“Your brother’s a scumbag with a serious learning problem, little man,” Billy taunted the younger Lynch. “My brother and I are here to teach him a lesson that’ll stick.”
“How about I teach you a lesson?” Tadhg seethed, taking aim at Billy this time. “On how to fight fair.” With that, the little guy rammed the handle of the floor brush into Billy’s face. “And how to not be your brother’s little bitch boy.”
Blood sprayed from Billy’s nose, and he quickly released his hold on Joey’s arms. “Jesus Christ,” he roared, cupping his nose with both hands. “You little lunatic.”
Joey and Paul went crashing to the road once more, fists flying back and forth.
“Like that, did ya? Well, here’s some more where that came from!” Yielding the floor brush around like he was Master flipping Splinter from the Teenage Turtles, Tadhg hit him again, this time in the dick.
Falling like a sack of spuds to his knees, Billy cupped his junk and groaned, while the little guy went in for the kill, flaking him on the head with the brush.
The sound of Paul’s promises of pain dragged my attention back to where he had Joey on his back, in the middle of the road, while he straddled his chest.
“You couldn’t just let it go,” Paul snarled. “You could have any girl you want – what am I saying, you’ve had every fucking girl you’ve ever wanted, but that wasn’t enough for you, was it? You had to go and ruin her!”
“Give it all you’ve got, lad,” Joey continued to laugh, as his head snapped sideways from the impact of Paul’s fist, clearly exhausted from the hammering he’d just taken. “It’s the only free pass that you’ll ever get from me.”
The sound of sirens filled the air, and flashing blue lights came into view.
“Oh my god, the cops!” I heard Rebecca call out, as the both of them legged it before the squad car reached us.
“Aw crap,” I choked out, when my eyes landed on the Garda car coming towards us. “Stop it. Pack it in, the pair of you!” Rushing over, I grabbed at Paul’s arm, only to stagger backwards, seeing stars, when his elbow made contact with my face.
“Ouch,” I cried out, losing my balance front the brunt of the force, and landing on my ass on the road. Pain coursed through my cheek bone as the stinging sensation of tears filled my poor, wounded eye socket.
“Look at what you did, you prick!” I heard Joey roar. “Look at her.”
“Jesus, Aoife,” Paul was quick to shout, turning his attention back to me. “Are you alright?”
“I’m fine, I’m fine,” I croaked out, holding a hand over my sore eye, as a horrible vibrating ache pounded inside of my head. “Just stop fighting.”
“What’s going on here?” a Garda demanded, marching into the fold, with two more following close behind him.
Great timing, I thought to myself sourly, especially now the fight was over.
Billy and Paul quickly went on the offence, giving the Gards their version of events, which just so happened to completely throw Joey under the proverbial bus.
“That’s not how it happened at all,” I argued to the female Garda, who was scribbling down notes in her little black notepad. “It was a huge misunderstanding.”
“And then he threw the first punch,” Paul reeled off, lying through his teeth, while Joey sat on the road, remaining stoically silent, not bothering to defend himself.
“And it’s not the first time, either,” Billy interjected. “He assaulted my brother before today, too.”
“That’s right,” Paul agreed, nodding. “And he’s literally just been suspended for breaking my friend’s nose at school today during lunch.”
“Liars,” Tadhg spat, face turning beetroot red from temper. “He was holding him down while he…” He paused to point an accusing finger at Paul, “kicked his face in.”
“I was trying to protect my brother,” Billy assured the Garda. “Paul’s never been in trouble with the law in his life, sir, neither of us have. You can ask our father, Garda superintendent Jerry Rice.”
I narrowed my eyes. “Name dropping, Billy?”
“But this lad keeps bullying him.”
“Bullying him?” I gaped. “Stop it, Billy.”
“It’s true. My brother has been the victim of a vicious smear campaign. I was afraid for his safety,” Billy continued, tone convincing. “He’s dangerous, Garda. I don’t want to think about what could have happened to my brother if I hadn’t been here to protect him from this lunatic.”
After taking down a whole heap of notes, making a few phone calls, and cajoling between themselves for a few minutes, one of the male Garda’s searched us all before finally settling on Joey, gaze stern and unyielding.
Aw crap.
“Shitting on your own doorstop, Lynch?” he asked, inclining his thumb towards the Lynch house. “Have to say, that’s a new one for you.”
“Yeah, well, what can I say. I like to keep things interesting,” Panting breathlessly, Joey flopped back on the ground and held his wrists up. “Let’s just get this over it.”
I watched in horror as another Garda walked over to where Joey was sprawled out, and roughly dragged him to his feet. “Joseph Lynch, I am arresting you under Section 4 of the criminal law act on the suspicion of assault…”
“What?” Tadhg roared, eyes bulging, as he threw his hands up in outrage. “Are you serious? They were double-teaming him!”
“You are not obliged to say anything unless you wish to do so, but whatever you do say will be taken down in writing and may be given in evidence…”
“Mam!” Tadhg hollered then, bolting back towards his house. “Come out, quick! They’re arresting Joey again.”
“Wait, wait, wait,” I blurted out, hurrying over to where they were placing handcuffs on my, well, on my Joey. “This is all a huge misunderstanding.”
“What’s going on here?” I heard Joey’s father demand, as he stood at the front door of their house, with a can of beer in one hand, the remote control for the television in the other, and a cigarette balancing between his lips. Squinting, he asked Tadhg, “Which one is that?”
“It’s Joey,” Tadhg cried out hoarsely, still clutching the floor brush, as he looked up at his father with a pleading expression. “Please, Dad, do something!”
“Your son is under arrest, Teddy,” the Garda called back to him. “Under the—“
“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Teddy Lynch interrupted, waving the Gard off. “Don’t give me that long spiel. What’s he being accused of?”
“Assault,” the Garda replied, looking a little uncomfortable.
“Assault, eh?” He turned his gaze on Joey. “Did ya do it, boy?”
“Sure did, daddy,” Joey sneered, as tension emanated from his body.
“Then do whatever the fuck you want with the little bollox,” his father told the Gard. “Let the courts deal with him. Just don’t expect me to come down to the station to bring him home like the last time.” He turned back to Joey and called out, “Do ya hear that, ya little fucker? Don’t you be phoning your mother up to come save ya, either. You can clean up your own mess this time.”