Tight Knit (10 page)

I shake my head.

“I’m fine,” I say more for myself then him. “Really. I’m fine. I want to come with you.” 

More like I want to find out your story. Why you have this effect on me. 

I force a smile. 

“You sure?”

I nod again. He slides his hand from my cheek to my neck, over my shoulder and down my arm until my hand in firmly gripped in his. I’m so aware of the heat of his skin, the tingle that trails his touch, the electricity that crackles around me. He squeezes my fingers and I wonder if he feels the same thing. 

Lachlan pushes open the door and pulls me through, dropping my hand when we get to the other side. 

The space is a small conference room and it smells like a church, old paper, candle smoke and dusty carpet. I don’t even remember the last time I was in a church but the smell is one that will stay with me forever. Like the wool shop. And Nan. 

In the center of the room there’s a circle of chairs set up with a few people already seated. It reminds me of the wool shop and how we sit and knit in a circle. This makes me feel a lot better. 

Lachlan nudges me with his shoulder and leans toward me.

“Let the fun begin.” he smiles and gestures to a seat in the back of the room. 

His face goes pale and I follow his gaze to a tall blonde leaning against the back wall. He knows her. His face says it all. By the way he takes her in with that intense gaze, he knows her very well. 

His back straightens and he walks stiffly over to her. She’s way skinnier than me. And taller. And everything that I am not. I watch Lachlan as he leans into her and says something in her ear. She touches his face and my stomach sinks. I don’t know why because it’s not like anything could ever happen. Between us, I mean. 

Lachlan ducks out from under her hand and steps back. He grabs her upper arm just under the armpit and storms past leaving me behind. 

“I can’t believe you, Violet.” I hear Lachlan hiss.

“But Lannie, I needed to see you. I wanted to say congratulations. Lannie, you know I lo-“

The door slams out her words. Everyone in the small room turns to look at me. 

I go into panic mode. I’m not sure if I should follow them. I’m not sure what they were fighting about and I’m definitely not sure I liked the way he pulled her out of the room like that. 

I hesitate then take a step forward, then stop and take a step back. 

Someone puts a hand on my shoulder and I spin around. A young woman is looking at me with her head cocked to one side and her long auburn hair hanging loose around her thin face. She’s wearing a casual three piece suit and the way she stands with such authority tells me she runs this group.

“Excuse me,” she says softly. “I didn’t mean to startle you.” 

“No, it’s fine.” 

“I’ve never seen you before. I’m Samantha Turner. You are?”

“Talia,” I say and awkwardly shake her hand. “Talia Gregory. I’m here with Lachlan.” 

I point to the door. “I mean, I was here with Lachlan.” 

The woman’s eyebrows knit together in thought before she smiles. 

“Lachlan’s never brought anyone to Support before. This is a good thing. I’m so glad you’re here, Talia.”

If he’s never brought anyone before then who is this Violet?

Samantha must sense it because she wraps her arm around my shoulder and guides me to the back of the room where she offers me a seat.

“That girl, Violet,” she starts and then pauses to think. “Violet comes by every once in awhile but she is from Lachlan’s past. She’s a trigger. He knows that. I know that. So we try to keep her out of here. She doesn’t seem to care much for the rules. I’ve never seen him this upset by it before. You must have something to do with that.” 

Samantha lifts her eyebrows while mine sink deeper into my forehead.

“A trigger for what?” I ask.

She laughs quietly to herself. 

“He didn’t tell you did he?” She shakes her head at the same time I do.

“No he didn’t. He said I’d learn more about what he wanted to tell me by coming than by him telling me.” 

She laughs again.

“That sounds like something Lachlan would say. He isn’t great with words. Believe me, I have spent two years trying to get him to open up about his addictions. To this day he refuses to talk about it beyond acknowledging it’s existence.” 

“Addictions?” My heart skips a beat. 

“Yes, this is a support group for Youth Addictions and Lachlan was ordered here by the court when he was arrested two years ago for trafficking.” 

I’m shocked that I’m not overly surprised and even more-so that I’m not panicking about it. 

“Is he still doing drugs?” I ask. Not that she would know.

“I don’t think so. I think that Grandmother of his keeps him in toe.” 

