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Redeeming 6: Part 9 – Chapter 96

YOU CALL AND I COME RUNNING

JOEY

ALLERGIC.

It was the only word to describe how I was feeling when I walked through the front doors of BCS on Monday morning.

An epic showdown between Mam and Shannon over Kavanagh picking her up for school, followed by a shit-show of a shouting match between myself and Darren was the reason I was late. When I walked into class, ten minutes after the bell, and my eyes landed on Molloy sitting at our desk, I felt every muscle in my body coil tight in dreaded anticipation.

Would today be the day she had enough?

Would today be the day she finally told me to go fuck myself?

Because, let’s face it, we both knew I was on borrowed time with her. Being with her on Saturday night had done something to me, though. It had sparked a fire inside of me that resulted in my holding out yesterday. Somehow, and I wasn’t too fucking sure how, I had managed to steer clear of Shane and survive on a couple of joints.

My head was in bits and my body was in worse shape, but I could see clearly, and I was thinking a little more rationally.

It was nothing to sing home about, but it was a start.

I had to start somewhere.

And that girl was my everywhere.

“Time management, Joseph,” Miss Lane snapped, giving me the evil-eyed glare that she reserved especially for me, as I waited for her to fill in my red book. “Last warning.”

Like I gave a fuck.

I was here for two reasons.

The blonde at my desk and the baby in her belly.

Ignoring Podge and Alec who were trying to grab my attention, I moved straight for my desk, not stopping until I was in the seat next to hers with our knees brushing. “Molloy.”

“Joe,” she replied, keeping her gaze trained on the copybook laying open on the desk in front of her.

Without a word, I retrieved the earphone waiting for me and popped it in.

Tracy Chapman’s Fast Car filled my ears and fuck if it didn’t pour salt in my already gaping wounds. Like always, she reached under the desk and took my hand in hers, but when I entwined our fingers and squeezed back, she turned in surprise to look at me. “Hey, stud.”

“Hey, queen.”

“Nice shirt.”

“Nice legs.”

Her eyes widened in surprise.

I winked.

“You’re…” she whispered, studying me with wary eyes, “You?”

“No.” Resisting the urge to bow my head in shame, I held my ground and forced myself to keep eye contact. “But I’m…trying.”

To give this girl what she needed.

What she deserved.

It was too much – her, the moment, my feelings, the way my heart beat for her– it was all too fucking much. And still, I remained completely motionless, letting her take her fill.

“Joe.” Her fingers tightened around mine. Joe.”

“Just have to get through one hour at a time, right?”

With tear-filled eyes, she nodded rapidly and choked out a pained smile. “Right.”


Struggling to concentrate on a word of what was being said around me at lunch, I shivered in my seat as the most horrendous cold sweat bled through my skin.

The lads were talking about hurling, the girls were chatting about babies, and I was fucking drowning in the horrors of withdrawal.

“I need something,” I admitted, turning in my seat to face the only reason I had to not throw the towel in and be done with the pain. “I need something, Molloy.”

“Jesus, Joe, you’re burning the hell up,” Molloy replied, reaching up to wipe a bead of sweat from my brow. “Are you—”

“No, I’m freezing,” I assured her, snatching her small hand up in both of mine. “But I need something or I’m going to be sick.”

Panic filled her eyes. “You can’t.”

“I have to.”

“No.” She shook her head. “One hour at a time, remember? You’ve got another hour in you, Joe.”

“I’m dying here,” I admitted, shifting closer so that only she could hear me. “Help me.”

“I can’t,” she choked out, tightening her hold on my hand. “You can do this, Joe. I know you can. You’ve done it before. Just let the poison seep out of your system, baby, and you’ll feel so much better.”

“I’m telling you that I’m going to fucking die if I don’t get something,” I strangled out. “I can feel it.” I blew out a strained breath. “My heart’s going to burst in my chest.”

“Then we’ll leave,” she tried to soothe. “We’ll go home.”

