Keeping 13: Boys of Tommen #2

Days had passed without a word from Shannon and I was going out of my mind with worry.

Between that and being banned from training and the gym, I was at a complete loss. Seriously, I had no fucking clue what to do with myself. I attended my physio and OT sessions, but without the distraction of my usual jam-packed schedule, my mood was worsening.

I also received a huge-ass bollocking, via phone, from my coaches at The Academy for putting my body at risk the way I had. What had seemed like a good idea at the time had come back to bite me in the ass. My doctors and coaches didn’t trust me anymore, and I knew that it would be a very long time before they would again.

It was depressing.

The one upside to my downtime, and I begrudgingly admitted this, was that my body seemed to be thriving with the rest, recuperating at a much more rapid pace than I had anticipated. I could move more freely now, and the bruising and swelling in my balls and groin that had plagued me since Halloween was slowly beginning to fade. It also didn’t hurt to take a piss anymore. I still wasn’t taking any chances on the whole pulling my dick thing, but the morning hard-on I sported on a daily basis didn’t cause me the discomfort it once had.

None of that consoled me because my entire focus was on Shannon.

Because of my father and his anal attitude towards upholding the law, I hadn’t been able to see her. Apparently, Shannon’s brother, Darren, had called my parents, making it clear, in no uncertain terms, that I wasn’t to return to the hospital.

I understood that my father dealt with this kind of thing on a daily basis, he was used to watching dysfunction unfold around him, but I wasn’t. This was personal for me – she was personal for me – and being kept in the dark was driving me insane.

My mother, the turncoat, was on my father’s side, but she had her own agenda. She didn’t want me going anywhere near Mrs. Lynch. Her back was up over the whole suspension threat and she didn’t want me going next to nor near a woman like that – her words, not mine.

Because of my inability to get myself from A to B since my surgery, I couldn’t get there without my parents’ help, leaving me pissed off and car-less.

Betrayed and sulking, I remained in bed for most of the week, ignoring my mother every time she popped her head around the door to check on me – which happened to be every twenty bleeding minutes – and mulling in my bad mood.

I was smothering inside my house. Fucking losing my mind with the restlessness inside of my body. I wasn’t used to sitting still and doing nothing. I was cranky and on edge, driven deeper into my own head with every passing day and no word from Shannon.

By the following Monday, I was resigned to my bad mood.

After an intense physiotherapy session with Janice this morning, followed by a further two hours in the pool, I was depressed and agitated. On the flat of my back, with Sookie tucked at my side, I wasted the rest of the day tossing a rugby ball into the air and catching it, all the while contemplating the worst possible scenarios that had been relentlessly plaguing me.

What if Shannon’s dad came back and he didn’t get prosecuted?

What if my body didn’t heal in time for the tour?

What if he came back and her mother took him back?

What if the coaches overlooked me for that Danny Miller kid from Galway?

What if she didn’t come back to school next week?

What if this was it for me?

What if she was put into care and had to change schools?

What if I played my last game in Dublin?

What if she got hurt again?

What if, what if, what if…

‘I should have kept her in this room with us, Sook,’ I muttered. ‘I should have kept her, period!’

My faithful Labrador’s response was to nuzzle into my side and yodel softly.This content © Nôv/elDr(a)m/a.Org.

‘Yeah I know, baby.’ Exhaling heavily, I tossed the ball across the room and wrapped my arm around her. ‘I fucked up real bad.’

‘Johnny, something’s come and Dad’s had to go back to Dublin,’ Mam’s voice filled the room moments before she arrived in my doorway. ‘Cillian called – you remember Cillian, don’t you, love? Cillian Moore?’

One of the blood thirsty solicitors who worked under my father? ‘Yeah, I remember him.’ Hotshot little fucker.

‘Well, there’s been some issue with a client’s bail hearing and your dad needs to be there to clear it up. Cillian was handling the case, but something’s popped up and your father is on better terms with Judge Ó Leary.’

I snorted loudly. ‘Glad to know where his priorities lie. As usual.’

‘Don’t be like that,’ Mam said with a sigh. ‘He spent half the night on the phone last night – again – calling around for your benefit.’

Arching a brow, I leveled her with a stare. ‘And?’

‘And nothing,’ Mam replied. ‘He’s not at liberty to discuss anything he found out with us – if he even found anything out.’ She sighed again. ‘You know all of this, Johnny.’

Not bothering to respond, I turned my glare to the ceiling above me.

‘He left some paperwork in his study and I need to drop it up to him,’ Mam continued to say. ‘I’ll only be a few hours – I’ll definitely be back tonight, but just in case, I’ve called Gerard to come over and keep you company while I’m gone. He knows you’re not to leave the house, love, so don’t even try and coax him into doing the wrong thing or there will be consequences for the both of you.’

My ears perked up at the sound of Gibsie’s name, and instantly, I was plotting mutiny.

I cared about a grand total of two things in my life. Rugby and Shannon. And right now, both had been taken away from me without warning. I was losing control of the reins of my own life and it was making me crazy. What the fuck was I supposed to do? Stay in my bed and take my medicine like a good little boy with a broken dick? I think fucking not.

‘Stay in bed,’ Mam added sternly. ‘Gerard can let himself in, so don’t trouble yourself with the stairs, love. And I know you said you’re not hungry, but there’s a pot of soup on the stove and some fresh bread rolls on the table if you’re feeling peckish later.’

