Releasing 10 (Boys of Tommen, #6)

by Chloe Walsh

“You don’t have to stay with me, by the way,” Lizzie added, tucking the invitation back into her pocket. “I know your mother asked you to, but you can go back to your friends if you want.” She smiled again. “I’m not afraid to be on my own.” “No.” I shook my head, taking it all in. Taking all of her in. “I don’t want to do that.” “You don’t?” “No,” I confirmed. “I want to stay.” A slow blush crept across her cheeks. “With me?” Nodding slowl...

“You’re matching me.” “I know.” Grinning, she reached up and tipped my hat. “I thought you might like it.” “I do,” I replied, feeling my face grow hot again.

“You’re neat.” “Not as neat as you.” “Well, I practice a lot.” “I bet I practice more.” “And I read.” “I bet I read more.” “Oh yeah?” My lips twitched and I tried not to smile, but she was cute when she challenged me. “I doubt that.” “Oh yeah?” Her eyes narrowed once again in challenge. “Try me.” “Okay then.” Grinning, I began to reel off the names of every book I could remember, while this strange little girl accepted my challenge by responding with the names of the main characters in every book. And I mean every single book. From there, she stunned me with her ability to not only count but add and subtract in her head, without a copybook to work out the sums. She could spell every single word I threw at her, even the difficult ones I planned to catch her out with. Except the only thing that caught me out was surprise when she spelled every word without breaking a sweat.

attention glued to this girl and everything that came out of her mouth because I had never felt more impressed by another person in my life. It wasn’t just her outfit that matched mine, but her brain did, too.

“I used to go to a different school in the city,” she replied, voice small now. I followed her gaze to where she was clasping her hands together so tightly the skin was turning white. “But when I moved to Sacred Heart, they put me in juniors.” She chewed on her bottom lip. “I’m not slow,” she hurried to add, digging her fingernails into her hand. “I swear I’m not…” “I know you’re not, okay?” I replied, reaching down to peel her hands apart. “And who cares if you’re the oldest in your class?” She didn’t seem to realize that she was scratching herself, but I noticed. “You’re younger than most of my class and still way smarter.” Her head snapped up, and her blue eyes locked on mine. “I am?” “Yeah.” I nodded, wanting to take the worry away for her. I could see it in her eyes, and I didn’t like it. “You are.”

When the fear in her eyes was replaced with hope and her small hand tightened around mine, I felt a tingling sensation surge through me. While my brain seemed confused by the tingling, my heart assured me that it was an important feeling. That she was important.

“Well, that’s good.” I smiled. “Because you have a nice voice.” Her eyes lit up. “I do?”

She pulled her hand from mine then and clutched her stomach. “Uh-oh.” “What?” “It’s my belly,” she explained. “It keeps twisting around.” I eyed her warily. “Like in a pukey way?” “No, not pukey.” She paused for a moment before saying. “More like hiccups.” “In your throat?” “No, hiccups in my belly,” she corrected. “And butterflies in my throat.” I frowned. “So…you have flutter-cups?” “Oh my God, yes!” She nodded eagerly. “I have flutter-cups!”

“How are your flutter-cups?” “Still there, but it’s okay,” she laughed. “They don’t hurt.” “That’s good to know,” I replied. Because I think I caught them, too.

“What did you mean on the bus?” she asked then. “About me being right.” Aw double crap. “Uh…I’ll tell you later.” Pushing the car door open, I sprang out before I embarrassed myself further.

My breathing got faster and faster until I felt like screaming. Oh no. No, no, no, no… I clamped a hand over my mouth to stop myself. Don’t scream. Be a good girl. “Hey.” Hugh sat down on the window seat next to me. “Not having a good time?” I couldn’t answer him. I was breathing too fast. I was trying too hard to keep the scream in. “Hey, hey…” He leaned in close and looked at me with concern. “You okay?” I still couldn’t answer him. All I could do was keep my hand over my mouth and breathe through my nose, while I shook my head. “Can you breathe?” I shook my head again, eyes growing wild and fearful.

“You’re okay.” Twisting sideways on the seat to face me, he placed his hand on my shoulder and gently steered me until I was sitting with my back to the room, facing the window. “It’s probably just a panic attack.” He reached for the hand I wasn’t using to cover my mouth and gripped it tightly in his. “Just breathe.”

