by Chloe Walsh
"Gibs!" I snapped, impatient.
"Okay!" He held his hands up. "I'm being normal."
"Good." I sighed. "Because I need you to take me somewhere."
"Oh, no, no, no." He sat straight up and pointed at me. "Bedrest, Johnny. For seven to ten days, lad."
"Yeah, and it's been ten days," I shot back.
"Nine days, if we're being technical," he huffed as he stood up and began to pace. "And your mother specifically mentioned ten days bedrest when she called me earlier – not to mention the serious physical pain she would inflict on me if I so much as thought about aiding and abetting you in leaving the house!"
"Well, I need to see her." Shrugging on the loosest pair of sweatpants I owned, I reached for a fresh t-shirt and quickly threw it on. "I can't drive for at least another week, and they took my bleeding car keys, so I need you to take me."
"No can do," Gibs shot back with a firm shake of his head. "Mammy Kavanagh will have my balls and I'll end up sharing a surgeon with you." He shook his head again to emphasize his displeasure. "I love you, buddy, but not that much."
"Come on, Gibs," I snapped, frustrated. "Help me."
"I'm always fucking helping you," he groaned.
"Yeah," I deadpanned. "Because I'm always helping you right back."
"You need to let her family deal with this, lad," he said, tone serious. "I'm not joking around here, Johnny. You need to take a step back here. You told me what they said – how her mother warned you to stay away." He threw his hands up in despair. "So just stay away for a while. They obviously want to handle it themselves. Give her some space, and you'll see her when we go back to school."
"And what if I don't see her?" I demanded. "What if she doesn't come back to Tommen?"
"Of course she'll be back."
"How do you know?"
Gibsie rolled his eyes. "Maybe because she goes to school there!"
Sinking down on the bed, I exhaled a pained breath and tried to wrestle in my emotions before speaking again. "Listen," I began, slightly calmer now. "I'm not asking you to take me to the gym. I'm not going near a bleeding rugby ball, and I'm not asking you to lie for me." Looking him dead in the eyes, I said, "I am asking you to take me to her because I can't fucking get there on my own. And I need to…and she needs me to…" my words broke off and I pinched the bridge of my nose. "If you don’t help me and something happens to her, I swear, I'll never forgive you for it, Gibs." I'll never forgive me.
"That's emotional blackmail."
"That's the only hand I have," I replied steadily.
"She'll kill me," Gibsie pointed out. "You do get that, don’t you? Your mother will murder me."
"I'll take full responsibility," I countered. "Just do this for me, Gibs."
"Fine," he snapped, throwing his hands up. "Call your fucking doctors. Ask them if they're familiar with surgery that involves removal of a woman's high heel from someone's asshole, because that's what's going to happen to me when I take her baby out of this house, Johnny. She is going to hurt me." Groaning, he added, "Tell them to book me a bloody bed. I'm going to need one."
14
Jailbreak
Johnny
"Okay, we need to think this through," Gibsie announced as he pulled onto the main road near my house. "Bring some sort of deflection with us – a carrot to dangle in case they turn us away."
"A carrot?" I turned my head and glared at him. "The fuck are you talking about? We don't need carrots and deflections, Gibs. We're going to drive over to her house, park the car, and knock on the bleeding door."
Gibsie rolled his eyes. "You have no tact. Here, pull my phone out – it's in my pocket."
"I don't need tact," I grumbled, but I did as he asked. He took the phone from my hands and I steered while he dialed. "You'll get points on your license for this," I muttered, grateful to be in control of something for once, even if was only a steering wheel.
Gibsie grinned and pressed the phone to his ear. "Only if I get caught – hey, how's it going, babe? I need you to be outside in five – yeah, five minutes. Why? Because I'm picking you up, that's why. Yeah, don't waste time asking questions. Just put your coat on and meet me at the bottom of your driveway. It's cold outside so wear the red one." He grinned, clearly getting a mouthful down the line before saying, "I know you're at home because I saw you watching me from my bedroom window earlier – yeah, I know you stalk me, too. Yeah, you hate me. I know. I've heard it all before, babe. I love you, too."
"We're bringing Claire?" I asked when he ended the call.