I smile. “Georgina’s pretty awesome.”

“You know her?”

I suddenly feel like I’m being interviewed, and I shift a little in my seat.

“Yeah, that’s how I know Lachlan. Our grandma’s are friends.” 

Samantha’s face relaxes into relief.

“Good. I’m glad he has someone outside of his old group to go to. He doesn’t have any friends outside of the drugs. It’s always been what concerned me the most. I’m thrilled that he brought you along, even if it didn’t go as I had hoped. It’s progress to know he has someone like you to help him.” 

Her words feel like a thousand pounds. I feel pressure now. I feel like I have to help him or he could relapse or something. I know it’s stupid but I can’t stop my brain from thinking stupid things.

“Um, thanks.” I stand up and Samantha grabs my wrist.

“It says a lot that he brought you here today, Talia. Remember that when he’s being… difficult… okay? He isn’t quite sure what he wants yet.” 

It also says a lot that he just left me behind to deal with Violet. The girl who I’m
sure
said she loved him.

CHAPTER TWELVE

Lachlan

 I’m on my way back into the church. I managed to get Violet to leave. She was high. She claimed she wasn’t but I know better. I am so fucking familiar with the excuses. I wish she’d just stop. Or leave me out of it. Does that make me the biggest selfish asshole ever? No the fact that I left Talia inside is what makes me the biggest selfish asshole ever.

 I should have told her. 

Talia pushes open the door. Her dark braid pokes out of her grey beanie and glows in the orange overhead lights. 

 She walks right up to me so her sneakers are touching mine. She is taller than I originally thought. Or maybe she is just standing up straighter. 

“You should have told me,” she says. I can’t tell if she’s mad.

I cross my arms and lean back. It wasn’t meant as a defensive thing but the way her face bends into a scowl tells me she is taking it as a defensive thing.

She grabs my forearms and pries them apart.

“Don’t you go all cool guy on me now.” 

She points behind her toward the door, “What was that?” 

I try to cross my arms again but she grabs my wrists. I’ve never had a girl manhandle me like Talia, first with her slapping me after the motorbike and now with the forcing my arms apart. I can easily stop her, I could pry her fingers off me without even trying. But I don’t. I don’t want to.

I get caught in her crazy blue eyes and something within me stops. Stops trying. Stops hiding. Her hands around my wrists feel amazing. The warmth that travels the length of me reminds me of when she had her arms around me on my motorbike and stroking her cheek during her panic attack and the buzz of electricity I felt when I was holding her hand earlier. One touch from this girl and I’m done. One look and I want to take down the wall I so carefully built to keep people out. A look that sees through me, like only Gram’s can. 

“She always does that.” Violet, I mean. My voice is like a whisper and I drop my head to watch Talia’s hands still curved around my arms. 

“So that gives you the right to haul her around like that?” Her voice is high and it cracks. She’s judging me. I can hear it in her voice and it shatters the warmth I felt moments before. 

“You wouldn’t understand,” I mutter and step forward, forcing her to step away from me. She stumbles backwards and stares, open-mouthed. I turn and go to the driver door. 

 “You
are
a jerk, Lachlan McCreedy.” Talia speaks evenly, calmly, but I can hear her breathing speed up. My whole body tenses. 

“You act like such a tough guy. You think you’re hiding behind your reputation but you really are just a jerk.”

I turn slowly and take three long steps toward her. She flinches but she never looks away. 

“What did you say?” I ask, but I heard her. She’s right and I don’t know how to deal with it. 

“You heard me. And yes, I don’t understand because you’re too busy being a jerk to talk about it.”

She steps closer to me and I’m overtaken by the urge to kiss her but my anger keeps me stubborn. My anger always controls me. 

“Why did you bring me here, Lachlan? Why did you want me to come here if you’re just going to leave me behind? You’ve obviously figured out that I have a hard time with this kind of stuff? Why here?”

I open my mouth but my jaw sticks. Even if I wanted to say something, anything, I can’t make myself do it.

Because I feel something for you I’ve never felt before. Because I want to talk to you. Because I want you to know. Because I want you.
 

“Am I just a game to you? The quiet crazy girl that you want to challenge yourself with? See if you can destroy my life so you can hang my card on your collection? Well get in line, buddy, because you’re not the first.”

