Keeping 13 (Boys of Tommen, #2)

by Chloe Walsh

“Don’t you fucking dare try and talk your way out of this!” Pointing an accusatory finger at our mother, he snarled, “Just do the right thing for once in your fucking life and put him out.”

I knew she was afraid of him, I understood what it felt like to be petrified of the man in our kitchen, but she was the grown-up. She was supposed to be the adult, the mother, the protector, not the eighteen-year-old boy whose shoulders that role had fallen onto.

“Him or us,” Joey repeated the same question over and over, tone growing colder. “Him or us, Mam?” Him or us.

Promises made, promises broken—the Lynch family motto.

“I want you to know that I hate you more right now than I have ever hated him.” His body was shaking, his hands balled into fists at his sides. “I want you to know that you are no longer my mother—not that I ever had one of those to begin with.”

“From this moment on, you are dead to me. All your shit? Handle it yourself. The next time he hits you? I won’t be there to shield you. The next time he drinks all the money and you can’t feed the kids or get the electricity switched back on? Find some other asshole to get cash from. The next time he throws you down the staircase or breaks your fucking arm in one of his whiskey tantrums? I’ll turn a blind eye just like you did right here in this kitchen. From this day on, I won’t be there to protect you from him, just like you weren’t there to protect us.”

How could she love him when she feared him so much?

“You think you have a life without me? You are nothing without me, bitch!” Dad roared, eyes wild and full of unrestrained madness. “The only way you’re leaving me is in a box, girl! I’ll kill you before I let you leave me. Do ya hear me? I’ll burn this fucking house to the ground with you and your cunts in it before I let you go.”

“Stop.” A small cry tore from Ollie’s throat as he clutched Joey’s leg. “Make him stop,” he sobbed, clinging to our brother as if he held all the answers. “Please.”

Years of mistreatment, mixed with the beating I had just taken, had driven me to the point where at sixteen years old, I couldn’t stand on my own two feet.

“Tadhg, put down the knife,” Mam cried, moving slowly toward him. “Please, baby.” “Fuck you,” Tadhg shot back, never taking his eyes off our father. “Get. Off. My. Brother.” Do it, Tadhg, I silently prayed, make him stop forever.

He was eleven years old and this was what they had turned him into. I was praying for him to kill our father,

“Something’s wrong,” I bit out, feeling woozy and light-headed. “Shannon.”

I shook my head, at a complete loss. “Ma,” I croaked out hoarsely, “I’m telling you, there’s something wrong.” “What makes you so sure?” “Because—” Exhaling heavily, I sagged against the wall and shrugged helplessly. “I can feel it.”

But she won’t be, a small voice in the back of my head hissed, and you know why.

“I don’t think you should play anymore, Johnny.” “I’m going to play, Ma,” I replied quietly.

“I think it’s her da, Gibs.” Swallowing down my uncertainty, I looked my best friend straight in the eyes and said, “I think Shannon’s father is abusing her.”

“Something’s happening to her, Gibs,” I choked out, feeling my heart hammer against my chest. “I can feel it in my bones.”

“Who’s hurting you, baby? I’ll fix it.” “It’s a secret.” “I won’t tell.” “My father.”

“Think he’ll represent me, too?” Gibsie asked. Shrugging, he added, “When you’re embarking on hell, it’s always good to have a buddy.”

“Have you ever thought about why there’s so many of us? Why she kept having children with that man? Why she wouldn’t leave?” Darren snapped, glaring at the both of us. “Or why she’s all fucked up in the head like she is? Have you ever thought maybe she stayed because she was terrified he would follow through on his threats? We’ve all heard the ‘I’ll kill you and the children if you leave me’ speech he’s been feeding her—since she was fifteen years old! For Christ’s sake, that man spent two decades breaking her down and telling her that he would kill her if she left! “Don’t you think that might have fucked her up in the head? Did you ever consider that she was there against her will? Having children against her will? Being raped and beaten and mentally abused to the point where she lost touch with reality? She was fifteen years old when she had me—fourteen when she was pregnant!” he added. “Think about that for a minute. Think about how fucking frightened she must have been when she was thrown into a life with that monster. She doesn’t have a mother or father to show her the way. All she had in the whole fucking world was him. She was a baby having babies and it broke her!”

