Binding 13 (Boys of Tommen, #1)

by Chloe Walsh

It mattered that she mattered when no one ever mattered to me before.

My brain’s track of choice: Shannon like the river, with the gorgeous blue eyes, face of an angel, and the troubled past.

“What happened?” he demanded, glaring down at me. “Who the fuck made you cry?”

“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.”

“Look at me.” I didn’t. “Look at me,” he repeated, tone calm and coaxing. I couldn’t. I felt him shift beside me and then his fingers were on my chin, tipping my face up to his. “You’re safe,” he whispered, cupping my cheek in his hand, eyes boring holes straight through my soul. “I promise.”

“I’ll protect you, Shannon like the river.” He held my hand. Johnny Kavanagh actually put my hand in his.

This girl is different, my stupid fucking brain chanted. This one is for keeps.

“Where are we heading?” Straight to your house because I wanna fuck your sister, I thought to myself. I smirked at the fabulous notion, and then hunted the crazy thought away with a shake of my head. Probably love her, too, I mused to myself, a fucking lot, before pushing that madness out as well.

“Someone touched you,” Johnny whispered in my ear, placing his fingers on the marks. “I want to know who.”

“Tell me who put their hands on you,” he coaxed as he stood behind me, my face in his hand and his fingers on my throat. “And I’ll make it better.”

“Can I get you something?” she quickly asked. “What would you like to eat?” You. I would like to eat you, Shannon.

“I should go,” I groaned as I dragged her on my lap, unable to stop myself from thrusting upward. Fuck the pain in my groin. I was on fire for this girl. Shannon wrapped her arms around my shoulders and gingerly rocked her hips on top of me in the best, most fucked-up hug I’d ever received. “I don’t want you to go,” she moaned. She actually fucking moaned in my ear.

SHANNON LIKE THE RIVER. WILL YOU PLEASE BE MY FRIEND? Two hand-drawn boxes were sketched below the writing. One box had a yes over it, and the other had a no. The yes box had a smiley face. The no box had a sad face. At the bottom of the page were the words: SIGNED BY alongside a slightly crooked line with his signature scrawled across it. Beneath the line with Johnny’s name was an empty line for my name and he had dated the note January 10, 2005, my first day at Tommen. A side note stating: PS: SHANNON PROMISES NOT TO SUE JOHNNY WHEN HE’S SIGNED FOR THE PROS FOR ANY INJURIES HE MAY OR MAY NOT HAVE CAUSED HER ON THE DATE MENTIONED ABOVE. THIS IS A VALID DISCLAIMER, I SHIT YOU NOT took up the last few lines of the page.

If feelings were objects, then I was teetering on the edge of a great precipice, and if girls were weapons, then Shannon Lynch was the greatest weapon of mass destruction my heart had ever been exposed to. Because I was fucked.

I wanted to fight all her battles. I wanted to give her all her smiles and make her laugh and snatch her away from the rest of the world and keep her all to myself. I just wanted her. For keeps.

Months of wanting, lusting, and pining after her had left me at a point where I couldn’t see straight anymore. Because I had caught feelings for Shannon. Huge fucking feelings. Permanent ones.

But I already felt like I was drowning with her. That’s how consumed I was in this girl. That’s how much I loved her. Fuck.

Johnny Kavanagh was kissing me back. He had his tongue in my mouth, his hand in my hair, and my heart in his pocket.

“Am I hurting you?” I asked against his lips. “Only if you stop.” He knotted his hand in the back of my hair and deepened the kiss.

“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.”

“Hi, Johnny.” “Boom, boom, fucking boom, Da,” I groaned, slapping a hand against my chest. “I’m done for.”

“I think I need you for keeps,” he slurred. “I think I need you for keeps, too,” I confessed. “You are so pretty,” he slurred. “That very first day. Boom.”

“Who’s making you sad?” he asked then, voice slurred and sleepy. “Tell me, baby.” “Nobody, Johnny.” “You lie and it hurts my heart,” he groaned, tightening his hold on me. “All those marks. It hurts when I know someone’s hurting my Shannon.” “Johnny—” “Who’s hurting you, baby?” he slurred sleepily. He yawned loudly and then sighed. “I’ll fix it.” “It’s a secret,” I breathed, feeling my body shake. “I won’t tell,” he whispered. Inhaling a trembling breath, I clenched my eyes shut and pressed my lips to his ear. “My father.” I waited several beats for him to say something. He didn’t. When I opened my eyes and looked at his face, I realized why. Johnny was asleep.