by Chloe Walsh
Not when I already knew.
Too well.
"I won't go, Gerard," I whispered, shuffling closer until our knees were touching. Reaching out, I cupped his soft cheek in my hand. "I won't ever leave you."
Exhaling a shaky breath, he leaned in close, noses brushing, and whispered, "I'm going to hold you to that, Claire-bear."
And then Gerard Gibson kissed my lips for the very first time.
Find Gibsie and Claire in the
Boys of Tommen series,
available now.
5
Wednesday
Ballylaggin, Cork
Lizzie Young
Shaking my head, I gripped the sink, holding onto the last scrap of my sanity with all of my might.
Twitching violently when the memory of her lifeless corpse flashed through my mind, I shook my head and slapped my face.
"Block it out," I strangled out, unable to look at my own fucking reflection.
I couldn't look at me without seeing her and I couldn’t think of her without remembering them.
"Fuck!" Gasping for air, I tightened my grip on the porcelain sink, and prayed the pressure would snap my fingernails off.
I needed it to stop.
I needed it all to be not here anymore.
Not in my head.
Not in my body.
Or my thoughts.
I just needed silence.
Grabbing the scissors off the sink, I yanked them open and put the blade to my flesh. Slowly at first; soft, light strokes of shallow splicing over my thigh until I grew braver, stronger, calmer, more in control of my own thoughts.
Furious, I thought of them all, each and every son of a bitch who'd ever put a foot wrong in my life. In my world right now, and the frame of mind I was currently residing in, these people were actually capable of feeling guilt.
It was almost as if every stroke of the blade across my flesh was a punishment for their actions.
I was making them pay.
It was a maddening notion.
It was fucking revelry.
Shuddering in the sudden and explosive overload of endorphins, I felt my body grow light.
Collapsing on the bathroom floor, I closed my eyes, feeling my damp lashes clot together, as my blood-soaked fingers continued to carve my flesh at a frantic pace.
The crazy thoughts and feelings whizzing inside of my mind dimmed and lulled, replaced now with warning signals of pain.
That was okay.
Physical pain, I could handle.
It was less confusing.
When blood spilled from my body, I could see the source of the problem – the root of the cause. When blood spilled from my mind, it was a gaping wound – a terminal abyss of mental torture that I couldn’t heal.
Can't fix what you can't see.
"I fucking can!"
Lightheaded and trembling, I let myself in through the back door they never thought to lock. Cold to the bone and shaking like an ivy leaf, I moved through the darkness, knowing the layout of this house better than my own.
I'd spent enough time here, after all.
Soaked to the skin, raindrops trickled from my bare arms, landing on the plush carpet. Every stitch of clothing I had on was soaked right through, but still, I couldn’t feel a thing. Not the stinging bite of the night air, or the razor prick of the icy rainwater on my torn flesh.
Toeing off my shoes at the bottom of the staircase, I tip-toed up each step, avoiding the creaky boards until I was standing on the landing.
The bedroom I would usually escape inside was right in front of me.
It wasn’t the bedroom I was going to choose.
Not tonight.
My tears were free-falling now, and I fucking hated myself for it.
Teeth chattering, I moved for the forbidden door, not bothering to knock.
If I stopped now, I would second guess myself. I would think too much. I couldn't do that.
Not tonight.
Dragging in a shuddering breath, I steeled my spine and pushed the door inwards.
When I slipped inside, I was greeted with darkness and the universal smell of teenage boy. The moonlight shining through his open window illuminated his sleeping frame beneath the sheets, slumped face down on the mattress.
His blond hair was ruffled, no doubt by her fingers, and his lips were puffy and slightly swollen as he nuzzled his pillow.
"C-can we talk?"
Nothing.
Sniffling, I raised my hands to my face and roughly wiped the tears from my eyes, smearing mascara across my cheeks. "Please… just w-wake up."
"Fuck off, Claire," he mumbled sleepily into his pillow. "It's the middle of the night."