Yeah, my mother might not have gotten the pram she wanted with my discharge papers from the hospital, but she had gained more control over my life than she’d had in years and she was exercising that newfound power. I was out of commission and she was thrilled to have me under her maternal watch 24/7.

‘Are you listening to me, Johnny?’ Mam pushed. ‘Did you hear a word of what I just said?’

‘I heard ya,’ I grumbled. ‘Gibsie’s coming over to babysit me because I, apparently, can’t be trusted to be left on my own for an hour.’ I rolled my eyes. ‘Even though I’ve taken care of myself for months on end without either one of my folks around.’

Mam rolled her eyes right back at me. ‘Don’t be such a drama queen.’

I gaped at her, resisting the urge to scream and prove her right.

‘Enjoy your trip,’ I said instead.

Mam arched a brow. ‘Enjoy your strop.’

Give me strength…

‘Goodbye, Mother,’ I bit out.

Mam smirked. ‘Farewell, my bouncing, baby boy.’

Jesus.

I waited until Mam had closed my bedroom door behind her before throwing the covers off myself.

Twenty minutes later, I was fresh from a shower and wrestling with a pair of jocks when my bedroom door flew inwards. ‘I’m so fucking bored,’ Gibsie announced, strolling into my room. ‘We’re on our Easter break and how am I spending it? Locked up in my room, studying for an exam I’m not even sure I can spell, let alone take next year, and all because you decided to break your dick and leave me alone.’ Dropping his overnight bag on the floor, he flopped down on my bed and exhaled a dramatic sigh. ‘You’re so selfish.’

‘Sorry for inconveniencing you,’ I grumbled as I balanced against the bathroom doorframe and tried to tuck myself in without causing harm. My stitches were healing nicely, but I was still sore and bruised. ‘I forgot it’s all about you, Gibs –’

‘Whoa, that’s a lot of swollen dick!’ Gibsie groaned, dropping a hand over his face. ‘You’re all there, aren’t ya, lad! Kind of wish I didn’t come over now. Feeling kind of emasculated. And a little hard done by. Maybe I should learn to knock –’

‘Stop talking,’ I muttered, settling the waistband on my hips. ‘You’re being all fucked up again and I need you to be normal for an hour.’

He arched a brow. ‘Only an hour?’

‘Gibs!’ I snapped, impatient.

‘Okay!’ He held his hands up. ‘I’m being normal.’

‘Good.’ I sighed. ‘Because I need you to take me somewhere.’

‘Oh, no, no, no.’ He sat straight up and pointed at me. ‘Bedrest, Johnny. For seven to ten days, lad.’

‘Yeah, and it’s been ten days,’ I shot back.

‘Nine days, if we’re being technical,’ he huffed as he stood up and began to pace. ‘And your mother specifically mentioned ten days bedrest when she called me earlier – not to mention the serious physical pain she would inflict on me if I so much as thought about aiding and abetting you in leaving the house!’

‘Well, I need to see her.’ Shrugging on the loosest pair of sweatpants I owned, I reached for a fresh t-shirt and quickly threw it on. ‘I can’t drive for at least another week, and they took my bleeding car keys, so I need you to take me.’

‘No can do,’ Gibs shot back with a firm shake of his head. ‘Mammy Kavanagh will have my balls and I’ll end up sharing a surgeon with you.’ He shook his head again to emphasize his displeasure. ‘I love you, buddy, but not that much.’

‘Come on, Gibs,’ I snapped, frustrated. ‘Help me.’

‘I’m always fucking helping you,’ he groaned.

‘Yeah,’ I deadpanned. ‘Because I’m always helping you right back.’

‘You need to let her family deal with this, lad,’ he said, tone serious. ‘I’m not joking around here, Johnny. You need to take a step back here. You told me what they said – how her mother warned you to stay away.’ He threw his hands up in despair. ‘So just stay away for a while. They obviously want to handle it themselves. Give her some space, and you’ll see her when we go back to school.’

‘And what if I don’t see her?’ I demanded. ‘What if she doesn’t come back to Tommen?’

‘Of course she’ll be back.’

‘How do you know?’

Gibsie rolled his eyes. ‘Maybe because she goes to school there!’

Sinking down on the bed, I exhaled a pained breath and tried to wrestle in my emotions before speaking again. ‘Listen,’ I began, slightly calmer now. ‘I’m not asking you to take me to the gym. I’m not going near a bleeding rugby ball, and I’m not asking you to lie for me.’ Looking him dead in the eyes, I said, ‘I am asking you to take me to her because I can’t fucking get there on my own. And I need to…and she needs me to…’ my words broke off and I pinched the bridge of my nose. ‘If you don’t help me and something happens to her, I swear, I’ll never forgive you for it, Gibs.’ I’ll never forgive me.

‘That’s emotional blackmail.’

‘That’s the only hand I have,’ I replied steadily.

‘She’ll kill me,’ Gibsie pointed out. ‘You do get that, don’t you? Your mother will murder me.’

‘I’ll take full responsibility,’ I countered. ‘Just do this for me, Gibs.’

‘Fine,’ he snapped, throwing his hands up. ‘Call your fucking doctors. Ask them if they’re familiar with surgery that involves removal of a woman’s high heel from someone’s asshole, because that’s what’s going to happen to me when I take her baby out of this house, Johnny. She is going to hurt me.’ Groaning, he added, ‘Tell them to book me a bloody bed. I’m going to need one.’