Keeping 13: Boys of Tommen #2

by Chloe Walsh

  "I am, Johnny," she wailed. "I am going to die!"

  "No, Shan, you're going to live," I laughed. "Now slowly release the clutch and tap down nice and gently on the accelerator –"

  "I broke it!" She wailed when the car stalled. "I'm so sorry."

  "You didn't break anything," I replied, slipping the car out of gear and leaning over to turn the key in the ignition. "We'll start over." The engine roared to life once more and I repeated the same instructions, shifting the gears for her. "Good job!" I praised when she didn't stall and the car started to crawl. "That's it, Shan. You're doing it, baby."

  "I'm not sure about this, Johnny," she muttered, sitting so close to the wheel that her nose was kissing the windscreen, as the car chugged along. "This is nothing like GTA."

  An hour later, and I knew I had awoken the beast I'd met in my bedroom a few months ago. "I'm doing it!" Shannon exclaimed, eyes bright with excitement, as she whizzed around the back of the house, using my driveway like it was her own personal racetrack.

  "Slow down," I begged as she took the corner of my house with more speed than was necessary. "Please god, Shannon, just slow it down."

  "What's wrong, tough boy?" she teased. "Are you scared?"

  Fucking terrified…

  "Oh my god – did you see that?" she squealed in delight. "Did you see me slip into fifth by myself?"

  "I saw," I strangled out, gripping the Oh Jesus handle for all I was worth. "Can we be done now?"

  "Please just one more time?" she begged as she headed for the laneway for the hundredth time. "I promise I'll be done then."

  "Last time," I choked out, clenching my eyes shut only to think better of it. "Watch out for the –" my words broke off and I held my breath as Shannon swerved. "Pothole," I finished, exhaling a shaky breath.

  "This is exactly like GTA," she laughed.

  "Except there's no restart button," I groaned. "So please don't kill us."

  "It's like you said," she giggled, pushing the pedal to the metal. "I've got this."

  46

  Takeout and Updates

  Shannon

  We were sitting on the couch in Johnny's sitting room after my impromptu driving lesson, with our school books sprawled out, having just finished our homework, and I couldn't wipe the smile off my face. I'd had the best evening with him, and now I knew how to drive. Me. I could actually drive a real car. I had no idea what spurred him to take me out in his car earlier, but I wasn't regretting it. I felt so free behind the wheel, and having that much power was such a thrilling rush.

  Feeling content, I absorbed the heat wafting from the open fire as I listened to Johnny place a food order. "Yeah, can I get a portion of cheesy bread with that orange dip and a large pizza with no mushrooms and extra pineapple?" Johnny looked over at me and made a gagging motion before saying, "Yeah, I'm sure, lad, pile on the pineapple."

  "Hey –" Stretching out, I poked him with my toe and whispered, "Don't judge me, mister I only eat chicken."

  "The world is judging you," he mouthed back as he snatched my foot and placed it on his thigh. "Actually, do you have skinless chicken?" I stifled a laugh. "You do?" Peeling the sock partially off, he trailed his fingertips over my ankle. "How's that cooked? It's fried?" His brows furrowed and he tapped his fingers against my ankle, looking genuinely conflicted, before blowing out a breath. "Fuck it, give me a dinner box with an extra breast and leave the skin on it – oh, and throw in a bottle of coke." He looked over at me and winked. "Yeah, she needs the real brand." He hung up the phone and grinned. "Looks like the diet's out the window."

  "You can always start again on Monday," I snickered.

  "Are you saying I need to diet?" he teased, pulling me onto his lap. "Huh?" His lips moved to my neck and I sighed in contentment.

  "You're so pretty," I whispered, biting down on my lip as I sagged against him. "You don't need to diet."

  He paused mid-kiss and pulled back to stare at me. "Did you just call me pretty?"

  "Yes." I smiled. "What's wrong with calling you pretty?"

  "Everything," he replied, looking appalled. "Shan, you can't call me pretty."

  "But you are pretty," I teased. "You have pretty eyes, and pretty hair, and a pretty smile."

  Johnny gaped at me. "I'm offended."

