by Chloe Walsh
My heart plummeted into my ass.
"I…" Pausing, I glanced at Shannon and then my mother. "I don't have to go."
Mam's brows shot up in surprise. "You don't?"
I hesitated for a split second and that was all it took for Shannon to spring off her stool and announce, "We should get going, Joe."
"Yeah." With a shake of his head, Joey stood up. "We should."
"You don't have to," I hurried to say, feeling panicked at the prospect of letting her go. "I don't have to go to physio. It's not that important. I can miss one day. It won't kill me."
"No, you need to go," Shannon replied. "And we need to go home." She glanced up at her brother. "Right?"
Now Joey was the one to hesitate as he stood in the middle of my kitchen, looking like he was fighting an internal battle of his own. "Right," he finally replied, tone tight. "Home."
"I'll drive you both," Mam interjected, shaking her head at me when I opened my mouth to protest.
I ran a hand through my hair in agitation. "But I just –"
"It's grand, Kavanagh," Joey said, giving me a meaningful look. "You've done enough, lad."
No, I hadn't.
I hadn't done enough by half.
22
Throwing Down
Johnny
I held her hand tighter than I knew I should, but I couldn't help it. Taking her back there felt all fucking wrong. Even now, sitting in the back of my mother's Range Rover with Shannon beside me and Joey up front, I was struggling to cope with the feelings battering me. Wrong, wrong, wrong. That was all I could think as Mam took the familiar turn off to their council estate.
Sweat beaded my brow as my body literally thrummed with more emotions than I knew how to handle. I felt like I was going to explode and I wanted to scream don't go back. I wanted to beg my mother to do something. To just stop this.
Logic told me to go to my physio, get my shit done, and stick to the bleeding plan. Problem was, my heart was screaming another plan entirely. I needed to think about the consequences, but they just wouldn't come to me.
Fuck, this family was going to ruin me.
Joey was silent for the entire drive, his body rigid, and it was as plain as the nose on his face that going home was the very last thing he wanted to do.
But he was doing it anyway.
For her.
Shannon's entire focus was on our joined hands. She had my hand pulled onto her lap and she was holding it just as tightly as I was holding hers.
With her free hand, she trailed her slender fingers over the scar on the back of my hand, the one I'd gotten in a rugby match years ago. She kept touching that scar over and over again, trailing her fingers up and down and over it until I felt like snatching it away because her anxiety was palpable and drowning me. Her hair was falling forward, her small face hidden behind her dark locks, as she bent her head and studied that scar.
Several times, I reached over and stopped her hand, but the minute I let go, she started right back up. In the end, I just gave in and let her do what she wanted to me.
When my mother parked the Range Rover outside their house, neither Joey nor Shannon moved a muscle.
Switching off the engine, Mam sighed heavily and then unfastened her seatbelt. "Okay, you two," she announced, voice strained from the effort it was taking her to sound happy. "Let's go."
I wanted to roar at her, beg her to do something I knew in my heart she had no power to do, because the panic rising up in me at the prospect of not seeing Shannon again, of not knowing whether she was okay or not, was driving me insane.
"Thanks for the spin, Mrs. Kavanagh," Shannon finally said. With a small nod to herself, she released my hand, gave me a small smile, and then moved for her seatbelt. "And for the scones."
"Yeah," Joey added, tone low, pushing the door open. "Thank you both."
"You're both more than welcome," Mam replied, voice thick now. "Come on, I'll walk you to the door. I need to have a little chat with your mother."
"Wait," I strangled out when Joey and Mam had climbed out. Catching ahold of Shannon's hand, I pulled her back into the jeep. "Don't go."
Shannon's eyes were wide and full of confusion when she said, "I have to."
"Don't," I said it again, knowing I was asking for the impossible, but asking for it anyway. I shook my head and bit back a growl. "I don't like this."
"It's okay, Johnny," she replied with a small sigh. "I'm okay."
