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“And to think I welcomed him into my home with open arms.” He cleared his throat again, but it sounded like a snarl. “Meanwhile, you were seven years old when you came bounding up the lane.” He paused to drain the contents of his glass, before adding, “And even then, you were more of a man than he’ll ever be.”
“He called me a pervert.” Gibsie cried harder, dropping onto my sister’s bed. “He said I was like him.” “He was talking out of his hole,” I reiterated, feeling my temper rise. Jesus Christ, one of these days, I was going to break that asshole’s nose. “Did anyone hear him?” “Me,” Claire chimed in from her perch underneath the sprawled-out flanker, who was still clad in his graduation gown and using my sister as his personal cushion.
“As if,” Claire snorted. “He wouldn’t dare open his mouth to Gerard with Johnny Kavanagh around.”
“When you open your eyes in the morning, my face is the first thing you’re going to see. All day, every day, and every fucking night if I get my way, until school starts in September. Because you are more important to me than anything else in my life. And because there’s nowhere else that I would rather be than right there with you.”
The fact that I was, by far, her most responsible child and had never given her so much as a whisper of trouble in almost thirteen years—unlike a certain curly-haired, demon wild child and her equally wild, equally curly-haired sidekick—didn’t hurt my cause either.
“Oh, stop it,” Mam sighed, rolling her eyes. “You have a crush on the girl. A little less of the dramatics please, son.” “No, I don’t have a crush on the girl,” I countered evenly. “I’m in love with the girl, and contrary to your dismissal of my feelings, I assure you that not only are they very real but very permanent.” I scowled back at her amused expression. “But it’s good to know where you stand on my relationship, Mam. Let’s rehash this conversation in twenty years when I swing by the house with my wife—previously known as the girl—and our children.” Narrowing my eyes, I added, “I look
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“The only thing that’s clear, Mam, is that in this family, good behavior is punished,” I countered, mirroring her actions by folding my arms across my chest. “I get straight A’s at school. I achieve countless academic merits. I make the team in every sport I play. I never bring trouble to your door. I follow all the rules. I look after Claire and Gibs. I cook the meals and iron the uniforms when you get called into work. I clean my room. I do my laundry. I mow the lawn. I take out the rubbish. I change the light bulbs. I don’t break curfew. I don’t drink. I don’t smoke. I don’t take drugs. I
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The monster’s gone, a voice that sounded awfully like my sister echoed in my mind. You’re free now. No, I wasn’t. Because the monster might have been gone, but I would never be free of him.
I was quite aware that my calm approach in a medical crisis was in direct contrast to most lads my age, but then again, most lads my age weren’t fascinated by aortic root surgery.
“And loosen that tie, will ya?” he added, giving his best friend a final once-over. “You’re heading into a classroom, Gibs, not a courtroom.” “Anything for you, bestie,” Gibsie replied, quickly falling into step with him. “If you call me that again, I’ll throttle ya,” Kav grumbled, while planting a hand on Gibsie’s shoulder and steering him away from a puddle of rainwater. “Aye-aye, Captain.”
“I’m not interested in your sloppy seconds, lad,” Pierce laughed. “Although, I would absolutely make an exception for that girlfriend of yours.” Waggling his brows, he teased, “Be sure to pass her over when you’re done.”
“Yeah.” Roughly shoving my chair back, I jerked to my feet and moved for him. “You really shouldn’t have said that, asshole.”
“I’m going to get a job here when I’m old enough,” Hugh announced on Thursday evening as we splashed around in the water.
Apparently, the boy who’d been my best friend since junior infants had become quite the heartbreak prince at Tommen, with an impressive line of admirers vying for his affection.
“Sadhbh filed complaints against me?” I managed to squeeze out, breathing hard and fast. “Accusing me of what?” She shuffled through her notes before saying, “Defaming her sons.” “Sons,” I whispered, feeling weak. “Plural?” “Yes. Both Mrs. Allen’s stepson and biological son are listed as victims in her complaint.” Victims. Did I hear that right? They were victims?
“What kind of event?” “The rugby youth’s annual award ceremony.” “For what?” “Cap won half a dozen trophies,” Feely explained. “Gibs is his plus one.”
“Kiss, don’t touch.” She rolled her eyes. “It’s a stupid rule.” “It’s a safe rule,” I corrected, trailing my thumb over my bottom lip. “You bit me.” “And?” Liz planted her hands on her hips and smirked. “Did you like it?” I fucking loved it.
She was wearing a white vest, a pair of khaki combats, and army boots, and I was having a hard time not staring at the way her nipples were poking out. Apparently, so were the lads, which pissed me off to the point where I couldn’t hear a word of the conversation happening around me.
