Redeeming 6: Boys of Tommen #4

Redeeming 6: Part 8 – Chapter 93



AOIFE

“ARE YOU FEELING OKAY?” Casey asked on the first Saturday in May. We were sitting on the footpath outside my house, watching as Podge, Alec, and several other lads kick a ball around on the green across the road from my house.

“No,” I replied, not bothering to lie. The blasé façade I used for the rest of the world was exhausting and after a long week of bullshit smiling at school, I was running on empty. “I’m tired, I’m fat, and I’m going out of my mind with worry.”

Casey didn’t ask me why. She was all too aware of Joey’s behavior these past few months.

“Where is he now?”

“At work, supposedly.”

“You don’t believe him?”

“I don’t believe anything he says anymore, Case.”

I can’t afford to.

That was the sad truth.

Keeping my eyes trained on the football match unfolding on the green, I shook my head and shrugged. “Dad says he’s been showing up for his shifts, but I just…I don’t know.”

“Oh, babe.”

“Don’t say oh babe like that,” I begged, repressing a shudder. “I’ll cry and I really need to not cry anymore, okay?”

“He’ll come right, Aoif,” she said. “He will.”

“Maybe,” I whispered, chewing on my lip, as my gaze flicked to my stomach. “But I need him to do it now.”

“When’s your next scan?” she asked, reaching a hand over to rub my bump that was discretely hidden beneath an oversized hoodie. “The anomaly one is coming up soon, isn’t it?”

“No, that’s the one I had last week.”

“When’s the next one?”

“My twenty-eight week one.”

“Shit, Aoif, I can’t believe you’re already halfway there.”

“Yeah.” I sighed heavily. “Me either.”

“Listen.” Twisting sideways, to face me, my best friend took my hand in hers and squeezed. “I know you don’t want to talk about Joe, but I just need to make sure you know that none of his behavior has a thing to do with his feelings for you and the baby.” She gave me a sad smile. “He’s messed up in the head, babe. He’s dealing with a lot of unresolved trauma. I mean, the shit with his father is enough to give me PTSD, let alone Joey. But none of that means that he doesn’t love you and baby bear.”

“I know he loves us,” I whispered, gaze flicking to my lap, as a tear threatened to spill. “But he just loves that poison he injects in his veins more.”

“We both know that’s not true,” she was quick to soothe. “But we also both know that he’s not getting better without professional help. It’s gone too far, Aoif, and lying and covering for him isn’t going to help him in the long run.”

“What am I supposed to do, Case?” I choked out, swinging my attention back to her. “I can’t force him into a rehab program, and even if I could, how am I supposed to pay for it? His mother doesn’t give a damn, and every penny I’m earning at the pub, I’m either using to pay off his debts, or trying to save up for the baby. Because that’s another thing I have to worry about. What if he’s not there when the time comes?”

“Don’t think like that,” she argued, flinching. “He’ll be there, Aoif.”

“But if he’s not?” I pushed, forcing myself to admit my greatest fear aloud. “What if he slips so far off the map that I can’t reach him? What if he overdoses? If he dies? Or gets killed? What then, Case?” The tears I’d been trying to fight escaped me and I sniffled back a sob. “What am I supposed to do? Mam and Dad can’t finance this baby. They’re barely making ends meet as it stands. I know what Joey needs, but I just…” Feeling helpless, I shrugged. “I just don’t have the money to fix him.”

“Doesn’t his older brother have a good job?”

“Fuck Darren,” I spat, narrowing my eyes. “He would rather pay me to have an abortion than pay to fix his brother’s mental health. Besides, he’s been spending more and more time in Belfast lately. Mark my words, Case, he’ll be gone before the baby’s born.”

“You could ask him to help you.”

“I did.”

“Ask him again.”

“Please don’t start,” I warned, holding a hand up. “I already have Mam on my back twenty-four-seven, lecturing me on everything that I should be doing. Please, Case, I don’t need it from you, too.”

“Never,” she soothed, slinging an arm over my shoulder. “In my humble opinion, I think you’re a bomb-ass bitch for handling all of this so well.”

“Funny.”

“It’s true,” she pushed. “You are incredible, Aoif. The definition of a strong woman. All the crap you’ve been taking from assholes at school? How you handle yourself? How you get up and hold your head high each morning? Babe, you are amazing.”

“Except that I’ve never felt less like a woman, Case,” I admitted hoarsely. “And more like a lost child.”

Distracted when the sound of a car engine revving filled my ears, we both turned to see a fancy Lexus pull up at the footpath in front of Katie’s house next-door.

“Well, if it isn’t Miss Slick, riding shotgun with the rich boys,” Alec called out from the green, whistling loudly. “Fuck me, Podge, we’re in the wrong damn school. The best I’ve ever been dropped home from school in was the backseat of Aoife’s banger.”

