Saving 6: Boys of Tommen #3

MARCH 5TH 2004

AOIFE

I WAS in foul form when I got home from work on Thursday night.

Aside from the fact that my poor toes had been annihilated from spending six hours crammed into a pair of heels that deserved to be thrown into the nearest fire, I was soaked to the bone, too.

None of that would have bothered me, though, I reluctantly admitted to myself, if he had just shown up.

Joey had promised to walk me home after my shift finished, and I had waited outside the pub for over an hour, until the cold got the better of me.

In the end, he never showed, and I ended up walking home alone in the pouring rain, which wouldn’t have been so bad had my company showed up.

Since then, I’d sent him a couple of text messages, but had heard nothing in response.

Because I was dealing with Joey and not Paul, I found myself in unchartered waters.

When Paul hadn’t answered my texts or calls, I’d never given it a second thought.

When Joey didn’t answer, it made me want to curl up in a ball and rock.

Pathetic as it seemed, I’d grown ridiculously attached to the boy who refused to put a label on whatever it was that we were doing.

I didn’t push because, for the first time in my life, I was afraid to lose.

I didn’t feel like I had the upper hand in this relationship, with the advantage being he held my heart in his hands.

If Joey left, if he walked away from me, it would hurt.

It would cripple me, and that was a worrying realization.

I’d given so much power over to a boy who refused to call me his girlfriend.

No, instead, I was the friend he liked on an exclusive basis, but nobody could know.

Fuck my life.

Deciding to crack open the books, for once, I managed to complete a decent amount of my homework and overdue assignments for school, before I eventually sacked the books off for some Nathan Scott.

At least, when I wanted to see him, all I had to do was switch on the television.

Curled up in a ball on my bed, with a mini pack of Crunchie bars on my lap, I rewatched One Tree Hill for the hundredth time.

Dozing off a little after eleven, I slept restlessly, tossing and turning for most of the night until I was fully awakened around half one in the morning by the sound of knocking.

Laying perfectly still, I listened in the darkness as the knocking continued on my window, growing louder and then dwindling off for a moment before picking back up again.

Pissed off, because there was only one person that I knew could scale a two-story house, I threw the covers off and stalked over to the window. Pushing it open, I leaned over the sill and glared down at the bastard balancing on the roof of our garden shed like he was Houdini himself.

“What?”

The moment he realized I was up and looking at him, he quickly tossed away from him what I hoped was a cigarette butt, but knew in my heart wasn’t.

“Molloy.” A slow smile crept across his face. “Mol-fucking-loy.”

“Are you…” I narrowed my eyes, instantly suspicious. “Oh my god, you’re high.”

“Nuh-uh.”

“Uh-huh.” I rolled my eyes. “What did you take?”

“Hmm?”

“Drugs, Joey,” I snapped, feeling my breath hitch in my throat. “I know you’re after taking something.”

He shook his head. “No, I’m not.”

“I’ve known you since we were twelve, genius, I think I’d know when you’re high,” I whisper-hissed. “What did you take?”

“Nice legs.”

Not tonight, buddy.

“Fine, if you’re not going to be straight with me, you can leave.”

“I don’t wanna leave, Molloy.”

“Then what do you want?”

“What do I want?” Swaying from side to side, he held his hands up and shrugged. “Fuck if I know, Molloy.”

“Yeah, well, while you go on not knowing what you want, I’m going to sleep,” I said flatly.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa – where are ya going?”

“To bed, Joey.”

“Why?”

“Why?” I glared down at him. “Because it’s the middle of the night, and that’s what normal people do at night.”

“Oh right.” He frowned. “Yeah.”

“And because we have school in the morning,” I snapped. “You remember that place called school, don’t you?”

“Obviously.” Still swaying, I watched as his brow furrowed and confusion set in. “Am I in the doghouse again?”

Absolutely. “You tell me.”

He stared blankly up at me.

“Forget anything tonight?”

Again, he stared blankly.

“Goodnight, Joey,” I sighed in resignation and moved to pull my head back inside, when the mad bastard lunged.

Taking a running jump, he scaled the side of my house like a fucking cat, not stopping until he was holding onto the ledge of my windowsill. “Why am I in the doghouse, Molloy?”

“Do you have a death wish?” I hissed, wide-eyed, as he dangled from the side of my house. “Oh my god, get in here, you eejit.” Catching ahold of his arms, I helped to drag him through my window. “That was so fucking stupid,” I growled, when he was sprawled on his ass on my bedroom carpet. “Don’t ever do that again when you’re in this condition.”

