Page 68 of Redeeming 6

“Sure thing, stud.” She waggled her brows. “See what I did there.”

“Hilarious.” I shook my head and pocketed my wallet. “Lock the door behind me. I’ll be back in half an hour.”

“Will do. Oh, and go ask Shan if she wants something,” she called out as I closed the door behind me.

I knocked on the door next to mine.

“Come in,” my sister called out, and I pushed her door inward to find her sitting cross-legged on her bed with her schoolbooks laid out in front of her. “What’s up, Joe?”

“I’m going to the shop. Do you want anything?”

“You are?” She offered me a small smile. “Where’s Aoife?”

“In my room.”

Sticking her pencil behind her ear, she flicked through the pages of her textbook.

“Is she staying over?”

“Yeah,” I replied, impatient. “Do you want something from the shop or not? It’s closing soon.”

“Why are you going to the shop so late?” She eyed me curiously. “What do you need that’s so important?”

Deciding it would be more fun to fuck with her than admit my girlfriend had sent me out on a food run, I grinned and said, “Do you honestly want me to answer that?”

“No,” she groaned, thoroughly sickened with me. “Go away.”

Laughing, I closed the door behind me. “Night, Shan.”

“Be safe!” she called after me. “I’m too young to be an auntie.”

“No fear of that happening,” I grumbled, repressing a shiver.

“Tampons!” My bedroom door flew inward, and Molloy’s head popped out. “Get me a box of tampons, too, Joe, will you? I’m really bloated, and I’m due on any day now. I didn’t pack any in my bag, and your mam doesn’t have any in the bathroom.”

“Wouldn’t Shannon have—”

“No, I’ve asked her before. She’s not there yet.”

“Fine.” There went my plans for the next week. “Do you want the sticks or the pads?”

“Sticks?”

I shrugged. “You know what I mean. The blue box of sticks. Is that what you need, or is it the ones with the sticky stuff on the back?”

“Whatever you can find is fine, Joe,” she replied with a laugh. “You’re the best.”

I was a fool for her, that’s what I was.

Jesus, the old man was right; I was pussy-whipped.

26

I’m Always Careful

AOIFE

“We need to talk,” Casey announced on Monday morning as she stood in the middle of the empty girls’ changing room at school and glared at me. We had a double class of P.E. and I was sitting on the wooden bench, last as usual, attempting to tie the laces of my football boots and catch up with the rest of my class.

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