Releasing 10 (Boys of Tommen, #6)

by Chloe Walsh

“Don’t sit on his lap,” I whispered back. “How come?” I don’t know. “Just don’t, okay?” “Okay.” “I mean it.” I held my pinky finger up to her. “Promise me.” “I promise,” she replied hooking her finger around mine before proceeding to curl up in a ball on my lap. Normally, I would kill my sister for hugging me, but not tonight. Instead, I wrapped my arm around her shoulders and kept her close.

☹️This boy cared had the biggest protective heart

“Are you okay?” I asked Gibsie, even though I already knew the answer. It was New Year’s Eve, and we were sitting at my kitchen table, while his mother and Keith sipped champagne with my parents. “Yeah, I’ll be okay,” Gibsie replied, sounding sad. “Thanks for inviting me to your party, Liz.”

When the doorbell sounded, Gibs and I both looked at each other before making a run for the front door. “He’s here,” I squealed at the same time Gibs cheered, “She’s here!”

They both had a Biggs sibling that they loved😭💔

Butting Gibsie out of the way with my hip, I grabbed the door handle a second before him and grinned in victory. Call it silly, but I wanted to be the one to open the door when Hugh came to my house. I wanted to be the first person to see his face. In fact, I wanted to see his face all the time. Every day. When I yanked the door open and was greeted by the Biggs family, I had to force myself to not throw myself at Hugh. I wanted to. So bad.

I thought about him all the time. My face felt hot when he smiled at me, and I wanted to spend all my time being near him. Even when I was supposed to be playing with Claire, I always searched for him and secretly hoped that he would come into the room and join us. I loved the things he talked about. He was so smart and was always teaching me things. About stars and constella...

“Does your mam put bubbles in?” “Yep.” “I like bubbles.” “Same.” “I don’t like baths anymore.” “Why not?” “They’re stingy.” He frowned. “Stingy?” I nodded. “Yep.” Confusion filled his eyes. “I don’t get stung.” I shrugged. “Maybe it’s just my bath.”

“I think I like being around you more than your sister,” I admitted. “Does that make me a bad friend?” “Nah,” Hugh replied, turning his head to look at me again. “I get it.” “You do?” “Yep.” Nodding, he closed the book and rested his chin on his hand. “You like the peace and quiet, and my sister is the opposite of quiet.” My eyes widened in surprise. “I do like the quiet.”

He was pretty. So pretty. “Hey, Hugh?” “Hm?” “I like you.” “I like you, too, Liz,” he replied,

“I want to be with you all the time.” “Yeah.” His cheeks reddened when he nodded. “I want that, too.”

“Hey, Hugh?” “Yeah, Liz?” “You know the way Gibsie is going to ask Claire to marry him when they’re grown-up?” I shifted closer until our knees were touching. “Do you think you might ask me to marry you?” Hugh stared at me for a long time before saying, “If I asked you, would you say yes?” “Yes.” I nodded eagerly. “I would definitely say yes.” He smiled. “That’s good to know.”

“Hey, Hugh?” “Yeah, Liz.” I pointed to the watch on his wrist. “Happy New Year.” Hugh stared down at the face of his watch for a long moment before turning his attention back to me. And then, with red cheeks, he l...

Claire reached over and hooked her skinny, little arm around Gibsie’s shoulder. It didn’t reach, of course—she was too little—but the gesture was there, and for some weird reason, her comfort was better received than mine. Because Gibs dropped his head on her shoulder, letting her be the one to comfort him.

I knew he was crying, I could see his shoulders jerking, but he never made a sound. It was the kind of quiet crying I saw in silent movies my grandparents used to watch. Somehow, that made it worse than if he had been screaming like a bull. Acting like she was Gibsie’s personal bodyguard to the ordeal, Claire used her free hand to cover his eyes. I wasn’t sure what she was trying to do in the moment, shield him from the kissing or shield the world from him.

I glanced at Feely, who was sitting on the other side of Claire, and he shrugged back at me, looking as uncertain as I felt. None of us knew what to do. That’s when a small hand entwined ...