No, no, no! "Just…" Exhaling a pained breath, I leaned back on my seat and tried to think of something, anything to stop this, but came up empty. "You're sure he's not coming back?" I finally asked, still holding onto her hand. "You're sure you're safe?" I turned to look at her. "I can't take it." My voice cracked. "Not knowing."
"I…" She closed her mouth and glanced down at my hand before turning her attention back to me. "I'll be safe."
She wasn't sure.
She wasn't fucking sure and neither was I.
Dammit to hell.
"Here." Digging into my pocket, I pulled out my phone and handed it to her. "Take this with you."
"Wh-what are you doing?" Blinking down at the phone in her hands, she whispered, "Why are you giving me your phone?"
"So you can call me."
"But this is your phone, Johnny." Her brows furrowed. "How am I supposed to–"
"I'll call you, okay?" My heart was hammering in my chest. "I'll get ahold of another phone and I'll call you."
She started to shake her head. "No, no, no, you don't have to do that for me –"
"I need you to do this for me," I said, interrupting her. "I need you to take my phone, Shannon." I begged her with my eyes to just do what I was asking. "Please."
"Okay, but I'm giving it back to you," she replied shakily. "Because I can't keep this, Johnny."
"Okay, that's fine," I told her, sagging in relief as I watched her pocket the phone in her baggy jeans. "Whatever you want. Just take it for now."
"How dare you!" a shrill female voice echoed through the air, causing Shannon to jump. "Where is my daughter?"
"Oh god," Shannon's panicked eyes locked on me. "Johnny, I'm so sorry," she choked out before bolting from the jeep.
Swinging around to stare out the window, I bit back a groan when I spotted Shannon's mother pointing a finger in my mother's face.
Mrs. Lynch was crying and screaming at the top of her lungs. They were in the middle of the garden with Darren standing between them, holding his hands up. Joey was leaning against the wall that separated their garden from their next-door neighbor's, unmoving.
"You need to calm down," Mam barked, although she sounded far from calm herself. "Your children are watching you."
It was only then that I noticed the three smaller versions of Joey standing under their porch veranda, looking on emotionlessly.
"And you need to control your son!" Mrs. Lynch countered, shaking violently. "Apparently, he has a problem with the word no."
"What did you say?" Mam hissed, taking a step towards Shannon's mother.
"Fuck," I muttered as I threw open my door and dragged my defected arse out of the jeep.
"What are you doing?" Shannon was running down the footpath ahead of me. "Mam!" she cried out as she rounded the corner and hurried into the garden, clutching her side. "Mam, stop!"
"Shannon!" Mrs. Lynch sobbed, moving to wrap her arms around Shannon.
"Don't," Shannon hissed, scrambling away from her mother's arm. "Don't touch me."
Her mother flinched. "How could you do that to me?" she sobbed. "How could you not come home, Shannon?" She hiccupped loudly. "How could you not even call to let us know where you were?"
"Why would I want to come back here?" Shannon choked out, glaring at her mother. "Look at this." She waved a hand at her mother. "Look at what you're doing right now!"
"I was worried about you," Mrs. Lynch cried. "I was petrified."
"I was fine," Shannon countered, trembling. "I was better than fine, Mam. I w
as safe!"
"Shannon, love, calm down," Mam instructed softly as she smoothed a hand down Shannon's arm. "Don't get yourself worked up, pet."
"Who the hell do you think you are? Keeping two of my children in your home without my consent!" Mrs. Lynch practically screamed, face turning red. "And don't you dare touch my daughter," she added, yanking Shannon out of Mam's reach.
Oh no.
Oh fuck no.
Don't do it, Ma.
Take the highroad…
"Maybe you should have said that to your husband," Mam shot back heatedly. "When he was battering the shite out of the girl!"
Oh Jesus, she went there…
"How dare you!" Mrs. Lynch screamed. "You have no idea about what we've been through. No fucking idea."
"Mam, you need to calm down," Darren instructed calmly. "And you need to go," he said to my mother. "Now."
"I'm so sorry." Shannon sobbed loudly and pressed her hands to her face. "I'm so, so sorry, Mrs. Kavanagh."
