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“Let me handle your father,” she replied. “You don’t have to worry about him or Kev. You are our daughter, and you have a home with us now and always.” She paused for a beat before adding, “And you have my unconditional support.”
“I’m so sorry, Mam.”
“Me too, Aoife,” she replied sadly. “I’m so sorry, too, love.”
Ending the call, I made to slide my phone into the pocket of Joey’s sweatpants, only to still when my fingers brushed over a small plastic baggie.
Tensing, I withdrew the small bag from my pocket and stared down at the tablets in my hand. It took my eyes a moment to make sense of what I was seeing, and my head a little longer to register the magnitude.
Trembling, I slowly unsealed the bag and poured the contents into the palm of my hand, counting thirty or so small pills in several different shapes and sizes. The majority of them were stamped with little numbers: 512. D5. 325. M30. K9.
Beyond horrified, I poured them all back in the bag and resealed it before shoving it back in my pocket. Bunching the sleeves of his hoodie up to my elbows, I sagged against the kitchen door at my back, my breathing escalating to the point that I was on the brink of a panic attack.
No.
No.
No, God, please no!
Staggering to my feet, I opened the door and quickly hurried back upstairs to his room, heart racing wildly as I struggled to restrain my fear from overtaking me.
When my eyes landed on Joey, sprawled out on his back with his arm slung over his face, still sleeping, I released a shuddering breath and quietly closed the bedroom door behind me.
Fingers trembling, I reached for the hem of his hoodie and quickly dragged it over my head before kicking off his sweatpants. Desperate to get the pants away from my body, I threw them back in the corner of his room where I’d found them, before sinking down on the edge of the mattress.
With my hands knotted in my hair and my elbows resting on my thighs, I sagged forward and breathed deeply and slowly, forcing myself to get a handle on my emotions.
It doesn’t mean anything.
The bag is clearly untouched.
He’s clean.
He’s still trying.
Don’t freak out.
He’s always with you.
You would know if he was using again.
There’s a reasonable explanation for this.
There has to be…
Groaning in his sleep, Joey rolled onto his side and reached for me. “Molloy.”
Shivering, I let him pull me back into his arms and press a kiss to my temple. “Hmm?”
“Don’t run,” he mumbled in his sleep as he draped his arm around my body and spooned me from behind. “Stay, baby.”
“I’ll stay, Joe,” I whispered, clutching onto his forearm for dear life. “If you will.”
39
Sweet Sixteen
JOEY
