Redeeming 6: Boys of Tommen #4

JOEY

BLOOD ON THE WALLS.

Blood on the floor.

Vacant blue eyes.

Terrified brown eyes.

Disappointed green eyes.

Faces of loved ones I continued to let down flashed in front of my eyes in the darkness, sending my anxiety to levels I couldn’t cope with me.

Trembling from head to toe, I stared at the unfamiliar ceiling, feeling the cold seep so deep into my bones that I briefly pondered if I was on the brink of death. I could hear my heart still thundering in my chest, but I was numb, and my limbs felt lifeless.

Cloaked in darkness, I scratched and tore at my arms, desperate to rid myself of the unbearable itching sensation just beneath the surface of my skin. Knowing that the hunger threatening to eat me from the inside out had little to do with food, I twisted onto my side and swallowed down a mouthful of bile.

Get the fuck up.

No, just lie down.

Don’t you dare stay down.

Go into the bathroom, find a razor, slit your goddamn wrists, and be done with this nightmare.

Don’t worry, Peter Pan. I’ll be your Wendy.

Think of the baby.

“Molloy.” Licking my cracked lips, I forced myself to twist onto my side, and then, when the movement didn’t cause me to spew my guts up, I pressed on and slowly pulled myself into a sitting position at the edge of the bed.

Pain.

It was everywhere.

In my arms.

In my eyes.

In my ribs.

In my heart.

There wasn’t an inch of me that didn’t ache anymore.

In the midst of the madness and the pain, I was drowning in my shame, knowing that this time I had pushed the boat out too far.

There was no coming back from the hell I had landed in.

The hill I needed to climb back up was too steep.

Her face.

It was all I could see in this moment.

Like a beacon of light in the darkness, guiding me home.

She doesn’t want you.

Who the fuck would want you?

Just come back to me, Joe…

On unsteady legs, I stood up and blindly felt my way around the room until my fingers landed on a light switch. The minute the room was bathed in light, I felt like passing out. The pain in my head was too fucking much to handle. Clutching onto a wooden dresser, I tried to steady my breathing and not pass out from the pain, while I squinted and slowly brought my vision into focus.

I was still here.

Still in the manor.

Mister Rugby.

“Fuck.” Blowing out a pained breath, I forced myself to look at my reflection staring back at me in the mirror over the dresser.

With my face distorted from bruising and swelling, and a couple of weeks’ worth of stubble to contend with, I struggled to recognize myself.

I didn’t look like me anymore.

I didn’t look like anyone I’d ever known.

With one hand still clutching the dresser for balance, I reached up and trailed my fingers over the yellowish bruising swelling on my face. Leaning in closer to get a better look at the damage, I squinted to focus and studied my bloodshot eyes.

I couldn’t see the white of my eyes anymore.

It had been replaced with burst blood vessels.

Confused and panicked, I jerked away from the mirror, unable to look at myself a second longer.

Because I despised the person staring back at me.

I fucking hated that piece of shit.

It took me a ridiculous amount of time to locate my runners, and even longer to get them on my feet and tie my laces.

But I did it.

Grabbing a random hoodie off the back of a chair, I gingerly shrugged it on, and pulled the hood up, before moving for the door. Somehow, I managed to put one foot in front of the other and navigate my way out of the bedroom I’d unintentionally taken refuge in and find my way to the staircase. Trip-tumbling down the steps, I clung to the banister for balance, barely making it to the bottom without breaking my fucking neck.

Shivering from the cold, I made my way to the front door and let myself out. Feeling off center and confused, I tried to get my bearings, tried to figure out where the fuck I was and where I needed to go to find my way back to her, but it wasn’t coming easy to me. My thoughts were all jumbled up and my sense of direction had deserted me.

He’s out there.

He’s coming back for you.

You’re all going to die.

Find her.

Come back to me, Joe.

Joey, don’t leave me on my own.

Shaking my head, I wobbled unsteadily on my feet as I followed the tree line down a long lane, letting my legs lead me when my brain wouldn’t comply.

Keep going.

Just get back to her.

One foot in front of the other.

After what felt like forever, a set of headlights came into view and I clumsily raised my arm, trying to flag down a spin.

The lights weren’t coming closer, though.

They were still and unmoving.

Trapped behind a set of cast-iron gates.

Stumbling along, I continued to wave my arms around, needing to get to that car.

To find my way back to her.

“Joe!”

Fuck, I was even hearing her voice now.

“Joe!”

There was something seriously wrong with me.

