by Chloe Walsh
Not right now, at least.
He was a pawn in one of Bella's games and even though I was drunk, I could see that as clear as day.
"Listen to me," I began, striving not to slur my words as I tried to give him some hard-learned home truths. "I've been in this game a long fucking time and I know what's happening here. Bella's using you to get to me and you're letting her make an eejit out of you."
Only God himself knew why I was giving him advice after stabbing me in the back, but I continued.
"She can't have me anymore and you're the next best thing," I slurred. "It's money for that one, Ryan. Money and status." Shaking my head, I added, "Fighting with your teammate over a fucking girl is the beginning of the end. Go down that path and it's over for you before it has even started."
Even in my drunken state, I knew I was making a hypocritical fucking statement.
I justified my reasons with the knowledge that Shannon was worth it.
Bella was not.
Cormac glowered at me. "You think you're better than me."
Was he serious?
Was that all he took from my effort of helping him?
"I am better than you," I snapped, frustrated that he wasn’t listening to me. "If you want to be on my level, then step it up on the pitch. Work harder. Train harder. Be fucking better. And open your goddamn eyes to danger. Because that so-called girlfriend of yours will bleed you dry, lad."
"She is my girlfriend," he snarled. "So don’t talk about her like that."
God, give me strength…
"Fine." I threw my hands up. "Keep your girlfriend away from mine and we'll be rosy."
"You don’t have a girlfriend," he replied slowly, expression laced with confusion.
"Me," I corrected, flustered at the word spill. "Keep her away from me and we won't have a problem."
"So, what happens now?" Cormac asked, face contorted in a pained grimace. "Are we going to have a problem playing together after this?"
"No."
"No." His brows shot up. "Why not?"
"Because I'm not thick enough to let a girl like that fuck with my head," I bit out. "You're a decent winger and the team needs you. I'd be a selfish bastard if I allowed my personal issues to impact the squad."
"And Bella?" Cormac asked after a long pause. "Are you going to cause problems with her?"
"Because you're with her? No," I told him. "If she fucks with Shannon? Absolutely."
"Shannon?"
"Yes, Shannon," I bit out, tone harsh now.
Cormac stared blankly. "Who's Shannon?"
"Shannon is the reason you're going to end up with a broken jaw."
"The hell?"
"Bella was threatening to go after her," I snarled. "If that happens, I will fuck you up."
He blanched. "Why me?"
"Can't hit a girl which means I'll be coming for the next best thing," I explained. "So, bear in mind that every single time your Bella decides to make a threat, spread a nasty rumor, or fuck with my Shannon, I'll return the favor on your face. Every single, goddamn time."
Cormac visibly paled, and the visual, although slightly hazy, was extremely satisfying.
"Good," I grunted, pulling my phone out of my pocket to call a taxi. "Glad we understand each other."
Shaking my head, I blinked a couple of times to clear my vision as I pulled up my phonebook and dialed the number labeled Fat Paddy.
Fucking Gibsie.
I should have known better than to leave my phone alone with him when I went for a shower.
The last time he got ahold of my phone, he renamed my mother Sugar Tits and Bella Devil Pussy.
It was all shits and giggles until Sugar Tits texted me in the middle of the night, demanding I come downstairs and unlock the front door because she was standing outside and wanted to come inside.
Not knowing who the hell was texting me, I had replied with more profanities than I cared to think about before threatening to call the Gardaí – on my own bleeding mother.
Talk about a clusterfuck of a misunderstanding.
"Do you want to shake it out?" Cormac asked, distracting me from my mission to get my drunk ass home, as he extended his hand towards me.
"Get that fucking thing away from me." I scowled at his hand as I put my phone to my ear. "I know where it's been."
His expression darkened, but he had the good sense not to push his luck for the night.
With a stiff nod, Cormac turned around and walked back inside the bar.
When Fat Paddy's number rang off, I tried five more times before giving up.
