Home > Books > Redeeming 6 (Boys of Tommen, #4)(46)

Redeeming 6 (Boys of Tommen, #4)(46)

Author:Chloe Walsh

“Don’t be proud of me, Molloy,” he bit out. “Don’t be. Because I’m not better. I’m not cured.” He blew out an agitated breath. “I’m just…”

“Trying?”

“Yeah.” Shoulders slumping, he nodded slowly. “Trying.”

“That’s enough for me,” I told him, voice thick with emotion. “You’re enough for me.”

“I need to talk to you about something,” he said then, expelling another frustrated breath. “Something important that happened today at the GAA grounds.”

“Yeah,” I agreed shakily. “I need to talk to you about something important, too.”

“Hey guys.”

It was at that exact moment that Shannon walked into the kitchen, causing us both to turn away from the other in relief.

“How’s the face, Shan?” Joey asked, eyes trailing over the bruises. “Jesus.”

I looked at her, taking in the sight of her black eye and winced, feeling sick to my stomach.

“It’s okay Joe,” she told him, offering him a weary smile. “It looks worse than it feels.”

“I’m so fucking sorry, Shan.” He dropped his head in shame. “I should have been here.”

“It’s not your fault,” she told him before I could. “None of what happened last night was your fault. You’re entitled to have a life, Joey.”

Yeah, he was, but that didn’t make it any easier for him.

“Did you manage to get Sean to go back to sleep?” I asked, tone soft.

“Finally,” Shannon replied. “Tadhg and Ollie are out for the count, but Sean? God, he’s in an awful way over Mam. He was sobbing his heart out for hours. He ended up crying himself to sleep.”

“Fucking cunts,” Joey choked out, vibrating with tension again.

“Joe,” I whispered. “Don’t say that.”

“Say what?” he argued “The truth? Because that’s what they are; a pack of fucking cunts.”

“She’s still your mother,” I said, not because I didn’t feel the same way as he did. I simply knew that his words, no matter how true or sincere, would haunt him later, because his mother held power over him in a way that I could never understand.

“She’s worse than him,” he snapped, running a hand through his hair. “Leaving those kids here on their own. She could pick up the phone and talk to the boys, but no, like always, she runs and buries her head in the sand.”

Yes, she was worse than him, but Joey didn’t really feel that way.

He was anxious and frightened, and feeling cornered.

He was reacting to his trauma by using his words as bullets.

Same as always.

But those bullets were made of buckshot that splintered and ricocheted through him, too.

“Let’s see what we’re dealing with,” he said then, emptying his pockets on the kitchen table. "I don’t get paid again until next week. Which leaves us with exactly…” His voice trailed off as he counted his cash and stacked a few rogue coins. “Eighty-seven euro and thirty cents for the next six days.”

“That’s good, right?”

“It should work.”

“You know I’d help if I could,” Shannon blurted out, looking guilty. “But he won’t let me get a job.”

“Stop. Don’t even think about taking on blame for this, Shan,” Joey warned, holding a hand up. And then, with a wince, he added, “Check the fridge for me, will ya?” When she obliged, showing us that it was completely bare, I watched as my boyfriend balled his hands into fists and growled. “Fucking cunts.”

“The cupboards are the same,” Shannon said quietly. “Mam usually does the shopping on Saturday."

"Usually," Joey sneered, hands in his hair as he slumped over the table, staring down at the stacked coins.

“She wouldn’t leave like this, Joe,” Shannon offered quietly, worrying on her lip. “She’d never leave us without the shopping.”

“Well, she did,” Joey shot back, tone hot and full of resentment. “Fuck it; it’s grand. We’ll manage.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay,” his sister replied, looking upset and sounding unconvinced.

“I’ll give Mark a buzz in the morning,” Joey offered then. “He has a conservatory job lined up in the city next week. I’ll ask if he needs a laborer.”

“No way,” I argued. Mark was one of Dad’s clients that used the garage. Every time he came in for a service, he tried to poach Joey to work construction for him. It drove my father crazy. “You can’t miss school. It’s the leaving cert.”

“No,” he replied, tone hard and unyielding. “I can’t let the kids go hungry. And God only knows when that bitch will come back.”

“Joe, I can help with—”

“I am not taking your money, Aoife,” he all but spat, looking mortally offended at the very thought. “So, please don’t offer.”

“Joey.” I shook my head, feeling at a loss. “I want to help you.”

“And I love you for that, but I’m not taking handouts from my girlfriend.”

The look on his face assured me that the topic of conversation, for him, was over and done with.

“Do you know where she is?” I asked instead. “Your mam, I mean?”

“I presume she’s gone to find him,” Shannon replied, looking so small and lost.

“Okay, don’t bite my head off for this,” I said, choosing my words carefully, fully aware that I was poking a bear. “But should you maybe think about calling in the authorities?”

Joey glared at me.

Shannon gaped in horror.

“They can’t keep doing this to you,” I tried to persuade, feeling sick to my stomach, and hating the look of betrayal in their eyes as they looked at me. “And you’re both here alone looking after three small children.” I shook my head. “It’s not right or fair on any of you.”

“No, it’s not right or fair on us, but Shannon and I have been down that road before and there’s no fucking way that we’re going back there,” Joey blurted out, stunning me.

Back there?

Back where?

“Joey!” Shannon hissed, horrified that he spoke so freely around me.

“Look at us, Shan,” he replied wearily. “She can already see how fucked up we are!”

“What do you mean?” I asked, giving my boyfriend my full attention. “Back where? What are you saying, Joe?”

“When we were small, before the boys were born, when it was just Darren, Shannon, and myself, the three of us were put into care for six months,” he blew my mind by revealing.

“Oh my god.” My heart seized in my chest. “You never told me that.”

“Yeah, well, it’s not something I go around talking about. Besides, I was only six at the time,” he muttered, dragging a hand through his hair. “Shan was three. Mam placed us in voluntary care – said she was too sick to care for us at the time.” His tone was dripping with disgust as he spoke. “Dropped us off and walked the fuck away. Shannon and I got lucky. We were placed together with a nice family. Darren was eleven at the time and wasn’t so lucky.”

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