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“Um…yes?”
“Ma,” Johnny hissed in a low tone. “What are you doing?”
“The girls are at the groomers in town and need to be collected at seven,” Mrs. Kavanagh explained. “It’s almost five now. It doesn’t make sense to drive all the way into Ballylaggin with Shannon, only to drive all the way back again for the dogs.”
“Then pick them up now,” he hissed, tensing.
“I can’t,” Mrs. Kavanagh replied breezily. “I’ve left my purse at home.”
“Ma, no,” Johnny said in a warning tone as he slowly shook his head. “She wants to go home.”
“Shannon doesn’t mind if we pop home for an hour before dropping her home,” Mrs. Kavanagh replied.
“You didn’t even ask her,” Johnny bit out.
“Shannon?” Mrs. Kavanagh called back to me. “Do you mind, love?”
Say no, Shannon.
Tell her that you do mind.
If he finds out, he’ll kill you.
You know this is wrong.
This boy is not safe for you…
“I don’t mind,” I strangled out, torn by the fear inside of my heart and the burning curiosity in my body. “It’s okay by me.”
“See now?” his mother quipped, patting Johnny’s cheek. “Shannon doesn’t mind, love.”
Johnny turned back and gave me an apologetic look. I didn’t know what to say or do so I just shrugged and smiled weakly back at him. He stared at me for a long beat before exhaling a sharp breath and turning back to face the windscreen.
Oh god.
Oh lord.
Oh sweet merciful baby Jesus…
Breathe, Shannon, just breathe…
I remained quiet, watching Johnny and his mother interact and speaking only when I was asked a direct question. It was awkward, uncomfortable, and I was achingly aware of his presence the entire time, my body on high alert. For what, I had no clue. But every time I was in close proximity with him, I found it hard to breathe.
After a few minutes of traveling up a narrow secondary road, we pulled up outside the familiar black iron gates. Mrs. Kavanagh rolled down her window, stretched her arm out, and keyed the code into the pad. And just like when I came here with Joey a little over a week ago, the huge gates swung inward.
Concentrating on my breathing, I tried not to focus on how beautiful his home was and how inferior I felt to be, once again, about to enter it.
“Now,” Mrs. Kavanagh announced, parking outside their eight-foot-tall door. “Bring your friend inside, love, and get her something warm and dry to change into.”
She cut the engine and unbuckled her seat belt.
“I must make a quick call to work and then I’ll make you both something to eat.”
“Ma—” Johnny began to say, but Mrs. Kavanagh climbed out of the car and hurried over to unlock the front door.
Stunned, I could do nothing but watch as Mrs. Kavanagh disappeared into the house, leaving us alone in her Range Rover.
“I am so fucking sorry about this,” Johnny announced, distracting me from my inner turmoil. He twisted around in his seat to face me. “I have no bleeding clue what she was thinking.”
