Releasing 10 (Boys of Tommen, #6)

by Chloe Walsh

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.

Since the funeral, Caoimhe spent a lot more time babysitting Claire and Hugh because Pete was so sad and Sinead needed the help.

“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

“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.”

If boys only did that to girls they loved, did that mean Mark loved me? Because I didn’t want Mark to love me. I wanted Hugh to love me.

“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.”

“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. Bad. Bad. Bad.

“Nobody told me!” I screamed, pulling on my hair so hard a clump of it came away in my hand. So I threw that at her, too. “And it hurts, and it’s not making me better, and it’s all your fault!”

“She’s sick, Hugh. Like I’ve said.” “With what?” I argued back, unwilling to give an inch. “It’s private.” “Private isn’t a medical illness, Caoimhe.” “Jesus Christ, Hugh, it’s complicated, okay?” “Yeah, well, I can handle complicated,” I snapped back. “I’m not your thick-as-shit boyfriend.”

“Are you threatening me, Hugh Andrew Biggs?” “How could I do that when I’m just a kid?” Caoimhe stared at me for a long, unblinking beat until she relented with a frustrated growl. “All right, genius, you think you’re mature enough for this shit-bomb of a conversation.” She sighed in resignation and pointed to the table. “Sit your ass down and let’s find out.”

“Take your daughter home and love her,” the doctor replied simply. “Never underestimate the healing power of a mother’s love.”

When Mam came into my room and told me the good news—that Lizzie was finally home from the hospital—I’d lost it. I had no clue what came over me in that moment, but I broke down and bawled before proceeding to rant like a deranged lunatic at my mother for keeping something so important from me.

“Hey, Hugh?” Liz said a little while later, when we were reading on her bed. “Yeah, Liz.” 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.”

“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 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.

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.”

Oh God, why can't this man just die?

“Aw, look at you, getting all protective and jealous over my baby sister,” Caoimhe cooed, clearly thinking this was hilarious. “Don’t worry, Hugo Boss-Man, the whole of Ballylaggin knows Lizzie’s heart belongs to you.”

She's so fucking slow that it's pissing me off, omggg

I saw the bruises he’d left on my friend when he beat him up. He might have had everyone else tricked into thinking he was the golden boy of Ballylaggin, but he couldn’t fool me. And unlike Gibsie, I had no problem calling him out on his bullshit. I had done just that on countless occasions but to no avail, because he was a clever bastard who had managed to pull the wool over his stepmother’s eyes.

Omg :(

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.

“I’ve never hated anyone before, but I truly hate him.” “Can you keep a secret?” I whispered, feeling nervous. Gibsie’s eyes were wary, but his head was nodding slowly, as he walked over to my bed and sat down next to me. “I’ll keep your secret, Lizzie.” “You swear?” Another noble nod. “Pinky promise.” Hooking my pinky finger through his, I turned and gave him my full attention. “I think I hate him, too.”

when the white stuff comes out, he gets out of her bed and goes back to…he goes downstairs for a drink.” Gibsie reached up and wiped a tear from his cheek. “He’s bad, Liz. He does it at my house, too.” My eyes widened in horror. “To Caoimhe when she sleeps over?” Gibsie paused for a moment before closing his eyes and nodding.

Stop, i can't do this anymore

“I want him to go away,” I admitted, scurrying closer to him, as I admitted my thoughts for the first time out loud. “I don’t like when he’s in my house.” Shivering, I added, “I want him to go away and never come back.”

Poor baby :(

“I haven’t told anyone else,” I whispered. “Not even Hugh.” “Me either,” he whispered. “Not even Claire.”

:(

“We’ll be grown-ups by the time that happens, with our own houses, and he won’t be invited inside.” “Like the three little pigs and the big, bad wolf?” “Exactly,” he agreed with a small smile. “Mark Allen can huff and puff all he wants when I’m a grown-up, but I’ll be strong enough to keep him out.” “Me too,” I agreed, balling my small hand into a fist. “And the brave knight will stop him with his sword if he tries to come down my chimney.” “Hey, Lizzie?” “Yeah, Gibs?” “You sure you’re okay?” “Yep.” Smiling, I reached up and brushed a tear from his cheek. “I’m always okay, Gibs.”

I loved Gibsie, he was one of my greatest friends in the world, but sometimes his house reminded me of mine, and I didn’t want to be there, either.

