“You’ve been with Shane Holland, haven’t you?”
“I don’t remember.”
“You could die, Joe!”
“I don’t know if I want to live, Aoif.”
“Don’t say that!” she warned, reaching her arm back through the bar to hook it around my neck. “Don’t you ever say that again, do you hear me?”
“I’m only here for you,” I confessed, reveling in the warmth of her hands on my skin. I was so fucking cold. She was the only thing that could warm me. “I want it gone, Aoif. I want it to be done with—”
“No, baby no.” Sniffling, she pulled me close and sealed her mouth to mine. “I won’t let you go.”
Shivering when the heat from her lips and tongue melted the ice inside of me, I tried to get closer, needing to be with her. “Don’t run, Molloy. I know I don’t deserve you, but please just…don’t run.”
“Never.”
“Please just… please keep loving me.”
“Always, Joe,” she breathed against my lips. “Always.”
“Because I feel like I’m all alone here, baby.”
“No.” Shaking her head, she pulled back to wipe the tears that were trickling down my cheeks and then leaned back in to gently stroke my nose with hers. “You have us.”
Trembling, I reached my hand between the bars and reached for her. “I want to be good enough for you.” Sniffling, I cradled the small swell of her stomach as the wind whipped at my face. “For both of you.”
“I believe in you,” I heard her say through her tears. “Do you hear me, Joey Lynch?” Clutching my face between her hands, she looked me right in the eyes and whispered, “I still believe in you.”
You’re the only one.
YOU’RE NOT TAKING HIM
AOIFE
I had problems.
Many of them.
My biggest, aside from impending motherhood and my boyfriend’s drug dependency, was my inability to back the hell down from a fight.
Many would label my ability to love unwaveringly a positive personality trait, but when it led me back to the lion’s den, I knew it was a reckless fucking habit. Still, I parked my car outside the shitty, graffiti-ridden house and climbed out, poised for battle.
Gripping my car keys in one fist for protection, I stalked up to the house and hammered on the door with the other. When the door opened inwards, and Shane’s grotesque fucking face greeted me, I felt the fire of a thousand volcanos build up inside of me.
“Back for round two?”
“Before you start, I know he’s been here with you. So, I want his phone, his wallet, and everything else you stole from him,” I stated coldly, looking him dead in his eyes. “Fight with me on this, and I will rain hell down on you.”
His lips tipped upwards. “Is that so?”
“Try me, asshole.” I folded my arms across my chest. “I dare you.”
Looking more amused than annoyed with me tonight, Shane shook his head and chuckled. “You want your boyfriend’s shit? Come in and find it yourself. I’m not his housekeeper.”
My heart sank, but I schooled my features and stepped around the drugged-up gangster.
“You know the room he stays in,” Shane called over his shoulder, as he disappeared into the sitting room, sounding thoroughly amused by my boyfriend’s downfall. “Have at it, princess.”
Swallowing down my fury, I moved for the staircase, not stopping until I was standing outside the door of the room that I found him in last year.
Deep breaths.
You can do this.
Pushing the door inwards, I held my breath and stepped inside.
Repressing the urge to shudder when my eyes landed on the blood-stained mattress that I knew Joe had slept on, I stepped over several discarded syringes and random pieces of tinfoil, feeling myself die a little more with every step I took. Filthy didn’t come close to describing the decrepit conditions of this room, and knowing this was where he came to for sanctuary sickened me.
Careful not to touch anything for fear of disease or infection, because who the fuck knew who else stayed in this hellhole, I reached for a familiar discarded hoodie.
Joey’s hoodie.
I’d bought it for him last year.
Trembling violently, I reached into the front pocket and sagged in relief when my fingers brushed over both his phone and wallet. Silently pocketing both, I bundled his hoodie under my arm and took another quick glance around the carnage before heading back downstairs.
“You can tell your boyfriend that he owes me money,” Shane called out from the sitting room when I was half-way down the staircase. “He has a week to come up with the cash or he can work it off for me.”
Unable to contain my emotions a second longer, I thundered down the staircase and stormed into the sitting room.
“Stay the fuck away from him, Shane,” I snarled, not caring about the four other men lounging around on couches in the shit hole he called his home. “I mean it, asshole. Keep your filthy fucking habits away from my boyfriend!”
“My filthy habits?” he laughed from his perch on the couch. “Don’t you mean Lynchy’s filthy habits?”
“People like you make me sick,” I hissed, glaring down at him. “Sinking your claws in vulnerable people. You’re disgusting!”
“Words,” he chuckled, mocking me with hand movements. “Get the fuck out of here, princess, and tell lover boy that I’ve a job lined up for him.” His gaze trailed over my body and when he reached my middle, his brows shot up. “Or should I call him baby-daddy?”
“You’re not having him,” I seethed, standing my ground. “I won’t let you take him from us.”
“He’s already gone, kid,” another man said. “Clear off before he takes you down with him.”
I couldn’t.
That was the problem.
I couldn’t leave him.
“How much does he owe you?” I heard myself ask, keeping my eyes glued to Shane. “Joey. What does he owe?”
“Six hundred,” he mused, arching a brow. “You got that kind of cash on you, princess?”
No, I didn’t.
I didn’t make that kind of money in a month at work.
My parents were barely breaking even, so they didn’t have cash to spare.
Neither had any of my friends.
Fuck.
Smiling knowingly, Shane inclined his head to the door. “Don’t worry. I have plenty of work for him.”
“He’s not dealing for you.”
“You get a say in this, princess.”
“I don’t need one,” I shot back, shaking. “I know Joey. He will never deal.”
“Then he’ll pay with his arms,” one of the men joked.
“And his legs,” laughed another.
Panic-stricken, I racked my brain for a solution to the mess my boyfriend had gotten himself into. “I can get you the money.”
“Now you’re speaking my language.”
“But that’s it,” I warned. “I get the money, and you leave him alone.”
The men around me all laughed again like it was the funniest thing they’d ever heard.
“I’m not fucking joking,” I snapped. “I’ll pay what he owes, but you have to back off, do you hear me?”