Releasing 10 (Boys of Tommen, #6)

by Chloe Walsh

“What about my heart?” He laughed softly. “Your heart works just fine.” “But what if it breaks?” “That won’t happen.” “How come?” He turned another page before saying, “Because I won’t break it.” “But what if someone else breaks it?” “Not going to happen.” “How come?” “Because I’ve got it locked away safe and sound.”

“What about your heart?” “What about it?” “What if it gets broken?” I teased. “You can’t fix your own heart, silly.” “Then you better keep it safe.” “I will,” I vowed, holding out my pinky finger. “No matter what.”

Shaking off the sad feeling, I focused my attention on Hugh. My happy thought. My happy feeling.

“Okay, well, there are parts of your body that are just for you,” Hugh started to explain. “For boys, their private part is their penis. For girls, their private part is their vagina. And nobody is allowed to touch your vagina. Not your friends. Or your family members. And especially not grown-ups.” “What if you’re sick?” I asked, feeling like my world was crashing down around me. Hugh frowned. “Sick?” “What if you’re sick and need the medicine to get better?” I pushed, digging my nails into my hands. “What if you’re bad and need to be fixed?” “Liz, if you get sick, then you go to the doctor, and they can give you medicine for that,” Hugh explained with a frown. “Do you understand?”

I couldn’t explain the devastation that washed over me in this moment. “It’s okay, Liz, it’s okay.” He hurried to soothe me, wrapping his arms around me. “You’re only a kid. You didn’t know.” “I just wanted to f-fix you. M-make you f-feel better,” I cried into my hands. “I d-didn’t know it was b-bad, Hugh. I’m so s-sorry.” “I know, and it’s okay,” he coaxed, wrapping me up in his arms. “I’m not mad at you.” “I sh-should g-go h-home.” “No, you shouldn’t,” he said, tightening his hold on me. “You should stay right here with me because I’m your best friend and I love you and there’s nobody else I want to play with.” That made me cry harder. Because I didn’t want to be here anymore. Because I did a bad thing to Hugh. I couldn’t explain the horror I felt. I was bad.

Today was my ninth birthday and, as usual, my house was packed with friends. The lads were happily plowing their way through my house like a wrecking ball with a game of tip the can, but I didn’t join in. I couldn’t enjoy my party until she arrived.

When Catherine called this morning to let Mam know that Liz was feeling better and would be coming to my party, it was the best birthday present ever. I didn’t care about the unopened parcels waiting inside for me. All I wanted was Liz.

The moment she stepped out of the car and my eyes landed on her, I felt the strange sensation in my chest return. It felt like my heart had been caught up in a fishing hook and I was being reeled back to her.

“Liz!” Hurrying down the porch steps, I quickly closed the space between us, not stopping until I had her wrapped up in my arms. “I’ve missed you so much.” Two months. It had taken two long months to see my friend again, and now that I had my arms around her, I was afraid to let go. “Hugh!” Liz didn’t hesitate to wrap her arms around my waist, trembling all over, as she buried her face in my neck. “I promise I’ve missed you more.”

Something about the way they both flicked their eyes to Lizzie as they spoke caused me to pull her to my side and wrap an arm around her protectively. He was not taking her away again. Over my dead body.

she reached up and covered my cheek with her small hand. “You’re good on the inside.” “So are you, Liz.” “No, Hugh.” She shook her head sadly. “I’m not.” Frowning, I draped an arm around her and pulled her close. “Why would you say that, Liz?” Shivering, she rested her forehead against mine and whispered, “Because it’s the truth.” “Nope.” Shifting closer, I rested my hand on her cheek. “It’s not even close to being the truth.”

“I could never hate you,” I replied, feeling my heart crack. “I love you, remember?” She clenched her eyes shut. “Everyone thinks I’m crazy.” “I don’t,” I countered, rubbing my nose against hers. “I know you’re not crazy.”

“What about the scary lady?” she whispered, sounding uncertain. “And the monster?” Her eyes filled with tears. “Nobody else can see them, but I swear I see them, Hugh.” A pained sob escaped her lips. “They hurt me.” “Are they here now?” “No.” She shook her head. “They never hurt me when you’re around.” Sniffling, she moved so close that her body was pressed tightly to mine. “They’re scared of the brave knight.”

