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Taming 7: Chapter 37

So, who’s the big spoon? - GIBSIE

“Gibs, for the last time, stop bleeding spooning me!” was the first thing I heard my best friend say on Wednesday morning, swiftly followed by the heel of his foot digging into my shin.

“Okay, ow,” I huffed, blinking my eyes open when pain ricocheted up my leg. “That fucking hurt, Cap. You know I bruise like a peach.”

“It was supposed to,” Johnny grumbled, shaking my arm off before pulling himself up into a sitting position. “Since when have I ever given you the impression that I’m the little spoon in this relationship?”

“And I am?”

“Well, it isn’t bleeding me!”

“I can’t help it, okay,” I huffed, flopping onto my back. “I’m used to cuddling Claire at night.”

“And I’m used to cuddling Shannon.” Reaching behind his back, he retrieved a pillow and smacked me upside the head with it. “Not my fucking flanker.”

“Yeah, well, those Lynches are like breeding vessels, so if you think about it, this impromptu sleepover might have just saved your ass from joining Lynchy on his trip down early fatherhood lane.”

“Hold up.” Johnny narrowed his eyes at me. “Did you just call my girlfriend a breeding vessel?”

“Shh, don’t be cranky,” I coaxed, rolling onto my side to snuggle the pillow he tried to maim me with. “You said it yourself that you and Shan want a bunch of kids when you’re older, so think of it as a compliment.”

“I don’t know what to think when it comes to the shit that comes out of your mouth, Gibs, I really don’t.”

“That’s your problem, Johnny,” I replied with a yawn. “You do too much thinking.”

“And you don’t think at all.”

“Yep. Sounds about right.”

“Care to explain the late-night visit?” he asked then. “Because I have to say, Gibs, you’ve done a lot of strange things since we first met, but creeping into my bed in the middle of the night is definitely a first.”

“Yeah, sorry about that.” I offered him a sheepish grin. “I probably should’ve given you the heads-up first, huh?”

“Would’ve been nice.”

Grinning, I said, “Would it sound strange if I told you I get nightmares and you make me feel safe?”

“Only a lot,” Johnny shot back, looking mildly entertained by my antics. “So, what happened?”

“Nothing much.”

“Don’t give me that shite,” he argued with a shake of his head. “Did you have a fight with Claire or something? She’s usually your first port of call.”

“Nah, we’re good,” I replied, stretching out. “But I was over at her place when the viper showed up, throwing her usual shade at me.” Shrugging, I added, “Basically, I had to split before I snapped.”

“Jesus Christ.” Johnny narrowed his eyes. “That bleeding girl.”

“Yep,” I agreed with a tired yawn. “Oh, but it gets worse.”

“I’m listening.”

“So, I go back to my place after the fight.”

“Yeah?”

“And I walk through the door.”

“Keep going.”

“And there he is.”

“He?”

“Mark.”

“Mark?”

Mark,” I repeated, giving my best friend a knowing look.

Confusion filled Johnny’s eyes for the briefest moment before awareness quickly set in. “Oh shite … ”

“Yep,” I replied flatly, feeling my mood darken. “And apparently, he’s planning on packing the family up and moving back to Ballylaggin. Fuck my life, huh?”

“Gibs, man, what’s the story there?” he asked in a cautious tone. “I know shite went down when I first moved down here, but no one ever talks about it, and I’ve only heard bits and pieces from Feely, Hugh, and Shan.”

“Trust me, Cap, bits and pieces is all you need to know,” I muttered, feeling the four walls close around me at the thought. “It’s in the past.”

“Humor me, lad,” he pushed, nudging my thigh with his knee. “Come on, Gibs, you know I’m always on your side when it comes to that girl, no matter what.” Shrugging, he added, “But it would be a hell of a lot easier to defend you when I know the whole story.”

“You don’t need to defend me, Johnny.” His words felt like a slap to the face and my entire frame stiffened. “Because I didn’t do anything.”

