Binding 13 (Boys of Tommen, #1)

by Chloe Walsh

I would like to dedicate Binding 13 to anyone who’s ever had a dream they dared to chase with insatiable hunger and drive. This story is for you.

My brother Joey said they targeted me because I was good-looking and called my tormenters jealous bitches. He told me that I was gorgeous and instructed me to rise above it.

My older brother was the polar opposite of me in every shape of the word. Where I was short, he was tall. I had blue eyes, he had green ones. I was dark-haired; he was fair. His skin was sun-kissed golden. I was pale. He was outspoken and loud, while I was quiet and kept to myself.

My last coherent thought before I hit the ground with a thud, and a thick cloud of darkness cloaked over me, was this: Nothing changes. I was wrong, though. Everything changed after that day. Everything.

Horrified, I threw my hands up and blurted out, “I’m so sorry,” before crouching down and scooping her up from the grass. “Christ,” I muttered, helpless, as I set her on her feet. “Don’t cry.” “It’s my first day,” she sniffled, swaying on her feet. “My fresh start and I’m covered in shit.” She was covered in shit. “My dad’s going to kill me,” she continued to choke out, clutching her torn skirt. “My uniform’s ruined.”

“Everything’s spinning.” “I won’t let you fall,” I automatically replied in a soothing tone. “It’s okay.” I felt her slip and pulled her upright, holding onto the tiny thing for all I was worth. “I’ve got you,” I coaxed, tightening my arm around her. “You’re good.”

She opened her eyes, and fuck me, I unintentionally sucked in a sharp breath. Jesus, this girl was beautiful.

“Hi,” she breathed. I blew out a relieved breath. “Hi.” “That’s really your face?” she asked, eyes drooping, as she studied me with a vacant expression. “It’s so pretty.” “Uh, thanks?” I offered uncomfortably, still cupping her cheeks in my hands. “It’s the only one I have.” “I like it,” she whispered. “It’s a good face,” she added just before closing her eyes again, sagging forward.

“Shannon,” she whispered. Her eyelids drooped a little but quickly sprung back open when I nudged her cheeks. “Like the river,” she added with a small sigh. I chuckled at her response. “Well, Shannon like the river,”

“I believe you.” Her small voice broke through my thoughts. “You could never be posh.” “And why’s that?” “Because you curse like a sailor.” I laughed at her reasoning. “Yeah, you’re probably right about that.”

“No one is going to say a word about you.” “But they all saw me—” “Nobody is going to open their mouth about it.” Realizing my tone was bordering on angry, I brought it down a notch and tried again. “Not the team, Coach, or anyone else. I won’t let them.” She blinked her confusion. “You won’t let them?” “That’s right,” I confirmed with a nod. “I won’t let them.” “You promise?” she whispered, a tiny smile pulling at her swollen lips. “Yeah,” I replied gruffly, feeling like I would promise all the fucking promises

Thank fuck for that, because you’re ruining all of me right now, I thought to myself.

“Do you have a boyfriend?” Now why in the holy hell did I have to ask that? You are almost two years older than this girl, asshole! She’s too young for you. You know the rules. Stand the fuck down. “No,” she replied slowly, cheeks turning pink. “Do you?” “No, Shannon.” I smirked. “I don’t have a boyfriend.” “I didn’t mean—” Pausing, she exhaled a sigh and gnawed on her bottom lip, clearly flustered. “I meant—” “I know what you meant,” I filled in, unable to stop my smile from spreading, as I tucked that wandering curl back behind her ear. “I was just messing with you.”

Instead of the usual feeling of dread when I stepped off the bus, all I felt was immense relief. Relief to get away from my house. Relief to be off the bully radar. Relief to get away from my father. Relief to be able to breathe for seven hours of the day.

He was beautiful. Every single time I spotted him in the hallways, it was as if every delayed urge, feeling, and hormone that had been lying dormant inside of my body for the last fifteen years had erupted to life. I was achingly aware of him; my body shifting into high alert whenever our arms brushed in

“Boys with pretty eyes and big muscles mess everything up for girls,” Claire huffed. “Yep,” I agreed weakly. “They certainly do.” “What are we like?” Claire chuckled half-heartedly. “Both liking the worst possible thing for us.” “Me?” I shook my head and jumped into denial mode. “I don’t like anyone.” “Yeah, right,” Claire scoffed. “Don’t even try to pretend, Little Miss Blush. I see the way you watch him.” “Claire.” I shook my head and sighed. “You’re imagining things.” “Oh, look,” she gasped, pointing behind me. “Johnny’s coming over here.”

“W-what?” Startled, I swung around to discover she was lying. “Ha,” Claire snickered. “I knew it.” “Not funny,” I mumbled, patting my burning cheeks. “Don’t worry, Shan,” she replied, smiling knowingly. “Your secret’s safe with me.”

Shannon Lynch had eyes the color of midnight blue that wouldn’t stay the fuck out of my head.

