Binding 13: Boys of Tommen #1

“What are you doing up?” Dad barked when I walked into the living room later that night to get my phone that I had foolishly forgotten on the couch when I was doing an emergency clean up after Johnny left.

“I left my phone down here,” I quickly explained. I’d been so distracted by Johnny that I had to get all my chores done in record time.

“Then get it and go,” Dad ordered. “United are playing.”

It wasn’t like me to leave stuff lying around the place, but my head was in the clouds.

Cloud Johnny, to be precise.

I knew I had played a dangerous game of Russian roulette by taking him up to my bedroom this afternoon.

If my father had come home, he would have killed me.

The problem was, if the opportunity presented itself, I knew I would do it again.

Having him in my space like that, even just for a little while, was wonderful.

It was personal.

And I felt safe.

Like nothing could touch me when he was close.

In a messed-up way, I think I did it on purpose?

Like I half-hoped my father would come home just so he could see the huge boy who I knew wouldn’t let him hurt me.

That was a crazy thought.

I was being crazy.

Thinking about Johnny sitting on my bed, offering to tutor me, made my heart thump against my ribcage.

He was so smart.

Like for real, he was incredibly intelligent and patient and a million other amazing things.

After he left, I spent the rest of the evening in emotional overload, thinking about how reckless I had behaved.

I had no idea what I was thinking when I climbed onto his lap like that, but I didn’t care because Johnny hugged me back.

He held me to his body and hugged me so tight that I was still trembling from the contact.

And then he kissed me goodbye.

Granted, it was on the cheek, but still.

His lips had touched my body without coercion.

I didn’t even care about Bella right now.

Not tonight at least.

It was hard to dwell on the negative when something so incredibly positive had just happened to me.

I understood that he didn’t see me in the way I saw him, and I got that this would never amount to anything more than friends, but I didn’t care because he seemed to be sticking around.

He seemed determined to help me.

I wasn’t sure what was happening, but whatever it was, I didn’t want it to stop.

I was happy to be his friend.

I just wanted to keep him in my life.

In whatever way I could.

I wanted him to stay…

“Are you deaf?” my father’s slurred voice penetrated my thoughts, bringing me back down to reality with a depressing bang.

“Huh?”

“I said get out of the fucking way,” Dad barked, tossing the remote at me. “I can’t see the match with ya!”

The remote smacked off my hip and landed on the floor, resulting in the batteries flying out and rolling under the couch.

“Sorry,” I hurried out of his way of the television and quickly scrambled to retrieve the batteries and put them back in the remote for him.

“Why are you being like that?” Dad asked then, eyeing me with bleary mistrust.

Exhaling slowly, I set the remote down on the coffee table and picked up my phone before turning to look at him. “Being like what, Dad?”

“Acting strange,” he accused, glaring at me. “Smirking to yourself.”

I shrugged my response, unsure how to answer that.

“What’s going on?” he growled, watching me like a hawk, his brown eyes hard and unyielding.

“Nothing’s going on,” I replied quietly.

He pushed his recliner down and stood up.

The move evoked a tsunami of terror to flood my body and I scuttled backwards.

“Give me that,” he instructed, holding a hand out to me.

My brows shot up. “My phone?”

“Yes, your phone,” he sneered. “Give it to me.”

Immediately, he began to scroll through my messages and call list.

I didn’t understand why, considering he was swaying so much I doubted he could read in his state.

But I didn’t dare move, knowing that if I walked out, this could turn messy.

“Where’s his number?” he demanded, gripping my phone in his huge hand.

“Whose number, Dad?” I croaked out.

“The lad sniffing around ya,” he snarled. “The hotshot from the papers.”

My heart sank. “What?”

His gaze flicked from my phone to me. “Fran, next door, said she saw a lad from your school driving around here,” he slurred. “Said she saw him drop you home from school today.” He turned his attention back to my phone. “Where is his number? Where are his texts? Who the fuck are you knocking around with? Is it him? That rugby asshole? The Kavanagh prick?”

Dammit, Fran!

“Nobody, Dad,” I lied through my teeth. “I was sick in school today and Claire and her brother Hughie drove me home.”

