Standing in the doorway, I watched their strange interaction with my hand clasped over my mouth, partially because of the smell, but mostly because it was so funny.
"Brian!" Gibsie was roaring. "What the hell is wrong with you?" He turned on the water and grabbed the shower head. "God, that's the worst fucking thing I've ever smelled in my life."
"Yeah, I know, Gerard," Claire hissed, covering her nose and mouth with her hand while using the other to pour bleach into the tub. "I can smell it too, you know."
"He did this on purpose," he told her, tone accusing. "Because I put him out of my room last night. He's punishing me."
"He's glaring at you," she told him.
"I know." Gibsie shuddered. "Just pick him up and put him in the utility room."
"He's glaring at me now," Claire squeaked, scrambling away from the cat.
"He's trying to intimidate you, babe," Gibsie coaxed. "Don’t look him in the eyes."
"Christ, he's scarier than Mr. Mulcahy," Claire groaned, shrinking behind Gibsie's huge frame.
"Just come up from behind him and scoop him up," he instructed as he held the shower hose in front of them like a weapon. "Keep his paws away from you –hold him away from your body and run."
"I am not picking him up, Gerard," Claire hissed, eyes wide. "He looks like he's two seconds away from murdering me."
"I'll protect you," he vowed valiantly.
"You're afraid of him!"
"Fine, hold this," he grumbled, passing my friend the hose. "I'll put the fucker out."
"Do you think we should hose him down?" Claire asked. "He's got poo all over his fur."
"Fuck no," Gibsie exclaimed. "Last time I tried to clean his ass, he maimed me."
I laughed out loud.
"It's not fucking funny, Shannon," Gibsie grumbled, surprising me by remembering my name. "I had to get a tetanus shot because of him."
"I'm sorry," I snickered, clamping a hand over my mouth. "I'm not laughing at you, I promise," I chuckled. "More at the situation." Studying the furry feline, I added, "He looks like the cat from Inspector Gadget."
"Yeah, well he's certainly evil enough," Gibsie replied. "Some nights I wake up and he's on my bed, standing over me with those evil little eyes." He shook his head. "They should have never neutered him. He's been in a homicidal mood ever since. Would have been an easier life to let the poor bastard keep his balls."
"Go on, Gerard," Claire coaxed, shoving Gibsie towards the tub. "You can do this. I have every faith in you."
"Ah fuck, okay! Okay!" With his arms stretched out, Gibsie prowled towards the cat. "Here kitty kitty," he coaxed, reaching over the tub to pick him out. "Good pussy… that's right… I love pussies…I do... I won't hurt you– ahhhhh!"
Brian snarled and wacked a paw at Gibsie, who, in turn, screamed like a girl and dove behind Claire.
"Bad fucking pussy," he choked out, dragging Claire away from the flailing cat who was hissing and spitting at them both. "Did he get me?" he demanded, thrusting his hand in her face. "I feel like he got me."
"I don’t know," Claire screeched, pushing them both into the corner of the bathroom. "But I really hate your cat," she squeezed out, huddling under his arm.
"Let me help," I offered, stepping into the danger zone.
Smothering my laughter, I swiped a towel off the hand rail and approached with caution.
"Don’t do it, Shannon," Gibsie warned as he and Claire clung to each other, cowering from the cat. "He's a bastard with violent tendencies."
"That's not true," I coaxed, crouching down in front of the bathtub, eyes locked on the stunning, albeit lethal, cat. "You're not a bastard, are you, Brian?" I asked as I reached out and stroked Brian's head.
Surprisingly, he let me stroke him without fuss.
"Meow," he croaked out, hackles retracting.
"It's okay," I soothed, stroking him in a gentle pattern. "You're okay."
"Jesus Christ," Gibsie breathed. "Your girl here is like the pussy whisperer."
"Shannon," Claire squeaked. "Please be careful. He's vicious. He can turn on you in an instant."
"Yeah, Shannon," Gibsie agreed. "Be fucking careful. He only lets my mother and Kav hold him. He's seriously dangerous."
"Shh, guys, don’t shout," I warned when Brian's hackles shot back up. "You two are making him nervous," I explained. "He can sense your anxiety and it's making him lash out."
I sat there for several more minutes just stroking and petting his face and ears until reaching over and scooping him up.
"Good boy," I cooed lovingly, holding him to my chest.
Thankfully, I was rewarded with a deep purring noise.
Flicking my gaze to Gibsie, I asked, "How far is your house?"
"Directly across the street," Gibsie replied.
"Okay." I continued to stroke Brian. "Do you want me to carry him over to your house for you?"
He nodded gratefully.
I inclined my head toward the door and said, "Lead the way."
Gibsie scuffled out nervously, keeping a wide berth of me.
Careful not to upset the cat in my arms, I followed him out of the Biggs' fancy house and across the street to another impressive looking three-story property.
"You're a lifesaver, Little Shannon," Gibsie announced when Brian was safely tucked away in his house. "Seriously."
"You're welcome," I replied, feeling shy now that my mission was complete and I was alone with a virtual stranger. "It was no big deal."
"It was for me," Gibsie chuckled as he locked the front door and slipped his key back into his jeans pocket. "I'm heading out tonight for birthday drinks and you just saved my ass from showing up covered in scratches."
"It's your birthday?" I asked, falling into step alongside him as we crossed the quiet cul de sac road back to Claire's house. "Today?"
"It is indeed." Gibsie grinned. "The big one-seven."
"Oh, well happy seventeenth birthday," I replied. "I hope you have a great night."
"Ah, I'm only heading for a few quiet ones with the lads," he explained as he walked up the garden path. "The big celebrations will happen the end of May."
"What's in May?"
"My best friend's eighteenth," he told me. Smiling knowingly, he added, "You know him, right? Johnny Kavanagh?"
"Oh." My face turned a bright shade of red at the mention of Johnny's name. "Yeah, we've met."
"He'll have gotten the call up by then," Gibsie added proudly. "It'll be a double celebration and a session and a half that night."
The call up?
What call up?
I wanted to ask him about it, but I held my tongue, knowing that it wouldn’t do me any good.
I didn’t need to add any more Johnny obsessed thoughts into my already Johnny-filled mind.
"He's coming out with us tonight," Gibsie continued to ramble on, oblivious to my blushing. "Which is a fucking miracle in itself considering he never comes out with us anymore." He opened the front door of the Biggs' house and gestured for me to walk in first. "Hughie's actually picking Kav and Feely up after dropping Katie home." Glancing at the clock hanging in the kitchen, he added, "They'll be here in a few. You should wait around down here and say hi to him." Winking, he added, "I bet he'd love to see you."
Was he teasing me?
I didn’t think so.
But he was definitely stirring.
I just wasn’t sure if it was for my benefit or not.
Either way, I was not staying downstairs to say hi to anyone.
"No, that's okay," I mumbled, feeling every ounce of blood rush to my face. "The girls are waiting for me."
"Suit yourself, Little Shannon," Gibsie chuckled.
"Happy birthday." Offering him a weak wave, I turned to bolt up the staircase. "Have a nice night."
"Will do," he called after me.
I didn’t have to turn around to see he was grinning; I could hear it in his voice.
9
Birthday Bashes and Broken Glasses
Johnny
Pubs and bars were a temptation that I tried to stay away from as much as possible.
With my training schedule, I couldn’t afford to mess around like my friends did.
Alcohol wasn’t in my diet and I was always sluggish for days after a session.