Redeeming 6: Boys of Tommen #4

JOEY

I WASN’T sure how I made it back to Johnny’s house in the dark, but I must have, because when I woke up the following morning, it was to the sight of the rim of a porcelain toilet bowl. There was also the sound of a woman losing her shit on the other side of the door.

Feeling a small bit more together than I had the day before, I climbed to my feet and quickly checked the bathroom for damage. Relieved to find none, I decided to bite the bullet and step outside, needing to get my ass out of Mister Rugby’s manor and back to the mother of my child without delay.

Disgust didn’t come close to explain how I was feeling about myself.

Hatred wasn’t a strong enough word, either.

What I’d done.

My behavior.

How I’d left her.

I couldn’t allow myself to think about it, because thinking about it made me want to die.

Wincing when pain ricocheted through my temple, a direct reaction to the sunlight pouring through the window, I opened the bathroom door and stepped into the hallway. I had a perfect view of who I presumed was Kavanagh’s mother, giving her son a piece of his mind. With her hands on her hips, and her back to me, the low-size blonde stood in the doorway of yet another room in their fortress of fortune.

The sound of my sister chiming in, “I’ll go. Right now, I promise,” instantly had my back up.

Fucked in the head or not, I knew that voice.

Her panic beckoned me like a siren.

Falling back into the habit of a lifetime and taking the heat off my sister, I called out, “Thanks for the bed, Kavanagh, can I borrow a hoodie?”

Because I could take whatever this lady might throw at us for intruding on her home.

Her disdain.

Her outrage.

Her accusations.

She couldn’t hurt me because none of it mattered to me like it did to Shannon.

Kavanagh’s mother cast a brief glance in my direction before turning back to her son and resuming her ranting.

Fair enough.

I couldn’t exactly blame the woman for her reaction.

When she was finished giving her son a piece of her mind and turned her attention back to me, I braced myself for battle, but it wasn’t anger I saw in her eyes.

It wasn’t fear, either.

It was sadness.

And fuck, somehow that made it worse.

“Hello.”

“Hello.”

“What’s your name, love?”

“Joey.” Eyeing her warily as she walked towards me, I stepped out of her way, backing up against the bathroom door. “Lynch.”

“Joey Lynch,” she repeated, not stopping until she was standing directly in front of me. “I’m Edel.” She held her hand out to me. “Edel Kavanagh.”

“Okay.” I replied, eyeing her outstretched hand.

I didn’t move.

Instead, I watched and waited.

This was her turf.

I was the intruder.

The next move was on her.

“Shake my hand, love,” she instructed. “It’s good manners.”

Brows furrowed, I forced myself to accept her handshake.

“Now.” Giving my hand a small squeeze, she smiled up at me. “Are you hungry, Joey Lynch?”

“Uh.” Confused, I stared down at her and slowly shook my head. “No.“

“No?” Warm brown eyes shone up at me and her lips tipped upwards. “Are you lying to me, love?”

Completely fucking thrown, I shook my head again. “No, I just…”

“You just what, love?”

“I need to leave,” I heard myself tell her, still confused as fuck at this tiny woman. “I, ah, wouldn’t have stayed at all, but I couldn’t climb the gate to get out.”

“It’s a tall gate,” she replied with a knowing smile. “I’ve climbed it a time or two back in the day.”

Well shit. “Sounds like there’s a story there.”

“Like you wouldn’t believe.” She offered me a devilish grin and headed off down the hallway. “Follow me, Joey, love. No child leaves my house without a full belly.”

“I’m not a child,” I replied, reluctantly trailing after her.

“How about no friend of my son leaves on an empty stomach then,” she called over her shoulder, leading me into the kitchen. “Man, woman, or child. Does that suit you better?”

Hovering in the kitchen doorway, I watched as she busied herself with setting the island with cutlery. “I’m not his friend, either.”

“Well, your sister certainly is.”

“Yeah, well, when it comes to my sister and your son, labeling them as friends is a fairly naïve, not to mention an outdated notion.”

“Intuitive,” she mused. “You know what, Joey love, I think you might be right.”

