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“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 willmurderme.”

“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 tohurt me.” Groaning, he added, “Tell them to book me a bloody bed. I’m going to need one.”

14

Jailbreak

Johnny

“Okay, we need to think this through,” Gibsie announced as he pulled onto the main road near my house. “Bring some sort of deflection with us—a carrot to dangle in case they turn us away.”

“A carrot?” I turned my head and glared at him. “The fuck are you talking about? We don’t need carrots and deflections, Gibs. We’re going to drive over to her house, park the car, and knock on the bleeding door.”

Gibsie rolled his eyes. “You have no tact. Here, pull my phone out. It’s in my pocket.”

“I don’t need tact,” I grumbled, but I did as he asked. He took the phone from my hands and I steered while he dialed. “You’ll get points on your license for this,” I muttered, grateful to be in control of something for once, even if it was only a steering wheel.

Gibsie grinned and pressed the phone to his ear. “Only if I get caught. Hey, how’s it going, babe? I need you to be outside in five…yeah, five minutes. Why? Because I’m picking you up, that’s why. Yeah, don’t waste time asking questions. Just put your coat on and meet me at the bottom of your driveway. It’s cold outside so wear the red one.” He grinned, clearly getting a mouthful down the line before saying, “I know you’re at home because I saw you watching me from my bedroom window earlier. Yeah, I know you stalk me, too. Yeah, you hate me. I know. I’ve heard it all before, babe. I love you, too.”

“We’re bringing Claire?” I asked when he ended the call.

Gibsie nodded. “It makes more sense than two lads showing up on their own.” Shrugging, he added, “Shannon’s her best friend, lad. She hasn’t been able to make contact with her since Dublin. Girl’s a nervous wreck over it all.”

I shrugged. “Fair enough.”

Five minutes later, we pulled onto Hughie and Gibsie’s street and were greeted by a scowling Claire, who was standing at the bottom of her driveway, holding a neon-pink umbrella to protect herself from the March downpour.

“What’s this about, Gerard? What’s the big emergency?” she asked, climbing into the back seat when Gibsie pulled up beside her. “Oh, hey, Johnny,” she added, softening her tone a little. “I hope you’re feeling better.”

“All good,” I replied, feeling uncomfortable knowing that she knew.

“Kav here has coerced me into driving over to Shannon’s house,” Gibsie said. “Thought you’d want to come.”

“I do.” Leaning forward, Claire poked her head between our seats. “But they won’t let you through the front door. I had Hughie drive me over there on Friday to see her, but her mother told me she was in bed.” Claire scrunched her nose up as she spoke. “She wouldn’t even hear me out, guys. She said Shan was too tired for visitors and just dismissed me.”

Fury raced through me. No goddamn way was I going to be dismissed by that woman or any member of their family.

“Simmer down, Cap,” Gibsie instructed calmly. It was only then that I noticed my knuckles had turned white from the force of clenching them. “We’ll see her.”

“You’re damn fucking straight we will.”

“I know she lives in Elk’s Terrace,” Gibsie said. “But that’s a huge terrace—”

“It’s 95—she lives at 95,” Claire and I said in unison.

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