Hold On Tight (Take My Hand) (6 page)

Dexter came crawling back
down the stairs after twenty-or-so minutes. I looked him up and down, hoping
the irritation I felt inside was showing on my face, when he propped himself
against the doorframe to the living room.

“I’m sorry, doll,” he
muttered, sweeping the floor with his eyes. I simply shrugged. If my face
wasn’t portraying how annoyed I was, my body language certainly was. “It’s been
a tough day. I shouldn’t have taken it out on you.”

“It’s not just about
you
, you know?” I spat sharply –
ignoring his attempted apology completely. “All this crap with your dad? It’s
affecting
all
of us. Sarah
especially. Yet you’re the only one skulking around here feeling sorry for
yourself.”

You think I was being too
hard on him? Hmmm, maybe. But I was
so
mad
with him.

“When you pushed me away
before, I felt like some nosey busybody you barely knew. For a moment I felt
guilty
for being worried about you
– like you saw it as none of my business. Bloody hell, Dex, we’re
supposed to love each other! Surely that means I have a right to know what’s
going on in that head of yours!”

Dexter was in front of me
before I’d even finished talking. Placing his hands on my shoulders he gently
pushed me down onto the couch before kneeling himself in front of me.

“We
do
love each other,” he corrected, cupping my face in his hands.
“I’ve told you before, doll, even when I’m not showing it – don’t
ever
forget how much I love you.” Oh
crap. I made the mistake of looking into his deep blue eyes. I was such a
gonner. “I’m trying so hard not to fuck this up. It’s just difficult when I’ve
spent my whole life ruining everyone and everything in my path. But I don’t
want to ruin us, doll. I
won’t
ruin
us. I’ll try harder, I promise you. I really am sorry.”

Suddenly, with his forehead
pressed against mine, I struggled to remember why I was even cross with him.
Whatever it was couldn’t have been that big a deal. He’s my Dexter. He’s not
perfect – who is? But he’s mine and I love him.

“So… does that mean you’ll
tell me what happened now? How you bust your knuckles?” Dexter’s hands dropped
from my face and he stared down at my knees.

“A customer at the garage
accused me of leaving a cigarette burn in the leather.” He drew in a deep
breath and looked up at me without moving his head. “So I hit him.”

“
Why
? I croaked, utterly bewildered. “If you lose that job we’re
screwed, Dex. Why would you risk that? And over a misunderstanding?”

“An
accusation
,” he corrected – as if that made it okay. “I don’t
know… I just lost it. I have no explanation and I can’t justify my behaviour,”
he admitted. Genuine remorse saturated his husky voice and I covered his hands,
which were still cupping my cheeks, with mine. We stayed like that - staring at
each other, breathing deeply into one another, holding each other - for several
minutes.

“Are you poorly?” I asked,
concerned when he started rubbing at his nose for the third time. It was
beginning to look a little red around the edges and I assumed he was coming
down with a cold.

“I’m fine. Just a head
cold,” he replied, sniffling.

“You want some medicine?
Or water?” He shook his head and I stroked along his cheek with the back of my
hand. It was baby-smooth and I decided he must’ve shaved while he was hiding
out upstairs. It was also a little warm, presumably from whatever illness he
was coming down with, so I gave it a peck with my puckered lips.

“Better already,” he said
with a warm smile that set my insides on fire. “I know I seem to be saying it a
lot lately, but I really
am
sorry.” I
smiled reassuringly but I couldn’t leave it at that. Not
again.

“I know this is hard for
you, baby,” I began. “Probably harder for you than any of us. But you
need
to talk to me. You wouldn’t have
just hit that guy today if your head wasn’t messed up about everything that’s
going on. And maybe if you’d told me how you were feeling… released some of the
pressure… it might never have gotten to the point where you snapped like you
did.”

“I know,” he breathed. “I
know.”

“Oops sorry!” Sarah sang,
appearing from nowhere. Closing his eyes and sighing silently, Dexter shook his
head and turned to face her.

