Needing 13 - Johnny Kavanagh

MAMA, I'M IN LOVE WITH A CRIMINAL

TARA

"Miss Lynch, please continue reading."

I cleared my throat softly, careful not to disturb Darragh, whose head rested comfortably in my lap. With a sleepy sigh, I began to read aloud again, my fingers absently brushing through his hair while Erin hid behind her copy of The Outsiders, stealthily painting her nails.

"I had a nightmare the night of Mom and Dad's funeral. I'd had nightmares and wild dreams every now and again when I was little, but nothing like this one. I woke up screaming bloody murder. And I could never remember what it was that had scared me. It scared Sodapop and Darry almost as bad as it scared me; for night after night, for weeks on end, I—"

Suddenly, the door to the classroom slammed open with a loud bang, making Darragh jerk awake. His head collided hard against the corner of the desk with a dull thud.

"Shite!" he cursed, sitting up straight and clutching his forehead, eyes watering from the shock.

"Mr. Lynch, care to explain why you're barging into my class?" Mr. Hardy's sharp gaze shot over my brother, unimpressed by the interruption.

"I need my sister," he growled, his voice rough with anger. His usually composed face was tight with barely-contained rage as his fists clenched at his sides, knuckles white. He locked eyes with me, and in an instant, I knew something was terribly wrong. "It's Shannon."

Shannon.

Our baby sister hadn't called during school hours in ages, not since my boyfriend and Gregory had started keeping a close watch over her. My mind raced, frantically cycling through a million horrifying possibilities. With shaky hands, I shoved my book, notebook, and pencil case into my bag, standing up so fast my chair nearly tipped over.

"Miss Lynch," Mr. Hardy's voice halted me in my tracks, and I turned to face him, my heart pounding in my chest. "Don't forget your essay. I expect it by Monday. And make sure you catch up on today's lesson." He shot a knowing look at Erin and Darragh, who flashed their best innocent smiles. "I trust your partners in crime will take adequate notes."

"We gotcha covered!" they chorused, grinning and throwing me quick winks.

"Thank you," I muttered, slinging my bag over my shoulder before practically bolting out the door.

"Joey, wait!" Aoife's voice called out, her footsteps echoing as she hurried down the hall toward us. Her face was flushed, breath ragged from running. "Hold on!"

As we reached Joey's car, I spun toward him, chest tight with anxiety. "What happened?"

"Shannon just rang me," Joey rasped, his voice thick with emotion. His hands were shaking as he fumbled for the car keys. "She's been attacked. She wants me to pick her up."

"Attacked?" I felt the blood drain from my face as I climbed into the backseat. "Who did it?"

"She wouldn't say," he replied through gritted teeth, turning the ignition. The car roared to life, and he waited only long enough for Aoife to buckle in before screeching out of the school parking lot.

"Bonnie and Clyde over here," Aoife muttered, glancing between us with concern. "Promise me you'll ask questions before you go storming in."

"Questions?" Joey barked out a humorless laugh, his knee bouncing with pent-up rage. He gripped the steering wheel so tightly I thought it might snap. "Our sister was attacked. Do you really think we're just going to sit back and play nice? We're going to make it right, end of."

"Too bloody right we are," I muttered under my breath.

"Just keep your heads on, the both of ye," Aoife urged, her tone firm but pleading. "No fights, Joe. You too, Tara. Not everything needs fists and fury."