Taxi's around here turned their phones off on Saturday nights when it got busy, and from the sheer volume of people about the streets tonight, I knew I'd be waiting a long fucking time to get home.
Frustrated, I turned my attention back to my phone and scrolled through my contacts, looking for Hughie's name.
"That little bollox," I cursed when I realized that Gibsie had once again changed the name of every single contact on my list.
Sugar Tits and Devil Pussy were once against present in my contacts, along with new ones like Big Daddy G, Fanny Flaps, Call if Arrested, Do Not Call if Arrested, and my personal favorite: Judas Iscari-cunt.
Clicking into that particular contact, I recognized the number as being Cormac's.
He could stay like that.
Devil Pussy, too.
I spent a ridiculous amount of time trying to find Hughie's number because I couldn’t figure out who was bleeding who in my phone.
After accidentally dialing the contact Casual Sex and hearing Coach Mulcahy's voice on the other line, I quickly hung up.
Cancelling another incoming call from King Clit, because who in their right mind would answer a number listed as that, I switched off my phone and shoved it back in my pocket.
Morose, I made my way across the road to the chip shop and ordered half a dozen cheeseburgers and two bags of chips.
No need to watch my diet now.
Not when my body was hellbent on giving up on me.
Slumping on a wall outside the chipper, I devoured everything and chugged it down with a bottle of water.
The grease tasted foreign to me, and I knew I would pay for it tomorrow, but for now I didn’t care.
"Johnny Kavanagh?" a vaguely familiar voice called my name. "Is that you?"
I snapped my gaze up to see a tall lad about my age looking expectantly at me.
He had his arm slung over the shoulder of an attractive blonde.
Fan or friend?
Friend or fan?
I tried to place the face and couldn’t, so decided on fan.
"No pictures tonight, kids," I bit out, tone slurred. "Johnny's on a time-out."
The guy laughed but made no move to shove a camera in my face, which was just as well considering my current condition.
Instead he shocked the hell out of me by saying, "I spoke to you on the phone the other week. You know my sister, Shannon. You dropped her home from school."
My head snapped up and I found myself concentrating a whole heap more on the lad in front of me.
"You're the hurler–" I paused and racked my brain for his name. "Joey!" I blurted out, proud of myself for managing to retrieve that piece of information in my state. "Joey the hurler and Shannon like the river."
"Like the river?" the girl chuckled. "God, how much have you had to drink?"
"A river load by the looks of it," Joey stated wryly, eyeing me with curiosity. "Do you think you should head home, man?" he added. "You look fairly well oiled."
"Would if I could," I admitted with a grumble. "No taxi."
"Sure we can give you a lift, can't we, babe?" the girl announced, pointing down the street. "We're only parked down the road."
I opened my mouth to protest but, "That'd be great, thanks," came out instead.
"Yeah, sure, no problem," Joey agreed, looking a bit surprised. He shifted uncomfortably for a minute then inclined his head. "Let's go."
Slamming my shoulder against the wall, I managed to keep my balance as I followed after them.
Thankfully, the girl who I presumed was Joey's girlfriend, wasn’t messing when she said they were only parked down the road.
Another few stumbling feet and we reached the red Opal Corsa.
At least that's what I thought it was.
It was hard to tell because my head was spinning and the car was a bucket of rust.
Fuck it, though, I was in no state to question their methods of traveling.
I was beyond grateful for the lift.
"I'm Aoife Molloy, by the way," the girl announced, giving me a bright smile before making her way around to the passenger side of the car. "Joey the hurler's girlfriend." She snickered at that last bit before climbing into the front seat.
"Nice to meet you," I replied, keeping my weight against the wall while Joey opened the driver's side door and then rolled the seat forward.
"Three door," he said by way of explanation. "You're going to have to climb into the back."
"It's fine, lad." I pulled away from the wall and braced my weight against the car before wedging myself through the tiny space.
