Redeeming 6 (Boys of Tommen, #4)

by Chloe Walsh

“Don’t fucking speak to her, creep!” I roared, taking a protective stance in front of the chair my sister was slumped on when that bastard tried to speak to her. “I will kill you. Do ya hear me? I will slit your fucking throat if you so much as look at my sister again!” How dare he look at her? How dare he fucking say he didn’t mean to hurt her?

“I want you to know something,” I managed to say, fighting back the tears that were trying to fill my eyes. “I want you to know that I hate you right now more than I have ever hated him. I want you to know that you are no longer my mother—not that I ever had one of those to begin with.”

He knew this. He knew that the only way to keep me down was to kill me. Because I would never back down from him. As long as there was air in my lungs, I would continue to stand my ground. I would always fight back.

“You are nothing without me, bitch. The only way you’re leaving me is in a box. I’ll kill ya 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 ya go!”

She was my ride or die, and whether it was right or wrong, I knew she would come.

“Then die,” was all I replied. “Let him go, Marie,” my old man commanded. “He’ll be back with this tail between his legs. Cunt is useless. Won’t survive a day on his own.” “Shut up!” Throwing her hands up, my mother screamed at the top of her lungs. “Just shut up! This is all your fault. You’ve ruined my life. You’ve destroyed my children. You’re a fucking madman—” He struck her so fast that I didn’t have time to react.

I could hear the kids crying, I could hear Mam wailing, I knew Shannon needed help, but all I could think of in this moment was my girlfriend. All of the bad shit I’d done, all of the horrible fucking situations I’d put her in down through the years. I could feel the tears trickling down my cheeks as my body weakened. I love you, I mentally told her. I’m sorry. I gave it a fucking shot.

Shannon caught my eye. I could see her. At the other side of the kitchen. Slumped over and bleeding from her mouth. Panic clawed at my gut. She’s dying. She’s dying. Get up. Get the fuck up and help her.

“This ends now,” Tadhg growled, holding the knife a lot steadier than any boy of eleven should. “Get off my brother, and get out of this house for good, or I’ll slit your fucking throat.”

“I called an ambulance,” Tadhg choked out, greeting me at the front door. “I think she’s dead.” “He killed her,” Ollie was screaming from the hallway. “Daddy killed Shannon.” Feeling faint with panic, I stumbled through the front door with Sean in my arms, only to be greeted with a scene right out of The Texas Chainsaw Massacre. There was blood everywhere.

I knew what I was about to witness would be bad, but nothing could have prepared me for the sight of my boyfriend, bloodied to a pulp, slumped on the kitchen floor, cradling the lifeless body of his sister in his arms.

“Give me the fucking keys, baby,” he cut me off and roared, voice breaking, as he stumbled unsteadily to his feet with his sister in his arms. His face was beaten so badly he was barely recognizable in this moment. “Help me.”

Two words. Help me. I’d never heard them come from his mouth before and knew there was a chance I’d never hear them again, but I had to help him.

just…” Staggering, he leaned against the side of my car and clung to Shannon’s small body. “Molloy, I’m really scared.” My heart cracked clean open in my chest. “It’s okay, Joe, baby. You drive.” Scrambling into the back seat of my car, I held my arms out and gestured for him to pass her to me. “I’ve got Shan. I’ll keep her safe. I promise.”

“In cases like Joey’s, when patients present under these kinds of circumstances, there’s generally a long history of domestic violence, and to break it down for you, your partner’s test results reveal a pattern of child abuse that clearly stretches back to infancy.”

“I’m saying there’s evidence that leads me to believe that your partner has sustained a tremendous level of physical abuse over an extended period of time.” “That leads back to when he was a baby?” “It’s possible.” “Oh my god.” Molloy heaved out a sob and pulled me closer. “Oh my god!” “Quite frankly, it’s a miracle he’s sitting here.”

“How’s my baby?” “Still cooking.” “How’s my other baby?” “I’m okay, Joe,” I said. “We’re both fine.” “Good.” His eyelid fluttered shut. “I need you to be okay.” “I am okay, Joe.” “Both of you.” “Both of us are fine.” “I need it to stay that way,” he whispered, giving my hand a squeeze. “It’s important to me.”

“Don’t fucking speak to her like that, asshole.” Joey was quick to jump to my defense. “She is my family.” “Joey,” Marie sobbed. “I’m your mother.” “And she’s the mother of my kid. So, don’t even think about pulling that card,” he sneered. “Because she wins. Every damn time.”

