Binding_13_Boys of Tommen

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Binding_13_Boys of Tommen Page 32

by Chloe Walsh


  "Relax," Johnny whispered in my ear, distracting me from my memories. "You're safe with me."

  His words threw me and I turned my face to look at him.

  God, he was just so beautiful, it was painful.

  Everything about Johnny Kavanagh was pure perfection.

  He was big and strong, and his face?

  Oh god, his face was the best face I had ever laid eyes on.

  "Why wouldn’t I be safe?" It was a defensive question asked out of desperation because this boy was throwing me like no one had before.

  I couldn’t figure any of this out, and my poor heart was working in overdrive to keep up with the feelings bombarding my body because of his close proximity.

  Fear, uncertainty, lust, and panic were all kicking my ass.

  "I'm just letting you know that you are," he replied, blue eyes locked on mine. "Okay?"

  Exhaling a ragged breath, I nodded and shifted closer to him.

  If I could, I would climb on his lap and bury my face in his chest in this moment, but he was a virtual stranger to me and that would be socially frowned upon, so I settled for sidling up to him.

  I knew he probably thought I was crazy, but I was two seconds away from having a full-blown panic attack and his presence was grounding me.

  Johnny looked at me with curious eyes before turning his attention to the table of sixth years from BCS.

  I saw it then, a spark of recognition lit up Johnny's eyes before his face took on a hardened expression.

  "Can we go now?" I whispered, heart beating rapidly as I resisted the urge to burrow into his side. "Please?"

  "We'll go when we're ready to go," he said in a voice so low and soft that it was barely audible. "Put your head up, Shannon like the river." Moments later, he draped his arm over my shoulder and pulled me into his side. "No one's going to hurt you."

  Relieved, I moved closer, too close for strangers to sit, but I didn’t care.

  He was big and strong and I got the distinct feeling that he was telling me the truth.

  I believed him when he told me I was safe with him.

  "Those girls?" he asked, tilting his face down to look at me as he spoke. "What's the story?"

  "There's no story," I croaked out, clutching my bottle with a death grip.

  "Why do I find that hard to believe?"

  I shrugged and ducked my chin, letting my hair fall forward, wishing I had Harry Potter's invisibility cloak draped around my body so I could escape this situation without more pain.

  I couldn’t take anymore.

  "Look at me."

  I didn’t.

  "Look at me," he repeated, tone calm and coaxing.

  I couldn’t.

  I felt him shift beside me and then his fingers were on my chin, tipping my face up to his.

  "You're safe," he whispered, cupping my cheek in his hand, eyes boring holes straight through my soul. "I promise."

  That word.

  God.

  That one word broke me.

  It was all too much.

  My life.

  Those girls.

  My father.

  And in the middle of it all, I could only see him.

  This boy.

  27

  Keep the head

  Johnny

  What possessed me to bring Shannon to Biddies, I would never fully understand, but she was here now, and looking more upset than when I'd found her throwing her guts up at school an hour ago.

  So was I.

  I was trying to mask my fury, but I swear to god I was close to killing someone.

  Genuinely.

  Truly.

  Abso-fucking-lutely.

  Shannon was petrified of these girls.

  Her body was shaking.

  Shaking.

  Which was why she was currently tucked into my side with my arm wrapped tightly around her frail shoulders.

  I knew I was stepping over serious lines here, but I refused to let her run from these fuckers.

  I knew I shouldn’t be touching her, but how the hell could I not?

  How could I just leave her sitting there, looking so frightened and unsure?

  I couldn’t.

  To be honest, it was a good thing she was touching me because I was about two seconds away from blowing a head gasket and getting my ass thrown in the barracks.

  This wasn’t me.

  I wasn’t a reactor.

  I thought shit through.

  Not when it comes to this girl...

  The blonde in the BCS uniform across the lounge caught my eye again and smiled.

  I met her smile with a cold, hard glare and reveled in a sick sort of pleasure when her smile slipped away and fear filled her eyes.