Holding his thumb up in response, he remained perfectly rigid on the flat of his back on my bedroom floor.

“I’m just going to…take a breather down here for a bit.”

“Yeah, you go right ahead and do that, asshole,” I grumbled, climbing back onto my bed. “From now on, consider my bedroom floor to be your personal doghouse.”

“Hmm,” Joey slurred. “If you let me come out of the doghouse, I’ll let you cum on my face.”

“In your condition? Ha. I wouldn’t let you put a finger on me,” I snapped, pulling the duvet up to my neck. “Now, close your eyes and go to sleep.”

“Molloy?”

“Shh.”

“Molloy?”

“I’m sleeping.”

“Molloy?”

“What?”

“I lied.” He exhaled heavily. “I got high tonight.”

“Yeah, Joe, I know,” I squeezed out, clenching my eyes shut, as the pain in my chest splintered and stretched until I was hurting all over.

There was a long stretch of silence before he slurred, “Molloy?”

“What?”

“Do you hate me?”

No, I love you. “Go to sleep, Joey.”

Unable to close an eye, I saw every hour of the clock, as I remained rigid in my bed, with only the occasional soft snore from the boy on my bedroom floor to keep me company.

My heart hadn’t stopped pounding since he’d shown up at my window.

I was so mad at him for doing this to himself, but my anger paled in comparison to my concern.

This was serious.

He could die.

It was always a possibility when you played with fire like I knew he did.

I didn’t know what he had taken tonight, and I was almost afraid to find out.

Finally, around 05:30 in the morning, I felt myself slip into a fitful sleep.

When I woke up the following morning, it was to the realization that I had somehow managed to sleep through the alarm on my phone.

It was gone half nine when I woke, and I knew school had already started, so I just stayed where I was.

Feeling thoroughly depleted of energy, I remained bundled up under my covers, aimlessly watching the screen of my phone as the time ticked by.

Eventually the sound of a throat clearing, filled my ears and I groaned.

“Mam, before you start, I’m sick. I’m on my period,” I quickly called out, lying through my teeth, as I thought up the worst, most horrendous temporary ailment I could possibly have. “I’m after bleeding out in the night. It’s a blood bath in here. Honest to God, Mam, there isn’t a sanitary towel in the bathroom big enough to cope with the flow.“

“Yeah, it’s me, your mam left the house a while ago.”

Springing up, I threw the covers off to find Joey sitting on the chair next to my window, with his hood up and his hands in the front pocket of his hoodie – his usual stance.

I couldn’t hide the relief that expelled from my lungs in a shaky breath.

“Why are you still doing here?” I couldn’t hide the anger in my voice, or the hurt. “I gave you a place to sleep it off. No need to linger.”

He didn’t blanch at my words.

Instead, he continued to stare back at me. “I was supposed to meet you after work last night. I was supposed to walk you home, and I didn’t show up. I remember now.”

“Well, good for you.” I gestured to the window and glared. “See ya.”

“I’m sorry.”

“You’re not sorry.” I stared hard back at him. “You never say sorry, because you’re never sorry, remember?”

His green eyes remained locked on mine, unblinking. “I am this morning.”

“Well, this morning I’m too mad to accept it,” I countered, swallowing down a surge of emotion. “When you didn’t show up last night, or answer your phone, I thought you were hurt, or worse.” My voice cracked and I quickly steadied myself before adding, “But you weren’t hurt or worse. You just had a better offer.”

He swallowed the venom in my words, and didn’t even try to deny it, or fight with me.

I wasn’t sure if that made me feel better or worse.

When he made no move to leave, I shook my head, feeling at a loss.

“I know that you’re new to this,“ I waved a finger between us, “whatever you want to call what we’re doing, but this is the part where you either give me some bullshit explanation for why getting high was more important than sending me a goddamn text, or it’s the part where you leave.”

He didn’t budge.

He didn’t open his mouth to defend his actions, either.

“You’re absolutely right, Molloy.” With slow, stiff movements, I watched as Joey slowly dragged himself to his feet. “I should go,” was all he replied, and then shook his head. “I will go.”

“What?” Throwing off the covers, I sprang out of my bed and stalked towards him. “I wasn’t serious, asshole! I was being dramatic. You’re not going anywhere until we talk about what happened.”

“I’m really not in the mood to talk about it.”