“I have a partner,” he offered, sounding a little uncertain. “His name is Alex. We’ve been together three years. We share a small apartment on the outskirts of the city center.” “Does he love you?” I asked. Darren nodded. “Yeah, he loves me, Shan.” “I’m glad.” Dropping my gaze to my hands, I cracked my knuckles and tried to find the right words. “I was always on your side.” My voice was small. “I wanted you to be happy—to find someone who loves you. I never cared about whether that was a boy or a girl. I always wanted you to know that.”

“Did you know that Sean called Joey ‘Da-Da’ until he was two?” I interrupted sharply. My eyes were wide and full of unshed tears, my hands balled into fists and shaking at my sides. “Sean actually thought his brother was his daddy. I suppose it would be an easy mistake to make, you know, considering Joey sat up most nights doing his night feeds and changing his nappies when Mam was working nights or drowning in her depression. So, go ahead and tell Sean how irrelevant Joey is. Or better still, tell Ollie and Tadhg that every time Joey slept outside their bedroom door, for fear our father would go after them, was irrelevant. Tell them about how all the beatings Joey took for them were irrelevant. Tell me how irrelevant the brother who fed us when we were starving, stuck up for us when we had no one, gave us money when we needed it for school—” My voice cracked and I dragged in several deep breaths before I could continue. “Tell me how irrelevant he is, Darren,” I choked out, feeling the burning protest of my lungs from the sudden exertion. “Go right ahead and do it!”

Unwilling to answer her, I remained rigid and motionless, my eyes taking in the faint bruising on a cheekbone on her gaunt face. Why do you do this to yourself? I wanted to ask. Why do you let him treat you this way?

I shook my head, furious with her words. “I don’t give a shit about your precious Darren,” I spat out, hating myself for crying in front of her. “He means nothing to me.”

“You can’t fix this, Mam,” I replied, trembling. “It’s like that story about Humpty Dumpty. Nothing will put him back together again. Dad threw him off the wall, and you lost the pieces to put him back together.”

Do you hear me? I’m here, I’m in, I care, and I’m not going the fuck away.”

Swallowing down a surge of anger at the complete fucking injustice that it was to be a teenager in this world,

“You know I love ya back,” I mumbled, embarrassed and uncomfortable. “You might drive me demented most days, but I’d be lost without ya.”

“He’s doing this because he’s in pain and nobody is hearing him.” And especially not you!

“You’re failing him,” I whispered, unable to stop the words from pouring out. “Just like they did.”

“Because I love him,” I snapped, losing my cool. Blinking wildly when I realized what I had said, I debated taking it back before steeling my resolve. “I love him,” I repeated, more firmly this time. “And that has nothing to do with trauma or my family and everything to do with him!”

“Thanks,” I squeezed out, feeling a huge swell of emotion surge up inside of me. I turned around to face him. “I owe you one.” Tadhg shifted around, looking uncomfortable. “Yeah, well, if you want to do me a favor, then find my brother.”

What if Shannon’s dad came back and he didn’t get prosecuted? What if my body didn’t heal in time for the tour? What if he came back and her mother took him back? What if the coaches overlooked me for that Danny Miller kid from Galway? What if she didn’t come back to school next week? What if this was it for me? What if she was put into care and had to change schools? What if I’d played my last game in Dublin? What if she got hurt again? What if, what if, what if…

Sinking down on the bed, I exhaled a pained breath and tried to wrestle in my emotions before speaking again. “Listen,” I began, slightly calmer now, “I’m not asking you to take me to the gym. I’m not going near a bleeding rugby ball, and I’m not asking you to lie for me.” Looking him dead in the eyes, I said, “I am asking you to take me to her because I can’t fucking get there on my own. And I need to…and she needs me to…” My words broke off and I pinched the bridge of my nose. “If you don’t help me and something happens to her, I swear I’ll never forgive you for it, Gibs.” I’ll never forgive me.

