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Because what would happen to Tadhg, Ollie, and Sean if we were gone? Tadhg was next in line to me, therefore he would take the brunt of my father’s wrath.
That concept was abhorrent to me.
Reaching up, I rubbed my cheek and forced myself to not cry.
He gave me one final look before shaking his head. “Go on. Get out of my sight.”
Without another word, I hurried out of room with tears stinging my eyes.
I hate you! I silent screamed as I made the familiar run to my room. I fucking hate you!
Racing up to my room, I made a conscious decision to tiptoe past Joey’s room, forcing myself not to make a sound, and then quickly locked myself inside my bedroom. Flicking off my bedroom light, I scrambled into my bed, threw the covers over my head, and grabbed my Discman.
Less than two minutes later, there was a soft knock on my bedroom door.
“Shan?” Joey’s voice came from the other side of the frame. “Everything alright?”
I debated not answering him, but decided against it, knowing that he would automatically jump to the right conclusion and all hell would break loose. He’d only just come back from Aoife’s tonight. I didn’t want him to go again.
So instead, I called back, “I’m fine, Joe. Just tired.”
There was a long pause before he spoke again. “You sure?”
“Yeah,” I croaked out, pressing my fingers to my bottom lip so it didn’t wobble and my voice didn’t tremble.
“You don’t sound fine,” my brother replied.
Dammit.
Clearing my throat, I added, “I’m having female issues.”
“Female issues?” he called back, sounding confused.
“I’m on my period.”
“For fuck’s sake, I really didn’t need to know that, Shan,” Joey groaned, and I imagined him shuddering on the other side of the door.
A few moments later, the sound of his bedroom door clicking shut filled my ears.
Releasing a ragged breath, I batted away the hot tears burning my cheeks.
One of these days, I was going to get out of this house. And when I did, I was never going to come back.
It was with that thought, that tiny slither of hope, and Johnny’s mix CD playing in my ears, that I drifted off to a fitful sleep.
53Sticky Gifts
JOHNNY
From the age of six, I had been focused solely on rugby. I believed in myself and my abilities. There was something inside of me that sparked to life, an almost dancing sensation fluttering over my skin, when I had the ball in my hands. I knew I was going to the Academy, and when I got there I wasn’t one bit surprised.
I was that sure of my future. I refused to accept any other route in life.
A career in professional rugby was my goal, my purpose, my fucking fate, and I was grabbing it with both hands.
I wasn’t impulsive. I was steady. Goal-oriented. Driven. Determined.
I was probably a lot of other negative traits, too, but I only focused on my strengths.