"Don't you dare come on my property!" Mrs. Lynch hissed, when I moved to walk into the garden. "Stay away."
"Relax." I held my hands up like a fucking criminal, but despite the warning, I kept walking towards them because leaving my mother on her own was out of the question. "I don't know what you think I did, Mrs. Lynch," I added cautiously. "But I swear, I didn't do it."
"I told you to leave her alone," she hissed at me. "I told you to go away and what did you do? You took my sixteen-year-old daughter out of my home and kept her out all night." Sneering, she added, "I've a good mind to call the Gardaí on you."
"Leave him alone," Shannon sobbed, making a beeline for me. "Oh god, Johnny, I'm so sorry."
"I didn't do anything," I repeated slowly, wrapping an arm around Shannon when she flung herself at me.
"I'm sorry," she just kept saying over and over again. "Johnny, I'm so sorry."
"It's okay," I whispered, tightening my hold on her. "Don't worry."
She was crying hard against my chest. She was bleeding through her tears. Releasing pain and angst, devastation and fear, and I wanted to save her from it all. Her tears rained down on me, drowning me right along with her, and that's the exact moment I felt the shift; the switch from this being something sweet and innocent, to deeply complicated with the hint of forever.
I was in so much fucking trouble.
"Don't worry?" Mrs. Lynch hissed. "You'll have a lot to worry about if you don't leave my daughter alone."
"I don't want him to leave me alone!" Shannon screamed, literally fucking screamed at the top of her lungs. "I love him!" Her voice cracked. "I'm in love with him, Mam!"
For a moment, I just stood there, staring down at her in pure shock.
She said it again.
She said she loved me in front of her entire family.
Well, shite…
"He's taking advantage of you, Shannon," Mrs. Lynch wailed. "Why can't you see that?"
Surprisingly, I wasn't even angry at her mother. All I felt in this moment for the woman was pity. Sheer fucking pity for being as damaged as she clearly was. "I wouldn't do that, Mrs. Lynch," I said, keeping my tone soft and coaxing. "I would never hurt your daughter."
"Are you accusing my son of something?" Mam demanded then. "Because if you are, then you go right ahead and say it to my face, lady."
Oh sweet Jesus…
"Ma, just leave it," I called out.
"No, Jonathon, I will not leave it," Mam shot back, furious now. "If she wants to accuse you of something then she can damn well say it to my face!"
"You need to leave, Johnny," Darren warned, eyes locked on me this time. "Take your mother and go."
"If your son has had sex with my daughter, then that's statutory rape," Mrs. Lynch shot back. "Shannon is underage and can't legally give consent."
"No, it's not!" Shannon screamed, looking humiliated. "Oh my god, you need to stop talking!"
"Mam, stop," Darren had the good grace to say, cheeks red. "You're going over a line here."
"A big fucking line," my own mother hissed through clenched teeth, vibrating with tension.
"If I find out that your son has put a hand on my daughter, I'll have him arrested," Mrs. Lynch cried. "Don't think you're above the law because you have money and your husband's a barrister." Sniffling, she added, "If I get wind that he has taken advantage of my child, I'll press charges on him."
"Mam!" Shannon screamed at the same time that I dove for my own mother.
"Ma, no!" Stitches or not, I moved like a bullet, intercepting her just as her hand flew out. "Don't," I hissed, wrapping both hands around her middle and pulling her away. "It's not worth it."
"You bitch!" Mam snarled, pushing against me, trying to break out of my hold. "Who the hell do you think you are, threatening my child?" Battling against me, she hissed, "He's a good boy! Too good for the likes of you! You need to take a fucking good look at your own family, lady, because if you so much as think about bringing trouble to my son's door, I'll take you down. Do you hear me? I'll take you down, Marie, and I won't need my husband or any other man to do that for me."
"I'm sorry!" Shannon continued to cry, flailing helplessly. "Oh god, I'm so sorry!"
"It's okay," I called back as I carted my mother out of the garden, kicking and lashing out. "It's not your fault."
"Johnny…" Her voice broke off and she cried hard. "I…I'm…sorry."