  I laughed at his horrified expression. "You are a pretty boy."

  "Nope –" Shaking his head, he tossed me onto my back and then dove on top of me, "No, I'm not having that." Slipping his hands under my shirt, he tickled my ribs. "Take it back!"

  "Ahhhh, stop!" I screamed through fits of laughter as I squirmed beneath him. "I can't – I'm ticklish!"

  "I know," he laughed, continuing to torture me. "Now take it back, or I'm going in for the kill."

  "I take it back!" I squealed, twisting and turning. "You're not pretty – ahhhhh, Johnny, I can't – you're sexy! You're sexy, okay? Ah, ah, mercy. I scream mercy!"

  "I show no mercy," he snickered, slipping his head under the hem of my shirt and upping his efforts. "Your leg kicks out when I tickle you here," he chuckled, tickling my rib. "That's so weird."

  "I'm going to get you back for this," I warned him, hardly able to breathe from laughing so hard, as I wiggled and bucked beneath him. "You just wait and see –"

  The sound of tires screeching on the gravel outside cut through the air and Johnny's head popped back out from under my t-shirt. "Jaysus," he mused, hair sticking up in forty different directions. "That has to be some kind of record on delivering."

  "It can't be the pizza." I arched myself up to look out the window, but because it was dark outside, I could only make out a set of headlamps. "Oh my god, what if it's your Mam?" I spluttered and then proceeded to scramble off his lap at top speed. Knowing my luck, that's exactly who it was. "I should go." Grabbing my schoolbag, I started throwing all of my books back in, while I multitasked by toeing on my runners in the process. "You should take me home."

  "Shan, relax," he chuckled, climbing to his feet. "It's not my Ma, and if it is, you don't need to go."

  Bang, bang, bang…

  "See?" Johnny coaxed, moving for the door. "My mother wouldn't knock." My shoulders sagged in relief and I loosened my grip on my schoolbag. "Just wait here," he added before slipping out of the room.

  A few seconds later, a familiar voice boomed through the house. "Where's my sister?"

  Darren?

  "She's here."

  "Tell her to come outside. She needs to come home with me now."

  Oh god…

  "Come in."

  "What?"

  "I'm not telling her what to do, so come in if you want to talk to her."

  Less than a minute later, Johnny strolled back into the sitting room with Darren trailing stiffly behind him. "Your brother's here, Shan," he said, keeping his eyes trained on mine as he walked over and stood beside me.

  "What's wrong?" I asked, instantly on edge. "Wh-why are you here?"

  "I should ask you the same thing," Darren replied, but he didn't sound angry. Just tired. "You were supposed to come straight home after school." His gaze drifted to the school books laying open on the coffee table and surprise flickered in his eyes before he shook his head, features somber once again. "It's almost eight o' clock, Shannon."

  "I was coming home," I told him. "We were just going to eat dinner first."

  "We need to talk," he replied. "It's important."

  Panic flared inside of me. "What's wrong?" I asked, because something had to be wrong for him to obtain Johnny's address and drive all the way out here. He wasn't even fighting with me. This was bad. Something terrible was going to come out of his mouth. I could feel it. "Darren?" My voice was shaky, matching the rest of me. "What's going on?"

  My brother's gaze flicked from me to Johnny and then back to me before he blew out a harsh breath. "It's Dad."

  I stiffened, feeling every muscle in my body lock tight with tension, while I waited for Darren to confirm what I knew in my heart was coming.
r />   "He was released from Brickley House today, Shannon," Darren announced, voice thick with emotion. "He's back in Ballylaggin."

  The air left my lungs in strangled rush, and in its place came a flood of hurt, pain, fear, and paranoia. It would never end. This would never be over. Joey was right. He was always right. Dad would be back, and when he did, he was going to make me pay…

  A large hand slipped into mine then; warm, strong, and short-wiring my panicked thoughts. Trembling, I glanced down at our joined hands and then up at Johnny. He was standing right beside me – big and strong, and so close that I could feel the heat radiating off his body. His presence in this moment was deeply comforting. "What does this mean?" he asked the question I couldn't get out of my throat. "For your family?" He roughly cleared his throat. "For Shannon?"

