She watched me for several long beats before finally pulling her hand out of her handbag.
I was glad she did because I had a firm grip on the door handle and was two seconds away from bolting out of this jeep – shoe or no shoe.
"Well, I'm very sorry that happened to you, Shannon," she finally said, setting her handbag back down on the passenger side floor. "But I would still like to talk to your parents to apologize. Maybe I can do that when I drop you home –"
"There's no need," I blurted out, feeling my chest constrict with panic as the blood in my veins turned to ice. "My mother works all the time so she won't be home and my father isn’t…he won't…please don’t call…he isn’t –" My words choked on my tongue and I exhaled a ragged breath and strangled out the words, "It's not necessary."
Mrs. Kavanagh nibbled on her bottom lip uncertainly as she studied my face.
Her brown eyes were full of unspoken concern, her expression matching. "Shannon, love, I don’t –"
It was at this exact moment the front passenger door swung open, startling us both, and causing Mrs. Kavanagh to – thankfully – stop talking.
"Fuck, it's freezing out there!" Johnny announced as he jumped inside and shook himself down, causing water to spray everywhere. "I'd say it's time to batten down the hatches and get the rubber dinghies out, girls. The weather's gone to shite."
"Says the genius running around in a storm for the last half a bleeding hour," his mother quipped. "We're on the orange alert for flooding, you know. Fourth one in a month."
"You know I'm no quitter, Ma," Johnny shot back, holding up my shoe in triumph.
Twisting in his seat to face me, he arched a brow and said, "Tip for next time we do this?" His tone was serious but his eyes danced with mischief, as water dripped from his rain-flattened hair onto his forehead. "Keep your shoes on your feet."
Winking, he tossed my shoe onto my lap before turning back around and reaching for his safety belt.
"Sorry," I mumbled, red-faced.
Picking the slimy shoe off my lap, I reluctantly slipped my foot inside, shuddering at the squelching sensation.
"Thanks for saving my shoe."
"Yeah, well, thank me by learning how to walk in them," Johnny shot back in a teasing tone.
I blushed beetroot red. "Um, yeah, okay."
"Christ, that's some amount of rain for March."
"Watch your language," Mrs. Kavanagh scolded as she started the engine and pulled off. "And what's this I hear about you knocking Shannon out?"
Johnny swung around and stared at me, the expression on his face said really?
I sank back in my seat.
"Well?"
"For fuck's sake, Ma!"
"What have I told you about your language?" Mrs. Kavanagh snapped. "Cool your jets, Johnny."
"Christ." Johnny sagged against the headrest and groaned. "I already got it in the neck from Twomey, Lane, Coach, and Shannon's Ma. Please not you as well."
"Well?" Mrs. Kavanagh asked, casting a quick glance to her son before refocusing on the road. "Did you not think I should have been told?"
"I'm sorry," I squeezed out, clasping my hands together anxiously. "Your mam thought I was your…that we were…that you got me…with your pregnant balls…ugh –" Clearing my throat, I whispered, "I'm sorry."
Johnny turned back to face me and smirked. "My pregnant balls?"
"No, my pregnant and your balls," I spluttered and then cringed at my words. "Never mind."
Ignoring my rambling, Johnny turned to his mother and said, "It was an accident. She was on the pitch during training. I didn’t even see her until the ball cracked her in the head."
"Yes, I know that now. Shannon explained," Mrs. Kavanagh replied. "I hope you apologized to her, Johnny."
"Of course, I fucking apologized to her," Johnny huffed, shoulders rigid.
From my perch in the center of the backseat, I watched as he smoothed his hand over his thigh – his injured thigh.
Shaking his head, Johnny exhaled a frustrated breath and muttered, "I've been apologizing ever since."
"Still, I would have liked to have been told about this when it happened."
"Well, now you know," he bit out. "It was an accident. I didn’t mean for it to happen, and I don’t go around clocking girls over the head for shits and giggles."
"Don’t get so defensive, Johnny," she replied, tone softening. "No one's accusing you of doing it on purpose, love."
"Yeah fucking right," he muttered. "Just drop it, Ma."
He sounded agitated – no, it was more than that.
He sounded like he was in pain.
Which he more than likely was.
My memories of our conversation in his car floated into my mind in glorious colored detail.
It's not healing fast enough.
It's a fucking mess.
I'm sore.
Don’t tell anyone.
Concern sparked to life inside of me and I wondered if his mother knew how much pain he was in.
I doubted it.
Based on my limited interaction with the woman, she didn’t strike me as the type of person who would knowingly allow her son to put himself in harm's way.
"You're going the wrong way," Johnny stated when Mrs. Kavanagh took a left turn at the intersection instead of heading straight onto the motorway. "Shannon lives in Ballylaggin town –the far side."
"Oh, I know, love," Mrs. Kavanagh chirped. "I just thought it might be a nice idea to have Shannon around for tea."
"Tea?" I croaked out.
Johnny sighed heavily. "Ma."
"Do you drink tea, Shannon, love?" Mrs. Kavanagh asked.
"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 proximities with him, I found it hard to breathe.
After a few minutes of travelling 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 inwards.
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 up outside what looked to be an eight-feet 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."