“It’s your sister’s birthday,” Mark stated, walking into Lizzie’s room for the third time tonight. Without knocking. For the third time. “The next time you walk in here without knocking on the door, I’m going to rip your fucking head off,”

“Are you honestly this devoid of intellect?” I demanded, having had more than my regular quota of Mark Allen for one weekend. “If you’re too thick to take the hint, then let me spell it out for you. Liz doesn’t care about your girlfriend’s party. Not even a little bit, and neither do I. So why don’t you do all of us a favor and fuck right off.” The asshole looked so taken aback that someone younger than him had the nerve to stand up to him that he was distracted when I made my next move. Shoving at his chest as hard as I could, I felt a surge of satisfaction when he staggered backwards, giving me ample opportunity to close and lock the door.

aren’t you afraid of him retaliating?” “No, because it’s all talk,” I replied, entirely unafraid of the bully I was quickly gaining on in the height department. Returning to her side, I snatched the dice up to roll my turn. “Bullies feed on fear.” Shrugging, I added, “And Mark can’t feed on me.” “Why not?” “Because I don’t fear him.”

“Thank you for my cake.” A laugh escaped her when she eyed the bite-sized chunk taken out of the number one. “Gibsie?” “Do you even need to ask?”

I fucking loved reading. Thrillers, murder mystery, true crime, autobiographies—it didn’t matter. I devoured every genre like crack. For me, books trumped rugby, soccer, and pretty much every other extracurricular activity I found myself lumped into.

Leaning in close, I kept my eyes trained on hers when I pressed my lips to her wrist. I had no clue what to do once my lips were there, so I just stared at her for a long beat before asking, “Is that okay?” “Perfect.”

“Why’d you do that, Liz?” She kept her eyes on mine when she cradled her wrist to her chest and whispered, “Because I wanted to know what it felt like to kiss you.”

“Keep it up, Baby Biggs,” he warned when she crashed into him for the millionth time. “Because if I’m going under, you’re coming with me.”

“I’m warning you, Baby Biggs.” Laughing, Patrick reached out and pushed her float away. “If I go under, I’m taking you with me.” “Careful with the hair, Patrick,” Claire groaned, narrowly avoiding getting dunked. “It takes forever to tame these curls.”

“What did he tell her?” he continued to demand, scratching and tearing at my clothes. “You know something, don’t you?”

I shook my head, unable to release my hold on her son. Because her son was my sun.

“Jesus.” Releasing a growl, he shook his head and looked away, while muttering, “Where did my sister find you?” I kept my frown in place when he unzipped his schoolbag and shoved the carrier bag inside, but on the inside, I was smiling. And I think he was, too.

“No, she has the best legs,” Feely whispered in my ear. Following his line of sight, I locked eyes on the lanky blond on the other side of the room, attempting to hide her long hair beneath a dark wig. Feeling irrationally irritated by Feely’s observation, I strived for calm when all I wanted to do was take off this shitty platformed boot and clatter him with it.

“I can hear Danny’s smart-ass remarks already.” “Danny’s a dick,” Liz chimed in, moving to stand beside me. “And if he gives you guys shit for this, I’ll take off my shoe and stab him with it.” She looked at me and winked. “Especially you, birthday boy.” Oh fuck. My poor, poor heart.

“He likes you.” “Who?” Feeling another surge of intense jealousy, I pointed up the street to where Feely was wrestling with Gibs. Liz looked to where I was pointing and nodded. “Yeah.” She sighed heavily. “I know.” “You do?” She sighed again. “He told me.” Okay, this was new information to me.

So there were other lads. What was I thinking; of course there were others. Fuck. “Which is?” “That there’s only one boy I want as my boyfriend.” She kept her eyes on mine when she stepped closer, so close that I could feel her heart thundering in her chest. “And he’s the only boy I’ll ever say yes to.”

“Come on, Hughie,” Feely leaned over our shared desk and whispered on Monday morning. “You can’t honestly still be mad about the Lizzie thing.” “Oh, you better believe I am,” I hissed back, roughly digging him in the side with my elbow. “Now fuck off back to your own side of the desk.”

“Well, I’m telling you now.” “Yeah,” I snapped. “Four months after the event.” Feely shrugged. “Better late than never.” “Better never than never, more like.”

“Hold up.” Narrowing his eyes, he gave Feely a wary look. “You didn’t ask Claire out when you were scampering around looking for a girlfriend, did you?” “No, Gibs,” Feely chuckled. “I wouldn’t dream of it.” “Good. You go right ahead and keep on not dreaming about it,” Gibsie replied in a warning tone. “Because I’m not as in control of my actions as he is.”

“I promise you faithfully that I will never try to take your Claire-Bear,” he continued, tone laced with amusement. “Good,” Gibsie replied, looking mollified. “Because I would miss you an awful lot if I had to kill you.”

“You know what they say about weirdos, don’t you?” “They’re drawn to fellow weirdos?” Hugh mused with a knowing smile. “That must be why I’m so obsessed with you.”

I couldn’t help but laugh because Hugh had somehow made something so traumatizing funny instead.

“Who’s a parasitic intruder, Thor?” Liz asked, butting his hip with hers to scoot over. “Who do I need to hurt?”

It wasn’t Feely’s fault. He didn’t live on the street, and Gibsie was a master concealer. The worse shit got at home, the more outrageously funny he became.