"I'm not C-Claire."
"I said fuck off, Claire…" Wincing, his eyes flickered open. Confusion filled his brown eyes for the briefest moment before they softened. "Liz?"
Holding my breath, I locked eyes on him and nodded, trying to hold my breath to keep my sobs at bay.
Slowly sitting up, he scratched his bare chest and glanced around the room before settling his sleepy gaze on me, blond hair mussed up in a million different directions. "Are you…okay?" he asked, flicking on the lamp on his nightstand.
"No," I half hiccupped/ half sobbed, hands hanging limply at my sides as I stood in his bedroom at three in the morning. "I'm really not."
"Do you…want to talk about it?" The concern in his eyes deepened. "Or I can get Claire?"
Sniffling, I shook my head.
He frowned. "Should I call your parents?"
Another sob escaped me. "No."
Something flashed in his eyes then, something I couldn’t decipher, and then he was pushing the covers aside and patting the mattress. "Come here."
I didn’t.
I couldn’t.
So, instead, I said the only thing I could say – could feel – in this moment, "I d-don’t want to be h-here anymore."
Hughie Biggs
When I saw her standing in my bedroom tonight, dressed in nothing but her pajamas and soaked to the skin, I felt like someone had shoved their hand through my chest and ripped my heart clean out of my body.
Lizzie Young.
My sister's best friend.
The so-called viper in the flesh.
The broken girl…
She was bleeding all over my bedroom floor, her emotional scars far deeper than the ones I knew she secretly carved into her body, and I couldn’t handle the pain that came with knowing that it had happened again.
"Tell me you didn’t!" I demanded, not waiting for her to answer before throwing the covers off and stalking towards her.
I knew she had.
I fucking knew it, and when I pulled at her clothes, exposing her milky skin, not giving two shits if I upset her, I released a pained groan when my eyes found what my heart knew she was hiding.
"Why the fuck, Liz –" My voice cracked and I had to drag in several steadying breaths before I could continue. "Where's Pierce?" I demanded, keeping my hands clamped firmly around her arms. "Liz?"
"It's, uh…" Sniffling, she held herself poker stiff, unwilling and unable to accept any kind of human affection. "It's over. He's, uh, done…with me."
Fucking Pierce.
"He's a wanker," I spat, fucking furious with my teammate for leaving his girl in this condition.
He could pretend he didn’t know about what she did until the cows came home, but he saw this girl naked. He knew what was hiding beneath her clothes just as much as I did. His river of denial didn’t float with me. If he cared about her at all, he would do something. Anything, dammit!
"I need to get my mam," I told her, keeping a firm grip on her body, knowing she was a flight risk. "You've cut yourself deep this time, Liz. I think you might need stitches –"
"No!" she strangled out, reaching up to grab my forearms. "Hughie, don’t tell." Tears fell freely down her face as she trembled violently. "Please…please don’t do that to me."
Pain.
I felt it everywhere.
Her words cut me deep and fuck if I wanted to betray her.
I just wanted to keep her alive, dammit.
"Fuck, Liz…" I was not emotionally equipped to deal with her breakdown – no matter how badly I wanted to save her from the demons in her mind. "I can't –" Shaking my head, I fought with my heart. "I can't help you if I don’t tell –"
"You know where my mam and dad will send me if they find out I'm cutting again," she choked out. "I'm not fucking crazy, Hughie!"
No, you're just a lot broken, I thought to myself.
"I don’t want to go back there," she cried, tension dissipating from her shoulders and she sagged weakly against my chest. "I'm just sad." Sob after heart wrenching sob escaped her. "I'm allowed to be sad."
Yeah, she was, and I couldn’t turn it around for her.
I couldn’t change the past.
I couldn’t bring her sister back or erase the circumstances surrounding her death.
All I could do in this moment was be a part of her breakdown.
