Finding Him (Him: Saints #1)

Prologue

Niall

ICAN'T brEATHE.

No, really, I can’t breathe.

“Nialler... hey, hey mate, you’re gonna be grand. Ya hear me?”

It’s happening again.

“What’s wrong with him? What happened? Where have you guys been?”

I’m just like him. The worst of him.

“Shh, quiet or you’ll wake Claire. He doesn’t want her to see him like this. Get his legs.”

Scaring her like him.

“Okay, okay. Jesus, JJ, are you even lifting?”

Smelling like him.

“Oh, excuse me Miss Americana. Sorry I’m not the fucking Incredible Hulk. My bad, my bad. Let me leave and go bulk up and come back when my strength is at your standards.”

I’m gonna end up just like him.

“Okay, just like that— turn, turn. The steps are right here.”

I don't mean the good parts—I don't mean getting better

“I’m familiar with the house, Mollsie. Question is; why’re you so familiar with the layout? Hmm?”

I’m gonna end up in the water

“Pardon?”

Deep in the water.

“Are ya neckin’ my captain, yank?”

They won’t save you like they saved Claire when she was little. They’ll watch you go under the way those people watching da did.

“Am I what? I don’t even know what that—”

Ow.

“Oh, good job Molly.”

I hit my head.

“Me?”

Or they hit my head I guess.

...where’s the sound...?

Oh no.

Oh no it’s happening again.

Help me.

Please.

Somebody.

I’m screaming

Can’t they hear me

Why

Please

Open

Your

“Hey, hey, it’s okay bud,” something soft and feather-light contrasts the piercing ice like cold feeling that is branding my skin.

“Aw, look at him. Look his nose is twitching—”

“Shh. Shut up. What happened to not waking Claire?”

“He’s like a little bunny rabbit.” Something taps against my nose, followed by the sound of something being slapped (?) not far above my face. “Aw— ow, jeez, fine. Possessive much?”

“Oh my god—”

There’s a thump down the hall, followed by a voice calling out that instantly kicks in my sense of fight or flight.

He’s downstairs yelling at Mammy. He came home from the pub again, smelling like the drink he keeps above the fridge, and they started fighting.

He yelled at me for leaving my shoes in the hall, causing him to trip over them, and Mammy jumped in and defended me.

They’re always fighting lately and it’s always my fault.

Now they’re screaming but I ran upstairs.

I had other things to worry about than Mammy and Daddy—not really Daddy, but Scary Da—being mad at each other.

Mammy would always protect me from Scary Da’s yelling.

But I would always protect my sister. I held my hands over her ears as we sat in the little landing that led to the attic, and she clutched her favorite plush dolly in her arm, sucking on her dodie. Claire was, not the doll.

The doll's name was Aoife, which had been Nanny’s name.

Claire doesn't really talk yet so I named the dolly for her, after Nanny gave it to her, since they had the same red hair. Nanny Aoife was Da’s mother, and ever since she died—a few months ago, around the time Claire started walking—he came home from the pub smelling like alcohol.

He left as Daddy and came home as the scary man.

He fought with Mammy. He yelled about nonsense.

He threw things at walls. And he yelled and yelled and yelled.

I missed Daddy.

But I won’t let the scary man yell at Claire. Just like Mam won’t let him yell at me.

Claire makes a whimpering sound. I shush her quickly.

The noises downstairs are dying down. I can hear Mam talking in the voice she always does when she finally gets Da to calm down. She’s like those people on TV who can control the circus animals. Da is a lion and he’s her responsibility. Claire is the circus monkey, and she is mine.

We’re quite the circus, the Blue family.

“Just close your eyes, Claire-Bear.”

“Claire.” I’m surprised to hear my own voice calling out. I try to roll but someone is stopping me. It smells like whiskey and flowers. All good and all bad. It smells like him and it smells like her.

Which one do I deserve?

“Shh, Niall. JJ went to go see her. He’ll make sure she’s alright, yeah?”

If the misplaced accent alone wasn't a dead giveaway on who the girl holding me and talking me down like I was a circus animal is, the smell would be enough to tell me. I knew her smell, I’ve grown accustomed to it in the recent weeks; It was a crutch I couldn’t afford to keep leaning on.

I knew it was her because I felt safe.

“You can hear me, right, Niall?” A hand is being stroked along my cheek, and hair being pushed out of my eyes.

I didn’t have to look down to know I was in the faded dark gray sweatshirt I had worn to Declan’s party after the game.

To know that I had been drinking away my problems like I always did after a bad loss.

Only it was worse than a loss to a game. I lost my shit entirely.

“Can you open your eyes?”

“Sorry,” I murmur, trying to get out of my head long enough to separate eyelid from eyelid. It’s a habit. To live with my eyes closed is something I long for. Get enough drink in me and I clamp my eyes shut and become blind to the world. “M’sorry I lost it.”

She’s upside down from this view, but she still looks like an angel.

I’m laying flat on my back, overtop of the covers on my four post bed in the same room I’d lived in since I was in nappies and there was a crib in the corner.

I know Comet has to be around here somewhere, if not in Claire’s room with her and—

“Oh my god,” I mutter in panic, trying to sit up but she keeps me down. She’s sitting cross criss (criss cross?) applesauce behind me, my head planted between her legs and using her as a pillow.

“Don’t move. JJ said you could barely walk from Fitzy’s truck to the curb.”

“Jonathan Jarlath is unsupervised with my sister, and that’s a big problem,” I say, my lips shaking as I talk. I think I’m cold. God, no, I’m freezing. Like I’ve just come out of the freezing water my brain drowns me in every night when I close my eyes.

It should’ve been me.

Me when it happened to Claire.

Me when it happened to Dad.

I should be under

The water and the ground

“He’ll be fine,” Molly says, trying to coax me back into a peaceful state with her soft hands and shushing sounds. “Believe it or not, he’s not as bad as he seems. Someone once told me he’s all bark and no bite.”

“Mmm, he is,” I hum, and then it dissolves into a childlike giggling sound. “I told ya that.”

“Yeah, silly goose,” she says, her laugh matching mine. Twin set, never one without the other. “You did.”

My eyes are drifting shut again and she’s shifting me onto my side and off her legs. Soon my head is on my pillowcase. My whole body feels like crap. My head feels worse, mostly from the reeling thoughts passing through it and refusing to let up.

“No,” I hear myself whine.

“Yes, you have to lay on your side or you’ll choke on your own vomit.”

“No, no, I don’t want to sleep,” I whisper. “I don’t want to lose you.”

“You won’t, Niall. I’ll be here all night long.” A blanket is tucked around my shoulders. It felt weird being tucked in while wearing joggers and a hoodie. Normally I was stripped down to my briefs for bedtime. “Like you said. You can’t get rid of me.”

“I’m going.” I think I’m crying or something. My nose is definitely stuffed up. “I’m gonna be all lost and all alone. I don’t like the water.”

I don’t make much sense to myself, and I’m sure she has even less of an idea on what I’m on about. At least I know the source material.

“You don’t have to worry. I won’t let you get lost. And hey, if you ever are?”

“Hmm?”

“I’ll find you.”