by Chloe Walsh
Breathing hard, he sat straight up and roughly dragged me closer, causing us both to groan when our bodies aligned in the best possible way. "I love you," he whispered. "And I want you – badly. But I just… I don't want to do anything to fuck this up," he added, tone deep and gravelly. "I can't mess this up, Shan. I need this." Exhaling a ragged breath, he pressed his forehead to mine. "I meant it when I said I needed you for keeps."
"You remember saying that?"
He nodded slowly. "I remember."
The air left my lungs in a sudden rush. "Good."
"I'm going to keep you," he whispered and his hot breath fanned my face. "If that's okay?"
"That's definitely okay," I breathed, pressing my hand to his cheek. "I want you to keep me."
He smiled, dimples deepening. "Thank fuck for that."
Pressing a kiss to the curve of his swollen lips, I whispered, "I'll keep you, too."
"Jesus." Shuddering, he dropped his head in the curve of my neck and groaned. "This is how I'm going to die," was his muffled response and it caused me to laugh. "Think it's funny?" he teased, lifting his head up to grin at me. "I'll be taking you with me."
God, I really hope you do…
"But for now, I better take you home," he said with a resigned sigh. "Or else your Ma will have the Gards out looking for us."
"Oh." My heart plummeted into my stomach and my hold on his neck tightened. "Okay."
"It's going to be okay," he coaxed, blue eyes locked on mine. "Whatever happens with your Da, you're going to be okay."
No, I wasn't, but I forced a smile for his sake. "I know."
"Because you're not on your own anymore," he whispered, wrapping me up in his arms so tightly that I didn’t care that I couldn’t breathe. I wanted the world to stop and let us both off because this, right here, was where I wanted to be – where I wanted to stay. "You have friends," he continued to whisper. "And you have me."
His words gave me more comfort than I knew what to do with. He was big and strong and dangerously powerful. Given the chance, he could do some serious physical damage to my body. And still, I wasn’t fearful. I wasn’t wary. I didn’t have a hint of fear in my body.
"I'm on your team," he added huskily. "Do you get that? I'm totally with you, Shannon Lynch. One call, that's all you need to make, and I'll come. I won't let you down, and I won't leave you alone in this. I promise."
"It's just weird for me because I've never had someone in my corner before." Shivering, I added, "Not someone like you."
"I'm not in your corner, Shannon," Johnny replied in a gruff tone. "I'm standing right beside you."
Oh god.
His words hit me deep.
Burying my face in his chest, I curled myself into the smallest ball I could and prayed for time to stand still just for a little while. "I bet you wish you had a normal girlfriend."
"Normal is boring," he replied. "And besides, I could say the same thing to you." He shrugged. "I’m hardly a normal boyfriend."
"I'm just saying that it would be easier for you if –"
"Well, I don't want easy, I want you," he cut me off by saying. "Just the way you are."
My breath hitched in my throat. "Really?"
"Really," he confirmed, not missing a beat. "Every part and every piece."
I grimaced. "Even the broken parts?"
He winked. "Especially the broken parts."
I paused then, listening to the song playing on the stereo, before a small laugh tore from my throat.
Johnny smirked. "Something funny?"
"Proud Mary?" I questioned, gesturing to the stereo. "How does he go from Grace, to Yellow, to Proud Mary?"
"I know." Chuckling, he switched off the stereo and dropped back down on his back. "I think it's a fair representation of what goes on in his head." He sighed and stroked my waist. "His head's spinning constantly."
"Can I show you something?" I asked then, as I climbed off his lap and slipped back into the passenger seat. "It's…" Letting my words trail off, I reached into my schoolbag at my feet and withdrew the folded-up envelope.
"What's that?" Johnny asked with a frown as he re-buttoned his shirt. "Shan?"
"It's, uh…" Holding it in my trembling hands, I unfolded it and looked at the scraggly handwriting before blowing out a sharp breath. "From my dad," I added before thrusting the envelope into his hands.
His brows furrowed as his eyes flicked between the envelope and me. "He wrote you a letter?"
I nodded. "He left one for all of us, but I can't read mine."