“You know you want to,” Gibsie laughed, twiddling his fingers at her in salute. “My little brown-eyed girl.” “Don’t do it, Gerard!” Claire’s face turned bright red. “Don’t you dare sing that—” Gibs cut her off with a verse of Van Morrison. “I hate you, Gerard Gibson!” Claire hissed when he was done serenading her like a demented crow. “And I love you, too,” he said, laughing, before turning his attention to me and stifling a groan. “Jesus Christ,” he groaned so that only I could hear him. “I swear to god, lad, that girl drives me crazy.”

“Go on, Gerard,” Claire coaxed, shoving Gibsie toward the tub. “You can do this. I have every faith in you.” “Ah fuck, okay! Okay!” With his arms stretched out, Gibsie prowled toward the cat. “Here, kitty, kitty,” he coaxed, reaching over the tub to pick him out. “Good pussy… That’s right… I love pussies… I do… I won’t hurt you—ahhhhh!” Brian snarled and whacked a paw at Gibsie, who, in turn, screamed like a girl and dove behind Claire. “Bad fucking pussy,” he choked out,

“That’s not true,” I coaxed, crouching down in front of the bathtub, eyes locked on the stunning, albeit lethal cat. “You’re not a bastard, are you, Brian?” I asked as I reached out and stroked Brian’s head. Surprisingly, he let me stroke him without fuss. “Meow,” he croaked out, hackles retracting. “It’s okay,” I soothed, stroking him in a gentle pattern. “You’re okay.” “Jesus Christ,” Gibsie breathed. “Your girl here is like the pussy whisperer.”

“Lovely girl,” he added thoughtfully. “Horrible family.” “What do you mean?” Hughie shook his head but didn’t reply. That bothered me for a whole host of different reasons. I didn’t like him knowing things about her that I didn’t. “I’m going to go check on Precious in the bath,” he announced when he finished his glass. “And then I’m putting my head down for the night.” “Take whatever room you want,” I mumbled, deep in thought. Hughie placed a hand on my shoulder. “Keep looking out for her, Cap,” he said, squeezing my shoulder. “God knows someone needs to.” And then he was gone.

His black-and-white-striped jersey with the number 13 on the back was sewn to his skin; the white shorts he had on were grass stained and specked with blood. Both of his knees were caked in mud. His hair was ruffled and slick from sweat. One of his eyes was turning purple and swelling at a rapid pace, and he had a steady trail of blood flowing down his eyebrow, but it didn’t seem to faze him one bit. Johnny’s attention wasn’t on the medic or the referee shouting commands in his ear. He was too busy looking at me.

“Hi, Johnny.” What was wrong with me? Seriously? Did I just wave at him? While I was talking to him? God… The smile he was sporting grew into a full, perfectly straight pearly-white smile. “Hi, Shannon.”

“Johnny, baby,” my asshole best friend called out with feigned passion in his voice, pointing his strapped-up fingers in my direction. “This one’s for you,” he snickered before bursting into song, crooning along to the lyrics that had become the bane of my life since I strolled onto a pitch with these culchie assholes in sixth class.

“I don’t think there’s any point in denying it,” I whispered, feeling my face burn at the thought. “I like him, Claire. I think I really like him.”

“Obviously not,” he snorted. “Now go home and pack your shit.” He waggled his brows before taking a bite from Claire’s apple. “Because you’re checking into Hotel Gibson for the week,” he added midchew. “Fun times.” “Oh really?” Claire leaned back in her chair and smirked. “And does Hotel Gibson come with good reviews?” “It comes with cock, Claire-Bear,” Gibsie announced—and not quietly. “An unlimited supply of five-star cock.” “Say it louder,” she hissed, slapping his shoulder. “I don’t think everyone heard you.” “It comes with cock, Claire!” he taunted, accepting her challenge without an ounce of shame. “My cock.” “Fuck your cock,” Claire growled, looking mortified.

“Lizzie, it’s okay,” Claire began to say but Lizzie cut her off. “It’s not okay,” she snapped. “He’s been doing this since we were four. It’s wrong!” “I’m not screwing around with her feelings,” Gibsie replied, looking confused. “She knows I love her.” Claire turned beet red, causing Lizzie to growl.

“Bye, Johnny,” I told him in a small voice. His features softened instantly as he looked down at me and smiled. “Bye, Shannon.”

“It’s okay, Shan,” he whispered, comforting me. “I’m sorry,” I choked out, tightening my hold on his neck. Tears spilled over my cheeks. “I’m so sorry, Joe.” “It’s not your fault, Shan.” “But I made him mad—” “Not your fault,” my brother repeated, tone stern. “I don’t want to be here anymore, Joe.” “Me neither.” “I’m sick of feeling scared all the time.”

“Please don’t do to me what Darren did to us.” Folding my hands under my cheek, I whispered, “Don’t leave me.” “I won’t,” my brother vowed, tone laced with grit and sincerity. “I won’t ever leave you here with him.”

“You are so concerned with fighting the bullies at school, Mam,” I sobbed, tears streaming down my cheeks, “when the biggest bully of them all lives under this roof.”

“What happened?” he demanded, glaring down at me. “Who the fuck made you cry?” “What?” I breathed, shaking my head. “I’m not crying.” “Your eyes are red and swollen,” he deadpanned. “You’ve been crying.” His eyes moved to my cheek. “The fuck happened to your face?” “What?” “Your face,” he bit out. “Your cheek is red.”

