by Chloe Walsh
"She's sixteen, asshole!" Joey roared down the line. "What do you think would have happened to Shannon if I went running to the Gards? She'd have been thrown into a care home, that's what! And there's more than just her to think about. I have three little brothers to look out for."
I opened my mouth to protest and then quickly stopped.
He was right.
I dropped my head. "Fuck."
"Yeah. Fuck," Joey sneered. "This isn’t a movie, Kavanagh. This is our life. It's real, it sucks, and you don't know a damn thing about it. We've been in care. We've lived through that. For Christ's sake, our brother was –" he stopped short and exhaled a ragged breath. "We've been in the system, we know the score, so before you throw blame at me for not doing something, ask yourself why we would prefer to stay with him than go back!"
It took me a moment to absorb his words before speaking again. "Well, here's what I do know. I know that I'm on the way to your house right now, and I know that if I find him there, if he's anywhere near your sister, I'm going to bring the world of trouble to the scumbag's doorstep –"
"She's not at the house, asshole," Joey erupted in my ear. "That's what I've been trying to tell you. She's at the fucking hospital!"
My heart stopped dead in my chest.
"I took her there myself on Saturday evening," he strangled out. "After our old man beat her to within an inch of her life for messing around with you. Some asshole teacher from Tommen called the house and reported that he found her getting off with you in a changing room, so fuck you back, Johnny Kavanagh. If this is on me, then it's on you, too!"
The line went dead and I just sat there, numb to the bone, feeling a million different emotions invade my body, and stared blankly at the phone in my hands.
I could hear my parents talking rapidly to each other, but I couldn’t make sense of what they were saying. A few seconds later, my father climbed into the driver's seat and cranked the engine.
"I told you," I said, eyes locked on the back of his head as the car tore off down the driveway. "I'm not a liar."
7
Not Today
Shannon
I spent the rest of the day in a state of barely contained panic. The headache I had been nursing since I opened my eyes had intensified to epic proportions, made worse by the constant stream of questions being thrown my way. First, by the Gardaí and then Patricia, a social worker who wanted me to think of her as a friend.
Yeah, sure she was my friend. I knew what her friendship would bring me. I wasn’t that naïve.
Darren had remained in the room the entire time the Gardaí were present, a silent watch owl, keeping guard over my tongue, making sure I didn’t mess this up. This wasn’t the first time I'd been in this position, facing the threat of authority with a family member lurking close by, making sure I knew what my role was in this. Usually, it was my father or mother standing by to make sure I minded my P's and Q's. Today, it had been Darren.
He didn’t need to worry. I knew my role. I had perfected it down through the years. I said all the right things, hid all the bad things, and remained silent for the ones I knew were trick questions – the ones I knew were traps.
Doctors and nurses had come and gone from my room all day, poking and prodding at me, and asking me questions they didn’t want the answers to. Disheartened, I did what I had to do to keep our mother out of trouble, wanting nothing more than to just be left alone. When they finally finished questioning me, and the nurses gave up on probing me, I felt worse than I had in a very long time.
Through it all, only one thing stood out to me, and all I could think was: I hoped Tadhg, Ollie, and Sean found the Easter Eggs in my school bag on Easter Sunday. I knew they wouldn’t have any otherwise. Dad had spent the children's allowance money at the beginning of the month. There wouldn’t have been any money spare to set aside for eggs.
Joey didn’t come back that evening to visit me, but Mam did.
My heart sank at the sight of her.
Because I knew what was coming.
"Hello, Shannon." With teary eyes and a blotchy face, she walked over to my bed and enveloped me in her arms, holding on to me like I was something of importance to her. In a way, I knew that I was, because she needed to keep me quiet. She was coddling me because she was afraid of what I might do.
She didn’t need to worry. It wasn’t her life that would be ruined if social services got involved. It would be ours.
When I didn’t reciprocate or make any move to return her hug, Mam released me and took the seat Darren had vacated when he left an hour ago. "How are you feeling?"