He frowned again, deeper this time. "Do you want…me to read it?"
"I don't think I want to know," I strangled out, feeling flighty. "I just…maybe if you read it, just to check?"
Johnny didn't hesitate. His fingers ripped open the envelope, and with a steady hand, he held the piece of paper to his face, concentrating intently on whatever my father had written.
I watched as his shoulders stiffened and his cheeks reddened. "Is it bad?" I squeezed out. "Is he mad at me?"
"He said he's sorry," he bit out through clenched teeth. "That he was sick, he's seen the error of his ways, and he's trying to make things right." Jaw ticking, he rolled his shoulders like he was trying to control himself before adding, "He said that he hopes in time that you can find it in your heart to forgive him, and you can all be a family again."
My heart sank. "Oh."
"Yeah." Looking furious, Johnny refolded the letter and held it out for me.
I shook my head. "I don't want that back."
"You sure?"
"Positive," I strangled out. "Get rid of it."
Nodding stiffly, Johnny reached into the glove box and withdrew a lighter. Torching the letter, he rolled down his window and tossed it out, letting the wind sweep it away.
"Thank you," I whispered, relieved to have that piece of him gone from me. "He's lying," I blurted out, feeling panicked. "You know that, right?"
Johnny nodded. "I know, baby."
"He doesn't mean any of that," I heard myself say, desperate to make him understand. "This is a trick – this is something he's been told to do." I shook my head, feeling distraught and frustrated. "He's not sorry, Johnny –" My voice cracked. "He's never sorry."
"I'm not going to let him hurt you, Shannon." He was sitting poker straight in his seat, eyes trained on the windscreen, and gripping the steering wheel with such force that his knuckles had turned white. "I promise."
I sighed heavily. "Don't make promises you can't keep."
He turned to look at me. "Have I let you down yet?"
I shook my head. "N-no."
He nodded stiffly, eyes blazing with heat. "Then believe me when I say that I won't let him hurt you again," he repeated, reiterating every single word slowly. "Never again." He fastened his seatbelt and I did the same. "All I need you do is keep talking to me," he added, starting the engine. "Just keep letting me in." He turned to look at me. "And I'll keep you safe."
"Okay," I breathed, watching him cautiously as he drove us away from the beach. "I will."
38
Pushing Back
Shannon
"Shan, do you want to keep this?" Darren asked the following Saturday afternoon, as he balanced on a ladder, holding a scraggly looking teddy bear out to me. "Or will we toss it?"
"Toss it," I told him, taking the bear and shoving it into one of the overstuffed black bin bags in the landing.
"You used to love that thing," he mused, sounding a little sad, as I tied a knot on the now full bag and tore another one off the roll. "You took it everywhere with you."
"I liked a lot of things, Darren," I agreed, opening the new bag up. "But I grew up."
"You used to like me," he muttered quietly.
"And I'd like you again if you didn't keep me stuck in this house," I snapped, flustered. "It's Saturday."
"I know," he agreed with a sigh. "But I need your help cleaning out the attic. We need more space and if we clear it out, I can m
ove up there and give Joey back his room."
"This is a joke," I muttered under my breath. "Our entire family is a joke."
"Is this about him?" Darren asked. "Is this tantrum because you're not allowed to go out with him?"
Yes. I hadn't seen Johnny since school yesterday and I was growing agitated. All week, I'd only been able to spend lunch time with him, and I was quickly learning that wasn't enough. Nothing ever seemed to be enough when it came to him. "No," I snapped, dragging my thoughts back to the present. "It's because I am sick to death of being a prisoner in this house." Sighing heavily, I added, "I feel like I am shackled to the walls, Darren. I can't stand it anymore."
"Well, skipping school to hang out with him isn't going to do you any favors," my brother responded. "You were lucky I answered the call from your principal and not Mam," he added. "I covered for you, remember? Told him you were sick when you were off gallivanting around the countryside with him." When I didn't respond, because quite frankly, I didn't have any excuses, Darren sighed. "Come on, Shannon. It's your junior cert year. You know you need to put your head down and study for those exams in June. And he shouldn’t be your crutch. It's not healthy to get so attached to that lad – tempting as he is."
