Page 238 of Keeping 13

How could he be so fearless?

“Mammy,” I sobbed when I saw her on her hands and knees behind Joey, clothes torn, face so swollen I could hardly see her eyes. Her jeans were on the floor and her t-shirt was ripped down the front. I could see her private parts. I didn’t understand any of this. Why was she naked? Why was there a bottle of baby milk spilled on the floor beside her? “Mammy–”

“Go back to bed, Shannon,” Mam sobbed as she scrambled to cover herself up. “I’m okay, baby.”

She wasn’t okay.

I was only eight years old, but I knew that none of this was okay.

“Leave him alone, Teddy,” Mam choked out, curling a hand around Joey’s ankle. “He’s just a boy.”

“He’s a fucking mistake,” Dad roared. “They’re all mistakes—and you’re the biggest one of the lot, Marie.”

“Then just go,” she wept. “Leave us be.”

“What did you say to me?” Dad asked, voice deathly cold.

“N-nothing,” Mam mumbled.

“Say it again,” Dad ordered.

“I didn’t say anything,” she choked out. “I’m sorry.” Cowering on the floor, she shook violently. “You know I love you.”

“That’s better,” he sneered. “Remember your fucking place, woman.”

“You don’t need to say sorry to him, Mam,” Joey growled, chest heaving from temper. “He’s the mistake.”

“You little shit.” Wiping the blood from his face, Dad stalked toward Joey. “I’m going to put manners on you—” His words broke off when Joey took another swing at him, slamming the hurley into the other side of his face. “Jesus Christ, boy!” he howled, clutching the other side of his head. “You’re a lunatic.”

“If I’m a lunatic, then you’re the fucking devil,” Joey hissed, tightening his grasp on his hurley once more. “Come at me again, old man. I fucking dare ya!”

“Joey,” Mam wept. “Please just go to bed…”

“Are you serious?” Joey choked out. “He was trying to make you—”

“Just go to bed, baby,” she sobbed. “You’re only making everything worse.”

“Worse?” Joey spluttered, looking wounded. “I’m trying to protect you!”

“What the fuck are you looking at?” Dad demanded, noticing me standing there. “Did I say you could come down those stairs, girl?”

Panicked, I shook my head and backed up until my back hit the fridge. “N-no, Daddy.”

“Then what are you doing down here?” he slurred, taking a menacing stagger toward me. “You think you’re a hero like that little cunt?” His hand shot out, gripping my arm. “You want to take a swing at me, too?” He shook me roughly, causing my head to snap back. “Mark my words, Marie, this runt will be as bad as you.”

“Get your hands off my sister,” Joey snarled, rushing at Dad.

Unlike before, Dad was ready for him. Keeping one hand wrapped around my arm, he caught Joey by the throat. “You’re a fiery little fucker,” Dad hissed, squeezing Joey’s throat hard enough to make him drop his hurley to pull at Dad’s hand. “Yeah, that’s right, boy. You’re not strong enough to take me on yet.”

“Back off,” Darren’s voice filled the air, commanding and deep, as he thundered into the kitchen. His eyes went straight to Mam and a shudder rolled through him. “You’re a fucking monster,” he choked out.

“Get out of here, Darren,” Dad barked. “You have a match in the morning.”

“A match?” Darren shook his head in outrage. “Let them go.” His hands were balled into fists at his sides and he was shaking violently. “They’re only children.”

“Then they should be in bed,” Dad barked. “Not down here interfering in my business.”

“Fu…ck y…ou,” Joey choked out, kicking and lashing at our father. “Ass…hole.”

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