Saving 6 (Boys of Tommen #3)

by Chloe Walsh

Closing the space between us, I wrapped my arms around his waist, and pressed a kiss to the middle of his back. “I don’t love you.” Sighing heavily, he covered my hands with his and whispered, “I don’t love you back.”

Resting against the velvet padding interior was a tiny silver locket with the date 30.08.99 on the front. “That date…” I blew out a shaky breath. “It’s— “The first day of first year,” he explained quietly. “The first time I laid eyes on you, and the first time I understood what it meant to have my heart beating for someone outside of my family.” My heart squeezed so tight in my chest it was hard to breathe. “Joe.” "When I say I don’t love you," he continued, nuzzling his face in my neck. “It’s the furthest thing from the truth.” Love. He was talking about loving me.

“For fuck’s sake!” He blew out a harsh breath. “Why is this such a big deal for you?” I didn’t flinch or shy away when I said, “Because I want to look that bastard in the eyes and show him that you have someone ready and willing to go to war both with you and for you.” “Jesus.”

Joey roughly cleared his throat before adding, “Aoife is my girlfriend.” “Your girlfriend,” his mother repeated with a small shake of her head. “I didn’t know that you were in a relationship with anyone.”

“Talk to me,” I instructed calmy. “Tell me what you’re thinking right now.” “I’m mad,” he bit out, keeping his back to me. “I’m pissed the fuck off, Molloy.” “With me?” “Yes.” “For making you bring me here?” “Yes.” “Do you want to talk about it?” “No.” “Because you’re afraid you’ll blow up?” “Yes.” “Okay,” I replied calmly. “Then you be mad for as long as you need.” Because I’m not going anywhere.

“You don’t want this. Trust me – and especially not here.” “Yes, Joey, I do,” I urged. “And it has to be here.” He looked so lost when he choked out the word, “Why?” “Because I want to put one good memory of this house in your head.” “Molloy.” Raw emotion flashed in his eyes. “You don’t have to do that.”

“You’re so strange.” He threw his head back and laughed. “I love it.” “You mean you love me,” I teased, grinning up at him. “Yeah, Molloy.” His eyes burned with sincerity when he said, “That’s exactly what I mean.” Finally!

“I’m glad that I waited,” she whispered, curling her arm around my neck. “It meant more with you.” What was I supposed to say to that? We both knew I couldn’t say the same. Blowing out a breath, I went with the truth and said, “It never meant anything before you.” “Aw,” she teased. “You’re a sweet slut.” I grinned. “Thanks.”

“She’s very beautiful, Joe.” “Yeah, I know, Shan.” “Like seriously stunning,” she offered. “The boys in third year are always talking about her.” “The boys in third year have good taste.” “How long have you been together?” “A few months.” “Is it serious?” “Define serious?” “Are you exclusive?” “Yeah, we are.” “So, no other girls tucked away to one side?” “No.” I shook my head. “No other girls.” “Wow, Joe.” She waggled her brows. “It kind of sounds like you might be in looooove?” “I am.” “Oh my god.” Her eyes bulged. “I was half expecting you to deny it.” “There’s no point.” I shrugged. “I love the girl. It is what it is.”

“It’s painful.” Her eyes widened to saucers. “Painful?” “Yeah.” I nodded. “But it’s the kind of pain that’s worth feeling, you know?” She blew out a breath. “Really?” “It’s like you know you’re about to get your ass handed to you by exposing yourself to this person, and you know that you’re fucking around on the edge of something that could potentially break and ruin you, but it’s just so damn thrilling, so consumingly addicting, that you’re willing to take the risk and do just about anything to be with that person.”

“Stop worrying.” “Stop worrying? I’ve been more than just worrying, Joe. God, I feel like I haven’t been able to breathe again until just now.” With her arm around my waist, she slipped her hand into the ass pocket of my jeans and leaned into my side. “What happened?” I thought about feeding her the same bullshit I’d given to the Gards, but I had too much respect for this girl, and had too many feelings involved, to give her anything other than the truth. “He walked out on Mam a couple of weeks ago for some barmaid from town that she caught him messing around with,” I heard myself explain, unnerved by just how easy it was to be truthful with her. It didn’t happen often. Shit, it never happened. Not with anyone else. Just her. Only ever her.