“Hey, you leave Rattles and Squeaks alone, ya hear,” Casey called back with a laugh. “It beats the hell out of the shitty saddler you gave me on the back of your mountain bike.”

“Stolen mountain bike,” Podge chimed in, as both boys crossed the road to meet us.

“Don’t pretend like I didn’t give you the ride of your life,” Al teased, winking at my bestie.

“Did you?” Casey pretended to think hard about it. “Must not have been that memorable if I can’t recall.”

“Cheeky fucker,” he chuckled, tossing his sweat-soaked t-shirt on his lap. “When you’re ready for the sequel just say the word, devil-tits.”

My laughter quickly died in my throat when the passenger seat of the Lexus flew open and a teary-eyed Katie emerged, followed by a boy I knew wasn’t her boyfriend. “Katie?”

“Patrick?” Casey called out, sounding confused, as we both scrambled to our feet.

“Okay,” I growled, as I both moved straight for my friend, with my bestie and my boyfriend’s besties flanking me “Who the hell hurt you and where do we find them?”

“Honestly, I’m fine,” Katie replied, eyes bloodshot, as she quickly slipped around us and hurried into her front garden. “I just n-need to go h-home.”

“Hey!” Closing the space between herself and Patrick Feely, Casey poked him in the chest and glowered up at him. “What the hell happened to her?”

Silently and stoic, Patrick looked from my one of my besties to the other and shook his head. “Ask her,” was all he finally said.

“I’m asking you,” Casey growled, not giving an inch. “If you hurt her…”

“I don’t go around hurting girls,” he said, blue eyes darkening. “I don’t go around breaking hearts, either.”

“Katie, hold up,” I called out, moving to go after her only to halt in my tracks when I heard a familiar voice behind me.

“Molloy.”

Repressing a shiver, I swung around to see Joey crossing the road towards me, still clad in his work overalls, with the sleeves tied around his waist, and the white t-shirt he had on underneath smeared in engine oil. He had a baseball cap slung on backwards, and his lunchbox dangling between his hands.

I found myself looking at him – really looking at him – and I sucked in a sharp breath at the sight.

He looked haunted.

Hollowed cheeks.

Dark circles beneath his bloodshot eyes.

Several weeks’ worth of stubble on his face.

He looked lost in his world, not even seeing me, as he stared off into nothing.

I’d often heard the term functioning alcoholic thrown around in conversation, but my boyfriend was the definition of a functioning drug addict. It didn’t seem to matter what Joey took or how high he got, he continued to present himself and function at a level that kept everything ticking over. If it wasn’t so soul-crushingly depressing, it would be impressive.

“Go,” Casey whispered in my ear. “I’ll deal with Katie.”

“What are you doing here?” I asked, meeting him halfway, so that our friends were out of earshot. “It’s only four o clock.” I folded my arms across my chest, desperately trying to soothe the ache beneath my ribcage. “You don’t finish work until six.”

My question seemed to take him aback, and his brows furrowed for a moment before the guilt kicked in, clouding his surprisingly clear eyes. “How are you feeling?”

“Fine.”

His eyes searched my face. “Yeah?”

I didn’t respond.

I couldn’t.

It hurt too damn much.

“What’s up, Joe?” My gaze flicked to the track marks on his arms, and I flinched. “Why aren’t you at work?”

Wordlessly, he pulled out his phone and held it out for me.

Frowning, I took his phone and unlocked the screen, opening a string of messages between Joey and none other than Johnny Kavanagh.

Yeah, so strange thing happened today…

Why are you texting me?

Because I took your brothers and they’re at my house.

Why?

I don’t know.

Do you plan on giving them back?

I guess.

You’re really fucked up, Kavanagh.

I know.

I’m on my way.

“Johnny Kavanagh took your brothers?” I gaped at my boyfriend. “Where? When? Why?”

“I don’t know.”

“Where’s your mam?”

Joey shrugged but didn’t respond.

“Darren?”

Another shrug.

“So, it’s left to you to clean up the mess and pick up the pieces.” It wasn’t a question. More of a resigned statement. “Again.”

“I know I’ve been letting you down,” he explained, tearing at his forearms with his nails, as his attention flicked from me to the commotion behind us. “And you’re pissed with me, but I was sort of hoping you might give me a spin over there to collect them.” Shrugging helplessly, he added, “I don’t have anyone else to ask.”

My heart cracked in my chest.

“Yeah, I’ll take you,” I replied, repressing the very strong urge I had to close the space between us and take him in my arms.

Because I loved this boy so fucking much that it almost killed me to stand here and not throw my arms around him.

But I couldn’t.

Because it wouldn’t change anything.

Because in the end, I would end up as the injured party.

That wasn’t to say that I had given up on him.

It simply meant that I had boundaries now.


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