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“Don’t even think about lying to me,” she warned, tossing the tea towel that had been resting on her shoulder at my head. “If you saw what came out of your body, what I had to clean off you, then you’d know that lying is pointless.”
Disgusted with myself, I looked around her disheveled room, her now stripped bed, and bit back a groan. “Did I…”
“Destroy my room in the process of destroying your brain?” she was quick to hiss. “Yep.”
“Sorry.” I blew out a breath. “I’ll clean everything—“
“It’s already done,” she snapped. “And before you think about running out on me without an explanation, just know that every stitch of clothing you had on is currently in the dryer downstairs. So, no, Joe, I don’t want your help to clean. All I want from you is answers.”
“What do you want to know?”
“Start with what you took this morning, and we’ll go from there.”
“Fuck.” Reaching up, I cupped the back of my head and sighed before reluctantly admitting, “I had a slip.”
“A slip.”
There was no point in lying to her, even if lying was my first language, something I’d inherited from my family.
I couldn’t do it now, though.
The look in her eyes told me that I had one chance to fix this and only one.
“I’m not going to make excuses,” I said. “There’s no excusing it.”
“No.” Her voice was thick with emotion. “There’s not.”
“Contrary to today, I really have been trying,” I added, running a hand through my hair. “More than you know.”
“Thenwhy?“ Her voice cracked, and I watched as a tear trickled down her cheek. “Why dothis? You’ve been doing so well. Iknowyou have. I know you’re not perfect, okay. I know you smoke weed. I know you have your demons and your secrets, but you weretrying. You weren’t getting all fucked up like this!”
“He broke Tadhg’s nose last night,” I heard myself admit. “And I wasn’t there to stop him.”
“Your father?” Her breath hitched in her throat. “Your father broke Tadhg’s nose?”
“Yeah. He did.” I replied flatly, hating myself with every fiber of my being for telling her things that she had no business knowing.
For dragging her deeper into my fucked-up world.
“But he’s only a child,” she cried, covering her mouth with her hand. “He’s just a little kid.”
“Doesn’t matter,” I deadpanned. “Abusive alcoholics see no age or gender. All they see is a punching bag to take aim at when the notion strikes them.”
“Joey.”
“Don’tpity me,” I warned shakily, holding a hand up. “That’s not what I want from you. Not ever.”
“I’m not,” she whispered. “I won’t.”
“Anyway, I couldn’t handle what happened last night,” I admitted.Still can’t.“So, I did what I usually do when shit gets too heavy at home.” I shrugged. “I called Shane.”
Tears streamed down her cheeks as she watched me watch her. “And?”
“And.” I exhaled a heavy sigh before admitting, “I got what I needed to help me handle it.”
“Which was?”
“Something I haven’t tried before.”