“He’s my best friend,” I cried, twisting sideways in my seat to clutch her. “Forget the romantic side of things and all of the bullshit. He’s my closest friend on the entire planet and this is killing me.” Sniffling, I gripped her jumper and sagged against her. “You don’t understand how much it hurts. Watching him go through everything he goes through and feeling utterly useless.”

“You’re a lifeline to that boy. A life jacket, if you will.” “No, I’m not.” “Yes, you are,” she coaxed. “You’ve been keeping him afloat for years now.” “But it’s not enough, Mam,” I cried hoarsely. “I can’t keep watching him suffer. I’m so afraid for him. You don’t understand. It’s paralyzing. I am so fucking scared for him that I can barely breathe. One of these days, he’s going to go under, and I won’t be able to pull him back.”

“Tell me something,” Darren decided to interject. “If you knew my brother was in such a bad way, why didn’t you do something to protect him?” “Fuck you, Darren,” I spat out. “You don’t know a damn thing about either one of us.” “I know my brother isn’t well,” he countered evenly. “And so do you. So, why the hell would you trap him into fatherhood?” “I didn’t trap him.” I stiffened, feeling my hackles rise and my heart crack in one breath. “I hardly got pregnant on purpose, did I?”

“I’m saying that if you love my brother as much as you say you do, then you’ll do the right thing for him and make this go away.” “This being your niece or nephew?” “Let’s not be overly dramatic here and start labeling a fetus,”

“Don’t let her down.” Steadying my body from swaying, I looked him in the eyes and said, “Whatever you’re doing here, Kavanagh, don’t fuck my sister over.” He tapped on the keypad of his phone before handing it back to me. With eyes full of unrestrained emotion and his tone thick with gritty sincerity, he looked me dead in the eyes and vowed, “I won’t.”

“I’m so sorry.” His words were slurred and held the hint of sleepiness. “I want you to be okay. You and the baby.” “We are okay,” I tried to reassure him. “But we need you.” “Nobody needs me.” “That’s not true,” I argued, heart disintegrating in my chest. “Come back to me.”

“Don’t run, Molloy. I know I don’t deserve you, but please just…don’t run.” “Never.” “Please just…please keep loving me.” “Always, Joe,” she breathed against my lips. “Always.” “Because I feel like I’m all alone here, baby.”

“You said six hundred?” Gibsie cut me off by asking as he retrieved a wad of cash from his coat pocket and placed it on my lap. “It’s all there.” “Thank you.” Shoulders slumping in both guilt and relief, I nodded wearily. “Seriously, thank you so damn much, Gibsie. I know it was a lot to ask of you, and I promise you that I will pay you back every cent. It might take me a while, but I will get it all back to you with interest—” “Relax, I don’t care about the money,” he said, turning in his seat to face me. “It’s yours. No strings attached.”

“I just need him to be okay, Gibs. I just…I need that boy.” “Because you’ve got a bun in the oven?” “What?” I stilled, frowning. “How did you—” “Don’t worry, I can keep secrets, too,” he surprised me by saying. “Word of advice, though. I would start doubling up on those oversized hoodies if you don’t want people catching on, because, and I mean this in the kindest of ways, you’re blooming.” “Oh fuck.”

“I’m guessing Shannon doesn’t know?” he mused. “Which means Johnny doesn’t know, because if Johnny knew, I would know.” “No, and you can’t tell them yet because—” “Like I said, I can keep a secret,” he offered with a wink. “I’ve got your back, Mrs. Joey the hurler.”

“All good,” I managed to croak out, quickly breaking eye contact, feeling too much for the little girl I’d spent my life trying and failing to protect.

I hoped he meant it. Because as much as I hated myself for thinking it, I knew in my heart that I didn’t have anything left to give her. I was empty. I was done.

“Joe’s the only parent I remember having, so trust me when I tell you that your kid…” He paused to gesture to my stomach before adding, “Is going to have one hell of a father.” I absorbed his words like an addict would crack cocaine because in this moment, whether he meant it or not, Tadhg Lynch was giving me everything I needed. He believed in his brother in the same way I did. It didn’t matter that he wasn’t yet a boy of twelve; the fact of the matter was that he got it. He saw the same person I did and was prepared to fight for him. It gave me hope. It gave me comfort.

With Keane’s “Somewhere Only We Know” blasting from the car stereo and my good nerves in tatters, I pulled up outside 95 Elk’s Terrace and killed the engine.

