Binding 13 (Boys of Tommen, #1)

by Chloe Walsh

“Does it hurt when I touch you like this?” “It hurts,” he replied, tone hoarse. Exhaling a heavy breath, I stroked his thigh and fought the urge to press a kiss to his cut. “For an entirely different reason,” he croaked out. And that’s when I noticed what I was doing—what I had been doing for the last minute or so. I was sitting on my knees between his legs, stroking his inner thigh, trying to soothe his ache away. My eyes flicked to the danger zone and my mouth ran dry. So that’s why people referred to it as pitching a tent. I wasn’t sure that statement applied to this particular breed of teenage boy because Johnny wasn’t just pitching a tent in those jocks—he was pitching a marquee

Releasing a low groan, he pushed my hand away and moved to close his thighs, but I stopped him. I stopped him. “No,” I mumbled, voice breathy and soft. I could feel the heat of his stare on my face. He moved to close his legs again and I shook my head. His eyes were open again, his pupils were dark and dilated. “What are you doing?” he whispered, biting down on his swollen bottom lip. I didn’t know what I was doing. I didn’t know what I was thinking. I couldn’t speak. I could barely breathe. I was losing my mind right here on my knees in the middle of a changing room in Dublin. And it was all his fault. A temporary slip in sanity caused me to lean forward a press a kiss to his thigh. The sound that tore from Johnny’s chest was a pained, guttural groan. “Shannon, please—” I kissed him again. “Fuck,” he grunted, legs shaking now. “I can’t…” The third time I kissed him, he fisted my hair and pulled my face to his. “Shannon,” Johnny groaned, sounding both pained and breathless, as he gently pressed his forehead to mine. “We can’t—” I silenced whatever he was about to say by putting my lips on his. And just like before, he turned to stone. “I’m sorry,” I strangled out, pulling back. “I did it again.” “It’s okay,” he told me, breathing hard just like before. “No, no, no,” I strangled out as I scrambled to my feet and lunged for the door. “You’re injured! You’re waiting to go to the hospital for Christ’s sake, and I just—oh god! I am so sorry.”

“Shannon, wait,” Johnny called out as he scrambled for his crutch. “Wait!” I didn’t wait. Instead, I did what I should have done earlier. I hightailed it away from Johnny Kavanagh. Hurrying over to the door, I yanked it open. It opened about four inches before slamming shut again—the palm pressed against it the reason, no doubt. “Wait,” he commanded, standing so close to me that I could feel his chest rising and falling against my neck. With my heart hammering in my chest, I swung around and stared up at Johnny as he caged me in with his big body. “I’m so sorry,” I whispered, unable to tear my eyes off his. “I just…I…” Shaking my head, I exhaled a ragged breath and whispered, “I shouldn’t have done that.” He shook his head and used his crutch to step closer, pressing his body flush against mine. “Me, too,” he replied gruffly, gaze flickering from my eyes to my mouth. “Why are you sorry?” I breathed, trembling from head to toe. He cupped my cheek with his free hand and tilted my chin up. “Because I shouldn’t do this,” he whispered. And then he kissed me. The moment his lips crushed against mine, a fierce blast of heat coursed through my body, igniting a delicious burning ache in ...

“Inappropriate behavior on school grounds, Kavanagh,” Coach Mulcahy snapped, casting glaring looks at both of us. “What the hell is wrong with you?” My gaze landed on the two amused-looking paramedics standing behind Coach, and I whimpered loudly. “We’re not on school grounds, sir,” Johnny replied calmly as he pulled me down to sit beside him. “You’re on school time,” Coach barked. “Actually, we’re not,” Johnny countered, taking my hand in his. I was incredibly grateful for his touch in this moment. It was grounding and steadying and stopped me from anxious puking. Something I was known for doing. “It’s half nine at night,” Johnny added with a shrug. “Well past school hours.” “It’s inappropriate behavior,” Coach bellowed, turning a furious glare on us. “Don’t give me technicalities. You’re both under eighteen.” Clearly furious, he added, “I’ll have to report this to Mr. Twomey and your parents.” “Oh god,” I strangled out, panicked. “Please don’t tell.” “A kiss?” Johnny sneered, tightening his hold on my trembling hand. “You’re going to report a fucking kiss?” He laughed humorlessly. “Take a walk down the aisle of that bus, Coach. Pretty sure you’ll find worse than kissing going ...

