“Either you”—he pointed to our mother—“find some maternal instinct deep inside that cold fucking heart of yours and put that bastard out for good, or I’m taking these kids out of this house and they are never coming back.” “Joey,” Mam sobbed. “I’m so sorry—” “Don’t apologize,” my brother spat out. “Protect your children and put him out.” “Joey, I—” “Make a choice, Mam,” Joey snarled as he glared down at our mother. “Him or us?”