"I know," I whispered, wrapping her up in my arms so tightly I had a feeling I was cutting off her air supply.
I knew this was wrong. I knew she had no business being in my bedroom late at night, and I certainly had no business letting her cry on my shoulder when I had a long-term girlfriend. But I couldn’t fucking help it, because long before Katie and every other girl that had crossed my path, there had been Lizzie.
She was the first girl I ever kissed, the first girl I ever crushed on, and I had crushed on her real fucking hard.
The lads didn’t understand her, nobody got her, not even her parents, but I did.
I saw her, the real her, underneath all of that anger, and I wanted so badly to bring her back to life.
Before all of the bullshit and drama and growing pains, before she went dark, we had a friendship.
A real, honest to god friendship, and no matter how hard I tried, I could never forget the smiling little girl she used to be.
I wanted to save that little girl.
I wanted to protect her from the pain and the poison that flushed through her mind.
It was with these thoughts rushing wildly through my mind that I made my next decision.
Keeping my arms wrapped around her body, and without a single word spoken, I walked us over to my bed and pulled back the covers.
I didn’t ask her permission when I sat down and pulled her onto my lap, and she didn’t make any move to resist.
On the contrary, she shifted closer until our chests were flush together, her arms and legs wrapped tightly around my neck and lower back.
Fuck, she was trembling all over, teeth chattering violently, as her heart raced wildly against her ribcage.
Keeping an arm hooked around her lower back, I reached over and flicked off my lamp, cloaking us in darkness. "You're going to stay here tonight. Don’t fight me on this."
She didn’t protest.
She didn’t fight back.
There were no stinging remarks or stubborn retorts.
She was cracked open for only me to see; oozing her heartache and pain all over my bedsheets – and my life.
Scrambling onto the far side of the mattress, she lay on her side, hands tucked beneath her head, and watched me.
Mirroring her actions, I rolled onto my side and stared back at her.
My mind continued to remind me that having this girl too close to me was a terrible fucking idea, but leaving her alone was an even worse one.
"S-sorry," she finally broke the silence by saying – more like chattering as she continued to jerk and tremble violently.
Concern roared to life inside of me, and I quickly pulled the duvet up to her shoulder. "It's okay." It wasn’t, we both knew it, but there was nothing else to say.
Unable to stop myself, I reached up and wiped a rogue tear from her cheek, my pathetic attempt at comforting the broken girl in my bed.
The girl who isn’t your girlfriend, eejit…
The moment my thumb made contact with her cheek, a deep shudder rolled through her. "No," she croaked out when I moved to pull my hand away. "No," she repeated, snatching up my hand and pressing it to her cheek. "Don’t go."
Fuck.
Fuck, she was close.
Her lips were way too close.
Exhaling heavily, I allowed my fingers to curl around her tear stained cheek, my thumb moving in lazy circles against her soft skin. "I won't."
The way this girl clung to me was humbling. She was a strong person. She didn’t rely or depend on anyone, but she was leaning on me now, seeking something from me that I wasn't sure was there to give.
"I miss her, Hugh." Her voice was raspy and torn; her words a pained admission. "So bad." Clenching her eyes shut, she kept my hand covered with her small one, while using her free hand to clutch my forearm. "It hurts."
"Liz…" Blowing out a pained breath, I pulled her closer, wanting to heal her and keep her and not fuck everything up all in one breath. "I don’t know what to do here… I don’t know how to help you."
"You already are." Her breath fanned my face, as she looked into my eyes with a sadness that was sobering. "Please don’t ever stop not hating me."
"Stop not hating you?" I replied, forcing myself not to lean into her touch when her nose brushed mine. Keeping perfectly still, I whispered, "I've never hated you, Lizzie, and I never will."
"Yeah, you will," she replied, tone laced with sadness, her lips a hare's breath from mine. "Because that's what I do, Hughie. I drive people away. I make people hate me –" Her voice cracked and a sob tore from deep inside of her. "In the end, that's exactly what I'll do to you."