“Give me a name,” Johnny growled, dropping his hands to his hips. “And I’ll take care of it.” “What—no! I’m grand,” I quickly replied. “I have allergies.” “Me too. To assholes and bullshit,” Johnny snarled. “Now, tell me who made you cry and I’ll fix it.”

“You want me to?” Shannon asked in a small voice. “Come with you?” I nodded uncertainly. “Yeah, Shannon.” My voice was thick. “I want you to come with me.”

“Relax,” Johnny whispered in my ear, distracting me from my memories. “You’re safe with me.”

That word. God. That one word broke me. It was all too much. My life. Those girls. My father. And in the middle of it all, I could only see him. This boy.

“Now,” I sneered, glaring down at their faces. “Who wants to call my girlfriend a whore to my face?”

“Yeah, Shan.” Offering me a small smile, he reached for his bottle of water and took a swig. “You’re good for me.” “Huh?” “It,” he correctly gruffly, and then roughly cleared his throat. “It’s good for me.”

You could love this girl your whole life, the crazy thought persisted inside my brain over and over, if you just let yourself.

He started the engine and had just pulled onto the road when I felt the car brake suddenly. “What the fuck?” Joey barked seconds before two hands slammed down on the hood of his car. “Get off my car, asshole!” “You’re stealing my center,” Gibsie roared in the window as he leaned over the hood of the car. “Give him back.” His eyes darted from Joey to me, recognition sparking. “Hey, Cap.” He grinned, head lolling to one side. “How’s it going? I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

“Hey.” Suddenly realizing he was in the company of strangers, Gibsie leaned through the middle of their seats and asked, “Who the fuck are you guys?” “Johnny’s friends with my boyfriend’s sister,” Aoife explained. “Sister?” The word seemed to confuse Gibsie, who stared blankly at me for several moments. Throwing a prayer up to the heavens that he could control himself, I nodded and said, “Shannon.” Gibsie sank back beside me and frowned. “Shannon?” “Yes, Shannon.” I glared at him. Gibsie’s eyes widened then, awareness suddenly dawning on him. “Oh,

Shannon!” he exclaimed. “Ah, yeah, little Shannon from third year.” Grinning, he nudged me in the ribs. “Johnny here has a fierce soft spot for your sister.” “Is that right?” Joey replied tightly. Oh fuck. “Yeah, he’s always looking out for her at school,” Gibsie added with a wink. “Making sure she’s not getting into any hassle.” I bit back a groan and resisted the urge to wrap my hands around his neck and choke the life out of him.

“Are you going to tell me about it?” Oh, Jesus. What? The fuck did he want me to tell him? I racked my brain and came up with nothing PG so I kept my mouth shut. “Ciara Maloney’s boyfriend,” Joey filled in, giving me an odd look. “Some fella from Tommen beat the shit out of him in town yesterday.” “Oh?” I arched a brow and folded my arms across my chest. “Is that so?” Joey smirked. “Yeah, it is.” “Well, I hope he fucked him up,” I slurred, feeling my body thrum with anger at the memory of those nasty fucking girls. “Heard his girlfriend’s a bitch.” “I heard he was in a bad way,” Joey replied. “Broken nose. A few stitches.” “How awful,” I drawled.

“I think you need to buy that girl a ring, Joe,” I announced as I read and then reread the note Aoife had left on my brother’s bedside locker on Sunday morning. “She’s a keeper.” “Yeah,” Joey muttered, scratching his jaw. “She must really love me.” “Uh, you think?” I rolled my eyes. “She adores you.” “But I don’t get why she would do this for me.”

“You’ll make a great dad someday.” I decided to tease and make him even more uncomfortable. Joey snorted. “Yeah, that’s never fucking happening.” I winked. “Never say never, Joe.” “Believe me, I’ve had more than enough of playing daddy to another man’s kids to last me a lifetime,” he shot back.

“You guys can’t go home yet. We haven’t had tea and chats,” Gibsie piped up. “And I have scones baking in the oven.” “You baked scones?” I asked, momentarily distracted. “You?” “Yes, me,” Gibsie shot back, looking slightly wounded. “I’ll have you know that I’m a wonderful baker.”

“I’m going to be there one day,” Johnny stated, tilting his head in the direction of the telly. “One of these days that’s going to be me, Shannon.” “I know,” I replied, believing every word. Biting down on my lip, I turned to face him and said, “Don’t forget about me when you’re a rich and famous rugby player.” “You never know,” he said with a smirk. “I might take you with me so you can cheer me on in the stands.” Please do. Please take me away with you.

She’s So Lovely

“Bye, Johnny,” Shannon whispered as Joey started the engine. She moved to close the car door, but my hand snaked out, stopping her from closing it. She looked up at me with those big blue eyes. Stay. Stay with me, Shannon. I can keep you safe… “Bye, Shannon,” I told her instead, and with a reluctance that bordered on regret, I closed the door. The tires of her brother’s car skidded as he tore out of my driveway. Standing in the pouring rain, I watched him take her away from me.