Keeping 13: Chapter 16
Feeling completely exposed, I sat in the backseat of Gibsie’s car with Johnny and Gibsie in the front and Claire and Joey beside me. The radio was off, not one single word had been uttered since we pulled away from my house, and if I had a knife at my disposal, I was fairly sure I could have cut the tension enveloping the five of us.
Joey was sprawled across the back seat, with his legs on top of Claire and his head in my lap. To her credit, Claire didn’t complain or shove him off her. Instead, she proved the theory I had that she was the kindest person in the world by removing her coat and draping it over his trembling body.
Numb, I kept my eyes glued to his face, watching as his features contorted every time Gibsie hit a pothole or took a sharp turn. ‘You’re so stupid,’ I whispered, gently pushing his blond hair out of his eyes. ‘Do you hear me? Hanging around with Shane Holland and his friends again? You know he’s bad news for you. They don’t care about you, Joey. They never did. They only care about what they can get from you. They’ll bleed you dry.’ I stroked his cheek, my fingers tracing the discoloration on his face. ‘God, I’m so mad at you, Joey.’
‘Shan.’ Groaning, he clenched his eyes shut and stiffened. ‘Fuck.’
‘Yeah, fuck,’ I muttered, wrapping an arm around him when Gibsie took the turn-off for Johnny’s house. ‘What did you take?’ I leaned closer, keeping my voice low. ‘I know you’re drunk, and I can smell the weed off you, but there’s more, isn’t there? What was it? What did they give you?’
He groaned again and clutched his stomach. ‘Sorry.’
‘Stop saying sorry and start telling me what you took!’ I hissed. ‘Was it tablets or something more? Joey, tell me, dammit!’
‘Please don’t hate me,’ was all he replied, his words a muffled slur as he shook violently in my arms.
Devastated, I glanced around the car and felt my cheeks burn in embarrassment. Gibsie and Johnny were both staring straight ahead and Claire was dutifully looking out the window, but I knew they were listening to us. They couldn’t not.
Tightening my hold on my brother, I remained silent for the rest of the journey, holding back the emotions threatening to overpower me, as I debated the bleak future that was laid out in front us.
No money.
Shitty parents.
Painful memories.
Fear and resentment.
Always the fear…
By the time we pulled up outside Johnny’s house a little while later, I was completely disheartened and beginning to understand my brother’s need to just forget for a while. I knew that’s why he did this. Escape and forget…
Killing the engine, Gibsie climbed out and walked around to Claire’s door. ‘Kav, give Claire your keys to unlock the door,’ he instructed, helping Claire out from underneath my brother’s body. ‘You good, Claire-bear?’
‘All good, Gerard.’
Johnny, who was outside the car and wrestling with his crutches, slipped a hand into his pocket and retrieved a set of keys before tossing them over the bonnet and pulling my door open. ‘It’s the silver one – in the middle.’
‘On it.’ Snagging the keys mid-air, Claire rushed ahead of Gibsie to unlock the door.
‘Thanks,’ I croaked, out as I scrambled out of the car and closed the door behind me.
‘Are you okay?’ Johnny asked quietly, watching my every move with sharp, intelligent eyes.
‘Where are your dogs?’
‘Huh?’
‘Bonnie and Cupcake?’
‘Oh right, yeah, they’re out back in their run.’ He gestured to his crutches and grimaced. ‘Can’t exactly fend them off at the moment.’
I shrugged, unable to form a response, and turned my attention back to Joey.
‘Okay, buddy, let’s do this.’ Reaching inside, Gibsie dragged Joey out of the car. Tossing him over his shoulder, Gibsie proceeded to carry my brother towards the house. ‘Don’t puke on my –’ The words weren’t out of Gibsie’s mouth when Joey began to vomit profusely what I could only describe as a black, charcoal substance. ‘Back.’ Gibsie groaned in defeat. ‘Don’t puke on my back.’
‘That’s a good thing,’ Johnny said, clearly noticing my horrified expression. ‘It’s better out than in.’
