on my cheek and offered me a small smile. “I’m not fussy, but I just…we really need to talk.”

My phone vibrated in my pocket, and I stiffened, not daring to take it out while she was watching me so closely.

“I’m actually fairly busy this evening with work,” I heard myself say, and then felt like a piece of shit when her expression caved in disappointment.

“It’s kind of important, Joe.”

I knew it was.

I knew she had shit to say to me, to get off her chest. Nothing had been cleared up between us, we had just fallen into the same fucked-up pattern of physical affection, but I didn’t have the energy to go another round with her.

With anyone.

I was too fucking worn out to do anything more than barely function right now.

Getting out of bed this morning felt like climbing Everest.

I was exhausted from just getting myself to school.

The monumental effort it took me to just walk from class to class all day was almost overwhelming.

I couldn’t do deep conversations.

I just didn’t have it in me.

“We really need to talk,” she pushed, eyes full of uncertainty. “Please, Joe. It can’t exactly wait.”

“I can come over tomorrow night after work,” I offered weakly, knowing that it was the very last thing I needed, but giving her what she wanted anyway. “If you’re free.”

“I’ll be free.”

Nodding, I leaned in and brushed a kiss to her cheek before rising to my feet. “I’ll see ya later, okay?”

“Wh-what? Why?” Her eyes were laced with anxiety. “Where are you going?”

“Nyhan wants to see me.”

Liar.

Liar.

Fucking liar.

“You never said.”

“Forgot.”

“Oh.” She didn’t look convinced.

“I’ll see ya later,” I muttered, brushing her chin affectionately with my knuckles and then sharply turning on my heels and walking away.

Needing to get away from the person who ignited my conscience like no one else.

Needing a fucking breather from this life.

Waiting until I was out of sight, I slid my phone out of my pocket and checked the unanswered text.

Holland: I’m outside. Let’s go.

Sighing despondently, I tapped out a reply and slid my phone back into my pocket.

Lynchy: On my way.


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