“I’m the brave knight?” Tearful, she nodded. “Am I still your lady?” “You’ll always be my lady,” I promised. “Milady.”

When he reached over and cupped my cheek, I felt that familiar swell of excitement rise up inside of me, causing my heart to buck wildly. “Are you okay?” “I’m okay.” Nodding, I forced a small smile. “I just…I don’t like all the changes.” Several seconds ticked by in companionable silence. He shifted closer and moved his hand from my cheek, draping his arm around my body instead. “Don’t worry, Liz.” He wrapped me up in the warmest, safest hug I’d ever felt. “You’ll always have me, too.”

There would be a million more parties, but there would only ever be one Lizzie Young.

Because I knew deep down inside that I would sit with Lizzie Young for the rest of my life if it kept the sadness out of her eyes. If it kept her safe.

She pointed to the clock on her nightstand. “Happy New Year.” I checked the time and saw it was indeed gone midnight, which meant one thing. Leaning in close, I pressed a kiss to her cheek, finding it a little more difficult to pull away this year. “Happy New Year, Liz.”

“She’ll come around again. Lizzie’s like a boomerang. She always comes back to herself.” Yeah, but what if she didn’t?

I would find my way to her. If it was the last thing I did.

“Liz?” When I saw her curled up in a ball on the middle of her bed, I swear I felt my heart crack. Moving straight for her, I didn’t stop until I was sitting on the mattress next to her. “Liz, are you awake?” Nothing. “Hey.” Reaching for her arm, I tried to rouse her as gently as I could. “It’s me.” However, the moment I touched Liz, she went berserk, lashing out wildly with her arms and legs. She didn’t say a word throughout the whole ordeal. On the contrary, she was deathly silent in her hysteria, thrashing and kicking like her life depended on it. “Jesus!” Startled, I staggered away from the bed and held my hands up. “Lizzie, it’s me, Hugh.” When I spoke my name, something shifted inside her and she stopped moving altogether. “Hugh?”

“Sorry,” she whispered, tucking her hands under her cheek. “I thought I was still in my dream.” “That’s okay,” I replied, standing at the side of her bed. “Was it a bad dream?” She shrugged. “They’re all bad.”

“I’m sick, Hugh.” My heart sank. “You are?” She tapped her temple. “In here.” “No, you’re not.” Unable to stop myself, I reached down and stroked her cheek. “You’re perfect.” “I’m sick.” Her hand shot out from under the covers and covered mine. “I’m not right in the head.” “Don’t say that,” I pleaded, feeling panicked. “You’re my Lizzie. Same as you’ve always been.”

“Can I do anything to help you?” “Stay,” she replied with a whimper. “Don’t leave me.” “I won’t leave you, Liz,” I promised, resisting the urge to pull her into my arms. “I’m staying with you.” “No matter what?” “Yeah, Liz.” Stroking her cheek, I leaned down and kissed the top of her head. “No matter what.”

“Will I be okay, Hugh?” she asked then, looking up at me like I had the answers. “Will I ever be normal like the other girls?” Her words tore strips out of my heart and I felt an intense urge to soothe her fears. “Listen to me, because I’m going to let you in on a little secret.” “You are?” “Mm-hmm.” Reaching for her arms, I gently pulled her into a sitting position before smoothing her matted hair over her shoulders. “There’s no such thing as normal, Liz. It doesn’t exist. It’s just a word someone invented to make everyone behave the exact same way so they can tick the exact same boxes.” “Really?” Hell if I knew, but that was my theory on the matter. “It’s just a word,” I repeated, wiping a tear from her cheek. “And you are way too special to tick the ‘normal’ box.”

“You could never be described by a word, Liz, and especially not a boring one like normal. You know what else? I wouldn’t change a single thing about you. I love that you don’t tick that boring box.” Sniffling, she reached for my hand. “You wouldn’t change me if you could?” “Nope.” “How come?” “Because then you wouldn’t be you,” I explained, wiping away another one of her tears. “And a world without Lizzie Young would be a travesty.”

It was hard to explain the comfort Hugh’s presence gave me. He made it easy to be alive.

Living was a lot easier when Hugh was nearby. When I was doing my living with him.

