JOEY

MY HEART WAS THUNDERING in my chest the rest of the way to her house, and that thundering sensation only increased when Trish opened the door to me.

“How is she?”

Her mother’s eyes were full of concern when she stepped aside and gestured for me to come in. “I think she could use her partner in crime.”

I could hear AJ crying the minute I stepped inside, but that crying only intensified with every step I took to her bedroom door.

I didn’t knock, because I didn’t see the point. Instead, I quietly slipped inside and closed the door behind me.

Sitting on the bed, cradling the tiny blonde head of curls, Aoife rocked and sobbed. “Mam, I can do it.”

“Hey, queen.”

Her breath hitched and she turned to look at me. “Hey, stud.”

Hands shaking, I closed the space between us and sat down on the edge of the bed beside her. “What’s happening, baby?” I coaxed, reaching for the screaming baby. “Why are you crying?”

“I’ve done everything,” she strangled out, hands hanging limply at her sides when I shifted the baby into my arms. “He’s fed, changed, and winded, and he won’t stop.”

“Okay,” I coaxed, settling him into the crook of my arm so that I could wrap my arm around her shoulders. “You’re okay.”

“I’m not, okay, Joe,” she sobbed, twisting sideways and burying her face in my neck. “I’m not okay. I can’t do this.”

“Yeah, you can,” I whispered. “All you need to do is sleep. Just lie down and get some sleep, Molloy. I’ll handle everything.”

“I need to be able to do it myself.”

“You’re already more than able,” I coaxed. “You’re just running on empty here. He needs you to sleep. That’s the best thing you can do for the both of you right now.”

Finally complying, she curled up in a small ball on her bed and closed her eyes, still sobbing as she slowly drifted to sleep.

With the baby cradled in my arms, I slipped out of her room, and padded down the stairs, moving to the kitchen to where the sterilizer was located.

“She’s been trying to nurse, but it’s not coming easily,” Trish said when I stepped into the kitchen. “It’s all getting on top of her.”

“Trish, I know you have the best of intentions, but I need you to lay off the breastfeeding talk.”

“I’m only trying to help my daughter.”

“I get that, but she’s exhausted,” I replied evenly, trying not to step on toes, but needing to take control of this shitstorm before it got out of hand. “She can’t do it right now, and quite frankly, her mental health is a hell of a

lot more important to me than whether or not my son is breastfed. AJ will continue to thrive on formula, but Aoife won’t, and I need you to tell her it’s okay to do what’s right for her.”

She seemed to consider what I said before releasing a heavy sigh. “I suppose I have been championing her going down the nursing route.”

“And that’s grand,” I assured her, as I one-handedly prepped a bottle. “But she’s having a hard time getting through this, and we need to make it as easy as possible for her.”

“I agree.”

“Good.” Nodding, I exhaled a relieved sigh. “Listen, Trish, I know you and Tony don’t exactly trust me right now, and I don’t blame you, but I can’t leave the two of them here and just walk away. I can’t do it. They need me.”

“Yes, they do.”

“I want them to come and live with me.”

“Absolutely not,” her mother replied, exactly as I predicted. “You’re welcome to stay and help with the baby as much as you want, but they’re staying with me.”

Deciding now was not the time to poke the bear, I relented, content that I had planted the seed. “I’ll take him in the sitting room for a bit, if that’s okay. Let her get some sleep.”

“Of course.” “Thanks.”

Switching on the television for background noise, I settled down on the

couch with AJ resting on my shoulder.

“You’re grand,” I coaxed, patting his back to break his wind. “But you need to steady up on the drama. Your poor mam is wrecked from ya.”

He pulled his knees up and released another furious squawk.

“Yeah, I know,” I coaxed, upping the pace of the patting. “You need to take a big shit, don’t ya? Come on, big man. Get it out. Daddy’s here.”

Several minutes ticked by and then I felt a sudden flush of heat against my hand, along with an impressive five-second-long fart.