  Be fucking frightened, I thought to myself, you have no idea of who you're messing with.

  I could ruin these people.

  I wanted to.

  Every cell in my brain was projecting nothing but rage and vengeance, demanding I take back what they took from Shannon.

  Take their pride like they took hers.

  Scare them like they scared her.

  Inflict pain on them like they tortured her.

  I could taste my anger.

  It was fucking potent.

  Dammit, I needed to get a handle on myself, but every time I tried, I just kept thinking about her file.

  Were one of these bitches the ones that cut off her ponytail?

  I had a bad feeling about the blonde.

  Another issue I was having that was going to make me lose my fucking mind was the way these pricks were eyeing her up.

  Longingly.

  They needed to avert their bleeding eyes from this girl because I couldn’t handle it.

  They didn’t need to be looking in her direction.

  Ever.

  I had my arm around her, for Christ's sake.

  Take a bleeding hint.

  No wonder the blonde was pissed, I thought to myself. The dark-haired gimp was clearly going out with her and yet he was staring at Shannon like she was dinner.

  My dinner, prick, I wanted to roar.

  "I'm ready to go now," Shannon said, dragging me from my thoughts and my stare-down with the dark-haired prick gawking at her from across the lounge.

  She set her empty bottle on the table and looked up at me with those big, blue eyes. "If that's okay?"

  Settle down, heart.

  Settle the fuck down.

  I forced a smile. "Yeah, Shannon, that's okay."

  For obvious reasons, I kept my arm around her as we walked past the table of assholes from her old school. I didn’t miss the way her fingers knotted in my jumper, or how her whole body stiffened when one of the girls made some backhanded comment about whores chasing rich dick.

  Keeping my head, I walked her out of the lounge and then pulled her to a stop at the bar. "Can you do me a favor?"

  Shannon looked up at me with wide-eyes, nodding. "Yeah. Of course."

  I pulled my wallet and keys out of my pocket and handed them to her. "Can you settle up with the barmaid and go wait in the car for me?"

  Her face paled. "Why?"

  "I need to talk to one of my friends," I lied, smiling down at her. "I'll be right out."

  She eyed me warily for a long moment before blowing out a breath. "Sure," she finally said, sounding relieved. "I can do that."

  "Thanks," I replied.

  I waited until Shannon had moved to the bar before spinning on my heels and stalking back into the lounge, not stopping until I was standing in front of the table of assholes.

  "Now," I sneered, glaring down at their faces. "Who wants to call my girlfriend a whore to my face?"

  I threw in the girlfriend word for maximum effect to align with the maximum damage I was about to cause.

  Several heads turned my way and I did not give one iota of a fuck.

  Someone was going to pay for her pain.

  "Well?" I demanded, glaring at the blonde. "You?" I asked before flicking my
gaze to the redhead sitting beside her. "Or is it you?"

  "Listen, I don’t know what she said to you," the blonde began to say, but I cut her off with a shake of my head.

  "Is this your fella?" I asked, inclining my head to the dark-haired prick who was ogling Shannon less than five minutes ago, yet had turned conveniently quiet now. "Is he?"

  The blonde's face reddened and she nodded.

  "That's good to know," I mused, and then I reached over the table, fisted his school jumper, and slammed my fist into his face.

  "What the fuck are you doing?" the lad snarled, doubling over.

  "I'm playing by the rules, asshole," I spat as I dragged him out over the table and hit him again.

  Both girls started screaming and flailing around.

  One of his friends made to move towards me.

  "I fucking dare ya," I snarled, as I continued to smack the shit out of his buddy.

  He took a safe step back and held his hands up.

  I rolled my eyes.

  Fucking coward.

  I'd lost count of the number of brawls Gibs had jumped into on my behalf down through the years, and vice versa.

  This prick needed to get better friends.

  "Stop!" the blonde cried when I continued to slam my fist into her boyfriend's face. "You're hurting him!"