“He’s going to be okay, Shan,” she whispered, squeezing me tightly. “I’m sure of it.” “I feel like can’t breathe,” I confessed as teardrop after teardrop fell from my eyelashes. “Claire, I’m so scared for him, and my body is frozen.” “That’s understandable,” she replied, rubbing my arm soothingly. “Is it?” I strangled out, fighting back the urge to scream. “Because I have no idea why I feel like I’m dying right now.” Sniffling, I inhaled several shaky breaths, desperate to get my emotions under control. “I have never been so scared in my whole life.” “Shan,” Claire sighed softly. “You’re feeling like this because you care about Johnny.” Nodding, I clenched my eyes shut and tensed my body to stop the tremors from racking through me. “And maybe because you love him?” Exhaling a ragged breath, I rolled onto my back and turned my face to look at my best friend. “I’m so in love with him, Claire,” I confessed, and then I burst into tears. “I love him so much that the thought of him not being okay is killing me.” “Does Johnny know how you feel?” I shook my head and cried harder. “I shouldn’t have left him,” I sobbed. “I should have stayed with him.” “You couldn’t,” she said in a gentle tone. “Mr. Mulcahy would’ve never allowed you.” “He looked so scared, Claire,” I strangled out as my body racked with sobs. “You didn’t see him, but he was so scared. And then they took him away in that ambulance. I watched him go. I watched them take him away. And now? Now I don’t know where he is...

A soft knock on the door startled me and caused both of us to spring up on the bed. My eyes darted to the three sleeping girls and then back to Claire. She stared back at me, wide-eyed. “Girls,” a familiar muffled voice came from the other side of the hotel room door. “Let me in.” Claire held a hand up, motioning for me to stay where I was, before sliding off the bed and tiptoeing across the room. “Gerard?” she whispered, pressing her ear to the door. “Yeah, it’s me, babe,” Gibsie’s voice came from the other side. Thank god. Scrambling off the bed, I hurried to the door just as Claire pulled it open. We both winced when the hallway light almost blinded us both. “Hey,” Gibsie acknowledged as he stood in the doorway wrapped in a coat and beany cap. “Thought you’d be up.” “What’s happening?” Claire quickly asked him. “Have you heard anything?” “Is Johnny okay?” I demanded. “Is he out of surgery yet?” “Were you talking to his parents?” Claire asked. “Is his mam with him?” “Is he okay?” I repeated, voice rising. “One at a time, girls. Christ,” Gibsie muttered as he stepped back into the hallway and gestured for us to follow him. We both went without hesitation. “I just got off the phone from his dad,” Gibsie stated as he leaned against the wall, looking pale and exhausted. “This goes no further than the three of us,” he added, casting us both warning glances. “Is that clear?” We both nodded. Gibsie, in turn, nodded wearily. “He’s out of surgery. Everything went fine,” he quickl...

“Ready for a jailbreak?” he added with a grin. I looked to Claire, who was worrying her lip and shaking her head, before turning back to Gibsie. Forcing the image of my father’s face from my mind, I exhaled a ragged breath and nodded. “I’m ready.”

Was I stoned? Did Gibsie get me high? That bastard… “Johnny—it’s okay, son.” My father’s voice came from close by. “Don’t be pulling at your IV. You’ll hurt yourself.” “Da?” “I’m right here, son.” The sound of a chair scraping off tiles filled my ears. “Da,” I croaked out, calming when I felt his warm hand cover mine. “Where am I?” I couldn’t see him, but I knew he was close. His voice was right there by my ear, making me feel safe. His hand touched my forehead, brushing my hair back, just like he used to do when I was small. “You’re in the recovery room, son.” Jesus Christ, I was? I could just about remember the ambulance ride to the hospital. Everything was blurry. And painless. I had no pain. Nothing. “You had surgery, son,” my father explained. “Fuck,” I croaked out. “Is my dick still there?” “It’s still there.” Dad chuckled softly. “And my balls?” “Also there,” he mused. “All in working order.” I exhaled a ragged breath. “Thank Jesus.” “Do you remember the match last night?” he asked. “You were in a bad way, son.” “I remember the girl,” I slurred. “Why’s everything dark?” “Because you’re supposed to be sleeping,” my father told me. “It’s six o’clock in the morning. Still dark outside.” “So, no lights anywhere?” I asked, confused. “They’re all gone?” I heard his quiet laugh. “No lights for another few hours, Johnny.” “You’re sure my dick’s still there?” I kicked my feet, but they weren’t being cooperative. “I really like my dick, Da. I’ll cry if it’s gone.” “Most lads ...

