“You could ask him to help you.”
“I did.”
“Ask him again.”
“Please don’t start,” I warned, holding a hand up. “I already have Mam on my back twenty-four-seven, lecturing me on everything that I should be doing. Please, Case, I don’t need it from you, too.”
“Never,” she soothed, slinging an arm over my shoulder. “In my humble opinion, I think you’re a bomb-ass bitch for handling all of this so well.”
“Funny.”
“It’s true,” she pushed. “You are incredible, Aoif. The definition of a strong woman. All the crap you’ve been taking from assholes at school? How you handle yourself? How you get up and hold your head high each morning? Babe, you are amazing.”
“Except that I’ve never felt less like a woman, Case,” I admitted hoarsely. “And more like a lost child.”
Distracted when the sound of a car engine revving filled my ears, we both turned to see a fancy Lexus pull up at the footpath in front of Katie’s house next-door.
“Well, if it isn’t Miss Slick, riding shotgun with the rich boys,” Alec called out from the green, whistling loudly. “Fuck me, Podge, we’re in the wrong damn school. The best I’ve ever been dropped home from school in was the backseat of Aoife’s banger.”
“Hey, you leave Rattles and Squeaks alone, ya hear,” Casey called back with a laugh. “It beats the hell out of the shitty saddler you gave me on the back of your mountain bike.”
“Stolen mountain bike,” Podge chimed in, as both boys crossed the road to meet us.
“Don’t pretend like I didn’t give you the ride of your life,” Al teased, winking at my bestie.
“Did you?” Casey pretended to think hard about it. “Must not have been that memorable if I can’t recall.”
“Cheeky fucker,” he chuckled, tossing his sweat-soaked t-shirt on his lap. “When you’re ready for the sequel just say the word, devil-tits.”
My laughter quickly died in my throat when the passenger seat of the Lexus flew open and a teary-eyed Katie emerged, followed by a boy I knew wasn’t her boyfriend. “Katie?”
“Patrick?” Casey called out, sounding confused, as we both scrambled to our feet.
“Okay,” I growled, as I both moved straight for my friend, with my bestie and my boyfriend’s besties flanking me “Who the hell hurt you and where do we find them?”
“Honestly, I’m fine,” Katie replied, eyes bloodshot, as she quickly slipped around us and hurried into her front garden. “I just n-need to go h-home.”
“Hey!” Closing the space between herself and Patrick Feely, Casey poked him in the chest and glowered up at him. “What the hell happened to her?”
Silently and stoic, Patrick looked from my one of my besties to the other and shook his head. “Ask her,” was all he finally said.
“I’m asking you,” Casey growled, not giving an inch. “If you hurt her…”
“I don’t go around hurting girls,” he said, blue eyes darkening. “I don’t go around breaking hearts, either.”
“Katie, hold up,” I called out, moving to go after her only to halt in my tracks when I heard a familiar voice behind me.
“Molloy.”
Repressing a shiver, I swung around to see Joey crossing the road towards me, still clad in his work overalls, with the sleeves tied around his waist, and the white t-shirt he had on underneath smeared in engine oil. He had a baseball cap slung on backwards, and his lunchbox dangling between his hands.
I found myself looking at him – really looking at him – and I sucked in a sharp breath at the sight.
He looked haunted.
Hollowed cheeks.
Dark circles beneath his bloodshot eyes.
Several weeks' worth of stubble on his face.
He looked lost in his world, not even seeing me, as he stared off into nothing.
I’d often heard the term functioning alcoholic thrown around in conversation, but my boyfriend was the definition of a functioning drug addict. It didn’t seem to matter what Joey took or how high he got, he continued to present himself and function at a level that kept everything ticking over. If it wasn’t so soul-crushingly depressing, it would be impressive.
“Go,” Casey whispered in my ear. “I’ll deal with Katie.”
“What are you doing here?” I asked, meeting him halfway, so that our friends were out of earshot. “It’s only four o clock.” I folded my arms across my chest, desperately trying to soothe the ache beneath my ribcage. “You don’t finish work until six.”
My question seemed to take him aback, and his brows furrowed for a moment before the guilt kicked in, clouding his surprisingly clear eyes. “How are you feeling?”
“Fine.”
His eyes searched my face. “Yeah?”
I didn’t respond.
I couldn’t.
It hurt too damn much.
“What’s up, Joe?” My gaze flicked to the track marks on his arms, and I flinched. “Why aren’t you at work?”
Wordlessly, he pulled out his phone and held it out for me.
Frowning, I took his phone and unlocked the screen, opening a string of messages between Joey and none other than Johnny Kavanagh.
Yeah, so strange thing happened today…
Why are you texting me?
Because I took your brothers and they’re at my house.
Why?
I don’t know.
Do you plan on giving them back?
I guess.
You’re really fucked up, Kavanagh.
I know.
I’m on my way.
“Johnny Kavanagh took your brothers?” I gaped at my boyfriend. “Where? When? Why?”
“I don’t know.”
“Where’s your mam?”
Joey shrugged but didn’t respond.
“Darren?”
Another shrug.
“So, it’s left to you to clean up the mess and pick up the pieces.” It wasn’t a question. More of a resigned statement. “Again.”
“I know I’ve been letting you down,” he explained, tearing at his forearms with his nails, as his attention flicked from me to the commotion behind us. “And you’re pissed with me, but I was sort of hoping you might give me a spin over there to collect them.” Shrugging helplessly, he added, “I don’t have anyone else to ask.”
My heart cracked in my chest.
“Yeah, I’ll take you,” I replied, repressing the very strong urge I had to close the space between us and take him in my arms.
Because I loved this boy so fucking much that it almost killed me to stand here and not throw my arms around him.
But I couldn’t.
Because it wouldn’t change anything.
Because in the end, I would end up as the injured party.
That wasn’t to say that I had given up on him.
It simply meant that I had boundaries now.
I BELIEVE IN YOU
JOEY
Molloy turned the heater on full blast in her car on the way to the Kavanagh’s house and I was glad.
I was so fucking cold; I couldn’t get warm.
It was in my bones.
When she retrieved a hoodie from the backseat and instructed me to put it on, I did as she asked without argument.