Unwilling to answer her, I remained rigid and motionless, my eyes taking in the faint bruising on her cheekbone on her gaunt face. Why do you do this to yourself? I wanted to ask, why do you let him treat you this way?
"I spoke to your doctors," Mam said in a shaky tone as she fiddled with the sleeves of her oversized raincoat. "They're talking about letting you come home the day after tomorrow, or maybe even tomorrow if your next round of tests look good."
"Home?" I asked, giving her a blank stare. "Or care?"
"Home, Shannon." Mam exhaled a ragged breath and nodded. "You're coming home." Tears filled her eyes as she spoke. "I'm so sorry, baby. For all of this."
I dropped my gaze to stare at my fingers. What did she expect me to say? That it was okay and I forgave her? Nothing about our lives was okay. "And Dad?" I forced myself to ask, keeping my eyes trained on my trimmed fingernails. "What happens now?"
"Your father won't be coming back."
Lies. "Yeah," I muttered under my breath. "Sure."
"It's true," Mam urged, voice thick with emotion. "I went to court. There's a temporary protection order in place to stop him from contacting any of us. I-I go back to court in three weeks. My solicitor assured us that we'll have no problem getting a permanent order against him."
More lies. "Until you decide you don’t want a permanent order," I shot back, feeling empty inside. "Until you decide that you want to brush this under the table – like you always do."
"I mean it this time," she assured, voice hoarse and cracked. "I won't take him back again. I won't. Christ, look at what he did to you –"
"What he did to me?" I strangled out, outraged. "What he did to me this time, Mam." I blinked back the traitorous tears that were blurring my vision. "What he did to me this time!"
"Baby, I'm so sorry."
I didn’t respond.
"Everything is going to be different from here on out." Her voice sounded weak, just like she was. Weak and broken and undependable. "Darren's home now and he'll help us get back on our feet. I promise it's going to get better."
I shook my head, furious with her words. "I don’t give a shit about your precious Darren," I spat, hating myself for crying in front of her. "He means nothing to me."
"That's your anger talking," Mam choked out. "Not you."
"My anger talking?" Blinking away my tears, I glared at her. "What planet are you living on, Mam? I don't know Darren. I have nothing to do with him and I don’t want to."
"Shannon," Mam sobbed. "That's not fair."
"Not fair? Have you even checked on Joey?" I demanded, voice raspy. She had always been about Darren. Darren this and Darren that. Joey never got a look in. Our father was the one who had been obsessed with Joey, but again, that notion had only sparked after Darren left. Joey was simply tossed into a role no one wanted him to play, least of all Joey. "You haven't, have you?" I continued. "You just left him out of this. You went right ahead and made decisions about our lives with Darren – a person none of us have heard from in over half a decade – and you never once thought to ask what your son who actually stepped up and raised us might think!" Hiccupping, I wiped my nose with the back of my hand and forced myself to continue. "I might be the one in a hospital bed, Mam, but Joey's the one you and Dad both broke."
"He won't speak to me," she sniffed. "He hasn't come home in days."
"I wonder why," was all I repli
ed.
"I don't know what to do," she choked out. "How can I fix this if he won't speak to me?"
"You can't fix this, Mam," I replied, trembling. "It's like that story about Humpty Dumpty. Nothing will put him back together again. Dad threw him off the wall and you lost the pieces to put him back together."
"Oh god." She dropped her head in her hands and sobbed. "I'm so sorry."
"You should have seen him today," I said, wincing when a jolt of pain shot through me. "He was completely shattered."
"Shannon," Mam sobbed. Weak, weak, fucking weak. "Just give me a chance to make this right, baby, please." You can't. You'll never fix this. "I know I can turn this around for all of us."
"See, you're talking, you're saying all the right things, but it's just words." Shaking my head, I lifted my gaze to hers. "It's all words with you," I croaked out bitterly. "All the same words I've heard a million times before, to go with all the same promises you've repeatedly broken."