‘I am so sorry about this.’ Shaking my head, I wrapped my arms around myself and fell into step beside him as he hobbled towards the house. ‘I seem to bring a constant stream of trouble into your life.’
‘Don’t worry about it.’ Pressing a crutch against the door to keep it open, he gestured for me to go inside. ‘I’m growing fond of your trouble.’
‘You shouldn’t.’ Sadness was blooming inside of me; the cold, hard reality of my brother’s current predicament eclipsing the excitement I had felt when I saw him at my door earlier. ‘It’s not a good thing.’
Johnny frowned but didn’t object. ‘Come on,’ he said instead, inclining his head towards the entry hall.
I hurried inside from the rain, too worn out to worry or ask questions that I didn’t need the answers to. It didn’t matter if his parents were home or not. It didn’t matter if my insecurities made me question whether he truly wanted me here or not.
The facts were my brother had taken some type of illegal drug, probably an obscene amount of illegal drugs, and was currently being carried up the staircase of Johnny’s house. Whether I was mad with him or not was quite frankly irrelevant. He needed me and I would be there.
God knows, I owed him one.
‘Do you want to tell me about it?’ Abandoning his crutches, Johnny held on to the bannister and climbed the stairs at a snail’s pace. ‘Joey, I mean?’ he added, stopping, mid-step. ‘What happened back there?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘Don’t lie,’ Johnny said quietly. ‘Not to me.’
Scrunching my nose up, I blurted, ‘He was going down a bad path last year. Hanging around all the wrong places with the wrong people, and accepting all the wrong kinds of things.’
‘Last year?’
I nodded. ‘Before Aoife came along.’
‘She steadied him up?’
Apparently not. I shrugged helplessly. ‘I thought so?’
‘What was he on?’
‘I don’t know,’ I replied, and this time it was the truth. ‘He was definitely going out drinking with his friends, and I know he was smoking weed, but I’m not sure about the rest. Maybe yolks? Like ecstasy or some form of tablet? I heard my parents talking about it once, and I’m not sure how he would get his hands on anything else. He wouldn’t have the money.’ I shrugged, feeling at a loss. ‘But I know he used to go off in that car during big break at school and come back for the last three classes with bloodshot eyes and a faraway look,’ I heard myself explain. ‘I think he was trying to escape? Things weren’t great, and it was his way of coping with what was happening at…uh…at…well, you know.’ Tucking my hair behind my ear, I let my shoulders sag in defeat. ‘It’s not like we had anybody to talk to about that kind of stuff.’
Johnny watched me carefully as I spoke, taking in every word I was speaking. ‘Was it a problem?’
‘I don’t know,’ I replied, sticking with the truth. ‘Joey doesn’t talk. Not to anyone. Not even me. All I know is things were bad for him, worse than usual, and he was getting into more fights at school.’ More fights at home. ‘He was having trouble at training. Our f-father –’ my throat bobbed and I had to swallow several times before I could continue, ‘well, he was furious because there was talk of Joey being thrown off the team. But then Aoife came along and within a few weeks he had cleaned up his act. He wasn’t walking around with bloodshot eyes or bouncing off the walls. He wasn’t fighting as much at school. He was just…’ I shook my head, trying to find the words to explain all of this. ‘She settled something inside of him. It was like she grounded him somehow – gave him something he clearly wasn’t getting from…’ I let my words trail off.
I didn’t need to finish that sentence. Johnny’s eyes were locked on mine and the word home hung heavily between us, unspoken and painful. Feeling exposed and vulnerable, I tore my eyes away and climbed the rest of the steps.
Concern roared to life inside of me as I watched Johnny struggle up the remaining steps. ‘Hey – are you okay?’ I asked when he finally reached me, jaw tight and shoulders rigid.
He stiffened, and for a moment, I expected the same cold brush off I was used to receiving when I asked him about his pain. But he surprised me by turning to face me. ‘I’m okay.’ His tone was soft, eyes gentle. Leaning against the bannister railing, he released another heavy sigh. ‘I’m sore,’ he offered with a small, vulnerable shrug. ‘I’m stiff, and I despise being slowed down, but I’m on the mend, okay?’