You’re not the instigator in this, he is, and I’m not about to sit back and watch you take the blame.” “Aoife.” I held up a hand in warning, feeling like she had just stabbed me through both the chest and the back. “If you say a word about this to the Gards, then I swear to god I will never talk to you again.” Her mouth fell open. “I’m trying to protect you!” “You swore you wouldn’t,” I reminded her. It was why I opened up to her. “You fucking promised me!” “Well, I have to do something, Joey,” she strangled out. “I can’t watch this happen to you. I love you!“ “Well, don’t!” I roared back at her. “If loving me means betraying my trust, then don’t fucking bother! Don’t love me and don’t get involved. I can take care of my own shit.” “Joey.” “I shouldn’t have told you a damn thing,” I choked out, shaking now. “Fuck!” “Joey, wait!” “No. No. No!”

Drunk as a skunk, Joey held me and mumbled along to The Beatles’ Don’t Let Me Down, as we swayed against each other on the dance floor in the back lounge of Biddies. “My Granda Murphy was a big fan.” “Of The Beatles?” “Yeah, and of this song.” Pulling me close he pressed a kiss to the curve of my jaw and said, “When I was small, I used to ask him what the words of the song meant. He would always say that one day, when I found myself in love with a girl, I wouldn’t have to ask him what the words meant, because I would already know.” His arms tightened around me. “Turns out he was right.”

None of the boys in our year could fight like Joey, because, unlike the trivial fights they got into, when my boyfriend fought, it was a matter of life and death. Because when someone threatened Joe, it sent him right back to that house, where he had to fight for his life against a man who had caused so much post-traumatic stress inside of him that I doubted a lifetime of therapy could fix. I doubted Joey was even seeing Mike’s face as he bludgeoned him with his fists. All he could see was his father.

“I still can’t understand how you lasted a whole year without running for the hills.” “I don’t run, remember?” I shot back, reaching across the table with my palm up. “And neither do you.” Joey stared at my outstretched hand for a long moment before placing his on top of it and entwining our fingers. “I guess we’re both too stubborn for running, huh, Molloy?” “Or too in love.” “Yeah,” he agreed, tone gruff, as he pressed a kiss to the back of my hand. “Or that.”

Sitting across from her at Biddies the other night, it had really hit me just how fucking beautiful she was – and I wasn’t talking about the outside, either. Aoife Molloy had a heart of gold and was hellbent on handing it over to a piece of shit like me. She was my momentary escape from all of the fucking dark.

“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.”

“She’s pregnant,” Joey whispered from beside me, lips mashing together clumsily. “Who?” “My mother.” Jesus. I was so reeling that I honestly didn’t know what to say. Groaning in pain, he slurred. “I’m…sorry, Molloy. So fucking…sorry…” “I know you are,” I sniffled, cranking the engine. “I know, Joe.” “I…love…” I felt my body tense when he clumsily reached across the car and tried to pat my thigh. “You…Molloy….” Tell me when you’re sober,” I replied, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. “It won’t count tonight.” “Why won’t it count, Molloy?” “Because you won’t remember it,” I whispered sadly.

Sucking in a pained breath when the familiar pang of hunger clawed at my throat, I tightened my fists, locking my muscles into place, My hunger wasn’t for food. It was for heroin. Disgusted, I thought about how far I had fallen. How I had let myself become my father. I was poisoned on the inside just like he was. I couldn’t get beyond it. This hereditary weakness handed down to me by the person I hated most in this world would forever eat me alive from the inside out. Addiction had settled deep inside of me like a leach attaching itself to a blood-filled carcass.

Heaving a huge sigh of relief, I shifted closer to her warm body and pressed a kiss to her bare shoulder. She sniffled in response. I froze. She sniffled again. Ah fuck. She choked out a sob. The last few days’ events came trickling back to me, bit by bit, and my blood ran cold as shame enveloped me in its familiar embrace. No. No. Fuck no… “Molloy.” My voice was strangled and torn. “Baby, I’m so fucking—“ “You’re not good for me,”

"You might be the addict in this relationship, but you’re also the habit that I need to kick,” she strangled out, chest heaving, as she turned in my arms to face me. “Because I feel like I’m dying when I’m with you, and I feel like I’m dead when I’m not.” Her tears were on my shoulder. I could feel them. It shook me to my fucking core. I wanted to make it up to her, show her the better side of me, but I was just so fucking tired. I was bone weary, on the inside and out. Her eyes were red and swollen. There was no morality in this. No one needed to love me if it meant that it hurt them this deeply. “Aoife.” What was left of my heart cracked clean open in my chest. “It kills me that I’ve done this to you.“ “And I can’t walk away, because I know that there's still a little bit of you left in there,” she choked out. Placing her hand over the part of my chest that bore her name, she sniffled another sob and whispered, “Which means that I'm going to keep on loving you, Joey Lynch. So, you might want to start thinking about stopping breaking my heart.”