“That’s my lad,” I praised, pulling him back to look at me. “Did you leave me a present?”

Looking like butter wouldn’t melt now that his pain was gone, AJ looked right at me, squinting and grimacing, as his pouty lips formed a perfect little o-shape.

“Where does your mammy keep your nappies down here?” I muttered more to myself than him, as I searched for supplies. Finding them in a changing bag at the side of the couch, I laid him down and set to work.

“You’re a little pro at the nappy changing, aren’t you?” Trish mused, strolling into the sitting room and setting a mug of coffee on the table beside me. “None of this is new to you, is it?”

“I’ve had a lot of practice,” I replied, switching out nappies, as I cleaned and changed my baby son.

“Call me if you need anything.” I wouldn’t.

Settling him back into the crook of my arm, I placed the teat of the bottle

I had prepped to his lips and smirked when he sought it out, lips smacking wildly.

“Good job,” I whispered, snuggling him in close. “Get your chops around that.”

Thirty minutes later, AJ’s bottle was drained dry and he was out for the count on my chest.

Setting to work on a task I honestly could do blindfolded, I went through the motions of winding my son before changing his nappy again and settling him back down to continue his snooze. With the sound of soft snuffling snores filling my ears, I stared down at him, feeling my heart hammer harder with every breath I took.

Fear channeled its way up inside of me and I instantly began to worry about his future.

Would he have the same failing – the same defected genes – as his father? As his grandfather?

Did I curse this baby?

Was he going to grow up all fucked up in the head because I was his father?

Jesus, I hoped not.

The thought of him feeling about me the way I felt about my own father made it hard to breathe. It made me want to run and drown myself in whatever I could get my hands on.

I must have sat there for a solid hour, eyes glued to his blond head, praying to whatever was up there to skip over my child and give him a fair shot at life.

A fighting chance.

Vowing more than I could ever give, I offered it all up for this kid.

Promising the sun, the moon, and the stars for life to give him all the good in exchange for whatever was left inside of me.

When he stirred a little while later, I pressed a kiss to his hair and cuddled him closer to me.

Be like her, I mentally begged my sleeping son. Please don’t turn out like

me.

 

 

“JOEY,” Tony acknowledged later that night when I walked into the kitchen and found him and Trish sitting at the table for their nightly chat. “How’s that grandson of mine?”

I’d spent enough time in this house to know that every night before bed, Molloy’s parents shared a pot of tea at the kitchen table and dissected the day’s events. It was a stark contrast to what happened at the kitchen table in the home I’d been raised in.

“No fear of him,” I replied, adjusting my sleeping son in the crook of my arm. “Fed like a lord and out for the count.”

“And my daughter?” he asked, gesturing towards a chair at the table. “Overtired. Overworked,” I replied, moving for the chair. “And really

fucking overwhelmed.”

“Come to Nana,” Trish cooed, snatching AJ out of my arms and cuddling him to her chest.

“Jesus,” Tony muttered, rubbing his jaw. “Never thought I’d say it after what you put her through, boyo, but I’m glad you’re here.”

“Yeah.” I nodded, not taking his words to heart. “Me, too.” “It’s just the baby blues,” Trish interjected. “It’ll pass.”

“I don’t know, Trish,” Tony said, worrying his lip. “What if it’s the other thing?”

“The other thing?”

“The depression after having a baby?”

“Tony, it’s only been a few days since she gave birth, love. Give the girl a chance to adjust. She doesn’t have postnatal depression,” his wife tried to soothe. “She’s just shattered.”

“My mam had really bad postnatal depression after Sean,” I decided to throw out there. “It was… not good.”

“Is that what you think is happening here?” Tony asked, imploring me with his eyes to give him the answers. “With my daughter?”

“No, not right now,” I replied, choosing my words carefully. “But I think we need to have a conversation about what needs to happen next.”

“No.” Trish, quick to catch on, shook her head. “I told you before, Joey, you’re welcome to stay here, but she’s not moving in with you.”

