Needing 13 - Johnny Kavanagh

MAN ON A MISSION

JOHNNY

"Kavanagh!" a Garda shouted, striding up to the temporary cell they'd dumped me in when we reached the station. He banged on the bars with his baton, sounding almost pleased. "Someone's come for ya."

My stomach did a nervous flip. "Is it...my mam?" I asked, dread curling in my gut.

There was no bloody way I'd face Edel Kavanagh's wrath alone in a confined space. Jail was starting to feel like the safer option, if I was being honest.

"If it's my mam, I'd rather stay right here," I muttered, eyeing the key he'd slipped into the lock. Reluctantly, he swung the door open, gesturing for me to step out. "Or is it my da?"

He shook his head with a smirk. "Neither. It's a girl."

"A girl?" I froze mid-step, heart pounding. "What girl? Some crazy fan? Here, let me back in the cell, Officer."

He rolled his eyes. "Not a fan, Kavanagh. We've had a few of those show up, alright, but this one called you a 'giant, brainless eejit who's taken one too many knocks to the head because of that fucking game.'" He chuckled, folding his arms. "She sounds proper hacked off."

So Tara had come after me. I smirked. Now that was interesting.

"I'll handle her," I said, flashing him a grin as I stepped out of the cell. "Cheers for the heads-up, and, uh...sorry for the trouble."

"Just don't do it again."

I nodded and made my way to the exit. Just beyond the double doors, a row of hard plastic chairs lined the wall, and there she was. Tara sat, her back to me, her leg bouncing with impatience as she held her phone up to her ear, mumbling under her breath.

"He's an absolute arsehole, Erin," she grumbled. "A complete muppet, honestly... I should be on a plane to the fucking Maldives, not babysitting at a Garda station... His parents don't even know he's here... No, I don't love him... What I'd love is to throw a chair at his thick skull... One of these days, I swear to God, I'm going to knock him out and keep Sookie all to myself... That poor dog deserves a medal for putting up with him. He's like a giant fucking baby, and—"

I snatched the phone from her, holding it up to my ear. "Bye, Erin," I said cheerily before ending the call, then handed it back to Tara, who was glaring daggers at me.

"That was me fucking phone."

"I'm well aware, baby," I replied, giving her a cheeky wink.

"Call me 'baby' again, and I'll gouge your eyes out, Johnny," she growled, pushing past me toward the door. "Why the hell am I here instead of on a bleeding plane?"

I jogged ahead and held the door open for her. "Because you care about me. Admit it," I teased as she breezed past. "Look at us—criminally in love."

She spun on her heel so fast I almost tripped into her. "I'll criminally punch ya," she threatened, clenching her fist right in front of my nose.

"But you'll kiss it better after, won't ya?" I grinned, watching as a blush crept up her cheeks, though she kept her glare sharp. "You're not saying no, baby."

She rolled her eyes, muttering, "God above, give me patience," before turning and striding off, her hips swaying. My gaze trailed after her, realizing she'd ditched her jeans from earlier for a skirt. And no suitcase in sight.

"Stop staring at my arse, Johnny!" she called out as she walked.

"Can't help it," I called back, catching up to her. "I love your arse!" I grinned, matching her pace. "So, where are we off to?"