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“I know you do,” she coaxed, sounding pained. “But I can’t get you out, Joe.”
“I can climb—”
“No, baby, you can’t,” she cut me off and said, “You’re too hurt.”
“You’re hurt. I hurt you.” I groaned, flinching when a surge of pain hit me square in the chest. “Fuck, I think my brain has stopped working.”
“Where have you been?”
“I don’t remember,” I mumbled, feeling drained of any hope. “I’m just so fucking sorry. I love you so much, Molloy. I swear I do.”
“I know you do, Joe. God, I know…” Her voice trailed off and a sob escaped her. “Listen, I need you to show me your arms, okay?”
“My arms?”
“Yeah.” Sniffling, she took a step back and snatched one of my hands up in hers. “It’s okay,” she coaxed, slowly peeling the sleeve of my hoodie up, only to burst into tears when she reached my elbow.
“I’m sorry.”
“The other one,” she squeezed out, taking my other hand and doing the same.
“So sorry.”
“You’ve been with Shane Holland, haven’t you?”
“I don’t remember.”
“You could die, Joe!”
“I don’t know if I want to live, Aoife.”
“Don’t say that!” she warned, reaching her arm back through the bar to hook it around my neck. “Don’t you ever say that again, do you hear me?”
“I’m only here for you,” I confessed, reveling in the warmth of her hands on my skin. I was so fucking cold. She was the only thing that could warm me. “I want it gone, Aoife. I want it to be done with—”
“No, baby, no.” Sniffling, she pulled me close and sealed her mouth to mine. “I won’t let you go.”
Shivering when the heat from her lips and tongue melted the ice inside of me, I tried to get closer, needing to be with her. “Don’t run, Molloy. I know I don’t deserve you, but please just…don’t run.”
“Never.”
“Please just…please keep loving me.”
“Always, Joe,” she breathed against my lips. “Always.”
“Because I feel like I’m all alone here, baby.”
“No.” Shaking her head, she pulled back to wipe the tears that were trickling down my cheeks and then leaned back in to gently stroke my nose with hers. “You have us.”
Trembling, I reached my hand between the bars and reached for her. “I want to be good enough for you.” Sniffling, I cradled the small swell of her stomach as the wind whipped at my face. “For both of you.”
“I believe in you,” I heard her say through her tears. “Do you hear me, Joey Lynch?” Clutching my face between her hands, she looked me right in the eyes and whispered, “I still believe in you.”
You’re the only one.
83
You’re Not Taking Him