“There you go.” His voice was gentle and kind. “Nice and slow.” He squeezed my hand again. “You’re okay.” Was I? I didn’t think so. I wanted to scream. I wanted to tear every picture frame off the walls. I wanted to run away as fast as I could. I wanted to… I wanted to… I wanted to keep looking into his eyes.

Focusing all my attention on the boy sitting beside me, I let my eyes roam over his face. Golden skin. Yellow hair. Kind smile. Eyes like Daddy’s whiskey. Soap and strawberries. Hugh Biggs. “There you go,” he finally said with a smile, breaking me from my deep concentration. “Look at you.” I looked down and was surprised to see that he was holding both of my hands. My hand wasn’t on my mouth, and I wasn’t screaming.

“How did you do that?” “Do what?” “Make it stop.” “The panic attack?” I nodded, not sure if that’s what it was but needing to know either way. “How did you make it stop?” “I didn’t do anything, Lizzie,” he replied, still smiling, still holding my hands. “You did that yourself.”

He looked down at our joined hands that were resting on his lap. “Hmm.” “What?” “That’s the second time I’ve held your hand.” His cheeks reddened. “I’ve never held a girl’s hand before today.” “You haven’t?” He shook his head slowly, still not letting go of my hands. “Have you?” His cheeks flushed, and he quickly added, “Ever held hands with another boy?” “No.” I shook my head. “You’re my only boy.” I felt my skin grow hot. “Only you.”

“I like you, Hugh Biggs,” I blurted out, feeling the heat bursting out of my chest. “I think.”

“I don’t think I like you, Lizzie Young.” He looked out the window when he whispered, “I know I do.”

I wanted to stay right here with my new friends. Well, Claire wasn’t a brand-new friend, but her brother and his friends were. The dark-haired boy was called Patrick Feely, and he was super nice but kind of shy. The other boy’s name was Gerard Gibson, and he was so funny.

“Please, Mammy, please! Hugh gets to have Patrick and Gerard sleep over tonight. I want Lizzie.” Nobody had ever said that about me before. But Claire did. She said she wanted me.

Bolting out from behind the car, I rushed at the old man who was stringing Hugh up by the collar and threw myself at him. “Let him go,” I hissed, smashing him with the eggs I was still holding before biting down on his arm. “Jesus Christ,” the old man yelped, releasing my friend and cradling his hand to his chest. I moved to rush the man again, but a hand grabbed mine and pulled me away. Hugh’s hand, I realized, as we ran full speed after our friends in the opposite direction of his house. “Holy shit,” Hugh laughed, still holding my hand, as we ran for our lives from the crime scene. “I can’t believe you bit Old Murphy.”

“That was so badass,” Gibsie panted, climbing out of the bushes, with Patrick and Claire in tow. Jogging over to us, he slung his arm over my shoulder and laughed. “Lads, we have to keep this girl.”

I need them to be friends again😭😭

“You were right, Claire-Bear,” Gibsie replied, giving her a big smile. “A star is better than a square.” I scrunched my brows up. “A square?” “Yeah, we’re a square, see?” Gibsie pointed to the four of them before pointing to me. “You make a star.”

Oh I’m-I am not okay

“All in favor of Liz joining the gang, raise your hands.” Everyone raised their hands. I beamed with happiness. “Then it’s official,” Hugh said, turning to smile at me. “You’re one of us now.” “I am?” “That means we keep each other’s secrets and stick together, no matter what.” My heart leapt. “No matter what?” “Yeah, Liz.” Hugh smiled. “No matter what.”

“They’re so strange,” Lizzie whispered in my ear, causing the hair on my arms to shoot up. “Tell me about it,” I whispered back, daring myself to take a peek at her. Yep, my heart still slammed at the sight of her this morning.

“What’s this about bull guns, young man?” a familiar voice asked, causing Gibsie to leap out of his chair. “Dad!” Bolting across the kitchen, he threw himself at his father. “You’re here!” “Yeah, well, Pete mentioned something about taking his gang swimming,” Joe replied, wrapping Gibsie up in his arms. Gibsie may have had the same blond hair as his mam, but that’s where the resemblance stopped. He was every inch Joe Gibson’s son in both looks and personality.

