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PART 11
132
Back to Ballylaggin
JOEY
After spending forever thinking it would never happen, it finally did. The day I had been both living for and dreading since my mind came back to me had arrived.
August 29, 2005.
D-Day.
The first day of the rest of my life, or so I had been told.
Fuck.
The terms of my discharge came with stipulations though. Stipulations I’d agreed to in order to get out but could hardly bear thinking about now.
Stipulations that included blazers.
Standing outside the rehabilitation facility that had been my home since my own had burned to the ground, I dutifully ignored the elderly porter standing beside me. The fuck was he going to do if I tried to escape? I had no plans on running, and even if I had, my conscience would never allow. Poor bastard would probably keel over trying to chase me.
With a duffel bag thrown over one shoulder and a folder clutched in the other hand, I watched as a shiny Range Rover pulled up beside the footpath.
Breathe.
Just breathe.
A not-so-little part of me was screaming at me to run for the hills, get the hell out of Dodge and far away from these people. I didn’t, I held firm, keeping my two feet locked in place as the tinted window rolled down and I was faced with a familiar blond woman, who looked nothing like the woman who bore me.
“Hello, love.” Edel beamed out the car window at me. “I would jump out and throw my arms around you, but I’ve been given strict instructions by John to lay off the hugging.”
Thank Christ for that.
“Climb on in, love,” she added, shifting her sunglasses onto the top of her head. “It’s a long drive home, and the boys can’t wait to see you.”
Knowing that this woman held any future access I hoped to have with my siblings in the palm of her hand, I relented any notions of fleeing and swung the car door open.
“Thanks again for coming to pick me up.” Tossing my bag into the back seat, I climbed into the passenger seat beside her, feeling twitchy and off-kilter as fuck. “And, ah, for the rest of it.”
“Anytime, Joey love,” Edel replied as she pulled back onto the road. “How are you feeling?”
Ironically, Matchbox Twenty’s “Unwell” was playing on the car stereo, and for a brief moment, I debated telling her that I felt more than a little unwell, before settling on the standard “I’m grand,” instead.
Glancing sideways, Edel cocked a brow and gave me a don’t-bullshit-me look before turning her attention back to the road.
Behave, lad.
Don’t fuck this woman off.
Knees bopping restlessly, I wiped my sweaty palms on my thighs, and blew out a breath, feeling both claustrophobic and agitated.
Life had moved on for everyone since I left Ballylaggin. I no longer had a job, a team, a mother, or a fucking role to play. I had to start from scratch, and regardless of the amount of counseling I had, I didn’t know where scratch began for me. The only arrow pointing the way for me now was the one directing me straight toward Molloy.
“Shannon is just dying to see you,” she continued, tone light. “She’s been in the kitchen since the crack of dawn with Ollie and Sean. They’re baking you a cake.”
Jesus.