My efforts were about as effective as sailing a paper boat because Joey had to shove on my back to get me inside.
"Christ," I muttered when I was finally in.
Sinking down in the middle of the seat, I had to twist my body sideways, my legs facing the side window, so Joey could push back his seat.
"You good, Kavanagh?" he called out when he climbed inside and pushed his seat back another five inches.
"All good," I croaked out, body mashed between the back of his seat and mine. "Thanks again for the lift."
"No bother," Joey replied. He leaned over and pressed a kiss to his girlfriend's lips before fastening his seatbelt. "Where are we heading?"
Straight to your house because I wanna fuck your sister, I thought to myself, smirked at the fabulous notion, and then hunted the crazy thought away with a shake of my head.
Probably love her, too, I mused to myself, a fucking lot, before pushing that madness out as well.
Cop yourself on, asshole!
"About four miles the other side of Tommen College," I slurred.
I tried to find my seatbelt, but my fumbling hands wouldn’t cooperate.
"Head out the main road for the city." Giving up on finding my belt, I dropped my head back against the rest and sighed. "I'll call the turn offs when we get to them."
"No bother."
He started the engine and had just pulled onto the road when I felt the car brake suddenly.
"What the fuck?" Joey barked seconds before two hands slammed down on the hood of his car. "Get off my car, asshole!"
"You're stealing my Center," Gibsie roared in the window as he leaned over the hood of the car. "Give him back." His eyes darted from Joey to me, recognition sparking. "Hey, Cap." He grinned, head lolling to one side. "How's it going? I've been looking everywhere for you."
"And this clown is?" Joey asked, tone derisive, attention locked on Gibsie who was having a one-way conversation with me through the windscreen of his car.
"He's my Flanker," I grumbled before turning my attention back to the man-child hugging the bonnet. "Gibs! What the fuck are you doing, lad!" I barked, glaring out the windscreen. "You're supposed to be gone home with Hughie?"
"The Gards pulled him over for tax and insurance," he called back through the windscreen like that answered my question.
I gaped. "So? Hughie's above board."
"He looked at me, Johnny – shone his big fucking torch right in my eyes," he called back. "I panicked and jumped out of the car." Shrugging, he added, "I've been running around town ever since." He narrowed his eyes. "I tried to call you but you kept cutting me off!"
I glared at him. "You're King Clit?"
"Oh, yeah," Gibsie snickered. "I forgot about that."
"What's Hughie down as?"
"Ginger Pubes," he replied like it was the most obvious thing ever.
It wasn’t.
"He's blond," I growled.
"His girlfriend isn’t."
"Jesus Christ," I groaned, rubbing my forehead.
"What do you want me to do with him?" Joey asked.
I shrugged and contemplated telling him to drive over the annoying fucker, but then I knew I would be terribly lonely without him.
And in all fairness, he had taken a few slaps defending my honor tonight.
"I should probably bring him back to my place," I begrudgingly admitted. "Or a secured hospital."
Joey muttered something incoherent under his breath and climbed out.
It sounded something like 'you two fuckers better not puke in this car.'
I was making no promises.
My buddy was a projector.
Pulling on the seat, Joey dragged it forward and instructed an intoxicated Gibsie to climb in.
He did.
But instead of climbing or crawling inside, the bastard lunged into the backseat.
"Fuck!" I roared, doubling over in pain when his elbow landed in my crotch.
There goes your last shot right there…
"Shit, man, did I get your dick?" Gibsie slurred as he tried and failed to climb over me. "I'll get ice for your balls when we get home."
"Get. Off. Me," I strangled out, fairly sure I was turning purple from the pain, as he climbed over the seat, digging and kneeing me with his elbows and knees.
Finally, he managed to drag his ass over to the other side of the seat.
"Christ," he mused, settling down alongside me. "That's the tightest hole I've been inside in months."
Joey climbed back in and started the engine before quickly tearing off down the street.
"I hope there's not any more of you," he said. "The car's weighing down at the back."