Darren leaned against the doorframe and folded his arms across his chest. “Who wants to know?” “Me.” He arched a brow. “And who is me?” “I’m her—” “He’s her Johnny,” Claire blurted out.

“She was neglected and abused in her own home. She was tortured outside of it. It’s a fucking miracle she’s still standing. So no, I won’t fucking calm down!” I snarled.

“Hi, Johnny,” she whispered, tumbling off the door step as she clung to me. “You came back.” “Hi, Shannon.” My crutches fell to the ground as I wrapped my arms around her body, holding her in place. “I promised I would,” I replied, keeping my eyes narrowed and locked on her brother.

“Damn straight you are,” he said, tone encouraging. “Little fighter.”

“I’ve already told you,” Darren growled. “She’s not—” “I want to stay with my friends for a while,” I mumbled, surprising everyone. I felt four pairs of eyes land on my face and my cheeks burned. Stiffening my spine, I looked at my brother and said, “I’m going to spend some time with my friends.”

“Where I know you’re safe? All I want to do is just…” Shaking his head, he pulled me closer. “Keep you right here with me and never give you back.” Oh god, I want that, too. I want you to keep me.

“You love his sister, and I love his sister’s best friend,”

“No?” Tortured green eyes locked on mine. “You saw her. Saw what he did to her. And I didn’t… I couldn’t—” His words broke off and he dropped his head in his hands. “Fuck it. What’s the point?” “It’s not your fault,” I replied slowly, brow furrowing. “You have to know that.” More silence. “I didn’t mean it,” I tried again. “What I said on the phone. It was my panic talking, lad.”

Dropping his gaze to his knees, Joey whispered, “I couldn’t protect her.” Shaking his head, he exhaled a broken sob. “I couldn’t protect any of them.”

“I thought she was dead,” he confessed in a voice so low it was barely audible. “All the blood? On the floor? On the walls? On my clothes? Coming out of her mouth? Those gargling sounds she was making because she couldn’t breathe? Because she was fucking dying! And then the silence? The sound of nothing at all?” He pressed the heels of his hands against his eyes and hissed, “I can’t get the image out of my head—and believe me, I’ve tried.”

“I couldn’t get him off me,” he choked out, chest heaving. “I knew she needed help—I fucking knew it—but I couldn’t fight him off. I couldn’t do anything!” Shaking his head, he let out a humorless laugh as tears trickled down his cheeks. “And my brother, my eleven-year-old baby brother, had to get him off me.” Sniffing, he wiped his nose with the back of his hand and choked out a harsh sob. “While she stood by and did nothing.” “Your mother?” “Who else.”

“He can figure it all out because I’m done. I c-can’t f-fucking—” His words broke off and he exhaled another hitched sob. “D-do this anymore,” he finished with a sniffle. “I c-can’t forget and I won’t ever forgive.”

“Your sister loves you,” I told him, feeling the need to tell him that so that he knew at least one person in his world cared. “My sister loves you,” he replied wearily. “She needs you,” I added, ignoring the way my heart slammed wildly in my chest. “And from what I hear, your little brothers need you too, lad.” “Because I’m foundations,” he choked out. “That’s it. That’s all I am to them.” “Foundations?” I frowned. “What does that mean?” “It means I’m the guy who goes around cleaning up everyone else in my family’s shit.” He dropped his head and clasped the back of his neck. “It means I’m the fucking mother.” “Well.” I exhaled heavily and stretched my legs out, trying to ease the burn in my thighs. “You’re one hell of a mother, Joey the hurler.”

“Shit,” he choked out, and then laughed humorlessly. “Where the fuck were you when I was sixteen, Kavanagh?” Sniffing, he wiped his eyes and sighed dejectedly. “Could’ve done with the pep talk back then.” “Wrong school,” I offered with a half-hearted shrug. “Wrong life,” he whispered. I sighed heavily. “Yeah.”

So this is their life, I thought. This is what she was hiding from me.