The moment I turned my head to the left and my eyes locked on Lizzie’s pale-blue ones, the familiar surge of electricity I had grown used to feeling when she was nearby surged through me. It even happened when I was alone and thought about her. I used to think it would fade once I got used to seeing her, but having seen her almost every day for the past six months, it was safe to assume that it wasn’t going to. I was beginning to understand...

Before Liz, I never really believed that a girl could be your best friend, but she was living proof of it. I preferred her company above all oth...

when she had to leave, I didn’t feel like myself until she came back to me.

I didn’t hear the bathroom door open and close, but I did hear Hugh’s voice when he shouted, “Liz? Are you okay?” Forcing myself to sit up, I lifted my head to look at him. “Hi.” “Hi.” Crouching down next to the tub, Hugh rested his elbows on the rim and stared at me. “What are you doing in the bath?” “Resting,” I whispered, too numb to feel embarrassed. “I’m tired.” “Are you sick?” Reaching out, he pressed his palm to my forehead and frowned. “You’re not warm.” “Don’t,” I begged when he moved his hand. Shivering, I snatched it back up and held it to my cheek. “I can feel you.” “Yeah, well, I would hope so,” he offered, giving me a rueful smile. “I am touching your face.” “No, I can feel you,” I squeezed out, trying to make him understand. “I can feel me when I feel you.”

“Listen, I’m doing homework in my room, but you can come with me and sleep in my bed if you want?” he offered after a long silence. “Claire and Shannon are out back in the treehouse, so they won’t mind.” “You can sleep in my bed…” I knew what that meant. But it was okay. Because I loved Hugh Biggs. My heart was sure I did. And Hugh would never hurt me like he did.

Keeping a firm hold of his hand, I soaked in the warmth as he led me into his room. It would be okay. Because he was kind. He wouldn’t make me cry. He wouldn’t make me bleed.

“You can rest here,” Hugh said in a gentle voice, stopping in front of a big double bed. “It’s comfier than the tub.” Climbing onto the mattress, I rolled onto my back and settled into the familiar position, arms at my sides and legs open, waiting for this boy to do what Mark told me all boys did. Except he didn’t. Instead of taking off my clothes, Hugh covered me with a blanket and stepped away. Confused, I turned my head to watch him sit cross-legged in front of a stack of schoolbooks on his bedroom floor. Pulling up on my elbows, I peered down at him, not understanding any of this. Was I bad? Did I do something wrong?

Liz☹️💔

My heart slammed hard against my rib cage then, and with it came a flood of emotion. Feelings: they bombarded my heart, rushing through me like a river. I was feeling. I could feel again. I didn’t have to scream to make the lady go away, either. She disappeared when he found me in the tub. She was afraid of Hugh. Because he was good. Because he was brave. A brave knight.

A wave of relief washed over me, and I gripped the blanket draped over me, allowing my heavy eyelids to close. Mark didn’t fix me this time. Hugh did. And he didn’t have to hurt me to do it…

💔💔

It should have been the best day of our lives, but instead, it became our worst day. One moment, Gibs and I were arguing with our sisters over a stupid toy laser beam, and the next, one of them had fallen overboard. Everything happened so fast, and yet time seemed to slow down. One minute, Bethany was there and the next she wasn’t.

Time seemed to stand still for a long beat before Sadhbh’s high-pitched scream shook the earth’s core. It was the worst, scariest noise I’d ever heard in my life. “Bethany!” Sadhbh screamed. “Joe, I can’t swim. Please, I can’t swim, Joe!” “I’ll get our baby.” We were shoved out of the way then, and I watched as Joe Gibson barreled past us and jumped overboard, while screaming his daughter’s name. “Bethany!”

Panic stricken, I grabbed my sister and pulled her back from the edge, where she had been leaning over and crying hysterically.

I kept a firm grip on the small, curly-haired girl and thanked Jesus he had spared my sister. Because this was bad. I knew it was.

