His entire face was swollen like a balloon, and there was blood flowing freely from his clearly broken nose. The knuckles of his handcuffed hands were torn open and dripping with even more blood.
“Molloy,” he said, when he noticed me running towards him. “What are you doing here?”
“Joe!” Dodging one Garda, and sidestepping another, I didn’t stop until I was flung against his chest, with my arms wrapped tightly around his neck. “Oh my god, Joe.”
“It’s grand,” he was quick to soothe. “It’s all good, baby.”
“Step away,” a Garda instructed, as she forcefully removed me from him.
“Don’t be worrying, Molloy,” Joey called over his shoulder, as he was ushered into the back seat of the squad car. “I’ll call you later.”
Reeling, I watched on helplessly for the second time as the Gards drove away with him in handcuffs.
“What the hell happened?” I shouted, furious when the remaining Gards completely ignored me, while they made their way out of the garden. “Well?”
Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted a familiar face, and my heart sank into my ass.
“Well, if it isn’t young Aoife,” Jerry Rice said, as he strolled towards me. “I haven’t seen you in a while.” He gestured around him before adding, “So, this is how you’re keeping yourself occupied these days.”
I knew it was a dig.
I also knew that if I opened my mouth and talked back, it would only harm Joey in the long run.
“That young fella you’re knocking around with is a bad type,” he continued to say. “Attacked his father, so he did. Made an awful job of the poor man.” He sighed heavily. “You’d do well to cut your losses with that toe-rag.”
Using an ornate amount of self-control, I smiled politely at my ex-boyfriend’s highly ranked Garda father, and turned on my heels, making a beeline for Joey’s front door.
I didn’t knock.
It was incredibly reckless of me, but I walked right inside without invitation.
I wasn’t sure what I had expected to see, but the sheer amount of blood on the sitting room floor was sobering.
“Aoife?” Sniffling, Shannon stumbled off the couch and barreled towards me.
“Hey,” I soothed, when her small arms came around me. “Are you okay? What happened?”
“He left,” she cried. “He was g-gone, for almost t-two weeks. Until tonight. He came b-back and they g-got into a huge f-fight…”
“Your father and Joey?”
Clenching her eyes shut, she nodded against me. “It was t-terrible. The worst I’ve ever s-seen them f-fight.”
I glanced around at the room taking in the sight of the broken coffee table and shattered glass and ornaments. There was a poleaxed Christmas tree strewn against the television unit, with festive baubles scattered everywhere.
“The neighbors must have h-heard them and called the Gards, because they showed up and arrested my b-brother.”
“Why?” I demanded. “Why’d they arrest Joey?”
“Because he w-won,” Shannon cried, holding onto me like I could somehow fix this. “He got the b-better of Dad for once.”
“Where’s your father now?”
“G-gone to the doctors.”
“And the boys and your mam?”
“The b-boys are in next door with Fran,” she sobbed. “And Mam… she went with D-dad.”
“She what?” My brows shot up in surprise. “What about Joey?”
Shannon shrugged and cried harder. “I don’t w-want him to g-go to prison, Aoife.”
“He’s not going to prison,” I was quick to reassure her. “I’m going to go down to the station right now and sort this whole mess out.”
“You c-can’t!” she cried, clutching me tighter. “You c-can’t t-tell them.”
“I’m not letting him get into trouble for something your father did.”
“No, no, no, please, please!” she practically screamed, and then jerked away hands moving to claw her hair. “Don’t tell!”
“Okay, okay,” I tried to soothe. “I won’t say a word until I talk to your brother.”
“Help him, Aoife,” she cried, clutching at her throat. “He’s all alone in t-the world.”
“No, he’s not,” I assured her in a shaky tone as I ran for door, with only one destination in mind. “He has me.”
NO MORE CHANCES, LYNCH
DECEMBER 11TH 2004
JOEY
It was gone nine the following morning before was I released from the Garda station, making last night one of my longest stints in the cells. A stark preview of what would happen once I turned eighteen at the end of this month.
No more chances, Lynch.
This is your last warning.
Beyond exhausted, I stretched out my stiff limbs and stepped through the station doorway, only to halt at the top of the stone steps when my eyes landed on a familiar blonde, curled up under a coat, fast asleep.
“Molloy?” Concern filled me. “Did you stay here all night?”
Blinking awake, she looked around sleepily before her eyes settled on my face.
“Joe.” Relief flashed across her face as she sprang up from the step and bolted towards me. “Oh, thank god!” Throwing her arms around me, she squeezed me tight, and then pulled back to slap my chest. “You have some serious explaining to do.”
“You’re one to talk,” I growled, holding her shoulders so that I could get a proper look at her face. “What the hell were you thinking staying out here all night, Molloy? It’s the middle of winter?”
“They wouldn’t let me talk to you,” she snapped back. “And I wasn’t going anywhere until I did.” Releasing another ragged breath, she pulled me in for another hug. “What happened? What did they say? Were you charged with anything?”
“Everything’s fine.” Slinging an arm over her shoulders, I led her away from the station, needing to put some space between this girl and my mistakes. “Stop worrying.”
“Stop worrying? I’ve been more than just worrying, Joe. God, I feel like I haven’t been able to breathe again until just now.” With her arm around my waist, she slipped her hand into the ass pocket of my jeans and leaned into my side. “What happened?”
I thought about feeding her the same bullshit I’d given to the Gards, but I had too much respect for this girl, and had too many feelings involved, to give her anything other than the truth.
“He walked out on Mam a couple of weeks ago for some barmaid from town that she caught him messing around with,” I heard myself explain, unnerved by just how easy it was to be truthful with her.
It didn’t happen often.
Shit, it never happened.
Not with anyone else.
Just her.
Only ever her.
“Mam was a mess when he left and took to the bed.” I grimaced at the memory of trying to spoon-feed the woman a cup of crappy instant soup. “That was the family shit I told you that I was dealing with.” Shrugging, I added, “I couldn’t leave Sean on his own with her. Not when I couldn’t be sure that she would feed him. So, I took a few days off to hold the fort at home, while my mam processed whatever the hell it was that she needed to process.”
“And last night?”
“Last night, he decided he had enough of his barmaid and came back, laying down the law and stinking of whiskey.” I stiffened at the memory of him sauntering through the front door like he was God’s fucking gift. “And it got messy.”
“How messy?”
Messy enough that when Mam, who had only managed to drag herself out of the bed and put herself back together that day, made the near-fatal mistake of telling him to turn around and leave.
“He beat my mother,” I heard myself growl. “So, I beat him.”
“He beat your mam?”
“Yeah.” I nodded stiffly. “And the bastard’s always been smart enough to hurt her where nobody will see the marks.”
“Jesus, Joe…”