“Hughie Biggs?” Dad hissed, swaying on his feet again. “That jumped-up gobshite? That’s why you’re walking about with a shit-eating grin on your face?”

“What – no!” I shook my head and backed away. “I’m not with Hughie. I’m not with anyone.”

“I don’t believe you,” he growled.

“I’m not lying,” I choked out. “I don’t have a boyfriend.”

“You don’t have to have a boyfriend to whore yourself,” he hissed. “Ask your mother that.”

“I’m not seeing anyone,” I strangled out, panicked. “I swear to god, I’m not!”

Reaching out, he clamped a beefy hand on my shoulder and pressed down hard. “If you’re lying to me –”

“I’m not, Dad,” I cried out, buckling under the force of his touch. “Please –”

My words broke off when my father’s fist connected with my cheek, hitting me so hard that my head snapped back from the force.

Fight back, Shannon.

Grab something.

Anything.

Do something.

Pain scorched through my face, tears filled my eyes, and still, I did nothing.

I didn’t fight back.

I didn’t try to run.

I just stood there.

“Come here,” he snarled. Keeping his hand on my shoulder, fingers digging into my bones, Dad marched me into the kitchen, not stopping until we were at the sink.

“Turn it on,” he instructed.

Without hesitation, I reached over and turned on the tap.

“Fill that up,” he ordered, toppling a pint glass off the draining board and into the basin of the sink.

Thankfully, it didn’t break and I hurried to fill the glass, resisting the urge to tuck and roll to break free from his grip.

“See this?” he hissed as he dropped my phone into the water. “See it, girl?”

Motionless, I nodded, watching my phone sink to the bottom of the pint glass.

“If I find out you’re lying to me, it won’t be your phone I’ll be drowning,” he growled, digging his fingers so hard into my shoulder that my back bowed without my brain’s permission. “Do ya hear me?”

“I hear you,” I whimpered, shaking from head to toe.

“Don’t you go running to your brother with stories, either,” he hissed in my ear. Shoving me away, he added, “Or I’ll fuck you both on the streets.”

I wish you would, I just about stopped myself from saying.

Because what would happen to Tadhg, Ollie, and Sean if we were gone?

Tadhg was next in line to me, therefore he would take the brunt of my father’s wrath.

That concept was abhorrent to me.

Reaching up, I rubbed my cheek and forced myself to not cry.

He gave me one final look before shaking his head. “Go on – get out of my sight.”

Without another word, I hurried out of room with tears stinging my eyes.

I hate you! I silent-screamed as I made the familiar run to my room, I fucking hate you!

Racing up to my room, I made a conscious decision to tip-toe past Joey’s room, forcing myself not to make a sound, and then quickly locked myself inside my bedroom.

Flicking off my bedroom light, I scrambled into my bed, threw the covers over my head, and grabbed my discman.

Less than two minutes later, there was a soft knock on my bedroom door.

“Shan?” Joey’s voice came from the other side of the frame. “Everything alright?”

I debated not answering him, but decided against it, knowing that he would automatically jump to the right conclusion and all hell would break loose.

He’d only just come back from Aoife’s tonight.

I didn’t want him to go again.

So instead, I called back, “I’m fine, Joe. Just tired.”

There was a long pause before he spoke again. “You sure?”

“Yeah,” I croaked out, pressing my fingers to my bottom lip so it didn’t wobble and my voice didn’t tremble.

“You don’t sound fine,” my brother replied.

Dammit.

Clearing my throat, I added, “I’m having female issues.”

“Female issues?” he called back, sounding confused.

“I’m on my period.”

“For fuck’s sake, I really didn’t need to know that, Shan,” Joey groaned, and I imagined him shuddering on the other side of the door.

A few moments later, the sound of his bedroom door clicking shut filled my ears.

Releasing a ragged breath, I batted away the hot tears burning my cheeks.

One of these days, I was going to get out of this house.

And when I did, I was never going to come back.

It was with that thought, that tiny slither of hope, and Johnny’s mix CD playing in my ears, that I drifted off to a fitful sleep.