Gibsie lost the man he loved the most☹️

Joe kissed Gibsie’s head and set him back down on his feet. “What do you say, son?” He ruffled his son’s curls. “How do you fancy getting up-to-speed on that doggy paddle of yours?” “What about the bakery?” “Closing shop for one day won’t hurt,” his father replied with a smile. “Besides, I’d rather hang out with my main man.” Nodding his head, Gibsie beamed for a solid ten seconds before bursting into tears. “I don’t know why I’m crying,” he tried to tell his father, through floods of tears. “I’m happy, Dad, I promise.” “It’s okay, buddy,” Joe soothed, tucking Gibsie’s face into his chest. “You’re allowed to cry. You’ve had a hard year.”

“That’s Gibsie’s dad,” I whispered in Lizzie’s ear. “His mam kicked him out a while back.” “Oh.” She looked at me with lonesome blue eyes. “That’s so sad.” “I know,” I whispered back. “Gibs misses him a lot.”

Lizzie’s breath hitched and I quickly snatched her hand up under the table. I couldn’t look at her, because I would be busted if I did, so I just smoothed my thumb over the back of her hand reassuringly.

knowing I now had five friends of my own helped keep the smile on my face. Hugh. Claire. Gibsie. Shannon. Patrick. And me.

I looked up from my storybook to see Mark in my doorway. “Hey, munchkin,” he said, closing and locking the door behind him. My stomach sank. “What are you doing up so late?” “Reading.” A wave of panic swept over me, and I felt my body stiffen when he walked toward me. “Why are you here?” “I came over to keep your sister company,” he explained, coming to sit on the side of my bed. “She fell asleep on the couch, so I thought I’d come and check on you.” He was always checking on me. It used to be okay, but I wasn’t so sure anymore. I didn’t think I wanted him to keep checking on me. I didn’t want him to fix me again. Not ever again.

“So your sister told me something today and I’m not happy about it.” “What?” “Caoimhe said you slept at a boy’s house last night.” “Hugh.” I felt myself smile. “He’s really nice.” “Hmm.” Mark didn’t look happy. “I don’t know how I feel about you cheating on me, munchkin.” “What do you mean?” I asked, confused. “I don’t want to share you.” A shiver racked through me. “Share me?” “You’re my special girl, remember?” He placed his big hand on my leg. “And I don’t want you being anyone else’s special girl.”

I fucking HATE him. I HATE HIM I HATE HIM I HATE HIM

I shook my head, feeling sad. “But it hurts.” “Only for a little while,” he coaxed, wrapping his big hand around my throat. “You can handle it.” He pushed me onto my back and dragged my nightie up to my waist. “Like the other times.” Shivering, I clenched my eyes shut and thought happy thoughts. I thought of Hugh.

I need him to rot in hell

“Careful,” I called out, unable to mask my concern. I should have known better than to agree to go climbing when it had been raining all day yesterday. Yeah, it was dry today, but the branches of the trees were still slippery. Problem was, I seemed to lose all common sense when Lizzie Young was nearby.

I was supposed to be at rugby training, same as every Saturday, but Liz had had a sleepover with Claire last night, and when she asked me if I wanted to hang out this morning, I blew training off without a second thought.

“I challenge you to a duel, brave knight.” “A brave knight would never duel with a lady.” I mimicked the British tone she had used, and then, with an exaggerated bow, I tipped my imaginary hat to her. “Milady.”

“Back up before you kill yourself.” “Oh yeah?” Tossing her stick away, she winked and jumped off the limb. “Lizzie!” I roared, heart stopping dead in my chest as I gaped down in horror at the blond pancaked on the lawn several feet beneath me. “Are you okay?” The sound of her laughter was music to my ears, and when she rolled onto her back and held her thumbs up, I felt my entire body sag in relief.

“You’re a good boy, Hugh, and I know you’re so emotionally mature that I don’t need to ask, but please keep an eye out for her.” Mam stroked my cheek and smiled sadly. “She’s a very fragile little girl who needs looking after.” “I’ll do it,” I vowed, casting a glance out the patio window to the blond girl twirling around in circles in her denim dungarees. “I’ll look after her, Mam, I promise.”

The three of them started chatting, and I smiled, feeling happy for my mother. It was nice to see her smiling again. Sadhbh and Sinead didn’t stare at her headscarf or give her sad looks. They treated my mother like she was a part of their gang. Just like how their kids treated me.

