Binding 13: Boys of Tommen #1

"Let's see what we're dealing with," Joey said with a sigh.

Reaching into his jeans pocket, he pulled out his wallet, tossed it on the table, and then went back for the loose change rattling around in his jeans.

"I don’t get paid again until next Thursday," he muttered more to himself than us as he tipped the contents of his wallet on the table and began to count. "Which leaves us with exactly –" he paused to stack a few coins. "Eighty-seven euro and thirty cents for the next six days."

"That's good, right?" Aoife offered with forced optimism.

Joey nodded cautiously. "It should work."

"You know I'd help if I could," I croaked out, feeling like deadweight around my brother's neck. "But he won't let me get a job–"

"Stop," Joey commanded. "Don’t even think about taking on blame for this, Shan."

But I did.

I felt incredibly guilty.

There was something about me that caused all this pain.

If I wasn’t in this house, I was fairly sure my family wouldn’t have half the problems they did.

Mam took a beating from my father because of me.

Because he hated me.

I was the problem.

Joey exhaled heavily. "Check the fridge for me."

Reluctantly, I did as I was told.

Yanking the fridge open, I held the door out for Joey to see for himself.

"Fucking cunts," he growled once more, taking in the sight of the almost bare shelves inside the fridge.

"The cupboards are the same," I decided to fill in before he asked me to open those, too. "Mam usually does the shopping on a Saturday."

"Usually," Joey tossed out bitterly.

"She wouldn’t leave like this, Joe," I whispered. "She'd never leave us without the shopping."

"Well, she did," he snapped. "And it's grand, Shan. We'll manage."

"Okay," I croaked out.

Running a hand through his hair, Joey dropped his elbows on the table and muttered a few incoherent curse words to himself before saying, "I'll give Mark a buzz in the morning. He has a conservatory job lined up in the city next week. I'll ask if he needs a laborer."

"No way, Joey. You cannot miss school," Aoife admonished. "It's the leaving cert."

"No, babe," Joey replied wearily. "I can't let the kids go hungry, and god only knows when that bitch will come back."

"I can help you with –"

"I am not taking your money, Aoife," Joey cut her off by saying. "So please don’t offer."

"Joey, I want to help you."

"And I love you for that, but I'm not taking handouts from my girlfriend."

"Do you know where she is?" Aoife asked then, directing the question at me.

She was clearly desperate to comfort him and didn’t know how.

I wanted to tell her she couldn’t, we were too damaged, but I held my tongue and addressed her question instead. "I presume she's gone to find him."

It was a depressing thought, but more than likely the truth.

"Guys," Aoife said in a nervous tone. "Don’t bite my head off for this, but should you think about calling the authorities?"

Joey gaped at her like she had grown three heads.

Panic flared up inside of my chest.

Aoife, noticing our reactions, turned bright red.

"He can't keep doing this to you," she quickly explained. "And you're both here alone looking after three small children…It's not right or fair on any of you."

"No, it's not right or fair on us," Joey snapped. "But Shannon and I have been down that road before and there's no fucking way we're going back there."

"Joey!" I hissed, shaking my head.

"Look at us, Shan," he groaned. "She can already see how fucked up we are."

I knew that, but I continued to shake my head.

Ignoring my silent protests, Joey went into a full-on rant, revealing our biggest fear, the one that kept us silent for most of our lives.

"When we were small. Before the boys were born – when it was just Darren, Shannon, and myself – the three of us were put into care for six months."

Aoife's eyes widened and I smothered a groan. "You never told me that."

"It's not something I go around talking about, babe," he replied gruffly. "Besides, I was only six at the time." He inclined his head towards me and said, "Shan was only three. Mam placed us in voluntary care – said she was too sick to care for us at the time. Dropped us off and walked the fuck away. Shannon and I got lucky. We were placed together with a nice family." Exhaling heavily, he added, "Darren was eleven at the time and wasn’t so lucky."

Tears filled my eyes because I knew what Joey was going to say next.

"Joe, please don’t," I begged.

"He was sent to a care home where things happened to him," Joey choked out. "Things that aren’t supposed to happen to children."

Aoife clasped her hand over her mouth. "Are you saying…"

Joey nodded stiffly.

Tears filled her eyes. "Oh, baby."

"Don’t," he whispered, shaking his head. "It didn’t happen to me."

"I know," Aoife choked out, reaching for his hand. "I just…it's awful."

"Anyway, when Mam's health improved, she went to court and managed to get us back," he quickly hurried on. "It all came out in court about what happened in that care home, and because she'd voluntarily given us up because of 'health problems' she was somehow re-awarded custody." Joey stared down at their joined hands for a long moment before continuing. "Darren was never the same again, and neither was our father."

Sighing wearily, he added, "He actually wasn’t too bad a guy before that. But after it all came out about Darren, the old man lost his fucking mind. He couldn’t get over it and turned to the drink. Got this ridiculous fucking notion into his head that what happened to Darren had somehow turned him."

Joey shook his head and released a frustrated breath. "Had he paid an ounce of fucking attention to us growing up, he would have known better."

"I don’t know what to say," Aoife whispered, gaze flickering from me to Joey.

"It's not right what happens in this house but it's better than what's out there in some of those homes," Joey stated. "There's no fucking way I'm letting my sister and brothers go into care, babe. No goddamn way. At least when they're here, they're all in one place and I can keep them somewhat safe."

"Do you guys have someone you can call?" she asked, eyes laced with concern. "A relative or a family friend?"

"Nanny is eighty-one," I whispered, wiping my tears away. "She's too old and fragile to –"

"Myself and Shannon have each other," Joey interrupted, gesturing a finger between us. "That's it."

"Not anymore," Aoife told my brother. "You have me." Reaching across the table, she covered his hand with hers and smiled weakly. "All of you."

Joey's shoulders visibly sagged as she snatched her hand up and pressed his lips to her knuckles.

"Christ, I love you," he told her, voice low and gruff.

I turned away because it was too hard to watch.

I loved Aoife Molloy.

I truly loved the girl as a sister.

But I also resented her.

Because I knew exactly how appealing unconditional love, affection, and security was to someone like Joey.

It was the same for me.

And because I knew in my heart and soul exactly how this would pan out.

From her, Joey was receiving a form of love he'd been denied his whole life.

And if that girl jumped, he would jump right along with her.

I wouldn’t blame him.

Given the chance, I would jump, too.

But knowing that his time in this house was coming to an end made it hard for me to breathe.

I could feel it coming down the tracks like a freight train.

Our father would be back.

He always came back.

And I honestly couldn’t see my brother sticking around once he did.

He'd taken eighteen years of beatings and abuse.

I wasn’t sure he could take much more.

"Okay!" Aoife clapped her hands together and stood up. Sniffling, she wiped the tears from her cheeks away and forced a bright smile. "I am starving and I know you both must be, too. So, I am going to make a food run to the chipper and it will be my treat."

Joey shook his head. "Aoife, I told you –"

Chloe Walsh's books