"Don’t count on it."
Silence enveloped us then, with only the sound of our breathing filling the air, as we lay on our sides, eyes locked on each other, limbs tangled up.
"Hughie?"
"Yeah, Liz?"
"Don’t hate me for this, okay?"
"For what –"
She kissed me.
She leaned forward and pressed her lips to mine.
And my heart almost leapt clean out of my chest.
Well shit.
What the fuck?
Don’t kiss her back, eejit.
Don’t do it.
It doesn’t matter how good her lips feel, she's not in her full senses right now, and you have a girlfriend.
"Don’t," I warned, but didn’t pull back or let go of her, "You'll regret doing that in the morning."
"Will you?" she whispered, lips brushing against mine as she spoke. "Regret me?"
Yes!
No?
Maybe…
"I don’t know," I confessed, feeling my heart hammer at the rate of a hundred miles an hour. "I, ah… We really probably shouldn’t? I… fuck, I have Katie, and I don’t want to take advan –"
Lizzie kissed me again, deeper this time.
Her full lips closed over mine and I was disgusted to admit that I lost my head in those lips.
Losing all contact with my moral compass, I closed my eyes and allowed my lips to meld with hers.
You're a piece of shit, my conscience sneered, but I blocked it out. I ignored the wave of self-loathing washing through me and fell into the kiss, my tongue snaking between her parted lips to duel with hers.
"Fuck," I groaned, pulling her on top of me.
"Don’t stop," she begged, straddling my hips as our lips attacked the others almost desperately.
My heart thundered violently in my chest.
My dick strained against the fabric of my jocks.
I couldn’t fucking see straight, let alone think about the repercussions of my actions when Lizzie stripped her t-shirt and bra off.
Her full breasts fell free, rubbing against my naked chest, and I groaned in approval, drowning in the fantastic fucking feelings and sensations she was evoking from my body.
Breathing hard and fast, I didn’t dare think too much about wh
at I was doing as I helped her out of her shorts and thong.
She pulled on the hem of my jocks, and I quickly lifted my hips off the mattress to accommodate her.
She was soft and fractured and completely naked above me. Her kisses were hot, her body hotter, as she slowly lowered herself onto my dick.
"This is so fucking wrong," I tried to protest before throwing myself into a kiss with her. Groaning against her lips, I slowly fed my dick inside her, inch by inch, until I was sheathed in her slick heat.
"Make me feel something," she cried out, rocking her hips and pushing herself down on my dick. "I just want to feel, Hugh."
"Fuck, Liz –" her lips came crashing down on mine once more and I was lost.
Giving myself up to the madness and the fact that I was a terrible fucking person.
With my hands pinned to the mattress beneath hers, I absorbed the sight of her naked body grinding on top of mine, eyes locked on where we were joined.
I couldn’t take my eyes off the way I slid in and out of her. Watching her fuck me like this, seeing my dick sliding into her tight pussy, her pulling back and giving me a perfect view, before slamming back down on my cock was so fucking sexy.
I couldn’t breathe.
My heart felt like it was bursting.
You're the worst piece of shit on the planet, Hughie Biggs.
Shut the fuck up, eejit, and enjoy this! You know how you feel about her.
Yeah, I did know how I felt about her, and it scared the shit out of me. "Lizzie, I –"
"Don’t say it –" Clamping a hand over my mouth, she continued to ride me relentlessly, hips bucking wildly, driving me closer to the edge, until I went crashing and came hard.
"Fuck," she cried out, pulsing hard around me as I came deep inside of her tight channel.
"Fuck," I agreed, breathing hard and fast, as she collapsed in a sticky heap on top of my chest.
She made no move to climb off me, and I couldn’t move if I tried.
Jesus Christ.
Only when she was sleeping next to me, several hours later, did reality come slamming down on me.
Fuck, what had I done?
Lizzie Young