“I have a crush on you.” At least, that’s what Caoimhe said it was. I didn’t know what was happening until I explained all about the flutter-cups. She laughed and told me that I had my first crush. His cheeks turned bright pink. “You’re not supposed to say that, Liz.” “But I do,” I told him.

I grinned at him. “Do you have a crush on me, too?” “Jesus.” Blushing, he dipped under the water, reappearing a few seconds later and a lot farther away. “Wait!” I called after him. “You didn’t answer me.” “Yes,” he called over his shoulder as he swam back to our friends. “My answer is yes!”

I sprang to my feet and clutched my chest, unable to stop the grin on my face from spreading. Because he had a crush on me, too. Hugh Biggs liked me back.

I didn’t feel the same fear others felt when their heads went underwater or when water went up their nose. The more pain I felt, the calmer my mind grew.

“You are a crazy girl,” Hugh laughed, hooking an arm around me when he swam back to me. “What would you have done if I didn’t swim back for you?” “I knew you would,” I laughed, wrapping my arms around his neck as he swam us over to the shallow part. “Oh yeah?” he teased, releasing me when I could stand. “How?” “Because I trust you,” I told him. “You make me feel safe.” That seemed to confuse him because his brows furrowed together. “You’ll always be safe with me.” “I know.” I splashed him with my hand. “No matter what, right?” “Yeah, Liz,” Hugh chuckled, splashing me back. “No matter what.”

Caoimhe rolled her eyes and laughed. “My sister was right; you are sweet.” My cheeks reddened and I practically choked down my mouthful of cookie to answer her. “Liz said I was sweet?” “Uh-huh.” Grinning, she leaned her hip against the island and dried her hands with the tea towel. “Among other things.” “Like what?” I blurted out, trying and failing to play it cool. “I mean, uh, she said stuff about me?” “Aw, look at you blushing over my sister,” Caoimhe crooned. “This is too cute.” “Hugh’s in love,” Claire chimed in then. “He wants to smooch your sister.” “Claire!” I snapped, feeling my face grow hotter. “Stop it. You know I don’t.” “Liar, liar, pants on fire,” Claire teased, while she danced over to our babysitter. “He’s always asking me questions about her.” “Oh really?” Caoimhe’s eyes danced with mischief. “What kind of questions, Claire?” “Like what’s her favorite color, and does she like dinosaurs, and who’s her favorite author, and does she talk about him at school,” my sister replied with a snicker. “He even draws her pictures, and writes little notes, and makes me bring them to school for her.”

“I think Hughie is Lizzie’s boyfriend,” Claire offered. “Like Gerard is my boyfriend.” “No, I’m not,” I argued, feeling all sweaty and awkward, as I hovered in the archway. “And Gibsie isn’t yours, either.” I shook my head, feeling flustered. “He’s just a boy who’s your friend. Same as me and Liz.” “Nuh-uh, Hughie,” my sister argued back, gesturing for me to come and sit next to her. “Gerard says he’s going to marry me when I’m a big girl.” “Aw.” Caoimhe laughed. “My little Gibs told you he would marry you?”

“Sometimes grown-ups do bad things,” she agreed. “But just because the grown-ups do bad things, doesn’t mean the kids are to blame.”

This quote is so significant to Shannon, Joey, Gibsie & Lizzie’s stories

I arched a disbelieving brow and snorted. “Got something to say, Hugo Boss-Man?” “Yeah, Gibsie’s a child,” I told her. “Mark’s a bully.” “A bully to who?” “Gibsie.”

When I reached the lounge and locked eyes on the familiar, dark-haired teenage boy sitting on my couch, with my sister on his lap, a wave of unease washed over me. I couldn’t explain why I felt so uncomfortable or why the hairs on the back of my neck shot up whenever I laid eyes on him. But it always happened. I felt like Peter Parker with Spidey senses, and mine told me that Mark Allen was not good. Not good at all.

“Claire!” I barked, stalking into the lounge. “No.” Not stopping until I was right in front of them, I grabbed my sister’s hand and yanked her off his lap. “You don’t sit on strangers’ laps.” “It’s okay, though, because he’s going to be Gerard’s brother soon,” my sister explained, looking up at me with big, brown eyes. “So he’s not a stranger.” “I don’t care.” Keeping ahold of her hand, I walked my sister to the other end of the couch and lifted her onto it before turning back around. “Don’t touch my sister again,” I warned, standing in front of her. “Not ever again.”