  "Oh, you realize that, do you?" I spat. "So you are capable of knowing right from wrong?"

  "What's your problem?" she cried. "We didn’t do anything to you!"

  "You sure as shit did something to her," I snarled. "And when you fuck with her, you fuck with me."

  The blonde paled and I released her boyfriend.

  He sank down on the floor, cupping his face and groaning like a pussy.

  She moved straight to him.

  "Did you like that?" I asked, glaring at the prick whose face I had just rearranged. "Was that nice?"

  "Jesus, lad," the lad groaned, holding his nose to stem the blood. "I didn’t do anything to you."

  "No," I seethed. "And my girl –" I pointed to the lounge door, "didn’t do anything to your girl but that didn’t stop her from terrorizing her." I glared at the blonde. "From cutting her hair and beating the shit out her!"

  The blonde's face turned scarlet.

  I knew it.

  "For Christ's sakes, Ciara," the dark-haired guy groaned as he shook off the blonde's hand. "What did you do to her now?"

  "Nothing," Ciara argued. "I haven't even seen her since Christmas, babe."

  "Do you like being terrorized?" I asked him, taking a step closer, "How does it feel to have no power?"

  "I get it, lad," the lad groaned, waving a hand in front of me. "Loud and clear."

  "Make sure your girlfriend gets it," I hissed, glowering down at him. "Because if she doesn’t –" I paused to point at both the blonde and the redhead before continuing, "if she or any of her whore friends even look at my girlfriend again, I'm coming for you."

  I stood there for a long ass minute, giving every one of those BCS scum a glare, and waiting for a response.

  When I didn’t get one, like I knew I wouldn’t, I turned around and walked away, only to halt at the door.

  Call it childish, but I couldn’t stop myself from stalking back to their table and tossing it on its side.

  Feeling ridiculously satisfied when their drinks all spilled and smashed to the floor, I spun on my heels and stalked out.

  "Johnny!" Liam, the owner, barked as he rounded the main bar. "What the fuck are you playing at, kid?"

  For fuck's sake.

  Inhaling a calming breath, I turned to face him. "I'm sorry for making trouble in your bar. It won't happen again."

  "Trouble?" He arched a brow. "I saw you on the cameras. You could've killed that kid."

  Agitated, I ran a hand through my hair. "Those pricks were giving my girlfriend a hard time," I bit out. "Now I'm sorry that I resolved the issue in your bar, and I'll pay for any broken glasses or damage I caused, but this will be my last time putting money behind your bar."

  Liam balked. "Jesus Christ, relax, Johnny, I'm not barring you."

  "I don’t associate with scum, Liam," I told him in a tight tone. Pointing to the lounge door, I added, "And those fuckers are about the scummiest you can get. So you go ahead and keep on serving them, and I'll go ahead and find a new watering hole for my team."

  "Johnny, lad, hold up–"

  "No, I don’t think so," I hissed, brushing his arm off as I stalked for the door. "I have a reputation to uphold and I can't do that in a place that serves scumbags."

  "This will be their last time here," Liam called after me. "I'll have your usual ready for you tomorrow?"

  I stopped at the door and turned back. "I'll be back when the clientele doesn’t consist of vicious fucking bullies."

  And then I turned around and stalked out.

  Shannon was sitting in the passenger seat of my car when I climbed inside. "I'm sorry about that," I told her as I closed the door and pulled on my seatbelt. "I got caught up talking."

  "No, no," Shannon hurried to say in that small voice of hers. "It's absolutely fine. You don’t have to apologize to me."

  Yeah, I did.

  I left her out here in a freezing cold car for half an hour.

  It wasn’t good enough.

  Not for her.

  "You good?" I asked, turning to look at her.

  "Yes, and thanks so much for paying," she said and I watched as her cheeks turned a bright shade of pink. "I really appreciate it."

  Was she serious?

  Was she really thanking me for that?

  Christ, this girl was unlike any of the others.

