Who the hell cares?!

Chapter Eleven.

JIMMY CASSIDY

Frankie.

He had to mess everything up, didn’t he?

It was early morning when I realised I had to get Allie home. She had her head rested on my chest, sleeping soundly, curled up next to me. I gazed at her for a minute, taking time to absorb her natural beauty. She was pretty. Very pretty. Even after being thoroughly fucked, deep and hard, she was still pretty. It made me smile a bit. Until I saw the time.

Danny’s alarm clock (that sometimes worked and sometimes didn’t) read 5:30am. Danny would be back soon. I sighed and took Allie’s shoulder, shaking her gently. “Love? Ye awake?”

She groaned quietly, her eyes fluttering open as she adjusted her sight after sleeping. She looked up at me. “What time is it?”

“It’s five in the mornin’.” I sat up slowly, making sure I didn’t hurt her as I did so. “Get dressed.”

“It’s cold...”

I frowned as she said that. She was right, it was cold. The heating was still damn unpaid. I sighed. “Just get dressed.”

She gazed at me, and looked like she wanted to say something. I cut her off by standing up and wrenching my boxers and my jeans on and saying, “We need t’ get y’ home before Danny get’s back. Or Frankie wakes up.”

I didn’t need or want her pity. Pity wasn’t going to make the heating come back on, pity wasn’t going to pay our electric bill. I walked out of the bedroom after pulling my shirt on, making my way towards the kitchen, leaving her there. I gritted my teeth together, feeling frustrated. Fucking heating.

I decided that I’d try to make Allie some coffee, seeing as she probably wouldn’t be used to a house so cold. I switched the kettle on. Nothing. I stared at it and tried again. Still, nothing happened. I furrowed my eyebrows and tested the lights.

The lights remained off.

Great.

Fucking great.

So neither the heating or the electric was paid for, fantastic. I sighed, I just need to get Allie out of here before she really see’s how fucking poor we are. And I didn’t want her to see that. Because then that’s where the pity starts, and I hate pity.

“Jimmy?” I heard her ask. I turned my head to look at her, standing at the kitchen doors. “Do you have anything to eat before I go?”

Fuck, this isn’t a B&B, I wanted to bark at her, but I bit my tongue and reminded myself that it weasn’t her fault we were living without electric or heating. “No,” was all I said. The word came out sharper and colder than I hoped it would, but never-the-less...

“Oh,” she muttered, looking down. I sighed and grabbed my jacket.

“Come on then.”

I made my way to leave the kitchen, but she called my name again. “Jimmy.”

“Yeh?”

“What’s this?” She opened the lid on the little porcelian jar we had in the kitchen. She pulled out a few pound notes. “Money? Why don’t you use this for the heating?”

“That’s Frankie’s college funds,” I explained to her, making sure she didn’t nick any of it by watching her like a hawk. I doubted she would, though. That money was precious. “Me and Danny always put money aside to put him off the medical college.”

“Frankie’s going to medical college?” For some reason, she seemed shocked at this. I raised an eyebrow.

“Yeh. Well... hopefully. To be a surgeon. If me and Danny save enough money for him, anyway,” I said, pointedly. “Didn’t Frankie ever tell y’?”