Binding 13 (Boys of Tommen, #1)

by Chloe Walsh

“Binding thirteen,” Gibsie snickered as he tore off way too fucking fast for comfort. “Little Shannon blew that shit clean out of the water.” “Slow your ass down,” I barked, resisting the urge to snatch the wheel. “And what the hell does ‘binding thirteen’ mean?” “You don’t know about that?” I shook my head. “Obviously not since I’m asking you.” “That’s what they say, lad,” Gibsie explained. “Who?” I demanded as I grabbed ahold of the Oh Jesus handle and threw a few Hail Marys to the man upstairs. Don’t let this fucker kill me. “The girls at school,” Gibsie chuckled, pulling onto the main road without checking both ways and narrowly avoiding a milk van. “That’s what they say about you.” Oh, Jesus. I was going to die in this car. He was going to take my bleeding life. Sheepishly saluting the milkman who was shaking his fist at us, I turned to glare at Gibsie. “They call me ‘binding thirteen’?” I shook my head. “Why? I don’t get it.” “It’s not what they call you,” he corrected. “It’s what they want to do with you.” “What?” “You’re number thirteen.” He laughed. “And they want to bind with you.” He turned to waggle his brows at me. “Scrum style.” “That is…so fucking creepy,” I grumbled, shuddering. “Put your eyes on the road!” “One hundred percent,” Gibsie laughed, turning his attention back to the windscreen. “Claire told me about it last year. Said she overheard a bunch of sixth years talking about something called ‘Operation Binding Thirteen’ in the bathroom.” “Jesus Christ...