  "That's no problem, Shannon," I replied, eyeing her with burning curiosity. "It was just a couple of bottles of coke and a bowl of soup."

  "Well, it means a lot to me, so thank you," she whispered, tucking that fucking beautiful hair of hers behind her ear.

  Her eyes burned holes in me so deep that I had to look away before completely losing myself in the girl.

  It was too much.

  She was too fucking much.

  "Uh, here's your stuff," she said, gently placing my keys and wallet on my left thigh.

  My good thigh, I realized.

  Shit, this girl was too much.

  "You can count it here if you want," Shannon added. "Your wallet, I mean." She tucked another strand of hair behind her ear. "I won't be insulted."

  The fuck?

  I stared at her. "What?"

  Shannon blushed. "Well, I just – I thought you might–"

  "I trust you," I told her. "I'm not counting anything. It never even crossed my mind, okay?"

  "Are you sure?" she whispered, killing me with those big eyes.

  I nodded and resisted the urge to lean across and kiss the shite out of those swollen lips. "I am absolutely sure."

  The smile that lit up her face then was so striking that it made my heart race recklessly.

  I just stared at her for the longest moment, wondering how the hell I got here, and how the hell I was going to get out.

  "I better take you home," I finally said as I shoved my key in the ignition and cranked the engine.

  "Of course," Shannon replied, still smiling at me.

  I had to look away.

  I couldn’t risk another glance at her.

  Not tonight.

  Get your ass away from this girl before you do something stupid like lose your heart as well as your head, my brain hissed as I tore out of the carpark, nerves shot to hell.

  Too late, asshole, my heart taunted.

  "Or," I heard myself say, giving into the urgent need I had inside of me to keep this girl right here with me.

  Shannon looked at me with bright eyes. "Or?"

  Don’t do it, Johnny.

  Don’t put yourself in temptation's way.

  "We could go see a film?" I offered, knowing I was screwed the minute the words came out of my mouth.

  "A f-film?" Shannon squeezed ou
t.

  Oh, Jesus.

  I nodded uncertainly. "If you want?"

  "At the cinema?" she asked, cheeks flushing.

  I shrugged. "Or my house."

  You stupid fucker.

  "I'm…I don’t…I'm not exactly –" she paused to tuck her hair behind her ears before saying, "allowed to go."

  "You're not allowed to go where?" I asked, feeling a huge pang of disappointment settle in my stomach.

  "Um, anywhere?" she offered with a helpless shrug. "My parents' are kind of protective."

  Understandable.

  If I was in their shoes, I would be protective of her, too, given what Shannon had been through at her old school.

  Hell, I was protective now.

  "But I want to," she added, smiling shyly at me. "I'd love to, actually – if you want to, that is?"

  Well shit.

  Balls.

  What the hell was I supposed to do now?

  My mother was at home so that was out.

  Forcing myself to concentrate on the road in front of me and not the girl sitting beside me, I flicked on my indicator and pulled onto the slip road for the city.

  "Cinema, it is," I replied in as breezy a tone as I could muster while on the inside I was burning the hell up.

  28

  Substitute Parents

  Shannon

  I spent all of Saturday babysitting my youngest brother Sean, which was the norm whenever Nanny decided to take a trip to Beara to visit Aunty Alice and her family, and Mam was working.

  The difference this weekend was that our father was gone, and our mother was missing.

  I knew a storm had been brewing.

  My gut was always right.

  After Johnny dropped me home last night, there was a blazing row that resulted in my father beating the living shit out of me, mostly over that stupid newspaper clipping that he still wouldn’t let drop. Mam dragged him off me, earning herself a slap in the face for her troubles. She ordered him to leave and never come back.

  Dad proceeded to fill the family car with everything he owned, called both me and Mam a pack of whores, and sped off steaming drunk.

  Mam had hurried out of the house an hour later with an overnight bag, climbed into a taxi, and hadn't been seen since.

  It wasn’t uncommon for our mother to storm off after an argument.

 

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