Redeeming 6 (Boys of Tommen, #4)

by Chloe Walsh

Don’t Get Mad, Get Even

Amen

While the rest of his friends had long since abandoned their girlfriends and dates, Gibsie hadn’t taken more than three steps away from Claire all night.

Our eyes met, green on green, and he winked at me from across the room. And just like that, I was ruined

“You can’t tell me what to do, Joe,” I growled, feeling a combination of drunk and dizzy. “You don’t own me.” “Well, that’s bad fucking luck on my account, because you sure as shit own me!” Drunk or not, his words hit me like a wrecking ball to the chest. Feeling the air whoosh from my lungs, I glared up at him, feeling a torrent of emotions crashing through me. “Why would you say that to me?” “Because it’s the truth.” “Since when?” “Since I was twelve.”

Because every part of me loved every part of her. The good, the bad, and the ugly. I fucking reveled in all of it.

“It’s you,” he repeated gruffly, fingers tightening on my waist. “I pick you. Every single time.”

“I’ll love you the right way this time,” he whispered, and his breath fanned my cheek. “If you’ll show me how.”

“I’m not your mother or your sister. I’m not another girl who needs something from you. I’m the girl who wholeheartedly wants you. I’m the girl who wholeheartedly loves you. The hurler. The mechanic. The boy. The protector. The asshole. The lover. The addict.”

Unfortunately, this is something commonly seen in infants under the age of eighteen months who have been exposed to physical abuse.

And im broken

“Oh, I’m your worst nightmare, bitch,” I snarled, knocking her off Joey’s back and onto the flat of her own. “You like terrorizing little girls? Try someone your own size.” Losing my ever-loving shit right there and then, I straddled her chest. “Think you can call my boyfriend a scumbag? Think you can bully his sister, huh? Think you’re safe because you’re a girl and he can’t hit you back?” Narrowly avoiding a nail to the eye, I reared my fist back and socked her in the nose. “Well, I can!”

HELL YEAAAHHH

“I only wanted to protect you.” “That’s my job, remember?” I joked through my tears. “I’m the one saving 6.”

“You should have told me to fuck off,” he whispered, leaning in close. “All those years back when we were in first year.” His lips brushed mine once, twice. “I’ve loved you since then.” Another kiss. “From the first time I laid eyes on you, sitting on the wall with your blond hair blowing around your face.” His tongue snaked out, teasing mine. “I just didn’t know it then.”

“I love you, queen. Always have and always will.” He continued to break me down by whispering, “There was only ever you for me. Stone-cold sober or off my trolly, my head knows that.” Taking my hand in his, he pressed it to his chest before adding, “My heart knows that, too.”

“It’s mine to live, and I plan on living it side by side with her. Because news flash, asshole, that girl is my life. Her and our baby. And if she wants a ring, she’ll get it. And a house, she’ll get that, too. And if the time comes where she wants more kids, then I’ll give them to her. Whatever she wants. Because we’re mirrors. Her and me. We’re aligned.

“Jesus,” I breathed, cradling him in my arms as my emotions got the better of me. “You’re here.” And then he opened his eyes and looked at me. And I was done. My heart no longer beat for me. For the rest of my days, it would beat entirely for the child in my arms. Fuck.