Saving 6: Boys of Tommen #3

SEPTEMBER 1ST 2003

JOEY

FACE down on a mattress that smelled of piss and freshly spilled tears, I remained completely rigid as awareness claimed me from the sweet escape of sleep.

With my brain foggy and uncooperative, I forced myself to retrace last night’s events, trying to link my current surroundings with reality, but came up empty.

‘Dada,’ a familiar voice sniffled, and just like that, I knew where I was.

Like you could be anywhere else.

A small, sticky hand landed on my cheek. ‘Dada.’

Repressing the urge to shudder and scream, I slowly uncoiled my muscles, twisted onto my back, and cracked one swollen eyelid open just as my baby brother climbed on top of me.

Big brown eyes stared down at me. ‘Dada.’

‘Jesus Christ,’ I groaned, grimacing in resignation when his soaking wet pajama bottoms landed on my bare stomach. ‘Piss through your nappy again, Seany-boo?’

Nodding solemnly, Sean leaned close and pressed his chubby little hand against my cheek. ‘Dada, ow-ow.’ Lonesome brown eyes studied my face. ‘Ow-ow.’

‘No, Sean,’ another voice barked. In a tone laced with venom and fury, Tadhg sat up from his makeshift bed on my bedroom floor, and hissed, ‘For the last fucking time, he’s Joey, not Dada. Joey! Your actual Dada beat the shit out of your fake one last night.’

‘Tadhg, leave him alone. He’s only small, and I’ve been called worse,’ I growled, narrowing my eyes in warning, as I gingerly pulled myself into a sitting position and took stock of the sleeping bodies littered around my room.

Aside from the piss-soaked toddler on my lap, and the mouthy preteen on my floor beside my bed, another brother lay curled up across my legs like a sleeping puppy, while my sister huddled in the corner, with a floral-patterned duvet draped around her small shoulders.

The dresser wedged in front of my bedroom door was a harsh reminder of last night’s events, and I was suddenly cold to the bone.

There’s no place like home.

What a crock of shit.

‘Are you okay?’ That was Shannon, who looked like she hadn’t slept a wink last night. Deathly pale, she locked her blue eyes on mine and kept them there. ‘Joe?’

‘I’m grand, Shan.’ Reeling off the sentence of a lifetime, when the truth was that I hadn’t been okay since the day I was born, I lifted Sean off my lap, and climbed out of bed, pulling on a pair of sweats as I moved.

Today was Monday; the first day back to school after the summer holidays. No matter how bad any of us felt, staying in this house instead of going to school was not an option.

Fuck that.

Aching in parts of my body I never knew existed, I shoved the dresser aside before unlocking the door.

Inhaling a steadying breath, I quickly yanked open the door before the child inside of me persuaded me to hide under my blanket with the rest of them.

Grow a pair of balls, you prick, I mentally urged myself, as I stepped into the landing, ready to face both the unknown and the inevitable.

The empty landing didn’t ease my trepidation one damn bit, because I knew he was still there.

Still in the house.

Like a dark cloud hanging over all of us, but worse.

So much fucking worse.

Loud snoring drifted from behind their locked bedroom door, accompanied by muffled sobbing, and my blood ran cold.

Freezing on the mortal spot, I fought the urge to run to her. To burst through that door and throw my arms around her.

I wanted to protect her from him almost as much as I wanted to protect me from her.

‘Well?’ Glancing behind me, I found four wide-eyed faces watching me from the doorway of my bedroom. ‘Is he gone?’

Adrenalin spiking, and with heat that bordered on lava coursing through my veins, I pushed down the swell of emotion that threatened to break me, to make me weak like her. ‘No, he’s still here.’

‘He is?’

‘Yeah, he’s in her bed.’

Their faces fell, just like my heart, but again, I pushed it down, needing to get us the fuck out of this house more than I needed to wallow.

‘Right, everyone, go back to your own rooms and get yourselves sorted. Wash up and get your uniforms on. I packed the lunches last night; they’re in the fridge so don’t forget to pack them in your bags,” I began to order, knowing that if I didn’t, nothing in the house would get done. “Nanny will be here to take Sean and drop you boys to school, and Shan, we’ll walk together.’

“Okay, Joe.”

