Needing 13 - Johnny Kavanagh

THROUGH THE BLINDS

JOHNNY

"The sheer audacity," I snarled, pacing my room like a caged lion, my fists clenched at my sides. "Groping her with your filthy paws like you've some right over her, Johnny," I spat, mocking my dad's voice, the rage in me bubbling over. "Fuck you, Dad."

Sookie, sprawled on the floor with her head resting on her paws, looked up at me, her brown eyes following my every step, her ears twitching as I muttered to myself.

"Do I have filthy paws?" I asked, stretching my hands out to her, turning them over as if to inspect them. "Sure, my hands are a bit larger than average, but calling them paws? Jesus, bit much, don't you think?"

She huffed and stood, her tail giving a little wag before she padded over to the door. She scratched at it, her eyes darting back at me.

"What's wrong with you?" I asked, shuffling over to open the door. As soon as it was ajar, she bolted down the hall, stopping at the first door she reached. She turned, looking back at me, clearly trying to get me to follow. "Sookie, come back here, we're not meant to go in there!" I called out, but she paid no mind.

She nudged the door with her nose, and it cracked open a little, enough to tempt my curiosity. When did this door start opening? I could've sworn my parents kept it locked up tight. Hesitating only a moment, I followed her and pushed the door open fully, only to find my girl sitting on the floor, surrounded by boxes stacked haphazardly around her.

The walls were painted a soft pearl grey, a color that felt both cozy and cool. In the center of the room was a queen-sized bed draped with a fluffy white duvet, a heap of throw pillows piled against the headboard. A grey armchair was tucked into the corner by the window, overlooking the back garden. Despite its size, the room felt almost like it could belong to a kid, although the bed was far too large for that. I didn't see any closets, just a small dresser topped with a teddy bear. And then there were the glow-in-the-dark stars, scattered across the ceiling and walls

"Wha... Where am I?" I asked, stepping further in, eyes taking in the room's unexpected warmth.

"This is my room," Tara said, her cheeks tinged with a slight blush. "Or at least it was, back when I was younger. The decor's a bit childish now, I suppose."

"You've got a room here? Wait... did you say back when you were younger?"

"Hi, Sook," she murmured, as Sookie wandered over to her, resting her head on her knee. She stroked her head, and a softness took over her expression. "Your da took me in, in a way," she began, scratching behind Sookie's ears. "Malachy, Ciaran, and I... he helped us. He got Niamh out of the country so she couldn't be found, then brought us here."

My heart clenched as I took a seat across from her, my gaze flicking from her to the boxes around her. "How long have you known my parents, exactly?"

"I've known your da since I was five," she said, sighing. "I met your ma the night that...," she drew in a shaky breath, looking down as if the words themselves might break her, "...the night I lost Aiden. She thought your da was having an affair because he kept disappearing to look after me and get us outta that place. When Malachy and Ciaran brought me here, she finally found out about us. I told your da I wasn't worth it. They nearly split up that year, and I told him I wasn't worth wrecking his family over." She smiled sadly, her gaze distant. "But he refused point-blank. He told me he'd never leave me, said he'd always be just a call away."

I felt a swell of pride. That sounded just like my da.

"Shannon mentioned your da picked you up from your place a couple of days ago after you... well, you blew up on them," I said, hesitant to bring it up. "What happened?"