“Elizabeth Eleanor Young!” That was my mother. “Return the boy to his mother right this instant.” “Yeah, Elizabeth.” Hugh waggled his brows playfully. “Return me to my mother right this instant.” This time my smile morphed into a full-on grin.

I smiled back at her, feeling relieved, because I liked Catherine Young a lot. She was a really nice lady, and it sucked that she spent so much time in the hospital. I understood why—my own mother had explained her illness to me—and I was rooting for her to get better. I even said a prayer for her before I went to bed at night. Every night. I made sure to never skip. Just to be safe.

This boy☹️❤️

turned our heads in unison to see Gibsie dragging a sledgehammer toward the treehouse. “I found one, lads!” “Ahh,” Liz continued to howl laughing. “He looks like Thor with his hammer!” “Did you hear that, Gibs?” Feely called out with a chuckle. “Lizzie thinks you look like a superhero!” Grinning wolfishly up at us, Gibsie winked and immediately starting flexing his nonexistent biceps. “Oh yeah,” Liz encouraged, cheering him on. “Show us those guns, Thor.”

Oh I could sob

the girl holding my hand was glowing. I meant that in the literal sense. Lizzie was glowing.

while I had no clue about hair shades, I was sure Lizzie’s one was my favorite.

But the very best thing about Lizzie had to be her fearlessness.

I’d been dragged along to countless feis competitions over the years and wasn’t that excited, but this was Lizzie’s first time attending. She was buzzing with excitement to see Gibs and Claire take the stage, while I was just happy to see her smile.

My sister looked like a swan, with her limbs in perfect symmetrical poise, while Gibsie danced like he was born to dance this very dance with her.

Usually, the girls were the stars onstage and the boys danced awkwardly in the background, but not this boy. Not our Gibs.

Ignoring their much older competition, Gibs and Claire glided across the floor, taking on the complicated dance routine like it was second nature to them. They kept their eyes on each other the whole time, dancing for each other and not the judges. I thought their dedication to one another on the stage might be why the cabinets at home were bursting to the seams with trophies and medals.

“Yes, Thor!” Lizzie screamed at the top of her lungs when one of the judges placed a medal around Gibsie’s neck, while another thrust an enormous trophy into his hands. “You’re the champion!” Hooting and hollering like a maniac for her friend, she bounced on her feet before flicking her attention to my sister, who was receiving her matching silverware and screamed, “You’re the best, Claire!”

This is so bittersweet

I tried to listen, but I couldn’t concentrate on anything except the way Mark kept playing with her braid. Lizzie didn’t seem to notice, she was too engrossed in whatever she was saying, but I did. I noticed, and I didn’t like it. Not one bit. I tried to keep smiling and ignore it, because he’d been in Lizzie’s life so long that he was practically her brother, and I, myself, often ruffled my sister’s curls with playful affection. But I couldn’t seem to shake off the protective feeling roaring to life inside of me. Maybe it was because I knew just how badly Mark bullied Gibsie and seeing him near Liz made me feel protective, or maybe it was something else, but I couldn’t shake off the bad feeling.

When he pushed her braid aside and placed his hand at the nape of her neck, I felt myself snap. “What are you doing to my friend?” My voice was loud enough to startle both Caoimhe and Liz, who looked at me like I’d lost my mind. Meanwhile, Mark arched a brow at me. “What?” “With your hand,” I argued, voice rising right along with my temper. “You’re touching her.” “What are you talking about?” Mark shot back, looking taken aback. His gaze flicked to Liz who had a blank expression on her face before returning to me. “I’m not doing anything.” “I’m not blind, asshole,” I instructed, gesturing to where he was still gripping Lizzie’s neck. “Take your hand off my friend now.” His brows shot up in surprise and he quickly dropped his hand. “Relax, Biggs. I was only playing with her.” He nudged Lizzie’s shoulder before adding, “Isn’t that right, munchkin?”

Ignoring them both, I looked at Lizzie. “Are you okay?” “I’m fine,” she replied, looking up at me with confusion. “Are you?” “Yeah,” I muttered, attention flicking back to Caoimhe and Mark, who were both laughing at me like I was a stupid child. I wasn’t. I knew all about Mark Allen and how he liked to hit kids. Kids younger and weaker than him. I also knew if he even thought about pushing Liz around like he did Gibs, I was going to lose my mind.