  "No offense, Johnny, but it's a private matter," Darren replied, giving him a sharp look.

  "No offense, Darren, but I don't give a shite," Johnny shot back, not missing a beat. "Whether you like it or not, I'm her fella, and if she's in danger then I want to know about it." Bristling, he added, "I can help."

  "I don't need your help," Darren replied in a weary tone. "But I do need you to come home," he added, turning his attention to me. "Mam's a nervous wreck and we all need to talk about where we go from here as a family."

  "Is Joey at home?" I asked, watching him carefully.

  Darren sighed heavily. "I don't know where he is."

  "What do you mean you don't know?" I strangled out. "Where is he, Darren?"

  "Tadhg didn't take the news about Dad too well and stormed out," he muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Joey's out trying to find him." Running a hand through his dark hair, he expelled another pained breath before gesturing to the books on the coffee table. "Can you pack up what's yours so we can go? I've left Sean, Ollie, and Mam at home."

  "I don’t think she should go home," Johnny was quick to say.

  Darren gave him a sharp look. "Excuse me?"

  "I said that I don't think she should go home," Johnny repeated calmly. "She can stay here with me. Your Da doesn’t know where my house is."

  "She's coming home," Darren replied tightly. "Now."

  "I don’t see why she has to –" Johnny began to argue, but Darren cut him off.

  "You need to back off," my brother warned. "Seriously."

  "It's okay," I reluctantly said, wanting to do anything else in the world than go back to Elk's Terrace, but knowing I had no choice. "I'll go." Shoulders slumped, I released Johnny's hand and grabbed the last of my stuff off the table. Tears filled my eyes, making it impossible to see the opening of my pencil case as I tried to shove all of my pens and ruler inside. "Just give me a minute."

  "I'll wait for you in the car."

  I nodded stiffly, keeping my back to him as I packed up my stuff. "Okay."

  The sitting room door clicked shut and then Johnny was beside me. "Talk to me."

  I shook my head and tossed the pencil case down on the coffee table. Shaking, I pushed my hands through my hair, taking deep, slow breaths, desperately trying to keep my emotions under control. "I…" Snapping my mouth shut, I stepped around him and walked to the window. "I…" I shook my head again, dragging in a sharp breath.

  "Shannon, come on," he urged, following me. "Give me your words."

  "I think –" Pausing, I dropped my head and clutched the sill, "I'm going to cry."

  "That's okay," Johnny told me, standing so close behind me that I could feel his thigh against mine. "It's okay to cry."

  "I don’t want to do that in front of you again." Exhaling a ragged breath, I clenched my eyes shut and strangled out, "I don’t want you to see me fall apart all the time."

  "Well, you don’t have a choice," he replied, turning me around and pulling me into his arms. "Because I'm not leaving you."

  Shaking my head, I kept my eyes closed and whispered, "Johnny, I can't –"

  "I'm not going anywhere," he said, tightening his hold on me.

  I tried again. "You can't –"

  "I'm not going anywhere, Shannon."

  "You don’t need to –"

  "I'm with you. All of you. Every part. Good and bad. I'm staying. So, don’t hide this part from me."

  I remained rigid for the longest moment. It didn’t faze him because he didn’t let go. He just held me there, refusing to let me go, refusing to leave me alone.

  And when I caved? When I finally crumbled? It was into him. I broke down. I absolutely lost it right there in Johnny's sitting room.

  I didn’t want to have a conversation.

  I just wanted to cry.

  Johnny seemed to sense it because he didn’t ask me any questions. He didn’t say a word. Instead, he kept his arms wrapped around my body, holding me close, as my life fell down around me.

  47

  Help Her

  Johnny

  I couldn't sleep. My brain was on high alert and every muscle in my body was locked tight with tension. Every time I closed my eyes and tried to fall asleep, I was bombarded with mental images of Shannon lying in that hospital bed, beaten and bloodied.

  Her father was out.

  He was walking around a free man.

  In fucking Ballylaggin of all places.

  Furious, I turned onto my side and tried to empty my mind, but it didn't happen for me. Feeling at a loss, I threw the covers off my body, cringing when Sookie groaned in her sleep. "Sorry, baby," I whispered, padding across the room in the darkness.