“Ah, unlucky, Biggs,” Pierce snickered when the bottle he was spinning landed on Liz. Meanwhile, I turned to stone. “Don’t worry, lad, it’s only a shift.” “I’m not playing,” Lizzie replied breezily, plucking at a blade of grass. “Spin again.”
“I want you to know that you are always welcome in our home,” she continued, reaching across the console to take my hand in hers. “I love you like a daughter, and I always will.” She squeezed my hand. “You have a place in my heart and that will never change.” Tears trickled down my cheeks. Sniffling, I squeezed her hand back. “That’s my girl.”
“You can’t have sunshine without rain,” I offered with a shrug. “I’ll be the school raincloud.” That made her laugh, and I was glad because it was important to me that this girl never lost her shine. Like I did. Claire had a unique kind of innocence about her. She saw the world through untainted eyes. Her heart was pure, and her mind was uncorrupted.
she was a special girl who, despite her stark differences to me, I couldn’t have loved more.
“You did see her in that uniform,” I strangled out, burying my head in my hands. “How in the name of Jesus does she walk with those stilts for legs?” “No clue, Hugh, but they are, by far, the sexiest stilts for legs I’ve ever seen.” “Not fucking helping, lad.”
“Hey! I never said I was part of the 99 percent, asshole,” he shot back with a laugh. “Besides, someone has to fly the solo flag.” “Yeah, and you do more than enough flag waving for the rest of us,” I grumbled, giving him the side-eye. Feely shrugged unapologetically. “It’s my hands.” He raised one for emphasis and wiggled his fingers. “Guitar fingers, lad.” “Get that thing out of my face before I puke on you,” I warned, slapping his hand away.
“Don’t worry about it, Hugh. He probably thinks we’re fucking each other.” “No offense, lad, but I’m way too far out of your league for him to think that.” “Whatever you say, virgin.” “Right back at ya, whore.”
There was a disco at the town’s rugby club tonight for the fourth years to celebrate their junior cert results. Instead of getting shit-faced with the lads beforehand, I was being held captive by a blond in a thong.
“I may or may not have briefly glanced,” I mused, pushing the glorious visual of Liz in a bra and thong to the back of my mind, but not before leaving a mental note to return to said visual when I was alone tonight. “Accidentally, of course.”
“What do you accidently think?” That you’re the most beautiful thing my eyes have ever seen.
“Jesus Christ, you’re so beautiful, it hurts to look at you. There’s not another girl in my world that can hold a candle to you, and that’s not an exaggeration because I haven’t taken my eyes off you since I saw you on the school bus in first class.”
Lying on his stomach, with his arms wrapped around the pillow and his head angled toward me, Hugh whispered, “Thanks for coming home, baby.” “Home?” My heart skipped four solid beats, and a violent shiver racked through me. “How am I home, Hugh?” With a heated expression, he pulled up on one elbow and reached for me with his free hand. “Because you belong in this house.” Cupping the back of my head, he drew me closer. “You belong in this bed.” Fisting my hair, Hugh angled my chin up to his and traced his tongue over my bottom lip before pulling back to look in my eyes. “You belong with me.”
“Because it’s like you said: I belong with you.” She gripped my ass hard again before whispering, “And you belong in me.” “Jesus, Liz,” I groaned, unable to take the pressure in both my heart and shorts. “You can’t say things like that.”
“Well, if it isn’t the famous five assembled in my kitchen,” Sinead called out in a cheerful tone when she sauntered into the kitchen on Friday evening. “Not that I don’t love all your bright, little faces, but isn’t there another mother’s kitchen you would like to descend on for a change?” We all stared blankly at her. “No? Okay then.”
“Hey, you’re the one sitting his junior cert exams in June,” I laughed, holding my hands up. “I’m just trying to be a supportive girlfriend.” “If that’s the case, then feel free to support me,” he replied with a smirk, patting the mattress. “I could always use a refresher course in human biology.”
“Because you’re a little rebel.” A shiver racked through me when Hugh placed his hands on the armrests of my chair and leaned in close, caging me in. “Aren’t ya?” “Maybe,” I breathed, heart bucking wildly, when my legs opened of their own accord, and he slid between them. “But I’m your rebel.” “No.” His lips brushed against mine as he spoke. “You’re my baby.”
“You already got your birthday present,” he replied, gesturing to the shiny new semicolon charm attached to my bracelet. “And I love it,” I agreed, pecking his lips. “Almost as much as I love you.”