“I’m sorry,” was all I could whisper, as I held her. “I’m so fucking sorry.” The louder she cried, the tighter my lungs squeezed until she was full on screaming into my chest, and I was full-on dying on the inside. And only then did I find the strength to do what needed to be done. Only then did I find the strength to save her. From me.

"Listen, I want you to know something,” he said quietly, clenching my hip with his hand. “I want you to know that you’ve been the best part of my day every day since I was twelve years old." “Don’t Joe.” Voice breaking, my heart hammered violently, as tears spilled down my cheeks. “I don’t want to hear this.” Not when I knew where it would lead. "It’s true." Tipping my chin up with his free hand, he forced me to look at him. "My life has been a shitstorm from day dot, Molloy, and the whole goddamn town knows it. I've never had calm. But you?” His tear-filled eyes implored me to hear him. “You were like an island. Somewhere for me to go and escape. Somewhere safe. Someone to anchor me, if that even makes sense. And I took advantage of that when I had no right to. I was selfish when I dragged you into my world. Now, I need to put you first.”

“See?” He held up the creepy doll creature for all to see. “Santa’s the best.” “Mind him,” I warned. Fucker cost me a half a week’s wages. “Yeah.” Setting his new hurley down on my bed, Tadhg walked over to where I was standing in the doorway and wrapped his arms around my waist, hugging me tightly. “He really is the best.”

“You didn’t have to do this for me.” “I would do so much more if I could,” she replied, leaning in for a half-hug, while she batted several small hands away from the cake. “I love you, Joe.” “O-ee,” Seany crooned, clutching my leg. “O-ee.” “We all do,” Tadhg begrudgingly agreed. “Love you, that is.” “Uh-huh,” Ollie added. “So much.” “Yeah.” I blew out a pained breath and took stock of the small humans circling me. “Right back at ye.”

Depression had its claws latched deep inside of me.

“He didn’t just not come back,” I interrupted, feeling my temper rise at the memory. “He didn’t pick up the phone, either. Not once in half a decade.” “But I still don’t hate him. I could never hate any of my brothers.” She nudged my knee with her foot before adding, “And especially not my favorite brother.” I rolled my eyes. “Kiss ass.”

“Because I fucked up!” “So?” Tears pooled my eyes, and I carefully kept them open, not daring to blink. I knew if I did, the dam would burst. Blinking tears away never worked for me, I had to stare them back to hell. “You’ve fucked up before and it hasn’t stopped you from doing it again.” Over and over again… “Yeah, well, maybe this time when I fucked up, it cost me more than I was willing to lose.” “What does that mean?” “You know what it means,” he replied, running a hand through his hair. “Say it,” I demanded, as we stood less than two feet apart, with him towering over me. “Give me the words.” His green eyes blazed with heat when he came right out and said, “it cost me you.” “Me?” “You.”

“Because I was trying to do the right thing,” he snarled, losing his cool right back with me. “Fuck!” “For who?” I screamed, throwing my hands up. “For you!” he roared back, chest heaving, as he mirrored my actions, throwing his hands up wildly. “For you, Molloy. For fucking you. Always you!” Frustrated, he clenched his hands at his sides and spat, “I was willing to walk away because I knew that it was the best thing that I could do for you, not because I don’t love you!”

“You made me fall,” I forced myself to tell him, as every inch of me trembled. “You made me fall, and trust, and believe, and then you took it all away.” Pain encompassed his features. “I know.” “I’m in love with you.” I didn’t care how weak or pathetic I sounded in that moment, as I continued to let my truth spill from my lips, as I bled open in front of him. “And I’m afraid for you, and I’m completely fucked up in the head because of you.“ My throat hitched, and I exhaled a broken sob before forcing out, “And I have felt all of these things for you since I was twelve year’s old.” “Aoife.” “I have turned a blind eye to all of the shady things you do more times than I care to admit. I have thrown friendships away to be with you. I have walked into drug dens for you. I have covered for you, protected you, lied for you, and given my body to you.” “Aoife,” he groaned like I was causing him physical pain. “I—" “I couldn’t love you more if I tried, Joey Lynch,” I cried, giving up the fight against the tears that were flowing freely down my cheeks now. “I couldn’t.”

