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“Well, you can tell your father that it worked. Yes, you can. Tell your father that I expect his ass at the garage the minute your mother is home and back on her feet.”
“And tell your old fella that your grandad has a Burdizzo on hand if he gets any notions about giving you a brother or sister before he finishes his apprenticeship and puts a ring on your mother’s finger.” “Burdizzo?” Casey frowned. “The hell is that?” “It’s what they use on farms to sever a bull’s testicular cord,” I strangled out, thinking back to something Podge once told me.
Still, I held firm and allowed myself to be led by one of the few men in my life that I actually considered to be trustworthy.
“I heard he got a girl from his last school pregnant.” “I’m pretty sure he just got me pregnant by glaring at me.”
“Is he single?” “You’re not his type.” “What’s his type?” “His girlfriend.” I smirked to myself. Well, this was a turnup for the books. She was defending me.
“Fuck you?” He threw his head back. “I wouldn’t ride you into battle.”
“So, where’s your other half?” “Claire-Bear? She’s in the year below us.” “No, asshole. Kav.” “Oh!” Gibsie laughed. “Oh, you mean my other other half. He’s in honors maths.” Frowning, Gibsie muttered, “Cap’s in honors everything.” He chuckled to himself, clearly amused with something he was thinking about, before shaking his head and adding, “Fair bit of a genius is your future brother-in-law.”
It turned out that Gibsie had a lot of wild ideas, and I would know, since I was the misfortunate bastard with a class timetable identical to his, meaning we’d spent the first six classes of the day together. And oh yes, he saved a seat for me in every single one of those classes.
Johnny was an even bigger egghead than Kev and was primed for the illustrious 600-point leaving-cert score in June that only the academically gifted snagged.
“He’s aggressive and argumentative, not to mention downright vicious at the best of times.” Feely decided to throw his two cents into the conversation. “The fuck would you know about it?” I snapped, glaring at him. “You don’t know shit about me.” “Case in point,” Feely replied calmly.
“Like fuck I am,” I deadpanned. “If you pricks even think or imagine that I’m going to join your—” “You’ll get to hit people,” he cut me off by saying, “Repeatedly, legally, and without getting arrested. Consider it a physical form of therapy.”
I had a girlfriend and a son to go home to that I wouldn’t have if she hadn’t taken a second to talk me down from the edge that night. The thought of what could have happened—what would have happened—if she hadn’t intervened meant that I would be forever indebted to her. My son had a father because of her, and whenever the shit hit the fan for her, because it would hit the fan, then she would have my backing.
“Well, if it isn’t the broken boy and the comeback kid,” Claire Biggs chimed in as she strolled over to the lunch table and, seeing there weren’t any free seats, dropped onto Gibsie’s lap. “Oh, Jesus,” Gibs groaned, shifting around in discomfort. “I’m hardly a comeback kid, Claire-Bear,” he added as he concentrated really hard on something. Not getting a stiffy, I presumed. Yeah, we’d all been there. Poor bastard.
“If I’m broken, then what does that make you, Claire-Bear?” “I don’t know, Gerard,” she teased. “What does it make me?” “My it girl,” he purred, arms coming around her as he closed the space between their noses. “My everything girl.”
“Claire!” Hughie barked. “Get off his lap. Now.” “Okay, he’s definitely the annoying old bastard always ruining a moment,” Gibsie huffed, turning to glower at his friend.
Nah, screw that, those two are definitely fucking.
Where do I belong?” “Across town, in one of the council estates with the rest of your scummy kind.” Grinning, the bigger lad added, “But you can leave your sister here with us, since she so willingly opens her legs for Cap—” “You’re a fucking dead man, McGarry!” came Tadhg’s feral roar just as I shoved through the crowd and reached his side.
“Poor bastard’s clearly never had the taste of pussy in his life. Walk away, kid.” Laughter erupted around us, all at the asshole’s expense. “I’ve seen plenty of pussy,” the lad snarled, face turning a bright shade of red. “Coming out of your mother’s hole doesn’t count, lad,” Tadhg shot back as I pulled him away. “Sorry to disappoint ya.”