  Slipping out of my room, I flicked on the light in the landing and made the trek to the opposite end of the house. It had to have been at least nine years since I last slipped inside my parents' bedroom in the middle of the night, but that's where I found myself – at one in the bleeding morning.

  "Da?" I whispered, nudging his shoulder as I towered over him, feeling like a creep. "Da?"

  "Johnny?" His voice was raspy and thick from sleep. "What's wrong?"

  "I need to talk to you," I whispered, eyeing my mother's sleeping form, and praying that she stayed asleep. "It's important."

  "Go back to sleep, son," he grumbled, rolling back onto his side and tightening his hold on my mother. "The sky's not falling, I promise."

  I rolled my eyes at that last part. Fucking Chicken Licken. "Da, I really need to talk to you."

  Raising himself up on his elbow, he peered up at me with a sleepy expression. "Really?"

  I nodded. "Really."

  Yawning loudly, he threw the covers off himself and stood up. "Alright, son, put the kettle on."

  "I will," I hissed, covering my eyes, "when you put some clothes on."

  Three hours and two pots of coffee later, we were still in the kitchen. My father was hunched over the counter in his jocks, nursing a cup of coffee, while I paced the floor like someone jacked up on coke. "There has to be another way around it," I hissed, scratching my bare stomach. "He can't just get to walk around scot free after everything he put them through."

  "Family law is complicated, son," Dad replied. "Every case is different."

  "That's not good enough –" Swiping the coffee pot off the counter, I poured myself another cup and downed it in three gulps. "Goddammit!"

  "I'm cutting you off," Dad yawned, reaching over and taking the pot away from me. "Or else I'm never getting to bed."

  "You should have seen her tonight," I continued, pacing and ranting. "Shannon's face when her brother told her that their father was out." I shook my head. "She was fucking terrified, Da."

  "Johnny," Dad sighed. "There's nothing you can do."

  "But there's something you can do, right?" I shot back, feeling all jittery and energetic. "Can't you take their case?"

  "It doesn't work that way," he replied with another yawn.

  "Why?" I demanded. "Why doesn't it work that way?"

  Dad exhaled wearily. "I've already explained this to you a dozen times; the DPP made the decision to take it to trial. They have been appointed a solicitor through legal aid, a
nd besides, Mrs. Lynch made it very clear that my services weren't needed – or welcome."

  "Then she's a fool." I snarled, upping my pacing. "You're the best."

  "I am," he agreed with a sleepy nod. "But her emotions are clouding her judgment."

  "She's incompetent is what she is, Da." Stalking over to the window, I rested my hands on the sill and exhaled a furious growl. "The woman's a liability and my girlfriend isn't safe in that house." I swung around to glare at him. "None of those kids are safe with her – and especially not now that he's sniffing around again."

  "They have social workers on the case," Dad explained calmly, as he walked over to the sink and emptied the pot of coffee down the drain. "That means house calls and strict supervision."

  "It doesn't mean shite, Da, and you know it," I shot back, frustrated. "She's not safe in that house."

  "Then what do you want me to do here, Johnny?" he asked, rinsing out his cup and placing it on the draining board. "All of the Lynch children would have been spoken to after Shannon's accident. They wouldn't have been returned to their mother's care without an investigation and of course, being asked about their mother's treatment of them. Obviously, the caseworkers involved found some merit in Mrs. Lynch's ability to parent them."

  "They're all brainwashed," I hissed. "Don't you get it? They're fucking terrified of being sent into foster care and separated, so they lie and cover for their parents because they're under some screwed-up belief that they're safer where they are!"

  "What's going on?" Mam asked, standing in the kitchen doorway with her white dressing gown wrapped around her. "It's half past four in the morning. What are you doing up?"

  "Your son wanted to have a chat," Dad explained calmly. "Nothing to worry about. Go on back to bed, sweetheart."

  Mam arched a brow and gave my father her 'do you seriously think I'm buying that shite?' look before stepping into the kitchen and heading for the kettle. "Is Shannon alright, love?"