If Joey didn’t get a handle on things, he was going to end up forcing my hand. The thought of what might happen when that day came caused my heart to shrivel up and die. Because I couldn’t do this without him, but I refused to repeat past mistakes. I refused to subject our baby to the same ordeal their father had been exposed to. I wouldn’t be Marie Lynch. My baby would come first.

“What about me?” she sobbed. “What about our baby? Do you care about us?” “You’re all I care about,” I snapped, pushing my hair back. “Fuck, you’re all I’ve ever cared about, Molloy. You know that.” “Then fight, Joey Lynch,” she begged, fisting her hand in the front of my hoodie. “Fight this.”

“I love you.” “I used to think that was true,” she said, tears flowing freely down her cheeks. “But I’m beginning to think that you don’t know what love means.” “Molloy—” “Look at my face, Joe,” she told me, and I did. Fuck, I did. “This is what hurting the person who loves you most in the world looks like.” She sniffled, tears dripping down her face, mirroring mine. “Remember this moment,” she added quietly. “Remember what I looked like the day you broke my heart.”

We had settled into a strange routine, where every morning at school, Molloy would hand me an earphone, giving me a glimpse into how she felt that morning. One song at a time. One day at a time.

That’s all she gave me, and it became the song I got up for in the morning. It became the best part of my day. The part before everything got too heavy and the urge to shoot up got the better of me. For weeks, it continued. Keane’s “Somewhere Only We Know.” Mazzy Star’s “Fade into You.” Matchbox Twenty’s “Unwell.” Sheryl Crow and Kid Rock’s “Picture.” Dido’s “White Flag.” Shakira’s “Underneath Your Clothes.” Avril Lavigne’s “I’m with You.” The Beatles’ “Don’t Let Me Down.” The Verve’s “The Drugs Don’t Work.” The Calling’s “Wherever You Will Go.”

It took me a while to recognize this morning’s song as LIVE’s “Lightning Crashes” and even longer to register the importance of that song for us. I turned my head to look straight ahead, feeling too much in the moment, too exposed and guilty. This hurt. It fucking burned and scorched me.

I knew my actions were hurting her in a way that could send her away permanently, but I couldn’t stop myself anymore. I couldn’t pull myself back out of the hole I’d fallen into. Worse, a huge part of me didn’t want to.

The father of my unborn child was a heroin addict. That was a painful admission. It hurt so bad I could hardly breathe.

“He’s coming for me,” he whispered against my lips, and I felt his tears mix with mine. “He’s coming for a-all of us. We’re going to die in that house, Molloy.”

“I love you,” I added, knees bopping restlessly as I chewed on my nails. “More than life.” “Yeah,” she replied, voice thick with emotion. “I love you, too.” How she could say that and mean it was something I’d never understand. How could she continue to love me? I wasn’t worthy.

“Just be with me,” he begged, dropping his head on my shoulder. “You don’t have do anything with me, I promise. I just…” He exhaled a ragged breath and said, “Just hold onto me, Molloy.”

Without a word, he reached for the hem of my hoodie and pulled it up to reveal my bump. “I love ya.” He pressed a lingering kiss to my belly. “Both of ye.” My breath hitched in my throat, and I couldn’t stop my hands from knotting in his hair. “We love you too, Joe.”

“Joe.” Pulling myself up on one elbow, I hooked an arm around his neck and drew him down to me. “It’s okay. Just be with me.” “I’m sorry,” he strangled out, pushing himself deep inside of me. “You’ll never know how much.”

Tracy Chapman’s “Fast Car” filled my ears, and fuck if it didn’t pour salt in my already gaping wounds. Like always, she reached under the desk and took my hand in hers, but when I entwined our fingers and squeezed back, she turned in surprise to look at me. “Hey, stud.” “Hey, queen.” “Nice shirt.” “Nice legs.” Her eyes widened in surprise.

“Just have to get through one hour at a time, right?” With tear-filled eyes, she nodded rapidly and gave me a pained smile. “Right.”

Clearly noting Joey’s withdrawal, Gibsie released him and took a few steps backwards, offering me a knowing wink as he went. If he only knew. If Joe only knew how much that boy had helped us.

“It’s okay.” He inspected every inch of her like she was of the greatest importance to him, and I watched as the big lad was overcome with emotion. “Shh, baby, shh.” Seeing her hurt affected him. No, it was more than that. It crushed him. “Just calm down.”

“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!”