by Chloe Walsh
Unlike Aoife, I didn’t flinch at my brother's words.
They might be hard to hear, but they held nothing but the truth.
Joey's girlfriend was absolutely stunning with an envious figure, long blonde hair, and a beautiful face, but tonight she looked shook.
Aoife was in love with my brother, so I guessed that explained the horrified look on her face and the way she constantly stroked her fingers over the back of his hand.
"Let's see what we're dealing with," Joey said with a sigh.
Reaching into his jeans pocket, he pulled out his wallet, tossed it on the table, and then went back for the loose change rattling around in his jeans.
"I don’t get paid again until next Thursday," he muttered more to himself than us as he tipped the contents of his wallet on the table and began to count. "Which leaves us with exactly –" he paused to stack a few coins. "Eighty-seven euro and thirty cents for the next six days."
"That's good, right?" Aoife offered with forced optimism.
Joey nodded cautiously. "It should work."
"You know I'd help if I could," I croaked out, feeling like deadweight around my brother's neck. "But he won't let me get a job–"
"Stop," Joey commanded. "Don’t even think about taking on blame for this, Shan."
But I did.
I felt incredibly guilty.
There was something about me that caused all this pain.
If I wasn’t in this house, I was fairly sure my family wouldn’t have half the problems they did.
Mam took a beating from my father because of me.
Because he hated me.
I was the problem.
Joey exhaled heavily. "Check the fridge for me."
Reluctantly, I did as I was told.
Yanking the fridge open, I held the door out for Joey to see for himself.
"Fucking cunts," he growled once more, taking in the sight of the almost bare shelves inside the fridge.
"The cupboards are the same," I decided to fill in before he asked me to open those, too. "Mam usually does the shopping on a Saturday."
"Usually," Joey tossed out bitterly.
"She wouldn’t leave like this, Joe," I whispered. "She'd never leave us without the shopping."
"Well, she did," he snapped. "And it's grand, Shan. We'll manage."
"Okay," I croaked out.
Running a hand through his hair, Joey dropped his elbows on the table and muttered a few incoherent curse words to himself before saying, "I'll give Mark a buzz in the morning. He has a conservatory job lined up in the city next week. I'll ask if he needs a laborer."
"No way, Joey. You cannot miss school," Aoife admonished. "It's the leaving cert."
"No, babe," Joey replied wearily. "I can't let the kids go hungry, and god only knows when that bitch will come back."
"I can help you with –"
"I am not taking your money, Aoife," Joey cut her off by saying. "So please don’t offer."
"Joey, I want to help you."
"And I love you for that, but I'm not taking handouts from my girlfriend."
"Do you know where she is?" Aoife asked then, directing the question at me.
She was clearly desperate to comfort him and didn’t know how.
I wanted to tell her she couldn’t, we were too damaged, but I held my tongue and addressed her question instead. "I presume she's gone to find him."
It was a depressing thought, but more than likely the truth.
"Guys," Aoife said in a nervous tone. "Don’t bite my head off for this, but should you think about calling the authorities?"
Joey gaped at her like she had grown three heads.
Panic flared up inside of my chest.
Aoife, noticing our reactions, turned bright red.
"He can't keep doing this to you," she quickly explained. "And you're both here alone looking after three small children…It's not right or fair on any of you."
"No, it's not right or fair on us," Joey snapped. "But Shannon and I have been down that road before and there's no fucking way we're going back there."
"Joey!" I hissed, shaking my head.
"Look at us, Shan," he groaned. "She can already see how fucked up we are."
I knew that, but I continued to shake my head.
Ignoring my silent protests, Joey went into a full-on rant, revealing our biggest fear, the one that kept us silent for most of our lives.
"When we were small. Before the boys were born – when it was just Darren, Shannon, and myself – the three of us were put into care for six months."
Aoife's eyes widened and I smothered a groan. "You never told me that."
"It's not something I go around talking about, babe," he replied gruffly. "Besides, I was only six at the time." He inclined his head towards me and said, "Shan was only three. Mam placed us in voluntary care – said she was too sick to care for us at the time. Dropped us off and walked the fuck away. Shannon and I got lucky. We were placed together with a nice family." Exhaling heavily, he added, "Darren was eleven at the time and wasn’t so lucky."
Tears filled my eyes because I knew what Joey was going to say next.
"Joe, please don’t," I begged.
"He was sent to a care home where things happened to him," Joey choked out. "Things that aren’t supposed to happen to children."
Aoife clasped her hand over her mouth. "Are you saying…"
Joey nodded stiffly.
Tears filled her eyes. "Oh, baby."
"Don’t," he whispered, shaking his head. "It didn’t happen to me."
"I know," Aoife choked out, reaching for his hand. "I just…it's awful."
"Anyway, when Mam's health improved, she went to court and managed to get us back," he quickly hurried on. "It all came out in court about what happened in that care home, and because she'd voluntarily given us up because of 'health problems' she was somehow re-awarded custody." Joey stared down at their joined hands for a long moment before continuing. "Darren was never the same again, and neither was our father."
