Redeeming 6: Boys of Tommen #4

AOIFE

ENDING THE CALL, I shoved my phone into the front pocket of my black apron and shook my hands out, desperately trying to get a handle on my emotions before they got the better of me.

One whole week had passed since I landed on Joey’s doorstep on New Year’s Eve, and I was still a walking mess because nothing had changed.

We were still over.

He was still gone.

I was still shredded. 

Keep it together, Aoife.

You’re at work.

You can cry when you get home.

Don’t you dare embarrass yourself!

Refusing to give into the overpowering urge to slump in the corner of the smoking area and rock, I pushed my shoulders back, tipped my chin up, and sauntered back to the bar.

I might be crumbling to pieces on the inside, but I would do it with dignity, dammit.

He’s just a boy.

Just one boy.

You can survive this.

“Mind the bar,” Julie muttered, skulking past me when I returned to my post. “I’m going for a ciggie.”

Since turning eighteen last September, I’d stepped in enough times behind the bar, and pulled enough pints, to know my way around a tap. When the orders started trickling in, I handled it with ease, flirting and smiling and sticking out my chest, like the pro I was.

Unfortunately, one of those orders just so happened to come from a man who made my skin crawl.

“Jameson straight, no ice,” Joey’s father demanded from his perch at the bar.

Forcing myself to keep my smile in place, I quickly set to work on preparing his drink, forcing myself to repress a shudder when I felt his eyes on my back.

“What?” Teddy taunted when I set his drink down on the beer mat in front of him. “No sweet talk for me?”

“That will be three euro please,” I replied, jaw aching from the effort it was taking to keep my smile in place.

Reaching into his jeans pocket, he grabbed a fistful of loose change and smacked it down on the counter in front of me, causing pennies and coppers to spill everywhere. “You can count, can’t ya, girl?”

“I sure can,” I replied, unwilling to let him entice me into an argument, as I used my finger to slide the coins towards me. “Enjoy your drink.”

“I’d enjoy my drink a lot more if you popped a few buttons on that blouse.”

Now I did shudder. “Don’t you have a wife at home to be looking after, Teddy?” Moving to the cash register, I tallied up his drink and dropped the coins inside the till drawer before snapping it shut with a clatter. “A pregnant wife.”

I wasn’t unfamiliar with being propositioned by punters. It came hand in hand with the job, but this was Joey’s father.

As far as he knew, I was his son’s girlfriend.

This wasn’t his first attempt to lure me out back for a quickie, but that didn’t make it any less disturbing.

The man set my teeth on edge in the worst kind of way, and being in his presence was the ultimate form of unsettling.

Dutifully ignoring his comments, I cleared away glasses and wiped down the bar, doing pretty much anything I could to get away from him.

“Tell me something.” Shifting on his stool, he folded his arms across his chest and gave me a heated look. “What are ya doing with him?”

“I presume you mean Joey?” I answered, knowing that he wouldn’t let up until I did.

Like I said: not my first time serving this creep.

Nodding stiffly, he never took his cold brown eyes off me.

Fully aware that any admissions from the heart would be wasted on this man, and unwilling to lose my job over him, I slapped on a smile and said, “I told you before. That son of yours is more than able to keep me satisfied.”

“He’s a kid.”

“And what am I?” came my dry response. “A middle-aged woman?”

“If I was your father, you wouldn’t be working behind a bar.”

“You’re certainly old enough to be my father.”

His nostrils flared. “You don’t know what you’re missing.”

“Okay, you need to stop.” My smile faded and I gave him a hard look. “If Joey knew that you were speaking to me like this, he would—”

“What?” he cut me off with a threatening lilt to his voice. “He would do what, girl?”

“He would break your fucking neck,” I bit out, keeping my tone low. “So, back off.”

“Well, I don’t see that young fella of mine anywhere, do you?” Elbows resting on the bar, he leaned closer. “What time do ya get off work?”

“A freckle past a hair.”

“What’s that code for?”

“It’s code for never,” I snapped. “As in, it’s never going to happen. Not in your wildest dreams. So, why don’t you finish your drink and clear off across the road to another pub, because whatever you’re looking for, you won’t get it from me.”

“Prick-tease.”

Beyond repulsed, I wandered to the far end of the bar, putting as much space between us as possible. The man made my skin crawl, and the sooner Julie came back from her break, the better.

A few minutes later, he crooked his finger and pointed to his empty glass.

Biting back the urge to scream, I begrudgingly returned to his end of the bar and gave him a blank stare.

Teddy slammed another fistful of coins down on the bar. “Another.”

Counting his coppers, I moved to the till and tossed them inside before pouring him another glass of his poison of choice.

Whiskey.

“You know he’s a disaster, don’t ya?” Teddy slurred, nursing the glass I set down in front of him. “Can’t help himself. It’s in his blood.”

I knew that he was talking about Joey, but I refused to play ball with him. Regardless of our current relationship status, or how badly Joey had hurt me by walking away, I was prepared to die on my hill of unwavering fealty to him.

“The boy is fucked in the head,” he continued, taking a sip from his glass. “Always has been. Been a problem from day one.”

“I wonder why.”

He glared at me with those cold eyes. “You think you know everything, don’t ya?”

“I know enough,” I held my ground and replied.

“You know fuck all.” A cruel smile spread across his face. “He’s either going to end up killing himself or someone else.”

“Then let’s hope it’s you.”

My response surprised him, and he rose a brow. “You’re not afraid of me, are ya, girl?”

“I don’t fear men,” I tossed back, meeting his stare head-on. “Because the man in my life knows how to treat a woman.”

“Already told ya that young fella of mine is still a boy.”

