“Listen, Molloy; about us,” he began to say, and then paused, like he was thinking carefully about what words needed to come next. His entire focus was on our joined hands, as his thumb gently brushed over my knuckles.
“About us?” I croaked out, shivering from the feel of his thumb tracing my skin.
“You’re my friend,” he finally settled on.
“You’re finally admitting it without needing to be coerced?”
Nodding, he forced a small, humorless laugh. “Only took a few years, right?”
“Only a couple.”
“Yeah.” Clearing his throat, he looked behind him to where the car was waiting and then back to me. “I like you.”
“Wow,” I breathed. “Another admission.”
“The hardest one yet.”
“I bet.”
“I know what you want us to be,” he added, tone gruff. “But that can’t happen.”
“Joe—”
“No, listen to me,” he urged, giving my hand a small squeeze. “I can be your friend, okay? I can do that. But you need to know that I’ve got some bad genes running through my system. Some seriously fucked up DNA.”
“Nobody’s perfect, Joe.”
“It’s not about being perfect, Molloy.” Releasing my hand, I watched as he crouched down and retrieved my heel from the mud. “It’s about being dangerous,” he added, wiping it clean with the side of his jeans before slipping it back on my foot. “And that’s what I am, okay? I’m a bad bet.”
“No, you’re not.”
“Yes, I am.”
“Then I don’t care,” I blurted out.
“You should.”
“Well, I don’t.”
“Nice shoes,” he said in a soft voice, tapping my foot. “You were right, they were worth hounding your father for.”
“See?” I forced a smile when I felt like crying. “Told you.”
“I’m not a good friend for you,” he added quietly, still crouching, with his hand on my foot. “I wouldn’t even know where to start.”
“You’re better at it than you think.”
“I need my job, Molloy.”
And there it was.
Finally.
“So, you’re finally admitting it?” I heard myself whisper. “You blew me off because of my dad?”
“And because you can do better than me.” Releasing my foot, he slowly stood up. “But you can do better than him, too.”
“Joe.”
“Lynchy!” One of the lads called out, swinging the back door of the car open. “Let’s go, lad.”
“Yeah, I’m coming,” he called over his shoulder, causing a surge of panic to rack through me.
“Listen, we can just chat,” I hurried to say. “Hang out, whatever. As friends. Friends is fine. Just please don’t go with him, Joey.”
Please don’t let him sink his claws into you.
Releasing a pained breath, he leaned in close and pressed a kiss to my forehead. “I could go a fair bit crazy over you, Molloy.” His lips brushed against my brow as he said, “Stay out of my head now, ya hear?”
“Don’t, Joey,” I called after him, voice thick with reckless emotion, watching his back as he walked away from me. “Don’t go with them.”
Turning back, his green eyes flicked to mine, and it was clear that the shutters had been firmly clamped shut, blocking me and the rest of the world out. “I’ll be seeing ya, Molloy.”
WHAT DID YOU TAKE?
OCTOBER 31ST 2001
JOEY
Molloy was a distraction to me on a normal day.
Throw in a sexy angel costume, and a belly full of booze, and the girl was a recipe for disaster.
I had found myself watching her for most of the night for two reasons.
The first reason being that she was a fucking delight to look at. All long legs, curved hips, blonde hair, and braless tits barely contained beneath that scrap of white silk she called a dress, as she danced like nobody was watching – which brought me to the second reason why she owned my attention.
Everyone was watching.
Well, everyone with a dick and a penchant for pussy.
I wasn’t the only one to notice the attention she’d been receiving, either.
I’d always thought she was too good for him, and I’d been proven right by the way he conducted himself tonight. Stamping his feet like a fucking toddler because his girlfriend was garnering more male attention than his ego could handle.
Ricey’s behavior didn’t exactly vouch for his faith in Molloy – or their relationship when he bulldozed onto the dancefloor like he was the fun police and spat the proverbial dummy in epic fashion.
I knew that Molloy was far from a wilting flower, and could handle herself up against just about anyone, but when I saw the way her asshole boyfriend manhandled her on the dancefloor, I had lost my shit.
I knew it wasn’t my place to intervene, I had no business sticking my nose into their relationship, but I physically couldn’t stop myself from doing exactly that.
I did what I always did, dived in headfirst and to hell with the consequences.
And just like always it backfired on me.
Because I had come this close to fucking everything up.
And in all honesty, if it hadn’t been for Shane and the lads pulling up, I wouldn’t have given it a second thought.
I would have done a lot more than kiss those pouty red lips of hers. I would have taken from her, something I had no right to have.
In the end, it was just as well that we had been interrupted, because when I came back to the Pavilion after settling up with Shane, she was with him.
After that, my mood had darkened to the point of no return.
Only Jesus Christ himself knew how irrationally jealous and hopeless I’d been feeling when I crushed and snorted the oxy that I’d scored from Shane, but it had given me exactly what I’d wanted.
An escape.
Higher than Everest, I swayed from side to side, as my mind drifted in and out of reality. The fantastic fucking feeling of nothing claiming my consciousness, taking me to a place I never wanted to leave.
Was I breathing?
I couldn’t tell.
I couldn’t care if I wanted to. And I didn’t.
I just wanted to stop feeling.
To stop caring.
To stop, period.
“You’re so gorgeous.”
Eyes closed, I leaned heavily against the cool concrete at my back, with my hands hanging limply at my sides, as a stranger’s hands pulled at my flesh.
“Your six-pack is insane.”
Tonight, I wanted to float away, to just disappear, and have nobody depend on me for a few short hours, but then the voice kept talking in my ear, and dragging me away from oblivion.
“Joey…are you with me?”
No, I wasn’t with her.
“I thought you were into this?”
I was floating the fuck away.
“Joey.”
Nothing.
“Joey.”
Numb.
“Joey.”
Let me go.
“Joey, isn’t that your mother?”
“Oh my god, what’s his mam doing here?”
“Hey – snap out of it, fucker.”
A hard smacking noise vibrated through my thoughts, bringing with it a burning sensation to the side of my face.