“Da, there’s a girl,” I announced when the door clicked again. “I know, Johnny,” Dad said calmly. “That was your nurse.” “No, no, no,” I slurred, shaking my head. “There’s a girl, Da. A girl.” “Where, son?” “There’s a girl on the bus,” I slurred. “I need you to find her for me.” “There’s no girl, pet,” Dad coaxed. “There’s no bus, either. You’re jacked up on morphine.” “Oh, fuck,” I groaned. “Am I dying or something?” “No, Johnny, love, you’re not dying.” “Thank fuck,” I groaned. “’Cause I wanna see that girl again.” “Okay, Johnny. Just relax, buddy.” “No, no, no, Da. I’m serious,” I slurred. “I think I love that girl.” “Well, who’s this girl?” “She’s a river.” I sighed and closed my eyes. “I’m keeping her, Da.” “Okay, son,” he coaxed. “You keep the girl.” “She makes my heart go, like, whoa.” “Is that right?” he mused. “So bad, Da.” I sighed. “Boom, boom, fucking boom.” I shook my head. “All the time.” “Is he awake?” My mother’s voice filled my ears, followed by another flash of light and the sound of another door clicking. “He’s something alright.” Dad chuckled. “Johnny, love, it’s Mam.” “Ma,” I slurred, feeling her hand touch my cheek. “Don’t be pissed.” “I’m beyond pissed,” she sobbed. “You could have died.” “She crying, Da?” I slurred, slapping at something touching my nose. “It’s because I had sex.” Smirking, I added, “A lot of sex.” I laughed to myself but it sounded funny. “Just kidding, Ma…no pussy for me.” “Edel, love, he’s high as a kite,” I heard my father say. ...

“Is Johnny okay?” “Well,” she said, worrying her lip. “He’s a little off form right now, love.” Oh god. Concern burst to life inside of me. “Can I see him?” I forced myself to be brave and ask. Mrs. Kavanagh frowned. “Please? I’ll be really quick,” I begged, hoping his mother would take mercy on my fragile heart. “I just need to see him…uh, I mean, I need to check that he’s…okay.” With a heavy sigh, Mrs. Kavanagh nodded and gestured for me to go inside. On unsteady feet, I walked into the dark room, illuminated only by the lights of the city shining in from the other side of the windowpane. My eyes immediately darted to the bed in the middle of the room. There was a man sitting in a chair to Johnny’s right, and Gibsie was standing to his left. I instantly recognized the man as the one from the photograph in Johnny’s room that day. The hero. His father was holding Johnny’s hand, sitting right by his bedside, and looking like his son thirty years into the future. Meanwhile, I just stood there in the middle of his hospital room, with my heart hammering in my chest and my eyes glued to his slumped body. “Hi, Johnny,” I said, my voice barely more than a whisper. “Boom, boom, fucking boom, Da,” Johnny slurred, clutching his chest. “I’m done for.” His choice of words caused Gibsie to laugh loudly and Mrs. Kavanagh, who had rejoined us, to groan in despair. “Bring the lights back, Da,” Johnny instructed, slurring his words. “Light up the world. You need to see this girl.” “Johnny,...

“Fuck.” I dropped my head in my hands and ignored the searing pain that shot up my legs. “Fuck, Da, I was a complete dick to her when I woke up.” “Then fix it,” he replied calmly. “You don’t get it,” I strangled out, feeling like the worst piece of shit on the planet. “I panicked and I reacted on her, but she’s fragile, Da. She’s so… And I’m so in—” “Love with her?” Dad smirked. “Yes, we all know, Johnny. You shouted it from the rooftop last night.” “Shite,” I groaned. “Was she freaked out?” “Your mother certainly was.” Dad laughed. “When you told her Shannon would mother your children.” “Jesus Christ,” I whimpered. “Why didn’t you stop me?” “We couldn’t,” he replied. “You would only settle down for Shannon. You fell asleep in her arms.” Ugh. Christ.

This is it. This is the day you die.

“Get off her!” a voice cried out. My eyes landed on my eleven-year-old brother standing in the doorway and my heart sank. “No, Tadhg,” I strangled out. “Go back upstairs.” “Get the fuck out, boy,” Dad barked, releasing me. “If you know what’s good for ya.” “Leave my sister alone,” Tadhg growled, taking a step into the kitchen. “Your sister’s a cunt,” Dad slurred, focusing his attention on my little brother. “Are you going to defend a cunt, boy?” “Ollie,” Tadhg called out bravely. “Get help.” Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed my nine-year-old brother cowering in the hallway with three-year-old Sean tucked under his arm. All three boys were reincarnations of our father, with sandy blond hair and big brown eyes, and all three boys in this moment were staring at our father in horror. “Get your holes up that stairs before I redden them,” Dad snarled. Sean scrambled for the staircase and Ollie dove for the front door. But Tadhg stayed where he was. “You can’t do that to her,” he challenged, glaring at our father with his chin jutted out. “Joey says we don’t hit girls.” Shaking, I scrambled to my feet and hurried to intercept Tadhg before our father could. “Go next door to Fran and phone Joey,” I pleaded, as I tried to shove him out of the kitchen and out of harm’s way. Even though he was only eleven, he was already taller and stronger than me. But he was my little brother and I would protect him with my life. “Please, Tadhg,” I begged him. “Just go.” Tadhg wouldn’t budge. “...