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“You can keep me.”
“Johnny, I love you.” “Thank fuck,”
“I’m only ever thinking about you,” he replied. “Only you.”
“It’s mine.”
“But you will, right?” he asked, looking forlorn. “Someday?” “Someday,” I whispered in his ear. “I promise.”
“Don’t leave me,” he groaned then, face contorting in pain. “I’m no more good…but don’t go?” “What?” “I’m…broken.”
“I think I need you for keeps,” he slurred. “I think I need you for keeps, too,” I confessed.
“That very first day. Boom.” “Boom?” I giggled. He nodded solemnly. “Boom.”
“If this is love, then it’s you,” he replied, dragging me down to lie beside him. “Huh?” I asked as I slid onto my side and tried my best not to poke at his legs. “You,” he mumbled sleepily, dropping a heavy arm around my shoulders. “Me what?” I whispered as I placed my hand on his stomach and snuggled into his side. “You are love.” He sighed contently. “Stay with me.” Always. “I’ll stay with you,” I whispered, feeling more in this moment than I could handle.
“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
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“No, just my da,” I warned her. “Only my da.”
“I’ll go?” she said, but it was more of a question. I nodded stiffly, resisting the urge to beg her to stay and hold me and make promises neither of us could keep. She couldn’t fix this for me, and I was terrified of losing more than I already had. I knew she was fragile and I didn’t want to scare her away. If she stayed in this room, that’s exactly what I was going to end up doing. If I did that—if she saw the ugly side of me, the weakness in me—I would lose her, too. I couldn’t lose her, too.
“Morning, stud,” he said with a smirk. “Da,” I choked out, tears streaming down my cheeks. The minute Dad saw my expression, his smirk fell.
And it was right there that I cried like a fucking child on my father’s shoulder.
For the millionth time in my life, I found myself looking up at the man that raised me and thinking: Will I ever be as strong as you?
“It’s devastating. Your mother and I understand. You might not think we do, but we brought you into this world, and every single painful moment in your life that you endure, and every obstacle you stumble over, we’re there, Johnny. We’re right behind you, feeling everything. Your pain and frustration and fears. It’s all mirrored back to us. Your achievements are ours and your heartache is ours. Because you are all we have, Johnny. Just you. That’s it.”
With those words, I felt a small root of hope shoot up inside of me. I could pull this back from the edge. I could do it. My dad thought I could do it.
“She left me,” I croaked out. This was it. This was the start of it. I wasn’t worth shit without rugby.
“No. She stayed with you,” Dad corrected. “When you were demented out of your head and anyone in their right mind would have run for the hills, that girl stayed right by your bedside, listening to you talk out of your arse.” “Yeah, well, she’s gone now, isn’t she?” I muttered, feeling thoroughly fucking sorry for myself. “When your back was to the wall last night, who sat here with you?” I stared at him. “Who held your hand, Johnny?” “Dad—” “Who waited for the ambulance with you?” “Dad, stop–” “Who came to check on you when you were at your worst?”
My father. My father. Why the fuck was I hearing Shannon say those words? And why was my heart telling me it was vital?
My father. My father. What was I missing here?
Therefore, I wasn’t surprised when the first thing that greeted me when I stepped through the front door on Saturday evening was my father’s fist.
Poor shan i can't… :'((
You’re back in that room with Johnny. He’s telling you he loves you. You’re okay.
Joey. I could hear Joey. He was here. And suddenly the pain was gone. The kicking stopped. The feel of two pairs of hands wrapping around my body filled my senses—what was left of them—and I opened my eyes to the sight of my little brothers attempting to protect my body with theirs.
“You promised you’d never leave me.”
My entire focus was on our parents. “You’re bleeding,” Mam choked out as she dabbed at Dad’s face with the sleeve of her jumper. “Oh god, Teddy.” Her words caused Joey’s entire frame to tense. “Are you fucking blind?” he roared. Swinging around to face them, he gently brushed my hair off my face and pointed to me. “She is bleeding,” Joey snarled, pointing to my face. “Shannon. Your daughter!”
I didn’t care what I looked like anymore. It didn’t matter. Because my mother had just ended my world. She went to him. He beat us. Terrorized us. Tortured us. And she went to him. She chose him. Our own mother.
“Don’t fucking speak to her, creep!” Joey roared, taking a menacing step toward him. “I will kill you,” he seethed, tone deathly cold and terrifyingly sincere. “Do you hear me? I will slit your fucking throat if you so much as look at my sister again.”
Ollie, Tadhg, and Sean all hurried into the kitchen then with backpacks on their backs. All three of them went straight to Joey. Because he was our protector. He was the reason we were all in one piece. He was our hero.
“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?”