Biting back my frustration, I focused on Tony. “I have my own place – an annex on the Kavanaghs’ property. It’s safe. It’s secure. It’s completely mine. If Aoife comes to live with me, I can be there for her to help with AJ. I can give her the support she needs.”

“She already has support,” Trish argued. “I’m right down the hall, for Christ’s sake. I’m on call 24/7 if she needs me.”

“It’s not the same thing,” I pushed, surprised with how even-toned I sounded. “I know you mean well, and I’m so fucking grateful for everything you’ve done for them, but I need to be with my family.”

“Joey, I love you, but I’m not having this conversation,” Trish growled. “My daughter is not moving in with you.”

“I understand that —”

“You are just out of rehab,” she spat. “You are barely three months clean. Now, don’t get me wrong because I am absolutely rooting for you, but you are hardly the stable solution here.”

“I fucked up,” I held my hands up and admitted. “Spectacularly. I let your daughter down and I put her through hell. I’m not denying it, and I’m not excusing it. But I am standing over it.” Repressing the urge to growl, I drummed my fingers on the table, willing her parents to just hear me. “I love your daughter, Trish. I always have. And yeah, I’m the first person to admit that I haven’t always shown it in the ways she needed me to – in the ways you needed me to, but I fucking love her.”

“Joey.”

“I can do this,” I continued to argue. “I can look after Aoife and AJ. I can, Trish, and what’s more, I will. We’re a family. We’re going to be together, and that’s not going to start when you decide that I’m stable enough. It starts now.”

“And where does Tommen fit into this?” Tony asked. “You’re at school by day. Aoife will be on her own in this annex with the baby until you get home in the evenings?”

“And what about when she goes back to BCS in a couple of months?” Trish interjected. “What do you propose then? With you two attending different schools? I’m going to mind AJ for her while she attends her classes. We have it all organized. How does that fit in with your plan?”

“That’s another thing I wanted to talk about.”

Trish narrowed her eyes in warning. “My daughter is finishing her education and I don’t want to hear a word of protest.”

“I couldn’t agree more,” I told her. “Aoife needs to finish school.” Trish visibly sagged in relief. “Good.”

“Just not at BCS.”

Her eyes narrowed again. “Joey Lynch, if you even think about putting notions in her head, I will —”

Her words broke off when I reached into my pocket and laid the cash on the table in front of them.

“What in the name of Jesus?”

“Where did you get that kind of money?” “My grandmother.”

“How much is there?”

“There’s fifteen grand,” I said calmly. “Four thousand of that is for Aoife’s tuition for Tommen.” I swallowed deeply and looked her parents in the eyes. “Let me do this for her.”

“Joey.” Trish’s eyes were wild with panic. “She doesn’t even want to go back to school. If you heard the fights we’ve had about her returning to BCS.” She shook her head. “She’s fighting me tooth and nail on this.”

“I’ll be with her at Tommen,” I pushed, sensing her mother’s resistance falter, and going in for the kill. “Nothing has to change regarding AJ’s childcare. If you’re willing to look after him for us while we’re at school, then I would be so fucking grateful.”

“You want her to go to Tommen?” That was Tony. “Private school?”

“I can’t get back into BCS. If I could follow her there, I would,” I told him. “But Tommen is the only school willing to take me.”

“And she’ll follow you anywhere,” he answered for me.

“It’s a good school,” I added. “She would get the best education there.”

“Well, shit.” Leaning back in his chair, Tony rubbed his jaw. “You have this all thought out, don’t ya, boyo?”

I shrugged, not bothering to deny it.

“And what about Aoife?” he asked then. “What is she saying about this?” “I haven’t spoken to her about it,” I replied. “I wanted to run it by you

first.”

“Hm.”

“No, Tony, I don’t want her to move out,” Trish was quick to protest. “It’s not the right time.”