Sighing wearily, he added, "He actually wasn’t too bad a guy before that. But after it all came out about Darren, the old man lost his fucking mind. He couldn’t get over it and turned to the drink. Got this ridiculous fucking notion into his head that what happened to Darren had somehow turned him."
Joey shook his head and released a frustrated breath. "Had he paid an ounce of fucking attention to us growing up, he would have known better."
"I don’t know what to say," Aoife whispered, gaze flickering from me to Joey.
"It's not right what happens in this house but it's better than what's out there in some of those homes," Joey stated. "There's no fucking way I'm letting my sister and brothers go into care, babe. No goddamn way. At least when they're here, they're all in one place and I can keep them somewhat safe."
"Do you guys have someone you can call?" she asked, eyes laced with concern. "A relative or a family friend?"
"Nanny is eighty-one," I whispered, wiping my tears away. "She's too old and fragile to –"
"Myself and Shannon have each other," Joey interrupted, gesturing a finger between us. "That's it."
"Not anymore," Aoife told my brother. "You have me." Reaching across the table, she covered his hand with hers and smiled weakly. "All of you."
Joey's shoulders visibly sagged as she snatched her hand up and pressed his lips to her knuckles.
"Christ, I love you," he told her, voice low and gruff.
I turned away because it was too hard to watch.
I loved Aoife Molloy.
I truly loved the girl as a sister.
But I also resented her.
Because I knew exactly how appealing unconditional love, affection, and security was to someone like Joey.
It was the same for me.
And because I knew in my heart and soul exactly how this would pan out.
From her, Joey was receiving a form of love he'd been denied his whole life.
An
d if that girl jumped, he would jump right along with her.
I wouldn’t blame him.
Given the chance, I would jump, too.
But knowing that his time in this house was coming to an end made it hard for me to breathe.
I could feel it coming down the tracks like a freight train.
Our father would be back.
He always came back.
And I honestly couldn’t see my brother sticking around once he did.
He'd taken eighteen years of beatings and abuse.
I wasn’t sure he could take much more.
"Okay!" Aoife clapped her hands together and stood up. Sniffling, she wiped the tears from her cheeks away and forced a bright smile. "I am starving and I know you both must be, too. So, I am going to make a food run to the chipper and it will be my treat."
Joey shook his head. "Aoife, I told you –"
"My treat, babe," she interrupted, giving my brother a hard look. "Now, are you coming with me?"
"Yeah, I'll come," Joey muttered, climbing to his feet. "You're not driving around the town in the middle of the night by yourself."
"Will you be okay on your own, Shan?" Aoife asked, smiling sadly.
I nodded. "I'll be okay."
"What would you like to eat?"
"Nothing thanks," I replied, forcing down a yawn. "I'm going to head up to bed."
"Don’t tell me you're as stubborn as your brother and won't take a bloody bag of chips?" Aoife frowned. "You're too skinny, girl," she added, concern laced in her eyes again. "We need to put some meat on those bones."
I smiled at her flustered expression. "I'm honestly too tired to eat."
"If you're sure?" She didn’t sound convinced.
"I am."
"We won't be long, Shan," Joey called over his shoulder as he led Aoife out of the kitchen.
"Take your time," I called back. "The boys are fine and I'll be in bed."
I waited until I heard the key turn in the lock before tip-toeing up to bed.
Slipping inside my bedroom, I didn’t bother switching on the light.
I wasn’t lying when I was said I was tired.
Crawling up my bed, I shuffled under my duvet and snuggled up, knowing that I would sleep better tonight now that my parents were gone than I had in months.
That's how messed up my life was.
31
Bitchy girls and Burger Breath
Johnny
The minute I stepped foot inside Biddies, I knew I had made a terrible mistake.
Scratch that: the minute I let Gibsie open that bottle of my Da's whiskey, I knew I had made a terrible mistake.
After my shower, I tried to persuade him to have a few drinks at home with me instead of going out, but whiskey made me compliant.
It turned me into an agreeable, bleeding eejit.
Which was exactly how Gibsie had managed to coax me out of my bad mood, into what he called my 'shifting jacket', and into the passenger seat of his car.
I should've known better when he wasn’t drinking with me.
Fucker.
Drip-feeding me Jameson was the reason I was currently standing in the doorway of Biddies Bar, three drinks past tipsy, and wishing I was anywhere but this goddamn pub.
Not only were half the girls from sixth year inside.
But so was Bella.
The minute Bella noticed us, she caught ahold of a nervous looking Cormac and welded her face to his.
Whatever semblance of enthusiasm I had churned up for tonight being a bit of craic had flown out the window at the sight of her.
Not so much because she was scoring with Cormac in front of me, though that didn’t help, but because I was still peppering with anger over the way she carried on at school yesterday.
All I wanted her to do was go away.
Just go away and leave me alone.
In all honesty, I didn’t think that was too much to ask for.
"Ignore them," Gibsie muttered in my ear.
"Kinda hard all things considered," I shot back, gesturing to where my former whatever-the-hell-she-was mauled the face off my winger less than ten feet from me.