“Your son could do a lot worse,” I heard myself say, immediately shifting into defense mode, as I watched her plate a heap of scones onto a serving dish. Scones. She was making scones and tea in an actual fucking teapot. “But he couldn’t do better than my sister.”

Her lips tipped upwards. “Is that so?”

“Just putting it out there.” Shrugging, I folded my arms across my chest. “Don’t judge a book by its cover.”

“I could say the same thing to you.”

“How’d you figure?”

“Well, aren’t you doing the same to me?” She smiled over her shoulder before moving for the kettle.

“With all due respect, lady—’

“Edel.”

“Edel,” I reluctantly corrected. “No offense, but you’re the one with the mansion. I think it’s fair to say that your story is self-explanatory.”

“You’d be surprised, Joey love.”

“Yeah, well, listen, I know you already know about our family.” There was no point in denying our circumstances to this woman. Her son knew all about us. Besides, she had eyes in her head. She could see the marks on my sister. Either way, I was done with the pretenses. I was done with the bullshit. “Your son’s been sniffing around long enough to figure out we’ve got shit to deal with at home, which means you do, too. I just don’t want you to judge my sister based on bullshit that she can’t control. She couldn’t be more different from the rest of our family.”

“You sound like you’re including yourself in that statement.”

“Because I am.” With my skin itching and my body cold to the bone, I forced a nod. “Shannon’s the best person I know.”

“Oh, Joey, love.” Sympathetic brown eyes locked on mine. “Why do I get the feeling that Shannon would say the exact same thing about you?”

Unsettled by the way she looked at me, and with the mother of all headaches attacking my senses, I pinched the bridge of my nose and leaned against the doorframe.

“Are you alright, love?” Concern flashed across her features. “Do you need to sit down?”

“No, no, I’m grand,” I muttered, feeling like I needed to be anywhere but here. The woman was throwing me off kilter, which was an impressive feat considering my life was already on its axis. “Listen, I appreciate the offer of breakfast, but I need to get going.”

“Why don’t you sit down, love, and have a cup of tea first?” she coaxed, as she walked over to the marble island and pulled out a stool for me to sit on. “I’ll drop you back into town myself afterwards.”

I didn’t move.

I couldn’t.

I felt wary and on edge.

This woman?

I didn’t know this woman.

Couldn’t figure out her angle.

“I have places to be.”

“Not on an empty stomach.”

“My girlfriend’s waiting for me.”

“I’m sure she wouldn’t mind you having a bite to eat first.”

“I’m not hungry.”

“Humor me, love.”

Uncomfortable and on edge, I pulled at the sleeves of her son’s hoodie that I was wearing and mentally tried to take her measure. “Fine, I’ll, ah, have a cup of tea… please.”

Her eyes lit up. “Good lad, yourself.”

“And if it’s not too much trouble, could I, ah…well, do you maybe…” Blowing out a breath, I reached up and scratched my jaw before forcing out the words that made me hate myself worse than I already did. “Have anything for pain?”

“For your face, love?”

No, for my heart. “Yeah.” I nodded. “I, ah, I left my meds at home.”

“I’ll poke something out for you from the medicine cupboard,” she replied, moving for a cupboard in the far corner of the kitchen. “Are you allergic to anything?”

“No,” I replied, forcing myself to not move an inch. “I can take anything.”

“Let’s see… there’s some ibuprofen here?”

Fuck.

“Yeah.” Shivering, I released a despondent sigh and nodded wearily. “That’ll be grand, thanks.”

“Oh, hold the phone…” Still rummaging around, she retrieved a white plastic pill tray. “There’s few Solpadol left over from Johnny’s surgery in December.”

Bingo.

A sudden rush of relief washed over me, and I couldn’t stop my feet from moving towards her. “That’s great. That’s what I’m on from the hospital.”

“Here you are, love. I’ll get you a drink.”

“Thanks,” I replied, gratefully accepting the pills she dropped into the palm of my hand before taking the glass of water she offered me.

It wouldn’t do much, but it would take the edge off until I could get sorted.

Get sorted.

What a fucking joke.

You are a joke, asshole.

You’re no better than him.

“So, tell me about this girlfriend of yours.”