“I know, Gibs,” he agreed calmly. “Never thought for one moment that you did, lad. But when it comes to you and Lizzie, I feel like I’m walking around with a blindfold on.”

“I really don’t want to talk about it,” I mumbled sleepily, settling deeper into his epic mattress, which I couldn’t even pretend I wasn’t jealous of. In fact, if I could find a way to smuggle it out of the manor and back to my house, I would do it in a heartbeat. That’s it, lad. Distraction. Good thoughts. Happy thoughts. Block it all out. “It’s so fucking pointless and we’ll just end up going around in circles.”

“Try me.”

“Jesus Christ, fine.” Sitting up, I wiped the sleep from my eyes and slumped against the headboard at my back. “Tell me what you already know, and I’ll fill in the rest.”

“Your ma left your da when you were eight and got with Keith.”

“I was seven when she threw him out,” I interjected with a heavy sigh. “But close enough.”

“Meanwhile, Keith was a widow when he moved into your gaff with his kid … ”

“Mark was no kid,” I cut him off by saying. “That prick was fourteen when our parents got together.”

“Okay, widow Keith moved into your gaff with his teenage son after your parents got divorced,” Johnny deftly corrected. “Is that about right?”

“Nope, there was no divorce,” I corrected. “You couldn’t get divorced in Ireland back then. Mam moved them in while she was still married to my old man. They didn’t get married until after my father and Beth drowned.”

“Shite.”

“Yep.” Bristling, I gestured with my hand for him to continue. “As you were.”

“So, Mark used to go out with Lizzie’s sister … ”

“Caoimhe,” I filled in.

“Caoimhe,” he repeated with a grateful nod. “They went to Tommen together?”

I nodded stiffly.

“Were they in the same year?”

“For a while.”

“So, Mark and Caoimhe must be close in age to Shan’s brother, Darren,” Johnny said, doing some pretty fast fucking math in his head. “I know Darren went to BCS, but they could’ve easily gone to the same primary school together?”

“I don’t know, lad.” I shrugged. “I barely knew of the Lynches back then. They didn’t go to my primary school, remember?” Shrugging, I added, “I barely remember the lads I went to primary school with, let alone anyone else.”

“But Keith and Mark are blow-ins, so he obviously didn’t go to primary school in Ballylaggin, but Lizzie, Shan, Joe, Tadhg and Ols all went to Sacred Heart, so I’m guessing Darren and Caoimhe did, too,” Johnny muttered, more to himself than me, as he mentally pieced the puzzle of my past together.

“You know, Cap, when I said tell me what you know, I didn’t mean in this much detail,” I joked. “Christ, you’d make one hell of a detective.”

“I like to be thorough,” he shot back unaffected. “So, they went out together? Mark and Caoimhe?”

“Pretty much.”

“And you guys already knew each other because of Lizzie and Claire being friends?” Frowning, he added, “And because Caoimhe used to babysit all of you guys when you were kids?”

“Pretty much.”

“Come on, Gibs,” he pushed. “Give me something here, will you?”

“What do you want me to say?” I snapped, feeling claustrophobic.

“More than the words pretty much.”

“Fine!” I snapped, running a hand through my hair in frustration. “How about this; they went out together for a few years. He was a good-for-nothing prick, and she was a fucking eejit for going anywhere near him. If they weren’t causing drama and scenes by breaking up every second weekend, they were fucking on the job like rabbits. Remind you of anyone?”

“Lizzie and Pierce.”