This time my mouth closes. Still no words. It shatters me to think she thinks this of me. I know what most people have to say about me, but she is different. This is Talia. 

Talia’s glare softens but the fire I’d never seen before still blazes in her eyes.

“Take me home.” 

She gets in the car, slamming the door. The sound pulls me out of my trance and I move around to the driver side, closing the door softly. How did this get so intense so quickly?

Right, I’m a jerk. 

Just like that my fight is gone. I want her to know. But no one knows. No one but me and Gram and mom. And
him,
of course.

I sigh loudly and she faces me, eyes narrowed and arms crossed, but she’s shaking. Sticking my tattoo covered arm out to her, I pull up the sleeve of my T-shirt to expose my shoulder. The tattoos go onto my back but she’ll get the point. 

Her lip trembles as she looks from me to my arm and back again. 

“Go ahead, touch them.” I flick the interior light on and we are bathed in the harsh white light. 

She just holds my gaze until I reach out and take her hand. I press her fingers to my skin and tingles shoot up my arm, hitting me right in the chest. She’s going to turn me into one of those guys. One of those guys who blubber about their feelings and that terrifies me, but for now I continue to press her fingers into my skin. 

At first she seems scared, her hand rigid and pulling away, but then she feels it. I can tell by the way her expression changes from fear to shock.

“Is that a…” 

“Scar? Yes.” She begins to move her fingers on her own, traveling up my forearm until she finds another one. Her eyes get wider but she never takes them off me. 

“But how?” She sounds terrified. She doesn’t believe it. 

“Because he said I deserved it.” I start to pull my arm back and she grips me tighter pulling my arm so hard I have to lean across the console. She puts my arm in her lap and runs both her hands up and down it. The sensation is tormenting me, the mixture of desire for her to keep going and the pain of the memories those scars hold is too much. 

“Your dad?” She’s starting to get it.

I nod and her eyes glaze over. I wait for the pity but it doesn’t come.

“There are so many,” she whispers to herself just as her fingers grazed the top of my wrist band. My heart punches me in the chest from the inside. My ribs feel as if they will crack.
I need this
, I tell myself. I need to let someone in.

I shake, for the first time in years, I shake. Talia takes the clasp in her fingers. She doesn’t say anything but just licks her bottom lip before biting it. I nod slowly but I have to look away. I can’t watch her. I want her to know, but I don’t. My brain is such a fucking mess that I close my eyes and lean back against the headrest.

I hear the snap of the band’s catch. 

Talia drops my arm and my heart falls with it. There’s no turning back now. 

She gasps.

“Lachlan!” 

She wraps her hand around my wrist and presses her palm onto the long scar. I finally get the guts to look at her and swivel my head without lifting it off the headrest.

As soon as my eyes meet hers she flings herself across the car and I catch her as she wraps her arms around me. I bury my face in her neck, which is not something I would normally do, but she smells like vanilla and almonds and I can’t help it.

She hugs me tight and whispers in my ear, “I do get it, Lachlan. I know what it feels like to have nowhere to hide from yourself. To feel like you have no escape. I get it.” 

My shoulders tense and she pulls back. Those eyes. She does get it. I see understanding, not pity, behind the flecks of ocean blue.

And it scares the shit out of me.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Talia

Nan’s saying something to me, I can hear her voice but I’m not paying attention. I’m thinking about Lachlan. I have been all week. Mostly about his scars, specifically the long thin bump that ran along the inside of his wrist. He wouldn’t tell me if it was his fathers doing or his own. Actually, he never said anything after I saw it. He put on his band and drove me home. And he hasn’t spoken to me since. He ditched out on our last meeting and I had to go see the director of the Christmas Charity drive by myself. 

“Tali, darling? Are you okay?” Nan reaches down to the end of the couch, where I’m sitting and pats my knee. I try to smile at her but I can’t. She looks terrible. I’ve stopped asking about it because all she ever says is “I’m fine, darling.” Which is garbage because she’s losing weight, her skin is no longer luminescent but grey and sallow. Her eyes don’t shine like they did, and I can tell it is taking her a lot of effort to move around.