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Besides, I felt comfortable in the Biggs house. I always had. This house was my home away from home and the girl sleeping in the room next to the one I was currently residing in made it impossible for me to leave.
Climbing out of my makeshift bed, I padded out of the room, only to make the rookie mistake of stepping on the creaky floorboard in the landing by the staircase. Within seconds, the matriarch of the house was out of bed and patrolling the landing. “Back to bed, young man.”
Like a criminal caught in the act, I raised my hand and froze on the top step of the stairs. “I was just getting a drink, I swear.”
Nodding in approval, Sinead gestured for me to continue. “No pit stops on your way back up. Straight to bed, you hear?”
“Okay.”
“I mean it, Gibs. I’ll know.”
Oh, Jesus Christ.
Climbing off the last step, I scooped up a wandering Dick. “How’s my boy?” I cooed, cuddling him to my chest. “Jesus, you even smell like her,” I mused when I dropped a kiss to his head on my way to the kitchen. “I could eat you up.”
When I flicked the kitchen on, and the room was bathed in a dull-yellow hue, I almost dropped my pussy with fright. “Jesus Christ!”
Hugh was slumped at the kitchen table with his elbows resting on the table and his head in his hands.
“Where the hell did you come from?” I whisper-hissed. “I thought you were gone out when your bed was empty.” Frowning, I asked, “Where have you been, lad?”
“Around.”
“Are you okay?”
“I’m grand.”
“Hugh, you’re sitting in the kitchen at three o’clock in the morning, looking like someone died.” Concern grew inside of me. “You’re clearly not okay, lad.”
“I’ve just…” Cutting himself off, my friend blew out a breath and shook his head. “It’s grand. I’ll fix it.”
“Fix what?”
Silence.
“Fix what?” I repeated, taking a seat at the table.
“I’m in trouble, Gibs,” he whispered, head down.
“Trouble?” Setting Dick back down on the kitchen floor, I gave my oldest friend my full attention. “What kind of trouble, lad?”
“The bad kind.”
“The Joey Lynch kind?” I asked, feeling bad that my thoughts immediately shifted to Lynchy. “Is it drugs?”
“No, it’s not drugs, Gibs.”
“Then what is it, lad?”
When he didn’t respond, I stood up and repositioned myself on the chair next to his. “Hugh.” I placed my hand on his shoulder. “Talk to me.”
“I can’t.”
“Come on, lad, it’s me.” I gave his shoulder another squeeze. “You can tell me anything.”
He opened his mouth to respond, only to pause and then drop his head in his hands again. “Fuck it, it doesn’t matter, lad.”
“It clearly does.”