“Beth, hold on!” My attention snapped to Gibsie’s frantic screams, and I locked eyes on him climbing over the side of the boat. “Dad, I’m coming!” “Gibs, no!” I roared, pushing past my sister, but it was too late. He was already disappearing beneath the waves. “Hold on, Gibs!” I called out, before sucking in a deep breath and launching myself over the side. But I didn’t hit the water because someone grabbed me by the back of my shirt. “No!” My father’s voice boomed in my ears, as he roughly dragged me backward and tossed me in a heap on the deck. “Stay!” he ordered before jumping overboard. “Dad!” I screamed, scrambling onto my hands and knees to get to him. “Dad!”

The fact that Hugh didn’t even waste a second to try and save him☹️

“No, Mam,” I cried, pushing and lashing to break free. “Gibs can’t swim properly.” “He can’t swim yet!” Claire screamed, repeating my words, as she barreled toward the side of the boat where our friend had disappeared. “You gots to do something!” She argued, pushing and slamming her small fists against Keith’s leg. “You gots to save them!” “I can’t swim,” Keith cried, holding on to Sadhbh, who seemed to be in a state of delirium. “I’m so sorry. I can’t swim.”

Meanwhile, Mark stood to the side, with his arms folded across his chest. Like a statue. Like a devil. Doing nothing.

Managing to free myself from Mam’s grip, I bolted over to the side of the boat and screamed when Joe broke the surface with both of...

Gibsie’s limp body was sprawled over his shoulder, while he clutched his toddler daughter to his chest. Neither one of them were moving. Gibsie’s eyes were closed, and Bethany’s hair was draped over her face in wet, ...

“I’m coming, Gibs,” Dad called out, breathing hard, as he frantically swam out toward his best friend. “I’ve got ya, buddy.” “Pete,” Joe called back, struggling to keep all three of them afloat from the relentless assault of wave after wave.

No one talks about how Pete lost his childhood best friend and has holed himself in his attic for over ten years and that breaks my heart

“I’ll find him, Gibs,” Dad vowed, clearly the fresher of the two of them, as Joe was fading fast. “I promise I’ll find your son.” Dad glanced over to where my sister was screaming and pointing at and nodded. “I’ll bring him back.” “Don’t let him die, Pete.” “I won’t,” Dad promised. “Take Beth back in. I’ll get the boy.”

Another wave crashed over them then, and just like that, Bethany sank under the water like her brother had, followed by her father. Swallowed up by the waves like a lifeless, floating doll. The image of her pink dress was the last that I saw of her. She wouldn’t come back up that day. Neither would Joe.

This is so heartbreaking

“He gots him!” Claire screamed then, rekindling the dying flame of hope inside of me. “Daddy gots Gerard!” I couldn’t look because I knew it would be bad. I was too fucking scared to see him not alive. My oldest friend in the world.

“Hugh, I need you to listen to me.” Turning me in her arms, my mother held my shoulders as she spoke. “I need you to be brave, okay?” Blinking the tears away, I nodded. “I will.” “I need you to do everything I tell you. No matter what, son.” Sniffling, I offered her another nod. “I will.” “I need to help your father now, and I need you to look after your sister, okay?” I choked out a sob and nodded in understanding.

He truly had to grow up so fast and always did it with a brave face and I will forever love him for it

But if the ocean wanted Gerard Gibson, then it was going to have to take my arms with him because I would never let go of him.

A few moments later, when the sound of the motor running filled the air, and the vibration rattled through my body, a pair of small arms came around me, and I didn’t hesitate to fold her into my body, holding on for dear life to my baby sister.

I felt more gratitude for Claire in this moment than I ever had in the five years since she’d arrived into my world. Because she was here, on this boat, with her heart beating. “I love you, Claire,” I heard myself cry, holding her so tight, I was sure I was hurting her skinny, little body, but I didn’t care. She was alive and I had to feel that in this moment. After holding Gibsie’s lifeless body, I had to touch something alive. “I love you. I love you. I love you!” “I loves you, too,” Claire sobbed, clinging to me just as tightly, smothering my face with her wild curls. “Don’t ever go away, Hughie.” “I won’t,” I whispered, burying her face in my neck, needing to protect her from what was unfolding around us.

