“I’m fine.”
“Joey, you are about the furthest from fine a person can get.”
“Leave it alone, Molloy,” he muttered. “I don’t want to fight with you.”
“And I don’t want you to die!” I screamed, tears falling freely now, as my emotions got the better of me. There was something so tragic about this boy, something that I wanted to keep. “Don’t you care about yourself? Not even a little bit?”
“It doesn’t matter.” He shook his head. “None of this matters.”
“Yes, it does,” I heard myself shout. “It fucking does.”
“Molloy.”
“It matters because you matter!” I cried, glancing down at my bloodstained hands. “It matters because I love you!”
“I’m sorry I fucked your night up,” he decided to go with. “I’ll make it up to you.”
“I don’t want you to make it up to me, Joey, I want you to talk to me,” I begged him. “Just open up to me, Joe. If you tell me what’s going on inside of your head, then maybe I can help.” I batted a tear from my cheek and cried, “Then maybe we can start getting a handle on this. “
“I’m not okay!” he roared, yanking his hand away from mine. “Is that what you want me to admit? Is that what you want to hear, Molloy? That I'm not okay?”
“Yes,” I cried, feeling both relief and devastation flood my body. “That's what I want you to admit. I want the words, Joey. I want all of your words!”
"Pain," he roared into my face, eyes alight with temper, as his shadow danced with his demons. "On the outside. On the inside. All around me. Pain so fucking strong I'm drowning in it!” He ran his bloodstained hands through his hair, tingeing his blond hair a faint crimson color. “That's what I feel. That's all I feel. All the fucking time!”
My heart spliced open. “Joe.”
“Do you want to hear about often I pissed the bed out of fright until he literally beat the piss, blood and snot out of me?” he roared, tears flowing down his cheeks now, too. “Because that happened, Molloy. I was weak. I cried. I begged. I hid. I ran. And then when all of that failed, I fought back. I stood the fuck up and fought back. It didn't work in the beginning. He still smacked the shit out of me, but at least I felt like I was doing something!” Chest heaving, he ran his hands through his hair. “And now I feel nothing. I feel nothing, and I’m fine with that!”
“And you are entitled to feel that way!” I screamed back at him. “Your father has put you through hell. None of what happens in that house is on you. Not one bit of it. You’ve grown up in a war zone. You’ve done a phenomenal job—"
“Stop!” He held a hand up in warning. “My true colors are ugly, Molloy. Stop looking for the good in me, because it's not there to find. I promise. Because I know that I love you, but in all honesty, if I could forget you, I would."
The words were like a bucket of ice to my face.
I sucked in a sharp breath. “You don’t mean that.”
“I used to think that I wasn’t like him – that I was different, but you can't change DNA.” Choking out a sob, he roughly batted his tears away before saying, “Look at me, Molloy. Look at who I am. Look the fuck at what I’ve done to you! I'm just like him.”
"No." Shaking my head, I stalked right over to him and grabbed his face in my hands, roughly, raw, sincerely refuting his deepest fear. "You are nothing like him."
“Yes, I am,” he strangled out, breaking free from my hold as he staggered away from me. “And if you don’t get away from me soon, you’re going to end up just like my mother.”
IT WAS CHRISTMAS EVE, BABE
DECEMBER 24TH 2004
AOIFE
Joey disappeared after that and I hadn’t been able to get ahold of him since.
By late Christmas Eve night, I was frantic with worry, and, after searching every one of his haunts and hangouts, including his house, I found myself standing at the front door of a house that caused the hairs on the back of my neck to stand on end.
After several rounds of incessant knocking, the door finally swung inwards, and I was greeted with the sight of a man I hated almost as much as Teddy Lynch.
Maybe even more.
“Is he here?" I asked shakily. Adrenalin was pumping through my body at a rapid rate, making me shiver and tremble, but I forced myself to stand tall. I refused to back down from this piece of shit. "What am I saying? Of course he’s here. It’s the only place left for him to go.”
Shane smiled cruelly. "Who?"
Bastard.
"You damn well know who," I hissed through clenched teeth, glaring up at his bloodshot eyes. "Send him out."
He smirked.
He actually fucking smirked at me.
"Go home, princess." Catching ahold of the cigarette that was balancing between his lips, Shane stubbed it out with his fingers and placed the long butt behind his ear. "There's nothing left here for you."
Like hell there wasn’t.
He moved to shut the door in my face, but I stuck my foot in the doorway to block him.
"You have something that belongs to me,” I hissed, chest heaving now. “And I'm not going anywhere until I get him back, you jumped-up, fucking scumbag!"
“Fiery little ride aren’t ya?” he mused, taking my measure. “I can see the appeal. No wonder Lynchy lets you bust his balls. You must be a firecracker in the bedroom.”
“Listen, prick, you can send my boyfriend out here, or I can come in and get him.” Narrowing my eyes, I pushed at the door as hard as I could, forcing him to take several steps into his hallway. "Either way, I'm not leaving without him."
Shane’s hand shot out faster than I anticipated, fingers wrapping around my throat. "What did you say to me?"
“Let…go…of…my…throat…and…I’ll…say…it…again…asshole,” I choked out, clawing my nails into his beefy hand.
"Have you any idea who you're talking to?" he mused, eyes dancing with a mixture of malice and heat. ”Hmm?” He squeezed, not tight enough to choke me – more like scare me.
Unwilling to back down, I glared right back at him, daring him with my eyes to do whatever he had to do because I wasn't leaving.
After a tense stare down, a laugh tore from his throat and he released me.
"You're a crazy bitch," he chuckled, swinging the door inwards and gesturing for me to come inside. "By all means, be my guest."
“Joey?” Furious, I barged past him and stalked down the dilapidated hallway, stepping over empty beer cans and cigarette butts, throwing doors open as I went, feeling more frantic with every step I took. “Joey?”
“He can’t hear you, princess,” Shane chuckled from behind me. “He’s not here right now.”
“Fuck you,” I seethed, rushing in and out of every room downstairs before bolting up the staircase and starting the same process up there.
On the last door, when I'd given up hope, I stumbled upon my worst nightmare.
There was a stained mattress on the floor.