“No, you weren’t caged in a cell to do your exams,” Gibs corrected with a bite to his tone. “Meanwhile, I was in a special little room all by my lonesome, with a man, who I can only describe as the reincarnation of Smithers, to write down my answers, and that freaky fucking guidance counselor Miss Moore chaperoning.” His gray eyes widened right along with his outrage. “And she’s pregnant, Patrick. You know how stressed pregnant bellies make me get.”
“Exactly,” Kav agreed. “The scribe was there to help with your dyslexia, lad.”
I knew BCS had a separate disco happening across town at the local GAA pavilion, but we didn’t go there. Warned by our teachers and parents to steer clear of “those kinds of boys,” we were segregated to be with the boys we went to school with. The good boys, the promising ones, with fat wallets and even fatter egos.
Walking the line. Keeping my thoughts to myself. Burying my pain. It was bubbling inside of me. One of these days, I was going to go off like a bomb.
Hugh had the capacity to physically dominate me at any given moment if he wanted to, like the monster had, and there would be nothing I could do to fight him off, just like there hadn’t been with the monster. This boy could take whatever he wanted from my body with force, and I felt secure in the knowledge he never would.
We would rent a small apartment on the outskirts of the city and survive on beans on toast until we established ourselves in our chosen careers. Money would be tight for the first few years, with me taking on the role of primary breadwinner until my boyfriend attained residency and the real money started to roll in. From there, Hugh would take on the role of provider, while I concentrated on writing my first novel.
“Hu…gh…” “Does Saint Hugh know what a dirty, little whore you are?” the monster snarled, destroying me from the inside out. “Does he know all the ways I’ve had you, munchkin?” “Hugh,” I screamed, louder now, as I fought to push him off me and wake up. “Hugh!” “He’ll never have your firsts, munchkin. All of those belong to me,” the monster taunted, gripping my throat tighter than before. “My seed will always be the first to have grown inside you.” He laughed cruelly then. “Does your precious Hugh know that? Huh? Have you been a bad girl while I’ve been gone and told your hero boyfriend about
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I wanted to slit my wrists to the bone and bleed the pain away. At least that way, it would be over. It would stop. Because I needed it to all just stop.
“Hmm?” I mused, captivated by how the houses looked so blurry as we whizzed past. “Faster, Mam.”
That wasn’t to say that Johnny wasn’t a good friend of mine. He was. He was the first one to step in to defend the three of us and always kept his word. If Cap told you he would do something, it got done, and if he told you he’d be somewhere, you didn’t have to worry about him not showing up. His word was good, his heart was gold, his love life was private, his lips were sealed, and his devotion to rugby was unmatched.
Which begged the question, how could Johnny relate to what I was going through with Liz? How could he understand that a girl came before rugby for me? He couldn’t. Maybe one day, a girl would walk into his world and bring him to his knees, like Liz did to me, but until that day came, it was easier to say nothing.
My tears spilled over, and I tried to plead my case. “You don’t understand how they make me feel.” “I understand what happens when you don’t take them,” he snapped, emotions rising right along with his voice. “I understand the last time you did this, you almost died.” His eyes filled with tears and his chest heaved as he continued to shout, “I had to cut you down from a makeshift noose, Liz! You spent six weeks in a goddamn hospital bed. Why would you even think about coming off your meds again?”
“I’m not going through this with you every time you decide you’re cured,” he warned, shaking his head. “There’s no cure, Liz, but there is treatment, so let yourself be fucking treated!” “I just wanted to be normal, okay!” I screamed, tears flowing freely down my face. “I just wanted a fucking shot at being like every other person our age who doesn’t have to ram pill after fucking pill down their throat in order to function!” Feeling myself slip, I fisted my hair and tugged, needing the physical anguish to distract my mind from the very real meltdown brewing. “I don’t want to live my life like
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Crying now
“Besides, I don’t like blonds.” “You don’t?” Feely asked, eyebrows raised in surprised. “What can I say?” Kav replied with another shrug of his shoulders. “I’m more of a brunette man.” “I don’t like blonds,” Gibsie mimicked before sticking his middle finger up at him. “What do you call me, asshole?” “Am I fucking you, Gerard?” “I sincerely hope not, Jonathan.” “Well then, there you go.” “Say you like blonds.” “I will not.” “Say it.” “It’s a preference. I’m allowed to have a preference, asshole.” “You most certainly are not,” Gibsie huffed. “Not when it leaves me out.” “Oh my Jesus, Gibs, it’s
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I was told to have my mother drop Liz off at the nearest hospital because he had washed his hands of her. He had washed his hands of his mentally ill teenage daughter. My girlfriend’s father actually said those words out loud.
