Taming 7 (Boys of Tommen, #5)

by Chloe Walsh

And last night was more than just super fun. It meant everything to me. She would never understand how many demons she chased out of my room with her body. Being with her in this bed, the same bed where I’d endured countless nights of torture throughout the course of my childhood, was so cathartic, it was almost surreal.

“If you love me, Claire.” He grabbed my face between his hands and forced me to look at him. “If you love me like you say you do, then you won’t tell anyone.” His chest was heaving, his eyes wild with a mixture of betrayal and panic. “If you do that to me, if you break my trust like that, I don’t think I’ll be able to get past it.”

Tossing my phone on my nightstand, I reached a hand under my mattress to retrieve the familiar folded-up piece of paper, and then, like the masochist I was, I unfolded the page and reread Caoimhe Young’s suicide note. The real one. The one she left just for me.

“Fuck,” he groaned, noticing the tear I had attempted to discreetly wipe off my cheek. “Come on, baby, don’t cry.” Closing the space between us, he cupped my cheek and pulled me flush against him. “I don’t want to fight tonight.” Shivering, I leaned into his touch. “Neither do I.”

I didn’t know how she managed to do it, but she healed the broken pieces inside of me. She patched me up in such a way that I was a functioning man again. For her. Only for her.

You told me and I didn’t listen. You were a young child who trusted his favorite babysitter enough to disclose the horrendous abuse you had been enduring at the hands of your stepbrother, and that babysitter chose to let her teenage hormones blind her.

But I saw tonight. When I walked into your bedroom to check on you and found him pinning you to your mattress raping you, I think I died inside. Your eyes. You looked so broken. So defeated. You weren’t making a sound. Your tears were as silent as my voice, and I am so sorry for that.

For my part in your pain, for my silence, I can never say sorry enough. I can only hope that my absence gives you some comfort, because while I know I wasn’t your abuser, my lack of willingness to believe your truth hurt you in ways he never could.

When the band started to play their own rendition of Mazzy Starr’s “Fade into You,” Gerard took my hand and led me onto the middle of the floor. Pulling me close, he kept one big hand flattened against the curve of my spine, while using the other to hold my hand to his chest. Our bodies moved in perfect synchrony, like we’d been born to dance this dance together.

Because his past was his prison, and our love was his getaway car. I know, I mentally told him, I know, and I believe you, and I will fight to the death to get justice for you.

I’m going to love you through all of this, I mentally told him, even when I do something that’s going to make you hate me.

“Gerard, you know I love you so much.” Her eyes were watery again and her tone of voice sent a spiral of panic through me. “I love you, too, babe.” “No, I mean I really, really love you,” she pushed, eyes locked on mine, tone as serious as her expression. “You’re my first love.” Her breath caught in her throat but she steadied herself before squeezing out, “You’re my only love.” “And you’re mine.” Hooking an arm around her waist, I pulled her back down on my lap. “I know you keep saying there’s nothing wrong, Claire, but I’m not stupid, okay? At least, not when it comes to you.”

“No, I don’t. You’re the one who’s wrong. You’re wrong, Claire. You’re so fucking wrong!” “Caoimhe wasn’t the one who was raped!” Claire screamed at the top of her lungs, and I swear to god my heart stopped dead in my chest. “It wasn’t her, Lizzie! Mark didn’t rape your sister!” And then, she blew my world when she pointed a finger at me and screamed, “He raped my boyfriend!”

“Fuck,” at the top of his lungs. “You fucking push, Claire. You push and you push!” He threw his hands up helplessly. “And I don’t have anything left to give.” “I have enough to give,” I promised, reclaiming the space he put between our bodies. “I have enough for both of us.” “You hurt me,” he strangled out, chest heaving. “You broke me, Claire.”

My words were of no comfort to my boyfriend in this moment, because instead of taking the hand I had outstretched to him, he shook his head and stepped further away from me. And then he said the words that ripped my soul to ribbons. “I don’t want to be your friend anymore.” “You don’t mean that.” “Yeah, I do.” Tears trickled down his cheeks as he cried. “I’m not your boyfriend, Claire Biggs, and I’m not your friend.”