Narrowing my eyes, I glared at Mark, while mentally promising, One of these days, the grown-ups are going to see your true colors, and when that day comes, I’ll be right there to watch your fall from grace.

“We should write our names,” Hugh declared, dragging me from my thoughts. “Huh?” “Our names,” he explained, smiling warmly. “We should write them in the tarmac.” “Oh.” Shaking my head to clear my thoughts, I offered him a bright smile and focused all my attention on him. “Okay.” Using the pointy end of the stick he’d found, Hugh scraped the letter H into the tarmac. “Here.” He passed me the stick and pointed to the + symbol next to his letter H. “Make sure you dig your L deep. Otherwise, it’ll fade.” Grabbing the stick, I set to work on carving the letter L into the tarmac next to his, while pushing my worries to the back of my mind. “There.” Sitting back on the curb, I admired our handywork. “H plus L.” I grinned at him. “Together forever.” “Yep,” he agreed, draping his arm over my shoulders. “And in twenty years’ time, when we come back here to visit, we can show this to our kids.”

“So you are going to marry me,” I teased, elbowing his side. “I thought I already told you I would,” he replied, sounding confused. “No, you asked me would I say yes,” I corrected, shifting closer. “But you never actually said you would ask me.” “Oh.” His cheeks turned pink. “Well, consider this conversation my confirmation on that matter.”

“I don’t know about rugby kicks, but you’re prettier than any other nerd,” I replied. “Any other rugby player, too.” My words caused Hugh to full-on blush this time and I cackled. “You look even prettier when you blush.” “You’re not supposed to call me pretty, Liz,” he muttered, looking embarrassed. “I’m supposed to call you pretty.” “Then call me pretty.” He rolled his eyes. “You know you’re pretty.” “Come on, I want to hear you say it.” Turning my body sideways, I reached up and grabbed his face between my hands, forcing him to look at me. “Don’t be shy.” “You’re pretty,” he said, eyes locked on mine. “The prettiest girl in Ballylaggin.”

“Wasn’t there something you were going to ask me?” He rolled his eyes again. “Yeah, Liz, when we’re nineteen, not nine.” “Nineteen is too far away.” I laughed, feeling mischievous. “Ask me now.” “This is so embarrassing,” Hugh groaned, and then, because he knew I wouldn’t let it go, he cleared his throat before asking, “Elizabeth Eleanor Young, would you do me the great honor of becoming Elizabeth Eleanor Biggs?” “Why yes, Hugh Andrew Biggs,” I gushed through fits of laughter. “I would be delighted to.”

“Milady is too kind,” he replied in his playful, brave-knight accent, before climbing to his feet and bowing dramatically. “From this day forth, dear Wife, this sword shall be sworn to you.” He placed his stick at my feet and bowed again. “I shall slay all your enemies, shield you from dragons, and protect you with my life.” “And I shall protect you with mine, dear Husband.” Snatching the stick, I jumped to my feet and swished it around. “Have no fear, brave knight, for I shall be your secret weapon in every battle.”

Hugh opened his mouth to respond but quickly clamped it shut when his attention shifted to something behind me. “Are you okay?” I asked, watching his expression carefully. He didn’t look okay. In fact, his eyes were narrowed, and his face was set in a deep frown. “Hugh?” “Liz.” He kept his eyes trained on something over my shoulder and pointed. “Do you see that?” Curious, I swung around to look, only to freeze on the spot when my eyes took in the familiar figure. “Oh my God.” I turned back to gape at Hugh. “You see her, too?” “Yeah.” He nodded. “I see her...

“Come here, Liz,” he instructed in a stern voice, holding out his hand to me. “Right now.” I didn’t argue, moving straight to his side without hesitation. “That’s her, Hugh.” I took his outstretched hand in both of mine and burrowed into his side. “That’s the scary lady.” “I see her,” he replied, attention trained to the stranger watching us through the tree line at the end of the cul-de-sac. Snatching the stick out of my hand, he pulled me close and wielded it in front of us. “Don’t worry. I’m here.” “I think she’s a monster,” I admitted with a shiver. “She has sharp claws and everything.” “She’s not a monster,” he replied, slowly walking me backwards toward his driveway. “She’s a weirdo.” “But you can really see her, right?” I continued to probe, needing his validation, as he backed us up his porch steps. “I’m not dreaming, ...