Hold On Tight (Take My Hand) (7 page)

She laughed at me. Can you
believe that? She
actually
laughed!
One of those small, low, cackles like the villains in movies do. She was
mocking me. I hated her.

“You’re right, I did
falsify evidence. And I can do it again. Who do you think a court would
believe, little girl? A young man with a rap sheet longer than his arm, or a
highly respected police commissioner? You can’t win this one. So stop trying.”

I was stunned into
silence. I couldn’t think of anything to say. I couldn’t think – period.
Probably because remembering how to inhale was the most vital thing in that
moment – or maybe because she was right.

No. She was
definitely
right.

“Why are you doing this?”
I repeated desolately.

“Kevin
needs
the money from that house. It’s
none of your concern why. The boy is obviously too stubborn to listen, but I
can tell by your eyes you know I’m making sense. Let it go, little girl. Give
him what he wants and move on.”

I opened my mouth to speak
but once again no words seemed willing to come out. Thankfully, as I closed it
again, I was saved from the intimidating silence by the sound of One Direction
singing from my phone. Hey, don’t judge me – Rachel set it as my ringtone
before she left.

It was Dexter.

“I have to go,” I said
curtly, opening the car door.
Patricia
–
God even
thinking
her name left a
bitter taste in my mouth and a knot in my stomach – grabbed my arm and
gently held me in place.

“Let it go,” she repeated,
slipping a contact card into my hand… but somehow it was different this time.
Her tone was gentler… more like advice than a warning. And something flickered
behind her brown eyes but I couldn’t quite place what it was. Regret maybe?
Empathy?

Snatching my arm out of
her gentle grip, I clambered out the car and set off in a brisk walk towards
the house.

“Hey, baby,” I answered
the phone. “I’m on my way back now. Five minutes.”

When I got back to the
house I fed Dexter a fib and told him the shop was closed. I even went to the
trouble of saying there was a sign on the door saying ‘Family Emergency’. When
I’d finished spouting my heap of crap I found myself hoping he doesn’t know the
shop owners personally. He grumbled playfully about having no milk for his
coffee which ended up in a mock argument involving lots of bum slaps and
underarm tickles. It was complete childish fun, and for those few minutes, I
completely forgot about the real reason for me not going to the shop.

I’m not sure why I lied to
him. Actually I’m just saying that because I feel bad for doing it. I know
exactly
why I didn’t tell him. It’s
because I was afraid. Not of
him
of
course - but of his reaction. Throughout the walk home I role-played telling
him what’d just happened over and over in my mind and I decided it would likely
go one of three ways:

1.
                         
He would get mad and run from me

2.
                         
He would get mad and go and ram his father’s face in with his fist (or
find a substitute face if he didn’t come across the card containing his address
in my pocket)

3.
                         
He would get mad and withdraw from me completely

You know what? Screw that
pathetic little list. I’ve just made him look like a selfish arsehole and
Dexter isn’t selfish. He’s… he’s hurting.

And so was I when he overheard
me spilling everything to Sarah later in the evening.

“What the fuck is this?”
he spat venomously, crossing his arms in front of us.

“Dexter I-” I jumped up
and tried to explain but he cut me off.

“Nice to know you two can
confide in each other. Nice to know you trust
HER
with your little secrets and not me!” he yelled, pointing
towards Sarah who was also standing up now.

“Now you stop right
there,” Sarah ordered. “This girl is worrying herself sick over you, you stupid
boy!”

“Yeah that’s me –
stupid. Stupid for thinking
I
was
part of this too!”

“Dexter, please. I’m
sorry. I didn’t know what to-”

“Save it, Emily. I’m done
here. I’m fucking done!”

Dexter rammed his fist
into the doorframe behind him as he stormed off towards the front door. The
sound of his knuckles crunching against the wood made me gasp and instinctively
I reached out to grab him – to
hold
him. But he was gone before I could get to him.

“Let him be, honey,” Sarah
soothed, pulling on my elbow when I went to follow him out. “He needs to calm
down. If you go after him now, he’ll only say things I know he’ll regret in the
morning.”

