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Well, he wasn’t shouting, which was a good thing because as sorry as I felt for Shannon’s brother, if he planned on speaking to my mother the way he spoke to me and Gibsie yesterday, I was going to lose my shit. There was a line in a man’s life that no one crossed. That line for me was my ma. No one fucked with her.

Pushing the kitchen door inward, I stepped inside with Shannon clutching my hand like a lifeline.

My eyes immediately sought out and landed on Joey, who was leaning against the utility room door, looking cornered and feral, and yet he was watching my mother with an almost reluctant curiosity. He was clearly all fucked up, coming down from whatever he’d taken, and there my mother was, heating up bleeding scones and talking to him about god knows what.

The most shocking thing of all was that I got the distinct impression that Joey was actually listening to her. Frowning, I studied him. Jesus, he wasabsolutelylistening to her.

Mam had her back to the door, not noticing Shannon’s or my presence, and was droning on about something or other. Joey, on the other hand, was concentrating so hard on whatever my mother was saying that he seemed oblivious to everything else around him.

“You know, love, I’m sure I’ve heard of that garage,” Mam said as she slid a plate of scones into the microwave and switched it on. “I’ll definitely bring the car down the next time it needs a service.”

“Really?” he asked her, voice low and uncertain. He pulled at his sleeves, twitching nervously. “You don’t have to.”

“I’d like to,” Mam responded as she pulled various pots of jam out of the overhead cupboard. “How long have you worked there?”

“Since I was twelve or thirteen,” he mumbled, shifting around uncomfortably, wary eyes still trained on my mother. “Been on the books since third year.”

Mam froze for a moment before quickly recovering. “That young?”

He shrugged unapologetically. “Needed the money.”

“And you like it?” she asked, reaching for the kettle. “Mechanics? That’s something you might be interested in pursuing after you’re done with school?”

He shrugged stiffly. “Money’s decent.”

“Well, I think you are a credit to yourself, Joey Lynch,” Mam coaxed, dropping a few teabags into the pot. “Working all those hours after school.” She filled the teapot with boiling water. “And in your leaving cert year.” She set the kettle down and beamed at him. “You should be so proud of yourself.”

Joey’s brow furrowed so deeply, he looked like he was in the throes of a migraine. “Why?”

“Why what, love?” Mam asked kindly.

“Nothing.” He shifted around again, pulling his sleeves down over his knuckles only to roll them back up a few moments later. “Doesn’t even matter.”

“I think it does,” Mam replied softly. “Say what you were going to say, love. I’m listening.”

“I, uh, I—” Joey’s wild green eyes flicked to me before swiftly shifting to Shannon. Instant relief engulfed his features. “Alright, Shan?” he croaked out, showing the first sign of genuine affection I’d seen since yesterday. “How’s it going?” I watched him watch her, his eyes roaming over her face, a mixture of guilt and pain flickering in his eyes. “You okay?”

“Hey, Joe,” Shannon replied in a tone thick with emotion. She nodded before adding, “Are you?”

“All good” was his response—his full-of-shite response because the lad was about as far fromgoodas anyone could get. “Kavanagh,” he said then, offering me a stiff nod. “Thanks again.”

“Joey,” I responded. “Anytime.”

Feeling the need to do something, I released Shannon’s hand and strolled toward my mother, grabbing the plate of scones from the microwave as I went. “These smell savage, Ma.”

Scooping one off the plate, I stuffed it into my mouth, ignoring the burn as it scalded my tongue, as I moved for the island. The scones did smell great, but that wasn’t why I was choking myself trying to stuff one down. It was because I wanted these two to fucking eat something.

“Manners, Johnny,” Mam scolded, and then in a much softer tone said, “Joey, Shannon, why don’t you both sit down and have some breakfast.”

Neither one moved. I glanced back at Shannon’s wary face and then to her brother, and my blood heated to the point of turning to lava in my veins.

Jesus Christ, what the fuck did those people do to these kids?

Dropping the plate down on the marble island top, I pulled out a stool, carefully sat down, patted the stool beside me, and then mentally counted down from five.

Four, three, two, one…

Like a skittish baby foal, Shannon moved her legs toward me, like I had hoped she would, and took the stool beside me. It took her three tries to hoist herself onto the stool, but unlike last time when we were alone, I didn’t move to lift her for two very obvious reasons.

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