Gibsie nodded. "It makes more sense than two lads showing up on their own." Shrugging, he added, "Shannon's her best friend, lad. She hasn't been able to make contact with her since Dublin. Girl's a nervous wreck over it all."
I shrugged. "Fair enough."
Five minutes later, we pulled onto Hughie and Gibsie's street and were greeted by a scowling Claire, who was standing at the bottom of her driveway, holding a neon pink umbrella to protect herself from the March downpour.
"What's this about, Gerard? What's the big emergency?" she asked, climbing into the back seat when Gibsie pulled up beside her. "Oh, hey Johnny," she added, softening her tone a little. "I hope you're feeling better."
"All good," I replied, feeling uncomfortable knowing that she knew.
"Kav here, has coerced me into driving over to Shannon's house," Gibsie said. "Thought you'd want to come."
"I do." Leaning forward, Claire poked her head out between our seats. "But they won't let you through the front door. I had Hughie drive me over there on Friday to see her, but her mother told me she was in bed." Claire scrunched her nose up as she spoke. "She wouldn't even hear me out, guys. She said Shan was too tired for visitors and just dismissed me."
Fury raced through me.
No goddamn way was I going to be dismissed by that woman or any member of their family.
"Simmer down, Cap," Gibsie instructed calmly. It was only then that I noticed my knuckles had turned white from the force of clenching them. "We'll see her."
"You're damn fucking straight we will."
"I know she lives in Elk Terrace," Gibsie said. "But that's a huge terrace –"
"95 – she lives at 95," Claire and I said in unison.
"Jinx," Claire chuckled.
"You know, Claire-bear, if you want to un-jinx yourself, you can always touch my wood," Gibsie offered.
"No thanks, I don't like wood," Claire shot back. "Or penises."
"I remember," Gibsie chuckled. "Wait – is that the plural for penis? Penises?"
"Probably," Claire replied, placing a hand on his shoulder. "I mean, plural for vagina is vaginas, so it sort of has to be, doesn't it?"
"I thought the plural for vagina was vaginae," he offered, and then after a thoughtful pause, added, "You know what, I think plural for penis is penii."
"Oh my god, Gerard, literally nobody says penii or vaginae," Claire scoffed. "It's penises and vaginas."
"Hmm," he mused. "Sounds weird, though."
"When it comes to human genitalia, I think it all sounds a little weird, Gerard."
I zoned out of their conversation, too concerned about Shannon to entertain either of them. Instead, I cranked the stereo and drowned my thoughts out with one of Gibsie's eclectic mix CDs. I kept my eyes trained on the windscreen, not blinking and barely breathing until we ascended the huge hill and pulled onto her street.
"Shit," Gibsie muttered when we pulled up outside her run-down house in Elk's Terrace. "Bad luck, huh?"
"Yeah, lad," I muttered. "You have no idea."
"Turn down the music, Gerard," Claire scolded when Gibsie pulled up outside the house.
"What's wrong with my music?" Gibsie asked, looking comically wounded.
"Knockin' On Heaven's Door?" Glaring, Claire slapped his shoulder. "Really? After what just happened to her?" Leaning between the seats, she switched off the stereo. "That's so insensitive."
"But…but she's not here?" Killing the engine, Gibsie turne
d to look at her. Confusion was etched on his face when he said, "And it's Guns N' Roses."
"It's a bad song choice."
"Hang on, what about this one –" His words trailed off as he switched the stereo back on and flicked to track 7. The guitar rift of Thin Lizzy's Jailbreak blasted from the speakers. "Better?" Gibsie asked, waggling his brows. "More suited for the occasion, sweet-pea?"
"Much," Claire replied, tone approving. "Good job, snuffle-bunny."
"Thanks, babe."
"You're both bleeding ridiculous." Shaking my head, I shoved the car door open and used my crutches to pull myself out. "This is serious."
"I know, lad," Gibsie replied, joining me on the footpath. "I know."
"So, what's the plan?" Claire asked, climbing out after us. "Do we just…" She shrugged helplessly. "Go in there?"