“Hm?”

“Your girlfriend.”

I narrowed my eyes, suspicious. “Why?”

“Would you prefer if we talked about how you got those bruises?” came her clipped response. “Because we can go there if you prefer?”

“Her name’s Aoife.” Draining the contents of my glass, I rinsed it out in the sink before placing the glass on the draining board and returning to my perch of hovering awkwardly near what I presumed the back door. “I, ah, work for her father.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah.” I nodded. “He, ah, runs a small mechanics garage in town.”

“Which garage?”

“The Free-Wheeler one at the end of Plunkett’s Road, across the street from Market Place.”

“Is that how you met?”

“No, we’re in the same class at school.”

“High school sweethearts.” She smiled knowingly. “Oh, to be young again.”

“You could say that.”

“Have you been together long?”

“Yeah,” I muttered, feeling completely off balance around this woman. “We have.”

“You don’t give much away, do you, Joey, love?”

“Why would I?” I replied. “I don’t know you.”

She stared at me for a long moment before shaking her head and offering me another warm smile. “You know, love, I’m sure I’ve heard about that garage. I’ll bring the car down the next time it needs a service.”

“Really?” My brows furrowed and the pain in my head slowly dulled. “You don’t have to.”

“I’d like to.” She smiled again. “How long have you worked there?”

“Since I was twelve or thirteen.” Another shrug. “Been on the books since third year.”

“That young?”

“Needed the money.”

“And you like it?” she pressed, still busying herself with prepping food and making tea. “Mechanics? That’s something you might be interested in pursuing after you’re done with school?”

Jesus, what was with this woman and all the questions?

I hadn’t endured this level of interrogation since my last trip in the back of the paddy wagon.

Or maybe since the last time I’d come under fire from Molloy.

Come to think about it, this little woman gave off a similar air of confidence to the once that wafted from my girlfriend in waves.

It was confusing and I didn’t know if I liked it.

“Money’s decent.”

“Well, I think you are a credit to yourself, Joey Lynch.” Somehow, I earned myself another megawatt smile from Mister Rugby’s mother. “Working all those hours after school. And in your leaving cert year. You should be so proud of yourself.”

If she knew me, really knew me, she would quickly change her opinion.

I pinched my temple, fucking aching from head to toe, as I tried to clear my thoughts and focus on this woman. “Why?”

“Why what, love?”

“Nothing.” Fuck, I needed to stop letting her lure me into conversation and get out of there. “Doesn’t even matter.”

“I think it does.” Turning to face me, she gave me her full attention. It was a worrying fucking concept considering I didn’t know her. “Say what you were going to say, love. I’m listening.”

She was.

That was the unsettling part.

She was listening to me.

Fuck.

“I, uh…”

The kitchen door swung inwards then, and my eyes landed on my sister and Kavanagh.

The minute my eyes landed on her face I wanted to die.

I wanted to drown.

I wanted fucking out.

Jesus, the guilt was crippling me.

Feeling useless and unimportant, I willed myself to be a man and stand my ground, to not cower in shame because I’d let this happen to her.

I’d let her down again.

Again.

“Alright, Shan?” My voice was raw and thick with emotion I couldn’t seem to conceal. “How’s it going?” I forced myself to take it all in. Every bruise. Every broken fucking promise on my behalf to protect her. “You okay?”

“Hey, Joe.” Her blue eyes locked on mine, and I could feel the pain emanating from her. With a small smile, she nodded once and tightened her hold on the hand of the boy she was clinging to. And with that small, subtle move, she let me know that this was okay, and that we could trust these people.

She might, but I didn’t.

“Are you?”

“All good,” I managed to croak out, quickly breaking eye contact, feeling too much for the little girl I’d spent my life trying and failing to protect. “Kavanagh,” I acknowledged then, turning my attention to the lad she was welded to. “Thanks again.”

For holding onto her.

For looking after her when I couldn’t.

“Joey.” Steel blue eyes landed on my face. “Anytime.”

I hoped he meant it.

Because as much as I hated myself for thinking it, I knew in my heart that I didn’t have anything left to give her.

I was empty.

I was done.