Page 140 of Releasing 10
This asshole was feral.
Abandoning his room before the fumes altered the chemicals in my brain, I headed straight for Gibsie’s room and let myself inside.
I didn’t bother to knock because we didn’t do that kind of thing. I strolled over to his bed and inspected his limp body, huddled under the duvet. “Are ya dead, Gibs?”
Startled by the sound of my voice, Gibs shot straight up, only to hiss out a pained breath and gingerly settle back down on his side. “I am, lad.”
“Is it catching?” I asked, sitting down beside him. “You do look like you’re halfway dead all right.” I reached out a hand and touched his clammy forehead. “Jesus, you’re burning up, lad.” Concern roared to life inside of me. “You’re drenched in sweat, Gibs.”
“I’m okay, Hugh,” he whispered, trembling beneath the covers, as he curled up in the fetal position. “I’m always okay.”
“Where’s your mam?”
“Work.”
“Keith?”
“Work.”
“Mark’s babysitting you?”
He nodded stiffly.
Frowning in concern, I touched his brow again, feeling unhappy about leaving him here. “Can you get up?”
“Why?”
“Because it’s your birthday and I’m not going to leave you here on your own,” I explained, standing up. “Come over to our house, and we’ll look after you until your mam gets home from work.” Smiling, I added, “Claire’s baking you a cake—although, fair warning, I caught her drooling all over the spoon.”
“But I’m supposed to stay here with him.”
“Yeah, fat lot of good Mark is,” I grumbled. “He’s too busy ‘working out’ to bother checking on you. You should have heard the way he roared at me when I knocked on the door. He was raging that I disturbed him.” Shaking my head, I reached for his hand and helped him into a sitting position. “Nah, you’re coming home with me.” Draping his duvet over his shoulders, I wrapped an arm around my oldest friend and led him out of his room.
“And where the fuck do you think you’re going?” Mark demanded when we reached the landing. He stepped in front of the staircase and folded his arms across his chest. “Your mother left me in charge of you.” He turned his attention to Gibs and said, “Get back into bed now.”
A shiver racked through Gibs, and he reached for my hand, squeezing it almost as tightly as Lizzie did when this creep was around. “He’s coming with me,” I warned, taking a protective stance in front of my friend.
“I’m in charge of where he goes.” Mark’s nostrils flared with temper. “He’s my brother.”
“No, you fucking cretin,” I seethed, whacking his hand away when he tried to grab my friend. “He’smybrother. Now get out of our way.”
He smiled darkly. “Make me, egghead.”
Now, I rarely lost my temper; in fact, I was praised on my ability to keep the head, but this bully drew the worst out of me.
Mark Allen was a mean bastard. He was always goading, mocking, and tormenting Gibs, and when he wasn’t making my friend cry, he was making my babysitter cry.
Difference was, I wasn’t Gibsie or Caoimhe. I wasn’t Claire or Liz, either. I wouldn’t stand for it. Yeah, I was younger than him, but I was tall for my age, and I wasn’t afraid to throw down, even if the probability of getting my ass handed to me was high.
I had no doubt Mark could hammer the living daylights out of me, but the fact that I wasn’t afraid to go head-to-head with him, with the knowledge that I would surely get in a few shots of my own, caused him to pause a moment.
Yeah, because it wouldn’t be a good look for Mark to get caught battering kids. He had a reputation to uphold—one he had sold to every adult in our community.
Everyone loved this guy.
Everyone.
I tried to tell Sadhbh about the bullying, but she wouldn’t hear a word said against her precious stepson. I tried to tell Caoimhe, and she believed me even less.
