Taming 7 (Boys of Tommen Book 5)

Taming 7: Chapter 18



“You know, when you asked me for an old pallet from the farm, I should have known it was for one of your harebrained schemes,” Feely declared. We were in my back garden after school, surrounded by power tools, saws, and pieces of chopped timber. “This is strange, Gibs. Even for you.”

“No, it’s not strange,” I argued, balancing a nail between my teeth, while I hammered another one into the wooden house I’d spent most of the evening crafting. “It’s the height of levelheadedness.”

“Care to explain the method to this particular brand of madness?”

“It’s getting cold. Reggie is going to need someplace warm to hibernate.”

“You know, if you freed the poor creature, he’d do it for himself.”

“Not according to our vet, he won’t. He’s been handled too much. Reggie doesn’t know that he’s a hedgehog. He was only a baby when we rescued him. He won’t survive a winter in the wild.”

“You know wild hedgehogs carry diseases, don’t you?” he pointed out, leaning against the closed patio door. “You really shouldn’t keep him on your lap like that, lad.”

“For the last time, Reginald isn’t diseased!” I snapped. “He’s as clean as a whistle. Same as me.”

“Same as you?” he laughed. “Is that supposed to reassure me?”

“Don’t mind him, son,” I grumbled, returning my attention to the task at hand, while my little buddy burrowed into the fabric of my gray sweatpants. “Daddy’s going to build you a better hibernaculum than any of the other hedgehogs.”

“At least use gloves when you’re handling him.”

“What’s with the judgement, Patrick?” I snapped. “I asked you to help me because you’re the best of us at woodwork and you’ve always been the least judgmental of the lads. Or so I thought.”

“I’m not judging you, Gibs,” he chuckled, coming to sit down on the patio beside me. “Here.” Taking the hammer out of my hand, he retrieved a nail and set to work on the felt roof. “Let’s make sure your son’s hibernaculum is waterproof.”

I grinned. “Thanks, lad.”

“Question,” he said a little while later, when the felt roof had been neatly tacked into place. “Have you noticed anything out of the ordinary with Liz?”

“Liz?” I turned to gape at him. “As in viper Liz?”

He nodded.

“Hell no, I haven’t noticed anything out of the ordinary with her. In fact, I try my best not to notice her at all,” I replied, appalled that he would ask me such a question. “In case it skipped your attention, lad, that witch hates my guts.”

“Come on, Gibs,” he tried to reason. “Don’t call her that. She was your friend once.”

“Yeah, and look where it got me,” I shot back defensively. “Directly in the firing line of her poisonous tongue.”

“I’m not defending anything she’s done to you down through the years,” he said carefully. “Because she’s been well out of order.”

“But?” I bit out, just knowing there was a but to this bullshit.

“But I really feel like there’s a conversation that needs to happen between you both. One that’s long overdue.”

I simply stared, unblinking, unable to form any words to respond to this bullshit.

“Come on, Gibs,” he pushed. “Try to see where I’m coming from here.”

“I can’t,” I replied, placing Reggie inside his little house. “Probably because I’m blinded by the sheer height of betrayal!”

“She’s not a bad person,” he called after me when I stood up and moved for the door. “She’s just hurt.”

“We’re all hurt, lad,” I snapped, yanking the patio door open and storming inside. “Some of us don’t take it out on everyone else.”

“You know what they say Mark did to Caoimhe,” Feely said, following me inside a thankfully empty kitchen. “I know he’s not your brother, Gibs – I know that, okay. But she believes the rumors. She thinks he’s responsible and if you and Liz have a conversation about it, I think it might really help her to heal.”

“Thinks!” I snapped, slamming the fridge door closed. “Last time I checked, thinking something wasn’t the same as knowing something, Patrick!”

“Come on, Gibs,” he tried to plead. “We’ve all heard the rumors, lad.” Leaning against the island, he added, “Half the town thinks he raped her.”

“Apparently not the half that contain the Gards,” I shot back, bristling. “Because they cleared him after questioning!”

“It’s hard to prove a dead girl’s story.”

