“But he put his hands on you.” Joey’s eyes bulged. “I fucking saw.“
“I was messing with her,” Kev choked out. “I wouldn’t really hurt my sister like that, you thick bastard.”
“Shut up, Kev,” I hissed, shoving him out of way, before turning my attention back to my classmate. “Joey…， shh, shh, Joe, look at me.” Reaching up, I cupped his face between my hands. “Look at me.”
Reluctantly, he did, and I sucked in a sharp breath at the sight.
His eyes were wild and feral looking.
He was visibly shaking with barely restrained anger, as he clenched his fists to the point where his knuckles had turned white.
“He. Hurt. You.”
“No, he didn’t.”
“I saw him.”
“I’m okay,” I heard myself sooth, thumbs smoothing over his stubbly jaw. “And you’re okay. It’s okay. Everyone’s okay.”
“I’m not!” Kev wheezed, clutching at his throat, as he staggered from my room. “I’m not okay, Aoife.”
“Kev, wait, don’t say anything to Dad,” I called out, chasing after my brother. “He didn’t mean—“
“He could’ve killed me, Aoife,” Kev strangled out, as he stormed into his bedroom, still clutching his throat. “That psycho nearly killed me.”
“But he didn’t?” I offered lamely, only to receive a door slammed in my face for my troubles. “Dammit.”
Shaking out my trembling hands, I drew in a steadying breath and hurried back to my room.
“Yeah, so Kev’s beyond pissed.” I slammed the door shut and glared at my rogue protector. “What did you that for, Joe? He’s going to tell our parents and you’re going to end up getting in trouble with Dad.”
“Let him tell them,” was all Joey replied, as he crouched down and quietly loaded up all of his tools into his bag. ”It doesn’t matter.”
“Yes, it does matter,” I argued, stalking towards the beautiful eejit. “You love working at the garage.”
“Doesn’t matter,” he repeated, keeping his head down, as he filled his bag and zipped it shut. “I’m sorry for causing trouble for you,” he added, as he stood up and threw the bag over his shoulder. “I’ll be seeing ya, Molloy.”
“No, no, you’re not walking out of here,” I warned, hurrying to barricade my bedroom door and keep him in here with me. “We can sort this out.”
“What’s to sort, Molloy?” he said flatly. “I hit my boss’s son. I think it’s pretty clear that I’m done here.”
“No, you’re not done here. You’re not even close to being done, here. So, just cool your jets and let me think about this,” I ordered, shoving his chest, and feeling a swell of excitement when he let me walk him backwards. Because let’s face it, after the display he’d just put on, there was no way anyone could make this boy do anything he didn’t want to do.
Walking Joey over to my bed, I pushed on his shoulders, and watched as he obligingly sank down on the mattress.
“Why’d you do that, Joe?” I croaked out, standing in front of him. I was physically shaking from head to toe as my earlier adrenalin deserted me.
"Because he hurt you," he replied, looking up at me with the most lonesome expression I’d ever seen. In this moment, Joey Lynch looked like the quintessential lost boy. “Because he put his hands on you."
"But he’s my brother, Joe,” I heard myself explain softly. We were only messing. It was play fighting.”
Joey looked up at me like I was speaking a foreign language, and the rare vulnerability caused me to do something incredibly reckless.
“I don’t…” He blew out a sharp breath. “I fucked up.”
Nudging his legs open, I stepped closer. “Yeah, you kind of did, Joe.” I reached out and ruffled his blond hair, and then, unable to stop myself, I cupped his face between both hands, and I looked down at him. “Picking fights with my brother, of all people,” I admonished softly, thumbs grazing over his cheekbones. “Spud packs a bigger punch with his tail.”
“I thought he was…” Shaking his head, Joey let his head fall forward to rest against my stomach. “I just saw you on the ground and he was… and I just…” The move was incredibly intimate, and I sucked in a sharp breath from the contact. “Fuck.”
“I’m okay,” I coaxed, unable or just plain unwilling to stand back and not comfort him. With trembling hands, I held his face to my stomach, and whispered, “You’re okay.”
He didn’t respond, but he didn’t pull away either, so I remained right there in my bedroom, with his cheek pressed to my belly and my hands stroking his hair.
Finally, after what felt like an age, I felt the tension slowly leave his shoulders, and then his arms came around my waist. “He hurt you,” he croaked out. “You don’t hit girls.”
NEW SCHOOL YEAR, SAME OLD ME
SEPTEMBER 1ST 2003
JOEY
Face down on a mattress that smelled of piss and freshly spilled tears, I remained completely rigid as awareness claimed me from the sweet escape of sleep.
With my brain foggy and uncooperative, I forced myself to retrace last night's events, trying to link my current surroundings with reality, but came up empty.
"Dada," a familiar voice sniffled, and just like that, I knew where I was.
Like you could be anywhere else.
A small, sticky hand landed on my cheek. "Dada."
Repressing the urge to shudder and scream, I slowly uncoiled my muscles, twisted onto my back, and cracked one swollen eyelid open just as my baby brother climbed on top of me.
Big brown eyes stared down at me. "Dada."
"Jesus Christ," I groaned, grimacing in resignation when his soaking wet pajama bottoms landed on my bare stomach. "Piss through your nappy again, Seany-boo?"
Nodding solemnly, Sean leaned close and pressed his chubby little hand against my cheek. "Dada, ow-ow." Lonesome brown eyes studied my face. "Ow-ow."
"No, Sean," another voice barked. In a tone laced with venom and fury, Tadhg sat up from his makeshift bed on my bedroom floor, and hissed, "For the last fucking time, he’s Joey, not Dada. Joey! Your actual Dada beat the shit out of your fake one last night."
"Tadhg, leave him alone. He’s only small, and I’ve been called worse," I growled, narrowing my eyes in warning, as I gingerly pulled myself into a sitting position and took stock of the sleeping bodies littered around my room.
Aside from the piss-soaked toddler on my lap, and the mouthy preteen on my floor beside my bed, another brother lay curled up across my legs like a sleeping puppy, while my sister huddled in the corner, with a floral-patterned duvet draped around her small shoulders.
The dresser wedged in front of my bedroom door was a harsh reminder of last night's events, and I was suddenly cold to the bone.
There's no place like home.
What a crock of shit.
"Are you okay?" That was Shannon, who looked like she hadn't slept a wink last night. Deathly pale, she locked her blue eyes on mine and kept them there. "Joe?"