“Ten points to Gryffindor,” I cheered with a sarcastic clap. “Listen, everyone tried to tell her what a piece of shit he was, but she wouldn’t hear a word of it. In Caoimhe’s eyes, Mark could do no wrong, and fuck you if you told her otherwise. It went back and forth like that for years, fucking years, Kav, until she clearly came face to face with his true colors.” Bristling with agitation, I rolled my shoulders in my attempt to stop the shudder racking through me. “After she died, a rumor went around town that she left a suicide note for her mother disclosing a rape. The Gardaí investigated and found nothing. Not a shred of evidence to support the Young family’s allegations. Eventually, the investigation was dropped, Mark graduated from Tommen, and left Ballylaggin.” Blowing out a breath, I gestured aimlessly before saying, “Leaving the rest of us to clean up his mess.”

“Well, shite.”

“Pretty much.”

“So, even though there was no solid proof, Lizzie and her family are convinced that Caoimhe killed herself because of a sexual assault she endured at the hands of your mother’s husband’s son?”

Yes,” I confirmed with a nod, relieved that he didn’t refer to him as my stepbrother.

“And Lizzie has it in for you because your mother is still married to his father?”

“Yep.” I nodded. “That and the fact that Mam and Keith backed Mark one hundred percent, causing a whole heap of drama between our families.”

“But you didn’t?”

“Hell no!” I narrowed my eyes. “I tried to warn her years ago, but she wouldn’t hear a word of it.”

“But you and Lizzie used to be friends before this?”

“Yep,” I replied with a nod. “We all were – although, she tried her best to turn everyone against me after it happened.”

“What do you mean?”

“Claire, Feely and Hugh,” I bit out. “She wanted them to choose.”

“Between you and her?”

“Yep.”

“But they refused?”

“Yeah.” Another nod. “And I’m fairly sure that’s a lot of the reason why Hugh and Liz barely speak anymore.”

“Shite.” Johnny was quiet for a long time before asking, “Do you think he did it, Gibs?”

“Who?”

“Mark.”

With my heart bucking wildly in my chest, I nodded stiffly.

“Jesus,” my best friend whispered, rubbing his jaw. “And now he’s back in town?”

“Yep.”

“For two whole months.”

“You got it in one.”

“What a clusterfuck.”

“Agreed.”

“Well, you’re always welcome to crash here,” Johnny said, before throwing off the covers and climbing out of bed.

“Cheers, Cap,” I replied, settling back down in his super-sized bed. “Legend.”

“Anytime, lad.” Grabbing his phone off the nightstand, he glanced briefly at the screen before stretching. “Right, come on. It’s only half six. We can get a run in before school.”

“Are you mental? The only thing I plan on doing before school is sleeping – and maybe, having a few of your mam’s pancakes if they’re on offer.”

“Get up.”

“Hard pass.”

“Come on, Gibs, we have a match today.”

“Exactly. I need all the rest I can get.”

“Gibs!”

“Night, Cap. Love you.”

Forty minutes later, and I found myself a breathless, wheezing mess at the mercy of a masochistic Dub, with a penchant for sadism when it came to his best friend’s lungs.

“You’re a monster,” I strangled out, gasping for air, as I tried to keep up with his inhuman stride. Aside from the fact that it was pissing rain down on top of us, it was still dark outside. “Seriously, Cap. I’m just about ready to die here, lad.”

“Come on, Gibs, you’ve got this,” he called over his shoulder. “Keep the heart rate up, lad. You’re on the last mile.”

“That’s what you said three miles ago,” I wailed, while I contemplated throwing myself over a ditch and letting the cows have me. “And I don’t ‘got this’, Johnny. I don’t ‘got this’ at all.”

“Yes, you do. Come on, lad, the house is just up ahead,” he called back, trying to motivate me. “At the top of the hill. One more big push and we’re home.”

“No, fuck it, I can’t,” I called back, feeling every muscle in my legs cramp up. “It’s not worth it. Just go on without me.”

“I’ll ask my ma to make you pancakes.”

Dammit.

“I want sugar and lemon juice, and I don’t want to hear a word about wasted calories.”

“Deal.”

“Fine,” I bit out, heaving my body up the steep country road that led to the manor. “The things I do for my stomach.”


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