Not stopping until I was at the driver's side of the Rover, I yanked the door open, and bundled my mother inside. "Stop!" I barked, breathing hard from exertion. "Jesus Christ, Ma, settle down!"
Chest heaving, Mam slumped into the driver's seat, shaking from head to toe. "Alright." Nodding stiffly, she sat in the driver's seat and reached for her seatbelt. "Okay."
"Okay," I confirmed with a sigh. Slamming the door shut, I rounded the jeep, hobbling every step of the way as pain scorched its way through my body.
"Don't come back here!" Mrs. Lynch called out in a shaky voice from where she was still standing in the garden, watching me. "Or there will be trouble."
Shaking my head, I swallowed down a million fuck yous and turned to look at Shannon who was hugging Joey. "Shannon Lynch?" I called out, ignoring the rest of her fucked up family. "I love you back."
Sniffling, she lifted her chin from Joey's chest and looked at me all red-eyed and blotchy. "S-still?"
"Still." I nodded in confirmation. "Like a crazy fucking amount."
And then I turned around and climbed into the jeep before my mother decided to take another leave of her senses.
23
Dirty Laundry
Shannon
I felt like I was standing waist deep in the debris from the storm that had just blown through my world, and clueless as to how to proceed.
Reeling, I tried to make sense of the events of the last sixteen years of my life, but kept honing in on the last twenty-four hours.
Mam, Darren, Joey, Johnny, Gibsie, Claire, Mrs. Kavanagh…my father.
Always my father.
It had been the most uncomfortable cup of tea I'd ever slurped my way through in Mrs. Kavanagh's kitchen earlier, with Joey looking like something hell had thrown up sitting beside me, staring in confusion at the scone and clotted cream on his side plate. I had no idea what to say to Johnny's mother, and it was made worse again by the sobbing fits that took her over every time she looked at me and Joey.
The drive back to our house was equally as uncomfortable, made marginally better by the feel of Johnny's hand on mine and the sound of the light flow of conversation between Mrs. Kavanagh and my brother. I think Joey was so startled by Mrs. Kavanagh fussing over him, so completely caught off guard by her kindness, that when she told him to climb into the front seat of her Range Rover, he complied without a fuss.
I had no idea how she had the ability to get words out of Joey, but whenever she asked him a question, he dutifully answered her. She kept the tone light, never once asking either of us a thing about our father, choo
sing safer topics to discuss – like school, hurling, and his girlfriend, and Joey had responded with genuine, un-snappy answers that were completely un-Joey-like.
However, my elation over having my brother come home with me was overthrown by conflict the minute we pulled up outside my house. What I presumed would be a civilized conversation between two mothers had quickly gone to hell the moment my mother made a derogatory suggestion that Johnny had somehow taken advantage of me.
I'd never seen a woman lose her cool as quickly as Mrs. Kavanagh had.
All it took was those two words and Johnny's mother blew a head gasket.
It was shocking to watch a usually mild-mannered woman morph into full-blown mama-bear mode and attack.
I'd never seen a woman defend her child as fiercely as she had.
None of us had…
Not even Darren, who seemed to have a knack of calming a situation, could settle our mothers down as all hell had broken out right there and then in our front garden, in full view of my little brothers, with Johnny having to physically carry his mother out of the garden before they came to blows.
Terrible things had been said, our dirty laundry had been aired loudly, and the entire time Joey had leaned against the garden wall with his arms folded across his chest, silently taking it all in, and never once moving to intercept the drama.
The rage swelling up inside of my body, even now, hours later, was both a foreign emotion and a dominant one.
Never in my life had I felt so furious.
Statutory rape. Two words that were swirling around in my head, making it hard for me to function.
How could she say that?
How could my mother even think that?
I was so embarrassed; so completely taken apart by it all.
"Shannon Lynch? I love you back…"
My heart slammed wildly against my ribcage and I snapped.
"How could you do that to me?" I demanded for the millionth time, glaring at my mother who was now sitting at the kitchen table with her mandatory cigarette balancing between her boney fingers.