"So, what are you saying?" she cried, dabbing her cheeks with a crumpled-up tissue. "You don’t want to be with me anymore?"
"I'm saying that I'll do what I need to for Ollie, Tadhg, and Sean," I choked out, drowning in my feelings. "To keep them safe and out of care, I'll give this plan of Darren's a chance. And I hope you're right, Mam. I really hope you are telling the truth this time, but I hope that for the boys' sakes, not mine. I pray that you can turn this around for them and be the mother they deserve, but it's too late to turn this around for us."
"I don't know what to say," she sobbed. "I'm just so sorry, Shannon. I know I can't fix this, but I…God, I just don't know what to do anymore."
"I know you're not a bad person, Mam," I whispered, snatching my traitorous hand back when it moved of its own accord to comfort her. "And I know he hurt you, too, in ways I don't understand, and I am sorry that happened to you. I know you were scared, and I am so sorry that you had to live in fear for all these years –" furious with myself, I angrily swatted my tears away and exhaled slowly before continuing, "but that doesn't mean you get a free pass from us." I sniffled and wiped my nose with the back of my hand. "It doesn't make it okay because you knew what he was doing, you saw it, and you did nothing. You just left us, Mam. You were there, but you weren't. Joey was right when he called you a ghost. And I don't know, maybe it was your way of surviving, making it through each day in one piece, but you had more power than us. You were the grown up. You were our mother. And you just…" I shrugged helplessly. "Checked out on us."
"Do you think, in time, you'll forgive me?" she whispered, looking up at me with lonesome, tear-filled blue eyes. "Do you think you ever could?"
"Maybe?" I shrugged again. "But I know that I don't forgive you today."
8
Bulldozer
Johnny
"I need you to keep your head," Dad instructed as he walked down the corridor of CUH to ward 1A with his hand clamped on the back of my arm. "No outbursts," he added in a low tone. "And for the love of god, no accusations."
"What's there to accuse?" I growled, hobbling along with my crutches. "We both know what happened to her." Like I told him. Like I told everyone. "Jesus, he put her in the fucking hospital, Da!"
"Johnny –" Pulling me to a stop in the middle of a bustling corridor, Dad pinched his brow and then turned to look at me. "You're upset, I understand. I get it. I'm sorry for doubting you, okay? You were right and I was wrong, but this –" he waved a hand around, gesturing to where we were standing, "is a sensitive situation – one you have zero experience with. This is a domestic violence issue, Jonathon. The Gardaí and social services will already be all over this. Do you understand? There will be a criminal investigation – one you cannot interfere with. Emotions will be running high and the last thing you need to do is run in there all guns a-blazing. It might feel good and justifiable, but it won't help Shannon in the long run. So, if you want to see her then I strongly suggest you keep your opinions and feelings to yourself, and let me do the talking."
I gaped at him. "I'm going to see her, there's no if about it." My father gave a look that said not likely. "I am going to see her, Da," I repeated, furious.
"Then keep your head and don’t bulldoze," he replied before releasing my arm and walking on ahead of me.
Glaring at the back of his head, I adjusted my crutches and hurried to catch up. "I don’t bleeding bulldoze."
I rounded the corner, hunting my father's silhouette as he slipped through another set of double doors and out of sight.
Fuck my dick and these bleeding crutches.
He was clearly walking ahead of me on purpose. He wanted to get there before me so he could assess the situation in that cool, unfeeling, calculated way of his without his headstrong son there to make a hash of things.
When I finally caught sight of him again, standing at the nurses' station at the far end of the long corridor, I upped my pace, using my upper body strength to sling myself along on the metal sticks, peeking through the glass windows of each door as I went.
I was passing the sixth door on the left when my body came to an abrupt halt and my heart jackknifed in my chest.
Shannon was lying on the bed with her eyes closed and her hands tucked under her cheek.
She was facing the door, and at the sight of her, I had to stop and catch my breath.