“Don’t be,” he assured
with a smile. “You’re not interrupting anything,” he added, jumping to his
feet. Sarah flashed him a dubious look which was so brief I’m not sure Dexter
even caught it. “Where’s the rest?” he asked, taking the bags of food from
Sarah’s hands.

“Still in the trunk.”

“I’m on it.”

Sarah patted Dexter
gratefully on the back and then waited until he’d disappeared outside to come and
join me on the couch. She sat beside me, smoothed out the kinks in her
floor-length tie-dye skirt and then rested her hand on my knee.

“Is everything okay
between you two? You’ve seemed a little… I don’t know…
off
, the last few days.”

“We’re good,” I assured
her. But then she cocked an eyebrow at me, just like the one Rachel’s mum used
to flash us if she caught us stealing from the sweetie cupboard before dinner.
“I think Dex is just struggling. Just as he was starting to come to terms with
everything, to try and move on,
he
shows
up and ruins it. He’s been so snappy and withdrawn and I don’t know how to help
him. If I try and encourage him to talk to me, he pushes me away. But if I just
leave him to it, he might think I don’t care. And I
do
care. I care so much, watching him struggle like this is
breaking my heart.”

“Honey, no one can deny
how much you love my boy.” I think my heart just melted a little.
Her
boy… “Dexter is such a complex young
man,” she continued, sounding almost regretful. “But there’s so much love
inside of him and I just wish life would give him a break so he could learn to
embrace it. It saddens me that this is happening right now. It’s still so early
for the two of you and I wish you’d had more time to enjoy one another, get to
know one another…” Sarah trailed off and I soon realised it was because Dexter
had returned with an armful of shopping bags.

“I know it’s early,” I
said quietly when Dexter disappeared into the kitchen. “And maybe it
is
turning out tougher than I
anticipated. But I won’t give up on him, Sarah. I’ll earn his trust, just like
you did. I’m just not sure how to go about it yet.”

“No, honey, that’s not the
problem. Dexter trusts you. He doesn’t trust
himself.
I know you think I know how to handle him when he’s slipping,
but believe me it’s hit and miss whether I actually get through to him.
Whenever I see even the slightest glimpse of sadness in those beautiful blue
eyes of his, I feel like I’m failing him. I still believe if anyone was born to
make my boy happy then that person is you. But sometimes… no, I shouldn’t think
like this…”

“Go on,” I urged gently -
clasping her hand, which still rested on my knee.

“Well sometimes I wonder
if he’s too damaged to ever be truly happy.” Sarah squeezed her eyes closed and
bit down on her bottom lip. She seemed ashamed of what she’d just said, and
although I couldn’t possibly judge her – I disagreed with her
wholeheartedly. I
had
to. Even
considering
her words to be the truth
for just a fraction of a second, caused painful spasms to erupt inside my
chest.

“You pick up milk while
you were there?” Dexter hollered from the kitchen, interrupting us. I can’t say
I was disappointed. Unshed tears were clawing at the back of my eyes –
stinging like grains of salt.
 

“Damn,” she muttered under
her breath. “I’ll go back out!” she called back to him. Standing up quickly,
grateful for the excuse to leave the house for the first time in three days, I
waved her off with my hand.

“I’ll go,” I offered.
Dexter appeared in the doorway then, cocking his head to the side as if to ask
what was happening. “I’m just nipping out for milk,” I told him.

“I’ll come with you,” he
suggested, striding up beside me.

“No. You stay and help
Sarah get dinner ready. I won’t be long. I’ll just nip to that little shop you
took me to last week.” There was a mini supermarket a couple of streets away
and to be honest I needed to be alone. I needed some cool air to clear my head
and I needed the silence along with it so I could put my thoughts in some kind
of order.

“Okay, doll,” he agreed
reluctantly. Then he bent down to kiss the top of my head. “I love you,” he
whispered into my ear. “Never forget.” My heart melted, trickling into my
stomach and settling into a shallow puddle.