“Dellie, he called our sister a slut,” Tadhg defended with a huff, climbing into the back seat of her Range Rover after she’d been called to come collect us from the office. “Yeah, Joe threw the first slap, but he goaded it out of him by bringing up Aoife and my nephew. And listen, before you say it, I’m not apologizing for kicking him in the nuts when he was on the ground either. The prick had it coming.” “Well,” she sighed heavily. “At least you made it to big lunch.”
He called her dellie!
Tadhg argued, reaching a hand through the seats to pat my shoulder. “You turned his nose sideways, Joe. It was a solid right hook.” “Not helping, kid.”
“Hey,” I snapped, twisting around to face him. “Stop acting like a little shit. I did the wrong thing back there.” “But you—” “I did the wrong thing, Tadhg,” I reinforced, giving him a stern look of warning. “I was wrong, okay? Don’t copy me. It’s not a good thing. Do better, Tadhg. Be better.” Than me.
I could focus on nothing but the image of my naked sister, bouncing on top of her equally naked boyfriend. “Trigger,” I roared, slapping a hand over my eyes two seconds too late. “Trigger, trigger, get-your-fucking-dick-out-of-my-baby-sister trigger!”
“I love her.” “I’m sure you do.” “No,” he said, tone serious. “I love her, lad. I’m in love with her.” “Good for you,” I muttered, unable to look at him anymore without seeing the image of… Jesus, I couldn’t even think it. “I know you love her,” I decided to add. “It’s the only reason I’m not losing it right now.”
The thought of him feeling about me the way I felt about my own father made it hard to breathe. It made me want to run and drown myself in whatever I could get my hands on.
“There’s fifteen grand,” I said calmly. “Four thousand of that is for Aoife’s tuition for Tommen.” I swallowed harshly and looked her parents in the eyes. “Let me do this for her.”
“It’s not about what we want, love. Not anymore. She’s over eighteen.” His gaze flicked to AJ and emotion flashed in his eyes. “And the boy’s right. They’re a little family.” “And if he lets her down again?” “I’ve a shovel in the backyard that we can use to bury him with.”
I was programmed to take care of the people I loved.
“I love you.” He reached a hand between us and stroked AJ’s soft curls. “I’ve spent a third of my life loving you, Aoife Molloy, and I don’t plan on stopping.” Leaning in close, he pressed his brow to mine and exhaled a shaky breath. “I’ve made a lot of terrible decisions,” he admitted quietly. “But the worst, by far, was hurting you and pushing you away.”
“Because in this version of forever, we get the happy ending, Molloy.”
Because if you put that weapon of mass temptation anywhere near me without a condom, I’ll cut the damn thing off.” “Sounds like foreplay, Molloy,” Joey purred, prowling after her when she raced back into the bedroom. “Sounds like a stark warning, Lynch,” I heard her warn,
Having AJ living next door was a huge treat for the rest of us, but it paled in comparison to how wonderful it was to see our big brother finally happy.
Joey Lynch and Aoife Molloy: both full of flaws and humanly imperfect and yet so undeniably perfect for each other.
“Put your balls anywhere near my girlfriend and I’ll kill ya,” Johnny snarled, launching a snowball of his own. “Do ya hear me, Gibs? I’ll take the bleeding face clean off ya!” “I’m going to put my balls on her face.” “Gibs.” “My big, wet balls all over her face—Jesus Christ, Johnny!” Appearing from behind the garage, Gibsie clutched his head. “There was a stone in that snowball.” “I know,” Johnny shot back unapologetically. “I put it there.”
“Apparently, I have a thing for hitting you in the head with my balls.” “Yeah, well.” I waggled my brows teasingly. “You could aim lower next time.” “Is that so?” Johnny purred, leaning in to brush a kiss to my lips. “How low?” “My lips.” “Which lips?” “You choose.”