“Oh, and when I say wash up, I mean clean your ears as well as your teeth, boys,’ I instructed before stalking into the bathroom for a more likely than not, frigid cold shower.

With the bathroom door slammed shut behind me, I stood in front of the mirror and clutched the rim of the sink, allowing my eyes to assess the damage.

Grimacing at the sight of my swollen face, I forced myself to take a good fucking look.

Black eye.

Bruised cheekbone.

Busted lip.

I couldn’t decide what was worse; the fact that I couldn’t hide the bruises or the fact that I couldn’t stop him from putting them there.

Reaching for the tin that I kept hidden behind the back of the sink, I flipped the lip off and quickly set to work cutting and then snorting a line of coke, feeling some semblance of control return to my body when my head began to function again, and my heart began to thud harder.

Rubbing a hand down my face, I exhaled a sigh of relief before kicking off my clothes and climbing into the shower, willing the water to wash away my sins.

To wash away my pain.

“I don’t want to go, Joe,” Shannon mumbled, as I practically dragged her ass to school. “Please. It’ll be the same this year.”

“No, it won’t,” I lied through my teeth and told her. “You’re in second year now. It’ll be better.”

“I really don’t think I can do it.”

“Well, I know you can.”

“You do?”

“Yeah,” I told her. “I promise.”

She looked up at me with her big blue eyes. “You really promise?”

She had our mother’s eyes and it made it hard to look at her sometimes.

“I promise, Shan.”

She smiled and visibly sagged in relief.

The word seemed to comfort something inside of my sister, even if we both knew that I didn’t mean it.

She needed the word, and I was more than willing to give it to her if it meant that she was out of the house and away from our father.

“I still can’t believe you let somebody do that to your skin,” she offered then, reaching over to touch the black ink covering my forearm. “It’s so permanent.”

Shrugging, I resisted the urge to tell her that the intricate hoops and swivels permanently etched on my forearm helped conceal the huge permanent scar our father had put there when he took a broken bottle to us last Christmas, after too many whiskeys at the dinner table.

There was no point in reminding Shannon of something she was very much aware of. Especially since she was the one who had spent the entire ride to the hospital keeping pressure on my arm, to stop me from bleeding out.

I was just glad it had been my arm and not her face that he maimed – like I had a feeling he had been aiming for.

“You’re not a fan?”

She scrunched her nose up. “Not at all, I think tattoos are hideous; although, I have to admit that the Celtic crucifix on your back isn’t entirely terrible.”

“Is that a compliment I hear?” I teased, elbowing her playfully. “Come on, you can say it. ‘Joey, my favorite, most amazing, most devastatingly good-looking brother, I love your tattoo’.”

“Fine, it’s a nice tattoo.” Chuckling, she pushed me back and then hurried to catch up with me, her short legs slowing her down. “There, I said it. Are you happy now?”

“I didn’t quite hear that.” Wrapping an arm around her shoulders, I gently rustled her hair with my knuckles. “Say it.”

“Fine, fine,” Shannon squealed through fits of laughter. “Joey, my favorite, most amazing—’

“Don’t forget the most devastatingly good-look brother. That’s the best part.”

“Most in love with himself and vainest brother,” she corrected me with a laugh. “And I love your tattoo – even if it does take up half of your back.”

“Good enough,” I teased, releasing her from my hold.

“You’re such a dope,” she giggled, nudging me again with her elbow.

I didn’t care what she thought about me as long as she wasn’t thinking about how scared she was to go to school.

Her smile was rare, but I was proud to be able to put it there, even after the night from hell we’d been put through.

“It’ll be okay, won’t it, Joe?” she asked then, as the school came into sight. “When it’s all over and done with.” She sucked in a sharp breath before whispering, “When we’re grown up and gone from this town, we’ll get our happy ending, won’t we?”

“Yeah, Shan,” I replied, hitching my bag up on my shoulder. “You’re going to have an epic happy ending.”

“So are you, Joe,” she replied softly. “I just know it.”

It was at that exact moment my eyes landed on the leggy blonde leaning against the school entrance, with a grey beanie hat covering her ridiculously long hair, and a lollypop between her pursed lips.

