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To be fair, it could have been worse. Gibsie was capable of saying so much worse.
“That’s lovely,” Aoife chimed in, and I noticed the way she placed a hand on her boyfriend’s knee. “Isn’t it kind of him, Joe?”
“Why?” Joey demanded, tone hard and suspicious. “What’s in it for you?”
I sighed heavily and tried to come up with something believable.
“Because I fucked her—”
“You what?” Joey roared, slamming on the brakes.
The sudden jolt of the car stopping caused Gibsie and me to lunge forward.
Turning around, Joey glared at me. “You better be messing around right now, Kavanagh, because I swear to Christ I will—”
“Over!” I hurried to explain, dragging myself back onto the seat. “I fucked her over on her first day. Embarrassed her on the pitch when I knocked her out.”
But I want to fuck her…
I want in your sister so bad you wouldn’t believe it…
The things I imagine doing to her would shock you…
I waited for the homicidal look in his eyes to fade before continuing.
“I figured I owed the girl, so I just kept an eye out on things—made sure she was settling in okay. It’s not easy starting a new school.” Shrugging, I added, “Didn’t want her getting any unnecessary shite.”
I was a sitting duck waiting for her brother to make the next move. If Joey hit me, I wouldn’t hit back. I wouldn’t retaliate.
That was the scary thing about this situation.
Sitting in his car, drunk off my ass, knowing that I was more than capable of beating the shite out of him, but knowing I wouldn’t.
Because of her. Because he was important to her. Because if I hit him, I would hurt her.
And hurting her was bad. Hurting her made me want to hurt something harder.
That notion was more messed up and complicated than my drunk ass could comprehend.
Joey didn’t reply, but he did turn his attention to the road and start driving again.
I breathed a sigh of relief.
Turning to Gibsie, I mouthed the words Keep your mouth shut.
He responded with a theatrical finger-to-mouth zipper motion.
When we reached the turnoff to my house, half an hour later, I mumbled a few short directions.
Joey responded with a clipped nod and turned right, leaving the main road for the rickety secondary road that led to the entrance of the property.
I was feeling more clearheaded now. I guess the near brush with death at the hands of Shannon’s brother had shaken some sense into me and sobered my ass up. I wished the same could be said for Gibsie, who was passed out beside me, snoring like a grizzly bear.
When Joey pulled up outside the gates of the property, I said, “We can get out here, man.”
“That’s where you live?” Shannon’s brother asked, speaking for the first time since the almost disaster that was our miscommunication. His attention was riveted to the huge cast iron gates with the ugly-ass eagles on either pillar.
“How far is it up that driveway to your house?” he asked.