"He's not my crutch," I strangled out. "He's my boyfriend, and it's okay to want to spend some time with him."
"Some time," Darren agreed. "Not all of your time."
"I don't," I bit out. "I only get to see him at lunch."
"Well, boyfriend or not, you need to help out with packing these bags, because I can't clean it all on my own," Darren replied in a dismissive tone. "Do something productive with your day, instead of wasting it pining after some young fella."
"Do you know how I've spent every single Saturday for the last six years?" I asked, and then quickly continued before he had a chance to respond. "Cleaning, Darren. That's how I've spent my Saturdays. Cleaning up after everyone in this house."
Darren sighed heavily. "Shan, come on."
"No." Feeling bitter, I blew out a breath and planted my hands on my hips. "This isn't fair. You promised things would be different when I came home from the hospital, but it's not. Nothing changed. She's still in there –" I pointed to the closed bedroom door behind his back. "Hiding away from her responsibilities, while I'm still out here, cleaning up after everyone, and Joey is still dragging the boys along to their training and matches. The only difference now is that I have company." I gave him a meaningful look to let him know that he was the company. "That's the only difference I can see here, Darren."
"Really? Because I see things a bit differently," he growled, climbing down from the ladder. "For a start, he's not here. Second, the fridge and cupboards are full. Third, none of you are walking around the place covered in bruises –"
"He's still here, Darren," I shot back shakily. "He's just after taking on another form."
"What are you trying to say, Shannon?" he asked coldly. "Hmm?" Looking furious, he crossed his arms over his chest and glared at me. "Are you calling me our father?"
I shrugged, feeling guilty for what I had insinuated but unwilling to back down.
Darren laughed humorlessly. "You know what? Do whatever you want. Go out and get yourself pregnant for all I care. I'm done trying to smooth things over with you and the boys. In fact, I don't know why I fucking bothered in the first place."
I remained silent as he stalked past me and thundered down the staircase, and it wasn't until the sound of the front door slamming filled my ears, that I exhaled the breath I had been holding in.
Furious with myself and life in general, I continued to bag up the old toys, clothes, and general brick-a-brac from the attic until the landing floor was cleared. I neatly piled all of the bags at the top of the stairs and then I did something that surprised me. I walked into my bedroom, grabbed my coat off the back of the door, and shrugged it on.
Clambering down the staircase with my heart in my mouth, I hurried through the hallway, falling over strewn toys and bits of Lego on my way. I was suffocating in this house. I was drowning in my own life. I needed to get out. I needed something. I just needed…to open the door.
Flinging the front door open, I barreled outside. Not stopping, I broke into a run, pushing my body to its limits, whizzing past the familiar line of houses, then taking a sharp turn to the right and legging it down the dark lane. With no destination in mind, I pulled the hood of my coat up and kept going, desperately seeking that addictive taste of freedom I longed for with each passing day.
Three hours and a spare change of dry clothes later, and I was curled up on Claire's bed, with a mug of hot-chocolate balancing between my hands, and the end credits of Dirty Dancing playing on her television.
"I love him," Claire sigh/swooned from her perch beside me. "I swear, I will never get over that man for as long as I live."
"I thought you loved Johnny Depp," Lizzie quipped from where she was lounging at the foot of the bed, flicking through a magazine. "Make your mind up, girl."
"I love them both," Claire sighed. "But Patrick was my first love, and you know how the sweet flame of first love burns forever."
Lizzie rolled her eyes to the heavens, looking thoroughly unimpressed. "I don't know how we've made it through eleven years of friendship."
"I missed this." I sighed in contentment and took a sip from my mug. "I missed you guys."
"We missed you, too," Lizzie replied. "I had to suffer the adventures of Thor and his cat on my own the last time I came over."
"Leave Gerard alone," Claire grumbled. "So he likes his cat. Big deal."
"He walks his cat." Lizzie rolled onto her side to gape at Claire. "With a glittery, jewel encrusted collar and lead." Narrowing her eyes, she said, "Please don't tell me you think that's normal."
