Releasing 10 (Boys of Tommen, #6)

by Chloe Walsh

“This is his fault!” Grabbing the back of my neck, he forced me to look. To lean over the edge and see. “She’s dead because of him. Because he got in her head. My brother’s big mouth killed your sister.”

“And what’ll happen to your little boyfriend if you even think about telling lies about me like Gibsie did?” “No!” I clenched my eyes shut. “Please don’t hurt him.” “Say it!” He squeezed my throat tighter. “Where will lover boy end up?” “In there,” I strangled out, body growing limp against the railing at my back. “With her…”

“A girl never forgets her first.”

“And I’ll always be your first everything, munchkin.”

Guilty eyes.

“He did it, Daddy.” With tears streaming down my face, I screamed at the top of my lungs and pointed to him. “He killed Caoimhe!”

“Tell them, please tell them,” Lizzie cried out, staggering toward Gibsie of all people. “You know.” She dropped to her knees in front of him and grabbed his hands. “I know you know, Gibs. I helped you. I did. I helped you, and now you have to help me.”

It was at that exact moment I came to the sudden realization that nothing would ever be the same.

I’d lunged for Mark the moment he returned from the Garda station with his father.

My momentary slip in sanity cost me a broken nose—courtesy of Mark—and a lifelong ban from number nine—courtesy of his father. It was worth it, though, and I would gladly take a dozen broken bones if it meant that I got to hit that prick again.

Better still, Dad had taken leave of his senses when he saw the condition of my face and had beaten seven kinds of shite out of Mark ...

“They gave me an injection,” she croaked out when I rolled her onto her side to face me. “Another one.” Puffy blue eyes greeted me. “I can’t feel a thing.”

The only problem was Lizzie’s memories were fractured, fragments that needed to be carefully pieced together, and only time could restore them.

I refused to do that because, selfishly, I wanted to keep her healthy more than I wanted to know the truth.

“I’m the one supposed to drown, not her,” she explained. “I’m going to die in water, Hugh.”

“Liz.” My entire body tensed. “Why would you say that?”

“Because of my dream.” “What dream?”

“The one where I’m trying to swim to the surface and someone is pu...

“Since as far back as I can remember,” she whispered. “The person holding me under screams at me to stop fighting, to just give up and breathe.” A full-body shudder racked through her. “When I do, I die, and that’s when I wake up.”

“I think it’s an omen,” she admitted, sounding broken. “That I was never meant to be here…that I’m supposed to die under water.”

“I’m going to grow up, Liz. One day, I’ll be a man, and if that prick even looks in your direction, I’ll put him in the ground.”

I could never make my boyfriend understand something I didn’t understand myself. I couldn’t explain why I wanted to peel the skin from my bones when I heard Gibsie’s name, but it was a very real, very physical reaction for me. One my mind assured me that I was right to feel.

“I happen to adore that complicated mind of yours.” “It’s not complicated—it’s crazy.” “You couldn’t be more wrong if you tried,” he replied in a confident tone. “You’re going to live a great life, Liz. A little complicated, sure, and maybe challenging at times, but it’ll be a fucking great one.” “I am?” “Yeah, Liz, you are.” “How can you know that?” “Because I’m going to make sure of it.”

I saw it in her eyes that day at the graveside when she fell to her knees in front of him. It was like a switch had been flicked in her mind, and he had become her mortal enemy.

All I could do now was try to hold on to the parts of her I could still reach. Hold on for dear life and pray she didn’t slip from my fingers.

Everyone took his side. Because Mark’s story added up and mine didn’t. Because he was sane, and I was labeled a sick child. Because Gerard Gibson wouldn’t help me.

Nobody was going to take my side. Nobody was going to believe me. They never had and never would. So why bother trying? Why bother caring? Why bother breathing?

I felt my body grow hot as I registered how each individual charm had been carefully selected by my boyfriend.

“Gibsie is my oldest friend in the world, and Lizzie is the only girl I’ll ever love.”

He stayed. For me.

It made me feel so confused because all the scary things the monster forced me to do, all the awful things that hurt me inside and made me cry, were the very things I wanted this boy to do to me.

While her late-night whispers were rarely coherent, I listened carefully to every word because I knew she was trying to tell me something important. Something her mind refused to make sense of.

“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.”

“You’re the only girl I’ve ever wanted, and I have zero plans of doing anything to mess that up.”

“Too bad you’ll never find out, asshole.” Kneeling on either side of my hips, Liz grabbed my face in her hands and forced my chin up to hers. Snaring me with her blue eyes, she lowered her face to mine and purred, “Because I only kiss this boy.”

The worst thing by far was hearing that not only did I tie a horse rein around my neck and throw myself off the upper loft in the haybarn, but Hugh broke his elbow when he fell over the ledge trying to cut me down.

He did end up cutting me down and saving my life that day, and he never once held it against me, but I did. I held it against me and would never forgive myself for putting him in harm’s way.

“Let it go, Bella. She’s not worth it.”

Feely shrugged unapologetically. “It’s my hands.” He raised one for emphasis and wiggled his fingers. “Guitar fingers, lad.”

“Uh, a little privacy!” some random girl squealed, as she rolled around on my boyfriend’s bed with a vaguely familiar-looking boy on top of her. “Goddammit, Feely!”

“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.”

Make her better?

“Do I need to take care of him like I took care of Caoimhe?”

“Just someone I met in the school music club.” “Oh really.” I grinned. “Do I know her?” “Don’t think so,” he replied. “She’s new.” “And does this girl have a name?”

“No, Liz, I’m afraid to fuck you because I don’t know which version of you I’d be fucking!”

“You’re going to come out of this.” Sniffling, Hugh turned his head away and used his shoulder to wipe his check. “And when you do, you’re going to hate yourself as much as I wish I could hate you.”

have loved that girl since I was seven years old.”

“No, Liz, you’re the bad guy because you fucked my friend!” he roared, vibrating with tension. “You’re the bad guy because you broke my fucking heart last night!”

“Look at me, baby! Take a good fucking look!”

This, I suddenly realized. This was the line, the limit, and the breaking point. This was where we parted. This was the part where I left the sinking ship.