“Well, I wasn’t in the mood to be woken up by your big, drugged-up ass jumping through my window, but here we are.” Planting my hands on my hips, I glowered up at him. “Well?”

“Well, what?” he said flatly, keeping his head down. “I think it’s pretty clear that I fucked up.”

Giving me his back, he moved for my window.

“Oh hell no.“ Lunging towards him, I quickly stepped in front of window and blocked off his escape route. “You don’t get to do that,” I warned. “You don’t get to walk out on me without an explanation for last night.”

“I got high!” he snapped. “Is that what you want to hear? Huh? I went out last night and I lost my fucking mind in the bottom of a bottle of vodka and a shit ton of pills.”

“Why?” I strangled out, feeling his words pierce through me like bullets.

“Why?” he hissed. “Why? Because that’s what I do, Molloy!” he snapped. “That’s fucking why. “

“Joey…”

“I know I messed up, okay? I know I let you down,” he spat. “But this is me, okay?” Knocking his hood down when he roughly dragged both hands through his blond hair, he hissed, “I am who I am, Molloy, and who I am is not good for you!”

That’s when I saw it.

The bloody eye-socket.

The burst lip.

The purple swelling down the entire left side of his cheek.

His beautiful face was completely mangled.

“Jesus…” Suddenly starved for oxygen, I sucked in a sharp breath and strangled out, “What happened to your face?”

‘Don’t ask me to say it,’ Joey warned, holding a hand up, as he slowly backed away from me. Never once did he take his piercing green eyes off mine as he moved, putting space between our bodies – and hearts. He was thrumming with tension now, visibly shaking with unrestrained fury. ‘Not when you already know.’

‘Joey, don’t walk away, okay?” I hurried to say, as I rushed to intercept him, stopping him from leaving through my bedroom door this time. “Just stay, okay? Just stay and talk to me.’

‘I can’t talk to you,” he spat, tensing when I grabbed ahold of his forearm. “That’s the whole point. I can’t fucking talk about it, okay? I’ve got too many people depending on me. I can’t talk.’ He blew out a ragged breath. ‘I don’t want to hurt you with my bullshit, but I know that I’m going to.”

I shook my head. “Joe…”

“You should want me to leave, Molloy,” he argued. “You shouldn’t be blocking the door, baby, you should be holding it goddamn open.”

“I’m not going to do that,” I warned, voice thick with emotion. “It’s not ever going to happen, so get that bullshit notion out of your head.”

“I’m a mess; in case ya haven’t noticed.”

“Yeah, I’ve noticed,” I shot back, curling my fingers around his wrist, as I pulled him back to me. “Do you see me running?”

“No, and thank fuck for that, because, contrary to how I act sometimes, I don’t want you to run,” he admitted gruffly, chest heaving. “I want time with you, Molloy. I do. I want to be all kinds of right for you. But I have walls and limits and boundaries, and the only way I can be with you, get close to you, is if you stay the fuck behind them!”

I opened my mouth to respond, but he got there before me.

“There are going to be times when I look like this, and I’m not going to be able to give you an explanation. I can’t give you the words, Molloy, because those words will cost other people too much.” Blowing out a ragged breath, he shrugged helplessly, arms by his sides. “So, you need to decide if you can live with that. Because this is my life. This is me, and I can’t change.”

Reeling, I absorbed his words, heard his plea, felt his remorse, and drowned in his pain. “I’m willing to do that for you, if you’re willing to do something for me in return.”

He eyed me warily.

He acted like nothing bothered him, when in truth, he was eaten alive by the pain and insecurity of his home life.

“The drugs, Joey.” Heart racing violently, I reached up and pressed my hand to his chest. “You told me once that you wouldn’t hurt me on purpose again but seeing you completely out of it last night hurt.”

“I’m not a saint, Molloy,” he replied gruffly. “You’ve always known what I am. I’ve never tried to hide it from you. I’ve never been a—“

“I’m not asking you to be a saint, Joey,” I hurried to say. “You’re right, I absolutely do know who you are, and I’m in, okay? I am all in with you. All I’m asking for in return is that you try to stay clean.”

“Try.”

“Yes, try.” I nodded slowly. “Just try, Joe. For me. That’s all I’m asking for.”

He was silent for so long that I thought he wasn’t going to answer me. But then, he released a ragged breath and pulled me into his arms. “Okay, Molloy,” he whispered, wrapping me up in his arms. “I’ll try.”