“Hmm.” Johnny seemed to mull that over before asking, “Do you want to be my best friend?” He shrugged. “Looks like I’m not getting out of this town anytime soon, so I might as well put down some roots.” “Me?” “Yeah, you.” “You want me to be your best friend?” He nodded again, and I could tell from just one interaction with him that he was sharp. This lad was nobody’s fool. He had clearly taken everyone’s measure and, for some strange reason, had decided that I was the best of a bad bunch. “So, what’s it going to be, Gibs?” “Yeah.” I smiled. “I’m in.”

“They know, don’t they?” I whispered, slumped against him. “Everyone knows.” His arms tightened around me, and he pulled me closer. “You’re going to be okay.” “All the things he did to my body.” Feeling lifeless, I stared blankly ahead, feeling the tears trickling down my cheek. “I didn’t want any of it, Johnny.”

“I know you didn’t, Gibs…” He choked out a pained cry and continued to rock me back and forth. “I believe you.”

“I don’t want her to know.” “Claire?” I nodded, feeling empty. “She won’t be able to love me now.” “She already loves you,” he strangled out. “We all love ya.” Sniffling, he pulled me closer and pressed a kiss to the top of my head. “You’re the best friend I’ve ever had, and I love the fucking bones of you, ya mad eejit.” He choked out a pained laugh. “And if you think this is going to chase me off, then you’ve another th...

“That’s right.” He was crying hard now, and I think I was, too, but I felt so safe with him that I didn’t fight the noises and words and sounds that poured out of me. Instead, for the ...

I remembered all too well what Gerard had said to me last night, and how he had ended both our relationship and friendship, but it wasn’t over for me. It would never be over for me. Because we were a part of each other.

“Because I was so desperate to keep him out back then.” “Why?” “Because I didn’t want him to see the ugly in me and turn and run.” “You’ve never been ugly a day in your life,” I told her. “Not on the inside or on the out.”

“Please, Claire,” she tried again, voice wavering. “It’s Christmas.” “No, it’s not,” Hugh surprised me by saying. “Because Christmas means family.” He inclined his head to the empty chair at the table. The chair with the word Gibsie carved into it. “And we’re one family member down.”

“I’ll make a deal with you,” he said, tossing the controller down. “I’ll go across the road and ring in the new year with my girlfriend if you do the same with yours.”

“You can’t love me the same way.” “You’re right,” I agreed. “Because I love you more.” “Don’t lie.” His voice was heartbreakingly vulnerable in this moment. “Please don’t say it if you don’t mean it.” “I love you more,” I repeated, tone unwavering. “I want you more. I am disgustingly attracted to you, Gerard Gibson, and nothing about your past can change that.”

But one stark conclusion I had come to in the middle of the madness was this: I might not know who I was or where I fit in the world, but I knew without a shadow of a doubt that I didn’t want any of it without Claire Biggs. Or Cap.

“I have it on good authority that I have a cute snore.” “Whoever told you that was trying to get in your knickers.” “Well, he got in my knickers last night.” “And what a lovely pair they were.”

“You come first, Gerard.” “I do?” The uncertain vulnerability in his voice caused a surge of protectiveness to grow inside of my heart, and I pulled him closer, having made my choice. “You do.” “I won’t mess this up, Claire,” he vowed hoarsely, taking my hand in his. “But I’m not going to tell you. I’m going to show you.”

“Take a walk with me, Claire-Bear,” he said softly, thumb gently tracing over my knuckles. “Anywhere,” I replied, squeezing his hand. “I will go anywhere with you, Gerard Gibson.” A mixture of relief, sadness, and love shone in his eyes. “Right back at you, Claire Biggs.”

But the lines had been drawn. And I would forever stand with this boy. After all, taming 7 had been the adventure of my lifetime.