A million and one emotions battered through me as my eyes took in the bruising dusting her face. She was black and blue to the point of being almost unrecognizable. Almost. I'd know that face anywhere.
I felt it now; the deep sense of guilt drowning me. The sadness on her face every time I dropped her back to that house. The fear in her eyes when I knocked on her door that first time – the second and third time, too. She was always so skittish, so demure and obliging. She asked permission for just about everything. She wasn’t allowed to go anywhere. She told me that once – said her folks were protective. But she went with me anyway.
"Can you save me?"
"Do you need me to save you?"
"Mmm hmm."
"What happened here? What's this from?"
"My dad."
The signs were there, had been for months, and I just bulldozed past them. My eyes were open but I had been looking in the wrong direction. I didn’t hear her. I didn’t listen. I didn’t pay enough attention. I didn’t take it in, I didn’t see the hints, I couldn’t hear the cries for help, but I was hearing and seeing them now.
And now? She was lying in this hospital bed because I kissed her. Because I kissed the shite out of her and got us into trouble. That's what Joey had said. Their father did this because she was messing around with me.
My mind drifted to Joey. Every time I'd met Shannon's brother he'd been sporting some fresh bruise on his face. I never thought twice about it, though. I had just put it down to Hurling and brushed it under the table. God knows I spent most of my time nursing wounds. But this? My father was right. I could never understand this.
My heart galloped wildly in my chest, my hand moving of its own accord, as I reached out and clicked open the door. Casting a quick glance towards my father, who was still at the nurses' station, speaking to who I presumed was the ward sister, I pushed the door open and slipped inside.
9
Don't Let Me Down
Shannon
The sound of metal clanging loudly caused me to jerk out of a fitful sleep. A chair scraping against the tiled floor came next. For a few, uncertain moments I wasn’t sure where I was. A part of me felt like I was back in my kitchen, so I kept my eyes clenched shut and braced myself for the impact. When it came in the form of a hand covering mine, I peeked up and found myself staring into a pair of achingly familiar blue eyes.
"Hi, Shannon."
Was this real?
Was I imagining this?
The wild, erratic beat of my heart and the heat of his hands on mine assured me that I was very much awake.
Stunned, I looked down to where my hand was taped with wires and wrap
ped tightly in both of his before returning my gaze to meet his. "Hi, Johnny."
"When did we suddenly switch places?" Johnny teased. His tone was light but his eyes were dark and stormy. "Are you trying to steal my thunder, Shannon like the river?"
I cracked a smile. "I guess I wanted some of those drugs for myself."
"Stay away from those drugs. They'll fuck with your head. " He gave me a sad smile before looking around. "So, are you here on your own?" A deep frown was etched on his face. "Alone?"
I shook my head. "My mother is around here somewhere. She might be outside smoking."
Johnny leaned forward and opened his mouth to speak, only to stop himself short. Blowing out a breath, he rolled his lips between his teeth and asked, "So, when are you getting out of here?"
"Maybe tomorrow," I replied with a small smile. "Or the day after."
Johnny nodded stiffly and I knew he wanted to say more, but he stopped himself. "I'm not supposed to be here," he said then, shifting his gaze back to me. "At least, I don’t think I am."
"I'm glad you are," I whispered. Having him here, hearing his voice and seeing his face, settled something deep inside of me. Something shifted into place, an almost relieved sensation fluttered over my skin, soothing something deep inside of me. I felt like I was home. I knew that sounded crazy. It was more than crazy. It was downright insane, but I felt it. It was real, raw, and pushing me to move closer, be closer, keep him.
In this moment, I felt something align itself deep inside of my body, and when it did, the weight I was feeling, the heaviness in my heart and the pressure on my shoulders, just fell away.
"Me, too," he replied gruffly.
"So, when did you get home?" I asked, feeling hoarse and off-balance.
"This evening." He raised my hand and pressed a kiss to my knuckles. "Took me forever to get back to you."