"Well, I'm going in there," I told her. Not waiting for either of them to respond, I rounded the wall that separated the overgrown garden from the footpath and hopped awkwardly to the door. Tension was emanating from my body in waves as I slipped my hand out of one of my crutches and rapped my knuckles against the door.
"Keep the head, Cap," Gibsie instructed quietly in my ear. Reaching around him, he caught ahold of Claire and shoved her in front of both of us. "Smile, Claire-Bear," he coaxed, keeping his hand on her hip. "No one could say no to the sun."
Finally, after what felt like an age, the front door swung inwards and we were greeted by what I could only describe as the male version of Shannon. Dark brown hair, piercing midnight-blue eyes full of secrets. "Yes?" he asked politely. "Can I help you?"
"Who are you?" I decided to come right out and ask. I already knew this was Darren, but I wanted him to confirm it.
"You're at my door," the man replied. "Who are you?"
Fighting down the urge to reach over and drag him out of my way, I asked, "Is Shannon here?"
Darren leaned against the doorframe and folded his arms across his chest. "Who wants to know?"
"Me."
He arched a brow. "And who is me?"
"I'm her –"
"He's her Johnny," Claire blurted out.
"Nice," Gibsie chuckled, tucking her under his arm. "And since we're making introductions, she's my Claire-Bear and I'm his Flanker."
"I remember you," Darren said, giving Claire a curious look. "You've grown up."
"Look, is Shannon here or not?" I snapped, clinging to my patience by the skin of my teeth. "I need to see her."
"No."
Goddammit! "Well, can you tell me when she'll be back?" I bit out through clenched teeth. "So I know how long I'll be waiting in my car." Because I'm not going anywhere, fucker.
"No."
Furious, I leaned on my crutch and hissed, "Where is she, Darren?"
He shook his head and reached for the door. "Go home, Johnny."
"Don't do it, Cap," Gibsie warned, placing his hand on my shoulder. "Don’t fucking bulldoze."
I heard him. I did. But I couldn’t see beyond the red-hazed fog in my mind, smothering me, making it hard to think clearly.
"Nope," I growled, shaking off his hand. "I'm not going anywhere." I shoved a crutch in the doorway to block Darren from slamming the door in my face. "I know all about your family." I glared behind him. "About the shite that goes on in this house, and if you think I'm walking away without seeing her, then you have another thing coming!"
"You don't have a clue," he growled. "You think you do, but you have no goddamn idea!"
"Johnny, maybe we should just go –"
"I'm going nowhere!" I roared, feeling furious and sore from standing. "I'll stand right fucking here until he either lets me in or brings her down!" Straightening, I looked him dead in the eyes and said, "You decide. I'm good with either."
"Do you have any idea of what my family is dealing with here?" he demanded then, his cool façade slipping. "What we're all going through right now? Trying to work through?" He glared at me before continuing, "I am holding my family together by the skin of my teeth here, kid. I spent the best part of a week at my sister's hospital bedside, trying to manage the shitstorm that I've walked back in to. My family has enough problems right now, issues more complicated than you could ever understand, so I need you to back the fuck up and give us some breathing space."
"I'll give you all the space you need," I shot back hotly. "After I see Shannon."
"The last thing Shannon needs is you rolling up and confusing her," he snapped. "She's been through hell. She needs rest and peace. I'm trying to give her that. I'm trying to make her life better, and you storming in and bombarding her with questions is only going to traumatize her even further."
"Then Shannon can tell me that herself," I countered, unwilling to give an inch. "To my face."
Darren shook his head. "Jesus Christ, Johnny, my mother already explained this to you. I spoke to your father and explained this to him. What aren't you getting here? Why can't you understand that what's happening in our family is private and we need time to process everything?"
"What are you so afraid of?" I taunted. "That she'll talk to me? Confide in me? Tell me all the shite she should be telling the authorities but isn't because you're keeping her locked up like a fucking prisoner?" I looked him up and down and sneered, "Yeah, I know there's more. I know that fucking much. And I also know that you might be able to control her, but you can't control me, and I have no problem with blowing the roof off your dirty little secrets. And here's another thing you can't do." I straightened my spine. "You can't make me leave."