I studied his face, looked for the lies, and when I didn’t find any, I nodded. ‘Yeah, okay.’
‘What about you?’
‘Me?’
‘Yeah, you.’ Reaching out, he traced his thumb across my cheekbone. ‘How are you feeling?’
‘Same as you,’ I offered in a small voice, unable to suppress the shiver that rolled through my body when he put his hands on me. ‘Stiff and sore, but on the mend.’ I paused, thinking of something positive to say. ‘I can breathe again,’ I blurted and then cringed when I said it. ‘Sorry.’
Pain flickered in his blue eyes. ‘It’s killing me,’ he admitted, voice low and gruff. ‘Knowing what happened to you, seeing what that bastard did every time I look at your face, and not being able to fix it.’
I released a shaky breath. ‘Johnny.’
‘I’ve spent days waiting for this,’ he quickly hurried on, his words coming fast, his accent thickening as he spoke. ‘To get time with you. To just be with you, and now I have you here?’ His hand snaked out and entwined with mine. ‘Where I know you’re safe? All I want to do is just…’ Shaking his head, he pulled me closer. ‘Keep you right here with me and never give you back.’
Oh god, I want that, too.
I want you to keep me.
‘I know you have a lot of stuff going on in your life right now with your family, and there’s a shitstorm falling down around us,’ he added, voice gruff. ‘I know there’s a conversation we need to have, Shannon, an important one, but I just want you to know – no, I need you to know that I’m –’
‘A little help, Kav!’ Gibsie’s voice boomed down the landing. ‘We have a code puke situation going on in here.’
‘Jesus Christ,’ Johnny hissed, throwing his head back. ‘I can’t catch a bleeding break.’
‘I’m sorry,’ Claire croaked out as she barreled towards us, holding her stomach. ‘But I’m a sympathetic vomiter and that boy is spewing his guts up in there.’ Flustered, she gagged before adding, ‘Honestly, I’d love to help, really I would, but I had a heavy meal before I came here and if I stay in that room, it will be carnage.’
‘Oh god.’ Turning, I moved to go check on my brother, but Johnny tugged my hand and pulled me back to him.
‘Don’t go in there,’ he said, releasing my hand. ‘He doesn’t need his sister seeing him like that.’
‘Yeah, Shan,’ Claire agreed, coming to stand beside me. ‘Let the boys take care of him.’
‘He’s my brother,’ I countered shakily.
‘Your naked brother,’ Claire shot back. ‘Gerard had to take his clothes off because he’s covered in –’ She paused to gawk. ‘Ugh, it smells so bad. He needs a shower and you can’t do that in your condition.’Content © provided by NôvelDrama.Org.
‘You remember the layout of the downstairs?’ Johnny asked, directing his question to me. ‘Where everything is?’
I nodded, flustered. ‘I think so?’
‘Take Claire downstairs with you,’ he instructed calmly. ‘Make whatever you want in the kitchen or chill out in the sitting room. Whatever you want. Gibs and I will sort him out.’
‘Are you sure?’ I asked, not feeling very sure at all.
‘Positive.’ He gave me one last, final look and then walked stiffly in the direction of his bedroom. ‘I’ve got this.’
‘You know,’ Claire mused. ‘When I signed up for this jailbreak, I didn’t anticipate vomit.’ Wrapping an arm around my shoulders, she led me down the impressive staircase to the entrance hall. ‘Or penises.’
‘Penii,’ I corrected with a defeated sigh.
‘Huh?’
‘Mrs. O Leary, our science teacher, says that’s the appropriate plural.’ Not that it even mattered.
‘Oh.’ She scrunched her nose up at the notion. ‘Well, I don’t know anything about penii, I must have zoned out during class, but this house is amazing. It’s like…Mucross or something.’
‘That’s what I said,’ I whispered, taking comfort in having her with me.
‘He’ll be okay, Shan,’ she added quietly. ‘You both will.’
‘Yeah.’ I hope so.
‘Now, come on,’ she said, tightening her hold on me. ‘I want to know everything.’