“I won’t,” I breathed,
closing my eyes and relishing the feel of his warm breath coating my neck.

“Um, still here…” Sarah
called out in mock disgust. Giggling softly, I returned Dexter’s peck on the
side of his smooth cheek, grabbed my bag and jacket from the hook behind the
door, and headed outside.

I felt instantly refreshed
when the cold December air whipped my face. After zipping my jacket up to the
top I pulled it right up beneath my chin and then crossed my bag strap over my
body. By the time I reached the end of the street none of the problems
gate-crashing our lives seemed so intense anymore. It was then I realised being
held up indoors for so long was probably the catalyst behind me feeling like
I’m crumbling.

I’m not used to such an
inactive life, or such a lonely one. Don’t get me wrong, I’m well aware I’m no
Mrs Popular, but since arriving here I’ve literally only spoken to the same two
people. Unless you count Dexter’s father, but personally, I refuse to count him
as a ‘person’.

I miss home. I miss my
friends and my brother. I miss my New Life list. I miss my New Life –
full stop. I miss the little things. Like ‘our’ bread – it’s too sweet
over here. I miss ‘our’ chunkier celery. I miss ‘our’ chocolates and ‘our’
breakfast cereals.

I want to go home.

I’d just rounded the
corner when a car slowed to a halt beside me. Dusk was closing in and so -
feeling a little unsettled - I picked up my pace.

“Excuse me?” a woman’s
voice called. I turned to see her head sticking out of the driver window. She
had honey-blonde hair styled into a perfect bob, natural looking makeup applied
flawlessly over her dainty face and she was driving one of those glossy,
ridiculously expensive cars that guys drool over.

“Yes?” I replied,
strolling over to her car. She looked far too respectable to murder me, so I
assumed she was maybe lost or something.

“You’re Dexter’s girl
right?” she asked, sending waves of panic cascading through my veins.

“Yes,” I replied
nervously. “What’s this about?”

“My name is Patricia. I’m
Kevin’s wife.”

“Kevin?”
Who the hell’s Kevin?

“Sorry,” she muttered,
shaking her head. “You probably know him as Martin. Dexter’s father.” The air
leapt from my lungs, rendering me so breathless I stumbled. “I’d like to talk
with you about what’s been happening.”

“I…um…” I seriously
struggled to breathe and my legs felt so weak I was terrified they would give
way beneath me. “Okay,” I agreed.

She leaned across the car
and opened the passenger door for me to slide in. Hesitantly, I did so –
regretting my decision instantly. This woman had played a key part in
destroying Dexter and Sarah’s life. Maybe not directly, but she has supported
the man who took everything from them and is now trying to do it again.

“Look, I really think it
would be in your best interest to go along with whatever Kevin wants,” she
began, turning in her seat to face me. Relief washed through me as she made no
attempt to start the car. At least she wasn’t taking me anywhere. At least we
were parked on a street in view of the public with plenty of passers by.

“How can you stand by a
man like that?” I spat, unable to control the venom in my voice. “Do you
know
what he’s put that family through?”

“I only have their word
for that,” she retorted. I still don’t know how I managed to stop my palm
slapping her across the face.

“Why are you doing this?
You obviously don’t need the money,” I remarked, hovering my hand over the
fancy dashboard. “That house is all they have. If you take it – they’ll
have nothing.”

“I’m sorry but that’s
really not our problem.”

“HE’S HIS
FATHER!
” I roared. “How is it
not
your problem?” I felt physically
sick breathing the same air as this woman. Suddenly, her relationship with
Martin made perfect sense. She’s as twisted as he is.

“Look, he could cause a
lot of trouble for you. Walk away while you still can,” she warned.

“Are you threatening me?”
I gasped in disbelief.

“No. I’m simply stating a
fact.”

“Well I think you’re
bluffing,” I challenged. “I think the pair of you have just as much to lose as
we do. I don’t know how you got away with the whole Martin ‘dying’ thing, or
how you fixed the evidence so Dexter didn’t get caught for what he did… but if
those things ever came out…”