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Frantically trying and failing to get hold of my boyfriend, I bombarded his sister with text messages, desperate to know if he had been in touch with any of his family. Because this felt all wrong.
I knew Joey, hell, I knew him like the back of my hand, and while he absolutely had a serious drug problem, he wouldn’t call to say he was coming over if he didn’t plan to. If Joe wanted to get high, he would do exactly that and then show up. He was an “ask for forgiveness, not permission” type of guy. The only time in our entire relationship that he bailed on me like that was the night his father beat Tadhg, which led me to believe that something very bad must have happened to him.
With bated breath, I grabbed my phone and tapped out another frantic text message to his sister.
Aoife: Any sign of him?
Shannon: Not yet. Mam’s downstairs with Darren. I can hear them arguing about Joe.
Aoife: No offense, but Darren is a big dildo.
Shannon: Agreed. They’re talking about Joe like he hasn’t kept this whole family together for the past six years. It makes me sick.
Aoife: Please, Shan. The second you see him, text me. I need to know he’s safe.
Shannon: I will.
Aoife: I mean it, okay? Please just…just text me, okay?
Shannon: I promise. x
105
Quiet Warnings
JOEY
My father got in my head again, but this time it was different. Because this time his words made sense to me. They had gotten through the walls I’d built up to keep everything out. Because this time I finally understood what he meant.
If he had walked away from Mam back in the beginning, everything would be so different. Hell, not even in the beginning. If he’d just walked away after Darren’s rape, when it was just the three of us and Mam, then we might have made it. We might have been able to pick up the pieces and build some semblance of a life for ourselves.
But he didn’t leave and the repercussions of him staying had sent shock waves through multiple lives. Worse than sending shock waves, the repercussions had ruined us.
Would that happen with me?
Would the baby growing in Molloy’s stomach turn around some day and resent me for not being man enough to walk away and give him the chance of a decent life? Would I have a son who hated me as much as I hated my old man? Would he resent his mother like I resented mine? Would he fall into the same pattern of addiction that I had? Was I forever destined to repeat the cycle, and then produce more sons to carry on the fucked-up gene?
Jesus , I could barely breathe just thinking about it. It was for those reasons that I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t go to her. Not tonight, at least.
Dejected and thoroughly demoralized, and with my father’s words still fresh on my mind, I returned to the only place I felt some semblance of control over my life.
“Word on the street is the shades lifted your ass from that prissy private school today,” Shane said when I walked into the sitting room of his shithole house and slumped down on the couch. “Fighting with the rich boys, Lynchy? Never a smart move.”
“Yeah,” I muttered, dropping my head back to rest against the couch. “Sounds about right.”
“Heard you snagged yourself a fancy-assed barrister to get the charges dropped.” Exhaling a cloud of smoke, he turned to give me a hard look. “Heard you were spilling your guts to that fancy-assed barrister. Had the judge weeping like a little bitch over your sad little life story.”
I stiffened, noting the threatening lilt to his voice.
“Relax, I didn’t say shit,” I growled, giving him a what-do-you-take-me-for look. “I’m no rat, Shane.”
“You better not be, kid,” he replied coolly. “Because you know what happens to rats.” He narrowed his eyes. “They get poisoned. Right along with every member of their little rat family.”
“I’m here, aren’t I?” I spat out, forcing down the urge to shudder as I slipped my hand into the front pocket of my school trousers and pulled out what was left of my wages. “Just give me some oxy and a few benzos to get through the night.”
He stared at the money in my hand for a long moment before blowing out a breath and reaching for it. “I don’t know what’s going on in that head of yours, kid, but if you’re palling around with lawyers, then you’re no friend of mine. If you’re thinking about jumping ship, then forget it, because you’re in as deep as I am. There’s no walking away from this world, Lynch.”
“I’m not palling around with anyone,” I bit out, watching as he retrieved the familiar tin from under his couch. “I’m just trying to get by.”