“Yeah, Shan.” I wasn’t convinced about happy endings, but when Molloy locked her eyes on me and smiled, I could believe in the possibility of a happy day.

“Welcome back, fifth years,” Mr. Nyhan acknowledged from his perch at the podium in the canteen. “It’s wonderful to see all of your smiling faces as we embark on a new school year. Now, as you are all well aware, fourth year was a transition year. It was a wonderful opportunity to dip your toes in new waters and try out new hobbies and interests. But that was then, and this is now. Fifth year will see you all taking on new course work, a heavier academic workload than any of you can comprehend. In other words, the next two years of your academic career are going to be the toughest you have ever faced.”

“What in the name of Jesus is that fella on?” Podge asked, nudging my shoulder with his. “He’s absolutely crackers if he thinks this regurgitated pep talk is going to excite or encourage anyone to come to school.”

“Who knows, lad,” I mumbled, arms folded across my chest, as I leaned against the lockers at my back, and listened to Nyhan drone on and on with his usual back to school bullshit spiel.

“Rough night?” Podge asked then.

“What?” I narrowed my eyes. “Why?”

“I’ll telling you now, lads, the only thing I want to dip in water is my dick in Aoife Molloy’s tight pussy,” Alec declared, interrupting us, as he inclined his head to where Molloy was sitting at the opposite side of the canteen.

The minute I locked eyes on her, a surge of heat hit me directly in the dick.

Yeah, she was looking good this year.

I hadn’t spoken to her since the weekend when I fitted her new wardrobe for her.

Usually, she came up to me first thing before class for our morning ritual that consisted of a little verbal sparring.

However, I put her absence this morning down to the unfortunate series of events that had led me to almost decapitating her twin.

My eyes scanned the crowd again and landed on the poor scrawny bastard, tucked away in the corner with the rest of the studious, techy fuckers from our year, who would go on to college, and end up with high paying jobs. Those guys were so smart that they were kept tucked away in honor roll classes, and far away from the rest of us mere mortals; aka the thick fuckers like myself, Podge, and Alec, who would more likely than not end up taking up an apprenticeship and working with our hands.

I never put a lot of thought into the consequences of my flying fists, but I felt terrible for unleashing them on Kevin Molloy. Especially since he hadn’t breathed a word of what happened to either one of his parents, meaning that I got to keep my job at the garage. I had a feeling Molloy had a lot more to do with me keeping my job, considering her brother had never been my biggest fan.

My mind drifted back to that weird moment we had in her room on Saturday, and I had to repress a shiver.

Things had been different between us for a while now, deeper, since the day of my grandfather’s funeral when she surprised the hell out of me by showing up.

Her presence had thrown me, she had thrown me, and I wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or not.

Either way, having her put some distance between us today couldn’t be a bad thing.

The distance helped me to water down some of the fucked-up feelings she evoked inside of me.

“Jesus, did she get taller over the summer?” Alec hissed in a reverent tone, biting down on his fist. “Oh, fuck. Her legs look longer than usual.”

“It’s the shoes,” Podge offered up. “The higher the heel, the longer the leg.”

“What?” I chuckled, turning to look at him. “Where’d ya hear that?”

“No, he’s right, I’ve heard that, too,” Alec offered. “I think I read it in a magazine.”

“At the clinic?” Podge added.

“That’s right,” Alec agreed, slapping his hands together. “That’s where I read it.”

“The clinic?” I shook my head. “What the fuck were you two up to over the summer?”

“Same as you, Lynchy, boy,” Alec shot back with a wolfish grin. “Scoring and whoring.”

Doubtful.

My gaze drifted back to Molloy, and like a hundred times before, I caught her staring back at me.

Instead of the usual comical banter, she offered me a small wave instead.

I winked in response and had to bury my smile when her cheeks turned bright pink. She wasn’t blushing, though. It was something else. It was almost like she was excited. To see me.

Fuck, she was something else to look at.

“I can’t believe she’s still with that tosser,” Alec groaned, gesturing to Ricey, who was planted on the chair beside her, and all but glued to the girl’s hip. “How long have they been together now, three years?”

“Three and a half,” I heard myself answer. “On and off.”

“Well shit.” Alec released a despondent sigh. “He’s definitely riding her by now, right? “

Christ, I hoped not.