“Joe, it’s me.”

Blinking in confusion, I looked around. “Molloy?”

“Yeah, baby, I’m over here. The gate’s locked and I can’t get in. I’ve been here for hours.”

“You have?”

“Yeah, just keep walking towards the gate.”

It took me a moment to process her voice, and a little while longer to register the meaning behind the words coming out of her mouth, before I managed to switch my attention to the gate.

And there she was.

Standing on the other side of what looked like a fifteen feet cast-iron gate.

“Molloy.” Staggering forwards, I closed the space between us, not stopping until I reached the gate. “Molloy.”

“I’m here, Joe.” Snaking a hand between the metal bars, she reached up and cupped the back of my head and leaned in close. “I’m right here, baby.”

“I’m sorry, queen,” I croaked out, resting my forehead against the bars she was resting hers against. “I’m so fucking sorry.”

“Shh.” Both of her hands were on my face then, fingers tracing my cheeks and brushing back my hair, as she peppered kisses to the parts of my face she could reach. “I’ve been so fucking scared for you.”

“I’m a prick.”

“You’re a huge prick,” she wholeheartedly agreed, still kissing and petting and nuzzling me. “I’m so mad at you.”

“Me too.” Trembling I reached a hand through the bars to touch her, to just feel her and assure myself that she was in fact real. “I think I’m broken.”

“You’re going to be okay,” she cried, and the tears landing on her cheeks dampened mine. “I’m not going to let anything else happen to you.”

“Get me the fuck out of here, baby.”

“I can’t, Joe,” she strangled out. “I don’t know the code to open the gates and they’re too high to climb.”

“I do,” I mumbled. “I know the code.”

“What is it?”

“I, ah…” Blinking rapidly, I scoured my brain for the information that I knew I once possessed before coming up empty. “I swear I have it in my head somewhere.”

“It’s okay,” she replied, sniffling. “Don’t worry about it. You can stay here tonight with Shannon and Johnny.”

“No, no, no, I don’t want to stay here,” I groaned, clutching onto her with everything I had in me. “I want to come home with you.”

“I know you do,” she coaxed, sounding pained. “But I can’t get you out, Joe.”

“I can climb—”

“No, baby, you can’t,” she cut me off and said, “You’re too hurt.”

“You’re hurt. I hurt you.” I groaned, flinching when a surge of pain hit me square in the chest. “Fuck, I think my brain has stopped working.”

“Where have you been?”

“I don’t remember,” I mumbled, feeling drained of any hope. “I’m just so fucking sorry. I love you so much, Molloy. I swear I do.”

“I know you do, Joe. God, I know…“ Her voice trailed off and a sob escaped her. “Listen, I need you to show me your arms, okay?”

“My arms?”

“Yeah.” Sniffling, she took a step back and snatched one of my hands up in hers. “It’s okay,” she coaxed, slowly peeling the sleeve of my hoodie up, only to burst into tears when she reached my elbow.

“I’m sorry.”

“The other one,” she squeezed out, taking my other hand and doing the same.

“So sorry.”

“You’ve been with Shane Holland, haven’t you?”

“I don’t remember.”

“You could die, Joe!”

“I don’t know if I want to live, Aoif.”

“Don’t say that!” she warned, reaching her arm back through the bar to hook it around my neck. “Don’t you ever say that again, do you hear me?”

“I’m only here for you,” I confessed, reveling in the warmth of her hands on my skin. I was so fucking cold. She was the only thing that could warm me. “I want it gone, Aoif. I want it to be done with—”

“No, baby no.” Sniffling, she pulled me close and sealed her mouth to mine. “I won’t let you go.”

Shivering when the heat from her lips and tongue melted the ice inside of me, I tried to get closer, needing to be with her. “Don’t run, Molloy. I know I don’t deserve you, but please just…don’t run.”

“Never.”

“Please just… please keep loving me.”

“Always, Joe,” she breathed against my lips. “Always.”

“Because I feel like I’m all alone here, baby.”

“No.” Shaking her head, she pulled back to wipe the tears that were trickling down my cheeks and then leaned back in to gently stroke my nose with hers. “You have us.”

Trembling, I reached my hand between the bars and reached for her. “I want to be good enough for you.” Sniffling, I cradled the small swell of her stomach as the wind whipped at my face. “For both of you.”

“I believe in you,” I heard her say through her tears. “Do you hear me, Joey Lynch?” Clutching my face between her hands, she looked me right in the eyes and whispered, “I still believe in you.”

You’re the only one.