“If I get off this chair, it’s not home I’m heading to,” I forced myself to be honest and tell her. “I’m so fucking sorry.”

“No, no, no,” she replied. “Don’t be sorry because you’re still hanging in there.”

I wasn’t.

I was seconds away from peeling the skin off my bones.

The urge was too fierce.

The need was too strong.

The hunger was too consuming.

“I can’t do this, Molloy.”

“Yes, you can.”

“No, I really can’t.”

“A smoke will take the edge off, lad,” Alec interjected in a rarely tender tone of voice, as he placed a hand on my shoulder. “Say the word and I’ll get you sorted.”

Molloy’s eyes flicked to me and after a moment of hesitation, she reluctantly nodded. “Help him.”

I was out of my chair and moving in an instant, unraveling faster than I ever had before, as the cravings tormenting my body caused my stomach to roll and protest.

“That’s it, lad,” Al coaxed when we reached the back of the PE hall, and I unceremoniously puked my guts up. “You get that shit up and I’ll spark us up some grade a weed, my friend.”

“Fuck my life,” I groaned between wretches, as I hemorrhaged bile and poison.

It physically hurt to breathe.

Every time my heart pumped, the blood rushing through my veins burned and scalded me.

“I’m dying.”

“You’re not dying. You just can’t go cold turkey on this,” my friend coaxed, placing a neatly rolled joint between my fingers. “Take a hit, lad. It’ll help with the sickness.”

Shaking violently, I took a deep drag, filling my lungs to the point of pain, and then I held it there until dizziness engulfed me.

“That’s it,” Alec said, giving my shoulder a supportive squeeze. “Sit your ass down, lad, and just soak it in.”

Trembling, I managed to sink down on the footpath at the back of the hall and take another hit. “Fuck,” I said, slowly exhaling a cloud of smoke.

“You know I’m the last person to judge you, because God knows I’m a fair bit of a fuck-up in my own right,” he said, lowering himself down to sit beside me. “But you need help, Joe.”

“Al, please, lad, I can’t hear this right now.”

“You’re going to have to, Joe. You’ve got a girl in there and a baby on the way, and I would be a piss-poor friend if I didn’t step in and at least try to talk some sense into you,” he continued. “The shit you’ve been messing around with. Heroin? People don’t just stop cold turkey. If they could, then there wouldn’t be any need for methadone clinics and rehabilitation facilities. It’s serious, lad. And you don’t just walk away from people like Holland, either. You know this.”

“I don’t know what to do,” I admitted, feeling broken. “I know she needs me.”

“She’s still here, man,” he offered, nudging my shoulder with his. “She’s still holding out for you, which means there’s still hope. You’ve got a little family waiting on you to get better. You can get better, Joe, but you need to want it, lad. You need to fight.”

“I just…I don’t know if I have another fight in me,” I admitted quietly. “I’m so tired, Al. In the head. My mind is fucking weary.”

“Hey, stud.” Molloy’s familiar voice drifted through the air, causing everything inside of me to spring to attention. Appearing from the side of the PE hall, she sat on the wall opposite me, keeping her distance from the smoke. “Feeling better?”

Disgusted with myself for becoming this decrepit creature, I forced a small nod, while buckling under the weight of my shame.

“He’ll be grand,” Al was quick to interject in his usual jokester tone. “Lynchy here just needs to get back to basics.”

My phone decided to torment me in this moment by ringing loudly in my pocket.

Taking another deep drag of my smoke, I passed it to Alec and reached for my phone.

Concern roared to life inside of me when I saw my sister’s name flashing on the screen.

Her calls had come less frequent since the arrival of Mister Rugby, and she never called during school hours anymore.

The fact that she was calling me now assured me that something was very wrong.

“Shan?” I demanded, putting the phone to my ear. “What’s going on?”

“Joey,” she cried down the line. I could hardly make out her voice from the sheer height of crying. Instantly, my back was up and the blood in my veins had turned to lava. “I n-need you to come g-get me.”


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