“Agreed,” I countered, feeling cold to the bone. “Especially when it’s complete bullshit.”

“So, you think Mark’s completely innocent in all of it?” he argued. “You don’t feel like he has any hand in Lizzie’s sister jumping off the bridge that night?”

“I didn’t say that,” I snapped, hating the tremor in my voice.

“Exactly!” he urged. “Because you know as well as she does that there’s something to this. Come on, Gibs, think about it, lad. There’s no smoke without fire—”

“No!” I roared back at him. “No, I won’t think about it, Patrick, because I don’t fucking want to, okay? Because I’m done with thinking about it. Done with being blamed for it. I’m just fucking done, okay!”

“Okay.” He held his hands up, brows furrowed. “Okay, Gibs, relax. I won’t bring it up again. Just take it down a notch, lad.”

“Thanks for helping build Reggie’s hibernaculum,” I replied flatly, moving for the back door.

“Wait, Gibs … ”

“You should go now,” I deadpanned, closing the patio door before he could follow me outside.

“Word on the street is you threw Feely out on his ass earlier,” a familiar voice said a little while later.

“Word on the street would be right.”

“Care to explain?”

“Nope.”

“So, you’re still pissed?”

“Yep.”

“Shit.” Closing my bedroom door behind him, Hugh strolled over to the beanbag in my room and sank down. “He must have done something fairly terrible to get on your bad side, Gibs.”

“Oh please.” Rolling my eyes, I tossed my rugby ball into the air before catching it. “Don’t pretend like Feely didn’t rush across the street to fill you in the minute I told him to fuck off. You two are as thick as thieves.”

“Kind of like you and Cap?”

“Exactly like me and Cap,” I agreed. “Which is how I know he went straight to you with the drama.”

It wasn’t that deep with Feely. By tomorrow, the whole thing would be long forgotten about, but for now, I was still in my feels.

“I wasn’t going to deny it,” Hugh replied calmly. “I just figured I’d come and check on you.”

“Why bother wasting your time?” I replied, spinning the ball out once more. “I’m always okay.”

“True,” Hugh said in an even tone. “Except for when you’re not.”

I didn’t have an answer to that, so I remained silent.

“Gibs.” A heavy sigh escaped him. “Talk to me, lad.”

“About what?”

“Maybe you could start with whatever it is that makes you shut down like this.”

Pulling up on my elbow, I turned to look at him. “Do I look shut down?”

“Yes,” he shot back without a hint of hesitation. “Given the fact that I’ve known you every day of your life, I would say yeah, you’re clearly in shutdown mode.” He kept his brown eyes locked on mine when he said, “This is about Lizzie.”

My blood ran cold. “No.”

“Come on, Gibs.”

“Jesus Christ.” Frustration filled my chest to the point where I wanted to rip the four walls off this fucking house. “Why does everything have to be about her?”

“It doesn’t.” S~ᴇaʀᴄh the FɪndNøvel.ɴet website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

“According to you and Feely it does.”

“No,” Hugh tried to reason. “Feely told me what happened. What he was trying to do, and I get it. I know she’s not been the best person to you in the past, but … ”

“Listen, lad, I get that you and Pa have had this weird attachment to the viper since forever, but I don’t want a damn thing to do with it,” I quickly cut him off by saying. “I’m not her friend, I’m not her punching bag, I’m not her fucking anything. So, whatever issues she’s having, don’t come around here projecting them onto me, because in the words of Rhett Butler, frankly, I don’t give a damn!”

Hugh was quiet for a long time before finally rising to his feet. “You care, Gibs.” He moved for the door. “You don’t want to care, but you do,” he added quietly. “Same as the rest of us.”

“Same as you, more like.”

He didn’t deny it.

“You’re a glutton for punishment, Biggs,” I called after him.

“Right back at you, Gibson,” he called back. “Now, hurry your ass up and get out of your bad mood. Mam’s setting the table for dinner.”

Instantly, my stomach was on high alert. “What’s on the menu?”

“Your favorite.”

“Bacon and cabbage?”

“With roast potatoes.”

Dammit.


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