Because they treat you like a dog instead of a son.
“It’s okay,” I croaked out, shifting closer until I was snuggled up to his chest. “We can handle the words the same way we handle sex.” Pressing a kiss to his chest, I whispered, “Except in this instance you set the pace, and I’ll fall in line.”
“That sounds like a plan,” he agreed gruffly.
“Yeah.” I closed my eyes and sighed in contentment. “It does.”
COFFEE WITH MARIE
OCTOBER 3RD 2004
AOIFE
“This is a bad idea, Molloy. A really fucking bad idea. Jesus, how did I let you talk me into even considering this?”
Standing in his driveway, with my hand firmly clamped in his, Joey glared at the bricks of his house like he was sizing up a mortal enemy.
“Every instinct I have inside of me is demanding that I get you as far away from shithole as possible.”
My heart broke.
This wasn’t easy for him.
In fact, this was quite possibly the most riled up I’d seen him behave in a while.
It was unsettling, and I offered him a reassuring squeeze. “It’s going to be okay.”
“No, it’s not.” He shook his head sadly. “You don’t know what you’re letting yourself in for with those people.”
I looked up at him. “Those people?”
Nodding grimly, he glared down at me. “My parents aren’t your parents, Molloy. They won’t welcome you with a hug and a roast dinner.” A visible shiver racked through his tall frame, and then he was moving, turning away from his house, and doing his very best to take me with him. “Fuck it. Forget it. Let’s just go back to your place.”
“I’m doing this, Joey,” I warned, digging my heels into the gravel. “It’s been almost nine months. I’m meeting them whether you take me inside there or I go in alone.”
“For fuck’s sake!” He blew out a harsh breath. “Why is this such a big deal for you?”
I didn’t flinch or shy away when I said, “Because I want to look that bastard in the eyes and show him that you have someone ready and willing to go to war both with you and for you.”
“Jesus.” Running a hand through his hair, he muttered, “Now you’re definitely not going inside that house.”
“You won’t talk about what happens inside of that house, and I don’t push,” I stated calmly. “I never push you, Joe, even when I see the bruises, even when you keep me completely in the dark, and especially when every fiber of my being demands that I do something to protect you.”
His eyes flashed with fear. “You swore—”
“I know and I won’t call them,” I hurried to assure him, remembering the epic fight we had the last time he showed up to school with a bloody lip and I made the mistake of asking if we should call the Gards. “I told you I wouldn’t, and I won’t.”
Releasing a shaky breath, he whispered, “Okay.”
“But I will stand beside you,” I told him, reaching up to wrap my arms around his neck. “I will do that, Joey, and there’s absolutely nothing you can do to stop me.”
He stared back at me for the longest time before relenting with a frustrated growl.
“It doesn’t matter what they say, or how they react,” I whispered, reaching up to press a kiss to the curve of his jaw. “I won’t run.”
“He might be home,” he warned, tone thick now. “He might…“
“I won’t run,” I vowed, stretching up to kiss him. “I’m not leaving you, and there’s nothing he can say or do to change that.”
“Don’t make me do this, Aoif,” he whispered then, tone begging.
His plea hurt because he used my first name, and that meant that he was reaching out to tell me just how serious he was.
“It’s going to happen someday,” I whispered back, stroking his nose with mine, desperate to give him comfort. “It might as well be this day.”
After a long moment, the imploring look in his green eyes morphed into reluctant acceptance. “Stay with me,” he told me, as he kept a death grip on my hand. “I’ll keep you safe.”
Fear washed over me.
Jesus, what the hell was he living with?
Sucking in a steadying breath, I followed Joey inside, not stopping until he had walked us past the outdated living room, through the small, run-down hallway, and into the kitchen.
“Is he here?” were the first words he greeted his mother with.
Daydreaming at the kitchen table, his mother’s head snapped up, and she stared wild-eyed for a moment before schooling her features. “Who?”
“Dad,” came Joey’s flat voice.
“No,” his mother replied softly. “He’s, not back yet.”
I wasn’t sure if the shudder that racked through Joey’s frame was one of relief or fearful anticipation, but I didn’t have much time to think about it, because he quickly pulled me forward.
“Mam, this is Aoife Molloy,” he announced, keeping a tight hold on my hand. “Aoife, this is my mam; Marie Lynch.”
“Uh, hey?” I offered a small wave with my free hand. “It’s nice to see you again, Mrs. Lynch.”
“I remember you.” Recognition flashed in her big blue eyes. “You were the girl with Joey’s school bag.”
“Yeah.” Nodding, I smiled. “That’s me.”
Joey roughly cleared his throat before adding, “Aoife is my girlfriend.”
“Your girlfriend,” his mother repeated with a small shake of her head. “I didn’t know that you were in a relationship with anyone.”
“Yeah.” Joey shrugged his stance defensive. “Well, now you know.”
“Now I know,” his mother said, eyeing me carefully. “This is your girlfriend.”
“For his sins,” I joked, but she didn’t laugh.
Ah crap.
Quickly sobering my features, I added, “It really is lovely to see you again, Mrs. Lynch. I’ve heard a lot about you.” God, I was such a bullshitter. “Joey speaks very highly of you.”
“It would be nice if I could say the same,” she said, before adding quietly, “But Joey doesn’t speak about you at all.”
“Mam,” Joey said in a warning tone.
A small tremor rolled through his body, and I gave his hand a gentle squeeze, desperate to give him reassurance.
That this was okay.
That I could exist in both of his worlds.
That I wouldn’t run.
My act of support was awarded with a smile, as his green eyes locked on mine, searching my face for something he would never find.
He was looking for my trepidation.
It didn’t exist.
“When did you both meet?” she asked then, dragging my attention back to her.
“First year,” I told her. “We’ve been in the same class ever since.”
Her eyes widened. “So, this… relationship has been going on for a long time?”
“Well, we’ve been friends for—“ I began to say, but Joey quickly interrupted when he said, “you could say that.”
“And is it serious?” She looked at her son. “Are you serious about her?”
“You could say that,” was all he replied, but it caused my heart to hammer with pure unadulterated joy.
He wasn’t denying how he felt.
He didn’t play it down or brush it under the rug.
‘You could say that’ was all but a declaration of love when it came to this boy.
“Mam!” a voice screamed from somewhere above us then. “He’s blocked the fucking toilet again.”
Startled, Mrs. Lynch literally jerked before releasing a small shudder. “Tadhg, mind your language, will you?” she called back. “We have company.”
“Like I give a crap,” came the voice again. “That dope of a son you call Oliver doesn’t seem to understand that he doesn’t need to use an entire toilet roll to wipe his hole.“
“Tadhg!” Mrs. Lynch shouted, but it was a pitiful attempt, sounding more like a defeated sigh, as she reached for her cigarettes. “I told you to mind your language.”
“Ollie plugged the toilet,” Tadhg shouted again. “And I need to take a—“