Binding 13

"There will be no tying me down to anyone," I shot back. "And especially not her."

He arched a brow. "You sure about that?"

"Just shut up and put your seatbelt on," I instructed, looking around for anything he could hurt. "And check your mirrors."

"Yes, Dad," Gibsie muttered, complying with my commands.

"Okay, you can go now – nice and slow," I told him when I was confident that he could pull out of his parking spot without causing grievous bodily harm – which he was quite capable of doing. "Slow, Gibs."

"Binding thirteen," Gibsie snickered as he tore off way too fucking fast for comfort. "Little Sha

"Slow your ass down," I barked, resisting the urge to snatch the wheel. "And what the hell does binding thirteen mean?"

"You don’t know about that?"

I shook my head. "Obviously not since I'm asking you."

"That's what they say, lad," Gibsie explained.

"Who?" I demanded as I grabbed ahold of the Oh Jesus handle and threw a few Hail Mary's up to the man upstairs.

Don’t let this fucker kill me.

"The girls at school," he chuckled, pulling onto the main road without checking both ways, and narrowly avoiding a milk van. "That's what they say about you."

Oh, Jesus.

I was going to die in this car.

He was going to take my bleeding life.

Sheepishly saluting the milkman who was shaking his fist at us, I turned to glare at Gibsie.

"They call me binding thirteen?" I shook my head. "Why? I don’t get it."

"It's not what they call you," he corrected. "It's what they want to do with you."

"What?"

"You're number 13," he laughed. "And they want to bind with you." He turned to waggle his brows at me. "Scrum style."

"That is…so fucking creepy," I grumbled, shuddering. "Put your eyes on the road!"

"One hundred percent," Gibsie laughed, turning his attention back to the windscreen. "Claire told me about it last year. Said she overheard a bunch of sixth years talking about something called ‘Operation Binding Thirteen’ in the bathroom."

"Jesus Christ," I growled.

"Right around the time you started tapping Bella," he filled in. "Do the maths."

I didn’t have to.

I had already figured it out.

"Oh, for fuck's sake," I groaned.

"Yep," Gibsie agreed with a grimace. "Be glad you got out of that, Joh

I was.

More than words could express.

"What am I going to do, Gibs?"

"About Sha

I nodded glumly.

"Give in," he answered without hesitation.

"I can't," I croaked out.

"You can," he assured me. "You're just scared."

Yeah, I was scared.

I was fucking terrified of my feelings for her.

"I don’t even feel like I have a choice anymore," I confessed. "I am losing my bleeding mind, Gibs."

"Nah, your mind's still there," Gibsie chuckled, patting my shoulder. "It's your heart your losing, lad."

"Fuck," I choked out, biting down on my lip as sheer terror seized my chest.

"Yeppers," he agreed. "Terribly inconvenient, isn’t it?"

"I'll fucking say," I mumbled.