Claire shrugged. "I think it's cute."
"Of course, you do – you think everything that big eejit does is cute," she shot back with a shake of her head. "What about you, Shan? What do you make of Gerard?"
"I, uh…" I looked at both girls before grinning sheepishly. "I think he's great," I laughed. "I like his cat, too."
Claire beamed and Lizzie groaned.
"Shannon has to like him," Lizzie muttered. "He's her boyfriend's other half. Speaking of which, how is Captain Fantastic?"
"He's good," I replied, blushing beetroot red.
"He's good," both girls chimed in mockingly.
"Oh my god!" Claire squeaked. "I just thought of something." Springing to her feet, she padded over to the television and switched it off before swinging around to face us. "I love two Johnnys and Shannon loves another one!" Shimmying around with excitement, her eyes danced with mischief as she said, "If that's not fate, then I don't know what is."
"You know what, Claire?" Lizzie mused. "I take back everything I have ever said about you and Thor being a bad idea. I think you should totally go for it with him. You're a match made in heaven."
"I know, right?" Claire shot back with a smirk.
"Ugh." Shuddering, Lizzie flicked the page of her magazine. "I can only imagine the children that would be created from that union – curly-blonde unicorn-babies."
"I do love unicorns," Claire offered.
"Uh-huh," Lizzie drawled. "See, you're halfway there already."
"How do you know if you're going to have an or…" I let my words trail off as I took in the sight of both girls gaping at me. "Uh, never mind."
"Finish it," Claire squealed, bouncing up and down. "An orrrrr…."
"Gasm," I whispered, feeling my face burn.
"You had an orgasm?" Claire's eyes bulged. "Shut the front door!"
"Whoa," Lizzie muttered, looking begrudgingly impressed. "He's fucking smooth."
"Did you see his willy?" Claire demanded. "Oh my god, was it big? It's big, right? Ugh, I bet he's huge and you're so tiny…" Swallowing deeply, Claire waved a hand around in front of her face in dismay. "Oh god, I bet it hurt, didn't it? How are you still in one piece?"
"Calm
down, miss I'm afraid of the D," Lizzie shot back before turning her gaze on me. "Did you have sex with him?" Unlike earlier, she looked intrigued by the conversation now. "Oh my god, did he make you come your first time? Because that's impressive."
"What?" I shook my head. "No, no, I haven't…I mean we haven't…"
"Did he go down on you?" Lizzie asked instead. "Use his fingers?"
"No," I choked out. "He just kissed me."
Both girls looked disappointed with my response.
"Just kissed you," Lizzie replied flatly. "Wow. He sounds exciting."
"Don't be a bitch, Liz," Claire chimed in. "We're not all fast movers." Smiling brightly, she nodded to me. "Keep going, Shan. Tell us about your kiss orgasm."
Flustered, I began to explain how I felt the other day when Johnny and I were on her bed, and again when we were in his car, dutifully ignoring the eye-rolls from Lizzie as I spoke. I sat with him at lunch every day this week, and while we had kissed many times before and after school, they were nothing like those other times. When I was finished explaining, I looked to my friends for advice. "Is that normal?"
"It sounds like you were close," Lizzie offered, interested once again. "And it also sounds like he's a beast."
I blushed and Claire snickered. "A beast."
"Imagine what he could do with those clothes off," Lizzie mused, smiling now. She was so pretty when she smiled. It was a rare thing nowadays, but when she smiled, it was wonderful. "I think you should ditch the clothes for your next dry humping session," she added. "And then report back to us."
"Yes." Claire nodded eagerly. "So Lizzie can give you some more of her experienced wisdom, while I listen in because I'm nosey."
"I'm not a whore, Claire," Lizzie grumbled. "Jesus."
"I know that," Claire hurried to assure. "But you've been with Pierce like a million times." Shrugging, she added, "We want to know about it."
"You don't have to tell us, Liz," I mumbled.
"Yes, she does." Claire shushed me before waggling her brows at Lizzie. "Tell us what you know, sensei."