“Ugh, why does he
do
this?” I snapped, my body literally
trembling with frustration. Why does he keep pushing and running?

“It’s all he knows,” she
said calmly. “Growing up – when things got tough, his only option was to
run away if he didn’t want to get hurt too. It’s become his default defence
mechanism I suppose.” Sarah’s words made perfect sense and my frustration
quickly melted into heartache. “He’ll come back,” she assured. “He always comes
back.”

~Dexter~

They
can all go fuck themselves. Every one
of them. Even you.

Wanna know the first thing I did after
storming out the house? Yeah that’s right, I got myself a hit. Come on, be honest…
you expected nothing less. Go on, you might as well say it. I’m losing it. I’m
losing control. Turns out I haven’t ‘got this’ after all.

And you know what? I don’t give a fuck.

I’ve been trying so fucking hard to
keep my shit together for their sakes. But what’s the freakin’ point if they’re
so afraid of me losing it they shut me out anyway? They clearly don’t trust me.
It’s not just today – I’ve heard their hushed little conversations
before. They talk about me - I know they do. Like I’m a little kid who needs
discussing. Bet they sit up all night wondering what’s gonna become of me.
Taking bets on what shit I’ll get myself into next.

If they’re expecting me to let them
down, I see no point in disappointing them. That’s what I told myself when I rolled
the musky-smelling bill into a tight straw. I repeated it again like a mantra
when I hovered it under my left nostril and pressed my right one closed with my
forefinger.

When I inhaled the numbing powder in
one fluid stroke I didn’t need the mantra anymore. I didn’t need to say or
think about anything except how fucking good it felt. Everyone says this shit
is no good for me, but I’m not really seeing that right now. As I stared down
at the specks of white dusting the top of the lightwood cabinet in Jax’s
bathroom, I couldn’t help but mentally list all the positives it brought to my
life.

It doesn’t talk back –doesn’t
give me shit.

It makes me feel numb - makes me
forget.

Most importantly, it makes me feel
stronger. You know, I’ve always concerned myself with letting everyone else
down, but what about me? I’ve been let down my entire life. My dad beat on me
and my mom since before I could walk and where was everyone then huh? Nowhere.
That’s where. No one gave a shit back then and no one gives a shit right now.

I don’t need anyone else when I’m
jacked up like this. I can tackle the heap of shit people call life all on my
own. It’s better this way. I don’t need anyone’s trust or support. I believe in
myself. Everyone else can fuck the hell off.

**********

“Christ, Dexter, I’ve been so worried
about you,” Emily cried, throwing herself onto me the second I stepped into the
house. Holy shit, the scent of her fiery hair punched me in the face when I
instinctively bent down to kiss her forehead. It danced up my nose,
intoxicating me. Jesus, just an hour ago I was convinced I didn’t need anybody.
But now the effects were starting to die out, I realized that was the blow
talking. I
need
this girl who was
wrapped in my arms.

I will
always
need her.

“I’m sorry, doll.” I sounded like a
broken record lately. But what else could I do? I wasn’t doing such a great job
with the actions, so words were all I had.

“Please, baby…
please
stop running from me,” she begged - her voice strained and
uneven.

“I’m trying.” I sounded pathetic. My
voice was weak and my eyes began to sting. “I’m really am. I just… I’m fucked
up, doll. I’m losing it. I’m losing everything.”

“You’re not losing anything,” she
replied, sounding determined as she raised her chin to look up at me. She pressed
her warm palm to the side of my cheek and stared intently,
purposely
into my eyes. “You’re not losing
anything
,” she repeated. “I won’t let you.”

If only she knew. If only she knew I’d
already thrown it all away. She was right – I’m not
losing
anything.

I’ve already lost it.

And the only thought more frightening
than that one right now, is I’m almost out of gear.

**********

“Yeah, the head gasket’s blown,” Jaxon
muttered, sliding out from underneath the blue pickup truck. “Think you can take
this one?” he asked.

