“Shh, it’s okay,” I coaxed, catching her before she could hit the ground. “I’m here.”
“He died,” she wailed, fingers knotting in the front of my hoodie, as she clung to me, body limp and racked with grief. “The baby died, and they took him away. They took him, Joey. They took him away from me.”
“I know, Mam,” I strangled out, helping her back to the bed.
“He was so small,” she cried, refusing to let go of my hoodie, as I stood helplessly in front of her, my hands hanging by my sides, as she took from me whatever she needed in this moment. “Twenty-one weeks,” she continued to wail. “He was so tiny.”
I couldn’t tell her that I knew how she felt or understood her pain, so I just stood there, feeling useless and on edge.
“He’s gone now,” she said through her tears. “Your father let them take him.”
“Take him where?” I forced myself to ask.
“Away,” she wailed, crying into my chest. “They’ll bury him in the hospital’s angel remembrance garden.”
“Is that what you want?”
“I don’t know,” she sobbed. “Your father said that’s what’s best.”
I had nothing to say to that.
She released a shuddering breath before whispering, “Shannon. The boys. Are they okay?”
“They’re grand,” I was quick to soothe. “They’re all grand, Mam.”
“And you’re here,” she said weakly, still clutching me. “How are you here?”
“Dad phoned,” I explained, slowly peeling her hands off my hoodie and taking a seat beside her on the bed. “He asked me to come and see you.”
“He did?”
I nodded slowly. “Yeah, he did.”
“Where’s your father now?”
The pub, probably. “He had to leave.” I inhaled a deep breath before adding, “Dad says the doctors have discharged you, Mam. I’m here to take you home.”
“No, no, no.” Her eyes widened with fear. “I can’t leave him here. He doesn’t even have a name! Just baby boy Lynch. That’s what they called him.”
“Mam,” I sighed, trying and failing to come up with the right thing to say. I could hardly tell her that she had to. “You can’t stay here,” I settled on. “The boys need you at home with them.”
“I don’t want to,” she wailed, dropping her head in her hands, and reminding me of a child trapped in a woman’s body. “Please don’t make me.”
“I’m not going to make you do anything,” I coaxed, eyeing the small pill dispenser on her tray, containing what I instantly knew was a fucking fabulous combination of valium and diamorphine. “Is this for you?” I asked, reaching for the tiny plastic dispenser with shaky hands. “Are you meant to take these, Mam?”
She nodded weakly. “But I get so sleepy.”
“That’s the point.” I thrust the pills into her hand and then placed the small Styrofoam cup filled with water in the other. “Swallow them down and it’ll take the edge off.”
“Joey, I don’t –”
“Take them or I will,” I cut her off and warned. “And then we’ll both be fucked.”
Sniffling, she gave me a pained look before popping the pills into her mouth and flushing them down with a gulp of water.
A mixture of devastation and relief flooded me and I sagged forward. “Good girl.”
“I want to see him one more time,” she whispered, sagging heavily against my body. “Before we go.”
“Okay,” I replied, reluctantly slipping an arm around her frail shoulders. “I’m sure one of the midwives can organize that for you.”
“Will you stay with me when they bring him back?”
I stiffened.
“Please, Joey,” she sniffled. “Don’t leave me alone.”
“Fine,” I choked out a resigned sigh. “I’ll stay with you, Mam.”
GET ME OUT OF THIS HOUSE
AOIFE
It was a little after eight when Ollie had somehow managed to coax Sean upstairs only to end up falling asleep beside him on Joey’s bed.
Downstairs in the kitchen, I washed the dishes from dinner earlier, while Tadhg played a game of Snake on my phone in his bedroom.
All in all, I was pretty damn proud of how well I had managed to handle today, but that didn’t stem the anxiety steadily rising in my chest at the lack of contact from Joey.
He hadn’t come home and he hadn’t called or text, either.
Something was wrong, I was sure of it, but aside from sending out a search party, which I clearly didn’t have the means to do, there was nothing I could do but sit and wait for him to return.
With my back to the kitchen door, and my arms up to the elbows in sudsy bubbles, I swayed my hips to the rhythm of The Cranberries Linger as it played on the radio, foot tapping to the beat, and I hummed along to the music.
A few moments later, when the sound of the front door opening and then closing filled my ears, I visibly sagged in relief.
“About damn time, guys,” I called over my shoulder, setting a plate on the draining board and shaking the water from my hands. “I thought you were dead or something.” I moved to turn around then, but his big body was on me, slamming me roughly against the sink. “Jesus, Joe,” I chuckled, with my back to him. “Miss me much?”
His hot mouth was on my neck then, but it didn’t feel right.
His sharp wet tongue trailing down the side of my neck felt all wrong.
Wrong, wrong, wrong, my body assured me.
It was at that moment I took sight of my reflection in the window over the sink and my blood ran cold.
"Oh my god,” I screamed. “Get the fuck off me, Teddy!”
I moved to twist away, but he wrapped his beefy arms around my arms and chest, keeping me pinned to the sink.
Fear spiraled inside of me at a rapid pace.
“Let go,” I tried again, keeping my tone as hard and forceful as I could manage, when all I wanted to do was scream and cry. “Now, asshole.”
“I’ve wanted a taste of ya since I first saw ya,” Joey’s father slurred, and the smell of whiskey that wafted from his breath was stifling. “Look at the body on ya.” He hardened behind me and I felt like vomiting. “Wasted on my young fella.”
His hand moved to my breast and that’s when I flipped the fuck out.
“I said get your hands off me,” I snarled, trying and failing to break free of his hold. “I swear to god, if you so much as think about—”
My words were swept away when he clutched my throat with his hand and squeezed.
Paralyzed with fear, I dragged my feet against the tiles when he walked us over to the kitchen table.
“Here’s how this is going to go, ya little cunt,” he snarled, slamming the side of my face against the table. “You’re going to keep your mouth shut and take what I give ya.” Reaching for the waistband of my sweats, he roughly pushed them down my thighs. “Prancing around my house like you’re god’s fucking gift.”
“Fuck…you,” I strangled out, with my cheek pressed to the table, I clawed and tore at his hand, trying to inflict as much pain as I possibly could, while locking my legs together, desperate to protect myself while in this helpless position. “Don’t touch me!”