“He’s more of man than his father.”

Realizing that I had no intention of giving into his oppression, Teddy dismissed me from his presence with a flick of his wrist, muttering something unintelligible under his breath.

More relieved than angry, I once again moved to the other end of the bar, sighing in relief when my eyes landed on Julie returning from her smoke break.

“Oh good, he’s still here.” Setting her pack of cigarettes under the bar, she fluffed out her hair and smiled. “Something to look at for the evening.”

I knew she was referring to Teddy and the thought made me want to hurl my lunch up.

To the untrained eye, it could be assumed that he was a beautiful man.

He was tall and blond, with golden skin, and a strong, muscular physique, but once you knew who he was, once you got a glimpse of the evil lurking beneath the surface, you could never mistake his looks for beauty.

How he fathered five pretty epic humans was beyond me, but he had, and all four of his sons bore an uncanny resemblance to him. Shannon was the exception to the gene pool, clearly taking after Marie in appearance.

My mind drifted back to Joey and the resentment weighing heavily on my shoulders significantly lightened.

Being in the presence of his father, a man Joey had to endure his entire life, caused my skin to crawl and my resolve to weaken.

How could I be angry at him for trying to fight against turning into the piece of shit propping up the bar?

He was terrified of us becoming his parents, of becoming the man at the end of the bar and had taken drastic measures to stop that from happening.

To protect me.

Telling me that he loved me on the phone earlier wasn’t right, he should be keeping that shit to himself, but I’d be a liar if I said it didn’t soothe the ache in my chest.

Just a smidge.

“Are you pregnant?” was the first question my mother asked when I walked through the door on Friday evening after work.

“Am I what?” I asked, dropping my bag on the kitchen table, and turning to gape at my mother.

“Pregnant,” she repeated, setting her iron down. “You can tell me if you are, Aoife.” Wiping her hands off on her trousers, she stepped around the ironing board and closed the space between us. “I won’t shout at you, love, I promise. But I would rather know now than later on.”

“No, I’m not pregnant,” I snapped, shrugging off my coat before hanging it on the back of the kitchen chair.

“But you are sexually active.”

“Oh my god,” I groaned, kicking off my heels. “What are you going on about, woman?”

“You’re having sex.”

I gave her a look that said, ‘how dare you even suggest such a thing’, before adding, “And even if I was having sex, which I’m absolutely not, I’m on the pill, remember? You took me to get it when I was fourteen.”

“To help with your heavy periods,” she reminded me. “Not because I was giving you the green light to have sex with Paul.”

“And I didn’t have sex.” Shrugging sheepishly, I added, “With Paul.”

“But you are now.” She offered me a supportive smile. “With Joey.”

I snorted. “No.”

Mam cocked a brow. “Do you think that I came down in the last shower? It’s not your father that you’re talking to. Don’t try to pull the wool over my eyes, young lady. I know well what happens when that boy sleeps over.”

“Oh my god.”

“If you’re sexually active with young Joey, then there’s no need to hide it from me,” she continued. “You’ve been together for a while. I’m not mad, love. I’m just concerned. “

“And so what if I am having sex with him?” I choked out, blushing. “I’m not fourteen anymore, Mam. I’m eighteen, remember?”

“That’s fine,” she replied, voice strained. “Thank you for telling me.”

“You’re…welcome?”

“Now, are you being safe?”

“I’m on the pill,” I repeated slowly. “How much safer can I get?”

“Condoms.”

I scrunched my nose up in awkward discomfort.

Mam’s eyes widened. “Aoife.”

“What?” I threw my hands up. “We’re being safe.”

“So, you’ve been taking your pill at the same time every day?” she pressed, tone laced with concern. “Religiously?”

I balked. “Why are you even asking me all of this?”

“Because you’re moody, you’re spending all of your time holed up in your room, you’re eating like a horse, and you look like you’re seconds away from bursting into tears at any given minute.”

“And that makes me pregnant?” I demanded, hands on my hips. “What’s next; are you going to tell me that I’ve put on weight, too?”

“Aoife.”

“No, Mam, Jesus, I’m not pregnant.” Shaking my head, I stalked over to the fridge and swung it open. “I had a period before Christmas.”

“You did?”

“Yes.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yes, Mam.” I rolled my eyes. “I specifically remember because I’d been out shopping with Casey that week and didn’t buy this really cute white skirt from The Modern to wear out for Katie’s birthday – even though it was a total bargain at a tenner – because I knew I couldn’t risk wearing it.”

Relief flooded her eyes. “Oh, thank god for that.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence, by the way. I really appreciate how much faith you have in my ability to not ruin my life.” I waved a hand around aimlessly. “I hope you plan on giving Kev the same supportive pep-talk, because he’s a moody bastard who rarely leaves his room, either.”

“Don’t be daft.” Mam batted the air like it was the most ridiculous thing she had ever heard. “Your brother can’t bring a grandchild home to me in his belly.”

“And you think that Joey and I are thick enough to?”

“I think that you’ve both been swept up in the throes of first love.” Both her eyes and her voice softened when she added, “And I think that a lot of mistakes can be made when emotion takes the driving seat over logic.”

“Well, that shows what you know,” I replied, slamming the fridge closed. “Because Joey and I aren’t even together right now.”

“You’re not?” Her eyes widened. “Oh, I didn’t know, love.”

“Well, now you do,” I said flatly, moving for the door. “I’m nursing a broken heart, Mam, not your grandchild in my belly.”

“Aoife?” she called after me. “Wait, pet, we can talk about it if you want? I’m here for you, love.“

“I don’t want to talk about it,” I tossed over my shoulder, as I thundered up the staircase.

I can’t.