“Sure,” I replied eagerly. I know my
way around an engine with my eyes closed, but this was the first time I’d ever
been asked to fix up a car for an actual paying customer. Raring to go, I
grabbed a torque wrench from the steel cabinet behind me and got to work.

Everything was going fine until I came
to replace the head bolts. My hands were a little shaky and I just couldn’t
seem to summon the right amount of hand-eye-coordination to get the job done. I
knew damn well what was wrong with me but I persevered – refusing to
admit how weak and reliant I’d become.

Until I didn’t have another choice.

“FUCK!” I roared so forcefully the word
ripped chunks out of my throat. I brought my bloody hand up towards my chest,
cradling it in front of me while I inspected the wound.

“You okay, man?” Jaxon asked, tossing
his handful of sparkplugs on the counter and strolling over to me.

“Sure,” I replied, wincing slightly. “I
just need to go clean this up.” After running his eyes over the tear in my
skin, Jaxon nodded and turned back to whatever he was doing before.

My hand had stopped bleeding by the
time I reached the washroom. Once I’d ran some warm water over it I was left
with nothing more than a deep scratch caused by my trembling hand skimming the
moving drill bit when I was stripping the bolts. I decided then, it would be
stupid – dangerous even – if I carried on denying myself a hit for
the rest of my shift. The shakes would only get worse and I was already
starting to sweat. If I didn’t sort that out soon Jaxon would notice something
was wrong.

I know you probably don’t see the
rationality in my reasoning, but that’s because you’re just like the others.
You think I should ‘talk’ don’t you? Share my feelings and all that shit? Well
I don’t
want
feelings. I don’t want
to
feel
them and I certainly don’t
want to
talk
about them. Feelings
hurt.
All
of them. Even the happy
ones are only ever there to tease you – to lull you into a false sense of
security. Then, just when you start to believe they’re real…

BAM!

You fall a thousand times further and
land a thousand times harder.

I know you’re judging me and I don’t
blame you. And hey, if the whole ‘feelings’ thing works for you? Great - I’m
happy for you. But numbness is what works for me – this amazing ability
I’ve developed over the years to block everything out. It seems like the
sensations I experience right after a hit are what I live for now … The fog
clouding over my mind and my thoughts, the tingling warmth soaring through my
veins and settling around my heart like an impenetrable blanket –
protecting it, letting nothing in and even better, letting nothing out.

“Hey, man, you in there?” Jaxon called,
rapping on the door.

“Shit,” I cursed under my breath. “Be
out in five!” I called back before quickly splashing my face down with some
cool water from the sink and then using some damp toilet paper to wipe away the
last remnants of gear from the ceramic shelf above the can. “Your woman’s out
here!”

My woman?

Fuck.

And there it was again. The guilt
– the pain… crashing down on me like a lump of solid lead. Who the fuck
am I kidding here? I might
want
to
believe no one gives a shit. I might
want
to believe I don’t need anyone else. I might even
want
to believe I can’t
feel
anymore.

But the simple sound of her name being
spoken, tells me that I’ve never felt more in my life.

What the fuck have I done?

When I stepped out of the bathroom
Jaxon stopped me in my tracks with a firm hand on my shoulder.

“I’m worried about you, man. Please
tell me you’re not getting in too deep with that shit again.”

“What’s it to you?” I snapped, pushing
my way past him. Like he really gave a fuck.
He
was the one who got me started on the stupid shit anyway.

“Hey, doll,” I greeted, followed by a
quick kiss on the cheek. Dismissing Jaxon’s misplaced concern, I tried to sound
upbeat – casual.

“What’s wrong, baby? You still poorly?”

Poorly?
Oh right… she means
the head cold I lied to her about.

“No I’m good, honest,” I lied through my
worthless teeth. My fingers were twitching and my legs were restless. “Just
lovin’ the job I guess. I’m in the middle of fixing a blown head gasket.”