I instantly felt my brain kick to life and start the sobering-up process because I knew exactly how dangerous this girl was, and dammit, I needed to be in my full senses to defend myself.
"Understandable," Gibs said in agreement. "At least you know the show's for your benefit."
"I don’t want it to be for my benefit. I want her to fuck off," I growled, repressing a shudder at the sight. "Please tell me that I never carried on like that with her."
"Well, I don’t know how you carried on behind closed car doors," Gibs replied. "But you never let yourself down like that in public."
"Thank Christ," I muttered.
"Come on, Johnny." Clamping a hand on my shoulder, Gibsie steered me towards the table we usually sat at. "Sit down. I'll get a round of pints in."
"Vodka, Gibs," I corrected, knowing I was going to need something a hell of a lot stronger than the beer that what was on tap to get through tonight. "A double vodka and red bull– and a shit load of shots."
Fuck getting sober.
I was going all out.
Gibsie could take care of me for once.
"I'm on it, buddy," Gibsie chuckled before disappearing into the crowd.
Ignoring the table of girls from school who had conveniently positioned themselves at the table next to ours, a table that included Bella and Cormac, I slumped down beside Hughie and his girlfriend, Katie Wilmot.
"Hughie," I muttered by way of acknowledgement.
I eyed the bottle of 7up with a straw sticking out the rim that Hughie's girlfriend was clutching and my lips twitched.
"Alright, Cap?" Hughie acknowledged with a loose smile. "How was training?"
I grunted my response, too sore and uncomfortable to make an effort and lie.
It was shite.
Everything was shite.
My world was going to shite.
And tonight's spectacle was the cherry to top it all off.
"Feely coming out tonight?"
Hughie shook his head. "Nah, lad. Something came up."
"No surprises there," I replied knowingly.
"You're telling me," Hughie replied with a weary sigh.
Patrick was a quiet fish, and even though we'd been friends for the bones of seven years, I didn’t know a great deal about him aside from the fact that he was evasive, quiet, and had a tendency to back out of plans at the last minute.
After catching up with Hughie, I inclined my head to the pretty, little redhead tucked into his side. "Katie."
"Hi, Johnny," Katie said with a shy smile as she huddled under Hughie's arm.
No fucking wonder you're huddling, I thought to myself.
I'd huddle, too, if I was a shy, sixteen-year-old girl being subjected to the horrendous mouthfucking at the other table.
Katie was too young to be in a bar, we all were, but kudos to my friend for having the decency to not fill her up with booze.
Not that I thought for one minute that he would.
For some unknown reason, Hughie was obsessed with the tiny redhead under his arm.
Had been since she walked through the doors of Tommen as a fresh faced first year.
We had been in second year when Hughie threw his cards in with Katie Wilmot.
At the time, I – along with every other one of our friends and teammates – had thought Hughie was a lunatic and had voiced my thoughts aloud regularly.
But now that I had age and experience on my side, I had to admit that his situation seemed a hell of a lot more appealing than mine.
Devotion had to feel better than being used did.
"You're looking well tonight, Katie," I told her, because it was the truth and she was insecure.
I knew this tidbit of information because her boyfriend often confided in me about their relationship.
I probably knew far more about their relationship
than Katie would be comfortable with, but I'd take those details to the grave.
Katie smiled shyly and snuggled closer into Hughie's side. "Thanks."
Hughie shot me a grateful look.
He didn’t need to thank me for shit.
His girlfriend was beautiful.
Gibsie rounded the table a few moments later, distracting me with a tray laden down with glasses.
"Bottoms up, Cap," he announced, slapping the tray down in front of me.
"Cheers." Not bothering to ask what was on offer tonight, knowing I'd drink petrol with the mood I was in, I grabbed two shot glasses off the tray and tossed them back.
And then, for good measure, I threw back another four shots before settling on my vodka and red bull.
I needed it because watching the floorshow occurring at the table next to ours wasn’t fun.
From where I was sitting, I had a perfect view of Bella straddling Cormac.
He had his hands under her skirt, and her legs were wrapped around his waist.
They might as well be naked and shagging they were being that bleeding obvious.
Propping himself on the stool in front of me, Gibs thankfully blocked my view.
"I'm prettier to look at," he announced with a wink and then proceeded to toss back shots like it was going out of fashion.
I could always depend on this fucker.
Hail, rain, or snow, Gibsie had my back.
That was a comforting notion.
"Ryan's a clown," Hughie, reading my thoughts, stated aloud. "She's doing this on purpose to get a rise out of you, and he's letting her use him to do it."
"You had a lucky escape, Johnny," Katie agreed with a sympathetic smile.
I shrugged and reached for another shot.
"She can do whatever she wants." Pressing the glass to my lips, I tossed the drink back and swallowed quickly. "They both can."
I meant it.
I didn’t want her back.
I would never go back there.
But that didn’t mean that this was easy to watch.
Because it wasn’t.
It was an intentional attack and it stung.
Mostly because Cormac was going along with it.
"Yeah, but rubbing it in your face like this is disgusting," Katie replied, frowning at the pair. "If the shoe was on the other foot, and you did that with one of Bella's friends right in front of her, she would lose it."