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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!”
Poor Joey 😭
“Hey, queen.” Her breath hitched and she turned to look at me. “Hey, stud.”
“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.”
Yes, Tony.
“He comes first.” “Before drugs?” Swallowing the lump in my throat, I nodded stiffly. “You both come first.”
“Ride or die, Joe.” My heart gunned ferociously in my chest, because I knew she meant it, and when I whispered the words, “Ride or die, Molloy,” I knew I meant it, too. More than anything.
The thought of doing something wrong or making a mistake with him makes the anxiety inside of me multiply until I can’t breathe.” “I feel the exact same way,” he replied, squeezing my hand. “You do?” He nodded. “With you, Molloy.”
“Be with me, Molloy.” “In what way?” “In every way.”
Joey was living for himself now. For his little family. And it gave me so much peace to know that he was finally at peace with himself.
Joey Lynch and Aoife Molloy: both full of flaws and humanly imperfect and yet so undeniably perfect for each other.
“Hi, Shannon.” Shivering, I beamed back at him. “Hi, Johnny.”
“Apparently, I have a thing for hitting you in the head with my balls.”
“How low?” “My lips.” “Which lips?” “You choose.”
Freaked OUT 💔
