Redeeming 6 (Boys of Tommen, #4)

by Chloe Walsh

I thought the worst image I could see today was that of my mother cradling her premature, underdeveloped baby, followed closely by the screaming and keening and begging that had incurred when it was time to leave him behind at the hospital. It had taken me hours to get her to leave him. I thought that was the worst of it. The worst that could possibly happen. I was wrong. Walking into the kitchen tonight and seeing my father with his hands on my girlfriend—with her bent over the table like a fucking dog, with her underwear around her ankles and his jeans undone—was worse. So much fucking worse. Trembling violently in the passenger seat of the car, Molloy had refused point-blank to look at me as she wrapped her arms around herself, knees bopping restlessly. “Get me the fuck away from these people, Joey.” It didn’t take a genius to decipher that she included me in that sentiment. She couldn’t bear to look at me, and I didn’t fucking blame her one bit. Jesus Christ. It had finally happened. The bullshit that was my life had finally broken her. The look in her eyes? Fuck, she had looked at me like I was the enemy, too. “I was supposed to be at work…” “I wasn’t supposed to be there…” “Where were you?” She blamed me. She didn’t say it in so many words, but I knew she did. This was my fault. I was on my own until Molloy. She came into my life and all of a sudden, I had a partner, a friend, a true equal who was willing to go down in flames with me. And my father took that away fro...