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“I didn’t go to Shane,” he was quick to offer up. “I haven’t gone near him since that night.”
“Then where’d you get it?” I demanded. “Your personal stash?”
He offered me a sheepish shrug.
“Jesus.” I shook my head. “What am I saying? Of course you have a personal stash.”
“That’s all I had, I swear.”
“Don’t lie to me—”
“I’m not,” he interrupted. “That’s all I had. That’s it, Molloy. I swear.”
“Why?”
“Why what?”
“Why’d you do something as incredibly stupid as selling weed to a bunch of private-school kids?”
He eyed me warily, but didn’t answer.
“Why?” I repeated, not backing down.
“Because they asked me to?”
I gave him a look that said wrong answer.
He released a frustrated growl and tried again. “Because I needed the money.”
Now we were getting somewhere. “For?”
“My family.”
“Because?”
He looked up to the sky and shook his head before saying, “Because my old man blew every penny my mother had, and when he was finished spending her money, she handed him mine.”
“Are you serious?”
“It’s my own fault,” he replied in a resigned tone. “I always give her half of my wages at the end of the week to help with the bills, and a few extra quid at Christmas to get what she needs for the kids.” Frowning, he added, “Your father gave me an extra couple of hundred in my wage packet for Christmas this year, and I was either too stupid or too high to consider the repercussions when I handed it over to her.”
“You gave her all of your money?”
“Every cent,” he admitted before quickly backpedaling with a frown. “I got those slouch boots you wanted for Christmas first. They’re under my bed.”
My heart squeezed in my chest. “Joe.”
“I’ve been staying out of trouble, Molloy. Really, I have,” he urged. “Hughie Biggs approached me. He and his friends were looking for smoke and throwing around more cash than sense.” He shrugged before adding, “I took the opportunity with both hands, and I won’t apologize for it. I needed that cash for my sister and the boys. For the baby. I couldn’t see Seany go without.” He shook his head, eyes awfully full of regret for a guy who refused to apologize. “I’m not a dealer, Molloy. You know I’m not. But I couldn’t turn my nose up at a one-time offer like that. I couldn’t afford to.”
“Why?” Curiosity got the better of me and I asked, “How much did they offer you?”
“Two hundred euro for a bag that cost me sixty.”
“Are you serious?” My mouth fell open. “Do you know how many hours I have to work at the pub to make that kind of money?”
“I know.” He nodded, wide-eyed. “It’s the same for me at the garage. That’s exactly what I thought. See? This is why I love you. You get it.”
“Yeah, I get it, but that’s not the point,” I hurried to add, giving him a warning stare. “That shit stops.” Narrowing my eyes, I said, “Never again, do you hear me? If you so much as consider—”