“But it’s never going to be enough for you!” Losing the battle with my emotions, I clutched my head in my hands and released an agonized scream. “I’m never going to be enough for you because my love doesn’t come in the form of a powder that you can snort up your nose or inject in your veins—" “That’s not how it is,” Joey interrupted, voice cracking. “That’s not how I feel.” Exhaling a ragged breath, he closed the space between us and roughly pulled me into his arms. “I’m the problem here, Molloy. I’m the one who’s never going to be enough, not you.” “You are enough!“ “I’m not,” he replied. “I’m really not, baby.” “It’s too much, Joe.” Tears spilled over, falling so fast it was hard to see clearly, as my arms shot out of their own accord, clinging to the person who had inflicted all of this pain on me. "All of it,” I strangled out, burying my face in his chest. “I feel too much for you.” “I know,” he ground out. “That’s exactly why I did what I did.” He pressed a kiss to my damp hair and wrapped me tighter in his arms. “You need to understand that this is a hill that I’ve been climbing since before we met. This is my demon to slay.” He released a torn growl and clung to me. “None of this is on you.”

I used to think that my words were bullets, but I was wrong. Nothing I could ever conjure up in my mind could inflict as much pain as had been inflicted on me by her words. Each word after soul destroying word, splintering me and cutting me to the bone. “Why can’t you love me more?” she continued to cry, holding onto me with a vice-like grip. “Why am I not enough for you?” “I do love you more,” I choked out, feeling my soul crack in half, as I reeled in the unimaginable fucking horror of what I’d done to her. “You are enough for me.” “No, I’m not.” “Yes, you are.” Blowing out a pained breath, I added, “I don’t want to be the way I am. I don’t fucking love what I do. I despise it.”

Because Molloy didn’t know what it felt like to wake up every morning with a strong inclination to attempt suicide. She didn’t know how it felt to be a helpless child, half-starved from hunger, and even more starved for a way out of a home she wasn’t wanted in.

“Listen to me.” “No, because you’re not saying what I need you to say.” “You want the words?” Roughly clearing my throat, I sucked in a sharp breath before saying, “Fine; I love you, Aoife Molloy.” “Don’t.“ “I love you,” I reiterated, eyes locked on hers, as I brushed away a tear from her cheek. “I love you more than I have ever loved another person in my life, and that’s not an exaggeration. That’s the god honest truth.” “Joe.” “Which is why I can never put you in a position like the one I put you in on Christmas Eve.” Sniffing back my emotion, I shook my head and expelled a harsh breath before adding, “It’s because I love you that I will never allow that to happen to you ever again.”

“You’re not supposed to tell me that you love me after we’ve broken up,” she cried, burying her face in my chest. “You were supposed to say it when we were still together.” “Before, during, after.” I shrugged helplessly. “It still stands.” “I don’t want this, Joey,” she strangled out. “I don’t want to lose you. You’re my best friend.” “And you’re my best friend,” I admitted, torn apart. “Nothing I feel for you has changed, Molloy.”

“How’s this,” I offered instead. “I’m going to go and do my thing for a while, clear my head, and get my shit together.” “Without me,” she whispered numbly. For you. “And you’re going to go off and do your thing with Casey, and the girls, and you’re going to have a fucking epic time,” I continued. “And you’re not going to worry about what I’m doing or who I’m with, because you already know that you’ve got my heart in your ass pocket.” Sniffling, she looked up at me expectantly. “And your dick.” It wasn’t a question, it was a warning, but I answered her anyway. “And my dick.” She nodded her approval and I swiftly continued. “And we’re going to see each other at school, and it’s not going to be fucked up and awkward because we both remember that before we were us, we were…“ “Us,” she filled in softly. “Exactly. I’m not replacing you, Molloy. I couldn’t. I’m trying to fix me.” For you.

If you are reading this, as a diehard fan of the Boys of Tommen, and feel like I haven’t reached the level of writing I was at when I wrote the first two books in the series, then I am sorry for letting you down. If you are reading this, and I reached you, connected with something inside of these characters, then know that I am with you, and I shoulder your pain daily.