Needing 13 - Johnny Kavanagh

I'M SORRY, I LOVE YOU

TARA

"Where's my sister?" I asked Gregory when I spotted him outside, leaning against the wall, puffing on a smoke.

"You don't know?" He looked up at me, startled, the cigarette dangling from his lips. "She was gone this morning. Coach got the wrong idea when he caught your sister and Johnny in Royce's locker room."

My blood ran cold. "What happened?" I demanded, my heart already hammering, one horrible thought after another racing through my mind. Shannon was a minor, and any trouble she got into during school hours or at Tommen would be a direct line to our father.

"Gerard, tell me right fucking now what happened, and don't leave out a single detail."

Gregory must've clocked the seriousness in my face, because he flicked the smoke away and straightened up. "Shannon asked me to help her sneak into the locker room. She knew about Johnny's injury, and since he mentioned your bandages, she thought she could help him. But they had shite luck. Coach walked in just when Johnny had his rugby shorts down, and Shannon was kneeling in front of him. Coupled with all the rumours going 'round Tommen about them being a couple... well, Coach put two and two together—and got the wrong idea."

Fuck.

Yanking out my phone, I dialled Joey, hoping to God he would answer. But it went straight to voicemail. Fuck. "Joe, keep Shannon out of the house, and call me when you hear this, please."

I hung up and clenched my jaw. "I've gotta go," I said to Gregory, already pulling out my bike keys from my sweatshirt front pocket. "Tell Jonathan something came up and I had to leave. I'll swing by to see him sometime this week, alright? And for the love of Christ, don't even think about taking him to a fucking park, Gregory. I'll know."

"Tara," he called after me, his voice making me pause in my tracks. I turned to look at him, eyebrows raised. "Johnny's birthday is in May."

"I know. Why?"

"Because I hope to see you there. You have to be there. You and little Shannon. Alive, ya hear me?"

Gregory wasn't thick. He'd figured out more about my life than most, especially the shit that went down behind closed doors at Elk's Terrace. It had come out one afternoon when I was teaching him to swim. A few beers later, and maybe I let more slip than I should've. Or maybe he just pieced it together.

"Avoid my house these weeks, Gerard," I told him, my voice firmer but quieter. "Make up whatever excuse you need, hang out with the lads, whatever. But under no circumstances—none—bring Jonathan near my house."

The look on his face said he understood. We didn't need to say more.

I bolted across the car park, legs pumping, heart racing, and made a beeline for my bike. My breath came in short, sharp bursts as I yanked on my helmet, barely taking the time to secure it properly before swinging my leg over the seat. The roar of the engine drowned out everything else as I tore off toward the motorway, tires screeching, leaving a cloud of dust in my wake. I had to get home before Shannon. I had to get to him first, or she'd pay the price for my mistakes.

This was all on me—every bit of it.

It was my decision to keep things with Jonathan under wraps.

It was my decision to sneak around, meeting him in his car, his house, or the locker room at the Academy.

It was my decision to act like we were just friends in front of everyone else.

And now, because of my selfishness and the choices I made, my little sister was going to suffer for it.

The guilt twisted in my gut, threatening to choke me as I sped down the road, engine humming beneath me. At the next red light, I grabbed my phone with shaky hands, fingers flying over the screen.