Slow
down, Dex,
I mentally
scolded myself. My words were rushing involuntarily from my mouth at a speed
which would give me away to someone who knew the ‘old’ me. I caught my foot
tapping incessantly against the stone floor so I stood on it with my other,
leaning against the pickup truck for support.

I’d had too much. I wasn’t just relaxed
– I was all out freakin’ buzzed.

“If you’re sure,” she said dubiously.
The eyebrow she raised told me she knew something was wrong but thankfully she
was too naïve and inexperienced with the world to know what. “Will you be home
soon? Sarah wants to talk to you,” she said nervously – her cheeks
flushing and making me want to bend her over this bonnet and fuck her pretty
little brains out. “She’s made a decision about the house.”

Whoa… See what I mean about the ‘good’
feelings. They
always
screw you over.

“A decision?” I barked. “What kind of
decision?
” I spat, the words sizzling on
my tongue.

“You really need to ask Sarah.”

“FUCK SARAH! I’m asking you!”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa…. Take it easy, man.”
I shrugged away from the hand Jaxon had clamped down on my shoulder all of a
sudden. It was only then, when he glared at me with a confused, yet revolted
look in his eye, I realized I was right up in Emily’s face. She was leaning
against the exposed brick wall in an effort to shrink away from me.

“Jesus, doll…I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean
to yell.”

“You never do!” she blared. She tried
to sound angry but the crack in her voice gave her away. Her tone trembled as
she fought back the tears and within seconds, she had turned on her heels and
disappeared.

She ran.

From
me
.

“I gotta go,” I said to Jaxon. I’m not
sure if he heard me because I was already half way down the street.

When I got home it took me almost an
hour of groveling to get Emily to open the bedroom door and talk to me. When
she finally peeled it open, I just stood there looking at the floor and feeling
utterly ashamed of myself.

“I have no excuse for yelling at you.
I’m sorry.” I was beginning to think I said that darn word so often lately it
didn’t even mean anything anymore.

“I think you need to talk to Sarah,”
she replied – dismissing my apology completely. She had every right to
shirk me, but it didn’t stop the little bubbles of frustration fizzing up
inside my stomach.

“You don’t want to talk about it?” I
asked, possibly a little sharper than I’d intended.

“What’s the point?” Ouch. “You don’t
do
talking, Dexter. You’ve made that
pretty clear.”

“Please, doll. Don’t do this. I know I
have no right to say this… but I
need
you.”

“And you’ve got me. You always will.
But right now? I’m sorry, Dexter but
I
need
someone too. Someone who won’t bail on me when things get a little too
intense.”

What could I say to that? Nothing,
that’s what. Because she was right. I wasn’t there for her. I’ve done nothing
but let her down time and time again.

“I’m sorry.” Yeah, that sounded just as
pathetic out loud as it did in my head.

“I know you are,” she whispered on a
long exhale. “I know.”

Reluctantly, I made my way back
downstairs alone – shame weighing down on me so heavily every step was an
effort. Aunt Sarah was waiting for me in the kitchen. I found her sitting at
the small pine table with two mugs of freshly made coffee in front of her.

“I’m signing the house over to Martin’s
wife,” she announced before I’d even sat down.

“You’re WHAT?” I blasted, blinking
erratically as if that would make her and her ridiculous words disappear.

“I can’t live like this anymore, Dex.
It feels like we’re trapped in limbo. I wake up every day not knowing whether
he’s gonna turn up and cause a scene. I lie awake at night wondering what his
next move will be. And… you’re slipping. I can see it in your eyes. And it’s
all because of HIM!”

“I-I… I don’t know what you’re talking
about. I’m fine.” The fact I stumbled on my words betrayed the lie.

“Don’t lie to me, honey. Not
me.
I know you and I know when you’re
slipping. Don’t you see? If I don’t end this now it’s only going to get worse!
It’s just not worth it. He can take the house. I’ll move on – get a new
one. But I can’t get another one of you. He’s taking you from me all over
again, Dex. It’s happening right in front of me and I will
not
stand by and watch you destroy yourself over him!”