"You need to calm down," he instructed. "Stop puffing your chest out and looking for a fight, Johnny. My sister's fine and you need to leave."
"She was neglected and abused in her own home. She was tortured outside of it. It's a fucking miracle she's still standing. So no, I won't fucking calm down!" I snarled. "I want to see her and I'm not going until I do."
"If you don't leave, I'll phone the Gardaí," he replied. "I don't want to, but I will if you don't go."
"Then go for it, because I'm not going anywhere, asshole!" I roared, losing all touch with my self-control. "Go right ahead and call the fucking Gards, because quite frankly, I'd love to speak to them."
"Oh Jesus, his mother's going to kill me," Gibsie groaned. "It's bad enough that I took him out behind her back, but now he's going to be arrested, and then I'll be arrested because I'm a good friend and it's just bad form to let him go to prison on his own, but she won't see it that way. No, she'll see her baby in a cell and I'll be the dead, ball-less eejit beside him. Ugh!"
"Shut up, Gibs!" I barked.
"Stop the world," Gibsie groaned. "I want to get off."
"Gerard, calm down. Nobody is going to prison. Johnny –" Claire placed a hand on my arm, "Come on. Let's just go."
"I'm going nowhere," I hissed for the fiftieth fucking time, keeping my eyes locked on Darren. "Not until I see her."
"See?" Gibsie croaked out. "You heard him. He's going nowhere, and I'm going to heaven."
"What are you hiding?" I asked, narrowing my eyes.
"Nothing."
"Then why can't she see me?" I demanded. "Why can't I see her? What is your fucking problem with me –"
My words broke off when a small figure darted out from under Darren's arm and sprang towards me. My brain barely had the chance to process that the figure I was seeing was Shannon before she lunged at me, wrapping her arms around my neck and causing me to stagger back a step.
"Hi, Johnny," she whispered, tumbling off the door step as she clung to me. "You came back."
"Hi, Shannon." My crutches fell to the ground as I wrapped my arms around her body, holding her in place. "I promised I would," I replied, keeping my eyes narrowed and locked on her brother.
15
Beautiful Boys and Broken Brothers
Shannon
At first, I ignored the angry voices penetrating the quiet bubble of my bedroom, presuming Darren and Tadhg were going head to head again downstairs, bu
t then I remembered Tadhg and Ollie were at a birthday party. Sean was with Nanny, Joey was AWOL, and Mam was at work. That left Darren and…
Dad?
My breath hitched in my throat and I dropped the pen I had been using to scribble revision notes into my copybook with.
For a moment, I just sat there on my bed and held my breath, waiting for my bedroom door to fly inward and my father to appear. When it didn't happen, my anxiety lowered to the point where moving my limbs was possible again.
Unnerved, I climbed out of bed and walked over to my window to investigate. Pushing it open, I leaned out, rested my elbows on the sill, and searched for trouble.
The sight of the familiar silver Ford Focus parked outside my house caused my heart to thud rapidly.
I knew that car.
It belonged to Gerard Gibson.
And wherever Gibsie was…
"Then go for it, because I'm not going anywhere, asshole!" an achingly familiar voice with a thick Dublin accent boomed. "Go right ahead and call the fucking Gards, because quite frankly, I'd love to speak to them."
Johnny.
Because of the veranda under my window blocking my view of the front door, I couldn't see him, but I could hear him, and oh god, my heart thundered violently at the sound of his voice.
For a long moment I stood there, in a state of shock, absorbing his voice and the realization that he was actually here before my brain kicked into gear and my legs started to move.
Every inch of my body was aching, and the bruising on my face was darker now, more purple and prominent, but I didn't care. I pushed past my pain, forced down my insecurities, and got dressed in record time. The jeans I threw on were loose and needed the support of a belt, but I knew I wouldn't find one in my wardrobe, so I used my hair tie to hold them up. Slipping my feet into my runners, I grabbed one of Joey's hoodies off the back of my door before hurrying into the landing.
Feeling skittish, I clutched the bannister and half-stumbled down the stairs in my haste to get to him. When I reached the bottom step, I had to stop for a moment and catch my breath; my lungs protesting against the sudden movement.