"Sorry," I began to say but was cut off by Gibsie.
"It's his fault – the fat bastard," he announced. Turning to face me, he added, "Hey, is your dick okay, man? I'm really sorry about that. I hope I didn’t squash your balls."
I narrowed my eyes at him. "Go fuck yourself, Gerard."
"I was being sincere, Jonathon," he shot back, wounded. "For that, you can get your own bloody ice tonight – hold up!"
Grabbing the front of my shirt, he dragged me towards him and sniffed my mouth.
"You traitor!" he choked out, looking comically horrified. "You went to the chipper!"
"Yeah, I did," I replied, shoving away from him. "And it was fucking delicious, and I have no regrets."
"What did you have?"
"A few cheeseburgers and a curry-chips."
"How did it taste?"
"Better than sex."
"We're supposed to be on a diet!" Gibsie hissed in an appalled tone before quickly asking, "Did you get me something?"
"Yeah, I got you a burger."
"Thanks, Johnny."
"And then I got hungry so I ate it."
"You're a monster."
"You two are so weird," Aoife laughed. "Aren't they funny, Joey?"
"They're something, alright," Shannon's brother replied.
"Hey." Suddenly realizing he was in the company of strangers, Gibsie leaned through the middle of their seats and asked, "Who the fuck are you guys?"
"Johnny's friends with my boyfriend's sister," Aoife explained.
"Sister?" The word seemed to confuse Gibsie, who stared blankly at me for several moments.
Throwing a prayer up to the heavens that he could control himself, I nodded and said, "Shannon."
Gibsie sank back beside me and frowned. "Shannon?"
"Yes, Shannon." I glared at him.
Gibsie's eyes widened then, awareness suddenly dawning on him.
"Oh, Shannon!" he exclaimed. "Ah, yeah, little Shannon from third year." Grinning, he nudged me in the ribs. "Johnny here has a fierce soft spot for your sister."
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"Is that right?" Joey replied tightly.
Oh fuck.
"Yeah, he's always looking out for her at school," Gibsie added with a wink. "Making sure she's not getting into any hassle."
I bit back a groan and resisted the urge to wrap my hands around his neck and choke the life out of him.
To be fair, it could have been worse.
Gibsie was capable of saying so much worse.
"That's lovely," Aoife chimed in, and I noticed the way she placed a hand on her boyfriend's knee. "Isn't it kind of him, Joe?"
"Why?" Joey demanded, tone hard and suspicious. "What's in it for you?"
I sighed heavily and tried to come up with something believable.
"Because I fucked her –"
"You what?" Joey roared, slamming on the brakes.
The sudden jolt of the car stopping caused Gibsie and me to lunge forwards.
Turning around, Joey glared at me. "You better be messing around right now, Kavanagh, because I swear to Christ I will –"
"Over!" I hurried to explain, dragging myself back onto the seat. "I fucked her over on her first day. Embarrassed her on the pitch when I knocked her out."
But I want to fuck her...
I want in your sister so bad you wouldn’t believe it...
The things I imagine doing to her would shock you…
I waited for the homicidal look in his eyes to fade before continuing.
"I figured I owed the girl, so I just kept an eye out on things – made sure she was settling in okay. It's not easy starting a new school." Shrugging, I added, "Didn’t want her getting any unnecessary shite."
I was a sitting duck waiting for her brother to make the next move.
If Joey hit me, I wouldn’t hit back.
I wouldn’t retaliate.
That was the scary thing about this situation.
Sitting in his car, drunk off my ass, knowing that I was more than capable of beating the shite out of him, but knowing I wouldn’t.
Because of her.
Because he was important to her.
Because if I hit him, I would hurt her.
And hurting her was bad.
Hurting her made me want to hurt something harder.
That notion was more messed up and complicated than my drunk ass could comprehend.
Joey didn’t reply, but he did turn his attention to the road and start driving again.