“Trish,” he sighed heavily. “It’s not about what we want, love. Not anymore. She’s over eighteen.” His gaze flicked to AJ and emotion flashed in his eyes. “And the boy’s right. They’re a little family.”

“And if he lets her down again?”

“I’ve a shovel in the backyard that we can use to bury him with.”

 

 

JERKING awake in the middle of the night, Molloy sprang up in a panic, immediately seeking out our baby.

“AJ’s fine,” I whispered in the darkness, gently pulling her back down. “I just checked him. He’s sleeping.”

Sagging in relief, she twisted onto her side to face me and expelled a shaky breath. “Have you slept?”

I shook my head. “Why not?”

“I’m sort of…battling something here.”

“Her ghost?” I nodded.

“Joe.” Her hand was on my cheek then. “Tell me what’s going on in that head of yours.”

“It hurts.” “Where?”

“Everywhere.”

She watched me and I watched her right back. I wanted to be closer to her than my own skin. The connection I felt to her was overwhelming when I was high but now that I was sober, it was so strong that I could hardly stand it.

After watching her give birth, after witnessing the inhuman strength she possessed, I knew I would never be worthy of the girl.

“Here?” she finally asked, reaching a hand out to trail over my chest. She pressed her palm to the skin covering my heart. “In here?”

I nodded slowly.

“And here?” she asked, trailing her fingertips over my temple. “In here?”

Shuddering, I moved to snatch her hand up, desperate for the physical contact.

“I’m proud of you, Joe.”

“You are?”

Smiling softly, she trailed her fingers down my neck before placing her hand back down on my chest. “I am.”

“I don’t deserve it.”

Wordlessly, she took my hand in hers and placed it to her chest. “Feel that?”

“Yeah.” Her heart was hammering violently against my palm. “I feel it.” “That’s you,” she whispered. “That’s what you do to me.”

“Still?”

“Then. Still. Always.” “Aoif…”

“No more chances, Joe,” she croaked out, eyes filling up with tears. “This is the last one, okay?”

“Yeah,” Nodding, I blew out a ragged breath. “It’s the last one I’ll need.” “I mean it,” she added. “You screw up again and we’re done. One more

time and I’m gone. I’m out of your life and there’s no way back.” She eyed me

warily. “I can’t risk his safety.” A shiver rolled through her. “I won’t put us

before our son.”

“I don’t want you to,” I strangled out, breathing hard and fast as the prospect of having her back in my life danced before my eyes. “He comes first.”

“Before drugs?”

Swallowing the lump in my throat, I nodded stiffly. “You both come first.”

“I know it won’t be easy for you.”

“No, it won’t,” I agreed. “But I’m making you and him my first priority.” “I don’t want you to drink either,” she blurted out. “If that’s a hard limit

for you then you need to say so now. I know you’re not alcohol dependent,

but I can’t risk you losing your head. I —”

“I get it,” I hurried to soothe. “And I agree. I won’t drink. I know what’s at stake.”

“I want to keep you alive, Joe,” she breathed, looking into my eyes. “I need you alive.” Chewing on her bottom lip, she glanced at the bassinet next to her bed. “I don’t want to do this on my own.”

My heart cracked in my chest.

“You won’t have to,” I vowed, finding strength in having someone need me again.

I needed that, I suddenly realized. I needed to be needed.

I was programed to take care of the people I loved. Not having that made me feel off-balance.

Maybe that was unhealthy, but I’d take it over sticking needles in my veins any day of the week.

“Good,” she sniffled. “Now kiss me and make it worth it.”

Wholeheartedly complying with her wishes, I leaned in and brushed my lips against hers, shivering when I felt the familiar jolt of excitement shoot through me at the feel of her lips on mine.

Shivering, she wrapped her arms around my neck and whispered the words, “Ride or die, Joe.”

My heart gunned ferociously in my chest, because I knew she meant it, and when I whispered the words, “Ride or die, Molloy,” I knew I meant it, too.

More than anything.