“Get out of my face, Molloy,” he growled, trying and failing to sidestep me in his pointless bid to escape an interrogation. “I know I fucked up, okay?”
“Get out of your face? You’re lucky I’m not tearing strips out of your face, asshole,” I snapped, pushing at his chest, forcing him to back up until he was pressed up against my bathroom wall.
I kept my hand on his chest, feeling an abnormal amount of heat emanating from beneath his uniform.
“What the hell,” I muttered, reaching up and pressing my hand to his neck and then his cheek. “Jesus, Joey, you’re burning up.”
Panicked, I watched as his green irises disappeared right in front of me, overtaken by pupils so dark and dilated that it made him look like a completely different person. “I’m okay.”
“You’re okay?” I stared at his ridiculously gorgeous face, feeling nothing but terror. “Joey, I just caught you snorting a line. I think it’s safe to say that you are absolutely not okay.”
“That was a mistake,” he was quick to say. “I shouldn’t have done that here.”
“No, you shouldn’t have done it at all,” I corrected, concern filling me at a rapid pace.
“It was a mistake.” A shudder racked through him. “Your father trusts me. I shouldn’t have…I let him down.” The more he spoke, the faster his words flew out of his mouth, and the looser his tone became. “It’s all good, though, Molloy.” He reached up and snatched up my hand that I was still cupping his chin with. “It’s a mistake. I, ah, I make a lot of those. I’m just so fucking tired sometimes and I, ah, well, it helps, ya know. Fuck it.”
He shook his head again but didn’t let go of my hand. “Joe?”
“I don’t know what I’m trying to say.” His entire frame pulsed with energy as he rolled his shoulders and looked around the room like it was the first time that he was seeing it. “I’ve a match over at the GAA pitch in an hour, it’s against St. Pats, they’ve a serious defense, and I haven’t slept in days.” he blew out a shaky breath, “I’m just so fucking tired and I needed something to give me a boost…but it won’t happen again. It won’t happen again.”
“Days?” I shook my head. “Why haven’t you slept in days?”
“Night feeds.”
“Night feeds?” What was he talking about? Was he rambling? Was this a side effect of taking cocaine? I had no clue. “Joe, are you with me?”
I could feel the tremors racking through his body.
They terrified me.
“Again, I’m, ah, I’m sorry about what you saw there. I don’t make a habit of, well, you know.” Shrugging, Joey suddenly dropped my hand like it had scalded him and shoved a hand through his blond hair before moving for the door. “It’s really not a big deal, though, so no worries, yeah? There’s not a bother on me.”
“Not a bother on you?” The boy had spoken more words to me in the past three minutes than he had in the past three years. He was clearly bothered. “You’re going to a match now? Like this?”
“Yeah, I sort of have to. Don’t really want to be playing, but its, ah, well, it’s not worth the hassle of trying to get out of.” Nodding vigorously, he yanked the bathroom door open. “Tell your father that I, ah, I sorted the shower. It’s running perfect again.” He turned back and gave me one final clipped nod. “I’ll be seeing ya, Molloy.”
As I watched him walk away, it took me a moment to get my bearings, and then a couple more to stop my head from spinning off my shoulders, as I registered what the hell I had just witnessed.
This was more than sharing a spliff and a flagon of cider with the boys on a Friday night.
This was cocaine.
It was serious.
Trouble.
Yeah, the boy was trouble with a capital T.
“Oh no, you don’t!“ Bolting out of the bathroom, I caught ahold of his hand before he could reach the staircase and quickly dragged him into my bedroom.
“You’re not going anywhere,” I warned, swiftly closing and then locking my door behind us. “You’re staying right here with me.”
“Open the door.”
“No.”
“Let me out.”
“No.”
All jittery and with his hands shaking at his sides, he reached for the key in my door. “Let me out of this fucking room, Molloy.”
“I said no.” Snatching up the key, I slipped it into my bra and glared up at him. “You’re staying with me.”
“I have a match.”
“I don’t care. Sit down.”
“I can’t sit down!” he snapped, running his hand through his hair, as he paced my bedroom floor. “I need to move.”
“Then move,” I agreed. “In here.”
“I’m fine,” he snapped, body trembling, as he closed the space between us, backing me up against my bedroom door. “Let me out.”
I shook my head, heart racing wildly. “No.”
“Stop fucking with me,” he ground out, chest heaving against mine, as the heat from his body scorched my skin.
He was fully clad in his school uniform, while all I had on was a pair of pink knickers and a black bra. I wasn’t even matching, dammit.
“I’m not fucking with you,” I growled. “I’m trying to help you.”
“You don’t need to do that.”
“Apparently, I do.”
“I’m fine,” he crooned, acting both irrational and erratic, as he placed his hands on my shoulders. “It’s all good.” His hands were trembling so much that I could feel the vibration right down to my toes. “Shh,” he coaxed, and then burst into a fit of laughter. “We’re grand, okay?”
He actually laughed at me.
Oh, yeah, he was definitely high.
“Fuck.” Laughing manically, he let his forehead smack against the wooden door frame right next to my head. “You’re killing my buzz, Molloy.”
He hit his head against the doorframe again, causing another pained laugh to escape him.
And then he did it again and again.
And again.
I debated calling Casey for help, before swiftly shutting that notion down, unwilling to get him into any more trouble.
Besides, it wasn’t fear for myself that I was feeling.
I wasn’t afraid of Joey.
No, I was afraid for him.
“Now, you listen here, asshole.” Snatching up his chin, I pulled his face down to mine, forcing him to look at me. “You are going to wait this out in my room, and you are going to do it without banging your head off any more doors.” With my hands on his shoulders, I walked him over to my bed and pushed him down. “You are going to sit down and take a breath.”
“I can’t sit down.”
“You can,” I argued, pushing him back down when he tried to stand.
“I need to move.”
“You need to do what you’re told.”
“I can’t breathe.”
“Yes, you can.”
“Something’s wrong,” he groaned, shaking his head, as he reached a hand behind his head and yanked his jumper off. “I can’t breathe.”
“Joe.“
“I can’t fucking breathe,” he strangled out, chest heaving, as he sprang back up and tried to side-step me. “Let me go.”
“Yes, you can.” Pushing him down on my bed, I stepped between his bopping knees and pulled his chest flush against my belly. “Look at me.”
“I’m suffocating.”
“Joey?” Holding his face between my hands, I tipped his chin up and forced him to look at me. “Breathe.”
“Molloy –”
“Breathe, Joe,” I coaxed, feeling panicked now that he was panicking. “Just breathe, okay?”
Blowing out a frustrated breath, he attempted to inhale a deep breath, but stopped midway to say, “I can’t. I can’t. I need to move—“
“Shh.” Lowering myself down on his lap, I took his hands in mine and placed them on my waist. “Just breathe.” With my eyes on his, I inhaled deeply, held it there for a moment, and then slowly let it out. “Just like that.”
He never took his dark eyes off mine as his hands tightened on my hips, and he mirrored my actions, taking a deep breath and then slowly letting it out.
“Good,” I praised, settling my hands on his shoulders. “Again.”
Still trembling, Joey took another deep breath, held it there, and then slowly released.
“Just like that.” Threading my fingers through his sun-bleached hair, I stroked his cheek with more affection than was appropriate and continued to breathe in and out with him over and over again, never once taking my eyes off his.
The more he watched me, the harder I felt him grow beneath me.