Scrambling out of my lap, Claire crawled on her hands and knees to where our friend was lying on his side, in the recovery position, facing us. His eyes were blank, but they were open and focused entirely on my sister’s face. “We’ve got you, Gerard,” she continued to tell him, hunched down close to his face, with her small hand touching his hollow cheek. “You came back to me.”

He was breathing. In that moment, I vowed to never sit back and do nothing. I would never be a statue like Mark or incapable like Sadhbh and Keith. For the rest of my life, I would help. I would save people. I would bring them back to life. Like my father brought Gibs back from his watery grave. Like my mother brought his heart back to life.

He went back to school right after, which I thought was so brave. Claire said he could have taken the rest of the school year off, but he didn’t do that. Instead, he got back up and faced the day. It made me proud to be his friend. It made me think I could be brave like him someday, too.

Gibsie’s daddy was Hugh’s daddy’s best friend since primary school, and Pete didn’t want to get out of bed anymore. Not with his bestest friend in the world up in heaven.

Exhaling heavily, I reached up and pressed my hand to his cheek, feeling the wetness from where his tears had dripped. Sniffling, he reached up and covered my hand with his, never saying a word. That was the thing about me and Hugh: sometimes we never needed to speak at all. We just knew what the other was feeling. Right now, he was sad. He was so sad because of Joe and Bethany. But he was even sadder that his dad wasn’t coming out of his bedroom.

Removing the hand he was resting on top of mine, he placed it on my cheek instead. “I love you.” My heart thumped like a drum in my chest because this was the first time he said those words out loud. “You do?” Nodding slowly, he stroked my cheek with his thumb and exhaled a shaky breath. “I just thought you should know.” A shiver racked through him. “In case anything happens and I don’t get to tell you.” “What’s going to happen?” “Maybe nothing.” He exhaled a shaky breath and whispered, “But you never know what tomorrow could bring.” “I know what tomorrow will bring, Hugh,” I replied. “You and me. Same as yesterday and same as today. Being best friends forever.” Smiling, I leaned in close and brushed his nose with mine. “No matter what.” “Yeah, Liz.” His lips grew into a small smile. “No matter what.”

“You know I don’t eat that,” Feely said, dragging me from my thoughts. I peered at the plate in front of him and my stomach growled in appreciation when my eyes took in the sight of a juicy steak. “I’m a vegetarian, Dad.” “You’re a bollocks is what you are,” his father shot back before dumping another massive steak onto my plate. “Now, Hughie, lad, tuck into a feed of prime Irish beef for yourself.” I wanted to. Badly. But I didn’t want to be used as a pawn in Paddy Feely’s attack on his son. Especially on his birthday. “Actually, I’m a vegetarian, too,” I lied, mentally devastated to abandon the glorious piece of meat on my plate. Feely caught my eye, and he gave me a grateful smile.

“I blame his sisters for putting notions in his head,” he continued, not one bit dissuaded by my presence. “They babied the lad and made him soft. Putting musical instruments in his hands instead of a shovel and pike!” “He’s brilliant,” I heard myself point out, feeling pissed off with the old man.

“Your son is the best singer at school.” That was no word of a lie. Feely could hit the high notes in “Queen of the May” better than any of us in the school choir, which meant he got roped into singing for Holy Communion every year. And his rendition of “Oíche Chiúin” was tremendous. My friend could turn his hand to any manner of instruments, be it the bodhran or guitar, the keyboard or the fiddle. He was so superior to the rest of us that I often wondered why the teachers forced the rest of us eejits to crow behind him when we clearly brought him down.

I trailed through the farm with my friend, feeling so fucking sad for him but knowing better than to verbalize my thoughts. “Are you all right, lad?” I finally asked him once enough time had passed. “I’m grand,” he replied, brushing it under the carpet like only Feely could, while he herded the milked cows out of the parlor and back down the path to the field. “He just doesn’t get me.” “Well, I think you’re brilliant,” I offered. “I think you should keep playing.”