DECEMBER 11TH 2004
JOEY
IT WAS GONE nine the following morning before was I released from the Garda station, making last night one of my longest stints in the cells. A stark preview of what would happen once I turned eighteen at the end of this month.
No more chances, Lynch.
This is your last warning.
Beyond exhausted, I stretched out my stiff limbs and stepped through the station doorway, only to halt at the top of the stone steps when my eyes landed on a familiar blonde, curled up under a coat, fast asleep.
“Molloy?” Concern filled me. “Did you stay here all night?”
Blinking awake, she looked around sleepily before her eyes settled on my face.
“Joe.” Relief flashed across her face as she sprang up from the step and bolted towards me. “Oh, thank god!” Throwing her arms around me, she squeezed me tight, and then pulled back to slap my chest. “You have some serious explaining to do.”
“You’re one to talk,” I growled, holding her shoulders so that I could get a proper look at her face. “What the hell were you thinking staying out here all night, Molloy? It’s the middle of winter?”
“They wouldn’t let me talk to you,” she snapped back. “And I wasn’t going anywhere until I did.” Releasing another ragged breath, she pulled me in for another hug. “What happened? What did they say? Were you charged with anything?”
“Everything’s fine.” Slinging an arm over her shoulders, I led her away from the station, needing to put some space between this girl and my mistakes. “Stop worrying.”
“Stop worrying? I’ve been more than just worrying, Joe. God, I feel like I haven’t been able to breathe again until just now.” With her arm around my waist, she slipped her hand into the ass pocket of my jeans and leaned into my side. “What happened?”
I thought about feeding her the same bullshit I’d given to the Gards, but I had too much respect for this girl, and had too many feelings involved, to give her anything other than the truth.
“He walked out on Mam a couple of weeks ago for some barmaid from town that she caught him messing around with,” I heard myself explain, unnerved by just how easy it was to be truthful with her.
It didn’t happen often.
Shit, it never happened.
Not with anyone else.
Just her.
Only ever her.
“Mam was a mess when he left and took to the bed.” I grimaced at the memory of trying to spoon-feed the woman a cup of crappy instant soup. “That was the family shit I told you that I was dealing with.” Shrugging, I added, “I couldn’t leave Sean on his own with her. Not when I couldn’t be sure that she would feed him. So, I took a few days off to hold the fort at home, while my mam processed whatever the hell it was that she needed to process.”
“And last night?”
“Last night, he decided he had enough of his barmaid and came back, laying down the law and stinking of whiskey.” I stiffened at the memory of him sauntering through the front door like he was God’s fucking gift. “And it got messy.”
“How messy?”
Messy enough that when Mam, who had only managed to drag herself out of the bed and put herself back together that day, made the near-fatal mistake of telling him to turn around and leave.
“He beat my mother,” I heard myself growl. “So, I beat him.”
“He beat your mam?”
“Yeah.” I nodded stiffly. “And the bastard’s always been smart enough to hurt her where nobody will see the marks.”
“Jesus, Joe…”
“I didn’t even know he’d come back. I was upstairs in my room when I heard her screaming my name, so I came running. I was half-way down the staircase when I saw him slap my sister across the face for trying to pull him off our mother. You’ve seen how small she is. Shan went down like a sack of spuds. So, I lost my head, went for him…” Shrugging, I added, “and here we are.”
“Here we are,” she repeated sadly. “Your poor face…”
“I didn’t come out the worst,” I was quick to assure her. It was the one part of the whole damn mess that had kept me warm last night. I’d gotten the better of him, finally, after almost eighteen years of taking his shit, he had to be protected from me.
He was a lucky man that the neighbors called the Gards over the commotion, because if they hadn’t arrived and dragged me off him, I would have been facing murder charges.
Molloy sucked in a sharp breath. “So, what did the Gards say?”
“It was just the usual slap on the wrist and a warning. They called in an emergency social worker and the youth liaison officer. You know, the usual bullshit.”
“What does that mean?” Concern filled her eyes. “Are they…are you being taken away?”
“No, no, it’s grand,” I assured her. “I’m used to social workers coming around. I’ll handle it.”
“Well, I hope you told them everything, Joe,” she growled. “Because this can’t happen again.”
When I didn’t answer her, because I couldn’t give her the answer she wanted, she lost it.
“Oh, my fucking god!” she screamed, pushing my chest before jerking away from me. “Why didn’t you tell them the truth?”
Because I can’t!
“It’s not your business, Molloy.”
“You’re my business!”
“It’s okay,” I attempted to calm her by saying. “It’s going to be fine. They’ll write up the usual reports, send the usual people around for a home check and Mam will feed them the usual drivel. Then in a few weeks, it will be all brushed under the table.”
“How?”
Confused, I looked at her and asked, “How what?”
“How can this be brushed under the table?” Her green eyes blazed with fury. “He beat you, Joey. You’re his son and he broke your damn nose! He hit your mam. He slapped your sister. And Tadhg!” She choked out a sob. “He hurt him not too long ago. That’s not normal, okay? Contrary to whatever bull-crap your parents have fed you, this doesn’t happen in other homes. So, how is this going to be fine?”
“It just is, okay!” I snapped, feeling my defensive walls shoot up around me. “Fuck.”
“Bull,” she shouted, turning back towards the Garda station. “You’re being used as a scapegoat for your father’s crimes. Your mother just threw you to the wolves to save her abusive husband’s skin. She should have been down here with you last night, straightening all of this out and telling them that they arrested the wrong person. Instead, she was with him, plotting and scheming up a story to tell the world about how her son has anger management issues, when that couldn’t be further from the truth. You’re not the instigator in this, he is, and I’m not about to sit back and watch you take the blame.”
“Aoife.” I held up a hand in warning, feeling like she had just stabbed me through both the chest and the back. “If you say a word about this to the Gards, then I swear to god I will never talk to you again.”
Her mouth fell open. “I’m trying to protect you!”
“You swore you wouldn’t,” I reminded her. It was why I opened up to her. “You fucking promised me!”
“Well, I have to do something, Joey,” she strangled out. “I can’t watch this happen to you. I love you!“
“Well, don’t!” I roared back at her. “If loving me means betraying my trust, then don’t fucking bother! Don’t love me and don’t get involved. I can take care of my own shit.”
“Joey.”
“I shouldn’t have told you a damn thing,” I choked out, shaking now. “Fuck!”
“Joey, wait!”
“No. No. No!” Shaking my head, I turned on my heels and walked away from her, needing to put some space between us before I lost the head and said something I couldn’t take back. “I mean it, Molloy,” I called over my shoulder. “Talk to the Gards and we’re done.”
